#it's a good song for this au tho ngl

[razzle-zazzle]

Brothers

9650 Words; Between AU, pre-canon

TW for death

AO3 ver

Gristle Junior was seven months and eleven days old on the day of his first Trollstice.

Or rather, he was seven months and eleven days old on what would have been his first Trollstice, were it not for the lack of trolls. And the day had started so well, too, anticipation electric in his veins as he bounced around his father’s room. He had been so ready to taste true happiness!

But the Trolls were gone, fleeing underground despite the best efforts of Chef’s underlings. Not a single Troll had been recovered, Gristle had been told, and from what little he had been able to see of the commotion—from the swinging shovels and pickaxes he had glimpsed in the plaza as he was being shuffled away from the action—supported that notion. Surely, if Trolls were being found, then surely there would be much less frustration.

But the day passed without a single Troll eaten. Gristle’s father, for who he had been named, had taken him aside to calmly explain that with no Trolls, Gristle would never be happy. Not ever. Nothing else could possibly work.

To a Bergen less than a year old, such words were absolute. And why should Gristle doubt his father? The King had lived for decades, an extent of time which felt like an eternity to Gristle Junior. Surely, if there was anyone who could know everything, it would be the King.

Gristle was seven months and eleven days old on the last chance he would ever have to know true happiness. The date clung to his mind, the damnation of eternal misery heavy in his chest. To a Bergen so young and inexperienced with the world, there could be nothing worse.

Chef was disgraced. Not a single Troll recovered, in all of that mess? Her exile was quick and loud—Gristle watched from the castle door with his father as Chef was bodily thrown through the gates, shouting curses he strained to hear. With a sigh, Gristle moved to turn away from the door, prepared to ready himself for bed.

“Your Majesty!” Two Bergens hailed down his father, bowing the moment the King’s eyes were on them. “We found…” The Bergen on the left had his hands cupped together oddly, perfectly concealing whatever would be inside. With a nudge from his partner, he bowed again, holding out whatever it was to the King. “We found this at the tree’s edge.”

Gristle Junior turned back towards the door, pressing against his father’s legs to peer at what was so urgent it couldn’t wait for daylight. The air was thick with anticipation as the Bergen’s fingers slowly parted, revealing what was delicately clasped in his hands.

It was a Troll.

Gristle’s eyes widened. His father inhaled sharply, peering down at the tiny shape curled in the palm.

The Troll stared up at them with wide eyes, curled in on itself and shaking. It was so small. How did creatures that small even exist?

The King hummed, leaning in further. Gristle Junior was quick to imitate, peering at the tiny Troll even more intently. This brought to light a detail that had been previously overlooked—a detail that seven month and eleven day old Gristle had no filter against pointing out.

“It’s gray.” Gristle said, peering down at the thing. Tiny, too. Could something so little really bring him happiness? “Is it sick?” He poked at the Troll, and it flinched back with a hiss, tail clutched in its paws.

“Inedible.” Gristle Senior growled out. He turned bared teeth to the pair before them. “Your effort is appreciated.” He said, “But there’s no use for a Troll that’s gone bad.” The King sighed, moving to reenter the castle. “Do as you wish with it.” He dismissed. “My son and I…”

Gristle Junior reached for the Troll. “It’s so small.” He whispered, staring down at it. Small and gray and baring blunted teeth in an approximation of a snarl… He looked up at the pair, eyes wide. “Can I have it?”

The Bergen holding the Troll hesitated, before tilting his hands towards Gristle. The Troll squeaked as Gristle scooped it up, voice tiny. Gristle squealed, clutching the Troll and running back inside, the rest of the world forgotten.

The Troll turned bewildered eyes up to Gristle. It trembled, shouting as Gristle turned a corner, but Gristle paid no heed to anything but the sheer novelty of his idea. His very own Troll! There was hardly much of a plan in the toddler’s head, but a simple idea was all Gristle really needed at his age.

Gristle bounced into his bedroom, Troll in hand. He moved to set the Troll down on the desk—

“Son!” Gristle Senior’s voice was seldom so loud—but when it was, it commanded attention from everyone in the area. And indeed, Gristle Junior turned his attention to his father, the Troll still squirming in his hand. “What are you doing?” Gristle had never heard his father at such a loss.

“Keeping it.” Gristle Junior said.

Gristle Senior walked across the room and peered down at the Troll on the desk, trapped between Gristle Junior’s hands. “A pet is a lot of responsibility, son.” He pointed out.

“You say the same about being Prince.” Gristle Junior responded.

Gristle Senior jolted slightly, taken aback. “That… is true.” He conceded. “But it’s a Troll.” He poked the Troll in question, sending it stumbling backwards onto the ground. “It will just get eaten.”

“But you said gray Trolls are inebidable!” Gristle Junior lifted the Troll—his Troll, up with cradled hands, pressing it against his chest. “That they’ve got no use, which means that eating them can’t do anything!”

“Inedible.” Gristle Senior corrected gently. He lowered down, to be closer to his son’s eye level. “Son, be realistic. The kingdom just lost all of its Trolls. Trollstice has been a tradition for more than a century. The shock of no more Trollstices will make the people desperate.”

The Troll stared up from Gristle Junior’s hands with wide eyes. Tiny claws too small to do any damage dug into Gristle Junior’s hand.

Gristle Junior huffed. “But they gotta listen to you, Daddy. You’re the King.” The people had listened when the King declared Chef exiled; Gristle had witnessed just that less than an hour ago. “If you say that my Troll is inedidible then nobody will eat it!”

The King sighed, tired and heavy. “You’ll need something to keep it in.” He advised. As his son cheered, he turned to the door, and made his way across the room. Once Gristle Senior reached the doorframe, he turned back to his son one more time.

“If I wake up tomorrow and find that thing is running around the castle, I will feed it to Barnabus.” He threatened. His face immediately lightened, and he left the room with a single, cheery, “Goodnight, son!”

Gristle Junior nodded at the closed door with the utmost seriousness. He turned back to his Troll, who he set on the desk gently. “Hear that?” He asked. “You stay in here, or else.” With that, Gristle propped his face up in his hands, leaning forwards. “My name’s Gristle. Yours?”

The Troll crossed tiny Troll arms and glared up at him. “I’m not telling.” It said, in a voice that reminded Gristle of the mice Barnabus ate.

“Then I’ll just give you one!” Gristle chirped. “How about… Trolly!”

“No.”

Gristle frowned. “You’re getting a name, no matter what.” He huffed, poking his Troll in the side. The Troll stumbled a bit, but remained standing. “You’re so grumpy.” Gristle noticed. “Just like… a Bergen…” He trailed off, something approaching realization creeping up his throat.

The Troll snarled. “Not a Bergen!” It insisted, tail smacking the desk.

Gristle stared. “You…” His eyes lit up. “You and I are gonna be best friends.” Gristle decided, poking his Troll again.

The Troll’s response was simple. Gristle yelped, yanking his hand back. The Troll fell over, rubbing at its mouth with tiny paws, and Gristle stared at the tiny teeth marks on his finger.

The Troll glared mutinously, as if daring Gristle to come within biting range again.

Gristle nodded. “Yep! Best friends!”

+=+=+=+=+

Gristle Junior was nine months and two days old when he learned the Troll’s name. He had been poring through a pet care magazine, oo-ing and ah-ing over the different kinds of pets that Bergens kept. From alligator-dogs like Barnabus to even frog-crows!

He had hit the section for small pets, though none of the kinds commonly kept by Bergens were as small as a Troll. He looked over at the custom cage his father had had commissioned for his Troll, from the pod taken from the abandoned Troll Tree to the sandy substrate in the basin. As usual, his Troll was down on the substrate, pressed into the corner while it worked its way through safflower seeds.

“Look!” Gristle held the magazine right up against the cage bars, pointing at the circled bird perch. “How does a swing sound? I bet you’d have a lot of fun with it, Trolly.” He didn’t expect a response—the Troll rarely ever spoke back, content with glaring and darting away when Gristle reached into the cage.

Which meant it surprised him all the more when the tiny creature spoke. “Branch.”

Gristle opened his mouth to continue speaking—stopped. “What?”

“Branch.” The Troll repeated. “My name is Branch.” Its eyes were locked resolutely on the sandy substrate, shoulders hunched and tail thwap-thwap-thwapping against the corner.

Gristle gasped. “Oh!” He’d never thought—he—Branch—

“That’s a weird name.” Gristle finally decided, leaning in. “Are all Trolls named like that?” He couldn’t quite read well enough to digest all the books he’d found about Trolls (or that had Trolls on the covers), so his only real source of information was what former Troll-handlers Chad and Todd (or was it Todd and Chad?) could tell him, when he saw them. Which wasn’t often.

Branch gave Gristle a deer in headlights look, a helpless sort of “how-would-I-know” conveyed through body language alone. Paws clenched and unclenched against the seed held between them.

Gristle shrugged, and went back to the magazine. “So,” He said, “You never said if you wanted a swing.”

“Don’t bother.” Branch huffed. “I won’t use it.”

+=+=+=+=+

Gristle Junior was five years old when his father led him into his study for the first time. The younger marveled at the book-filled shelves and neatly organized desk, at the candle holders set into the wall and the banners hanging down—this room was his future.

“My son,” Gristle Senior began. “What you will be starting today is a time-honored tradition of Bergen Royalty.” His voice had a practiced lilt, a deep timbre made of years of self-assurance. “For no Monarch rules Bergentown alone—it is the duty of Princes and Princesses to run the kingdom in concert with the reigning monarch.”

“Whoaaa…” Gristle Junior hopped up and down to see atop the desk. “I’m a Prince!” He realized, whirling around to face his father. “So I have to help you run!”

Gristle Senior chuffed. When he spoke, there was pride in his voice. “And that is exactly what you will start learning today.” He lifted his son with one arm, sitting down behind the desk and settling Gristle Junior in his lap. “Now,” He pushed a stack of books from the edge of the desk to the center. “Here are the best volumes to start with…”

The lesson continued on throughout the rest of the morning. After lunch with his father, Gristle Junior returned to his room with the stack of books he had been given, ready and willing to learn. He pushed open the door, and made his way over to the desk right next to his bed.

“There’s so many books I need to read!” Gristle lamented. “How am I ever going to learn it all?” He’d have to, though, to be a proper Prince of Bergentown. And he would! Bergens were tough, and royal Bergens were said to be the toughest of all! So Gristle would be the best Prince! No book could defeat someone as tough as him!

He was starting with history. But there was so much! He held out the book to Branch’s cage, showing off just how thick it was—and it was all pre-Trollstice, too!

Branch squinted at the tome, then returned to his digging. He’d been doing a lot of that lately. Which was weird, because Trolls were supposed to live in trees—every book Gristle had read on them said so. But the pod in Branch’s cage—taken directly from the Troll Tree, no less—remained just as empty as it always had. There was even dust building up along the top!

“I mean, how in the world am I ever going to remember all this?” Gristle slammed the book down on his desk, prying it open. He was glad for Branch—the Troll was a good listener, in the five year old’s eyes.

The Troll in question poked his head back up, ears twitching. “Are you going to read it, or are you just gonna complain?” He asked, before going back to the hole.

“Right.” Gristle turned his attention back to the book. Slowly, he began, sounding out the words as best he could.

“The first re-cor-did history of Bergenkind dates back to… three… fow-sand years ago.” He began. “When Fow-ler the First wrote the… the first ever Law.” He continued reading, stumbling over words while Branch continued digging. Gristle let the history wash over him, entranced in the task set before him. Hours passed, and Gristle found himself being called down to dinner before he even registered that so much time had passed.

Three days later, Gristle found himself staring at a worksheet in frustration. He was supposed to fill it out without looking at his books, and he was struggling.

“UGH!” Gristle threw his head back, clutching at his hair as he seethed. “How can I remember the name of the first Bergen to write a law but not when?!” He smacked his head against the desk, groaning in frustration. The urge to go to his shelf and pull out the relevant book itched down his spine—but he had to hold strong! A good Prince knew how to look things up, but a great Prince could recall whatever detail was needed when it was needed.

Oh, how was Gristle ever supposed to be a great Prince?

“The first recorded history of Bergenkind dates back to three thousand years ago.” Branch said, casually breaking the frustrated silence. “That’s what your book said.”

Gristle looked at Branch’s cage, where the Troll was busy jotting stuff down on a scrap of paper. Gristle then looked over to the book on his shelf. Slowly, he pushed out his chair and went over to the shelf, opening the book to the first page.

“That’s…” He turned back to Branch. “You’ve got a good memory.” He said, returning the book to the shelf.

Branch muttered something that Gristle didn’t quite catch. Gristle shrugged, and went back to his worksheet. He’d have to read aloud to Branch more often, if Branch could remember stuff so well.

With a hum, Gristle continued on with the worksheet. It probably wasn’t in the spirit of the challenge to have a friend who could remember a lot of words, but Gristle wasn’t concerned at all with that notion.

He continued to talk to Branch as he worked, something light in his chest with the knowledge that Branch really was listening.

+=+=+=+=+

Gristle Junior was six years old, and he and Branch were having a real good row. The kind of row that, had they been proper siblings, would have only been able to be settled by some proper Bergen roughhousing, with weapons and property destruction. A real riot-causing dispute.

It was hardly their first disagreement—Gristle had the faint bite scars all over his fingers to prove it. But it was certainly frustrating, born from weeks of buildup over a simple fact.

“It’s not healthy! Trolls are supposed to sing!” Gristle gestured to the book in his hand, which was way more useful than all the cookbooks he’d found. It actually went a bit into Troll health and growth, detailing all the ways and times that Trolls could become inedible. As Branch was, and had always been gray—or at least, as long as Gristle had known him—the book in question proved very useful.

“Well I don’t!” And that was the crux of the situation, the simple fact from which all of this had spawned. “And I never will!” Branch’s stand was resolute, unshakeable, even in the face of all of Gristle’s Princely Rage.

“But you have to!” Gristle insisted, gesturing again to the page he had the book opened to. “Trolls that don’t sing—this book isn’t very nice about them!” He was fumbling, he knew, but he didn’t know how else to say it. The book said that gray Trolls were to be removed from the Troll Tree and disposed of immediately. It didn’t say why, and Gristle was still a child—he didn’t question the words presented as fact. As far as he could tell, a Troll that had gone gray was just… it wasn’t right!

“You’re supposed to be happy.” Gristle pushed. “You’re supposed to sing, like a regular Troll.”

“Never gonna happen.” Branch insisted. “I’ll stay unhappy, just you watch!” He crossed his arms with a huff, tail twitching angrily.

“That’s not good!” Gristle responded. “You have to get your color back eventually!” The book said nothing about whether Trolls could regain their color after losing it. But it wasn’t right, for a creature so intertwined with music to never make a single note. And if the book said to get rid of gray Trolls…

Gristle cared about Branch, more than he could feasibly admit. The castle staff were fine, and his father was his father, but Branch—Branch was a friend. Someone Gristle could talk to who would actually listen, no matter what it was.

The book said it wasn’t healthy for a Troll to go gray. Gristle was going to be King someday, in the far distant future, and he’d be responsible for all of Bergentown. Even sooner, he would be a fully fledged Prince, responsible for helping his father with Bergentown. If Gristle couldn’t even take care of one tiny troll, then what were his chances of ever being good at what he was literally meant to do?

“And then what?” Branch gripped the bars of his cage, rage in every inch of his body. “You’ll eat me?”

“Of course not!” Gristle could never! Branch was… Branch was his friend! Inedible by Royal Decree! Gristle would sooner eat Barnabus!

“You’re lying!” Branch yelled back. “The moment I become edible you or some other Bergen will be serving me up on a silver platter!” His tail lashed about wildly, tears bubbling up at the corners of his eyes. “Because that’s all Trolls are to you!”

Gristle flinched back. He… he refused to admit it, but Branch had a point. Trolls were the only way that Bergens could ever be happy, and they had spent generations with a holiday dedicated to that very thing. But…

“You’re different.” Gristle insisted. Branch was his friend. “You’re not… you never sing and you’re always unhappy.” He huffed. “It’s like you’re barely a Troll at all!”

This time it was Branch’s turn to flinch, tail falling flat against the ground. “Maybe you’re right.” He said quietly, turning away from the bars.

“Branch, I—” Gristle reached out, only for his hand to fall back down when Branch glared at him.

“Fine, then.” Gristle grumbled. “We’ll just be unhappy together.” Between the two of them, Branch was the only one who had even a chance to ever be happy—Gristle would never get to eat a Troll with all of them gone, but Branch… Branch was a Troll. If anyone would ever get to be happy, it would be the creature who was quite literally made of the stuff.

“Fine!” Branch sat down hard on the substrate, arms crossed and turned away from Gristle. “Unhappy together!”

It felt like a promise, like a finality.

It felt like Gristle was failing hard at this whole “taking care of others” thing.

+=+=+=+=+

Gristle Junior was seven years old with a form in his hand. He stood before Branch’s cage, expanded over the years to include deeper substrate and a small climbing tree. The… well, it felt weird to call him a Troll, when he was nothing like Gristle’s books, but what else could he be called?

A Bergen. At least, that was what he’d be if Gristle’s idea went through.

“I’ve been learning about law.” Gristle began, with no real preamble. Branch looked up from his orange slice, ears twitching, but made no comment. “And I found out something interesting.” He took a deep breath, and glanced at the memo in his hand. “Adoption Laws, Section Two. In the case of a non-Bergen being adopted by a Bergen or other being of Bergen citizenry…” Gristle hurriedly looked at the memo again, “They are considered, in all aspects of the law, a Bergen, with all of the rights and restrictions that such a designation entails.” He let the memo flutter down to the floor and looked down at Branch, who was staring up at him with wide eyes.

Branch clenched and unclenched his paws against the half-eaten orange slice in his lap, tail flicking behind him. “...what.”

“Listen.” Gristle leaned in close, holding up the form in his other hand. “If I adopt you, then you wouldn’t be in any more danger of being eaten!”

Branch squinted. “Aren’t you a little young to be a parent?” He asked, orange slice seemingly forgotten in his lap. “And I’m older than you.” He pointed out, somewhat bitterly.

“Ew! No! Not as a son!” Gristle waved his arms wildly, then pressed the form against the bars again. “As a brother.” He clarified. “Because… you’re more of a friend than a pet,” Gristle explained, “And it’s not fair to keep treating you like one. A pet.” He carefully gaged Branch’s expressions, watching as his face flickered through a series of emotions. “All you’d need to do is sign on this line…”

“It can’t be that easy.” Branch groused, tail flicking faster. “Bergens don’t do ‘easy’.”

“Well,” Gristle rubbed at the back of his neck, “We would have to get approval from Dad for it to go through.” He rallied, clenching his free hand in a fist. “But that’s easy! I mean, he let me keep you!”

“As a pet.” Branch stressed. He set the orange slice aside, brushing off his paws as he stood. “That’s totally different.”

“And that’s why I want to do this!” Gristle unlatched the cage door, not bothering to reach in—he had long since learned that Branch hated being picked up unexpectedly. Better to let Branch come out of the cage on his own terms. “Because what kind of Prince treats his friend like a pet?”

Branch’s expression fell, his shoulders hunching. His paws clenched and unclenched in the rhythmic way they often did, his tail flicking. Carefully, slowly, Branch clambered out of the cage, climbing down the flipped out door to settle on the smooth wood of the shelf. Gristle held out his hand, palm up, and Branch hopped onto it, letting himself be lifted over to the desk.

Gristle laid out the form. He’d double-checked every word to make sure it was exactly what he needed, and all that was left was to sign it and have it approved. Gristle had already signed it, his name penned in only slightly messy ink. Penmanship win!

Branch pulled a tiny quill from his hair, hopping up to gently dab it in the inkwell on the desk. As Gristle watched, Branch kneeled down in front of his line, and carefully signed his name.

“Think that’ll be enough?” Gristle asked.

Branch hummed. “Maybe…” He tucked the quill away and went back to the inkwell, hopping up and leaning so far in that for a moment Gristle feared he’d fall in. Branch kicked the side and lifted himself back and out, clambering over to the form and slapping right next to his name with his paws.

Two inky paw prints, right next to his name. “That should do it.” Branch decided, satisfied.

Gristle nodded, offering his hand again. As Branch hopped onto his palm and clambered up Gristle’s arm to his shoulder, Gristle grabbed the form carefully, blowing a bit to make the ink dry faster.

“Let’s get this done!” Gristle declared, running off to go find his father. It wasn’t the first time Branch had left Gristle’s room, nor the first time that Branch had ridden on Gristle’s shoulder. But it was the first time since the belled harness had been made that Branch had left the room without the jingle of bells signaling his every movement. Gristle realized it was weird, actually, to feel the weight on his shoulder and not hear the sound of bells he’d come to associate with that weight. But the harness was from when Branch was still a pet in everyone’s eyes—it wouldn’t do to make Branch wear it now.

And really, Branch was like a Bergen, in a lot of ways. He never sang or danced, he was disagreeable—even the gray of his short fur was similar to the average Bergen’s dull tones. Whenever he had something to work on, be it the den he’d dug or even old worksheets Gristle tried to downsize for him, he took to working on it just like a Bergen: with a grumble and the focused spirit that allowed Bergens to create sturdy walls and buildings. And he had interesting insights, too—Bergens disliked great heights, so even the castle couldn’t get very tall, but it was Branch who gave Gristle the idea to suggest subterranean expansion when the King presented the age-old issue of expansion logistics. Which was just funny, because Trolls lived in trees—yet Branch never once touched the dusty pod hanging in his cage.

Branch settled down on Gristle Junior’s shoulder, tucked just below Gristle’s ear. Gristle found a sudden bounce in his step, a mix of anticipation and excitement in his veins. Yeah, this whole adoption thing was a great idea! Maybe even the best Gristle had ever had!

Finding the King was easy—it was just before lunch, so King Gristle Senior would be just finishing up with the final petitioners in the biweekly levee. Normally, Gristle Junior would be sitting in his own princely throne beside his father, to listen and watch and get a general idea of how a levee worked—but he had… kinda skipped it, what with how eager he was to try out the adoption idea. Not that that was a major issue—Gristle Junior wasn’t meant to fully step into his duties as Prince until he was ten.

Still…

“Ah, there you are.” King Gristle Senior groused, shifting slightly in his throne. “Care to explain why you missed today’s levee?”

Gristle Junior stopped short, nodding his head in a bow. “My apologies, Father.” He kept his tone careful, regal, like he’d been taught. “I found something that needed attending to.” He explained, head still down.

Gristle Senior snorted. “Well, out with it, then.” He waved his hand encouragingly as his son looked up. “What grand idea did you come up with this time?”

Gristle Junior’s mouth pulled back in an odd way, and he fought the strange expression off of his face. With a simple flourish, he drew out the form, holding it out towards his father. “This.”

Gristle Senior took the form, glancing it over. His expression remained neutr—his eyes widened, as the contents of the form properly registered. The King’s expression scrunched, turning thunderous, before going down to mere annoyance. He turned that annoyance upon his son, and all but sputtered out, “What in the name of Berg is the meaning of this?!”

“It’s an adoption form.” Gristle Junior explained, pressing his hands together. He felt Branch shift slightly on his shoulder, and he held out a palm. Branch took the offer, sliding down Gristle’s arm to stand upon his hand, small and gray and steady.

“I can… see that.” Gristle Senior hissed through ground teeth. “But…” His expression became just as lost as the night that Gristle Junior had first met Branch. With a deep sigh, Gristle Senior looked down at his son and the Troll.

“Letting you keep a Troll as a pet is one thing,” The King began, “But adoption? Of a Troll? Are you insane?”

Gristle Junior felt oddly gobsmacked. “It makes sense.” He tried, unable to keep childish uncertainty from his voice. “Branch is the most unTroll Troll ever, he’s just like a Bergen and I think it’d be best if he was called as such, because then nobody would even think to eat him!”

Gristle Senior sighed, heavy and tired. “That’s not a good enough reason.” He started. “Son, do you have any idea what would happen if that… thing were to become your brother?”

“It’d be a serious crime to eat him.” Gristle Junior responded easily.

Gristle Senior brought up his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, grumbling too low for Gristle Junior to make out the words. “...of all the—” With a rumbling groan, Gristle Senior regarded his son with a firm—but not wholly uncaring—expression. “You’re a Prince, my son. You can’t just go adopting every creature you see fit.”

“It’s just Branch.” Gristle Junior pushed back, “He’s already close enough to a Bergen, what’s adding the legal distinction going to do?” He shook his head. “This will all work out, Dad, I know it. I just need you to trust me.”

“Son, be realistic.” The King groused. “If that thing becomes your brother, then that makes it a Prince. There’s no way a Troll could be a Bergen Prince! Trolls are all about loud parties and sugar and silly games—they’re simply unsuited to laws and regulations and the hard work required to run a kingdom!”

Gristle Junior’s mouth opened—to say what, he wasn’t sure, but air was being forced up from his lungs and defiance was roaring in his heart, ready to burst out what would surely be a useful and clever retort—

“I can do it.”

As one, Gristle Junior and Senior turned to look at Branch. Branch took the combined attention with hunched shoulders, his tail clasped in his paws. “You want me to learn how to help run a kingdom? Fine. I’ll do it. I’ll learn.” He dropped his tail and crossed his arms, expression firm.

“I don’t want you doing anything of the sort.” Gristle Senior growled, but Gristle Junior was already rallying.

“He can! Branch is smart, Dad, he’s where I got the idea for underground expansions from! He remembers all the stuff I read, and he listens, and he’d make a good Prince!” All of his reasons were true and proven—which meant a lot, for seven year old Gristle Junior.

“Preposterous!” Gristle Senior began—

“If you think it’s so preposterous,” Branch’s voice cut through the room like alligator-dog teeth through mice. “Then why not bet on it?”

Those three words echoed in the sudden silence of the room, bouncing off the vaulted ceiling and tangling up in the eaves. If there was one thing Gristle Junior knew his father could not resist, it was a wager.

Indeed, Gristle Senior’s face had turned contemplative, his hands steepled before him. “A bet, you say?” Something like satisfaction slithered its way onto his face. “Hmm, I think I see what you mean. A trial period, of sorts, is that it? To find out if you could even come close to being a Prince?”

Branch nodded.

“Yeah!” Gristle Junior agreed. “If Branch can prove himself then you have to let the adoption go through!”

Gristle Senior snorted. “Sure, fine.” He waved his hand dismissively, before turning his attention to Branch. “But when that little creature fails to keep up the pace, I’m burning that form and you’re going to put any wild ideas of adopting Trolls out of your head for good.” He glared down at the pair, lips curled in a derisive snarl.

“You have three weeks.” Gristle Senior declared. “Better get started.”

+=+=+=+=+

Gristle Junior was seven years old when he became a brother.

The wager had been… not as hard as Gristle expected. Branch had thrown himself into the challenge with a fervor that was only seen with master artisans undergoing hefty commissions. It had taken a lot of work, in those three weeks, but at the end of it all—

The cage had to be redone, renovated into a proper bedroom. The castle staff found itself expanded by two—Bernice and Groth, who had been hired to aid in the fiddly and sometimes frustrating art of turning tiny, Troll-sized writings into something that could be read by the average Bergen. Branch needed new clothes, and a proper bed, and a shelf for all of the Troll-sized copies he’d made and was making of the various books on Law and history and regulations, and had to attend meals and levees and lessons with Gristle, and—

It was so much. Gristle had known, when he had drafted that first attempt at an adoption form in the castle library, that things would change—but he had never quite imagined the sheer scope of it all. Suddenly, his brother was accompanying him everywhere, riding on Gristle’s shoulder or flinging himself through the halls with his hair. Gristle had heard some of the staff discussing pathways for Branch, where he’d be safe from being stepped on—

There was so much.

But…

Gristle had never had a brother. He had had a friend, in Branch, but it had taken so long for them to really get there. And now, despite how it had felt like the world was ending on that fateful failed Trollstice, all those years ago—

Gristle couldn’t imagine that day going any other way. He didn’t want to imagine a world in which he never met Branch, who was surely a Bergen in Troll skin. Branch was his friend—no, his brother.

“Hey, Branch?” Gristle rolled over and looked at the shelf that Branch’s things currently resided on, at the cage hurriedly covered with a sheet in an approximation of a proper room with real privacy. Late at night, in his unlit room, it barely looked like a cage at all. “Do you ever think about the day we met?”

Branch’s voice filtered down from the shelf. “Not really.” He admitted. “Why should I?” There was something oddly bitter in his voice. “It’s the day I was left behind. Again.”

Gristle Junior wasn’t sure how to unpack that. Or if he ever should. “I won’t leave you behind.” He promised, “‘Cause brothers stick together.” It felt like such a simple truth, to the seven year old Bergen.

There was silence from the shelf. It stretched on, almost uncomfortably so, feeding into the static of the darkness filling the room.

Gristle huffed. “You really are just like a Bergen.” He commented, “Always miserable.” He chuffed, something light in his chest that he didn’t fully register. “And that’s why you know we’ll always stick together.” He said, staring up at the darkness clinging to the ceiling.

“Unhappy together, then.” There was something soft in Branch’s voice—he must have been tired after such a long day.

Gristle sighed. Unhappy together. It sounded like a promise, like a finality.

It sounded like he was finally getting the hang of this whole “taking care of people” thing.

+=+=+=+=+

Gristle Junior was ten years old when he was properly crowned Prince.

The day had been rife with tradition, from a breakfast banquet stocked with imported delicacies to the event itself out in the plaza. The old Troll Tree, withered from its abandonment, stood tall in the center of the space, dominating the whole scene no matter how Gristle Junior tried to look at it.

He fiddled with the clasp on his cape—his Princely cape, paired with his new crown to signify the change in status. The festivities weren’t exactly celebratory—the whole ceremony amounted to more of a town meeting, but with the best catering the royal kitchens could provide. Bergens of all kinds wandered about the plaza, taking advantage of the free food while Gristle Junior—Prince Gristle Junior watched on from his father’s side.

Branch—no, it was Prince Branch, now—stood to Gristle’s side, on a small platform made entirely for the occasion. His own blue cape and silver crown had to be custom-made, instead of passed down, but neither of the brothers were bothered by that fact.

“I still don’t understand how Glixry managed such tiny details.” Gristle commented, focusing in on the silver metal of Branch’s crown. “It even has tiny metal leaves!”

Branch reached up, touching the edges delicately. “It feels so weird.” He decided. “But… not bad.”

“Of course not! You’re a Prince now!” Gristle assured him. “Stand tall and proud, like a proper Bergen.” Gristle commanded, repeating the words he had heard so many times.

“Yeah…” Branch let his paws fall back to his sides, almost hidden under the edges of his cape—but Gristle didn’t miss the way they clenched and unclenched repeatedly.

Branch was older than Gristle, true. But the fact remained that he had started learning later, so it had been decided to crown them both when Gristle came of age, and not a moment sooner. So here they were, brothers crowned together, all of Bergentown around them.

There would be so many more responsibilities, now—Princes helped the reigning monarch run the kingdom, after all. They’d still have to learn as they went, but—

Gristle breathed in deeply. The Bergens—his people—they were all miserable. But they were hardworking and honest, and Gristle would do his best to be the Prince they deserved.

Gristle turned to look back at his brother, who was fiddling with his own cape clasp. Glixry had repurposed one of the bells from Branch’s old harness for the clasp, and even now it still faintly rung as Branch slowly paced around his little platform.

There was an odd expression on Branch’s face, satisfaction and an oddly melancholy contemplation firming his brow. Gristle huffed, snapping his little-big brother from whatever thoughts he was lost in. Gristle offered his hand, and Branch rolled his eyes before hopping onto Gristle’s palm.

As Gristle lifted his brother high above his head, something proud surged in his chest, light and electric in his veins. His face twitched in that odd way it sometimes did, but Gristle ignored the feeling in favor of looking out over his people once more.

He was going to be the best Prince Bergentown had ever seen! He and his brother both!

+=+=+=+=+

Gristle Junior was eleven years old when Branch finally pupated.

His book on Troll growth said that Trolls pupated when they were twelve or thirteen. It also went on about how Trolls were utterly inedible in this state, wrapped in their cocoons as their bodies changed and matured.

That Branch’s pupation had come late according to the books was worrying. That it had come at all was a stark reminder of the fact that, for all of his Bergen-like traits, Branch was in some small way still a Troll.

Gristle peered at the dark gray hair cocoon for the umpteenth time. None of his books said anything about whether Trolls could still hear in there, or even what really happened to them outside of “maturation”—all the book really cared to go over was how to identify a pupation cocoon, and that they couldn’t be eaten.

“Even if you can’t hear me,” Gristle began, settling back down with an interesting book he’d found—some kind of romance novel where none of the characters actually got together in the end. He’d heard the librarian going on about how it was a contemplative piece about the nature of connections, so he’d picked it up to go through. “But if you can’t then I’ll just read this book to you all over again when you’re out.”

The cocoon gave no discernible response. Gristle decided that that was fine, and began to read. He made it through a chapter and a half before being summoned for dinner with his father, and he gave the cocoon one final glance as he left the room.

“I see your… brother isn’t joining us again tonight.” Gristle Senior commented, as the first course was brought out.

“I told you, Dad, he’s pupating.” Gristle Junior huffed, licking sticky roe off of his fingers.

“Yes,” Gristle Senior nodded. “Trolls do do that, I’ve heard.” He went silent as the second course arrived, digging in with royal fervor. A few moments later, and he spoke again. “Hopefully this whole thing doesn’t set him too far back.” He commented airily, dabbing at his face with a napkin.

Gristle Junior scowled over his plate as a servant exchanged it for the bowl of soup acting as the third course. “Branch always keeps up.” He asserted. “And we won that bet fair and square, so you can’t go back on your end no matter what.” He sipped from his spoon with a pointedly royal slurp.

“And I have no intentions of backing out.” Gristle Senior slurped just a little harder. “I’m just curious.” And with that, the conversation was over.

Gristle stared down at his soup. Branch would keep up. He would. He always did.

+=+=+=+=+

Gristle was eleven years old, and he was getting concerned.

Nineteen days. The books said that Trolls only pupated for a week, tops. But it had been nineteen days since Branch had disappeared into the spun cocoon, eyes glassy and unfocused. Nineteen days of a silent cocoon.

Gristle had long since finished that first romance novel, and the book on fence safety regulations, and was almost halfway into a book on the history of anchovy farming. And the cocoon still remained!

The worry was starting to affect his Princely duties, too. Maybe it was because he was used to working alongside Branch, and the absence was getting to him, but there was no denying it: Gristle was concerned. But what if trying to crack the cocoon open early ruined everything? What if he was supposed to crack it open, and he’d missed the deadline? What if being gray really was bad, and Branch…

Gristle didn’t want to think about it. He really, really didn’t.

The sun had long gone down when Gristle finally put his books away and retired to his bed. He glanced at the cocoon one last time before extinguishing the lights, worry like a rock in his gut.

The night passed. The sun rose again, creeping into Gristle’s bedroom through the window until it smacked against his eyes. With a groan, the eleven year old sat up, shading his eyes with a hand. He glared at the offending celestial body. “Every day.” He muttered. “Every day, you do this.” He was about to continue—

“Are you yelling at the sun again? Really?”

Gristle yelped, jolting hard enough to fall off of his bed entirely. He flailed wildly, scrambling to clamber back to his feet, frenetic energy in every inch of his suddenly-impossibly-awkward limbs.

“Branch!” Gristle leaned up against the shelf, examining the shredded remains of the cocoon through the door of his brother’s room. His little-big brother stood beside it, already having pulled on some pants. “You’re okay! You were in there for really long!”

Branch shrugged, walking over to his wardrobe. “Well, I’m here, so you can quit your whining.” There was a fondness in his voice that had Gristle rolling his eyes.

“Your tail’s still gone.” Gristle noticed. A lump settled in his gut, hard and heavy. “Branch…”

Branch turned around, twisting to look and confirm Gristle’s words. “Eh.” He shrugged, and turned his attention back to his wardrobe. “‘S not like it matters.” He decided, picking out a shirt to wear under his cape. “Bergens aren’t supposed to have tails anyway.”

Gristle winced. It was true, Bergens were tailless—but if they had tails, they certainly wouldn’t—

Gristle shook his head. He didn’t want to think about that. “Sooo,” He started, as Branch was securing the belled clasp of his cape. “How do you feel?”

Branch carefully placed his crown back upon his head, then walked in a small circle. “I don’t know, stronger?” He tried, holding his paws out in front of himself and examining them. “I think my balance is better, actually.” He noted. As if to illustrate the point, he did a twirl, his cape flaring slightly with the motion. “My face feels kinda… hm.” Branch pressed at his jaw with his paws, before shrugging it off. “Whatever. Are you gonna get ready, or am I doing all your work for you today?”

“Oh!” Gristle whipped back around, running for his own wardrobe. “Right!” As he shrugged on his own cape, clicking the clasp into place, he turned back to glance at the shelf holding his brother’s room.

Gristle sighed, all of his worries abated. Why would he ever worry? His family was just fine, and would be for a long, long time.

+=+=+=+=+

Gristle Junior was thirteen years old when he finally had to admit it.

He’d always hoped he’d get his father’s height, that he’d be able to stand as tall as the average Bergen in his adult years. But it had become clear that he would always be half average height, always doomed to needing steps to get onto the taller chairs.

It wasn’t the end of the world; Bergens could come in a range of shapes and sizes. That Gristle was so short wasn’t that big of an issue.

But Berg, did it feel like it! Gristle had spent his whole life looking up to his father—metaphorically and literally! And he was probably going to be stuck looking up forever!

“What are you moping about now?” And there was Gristle’s little-big brother, padding along one of the many paths set into the castle walls. The masons and carpenters had done good work with those paths—when Branch wasn’t running along them, they looked like simple wall decoration. It was real classy.

“I’m never gonna be tall.” Gristle grumbled, allowing himself a moment to lean against the wall in despair. Then he remembered who he was talking to, and hurriedly pulled away, flailing his hands as he tried to recover. “I mean—not that being short is a bad thing—”

“Okay, I’m gonna stop you right there.” Branch groused, holding out a paw. “Because from where I’m standing, you are not short.” He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms in front of him.

“I am, though.” Gristle lamented. “Most Bergens are twice my size. I mean, just look at Dad!”

Branch rolled his eyes. “At least you’re not Troll-sized.” He hopped down from the path along the wall to land atop Gristle’s head, just next to the crown. “Gotta count your blessings there.”

“I dunno,” Gristle started, swiping at his brother as the tiny Bergen pattered about on his head and ruffled his hair, “Maybe being Troll-sized would be nice. I could ride Barnabus around the halls with you.” He didn’t fully mean it—being the size of a Troll in a castle made for Bergens constantly forced Branch to find workarounds to even the simplest of things. But if anyone could manage it, it’d be Branch.

And Gristle had to admit: the idea of being able to ride on an alligator-dog, even one as old as Barnabus, was really cool. But Gristle was too big for that, and too big for his old trikes—all while being too small in so many other ways. It was like he was caught between, stuck at a size that would annoy him forever.

Branch dodged away from Gristle’s hand easily, chuffing when Gristle accidentally sent his own crown flying down the hall. Gristle growled, running after it, shaking his head in an attempt to throw Branch off. But his brother held on easily, always infuriatingly good at roughhousing despite his size.

It just wasn’t fair.

But, as Gristle replaced his crown on his head, and as Branch slid down to settle on Gristle’s shoulder, Gristle brushed away the annoyance.

It wasn’t the end of the world. Not by a long shot.

+=+=+=+=+

Gristle Junior was fifteen years old when the unthinkable happened.

His father, King Gristle Senior, who had always been an unshakeable force, strong and proud in a kingdom full of strong and proud Bergens—

Gristle Junior couldn’t believe it. It couldn’t be true. It just—it wasn’t supposed to happen like this!

But there was nothing that could be done. His father had fallen ill three months ago, and, despite every effort from every doctor in Bergentown, despite all of the King’s strength—

Gristle Junior was fifteen years old when his father passed from illness, gone overnight like a snuffed candle flame. Gristle Junior was fifteen years old when the title of King passed onto him, far too soon—he should have remained a Prince until he was a proper adult, until he was married with children who would become the Princes and Princesses that would help him run the kingdom—

Gristle Junior was fifteen years old when his world shattered for the second time. The funeral was held out in the plaza, barely a week after his father’s passing. The same plaza as Gristle’s first and final Trollstice, as his and Branch’s official crowning as Princes. It felt as though every major life-changing event in Gristle’s life happened here, the caged tree looming over it all like a shadow.

It still… it just couldn’t be possible. His father couldn’t just be… gone.

Gristle returned to the castle in a daze. Some distant part of him knew that he would have no choice but to take up his father’s crown, and soon, but—

The rest of him was sinking slowly, the grief thick in his throat and veins and head. The fog was all-consuming, pulling Gristle into depths of unhappiness he’d never thought possible.

Gristle had believed his first and last Trollstice, the day where he lost any chance to ever be happy, would be the worst day of his life. Oh, how wrong he was.

Gristle didn’t know how long he laid like that, staring up at the ceiling of his room without seeing anything at all. It was as though the world around him had well and truly shattered, and now the pieces had all fallen away out of his reach. Gristle floated on the nothing for what felt like an eternity and now time at all, the mire in his head growing thicker with every passing second.

“Hey.”

Gristle rolled over on his bed, pressing his face into the comforter to block out the rest of the world.

“Hey.”

What was the point? Gristle was never supposed to be King at fifteen. He’d probably mess it up, bungle the whole thing, and then all of Bergentown would be just as dead as his father.

“Hey!”

Gristle groaned, shoving his face into the comforter. He didn’t have the time or patience for this, his whole world was falling apart, why couldn’t he have a good cry about it in peace—

Something small landed inches away from Gristle’s head. He didn’t even need to look to know who it was—only his little-big brother could land so lightly.

“Hey, idiot.” Branch pushed at Gristle’s chin, lifting the Bergen’s head off the bed by a few inches. “Chin up.” He demanded, baring his teeth.

Gristle forced his head back down onto the comforter. “Leave me alone.” He growled.

“Mm, nope.” Branch declared, moving around to pull at Gristle’s ear. “You’ve been in here long enough,” he sniffed, “And you need a shower. C’mon.” He pulled, and Gristle had to put effort into staying in place.

“No.” Gristle grumbled. “Just let me rot.” Every inch of his body ached with the grief clinging to his bones, and the very thought of getting up and doing anything made him want to vomit. The whole world made him want to vomit.

“Can’t let you,” Branch said, his voice edging into genuine worry. “C’mon, at least eat something?” He tugged at Gristle’s ear again, darting away as Gristle irritably swiped at him.

“I said,” Gristle pushed himself up ever so slightly, just so he could look Branch in the eye, “leave me alone!”

Branch shook his head, paws clenching and unclenching. “You’ve been alone.” He said. “I can’t leave you. Brothers stick together.” There was something heavy in his words, some deeper meaning than a childhood promise.

“And how are you supposed to help?” Gristle asked, sitting up fully. “What could you possibly do to make this better?”

“Not let you smell like a rotting carcass, for one.” Branch snarked. His expression immediately softened. “You need to take better care of yourself.” He urged. “Letting yourself rot only makes it hurt worse. Please.”

“And what would you know?” Gristle accused. “You and Dad barely even liked each other!”

“You think I don’t know what grief feels like?” Branch spread his arms wide, tears beginning to bubble up in his eyes. “My Grandmother was eaten on Trollstice before you were even born! DON’T YOU DARE TELL ME I DON’T KNOW WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO GRIEVE!”

Gristle flinched back. All of his vitriol drained as Branch panted. “You…” Branch never talked about that, about those four years he’d spent in the Troll Tree. Gristle’s throat tightened as a wave of emotion hit him anew, his eyes beginning to sting.

“It hurts.” He sobbed, for lack of anything better to say.

Branch’s anger melted away. “I know.” He said, sitting down. “It hurts, and you want so badly to just curl into a ball and wish the world away—”

“But you have to pick yourself back up.” Gristle finished. “Because people are counting on you.”

“Because nobody else will.” Branch added softly.

Gristle sobbed, breathy and uneven. “I miss him so much, Branch.”

Branch nodded. “I know.”

“I’m not ready to be King!” Gristle’s face was wet, now, hot and sticky with snot and tears.

Branch nodded again. “I know.”

Gristle sobbed again, his whole body shaking with the motion. He opened his mouth, but no words came.

“It’s not okay,” Branch offered into the silence, scooting forwards, “And that’s okay.”

“It hurts.” Gristle whispered.

Branch nodded. No more words came, and Gristle continued to cry. All of his misery poured out, raw and real and painful, and Branch remained right in front of him the entire time. When Gristle finally ran out of tears to cry, he flopped back down onto the bed, and two paws pressed against his cheek.

The silence stretched.

Slowly, Gristle breathed. In, and out. His chest was still strung taut and raw, his face was cold and sticky, and his throat stung from the effort of crying so much. He had never felt so low. He knew the grief was far from over.

As Gristle breathed, Branch clambered up onto his chest. He kneeled down, and held out a paw.

“Unhappy together.” Branch offered. “Shit sucks, but it sucks less when we work together.”

Gristle inhaled, his breath choppy and uneven. “Unhappy together.” He agreed, offering his finger for Branch to shake. He sobbed again, and Branch wrapped his arms around as much of Gristle’s hand as he could manage.

Gristle Junior was fifteen years old when his father died. And it sucked, and hurt, and Gristle wasn’t sure he’d ever really stop grieving.

But, at the very least, he wasn’t alone. It wasn’t much, but that simple fact helped.

+=+=+=+=+

Gristle Junior was twenty years old when Chef returned.

The day started as any other, really. Wake up, get cleaned and dressed, find his brother already awake and poring over details from the latest construction updates in the new quarter. Have breakfast, Branch darting about to steal off of his plate as he stole from Branch’s, like proper brothers would do. Go through the castle halls greeting everyone, Branch walking along the various small walkways lining the walls and arching up across hallways like tiny bridges. Prepare for the biweekly levee in the throne room.

It was as the final petitioner was leaving that it happened. A Bergen that Gristle only vaguely recognized emerged from behind a potted plant, swishing her cloak ominously as she all but marched towards the throne.

And then Gristle recognized her. The chef’s hat, the lavender tint, the wicked gleam in her eyes. He glanced to the throne beside his, and anxiety germinated in his chest at the sight of Branch still as a statue, eyes wide and locked onto Chef.

“Were you behind that plant the whole time?” Gristle asked, for lack of anything else to say. He realized immediately how stupid that sounded—but Branch made no comment on it, which was so unlike him that Gristle’s uncertainty ratcheted up another notch.

Chef grinned as she reached for the zipper on her fannypack. Slowly, she opened it, and a sweet harmony emerged from within.

Gristle gasped, the rest of the world forgotten. If Branch had any reaction, Gristle didn’t notice it, too entranced with the sight before him.

For in Chef’s fannypack was a handful of Trolls, bright and colorful and singing.

This… this could change everything.

No—this would change everything. For all of Bergentown! Finally, Gristle Junior could live up to his title, could be the King that brought happiness back to his people!

If he had bothered to look back at the thrones, he would have seen Chef glaring daggers into his back.

More importantly, he would have seen the look of utter uncertainty on Branch’s face.

[fosermi]

Just a few doodles of the day, some of it stems from conversations in the Eclipse nation. Clippie is no longer a silly little Nickname yall.

Have a bonus happy DM Clippie ready to cause mayhem

[fangomango]

Ok fine...

Watched the open mic episode

And loved it

😮‍💨 a pitch I couldn't resist I'm sorry

[song-linked-from-nine-verses]

/Warriors equipment sketch (not final)

<image_id: sketches and doodles on a cursive practice notebook (the type of notebook with way too many squares). details below>

Warriors holding a left-handed bass. Note reads: He puts the capo where it SHOULD be. (the guitar nut. like right before the frets but after the headstock)

Strap. Note reads: 55 inches or 140 cm long. Strap is very long. Imagine it looks like his scarf (and theres a doodle next to it with me struggling to draw the emblem, like How do I draw this??)

Bass. Note reads:

Uses:

- Fret wrap

- Capo

- NO PICKS (all caps)

Bass color should be some sort of deep blue. The design is based on a Fender Precision Bass (model non-descript)

[leclercsainzz]

hello love:)

i absolutely love your social media au stories! <33 i was wondering if you could please do a lando norris one with the song “bad idea” by olivia

BAD IDEA, RIGHT?

PAIRINGS: lando norris x ex fem!reader

TYPE: social media au

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, lilymhe and 610,720 others

yourusername: camera crumbs ✨

view 6,164 comments

user: the prettiest

user: she’s literally glowing!! 😍

user: those two shirts are a MUST

oscarpiastri: my mom says i’m cool too 🤪

↳ yourusername: 😎😎😎

isahernaez: HOT

↳ yourusername: that’s youuu 😘

↳ user: carlando exes >>>

landonorris: orange still looks good on you 😉

comment has been deleted

user: missing my favorite wag hours 😔

user: body goals 😩

user: waiting for the *liked by landonorris*

charlottesiine: the prettiest 😍

↳ yourusername: right back at you;) 😘

user: did you love making lando cry? 🤣

↳ user: i was sooo confused by your comment until i saw her shirt on the last post lmao

user: gorgg 😍

user: orange??!? for lando?!?? 👀

↳ user: they broke up, get over it!

user: your smile is the prettiest smile ever, i swear 😍😍😍

user: so pretty wtf 😩

user: missing you in the paddock, queen 😭😭

user: idc what anyone says she’s ✨GLOWING✨

↳ user: she’s always been gorgeous but the post break up is hitting different lately!!!

user: missing my fav girl 😩😩😩

yourusername

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55 and 602,818 others

yourusername: 🍃

view 5,047 comments

user: there it is, “liked by landonorris”

user: not lando liking this post 😭

↳ user: my man is still down bad, idcc

user: STUNNING 😍

user: my eyes have been blessed, omg 😍

user: i’m not imaging lando liking this right?!?!?

lilymhe: you’re so photogenic, i can’t

lilymhe: hOT 😮‍💨

↳ yourusername: 😘😘😘

user: soMEONE CHECK ON LaNDO!!

↳ user: ya’ll try to make a big deal out of everything, i swear! can’t exes be friends?!? smh

user: *liked by landonorris* ngl that took me out 💀

↳ user: he’s reappearing after a whole month lmaoo

↳ user: he’s desperate 😭😭😭

user: omg, you’re truly soo stunning!! 😩😩

alexandrasaintmleux: 😍😍😍😍

↳ yourusername: ❤️❤️

user: pretty girl!!

user: lando liked now we’re waiting for a comment 🤣

oscarpiastri: answer my text NOW!!

↳ user: please, this is soo funny 😭

imessage

yourusername

liked by francisca.cgomes, oscarpiastri and 617,936 others

yourusername: i know i should stop, but i can’t 🤷🏻‍♀️

view 8,947 comments

user: stop what, queen?!???

↳ yourusername: posting pics, babe

↳ user: nOOO!! I LIVE FOR yOUr POsTS

user: 😍😍

oscarpiastri: i don’t like that caption 🤔

↳ yourusername: meaning??

↳ oscarpiastri: noo comment …

user: SLAYYYYY 😍😍😍

carlossainz55: that caption is insinuating something, isn’t it?

comment has been deleted

user: her outfits are always 😍

user: did anyone else see carlos comment?!??

↳ user: wHAT COMMENT?!?? WHERE?!!?

↳ user: he deleted it 😭😭 but it said, “that caption is insinuating something, isn’t it?”

↳ user: wtf does that even mean?!!??!?

↳ user: lando, maybe?!?? idk 😭😭😭 it might not even mean anything, i’m just delusional lmao

↳ user: if it didn’t mean anything, why delete it tho?!??

user: idk about ya’ll but carlos deleting his comment seems sus??? like what does he know?!??

user: mother is slayin’ 😌

user: i wish i had her style

user: everyone’s freaking out overs carlos deleted comment but what about oscar’s comment?!?? what did he mean by “i don’t like the caption” and the “no comment” comment?!???

↳ user: i’m tELLING YA’lL, thEre’s something they know thaT WE DON’T!! 😩

user: yn and lando are definitely fucking around, i just know it! that’s the whole reason for carlos and oscar’s comment, there’s no other explanation

↳ user: ya’ll are so delusional 😭💀💀 LMAOO

user: she literally responded to a comment saying, “posting pics, babe” when asked about the caption, hello??? ya’ll just love to insinuate things

imessage

landonorris

liked by carlossainz55, oscarpiastri and 784,629 others

landonorris: carlando podium!! 🏆 🏆 thanks @mclaren

view 7,520 comments

user: mY CARLANDO HEART!! ❤️🧡

oscarpiastri: 👏🏼

mclaren: YESSSSSSSSSIRRRRRRRRRRR

user: THE LAST POST?!! I REPEAT, THE LAST POST?!!? WHO IS THAT?!!? IS IT YN?!!?!

user: don’t let carlando distract you from that last post

carlossainz55: ❤️

user: smoooooooth operatorrrrrr

maxfewtrell: 🤩🤩🤩

user: is that yn?!?? someone please confirm 😭😭😭

↳ user: i don’t think so, they don’t even follow each other

user: you’re telling me my man is seeing someone?!? and it might not be yn?!!?

user: it’s literally carlos in a wig, ya’ll

↳ user: i thought it might’ve been oscar tbh

user: patiently waiting for the *liked by yourusername*

↳ user: im waiting for her to comment

user: CARLANDO?!! AND YNLANDO?!!? SIGN ME TF UP

↳ user: it’s not even yn

user: p1 & p2 baby!!! ❤️🧡❤️🧡❤️🧡 #carlando

user: that ain’t yn, ya’ll! we gotta accept that they broke up and move on, as much as it hurts 😭

↳ user: nah, that’s definitely yn!

user: i don’t think it’s yn tbh

↳ user: then who could it be?!?

team_quadrant: 🍾 SMOOTH

user: lANDO WE NEED ANSWERS!!! WHO IS THAT?!??

imessage

yourusername

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55 and 620,184 others

yourusername: bad idea, right? ohh well 🤷🏻‍♀️

tagged: @landonorris

view 7,520 comments

user: nahhh 💀 this has to be a joke or sum

user: yn, babe, this is definitely a bad idea 😭

user: OMG OMG!! PARENTS ARE BACK TOGETHER!!! 🤩

user: scReaming, wtfnalalslfsma

user: not lando reclaiming my wife 🙄

oscarpiastri: “we won’t catch feelings”

↳ yourusername: oops? hehehe 🫢

user: i kNEW IT!! i CALLEd IT

user: THE WOrLD HAS HEALED!!

maxfewtrell: 😏

landonorris: hey, you 😍😍😍

landonorris: see you tonight? 😘

↳ yourusername: you got it;)

user: nahhh 😭😭😭😭 yn you’re better than this

↳ yourusername: sorry, bestie 🤷🏻‍♀️ i couldn’t help it

carlossainz55: dios mío

translation: my god

alex_albon: oh my god, no way 😳😳 who would have thought???!??

↳ yourusername: we get it, you know things 🙄

georgerussell63: guess i owe you @maxverstappen1

↳ maxverstappen1: pay up, mate

user: this was so NOT on my 2023 bingo card, wth

user: does that mean my fav wag is back?!?? 🤩🤩

francisca.cgomes: oohhh?? 😏

user: you’re so 😍😍😍😍 and then there’s him 😬😬

user: not my wife getting back with him 😑

user: count your days, l*and*

↳ user: please 😭😭

user: this makes me so happy, idc

landonorris

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri and 776,859 others

landonorris: good idea, right? (swipe for a surprise) 😌

tagged: @yourusername

view 7,946 comments

user: thE CAPTION, HELLO?!??!?

user: they’re back together, that’s all that matters 😭😭

yourusername: hey, you copied my caption …

yourusername: you’re cute or whatevaa 😉

↳ landonorris: right back at you 😉

user: I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS STILL

user: idk if i should be happy or cry

user: nOt him making her smile 😩 that should be me

user: i would’ve gotten back with her too, i get it, lando

oscarpiastri: okay, this is cute … i guess

↳ landonorris: you guess?

georgerussell63: 😏

user: they really hard launched their relationship just like that

carlossainz55: where’s the surprise?

↳ yourusername: 🙄 this is why i’m taking lando back from u

↳ landonorris: technically, you’ve always had me 😏

maxverstappen1: from friends, to lovers, to exes, to fuck buddies, to lovers again … cute

↳ user: does this confirms these fuckers never stopped seeing each other?!?? 😭😭

↳ user: nOt max exposing them 💀

↳ user: max, you’re telling me that these two have been hooking up even after they broke up?!?? 🤔

↳ maxverstappen1: 👍🏼

user: that last post is cute tho 😩

user: i NEEDED this!

user: ynlando nation rise!! our favs are back together 😌

maxfewtrell: get it 😉

user: i still cannot believe this is real

user: i guess this technically confirms they ended on good terms when they broke up the first time

[boneyspades]

I'm not that well known that this'll be really seen but I've been thinking about this for like A WHILE-

since I'm a musician and I'm doing a music related course in uni and since the SaSi hyper fixation has me in a chokehold it got me thinking...

THE SIDES IF THEY WERE IN A BAND (or were musical artists idk)

use these for Ur band Aus or something idk

also I'm thinking of making a part 2 of like side duos and what types of songs they'd make if they collab'd so lemme know if U want that

Roman

bro would definitely would be on the vocals Ong

he'd probably know many classical instruments like violin or a flute (this is more cus of aesthetic purposes)

he'd be a PAIN to work with in the studio ngl

his way or no way, and if it's not his way he has a tanty

during sound checks or tuning other instruments he'd just riff obnoxiously (everyone would tell him to shut the fuck up)

as a solo artist he'd probably make theater like songs or just some girly pop songs

Sabrina Carpenter is his inspo (used to be Beyonce but uh..... I think we know why that isn't the case anymore)

would probably be a good person to ask for lyrics

would practice his thank you speech for Grammys even if he's not even nominated

Logan

ngl he'd be the one behind the mixing desk

if not he'd probably know piano/keys or bass since he's not the type of to be over the top (no one pays attention to the bass which SUCKS CMON GUYS-)

more fascinated on the production side of music

he's the one setting up the equipment since everyone else is "too stupid" to help (maybe besides virgil but we'll get to him soon)

by the end of a sesh he has a headache cus he has to get Roman and Remus to STOP FUCKING SCREAMING OMFG-

soloing he'd probably make lo-fi chill music to study to or something like Pink Floyd or maybe even some Radiohead songs or Billie Eilish songs

he'd research certain topics for lyrics.

WORD ASSOCIATION GAME AH RAPPING (think One Week by Barenaked Ladies)

Virgil

(ok I'm really excited to do this one since virgil and I r really similar)

bro SLAYYYYYYS the electric guitar and bass but is too nervous to really admit it or really play in front of others

has probably had many panic attacks after messing up alot (which tbh same)

helps Logan with setting up equipment (he's the only one that Logan actually trusts with it)

also knows drums??? (I'm also a drummer and he's literally me let me live my life)

DISTORTION PEDALSSSSS

virgil: "I dunno if I can do this guys like really I'm not that good I should just lea-"

patton probably: "Awh, c'mon Virgil! you got this! it's gonna be ok!

Virgil: "well i-if you say so..."

*proceeds to absolutely shred TF out of the guitar*

knows how to do vocal fry screams (metal screams) and does it alot

Remus and virgil Collab ALOT since they're kinda similar in taste

by himself he'd make emo music or any type of like emo rockish song which honestly I think is a surprise to no one

dream collaborator is Gerard way

many many stickers on his guitar

Patton

honestly doesn't really care what instrument he gets he just wants to have fun

vocals and rhythm guitar most of the time whilst virgil has lead (he's gotta let his bestie have his spotlight)

always brings snacks to the studio even tho Logan always tells him not to (he wants the studio to be nice and neat)

wants to Collab with EVERYONE (besides the obvious bad ones ofc)

if the songs they're making as a band are slow and melancholy in the slightest, the water works will start FLOWINNNG ONG

soloing he'd make kids songs or just songs that r just obnoxiously happy or marketable (or something that sounds like the Beatles)

would also write sad songs when he needs to express his feelings, thanks to virgil for giving him advice

always asking the other sides to Collab and make acoustic covers of songs (especially with Janus, virgil and Roman)

Remus

(again, excited for this one cus he my fav and also were similar)

oh god no.

hed be on drums (twinning:3) but would also know guitar

GOD HELP U IF UR EVER IN A ROOM WITH REMUS AND THERES ANY INSTRUMENT IN SAID ROOM

he is trying to make everyone annoyed by just making the LOUDEST amount of noises (He's slamming his arms on the piano rabidly, he's putting the guitar amps on full and playing all strings as hard as he can, etc)

bro hits the drums H A R D

has probably broken a kick drum a few times(it's a wheel spin on who he has pay for it between Logan, Janus and Patton)

BANNED from using the production equipment for obvious reasons.

messes with the equipment anyways

the BEST at metal vocals (taught Virgil how to do it)

sings songs but replaces the lyrics with inappropriate words

twinning with Roman, when the others r trying to sound check or tune their instruments, he's SCREAMING IN THE MICS LIKE A LUNATIC

soloing, he's either making the type of metal where the vocals r just screaming vocals where no one knows what he's saying (maybe like death metal???), the most cuntiest sex songs like Aisha erotica or just songs that sound like "I staple tapeworms on my penis" (I kid U not this is a real song, here it is for reference↓)

virgil and Remus Collab alot (I said this before but i can't help but think they're besties)

Janus

bro would be the KING of jazz in the mindscape

he'd probably do vocals, saxophone, violin, cello and keys/piano

always comes to the session late. its all about him so everyone else doesn't matter.

if one of the other sides can't make it for some reason, Janus would take their place (tho realistically all of the sides CAN mimic eachother, I feel like Janus does it better than the others since he practices ALOT more)

also messes with the equipment but doesn't go as elaborate as Remus, he just does the simple and subtle things

fights with Roman ALOT about the stupidest of things

kinda an asshole to work with depending on who U r

Logan: "hey, Janus can you just move the mic further away from you please?"

Janus: "of course.." *proceeds to purposely move the mic closer to himself just to fuck with Logan*

soloing, he'd make songs like frank Sinatra or Peggy Lee or something, just very jazzy bluesy type things.

likes to Collab with Patton but won't ever admit it (as you can tell I loved the into the unknown vid)

will ALWAYS supply the wine mostly for him and Logan cus they fucking need it-

and C!Thomas is just the manager if Logan isn't it already

and that's it idk

[kozumesphone]

also, second one (cause i couldnt resist)

if u seek amy! i think thatll be fun

my hobby is reading and playing the guitar!

i think i read like fifty books last year..

my fav books are pjo tlt (its nostalgic ok!!) and the hunger games series

i like to play mostly taylor swift and gracie abrams songs on the guitar!

i basically steal my sisters guitar whenever i want to play cause i dont have my own lol (im better than her)

my favorite taylor swift song is youre on your own kid

my favorite gracie abrams song is feels like

my favorite color is yellow (pretty obvious i think) it reminds me of sunshine and just overall happy things yk?

my favorite season is spring! the flowers start blooming and theyre so pretty (downside are the bugs)

i have a lot of favorite shows: stranger things, brooklyn 99, the good place, modern family

my favorite subject is chemistry! i love learning about the world around me and its properties etcetc

some random stuff about my personality: i get distracted so easily its a nightmare to study, i am an emotional wreck i cry easily, definitely a night owl, hufflepuff, daughter of poseidon

i dont mind if u pick someone from a book i dont recognise, that will just give me incentive to read it!!!

oh forgot to mention im a straight girl

love uuuu and congrats again!!!

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

CORASON⭑.ᐟ

⟢ “I love you, okay, darling!”

a/n: okay but the way the ship name is corason? which sounds so close to corazon? which means like ‘my dear’ in italian, I think?? MADE FOR EACH OTHER MUCH 🤭💓

I think you’d best match with jason grace!

I mean, daughter of poseidon x son of jupiter? hello?? PERFECTION!!

jason would learn to play the piano while you play the guitar, so you guys could play music together

he LOVES laying on your stomach while you read on your bed and run your fingers through his hair

^ sometimes, he even falls asleep like that, and you both slowly shift into cuddling

he definitely hypes you up to finish your goodreads reading goal, if not exceed it (what can I say? he’s jason grace)

he definitely went to the ballad of songbirds and snakes movie with you (supportive bfs even when they have no idea what you read/watch >>)

he once asked you why you love yoyok by taylor, and straight up bawled while you explained to him what the song meant

he’s a very sunshine-y person, just like you, so when you guys are together, leo pretends to faint and says “too much sun! i’m getting sunstroke! help!!” and he thinks he’s really funny (i’d laugh, ngl <3)

come springtime, he lets you put all the flowers you collect over the summer into his hair

^ he also does the rapunzel braid on your hair and puts in matching flowers in it

(he drives away the bugs for you, dw!)

in an au, he’d never have heard of any tv shows, but after hearing you yap to him about them, he watches them ALL and makes notes about them too (about what? only he knows.)

okay, here we’re going off the rails so badly, but it’s a very ooc and personal hc of mine: jason sucks ASS at geography and chemistry. he will literally breakdown at the very thought of them.

he gets you to help him out with the chemistry part, and he teaches you math (if you’re not good at it already)!

he makes sure you don’t let yourself get burnt out while studying, and also makes sure you don’t get distracted and procrastinate

he comforts you at any time of the day: you say it, he’ll be over asap to give you free cuddles with your favourite chocolates & drinks

sometimes, he doesn’t even need you to tell him. he’ll just. know. when you’re feeling off. and his jacie senses tingle, and he calls you up and goes, “is it cuddletime?” and then drives over

while you’re a night owl, he’s an early bird (he must teach me his way, tho, because h o w)

^ you stay up till 2-3 am reading/studying and wake up by 9 or 10 am, while he sleeps by 10 pm and wakes up by 5 am to the dot

so you guys leave each other sticky notes before going to bed for the other one to see when they wake up

you guys 100% go on bookstore dates (he buys you everything you can carry on your own), library/study dates (especially while grinding during finals szn), museum dates (to mock the statues), beach dates (so he can get mesmerised while watching you do silly little tricks with the water and talk to the fishies), etc.

his love language is 101% physical touch & acts of service <3

temp. taglist — @nuncscioquidsitamor-14 @mqstermindswift @puffoz @skeelly @urmomabby

@sunnitheapollokid @jgracie @canonfeminine @cinemaconrad @roses4plvto

@urbanflorals @aezuria @thetunnelunderoceanboulevard @cherigall @percabethluvr

@pjoverseluvr @maybxlle @mershellscape @riordanness @starlitszn

@metyouattherighttime @a-beautiful-fool @sequinsnstars @ssparksflyy @fayvpor

@iheartgirlzn @nomournersnofunerals @over-the-ocean-call @seaglass-and-string @cer3lia

@lara20aral @bloophasarrived @xoxochb @auroraofthesun1 @sophiesonlinediary

@solangelotus @brodieland @s1utlvr @imasimpdealwithit @waitingonher

@nqds @skyrigel @daydream-of-a-wallflower @hermidastouch @catastrxblues

@moon-drop18 @d4rkdi0rrr @hopelesslyromantic-shark @saltwatergirl6 @hope92100

event masterlist

[arthuluart]

Hiii - wanted to say first thing first I love your art style, it's so dynamic and fun and those color palettes? Stunning ^^

And second thing second, just some food for thought if you ever want to get angsty about Jerry and Dean, coffee by Chappell Roan sounds like it was written about their break up specifically and I can't stop thinking abt it dndnden

*Cue me losing my mind*

Hiii- they say flattery gets you everywhere and turns out with me, it gets you animatics- jkjk but I do appreciate the kind comments ^^

I’ll put up the animatic separately and take the opportunity to leave the preamble here to keep the video post neat bc until someone tells me to shut up and just post art- I’m gonna ramble… So here’s the commentary you didn’t ask for along with my favourite panels:

First off- You turned me into a big time Chappell Roan listener which is great bc I need music recs to fix my listening habits before Spotify wrapped drops. My roundup last year was shameful… Red Wine Supernova is my new dish washing song.

Even tho it’s not the song’s vibe I kept the content as silly as I could for my own sanity. I don’t love getting too deep into the serious/sad side of M+L for a few reasons but I do find it all very interesting. Point being this song was too good to pass up doing something a bit bigger for.

Ngl tho- this did have me pulling out hair at multiple points. I never colour animatics, rarely even tone them- but you mentioned colour palettes and I was determined to deliver so pardon the messy colouring but (that was the tradeoff) I did not have it in me to stay in the lines. I’m choosing to be kind to myself and opt to call it an artistic choice and not midway burnout. And nothing was gonna get me to open after effects/premiere not even the janky ass golf ball OML this only makes sense if u watch the video.

There are parts of this I’m SO happy with and others I hate. I think it’s really obvious which sections I started losing steam on but overall I lowkey like the end product. Nothing I make will ever be good/perfect- this was one hell of a practice in accepting that lmao- but I can still be ok with the work problems and all yknow? I very nearly shelved this completely bc I got so worked up about the maybe 5 panels I dislike out of 106 total. Counting them was eye opening to ask myself: you’re gonna let that small a ratio stop you from sharing this after putting in days and days of effort? The insecurity goes deep and TBH getting asks has been a nice way of working through it since I post the art I make for answers no matter what only bc I KNOW someone out there wants to see it. It might not sound it but it’s actually quite positive.

Also, although I feel I’ve done my fair share of reading, I’m no expert. So if anything is really off point- sorry my bad (I won’t fix it tho bc I cannot physically stand to look at this another second lol)

I tried to stick to real things found in articles/books/photos/interviews etc bc outside of obviously fictional AUs I’m not super into making stuff up about them (and who needs to I mean the legit stuff is already insane enough) Sure I framed the events in specific ways to suit the song and some aspects are fictionalized (mainly bc the referenced written accounts lacked detail to draw 100% faithfully from anyhow) but otherwise I got my sources cited.

ANYWAYS… sorry for hijacking this answer I need to learn to chill out. Irl I’m a pretty reserved talker so you can tell I’m in a comfy place when I let loose and blather on endlessly lmao brevity is not a skill I possess.

You were probably expecting illustrations or smth but I hope what I came up with is still somewhat alright AND please don’t let my complaining fool you, I genuinely loved making this.

One FINAL Relevant Note: the line “nowhere else is safe every place leads back to your place” is gut wrenching. You’re so right about this song perfectly describing the break up. They always came back to each other and there’s something so devastating about that kind of haunting human connection.

OkAY I’m done promise- I thought I’d implode if I didn’t get all that out

[julietasgf]

For your most recent ask game:

Can you go through Carcará? I love that fic so so much and it’s one of the only Strabo centric fics on ao3

hiii grace, tysm for the ask!! and ofc!! also, tysm, I'm so glad you like that fic <33 but alright:

my favorite scene: the scene where strabo is taking care of the twins, the collector knocks on the door and he scared him out! sometimes I catch myself rereading it because of how much I enjoyed it (plus, how I think it shows how young strabo is; he's just a teenager, but has to act as someone much older to keep things under control and safe in their house). also, honorable mention for the scenes of strabo and vesta in that car!

my favorite chapter: that's a tough one, but I would say the second one. I enjoyed a lot developing the relationship between sejanus and strabo, how hard strabo is trying but it doesn't matter because he keeps hurting sejanus again and again, how much he wants to be a good father but it's simply not enough. he has a lot of love for sejanus, and you can see it so clearly, but that love does nothing but hurt his son.

hardest scene to write: the scene of strabo and sejanus having the talk in sejanus' room after the arena incident, but, specially, this bit of dialogue:

"At your age, Sejanus, I had dropped out of school. I sold weapons I made until the calluses on my fingers bled because I needed to support my family." "And where is your family? I never met any of them. Not even when we lived in District 2. Did you do to them what you do to me? Hurt them and then play the victim? That's all you know how to do." Sejanus talked too much. Strabo clenched his fists. "So that's it?" his voice came out bitter, even hurt. "You think it's worth saying these things to your own father all because of a boy from the Districts? All this because of a boy from the Districts?" "He wasn't just a boy from the Districts," Sejanus's voice was choked when he spoke. "You barely knew that boy, Sejanus. You went to school together for some time, and that was it." "But I could have known him. I could have. He could have been everything. If you hadn't ruined my life."

favorite character to write in the fic: STRABO. before carcará, I've only written strabo in a more direct way in some bits of dialogues in my pa said shoot, and for the carrie au (tho I don't really count the carrie au because it's not how I envision him 100% in canon, as this was a very different situation etc etc). carcará was my first time writing him in a more direct way, and I discovered how much FUN is writing that man. he's rageful, he's paranoid, he's a loser, he has anger issues, he has issues, he's a dumbass. he's rlly the funniest character I've written in a while.

favorite dynamic to write in the fic: strabo and the twins!! I rlly wanted to write more of them, ngl! I liked too much the idea of strabo being a parentified sibling, and the twins loved him so much, they adore him with all their hearts

why I chose the title: the title comes from a brazilian song called carcará! it's a really old song, and it's about a bird that's famous in the northeast brasil area! that area, in specific, has a harsh climate and living conditions, and the song is about the bird being willing to do anything it needs to survive. tho the song is about the bird, it serves as a metaphor for the northeastern immigrants in southeastern brasil, and everything they were willing to do to survive. on top of that, the vibes of the song remind me of vaquero culture, and for some reason I think it fit the imagery I had in my head!

a fun fact about the fic: I ended up doing a playlist for strabo based on it 😭

[tiredemzz]

ngl.. imagine an twiddlefinger cover with this silly au that I remembered making about:

Lovesick Bread! Swaysway -

Emmy -

•

•

•

The song would be called like L0VES!CK or something like that- not good with tiles.

Can’t think of lyrics tho- probably something like this:

after all..

of the wasted episodes

need to get a taste of your heart

need a little taste of your blood

then we can finally be together

you’re everything that I ever wanted

just a single kiss and i’m through

there’s no need to beg or bargain

because all I need is you

- - -

The Lore:

Swaysway decided to eat the love loaf when no one was looking in the garage, after eating a bite of it.. Emmy suddenly walked into the garage b/c she was looking for Sway and she sees Sway on Lovesick Mode. Making Sway falling in love with her and them suddenly had to rap battle and Sway singing lyrics while Emmy looked terrified.

Swaysway with long hair was inspired by my friend who drew Swaysway with long hair

Emmy belongs to me

Swaysway belongs to Breadwinners

Uh, I guess that’s all I can tell- enjoy the designs, AU and the lore. Not sure if this should become an fnf song- I would love it to become one b/c that would make me happy ngl. I miss this AU.

Btw, forgot to mention that there’s like.. 2 endings lel

[j2zara]

j3 BEGGING j4 to leave the j2j3 hookup out of the memoir is so good. like it’s bad enough but maybe understandable and forgivable that he slept with their manager. all of them were sleeping with porter, they were all being played by him and trying to seek his favor as a way to crawl out of the burning embers of their band by the end of it. but j2? bluejay? their little songbird?? what purpose could that serve except to get back at j4 for being cold to him. i think in this verse the j2j3 hookup occured while j4 was on some mountain retreat trying to find herself/rediscover her passion for music after an exhausting tour that had her and j3 at each others’ throats.

Fkdksksklakds YEAH NGL J2j3 hookup happening while j4 was discovering herself TOTALLY tracks. And it’s like. J4 making the choice to try and disentangle herself and reconstitute herself as her own person (bc she’s always gonna keep wanting to do that) meanwhile it’s like J3’s caving to I want everything impulses. I want to understand the thing you did that hurt me so why not. Let me decimate my own life and yours.

And the thing I love abt J2’s involvement in this is when he gets to be a little bit messy bc it’s like. This is not a version of their life where they’re trapped in Jace’s stupid basement under threat of dispellment and j4 or j3 running straight into Bluejay’s arms for some fucking. Meager semblance of pleasure and understanding to cope. didn’t HAVE to be the strategy of choice and they both did it anyway. And Bluejay partook anyway. And even tho I just said they’re not trapped in the torment nexus but also to some degree maybe the torment nexus never goes away bc it’s like. He’s so suckered into jaceporter hell that SURE! Maybe he sees LJ3 and it’s like oh so another perfect duo who make me feel confident and secure and complete. Maybe I can catch a glimmer of THAT if I can’t have Jaceporter.

And like. It kinda hurts that when j3 does his romcom beat grovel to j4 that it’s clear j2 falls under the category in J3’s life of “flings that didn’t mean anything where I fucked around just to feel something”. But like. What are you gonna do. This was always gonna happen. I exist to be a stepping stone for other people. And like. It sucks that he has to be collateral in this bc they have each other meanwhile he’s still getting ghosted by j4 abt the whole thing. But he can do anything with a broken heart right.

There’s ONE song in their reunion album that is mainly a j2 special that the fans pick up have “is this…. About j3” vibes and everyone is like you’re crazy. That would never happen. Stans are gonna stan again.

Unrelated to Jace + the Jaces au but it is continually funny that everyone including LJ3 is like oh Bluejay is so perfect and adorable he can’t even rebel in any way that matters meanwhile he’s in the middle of the torment nexus of two pivotal relationship dramas

[janetbrown711]

happy holidays :D

favorite fic you wrote this year

favorite writing song/artist/album of this year

Oh geez these are toughies

I think of this year my fic has to be the entire dadsy of two au!!authors!!!

...what do you mean that doesn't count? What do you mean I have to choose? WHAT DO YOU MEAN ITS ALMOST BEEN A YEAR???????

Anyways uh-- I think my favorite as of right now is either Our Trio's Down to Two or The Monsters Gone, He's on the Run. Both I believe are excellent character studies of kid MK and kid Mei and provide such neat perspectives of such difficult situations for kids to handle. I really adore them so much oughhhh (also I loved writing Sandy he's so nice I miss him)

My favorite band to write to has been The Crane Wives for the longest time, but indie band Autoheart is slowly climbing up there ngl

Fav song probably ended up being A Sadness Runs Through Him tho bc it ended up being my #1 on my Spotify wrapped lmaoooo we love some good angst and character dives

[apricusapollo]

Fic Writer 20 Questions

thanks for the tag @babygirlbridger 🤭💞

1.) How many works do you have on ao3?

40 🚶🏻‍♀️ I am supposed to have more but I archived some a while ago because they were so bad

2.) What’s your ao3 word count?

572,080

3.) What fandoms do you write for?

I've written for haikyuu but I'm not really in that fandom anymore so now I mainly write for star wars & red white and royal blue. occasionally marauders fandom too.

4.) What are your top five fics by kudos?

paper rings - jegulus

somethin' stupid (like, "I love you") - jegulus

english lover affair - firstprince

golden says of yore - jegulus

running through rose thorns - firstprince

6.) What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

definitely until the sunrise hold me tight. sometimes I wonder what I was high on when I wrote that.

7.) What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

paper rings <33

8.) Do you get hate on fics?

nope, never gotten it.

9.) Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I started a while ago and it's lowkey soo fun ngl 🤭 I usually used to avoid writing it but. not anymore.

10.) Do you write cross overs? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

oh boy. I used to. my very first famous fanfic was called fragile world. used to post it on Instagram and wattpad. it included *clears throat* shadowhunters, glee, 13 reasons why, skam, eyewitness 🧍🏻‍♀️ but in my defense I was, what, 12-13? I have CHANGED.

11.) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

yeaa it was kiss in the kitchen. someone reposted it on wattpad without my permission and gabby found it and told me. they did take it down after I told them to tho.

12.) Have you ever had a fic translated?

YEAH!! made me so happy.

13.) Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

well usually me and yana come up with the plot of my fics together sometimes. there's this one jegulus fic based on a couple of hamilton songs I wanna write and yana came up with more than half of the plot so yeah!! that counts!!

14.) What’s your all time favourite ship?

I think firstprince. they're just so. *muffled sobs*

15.) What’s a WIP you’d like to finish, but doubt you ever will?

in 2021 I started writing iwaoi attack on titan au. I had outline ready, I wrote 2 chapters out of 5 and all of that. then I never continued it. it still exists in my docs but I forgot half of the plot so I doubt I'll ever finish and post it but who knows. never say never.

16.) What are your writing strengths?

writing angst?? Idk I think I'm quite good at that for a girl who has never had her heart broken (in a romantic sense)

17.) What are your writing weaknesses?

DESCRIPTIONS. god I HATE describing things. I'd rather die than describe anything.

18.) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I mean, I don't think I'll succeed (unless it's in georgian which is my native language) and considering that I mess up english sometimes, maybe it's for the best if I just stick to one language 😭😭

19.) First fandom you wrote for?

one direction. I was 9 y/o. write it in a notebook with a sparkly pen. it was called "love."

20.) Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

I have a couple so here's the list idc

paper rings

english love affair

sacred touches & wasted days

the end is here

better than revenge ('cause he's like so whatever)

champagne problems

(I'm too lazy to attach links to all of them so here's my ao3)

again, I hate tagging people so pls do this if u wanna mwah<3

[mazegays]

fic meme!!

thank u clod @manako-no-yami for the tag : )

rules: randomly select ten fics and then pick a line from each to share

this love came back to me (maze runner)

“Whatever you need, Thomas. Always. I’m not leaving.” Minho kisses his head softly. “Anywhere I should I avoid?”

this one is vv soft, if you're used to only whump from me. i can do soft too!

seven for a secret (criminal minds)

He’d held Emily as she was dying. Most mornings, he woke up and thought her blood was still on his hands.

there is a whole fic this one is based off, if you're into criminal minds i've got it linked

anywhere, as long as i'm with you (maze runner)

“Cause I know you.” Harriet kissed her, lips gritty with sand. The only thing she missed about the Maze was clean kisses.

humor, girls in love, and of course hurt/comfort

forever (on my lips) (pjo)

(the day they no longer smelled like him, the day she lost that little bit more of him, she cried herself to sleep.)

taylor swift fans, you know already. non-taylor swift fans, this is very sad. it barely gets better

haunted memories (memories, memories, memories) (maze runner)

His parents hadn’t gotten to raise either of them, and only one had returned.

(He isn't even whole.)

short and sad and sweet. also skimming this one for the line made me want to write more in this particular verse so we will see. thomas and gally being friends means so much to me in this fic

i can't read your mind (but you'll share your thoughts anytime) (maze runner)

"Oh good, you're awake." His captor yanked a knife--so that's what he'd been throwing--out of the tree next to him.

long and also sad! read the tags on this one. it's also from before i switched to present-tense (which is entirely thanks to clod, actually) and it's giving me an urge to rewrite it in present tense. that's an non-exam-week issue tho

if only we'd known (maze runner)

Minho finally sat up, seemingly unashamed to have turned into a koala overnight.

cute and sappy with a lil sprinkling of angst. modern magic au that i want to live in

could already feel your kiss (maze runner)

“Sure you weren’t. He’s quite the pretty boy, you always go for those.”

vaguely 50s inspired? there is motorcycle and car racing and leather jackets. thomas and minho are both smitten. also angst, bc... hello. it's me. i'm the problem, it's me.

for the hope of it all (maze runner)

Thomas, who had picked him to show off to his parents and sister, picked him to be Chuck’s surrogate older brother when Thomas was out of town, picked him. Thomas had suggested the engagement. He didn’t have to, neither of their parents had mentioned anything. Thomas had picked him.

very sad. lots of minho emotional whump here.

suits and swords (maze runner)

"And Prince Thomas?" "He is very tiny and sweet. I like him best." His mother laughed.

ngl i miss this one. i created two religions for it, got spreadsheets and everything. and also very large family trees. might be time to properly revisit it. it's an a/b/o royal au, with me inventing fashion and social rules as i please

taylor swift song lyric titles featured here: only 3, surprisingly

anyway it's like. 11 pm for me rn so tagging might be short lol:

@its-tea-time-darling

@crestfallercanyon

@itsthemxze

@sunsetglader

[juyomiao]

HI LI ❤️ i hope u good day have yes ‼️

1) top3 songs to make u feel like u rule the world

2) favourite bp/zb1 quote ?

3) give me 1 cat name

4) whats a quote u go by ?

5) do u like mint choc ? (the answer is yes)

6) orange or apple juice (the answer is apple)

7) what inspires your work ?!?

• okay li ily, congrats on 400 followers ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

i had a stroke reading that first sentence but HI FAITH 🫶🏻

1) bad habits by cravity , prism by the boyz n ego by the boyz ‼️

2) arhhegdh idk the only thing my brain can process rn is osuke doing his silly little totoro sound in his pr video

3) all the cat names i can think for r in my 1st language n not creative ,, if i ever had a cat i'd name it jotaro tho ngl (ik ik looser jjba fan back at it again) or mocha like the sanrio character

4) this very deep n interesting quote honestly (if u go google translate it n start wondering wtf is wrong with me thats on u)

5) i've never tried it !! unfortunately im a rlly picky eater (autistic) n very sensitive to strong flavors like mint (autistic) BUT if theres some kind of mint choco that tastes more like choco than mint TELL ME‼️i'll find it n try it so i can be part of the mint choco discourse

6) APPLE JUICE ALL THE WAY‼️‼️ i dont like orange juice it makes me want to barf

7) being delusional ! im not even joking , before branching out to reader insert fics n smaus i started out as a self insert writer , my google docs is basically only self insert fics n has been like that since i was 13 (i have a ~30k words ateez fic i started in 2019 n a 10k words the boyz maverick au those two r my pride n joy , only one is nothing in comparison) do i need therapy ? yes . is writing self insert fics a lot more fun than therapy ? also yes !

thank u faith ily‼️‼️‼️‼️

[neutrallyobsessed]

today is the day guys. when i finished posting my first fic ever.

i was suposed to do this on its anniversary but i thought that the end date was the start and kinda missed my own anniversary of starting to post shit online but oh well

POINT BEING. I AM WRITING.

i've been writing but as you can imagine, drawing takes priotity and sometimes is hard yknow? im taking this opportunity to tell ya bout the things i've been writing n what to expect and such:

a mtmtk+gen one-shot nice and short. it has invstigating of a case and that's difficult

a post-soj au bout Edgeworth (1/9 finished). what was silly jokes and references has turned into a something with a court scene and that's difficult

smut. a nrmy one-shot i thought of because of the song i named it after, it's not a big deal but has a gimmick that i found funny ok?

AND a smut anthology. this ones the good one. pretty proud of what i've written so far~ (2/5 finished)

the zip.lore comic of course! the thing is that i was so concentrated in drawing and putting things on the right place that i kinda forgot to write the dialogue lol. que cosas, no? but dont worry, im on it. i just, i just want to know how many pages will it have, but whatev

something that was going to be a one-shot is now two chapters that i'm writting simultansly becaUSE I FEEL LIKE IT, but this collection has self-contained stories so it only gets updated when i have an idea that fits. in any case its thief kay and kayworth propaganda

a kristahlia fic i haven't started lol, i'll see what i can do bout it

i also have a pre-relationship kayworth i did on a physical notebook, i should finish it ngl~~

AND MY MAGNUS OPUS. A Narumayo/Mitsumiku Royal AU fic. i dont know how many chapters or how the hell imma write it cause, what do i do? a fic? a script? a comic? an sometimes illustrated book? ALL OF THEM? idk, im definitely eating more than i can chew with this one but i'll work it out. i know how everything goes, but i feel like i should write the end first and every piece will fall to its place. as always~~

so yeap! busy girl i am! so many things done and so much left to do... kinda feel bad for ""abandoning"" my ao3 account but some ppl have abandonded for much longer or are less organized with their fic writing so i don't feel as bad ^^. it's not a big deal tho, im happy for all what i've donde so far

and now i wanna take a moment to talk about all the people who complained to hell and back about kayworth existing before i started making content. because bitches talk like shit was EVERYWHERE AND COMPLETELY UNAVOIDABLE and like.......... that's not the case? like yeah i can find kayworth when i look for it but it's not shoved in my face ejem other ships...... not to mention that i've scrapped the end of the barrel that is kw content, translating jp fics with google and, you can imagine how well that goes lmao

in any case, now ppl are complaining about me, specifically! that's so cool and epic!!jskajskskdjskd cheers to your love, your hate and more years to come~~!