#then it needs a title and that's really the problem

[drjdorr]

Got inspired to do fan fic of a d and d game I play in(in the d and d setting) from this prompt but it was Looooong so I put a "read more" so it doesn't fill people's entire dash

Jysgo is brought out, not wearing his customarily finery since they didn't want to risk him inevitably having a hidden dagger they failed to find, to a massive arena. He nodded in something that could almost be praise, he had asked for his execution to be a spectacle, Sinabi had delivered.

The stands were crowded with spectators, while most looked at Jysgo with hatred, many even futility trying to throw stuff at him, he did notice more than a few sending a bit of that venom in the king's direction. Probably wasn't a good look doing the very thing that the giants the rebelled against did, even if it was at the condemned's request.

Jysgo gave a smug smirk towards Sinabi who fumed back in return. Jysgo was sure the human could work around this, adapt, the cleverness was something that Jysgo almost respected about the surface dweller.

Looking around the stadium, Jysgo saw the rest of the royal entourage scattered throughout. The elven Queen Maeralya of course sitting next to her husband, she looked more outfitted for court than battle Jysgo noticed, though he knew with her being a wizard looks could be deceiving. Khar along with his cult of gnolls wasn't hard to find with their distinctively colored cloaks. Neither was Zzissu with her contrasting Abeil stripes, buzzing overhead. And hard to miss the brightly colored 15 foot mushroom that was known as the Monkanid. Jysgo had to scan the crowd for the half elf Hugo, they didn't look that threatening with only a bow out, but Jysgo had seen just how deadly that bow could be. And glancing at the armored soldiers across from him, Jysgo felt no surprise seeing the dromite Kato.

"Jysgo Olar-" Sinabi began

"Spymaster Jysgo Olar, Giant Slayer, Troll Slayer, and the elf responsible for doing what was needed to save this kingdom" Jysgo corrected

"Jysgo Olar," Sinabi persisted with a snarl, refusing to use the drow's mostly self appointed titles, "for the massacre of innocent people, you have been sentenced to death by a method of Your Own choosing," He gestures around, "that being by combat against armed combatants while you yourself are armed with a wooden training sword."

"I felt like the challenge." Jysgo said to the guard holding him who seemed less than amused

"Have you any last words?" Sinabi regretted the words almost as soon as they left his mouth

"But of course." Jysgo said with a grin, "people of this fine kingdom, I admit it, I killed those innocent people." He let the expectation angry responses die down before he continued, "but all I did was what I was paid to do. I was paid to fix problems, and the best solution to the problem had those dozens of people die, so thousands of people could live." He emphasizes his statement by gesturing out at the crowd with his shackled hands.

"We don't trade innocent lives"

"Sure you do, what would you call it when innocent people join your army. You traded their innocent lives for them to fight to protect all of their innocent lives. How is what I did any worse?"

"Because they chose to fight to protect others, the people you killed didn't choose!"

"But do they really know what they will face joining your ar-"

Thunder interrupts Jysgo's rebuttal as Sinabi stands, "you had your trial, this is your execution! Bailiff, give him his sword!"

Jysgo could barely hide his smile as the guard pushes a wooden practice sword into his hands, he had annoyed the man and better yet, people had begun to whisper among the crowd. Didn't matter how accurate what he said was, so long as it got people questioning the current regime, though that out burst certainly didn't hurt.

As the bailiff started walking away Jysgo held up his shackled hands, "aren't these going to be unlocked?"

"I had assumed they already had been"

Jysgo shrugged as he flicked them open, "I mean you aren't wrong. Though it is interesting how you are so quick to execute the person with the most dirt o-"

"Enough," thunder rolled before he turned to the warriors across from Jysgo, "just get this over with already"

Jysgo crouched into a fighting stance as the armored fighters charged at him. At a glance he counted 9 besides Kato.

The first one arrived and swung his sword, which Jysgo blocked with a slashing motion, taking careful steps, one at a time, to get the best positions.

Wood slivers flew from his blade with every blocked strike whittling away his sword till he suddenly dodged to the side avoiding the warhammer that crumpled in the breastplate Jysgo had seen the strike coming in.

"You seem to have missed," Jysgo mocked as he began dodging the swings of the warhammer. "Slow, predictable, and," he stabbed his sharpened training sword under the armpit causing a gurgling gasp as his opponent dropped his hammer, "leaves you open." As he withdrew the blade he mused, "seems I hit a lung. I'm not use to using such off balance weapons, I was aiming for the heart." He casually side stepped a flail before closing the distance and shoving the tip in a small gap under the chest before withdrawing it to a collapsed opponent, "that's better."

He rolled away as a man whose armor was more spikes than armor tried to grab him before giving a sigh, "too easy." He ducked under the next swing of his arms, snapping one hand cuff onto him before yanking his arm to block an oncoming glaive, "not wanting to wait your turn?" He then yanked the spiked armored warrior's arm to stab his own head, "very well, I was just finishing with him," before he blocked the next swing and pinned it down with the cross guard of his training sword, running down the haft to be right in front of him and in a movement faster than the eye could follow, Jysgo's blade slid into the eye slit of his opponent.

"This is fun and all but this will be easier like this," with a few quick gestures and words he was seemingly gone. And quickly the vulnerabilities of their armors were shown to all as bleeding holes opened up on them one by one as they desperately looked and flailed around for the invisible drow, an occasional amused chuckle being all any of them had to guess on till the only ones left on the field were Kato, a young goliath with a mace, and that drow.

"On our right" Kato called out in time for the goliath to turn his shield and hear wood on metal as a smiling drow suddenly appeared

"And here I was worried that this would be boring" Jysgo joked before recasting his invisibility before an ax swung just close enough that a few white hairs fluttered to the arena floor.

"You can't sneak up on us traitor, I can smell you approach." Kato said, making sure they were close enough to the goliath to give him fair warning Also how in the hive do you smell so clean, you've been locked in a cell!"

"It's called proper hygiene. Surely with such cramped living conditions, you dromites are familiar." The sound of wood on wood can be heard as Kato blocks a strike, "and being a traitor would require I was on your side. You of all people should understand I was only ever on my side"

A few moments of silence. A small puff of dust is kicked up.

"Ignore it," Kato tells the goliath as he turns his shield in that direction, "it's an obvious mis- LEFT!"

The two quickly turn in the direction of the drow who only gives the slight crunch of moving sand as he twists past the goliath's shield and Kato feels a few warm droplets before swinging their shield and sending the revisible drow tumbling as the goliath collapses, the blade having snuck under the edge of his helmet into the soft lower pallet.

"Not my cleanest work," Jysgo said as he stands, flicking blood off his blade giving his shoulder a little roll, "your nasty trick of being able to smell me made an inconvenient-" he barely had time to jump back as Kato's ax swung were his unprotected intestines were a moment ago, the proximity to the enchanted weapon leaving a line of frost across Jysgo's shirt.

They went back and forth, Kato almost casually blocking every strike from Jysgo and Jysgo dodging the lethal swings of Kato's ax sometimes only by a hair with Kato moving in as quickly as his little legs can carry him

At one point Jysgo has a moment of time and goes invisible again.

"I thought we established this traitor!" Kato yelled, their eyes trained as close onto where they smelt Jysgo as they could, "I! Can! Smell! You!"

Jysgo didn't respond before suddenly charging at the dromite, his blade dragging in the sand, kicking it up in a clear line.

Kato had no time to guess what he was doing before the blade was picked up from the ground, Kato's shield braced when they smelled the drow go up. A great strategy for anyone who couldn't smell him Kato thought to themself as they raised their shield to follow the drow's arc before they felt a pair of soft impacts, not like wood on wood, more like... Kato suddenly realizes what's happening as they notice they're right next to the wall

Jysgo jumped off the dromite's shield and manged to grab the edge of the wall and pulled himself up

"He's making a break for it!" Kato shouted as the rest of the royal entourage moves into action.

Jysgo begins to book it ,he knows how fast they can move as he hears Sinabi order the arena locked down, no one in or out.

He ducks behind a pillar as his invisibility drops, already partway through a spell to disguise himself. He has moments before- he leaps out of the way as a lightning bolt crashes into where he was just standing. Good news, people are panicking and that can provide cover. Bad news, the abeil had found him before he could get a disguise up.

He started moving with the crowd, the worst attacks most of them had hit wide areas, they wouldn't risk firing them into a crowd. Unfortunately people in the crowd where recognizing him and moving away. Also Unfortunately from the slight rumble, the giant mushroom was approaching fast.

Suddenly a nearby section of the stands burst into flames, and then another and another. Suddenly the crowd was less concerned with the condemned criminal and more concerned with getting away from the flames. It also distracted the entourage long enough for Jysgo to slip into one of the interior tunnels along with some of the crowd.

Taking this quick window Jysgo brought up his disguise, an older human man, and especially made sure to disguise his prisoner rags. Right as the glamor finished the hulking form of the myconid entered the hall, its head going side to side, searching the crowd as a faint amount of spores drifted from it.

Obviously nothing dangerous, Sinabi would never allow it... but comunication spores he probably would. Easy enough to work around, Jysgo thought, just don't think into the group. Easy.

And suddenly the minds of everyone in that hall was bombarded by everyone else's thoughts. Jysgo watched on in amusement as everyone suddenly jolted in surprise and confusion, some clutching their heads from their minds suddenly being so filled with others thoughts. It's only as the fungus' face locked onto him and the face of his disguise was broadcasted across the mental link that Jysgo realized his error in staying calm and collected and started shoving through the crowd as in contrast it parted as fast as it could for the usually terrifyingly fast behemoth after him.

Jysgo looked for an escape route that he wouldn't be followed through and never hated living in such an accommodating multi cultural place more. And then he saw a maintenance door and moved towards it.

The slight rumble, far to quite for something of that size, told him how close it was behind him as he reached the door and went to open it. Locked. He slammed his fist against the door, locked. Again, locked. Again, it had unlocked and he slipped inside as he felt the spongy fingers barely miss him before slamming the door shut.

"Hey buddy," A gnome looked at the human(drow) who had just ran into the maintenance area, slightly out of breath, "this is a restricted area. You can't just come in here."

Jysgo took a moment to composed himself before replying, "I am an inspector doing a surprise inspection." He tapped the door he had just come through, "you see this door? I just demonstrated with a proper impact in the right location, the locking mechanism comes undone. That is not a secure door and you should see about getting that replaced."

"...Uh-huh." The gnome slowly responds before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a sending stone and begins talking into it, "Hey central? Can someone let Sinabi kn- ghk" he clutches at his throat which had just had a foot hit full force into it before it stomped onto the stone, breaking it.

"Today has been a bad day," Jysgo says to the slowly passing out gnome, unable to breath past his crushed larynx, "I'm usually great under pressure, but usually I'm aware ahead of time of pressure and usually it's only handling someone as dangerous as one of those guys, I've got seven." Jysgo sighed looking down at the unconscious gnome, "they know what door I went through, I'm sure someone will be here before you suffocate, maybe. Like I said, bad day, usually I'm more professional." Looking at the gnome before heading off he redoes his disguise, it's a bit taller than the gnome should be but should be good enough at a distance.

He heads into the bowels of maintenance, he knew the back areas of the city enough that he could navigate it with his eyes closed. Unfortunately the only places he could navigate in here is other places in this maintenance or the arena above as the arena was a relatively closed system and didn't connect to any other buildings through their tunnels. He would definitely have tried to change that if it wasn't for the wanted for execution thing. Jysgo smiled to himself atleast it's accurate this time and not some sloppy frame job

He finds the door to concessions and goes through. The food prep area was mostly abandoned at this point, and quite a bit of the ingredients had been replaced with flasks of a rather reactive liquid.

"You know," Jysgo turned towards the masked figure sitting behind him, silent as the grave, "you could have set off the fires a little earlier Number Two. Would have made things way easier"

The masked figure slid off his seat to stand before Jysgo and flashing him some quick signs of drow sign language <sorry sir. The abeil found you sooner than expected>

"Whatever. Did you aquire my things?"

<yes, our associate dropped them off after escorting you to the arena> Number Two handed the box of possessions to Jysgo who quickly opened it and began dressing himself in his proper attire.

"You never realize how nice that protective aura of magic is till you lose it." He wiggles his body making sure everything sits correctly as he slides his wooden blade into a loop of his belt. "Is everything in position to move to contingency stage 2?"

<yes sir>

"Then let's do it"

‐---------------------------------------

"Drow matching Jysgo's hight and build heading your way Khar" Zzissu said over the comunication spores

"On it"

The gnoll hid in wait for the drow. Seeing him, he looked like Jysgo, down to the finest detail, but Khar could see he didn't ask like Jysgo. Firstly, moving so openly looking as himself? Standing so casually when he needs to hide? Moving into a sparsely populated area when the entourage is hunting him? Heck he didn't even move like Jysgo.

Khar stepped out startling the imposter who stood tall and held the practice blade in a fencing stance. Khar could see he'd never held a blade like that in his life.

"Alright, you found me. But I will not go down with out a-"

"Where is Jysgo?" Khar interrupted, not having time for this game

"I think clearly I am righ-ugh" a wall of ice slams him into the ceiling, only his head sticking out as Khar repeats the question

"Where is Jysgo?"

"Ow. ow. I don't-ow. I think you broke my- ow everything"

"Hardly. I can demonstrate how wrong you are if I have to repeat myself though"

"I don't- ow know! I- ow don't know! I was to- ow told when I got the call to come in h- ow here, when confr- ow confronted to pretend to be- ow him, you'd go easy on me. And- ow at the end I'd get a hundred gold. I'd be set for li- ow life."

"We got fake Jysgos," Khar reported over the mental link as he left the imposter pinned to the ceiling

"Yeah, I'm starting to notice more than a few suddenly cropping up," Zzissu responded looking over the crowd in the stands

"Just caught 2 in maintenance," Kato reported

"I see one by concessions," the Monkanid passed on

"On just ran by near the main entrance, didn't approach the gate" Maeralya reported in

"Just had one try to attack me in storage" Sinabi continued the trend, "wasn't hard to catch him in his leap and it appears atleast some are in a glamor"

"Just found one mid applying the glamor by Jysgo's cell," Hugo said, "and we may have some unforseen issues. Because this was Jysgo's bailiff"

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

Jysgo looked down at the chaos as his imposters swarmed around the stadium his former allies trying chase them down incase it is him. And yet he easily climbed to the top of the arena once he got his magic focus for longer invisibility and his spider climb cloak.

He took out a sending stone, and checked for any pesky fliers before confirming they were lower down and speaking into it, "I believe it's time for stage 3"

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

"Sir- Sinabi- your grace- sir?"

Sinabi looked at the frazzled individual, a lesser noble, important enough to have been sent to him but not in charge of anything really, "what do you need? We are a little busy right now"

"I know si-sina-your- yes I know, but I was sent to tell you the city is on fire"

"I'm sorry what, actually one moment" Sinabi switches his attention from the noble to Zzissu to communicate over the spores, "Zzissu, you have the easiest access to the sky, I just got told the city is on fire"

Zzissu zoomed up to check and looked out over the city, unaware of the drow sitting and watching invisibly so close

"Yes. Nothing big yet but there is alot of fires, all over the city. Only major areas untouched are the palace and gnoll hill."

Sinabi looked at the noble, "thank you for your warning, we will handle it" and began to head for the exit, informing everyone what needs done when the noble interrupted him

"He did ask me to pass on another message"

Sinabi stopped and turned towards the man, "who?"

"The young gnoll who told me the city was on fire and to tell you. Weirdly clean gnoll too, only gnoll I've ever seen that clean is high priest Khar." Seeing the face on Sinabi's face he got to the message, "right, he told me to tell you, 'how do you think they'll react to the placements?' And asked me to give you this. Said it would explain stuff." He pulls out a small coin marked with symbols, the same kind of coin Jysgo was fond of using as a training tool for his agents.

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

<so sir,> Number Two signed as they and Jysgo slipped through the city, avoiding the entourage as they fought to control the strategically placed infernos, <what are your plans now?>

"Well I certainly can't stay here, and they know where your loyalties lie. Well as much as I do atleast. Probably going to have to lay low for a decade or two." Number Two didn't voice their doubts that Jysgo Could lay low for a full decade let alone two, "but once things have calmed down enough that learning where I am will send them hunting me down? Well, there are plenty of towns, cities, and kingdoms we could rebuild in. But we're definitely going to want to get out of here before stage 4 starts itself and the people tear this place to the ground." He chuckles at the thought

A noble sentenced to die is allowed to choose their execution method. They ask to die in honourable combat against the king's knights, armed with a wooden sword while the knights have real weapons. It's been 24 hours since the execution started and the king is running out of knights.

[wonderlandwalker]

Oh Captain, My Captain | James Potter x Reader

Marauders Masterlist / Inbox

Summary: James discovers a new kink

Content Warnings/Tags: smut, like a lot, mdni, established relationship,no use of y/n, basically porn with fluff, one (1) swear word, only slightly proofread

Word Count: 2.5k

A/n: Filth that I've had in my head for ages and finally spend all night writing because I'm dopamine deficient

James never really understood good luck charms, believing dedication and hard work were what always made the difference, but from the moment you had jokingly brought up being his, he’d been convinced. Because he loved having you at his games, even before you had started going out, at one point in the game or another he’d always try and spot you in the crowd, looking over the stands in search of you. And of course you were here today as well, but the moment he saw you in the crowds his heart dropped. He had to blink to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him, because there you were, wearing his sweater. It was such a trivial thing, yet couldn’t stop himself from staring, staring at you and the way you were cheering the team on. The house colours had always suited you so well, you’d even borrowed his sweaters before, but this, this was nothing like that. This was his sweater, the one he had tossed down on his bed earlier, opting for his jersey instead, the one with his name embroidered on it, the one with the captain patch sewed on, and he was struggling to take his eyes off you. The only reason he ended up doing so was because Marlene quite literally knocked him back into reality as they crossed paths. It caused her to lose the quaffle she had been holding, further resulting in her telling him to ‘fucking focus’. 

Right; focus. This was the championship game against Hufflepuff, he had to focus. He was the team captain after all, he shouldn't be slacking about, but his mind simply kept wondering back to that title currently adorning you as well. It was like it had awoken something in him that was buried so deep down he hadn’t even known it was there himself, something so feral he hadn’t even known to look for it, but there it was, and it was only by some sort of miracle he hadn’t enswd screwing up the entire match, because they had, in fact, won. That it was a close call chalked he up as a problem for later. 

After a win he’d usually be ecstatic, running to meet up with his teammates as he’d land, spurring them on with cheer, but right now as his feet finally met the ground he simply went past everyone as he told them he had to go. He decided to take a beeline for the changing rooms, concluding he was in dire need of a long, cold shower. But as he felt the stream hit him, all he could think about was dragging you under the water with him, about letting his hands roam free against your every single curve. And the more he thought about it, the more he could almost feel it, feel how your clothes would stick skin tight to you, feel your red and gold painted nails scratch paths down his back.  He loved the marks you’d leave, would treasure them like his own private art collection. Unfortunately, he didn’t have much more time to think about it as Frank knocked on the stall door, letting him know they were all headed back to the common room to celebrate. 

So he got dressed to head back to the castle as well. Maybe a walk with fresh air would clear his head. It wasn’t the thought itself that bothered him, he was used to those. What bothered him was their origin, because that was something new entirely. James was used to being so sickingly sweet in even the smallest of things that your friends once banned him from touching you for an entire weekend as punishment, which had been all too entertaining to everyone but him. He liked to gently coax you back onto his bed and make sure there wasn't a centimetre of your skin he hadn't touched. He’d pay close attention to every small change in your breathing, and he’d let his ears feast on the moans he’d etch from you. This wasn’t what was normally stuck on his mind after a big game, but somehow he couldn't think about winning margins if his life depended on it. The only thing stuck on his mind was you.

There you stood, in the middle of the room as he entered. You were surrounded by your friends, hands raised high with shot glasses in praise of tonight's victory. He wondered what your lips would taste like from the cherry vodka you’d like to drink, the liquor usually intoxicating both of you. And usually, he wouldn’t hesitate to go and find out, but something told him that once he started, he wouldn’t be able to stop, and this was not exactly the right place for that. So he silently slipped into the room, finding a table of drinks and getting himself a glass of fire whiskey that he drank as fast as he poured it.

As he went to stand next to you, placing his hand down onto your hip, you spun around to greet him, reaching up and kissing him before he could get himself to stop you. And when you pulled back he found himself chasing the feeling, chasing that something that tasted like more.

From that moment on, all he could do was stand there, zoned out, as he tried to listen to what everyone was saying, but all it was to him was background noise. He wondered if it would be considered rude to simply leave without saying a word, he wondered how much longer he had to stay for it not to be. But he suddenly got snapped back when heard a burst of cheers coming from his left side. And as he looked over he could see why, you were standing on one of the coffee tables with Marlene, dancing on top of it with her. As he tuned back in he heard Lay All Your Love on Me from Abba playing, he knew you could never resist this song.

Your hips were going along with it in a way he thought should be considered sinful. And as the chorus came to an end he coaxed you down next to him, catching you in his arms as you stumbled down. But before you could make another move he was prompting you towards the stairs, determined as he walked up to the dorm rooms with you. You weren’t used to seeing him so quiet, to how pensive he was acting. The silence in between you was so thick you didn’t dare break it either, not until you reached the bedroom and he closed the door behind you.

“James what’s going on-”

“You’re wearing my sweater.” It was more of a statement than anything else, and it made you unsure of how to respond, but not wanting to leave him unanswered with how solemnly he was staring at your face you did so anyway, even if it was just rambling.

“I thought it’d bring extra luck, I found it on your bed, I should've asked, I can go change-” 

But right then he stopped your spiralling immediately, pushing you further against the door, trapping you against it. “Don’t you dare take it off.” You could see the fire behind his eyes now, feel the dominance that was seeping off him tonight, and that’s when all of a sudden, for you, it made sense. It was new, sure, but it was obvious, and it made you wonder how far you could push him until he’d break. 

“So make me stop.” It was such a childish sentiment, but it did the trick. And you weren’t entirely sure how you had expected him to react, but James didn’t waste another second before he connected his lips with yours, clashing against you as he did.

It wasn’t the usual tender-hearted James you were used to, it was a fever dream rush of movement, and from the moment he got what he had been craving after all night, he was insatiable about it. He started to trail kisses down your neck, practically biting a path down to your chest, he let his hands palm over the back of your legs, he made his way over every part of you he could find quick access to. And so you weren’t surprised when he hoisted you up his body so he could walk down to the bed, throwing you down on it the moment he reached it.

He created only a small window of time when stripping himself of his shirt, grabbing your ankles to pull you closer, finding your lips once again. He didn’t let any further time pass before trailing his hands down over thighs, starting to feel how slick they already were as he got higher up.

“You like this don’t you darling, you like seeing me riled up?” His face was harsher than usual, clenched together from the self-control he had to keep all night, and it was certainly doing things to you. It didn’t take much longer for his fingers to find your clit, already rubbing circles onto it as he used his other hand to rid himself of his trousers. His gaze was still focused on you, watching you with more determination than you had ever seen in him before. You were looking back at him with hooded eyes, gasping as he mercilessly continued, your head falling back as you saw him free his cock. He was as desperate as you were, but he was clearly better at masking it, and you were about to plead as he gave you exactly what you wanted. He lined himself up, pushing all the way inside in one, fast, thrust.

There wasn’t a build-up, there wasn’t any hesitation as he simply pulled all the way out, before fully pumping himself back in, setting an agonisingly fast pace that you slowly started to get addicted to. And he keeps giving it to you for a bit longer before he abruptly stops. It makes you open your eyes again to see him, seeing the clogs turn through his eyes as he drops your legs from his grasp before bringing an arm under your back and flipping you so he’s lying on the bed. 

You already know exactly what he wants, anchoring yourself with a hand on his chest as you sit up, straddling him, sinking down onto him. This time you try and force your eyes to stay open, determined to see how his eyes roll to the back of his head, even though the pleasure is overwhelming you as well. As you start to move back and forth you can feel him even deeper than before, but you can’t quite set the same pace as him, and once his eyes find their focal point on you, when he roams his eyes over your figure and over the sweater you still had on, you can see his gaze turn dark again. His hands move from where they had settled just above your ass to find a firm grip on your hips instead, forcefully moving them to go faster, finding that same brutal pace from earlier. You can feel his muscles flexing at the action and the combination of it all is starting to turn your body numb from the pleasure, luckily for you, he’s learned to read you like a book by now.

“Let go for me, honey.” It’s a whisper, and you’re surprised at how clear you can hear it with how hazy everything else is right now. And as he feels you cumming a feral groan finds its way up from deep within his chest, and you didn’t know he could, but he starts to move even faster. The only thing your mind is capable of at the moment is to mumble pleas and moan his name like a mantra, you’re not sure how much longer you can take it but you don’t dare asking him to stop either. You can feel how close he is, how desperate he has become for the release. The muscles in his abdomen tense up, his jaw clenched impossibly tight and you recognize his rushed breathing pattern. He doesn’t make you wait much longer before you can feel him spilling into you, unending profanities and prayers of your name leaving him as he does.

And for the first time since you entered the room there is a moment of simply nothing, you relax to find a comfortable position laying down on him, tangling your limbs together on pure instinct. You could swear you zoned out for a minute or two, but now you can feel him trace patterns down your arm, a habit of his that could lull you right to sleep, but you know the night is still young. 

“You wanna head back down to celebrate your championship?” You’re sure your friends are in the middle of some muggle drinking game you’d easily be able to join, but James declines the offer.

“Sweetheart, this right here is reward enough for me” You know he means it too, that he’s made it back to his golden hearted self, but per usual, you can't help but taunt him

“Whatever you say, Captain.” The sarcasm in your statement is thick, but as you say it you can see his pupils expanding, his breathing becoming a bit more shallow as you feel him become hard again. He flips you over once more, caging you between his arms as he looks straight into your eyes.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish darling” You’re pulling at his strings again, and you hadn’t done so on purpose, but you’re enjoying it immensely. 

“Oh I have every intent on finishing Jamie." At your words James ducks down into another heated kiss, moving one of his hands to finally take his sweater off you, a mischievous grin on his face as he trails his way down your body.

“As your Captain, I suppose I should help you with that.” You’d make another remark back if you weren’t already so lost in pleasure again. He’d made his way down to your cunt, eating you out with a fervor that made you moan out for him as your fingers found their way into his hair. The night was definitely still young, and as the party downstairs continued to drown out the noises you were making, you weren’t planning on making it end anytime soon either.

[cash-legacy]

SOGUE MAGAZINE, WINTER 2024

The Blood of the Innocent: Judith Ward's Dirty Little Secret

(For the Occultify a Sim challenge in the Occult Simblr Discord)

Nobody will forget the feeling of seeing their childhood favorite movie star twenty years later. The nostalgia of seeing their face, the weird awareness of your own mortality as you take in the new wrinkles and lines. Did she have those kids when she filmed that movie? Were they really that young? I'm older than he was when he filmed that one show... But one Del Sol face has yet to bear the scars of time - the ever-iconic Judith Ward. In our interview, Ward told me exactly how she's stayed just so young and lovely: consensual Vampirism.

Want more? Read the rest of the article below the cut!

This announcement comes at a complicated time for Simerica, as anti-Occult sentiments have spread across the nation like wildfire, and public opinion has shifted away from their support. Vampires especially, known for their "inborn" violent tendencies towards ordinary Sims, face a great deal of discrimination in many regions. Some Sims view this as a safety measure, a means of keeping natural killers away from their families. Recent legislation has attempted to make this a national issue, as opposed to a region-specific one, as proposed by senators Victor Feng and Anne Thorne, of San Myshuno and Copperdale respectively. Others sympathize with the Occult cause. Feng and Thorne's bill failed to get the required majority, but it was close. Many Sims on both sides of the political spectrum felt that the vote should have swung one way or another, and celebrities across Simerica have taken to speaking their piece. Judith Ward's, however, may be the most personal - and impactful - of them all. We conducted our interview at Ward's Del Sol house:

WHY NOW? "Now is precisely the right time to speak up about these things. Sims across the nation are wondering what to believe, and who to trust. And they know they can trust me. If being open about what I am convinces even a single Sim to join the cause and protect my people, it will have been worth all the backlash I expect to face." YOU CALLED IT CONSENSUAL VAMPIRISM. EXPLAIN THAT? "It's true that untrained or under-educated Vampires can cause massive harm to populations, especially in small towns. But the solution to that problem isn't punishing them, or stripping them of their resources. We've seen what happens when you do that. It's why we've had this moment of tension in the first place. But when provided the resources needed to survive harmlessly, Vampires are no more dangerous than any other Sim." BUT... "CONSENSUAL?" "I keep a few Sims in my employ. Times are tough, and I pay handsomely. It's in cooperation with a private medical practice, they're thoroughly informed beforehand, and it's all quite sterile and ethical, don't you worry." TELL ME ABOUT YOUR EXPERIENCE WITH VAMPIRISM. "I admit, when I first signed up for it, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. It was frightening. The transformation can be quite painful, particularly in the first few days. I've had some issues with work, too. I have to film daylight scenes in short bursts, or on soundstages. I've lost more than a few roles because of it. But I've got it easy, all things considered. My heart really goes out to all those who don't have such flexibility in their careers."

It's hard to say for certain where Occult politics will lead. Polling is wildly polarized across and within regions, and extremism on both sides is rampant. More and more prominent social figures are taking stances, and Judith Ward certainly won't be the last. Only time will tell which way the political compass will turn. See you next time, LINCOLN BROADSHEET

CelebCrave: Sogue Journalist Fired After Political Tantrum!

"They wildly misrepresented me," complained former Sogue interviewer Lincoln Broadsheet, in a recent Social Bunny post. "I didn't approve the cover or the title... It's incredibly hurtful to see such a prominent magazine ignore my intentions as a writer like this... And they fired me over it. Writers like me get fired for trying to provide the truth, instead of writing for clicks." Read the full Social Bunny thread here: Lincoln Broadsheet @ LBWrites replying to @[...] They wildly misrepresented me and Judith. It was a huge lapse in judgment from Sogue, and their decision to fire me when I protested was irresponsible. 1/8 Lincoln Broadsheet @ LBWrites I didn't approve the cover or the title. My articles are always unbiased, especially when they're about such decisive subjects. It's incredibly hurtful to see such a prominent magazine ignore my intentions as a writer like this. 2/8 Lincoln Broadsheet @ LBWrites I couldn't sit by without speaking out, and they fired me over it. It hurts to see how many Sims don't care about misinformation and biased reporting. These issues are rampant, and writers like me get fired for trying to provide the truth, instead of writing for clicks. 3/8 [...]

[dogtoling]

General life- and blog update , since I assume at least a few people might have been wondering where I've been and what i've been up to recently. I obviously haven't been posting or drawing much this year in general. This will probably be an important post if you care about stuff on this blog, and I already rambled on Sheezy, but that site isn't very populated yet and it's also very good at hiding journals so let's just ramble again...

The summary of this post if you hate reading: I'm heavily considering just stepping away from Splatoon. That decision obviously would affect this blog (mostly, my OCs, which is kinda most of the blog at this point). I don't think the blog itself will go anywhere, and I'll probably use it for something in the future... alternatively i'll cherry pick stuff from here into an archive for people who like the worldbuilding.

Longer post under cut:

So what have I been up to this year? The answer is quite simple: NOTHING. Like, actually absolutely nothing. Aside from Art Fight, this has probably been one of my worst art output years of all time, which is really frustrating. That's between my horrendous mental health and depression chasms this year and a complete lack of both focus and inspiration (which can also get chalked down to the depression to a degree, yeah). So the very real reason to why there hasn't been much activity on this blog this year is because I just haven't Done Anything in general.

Now because I know there will be a few people who think "that's fine! you shouldn't judge yourself based on productivity!" you're right! I also agree. However the issue for me specifically is that most (if not all) the time I spend NOT drawing or creating, I spend sitting around wishing I could start drawing or creating, because that is like the 1 thing that keeps me sane on this freaking earth. Unfortunately coming up with OC scenarios in my head doesn't really result in output I can feel fulfilled by in any form as much as I wish it did, lol.

Now; The Issue. It doesn't take a genius to see that if you spend 9 months trying to finish like a dozen OC pages that you COULD do in a week or 2 if you wanted to, then there's probably more than just the problem of executive dysfunction (even though that's at least 60% of it for sure). Obviously my other major problem is that I live by imaginary rules and structures that make sense, but aren't actually useful at ALL in reality and are more than a hindrance if anything (the mental to do-list in my head that says i can't do X until I've done Y doesn't do very much if task Y takes 10 months and I also don't want to do it, and it also has no structured ending).

How does this tie into stepping away from Splatoon, you may ask. Well, the issue is that I have foreseeably fallen out of love with the series. Which isn't exactly news lol. Currently, I'm not even sure i will get the next game, if and when the time comes. Yes, the loss of interest is also expected, given that Splatoon 3 has ended and every fandom has this kind of downtime and lukewarm in-between-titles period. But the truth is that modern Splatoon (almost 10 years old!!!!) is tangibly different from the way the series was back when I fell in love with it. That was Splatoon 1, and while the series has improved in a lot of aspects and is thriving, it's grown in a direction that I just don't really like. Splatoon 3 had the most freaking horrendous, immersion breaking story mode they could've done, then they followed it up with a DLC story that was pretty cool but also compounded a lot of my fears about the series' future and played into every single thing i do not want Splatoon stories to be - fully character focused, random fucking villain, mundane event that's unrealistically world-threatening just because a kids video game needs a scary climax even though it's immersion breaking AGAIN, the whole thing taking place in cyberspace and thus offering basically no worldbuilding even though there is SO MUCH WORLD. I COULD GO ON.

The gist of it is that nowadays, rather than playing Splatoon and being inspired and excited at what comes next, I mostly find myself dreading what dumbass plot they will do next to throw a wrench in the otherwise good stuff. And when that's like THE main approach I have to what's supposed to be my favorite series, it is HARROWING. I can't even really blame the game for this; the story is NOT its selling point, the developers probably do their best to get the bits to us that they really want to tell, and at the end of the day the game is unfortunately a product. Worldbuilding for Splatoon is fun to a point. It's less fun when in order to actually write or create something coherent, instead of filling in the blanks, the blanks are 90% of the freaking thing. At that point you're just better off making something of your own instead of being anchored onto an IP that gives more problems than answers and occasionally shoots you with like a machine gun. Working in the realm of Splatoon is frustrating because more often than not, the questions I have ARE NOT MINE TO ANSWER, and the likelihood that the specific-ass questions I need answers to will ever be actually addressed is really low.

Tying this back to my OCs. Obviously I love my OCs more than I love myself which admittedly isn't that high of a bar but you get the point. The problem is that I spend a lot of time mulling over worldbuilding that, again, frankly isn't mine to do. Because if I want it to be Splatoon, then it should be mostly accurate to how Splatoon is! But the problem with that is that there's really not THAT MUCH worldbuilding in the series that you can work with, and most of the core game mechanics are just abstract enough that it's actually horrendous to try and come up with workarounds and ways for things to make sense that don't require just constructing a full knockoff version mirror dimension of the game and saying fuck everything that's in place here because Inkopolis Plaza literally has no roads in or out of there and I have no fucking idea how that's allowed when your only option is to jump the fence (or, nowadays, take the train which also isnt connected to a street as far as I remember). Between the face value issue and the lack of REALLY IMPORTANT worldbuilding, like - I will always come back to this - THE INK TANK'S FUNCTION 10 YEARS DOWN THE LINE - there's a goddamn ocean of plot holes and things that end up being obstacles to creativity rather than inspiration. I feel like I'm pretty solidly at the point (and have been for a while) where hanging onto Splatoon is really only contributing to creativity block and frustration with lack of freedom and the ability to actually do things.

So I guess those are my reasonings that I've put together just sitting here for the time being. The TL;DR is that I wish I could just do stuff without Splatoon's canon getting in the way, which is a really stupid problem to have if you're making Splatoon OCs. I feel this frustration extremely strongly every time I have to work with actual bigger aspects of the world; we still don't have an Inkopolis map, we don't know what the world around Inkopolis looks like, we don't know what the wilderness is like aside from Just Normal Forest and Desert and very few snippets as to what modern wildlife MIGHT be, I still don't know how the fuck the Inklings teleport to the goddamn arctic ocean to play a turf war at Shipshape Cargo co. These are all actually really important things if you're trying to establish a setting in any kind of storytelling that's outside of immediate city bounds (and even there, you need to know the layout of the city and its important areas). Also a fucking mutant bear and a baby salmon and a squid not wearing suitable gear went to space and fought on a rocket in space. These are some things that would give me peace of mind to not have to deal with in my own writing, probably.

So where do we go from here? Unsure. I haven't really made a decision on this front yet, though right now I'm leaning more towards actually going ahead with trying to do my own thing. That will result in obvious design and setting changes for my OCs whenever I get around to it. This blog probably won't go anywhere (again, unless I impulse delete it during a mood swing like i've almost done on like three separate occasions this year), but it will probably get less use, and I will probably end up making a new blog to post about whatever I end up doing once I get to a point where it feels like it makes sense. There's a chance that I will delete this blog and put all the interesting stuff on an archive blog for the people who are here just for the worldbuilding. My actual true passion for a long time now hasn't even been Splatoon anymore, it's just been cephalopods. I'm kind of done having Splatoon get in the way of the cephalopods, as thankful as I am that it introduced me to them...

If you read this to the end heres a treat for you = 🍪

[oneluckydragon]

got hit with the echo+sora brainrot so i am once more rambling in your askbox about it. because reasons.

anywho i think there is something truly saddening about echo's struggles to make peace within herself and how she truly finds it hard to find that peace when she is so certain that if the truth about her origins were to be revealed to the world, much less to *sora*, everything she achieved, everything she worked for, all of which matters to her most, will crumble away in a moment's notice.

but the fear of losing all your life's work is none compared to the fear of losing sora. the feeling of poison that settled itself within themselves and between each other out of fear and tragedy of what had happened to them is familiar. echo's resemblance to dusknoir was already enough to set the two off because of how much it had all hurt to see someone you love and yourself turn into a mockery and a splitting image of someone who had pretended to care yet showed he never did at all, but this poison is louder. it hurts to bare, to carry, and to have none but yourself to be its sole holder.

but this poison, this feeling of heartache is different. because whereas the previous pain was something both of them felt, sora was lucky enough to not have known the truth about the person who she cares for so dearly.

echo knows that she used to be darkrai. and it haunts her to have known that her previous incarnation was so *cruel*, all for the sake of it just feeling right. wishing to engulf an entire world in darkness, solely for whatever desire she used to have.

and for how much she knows, how much she will hammer it into her own head that she is *not* like that anymore, that she looks at her past with sneer and disgust and that she will not be the barer of evil anymore, it will not matter in the slightest when she will have to look at sora if she were to ever find out.

how afraid, angry and dejected she would look when finding out, and how she will go on the defense/offense because of how much this will overwhelm her.

because when echo looks at her own shadow, she sees herself for what she is. she knows what she is, be it out of shame or guilt.

but when sora will look at it, she will see a tall, contorting and menacing shadow, towering over with a bright cyan eye doing nothing but looking at her, as if tempting her to make the next move.

and she defends herself. from someone she knows will not harm her. she raises her arms up in self defense from a hand that would never hurt her more than the world has already did.

she knows echo will not hurt her. and thats why she is afraid.

Oh my oh my OH MY, Sinnoh!!! YES YES YES!

HOW!!! IN THE WORLD!!! Are you so good at crawling into my head and creating these vivid analysis/snippets on my OCs??? I've barely shared ANY information about Echo and Sora because I've been wanting to hoard most of my stuff for when my fic is finally finished... but... I think you've broken my resolve a bit, if I'm entirely honest.

You know what? I'm so inspired by your accuracy and eagerness to talk about my girls that I'm gonna forgo my crippling anxiety regarding my writing skills and instead post a snippet of my WIP fic here as a treat for you. A teaser, if you will. Since I have no idea when the fic in question will actually be done and ready (or when I will be satisfied with it, cause the thing is currently 36,000 words and still slowly climbing). And now you've got me eager to share SOMETHING of my fic with you and anyone that might want to take a peek at it.

Please enjoy this conversation between Dusknoir and Echo. The topic deals a lot with what you'd described up above!! c:

[Note: this is an unedited part of my fic because I am still in the process of writing and it may change in the future, so please be gentle w/ me but I'd love to read any thoughts/comments that pop up while reading!! pls send asks or replies or anything really cause I love you guys]

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++

“I’m going to tell you something now, and you are going to listen.” Echo commands with a sharp bite in her voice that Dusknoir cannot fathom ignoring. He pauses and then offers a slow nod, waiting, wondering what she could possibly desire to tell him at a time like this, of all things.

Minutes pass as Echo remains rooted in place, still as her own shadow, and her eyes dart around as she stares at the patches of dry grass and sand beneath her paws. Her claws clench and unclench, digging into the earth like daggers as the wind of the forest (it’s trees so close, just behind them, a looming sort of presence that could engulf them whole) whistles through the surrounding branches, carrying stray leaves of many bright greens through the chilling breeze. Dusknoir watches them dance around Echo, twirling, floating down, down, down… but it’s quiet, too quiet, and Dusknoir feels a shiver pass through him when Echo’s voice finally rings out through the silence.

"When I evolved, Sora was petrified," She says, nearly a whisper, an admission that melts away her confidence and appears to bring her a flood of both shame and regret. Her face twists up then, strangely, like she’d felt a twinge of pain from somewhere deep inside the very fabric of her own soul and was unable to quell it. "She couldn’t even bring herself to look at me most days. At first, my appearance… well, it reminded her too much of you. And eventually of someone I used to be.”

Someone I used to be. At that, Dusknoir’s immediate reaction is to recall Echo’s previous life as a human, as the miserable shell of a creature surviving alongside Grovyle that he’d relentlessly hunted in the dark future. A human made of contempt and anger and apathy, who never smiled or laughed or cried or screamed like the old legends said humans would-- an entity that simply existed rather than lived. An echo of a life long dead and buried. But, judging by her tone, by her voice, by some uneasy intuition itching in the back of his mind like a swarm of pestilent Ninjask… he knows that she means something else entirely. Something that she isn’t willing to share. And frankly, that concept utterly terrifies him.

Someone I used to be. Dusknoir wants to speak, to break his own silence, wants to ask the myriad of questions bubbling up in his throat because this isn't the first time she's hinted at another life beyond being human, but those questions die at the source like a flame doused in water. And always the coward, coward, coward, instead he takes the easy way out by doing nothing at all. Whether Echo notices his surge of inner conflict or not-- the nervous wring of his hands and the tremble in his spine that he cannot control under her gaze-- she does not react.

“I’d take a step and Sora would flinch away.” Echo confesses, her markings flickering with light before going dark and dead, as if her body wished to snuff them out entirely, a deep seated rejection, a self-loathing so strong that Dusknoir cannot help but recognize it and empathize, and his heart aches, “It took ages for her to stop shaking when I’d speak. To stop looking at me like-- like I was going to…” 

Echo grimaces like she’s enduring waves of grueling torture and doesn’t finish that string of thought, but it’s not hard to make an educated guess on what went unsaid. Like I was going to betray her. Hurt her. Break her heart. She’s been through so much already and I couldn’t bear to be another influence in the history of her suffering. I hate myself because of how I made her feel. When her eyes went wide in fear and through them I could see myself staring back like some sort of burden, some sort of curse.

“I am not my past.” Proud and true, Echo straightens up and holds her head high, a spark igniting in her eyes, a glint of determination, a will to keep going and going despite such circumstances and strife, despite this horrid, unspeakable past that haunts her so, “And I am definitely not you. It’s taken a while, but I know that much now. I’ve accepted it.”

I am not my past. And I am definitely not you.

A sigh, a breath, and Echo glances at him with a certain sorrow that cannot be described, a sorrow that lingers even through the veil of her tenacity, "But no matter how I feel, no matter my conviction, my shadows still find ways through the cracks. Every time I think I'm getting a grip and that I might finally understand myself… I change all over again." She admits, sounding more angry and tired than defeated now-- like a mirror of her old self, her human self that had clawed and damned and cursed him, despised him more than anything. "I hate it. I hate that I never truly know who I am. That I have to learn about my past through stories others tell me, or through fragments of twisted, broken memories that I wouldn't wish on anyone. Through conflict and pain and… and..."

"Echo," Dusknoir murmurs her name softly, an offering, a potential escape if only she would wish to drop the subject and forget this conversation had ever happened-- if she'd overstepped and needed an excuse to back out, a diversion, an understanding. And briefly, Dusknoir wonders why she is opening up about this particular information, why she would delve into something so vulnerable, so personal. Why she would bring up this hurtful history when it obviously brings her great discomfort.

And then, he gets an answer.

“You’re lucky, Dusknoir." There it is, that wildfire burning in her eyes again. A spark that’s new and bold and startling. But lucky? No, never. He'd have to disagree, accounting the mountain of evidence that was his life and regrettable deeds.

"You already know exactly who you are and what you’ve done, and most importantly why. You have more than a tattered picture of yourself that reflects broken answers. And you can change with that knowledge. I see you trying.” She tells him, searching, looking for something so deeply and Dusknoir wishes he knew what it could be so that he could give it to her, because he would, he would gladly give it to her without a second thought if it meant they could be close again. But he isn’t a fool, and he’s wise enough to know they’ll never be like they were before. “And if somehow I could change, even as half-assed as I have. Well, then what’s your excuse?”

You can do it, say her unspoken words, I believe in you.

[batsplat]

i don’t know too much about motogp in depth enough to send specific asks but please know that i am ALWAYS seated for your class! i really enjoy reading your takes + essays

man this is so so kind, I am always a little lost for stuff to say when I just get like. people being lovely in my inbox - trust I do read and appreciate it, just get very hung up on the responding bit

anyway, this ask I think was sent the day after this long post about the similarities between casey and valentino was dropped, which has kinda been where this blog has been living for the past month,, so. in my head. I'm choosing to believe this was specifically about that essay. and I just wanted to quickly toss in one more thing - y'know the bit about sachsenring 2010, right, where valentino shows up way way ahead of schedule from the whole broken leg situation and also jorge and casey have kinda been engaging in a teensy bit of trash talk in his absence and the vibes are. off

so then casey and valentino had a very tight very cool battle for the last podium position, 10/10 would recommend, low key one of the top 3-4 races that season. valentino's fighting his demons (leg recently broken), casey's fighting his demons (bike sucks), you can tell how badly they want to beat each other... and casey manages to take the shine off valentino's return by snatching the final podium place in what you just like. know. was extremely satisfying to him. you just know it!! he won't say it because he's so hung up on the 'ooh I don't get obsessed with my rivals' shtick (lol) but it's very obvious how badly he wants to beat valentino! and then after the race when they're talking to the press, casey's like,, valentino's comeback is really not that serious, the leg's fine he's just lost a bit of muscle mass,, idk why everyone's making such a big deal,, and then valentino starts throwing jibes in his direction about how CASEY would have complained if VALENTINO had ridden like CASEY had, but of course VALENTINO would never do such a thing,,, and in the timeline of the rivalry this is very much when we start descending to kindergarten level

anyway given the tone of the on-track battle and how much shit they talk about each other in the immediate aftermath, you simply have to be deeply endeared by how they behave post-race when they're actually on the bike. classic hand grab and thumbs up situation, valentino recognising casey's performance in all its viciousness:

but then what really prompted this whole thing was. this photo..? where valentino has managed to straight up reach into casey's helmet:

like is he trying to poke casey's eyes out what's happening here. looks like he's doing finger guns in his face. why's he getting so close. isn't this a lovely quirky little photo... casey's doing an insincere thumbs up at him and valentino's attempting to stroke his cheek. fascinating. they're about to say some out of pocket shit about each other to the press btw

[skyward-floored]

What inspiration do you have for Lost? What does he look like? What was he like before everything went down?

- hero-of-the-wolf

Now that I have figured out :)

Inspiration-wise, I’m drawing a bit off of botw Link, tp Link, sksw Link, most of the older Links. Kind of Link’s dad in the four sword adventures manga too. Lost has that knightly loyal vibe, he’s very devoted, and strives to do his job well.

He also doesn’t know when to take a heckin’ break, like he’ll show up feverish and shaking and having thrown up no more than five minutes ago and be like “yea of course I’m in fighting condition. Why?” Zelda kicks him out and tells him to go home and sleep. Then drags him there when he won’t go.

Lost is pretty quiet and stoic, but not to the extent botw Link is. He does smile, and does talk, but rarely. That along with his sword skills makes him seem pretty intimidating for not even being in his twenties yet though, and he doesn’t have many friends, even among the other knights. He and Zelda click though, and they’ve been close friends for a few years now.

He also love horses so much, he’s a horse girl at heart. Epona is his baby and when he’s not doing knight stuff, he’s probably hanging out down in the stables, sneaking her apples. She’s the only one who truly always gets a smile out of him.

Aaaaand Lost is on the taller side for a Link— he and Zelda are actually the same height. Except when she wears heels, which she likes to do on purpose just to bother him <3 He’s also got pretty pale blond hair, though it’s a bit darker after Everything happens, and his eyes are light blue, sort of seafoam colored.

I think that’s it... well I’m also pretty sure I’ve posted art of him before, but I couldn’t find it immediately and didn’t feel like fighting with my tumblr app to look further XD So yeah. I think that’s all :)

[n7punk]

Pairings: Bow/Glimmer (Glimbow). Fandom: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018).

Rating: G. Chapters: 1/1 (One shot). Words: 2.1k.

Summary: Glimmer knows hormones take a long time to make changes, but she has never been a patient person. The initial serotonin boost from expanding her wardrobe is running out and she wants something new to make an impact. Luckily, Bow has an idea: a box of bleach. (Or, Bow helping Glimmer dye her hair in a modern AU. And they’re trans. That’s it. That’s the fic.)

Written for @glimbowweek Day 6: Milestones

[justaz]

im TIRED of reading fics with period typical homophobia 😭😭 i caint do it 😭😭😭 just let them be gay in peace 😭

[spacedkey]

the eternal struggle of reading webcomics/manga/manh(w/u)a that i think are really good but have cringe ass titles so i can't recommend them without someone doubting my sensibilities and taste in stories

[darkdragon768]

???

Some reddits that made me laugh

[kayzero]

ohhhh, i only ship them with the protagonist because i have an issue separating myself from the perspective character. i don’t like them together necessarily, i just like Her and i think i’m Them. i gotcha.

[bereft-of-frogs]

I think that 1) after nearly 9k words, this chapter is done, and 2) I have finally figured out all of the solutions to the three main mysteries and I am SO PLEASED WITH MYSELF ABOUT IT.

I’m going to get dinner and work on edits/formatting, then meet my brother and his gf for a drink, then should be ready to post tomorrow.

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

Just remembered I have a psychiatrist appointment so early tomorrow. And I obviously dyed my hair so recently because there's green staining on my face. I don't think it's going to look great for the bipolar diagnosis, to disclose that I was feeling impulsive and wanted to get control over something, so I dyed my hair at midnight.

[ninjaaa-go]

please, I’m begging you, just give me clear and thorough instructions. please

[wayfinderrinku]

No idea if I’m the only one who does this but if I can’t think of a title for a fic before posting I literally look the lyrics to songs I had been listening to while writing it and then use the lyrics as a title