#this is based on a conversation with a friend

[egophiliac]

I have never been more concerned for a JP update from your art than I am seeing a Cheka knowing the context of Leona’s dream.

My bois ok right?????? My sweet nephews ok right??????

well

uhhhh

I'm sure the real one is fine :)

[ziggy-scardust]

Leaning on commonly-understood social scripts is a very real way of resolving social anxiety and in some ways it’s a shame that those aren’t as widely understood as they used to be. For instance, if you arrived at a party, it was standard to introduce the new arrival to your other guests, often along with a conversation starter (“everyone, this is So-and-so, a friend from my knitting club who makes beautiful hats”) instead of leaving them to fend for themselves in a room where they might not know anyone.

There’s a small amount of baby that was thrown out with the bathwater of excessively gendered social scripts, and that’s pretty much it. You had a lot more certainty of how an interaction would happen and a lot of familiar scripts to lean on. I don’t think it’s bad to let go of very strict social expectations based on gender, and it’s certainly ridiculous that so many of these scripts relied on knowing someone’s gender, but there’s a lot to be said for knowing how to approach an interaction.

Okay but can anyone articulate the mindset that leads older people to feel like they NEED to know people's gender identity all the time? Like what's going on there

[christmassavestheyear]

hey besties! i talked about starting to do monthly recs, and i've decided to go through with that - in both the 911 and 1d fandoms! so here goes nothing, i guess... i based the formatting of these posts off of a few mutuals who do regular fic rec posts <3 much love to them. i read a lot of 911 fic this month! way more than i have in the past, so here goes nothing. this month we've got tevan, buddie, riaz, and a sprinkle of gen christopher!

🔥 Tricks and Treats (but mostly Treats) || @ninjatrashpanda evan buckley/tommy kinard || 3k While taking Jee-Yun trick or treating, Buck and Tommy are mistaken for being her parents. It causes them to have a conversation they’ve been putting off for a while.

🔥 Almost Cost It All || @sunnywithachanceofbi eddie diaz/josh russo || 3.7k Josh & Eddie run into one another a month after breaking up and hash it out. Jeddie Week Days 3/4: Double Dates & Missing You

🔥 Carry You Home (Alex Warren) || emaisnialleraf evan buckley/tommy kinard || 2.2k “Do you ever think about the future?”

🔥 through the good, the bad, and the gross || @wikiangela evan buckley/tommy kinard || 1.7k Tommy assures his boyfriend that he doesn't look gross, even with the boils on his face.

🔥 you still love me anyway || @epiphainie evan buckley/tommy kinard || 43.5k But that was just him. Evan. He was too much, too smart, too impulsive, too earnest, and he was prickly, petty, bratty, unruly, redefining the phrase of high maintenance. He was Tommy’s favorite person. aka five times buck was being too much and one time tommy told him so

🔥 Made From Scratch || @inawickedlittletown evan buckley/tommy kinard & jee-yun han || 4k As soon as Maddie was gone, Buck turned to Jee-Yun. “Ready for some fun with your uncle Buck?” “Yes!” she cried out, smiling big. Buck grinned. “I thought you could help me out with something really important.” “Really?” She asked, head tilting to the left. “What?” “Well, we’re going to make a birthday cake.”

🔥 with you, i am home || @rosetterer evan buckley/tommy kinard || 3.6k The injured shoulder causes some issues during the night. Tommy takes care of it.

🔥 amber glow || @userautumn evan buckley/tommy kinard || 5.8k "I think I fucked up." “What did you do?” “I think I remember how Tommy Kinard knows me.” or; Buck is a down-on-his-luck photographer, and Tommy is the industry It-boy that just wants to help him out.

🔥 friendly neighbourhood firefighter || @sunnywithachanceofbi evan buckley/tommy kinard || 3.6k Tommy's adventurous Halloween role-play goes hilariously wrong when he gets himself stuck in a Spider-Man costume, only to end up with an injury. What was meant to be a playful, sexy surprise for Evan turns into an emergency rescue situation, with the 118 on the scene.

🔥 Pumpkins Scream In The Dead Of Night || Must_Love_Dogs evan buckley/tommy kinard || 2.3k Since Bobby and Athena's house is unavailable, Tommy offers his house for a Halloween Party. With a lot of help from Buck, and a bit from Maddie, and Chimney, they plan and decorate his house to perfection.

🔥 i'm haunted (by billy boils) || buckleymoons evan buckley/tommy kinard || 935w Tommy and the 217 hear two calls from dispatch during their shift. For some reason, both of these calls relate to one Evan Buckley. or: the 217 teasing Tommy for dating an idiot that carries corpses around

🔥 on purpose, i am going to care about you || @stardustvx evan buckley/tommy kinard || 2.1k Buck has a horrible migraine and Tommy takes care of him. Perhaps they also say I love you to each other for the first time.

🔥 The Favorite (Derogatory) || xanthippe74 evan buckley/tommy kinard || 1.3k After golfing with Gerrard, Buck just wants comforting over a few drinks with his friends. But all he gets is a hard time.

🔥 Family Dinner || @sugdenlovesdingle evan buckley/tommy kinard & the 118 || 817w The first 118 family dinner at Bobby and Athena's new house

🔥 Lay Waste To Your Beliefs || thespeckledbandicoot evan buckley/tommy kinard & the 118 || 3.1k Buck gets cursed on the job. Luckily, Chimney knows a guy. For the Bucktommy Winter Fest Halloween prompt: Magical Realism

🔥 Save A Horse... || Must_Love_Dogs evan buckley/tommy kinard || 1.7k What if Tommy had helped Buck decide which costume to wear for the "Firehouse Haunt Fest"? A season 8, episode 5 missing scene because I would have loved to see Tommy's reaction to Buck's cowboy costume.

🔥 maybe together we can get somewhere || @the-amber-raven evan buckley/tommy kinard, tommy kinard & daniel buckley || 62k Tommy has always been able to see ghosts. Usually, they stick around for a few days or weeks, maybe several months before they get what they need to move on. There was one ghost, however, who appeared when Tommy was young and seemed to be unable to get the closure he needed to let go and so he just… never left. He got used to it, after a while, and Daniel became a consistent companion throughout his life. Or, the one where Tommy can see ghosts and is haunted by Daniel Buckley for reasons it takes him almost thirty years to understand.

🔥 Where All This Love Comes From || @carlos-in-glasses carlos reyes/tk strand || 107k A single tear slips from Carlos' eye. Years ago, there was a young man in New York City called TK Strand and he had no idea that in Austin, Texas, a stranger called Carlos Reyes was aching, yearning, pining for exactly him. He had no idea how loved he was going to be by someone he had yet to meet. He had no idea how wonderful he was as a person with or without a partner – but he was about to find out. That's why you have to keep living, Carlos thinks, so you can find out.

🔥 a moment of clarity || acollectionofdaydreams evan buckley/tommy kinard || 2.1k The morning after breaking up with Evan, Tommy opens his door to find an Eddie who has something to say about it.

🔥 go ahead, rip my heart out || @atimeofyourlife evan buckley & eddie diaz, evan buckley/tommy kinard || 2.6k After 8x06, Buck crashes on Eddie's couch for the night. Eddie finds him the next morning presenting with cardiac symptoms on his couch.

🔥 Pause || iwroteafictoday evan buckley/tommy kinard || 3.2k Sometimes you just need to put a conversation on pause and talk it out with a friend. Post 8x06 fix it fic

🔥 If You Really Love Someone You Don't Let Them Go || @black-and-whitecrow evan buckley/tommy kinard & eddie diaz || 4.3k There are things worth fighting for. Like love. There are people worth fighting for. Like Evan Buckley. There are idiots needing some sense talked into them. Like Tommy Kinard. Luckily, there are also good friends who can make idiots see what's worth fighting for. Like Eddie Diaz.

🔥 i choose us every time || @spacewinter evan buckley/tommy kinard || 3k Of course, Buck is angry. He got his heart shattered by a man who thought he could tell Buck what he should feel. He's hurt, he's angry, and he's not ready to let it go. Hen's words resonate - he should fight for this relationship if he wants a future with Tommy, so that's exactly what he does. He drives over full of righteous anger and hurt, only to be faced with a ruined, heartbroken man that he still loves They talk instead, they hug. Apologies are made, anger is expressed. They make a decision to build something stronger together.

🔥 Closet Conversations || @eyesonstars-feetonground evan buckley/tommy kinard || 10.6k Six months is a long time to stick around if he thought you’d dump him. OR After his boyfriend dumps him, Evan Buckley goes on a date, makes a new friend, has some conversations, and realizes he's queer. Tommy haunts him every step of the way.

🔥 Hold Your Tongue || @guardiandelacour evan buckley/tommy kinard || 4.5k The Buckley parents decide to pay a visit to their reluctant children, and Tommy is finally forced to meet the people who made his boyfriend believe that he is worthless.

🔥 A House is Built with Walls and Beams || fairytalegonewrong evan buckley/tommy kinard || 2.1k Tommy is ready to take the next step in his relationship with Evan as they celebrate their anniversary. After much thought, he plans to ask Evan to move in with him, marking a significant moment in their relationship.

🔥 excellent chemistry || @judymarch15 sal deluca/eddie diaz || 3k Sal wants to be a fire captain someday, but to do that he'll need to go back to school and earn an associates degree in fire science. Eddie shows his support.

🔥 Just Let Me Adore You || @inawickedlittletown evan buckley/tommy kinard || 35.7k What if...instead of Chimney taking the role of interim Captain of the 118, Tommy is asked to take on the role. Or, what happens when Buck meets Tommy in S2

🔥 I'd Love To Hear 'Bout How You Been || Snaptic evan buckley/eddie diaz || 10.5k Did you say Evan Buckley?” Eddie has to confirm because there’s no way he heard that correctly. “Yes, sir…” The lady says, continuing on, but Eddie hears none of it, his brain still stuck on the name. Evan Buckley. He hasn’t heard that name in years. His thoughts become a grainy slideshow of memories, fragmented from the years; a wicked smile on a dirty face, broad shoulders covered in camo, curly hair blowing in the breeze, piercing blue eyes gleaming in the sunshine. Or: two old friends from the desert reunite in an LA hospital room

🔥 time is shortening (down to the bone) || @calinaannehart evan buckley/tommy kinard || 8.3k (WIP) “Hey, excuse me,” Buck says to the nurse behind the desk. “I’m not sure who I’m-" The words die in his throat as his eyes land on a familiar form in a large wingback chair, the leg rest raised so he’s reclined with his head tipped back and eyes closed. He’s thinner than he was when Buck last saw him, deep shadows sit under his eyes and his hair, patchy in places, has been shaved short. There’s a port-a-cath in his upper arm and hanging on the drip stand above is a bag of fluid, the bright red chemotherapy label visible even at this distance. “Sir?” The nurse says, but Buck can’t look away from the man. “Tommy.”

🔥 It's Freakin' Bats! || writerdot evan buckley/tommy kinard || 3.8k He startles awake with a gasp, sitting straight in bed. He’s scared and he doesn’t know why so he closes his eyes, breathes deep, and feels himself start to relax. Once the feeling fades, he looks at the time, and sees it’s just after 2AM. Grabbing his phone, he opens his text thread with Tommy and sends a heart. Or: it's Buck and Tommy's first Halloween together and Buck's not quite feeling himself.

🔥 Where It Wasn't Supposed To Be || @princessfbi evan buckley/tommy kinard || 45.7k They’d kept it under wraps to an almost paranoid degree. They didn’t touch in public, not even on their hikes up the countless trails that were never short of people minding their own business as they took in the good weather. They sat on opposite sides of the table at dinner. Evan came over to his place instead of taking the risk with his roommates. Evan had even come up with a cover story if they ever ran into anyone: he was picking Tommy’s brain about the job. Nothing more. Nothing less. What if Buck and Tommy met the three months before Tommy transferred to Harbor and Buck started at the 118?

🔥 The Last Drop Spilled Over || @lucid-ao3 evan buckley/eddie diaz || 28k Eddie is having conflicting feelings now that Buck is in a relationship with Tommy. Why does it feel like time is running out? And why does Drunk Eddie keep giving him so much trouble?

🔥 Habitual Damage || @eggmacguffin evan buckley/eddie diaz || 9.1k About a week after starting back at the 118, and about three weeks before he was supposed to start getting a steady check again, Buck quietly moved out of his loft— —and into his jeep.

🔥 Led Me Here To You || @andthenshesaid-write carlos reyes/tk strand || 28k TK knows his life is going to change when Gwyn and Enzo die, leaving him with custody of his six-year-old brother Jonah, but he isn’t prepared for the rigours of parenting, the questions it raises in himself, or for Jonah’s new teacher, Carlos Reyes.

🔥 old flames, new fires || @jamesandanthony evan buckley/tommy kinard || 3.1k The picture round arrives with the interval, and they're hunched around the sheet, arguing over a country outline that has them a little stumped when a figure approaches their table hesitantly. "Tom?" he says, and Tommy looks up in surprise. "Oh my god, Mateo?" he says, eyes wide as he stands to greet him. "Yeah," Mateo replies, grinning, and Tommy doesn't miss the way he looks him up and down appreciatively. "Man, how long has it been?"

🔥 The feeling came late (I'm still glad I met you) || paleredheadinascifi evan buckley/eddie diaz || 4.6k Come on, Buck. Let it out. I hate this, too. I hate leaving you. Tell me how much you hate it. Yell at me, Buck. Come on, yell at me,” he begs. Buck snaps. He pushes off the couch and crowds into Eddie’s space. “Is this what you wanted?” He spits, pushing hard enough against Eddie’s chest that he takes a step backwards. “Hmm? You want me to lose it on you?” Or, Eddie cannot handle Buck pretending to be fine about his move to Texas. He, in fact, refuses to let him.

🔥 got nothing on my mind (but the two of us) || @tommybuckleys evan buckley/tommy kinard || 5.1k “You’re covered in flour. Why are you covered in flour?” Buck sighs, letting his eyes follow Tommy’s path down his form — and wow, yeah, okay, it’s somehow even worse than the small glimpse he caught earlier. The apron he threw on has protected most of his clothes, but he can already see the flakes getting matted in the hair on his arms. Buck can only imagine the state of his face and hair. Maybe he should have prioritized that shower, after all. “I had a, uh — baking mishap,” Buck admits, still wrong-footed from Tommy’s sudden appearance. “I didn’t know you baked.”

🔥 our love is spook-tacular || @aesthetictarlos evan buckley/tommy kinard & mara & jee-yun || 2.1k "Uh, I made a list.” That's when Tommy notices his dangerous smirk and the clipboard on the table, together with a notebook and a few pens. This screams trouble, so much trouble. “A list about what?” He asks curiously, bracing for the practically endless range of possibilities. “Halloween couples costumes we could wear,” Buck says enthusiastically. Or, the one where Buck and Tommy go trick or treating with Mara and Jee.

🔥 Half Agony, Half Hope || @livinginsunnyhell evan buckley/eddie diaz || 52.6k He should’ve known this was going to be a moment when Christopher says, “Then why don’t you date? If dad’s gay… Why don’t you get together?” Buck does choke on his water this time. Sputters droplets all over the table and coughs loud enough to draw the attention of everyone around them. “Why – why do you ask that?” Buck wheezes and coughs again. Or Buck goes through the five stages of grief when Eddie comes out and considers dating men.

🔥 Your Name, Forever The Name On My Lips || @911varietyposts evan buckley/tommy kinard || 2.6k He was a widow at the age of 35. His husband had been ripped from his life in a cruel joke. OR: Evan adjusts to life without Tommy after a helicopter crash takes his life.

🔥 It's only after we've lost everything that we're free to do anything || @xjustlikeyou evan buckley/eddie diaz || 148k Chris leaves for Texas. Eddie tries to cope. Eddie fails. aka the Fight Club 2.0 fic

🔥 this love was once mine (please god, let it be us again || @xtarmanderx evan buckley/tommy kinard || 11.5k Buck's blue soulmark on his wrist is the thing that keeps him going after his breakup with Tommy. Somewhere out there, he may still have a soulmate who loves him. He holds onto that until the day his world is turned upside down and his mark turns black while he watches Tommy collapse to the ground.

🔥 Let the walls break down || @harmonic-intervention evan buckley/tommy kinard || 15.6k A whole month. That was how long Tommy could push his luck. bucktommy fix it, near-death experiences will force them to talk if nothing else will

🔥 never last (last) || Philipa_Moss (bsky) christopher diaz-centric || 15.2k Carla turned off the car and turned to him. “It’s just you and me,” she said. “What happened, baby?” Everyone said he’d been such a sweet kid. Every time he opened his mouth, he could hear himself pushing that kid farther away. “Nothing,” said Chris.

🔥 Darling, I Wanna Love You! || @rosyhoneydew evan buckley/tommy kinard || 2.4k “It’s no trouble at all,” Maddie jumps in. “Come on in, Tommy! You can just leave your shoes by the door there.” Buck turns his head slowly to give his sister a look that hopefully conveys the gravity of her duplicity, but she merely widens her eyes and tilts her head toward him in a motion that says get over it! He’ll do no such thing.

🔥 Bad Beer and Naked Rodents || @dashing-disaster evan buckley/tommy kinard || 1.6k "My point is, you got scared of commitment for three seconds and tell Evan Buckley, Evan Buckley, to go off to frolic on Grindr? I’m sorry, but do you know how stupid that is? Do you have any idea what happens to guys like Evan Buckley on Grindr?” Or: after the break-up Tommy's friends are there for moral support and a much-needed reality check.

🔥 The Weight Of The Past || @acrownofstardustandbone evan buckley/tommy kinard || 1.6k Sometimes the weight of the past is just too much to carry alone--and now, Tommy has Evan to help him shoulder this burden.

🔥 I Don't Want To Be Like This || Snaptic evan buckley/tommy kinard || 2.6k “Tommy?” Evan asks him gently, evidently noticing something is wrong. Tommy sighs, wondering if he’s really about to do this. If he’s really going to sit there and give Evan the ammunition to walk away from one of the best things that’s ever happened to Tommy. OR: Buck finds acceptance in his partner. Tommy shares his own secrets.

STATS: # of fics: 49 # of authors: 45 # of words read: 1,170,000~

[the-goddess-of-gays]

Percy: How do you pronounce 'c-o-u-p'? Is it like 'coop'? Annabeth: No, it's 'koo', like Ku Klux- Annabeth: Annabeth: Annabeth: Well, fuck me gently with a chainsaw. Percy: ...okay?

[cs-fox]

might just have to steal this idea 👀👀

TAPPED - GHOST RILEY X FEM!READER

angst/fluff

enjoy x

______________________________________________________________

It seemed like everybody on base was excited for their thirty-six hours. They had family, friends, partners - people who cared about them - coming to the airport to tap them out.

Luckily enough for you... you didn't.

It was all you could do, to put on a painful smile as you let your mates talk about their beautiful wives or boyfriends back home, and try not to cry when you reminded yourself nobody was coming to get you.

The next morning, you were one of a crowd, loading duffel bags and gear into the Boeing aircraft which was taking you to Manchester Airport.

Chatter crowded your ears, shoving for attention and muddling up your focus. You were already disorientated, so when you finally boarded, you were glad your seat was next to your lieutenant, Ghost. He was the silent type, so you didn't have to waste any energy on conversation.

An hour had never felt so long, but eventually, you landed. You even managed to hide your shaking hands from Ghost - something which you considered a personal acheivement.

One by one, you and your teammates fell into line, making a single-file stretch almost twenty metres across the tarmac.

Families came up in small groups, tapping out their soldiers. You watched as they recreated the soppy scenes you'd had pop up on your TikTok feed, of soldiers hugging their partners as they were releived.

You were stiff, a hot, uncomfortable lump forming in your throat as eventually, you were the last soldier left in the line, as the sun was washing the horizon blood-red.

A single tear traced down your cheek.

Nobody was coming to get you.

Just as you were contemplating simply collapsing on the tarmac, you heard footsteps behind you, and a hand fell on your shoulder.

'You're relieved, Private - '

Ghost had barely opened his mouth before your arms became constrictingly tight around his midsection, almost falling onto him in a hug.

'Soldier, you're...'

Your Lieutenant didn't have the heart to tell you that you were out of line.

______________________________________________________________

Just something running through my head rn.

So like, imagine you joined the military and your parents disapprove, or you’ve just never had a good relationship with them.

At the end of basic training, y’know those sweet TikTok videos that show brothers, sisters, boyfriends, girlfriends, etc tapping out the soldier? Well, when the time came, you were the last one standing.

You were trying not to cry, as that would be unprofessional as hell. You just waited around for your CO to dismiss you (let’s just say the CO is Ghost or Price. You’ve met the 141)

ANY ONE OF THEM WOULD SEE YOU AND WALK UP TO TAP YOU OUT AND YOU’D BE CRYING AS YOU HUG THEM-

(Pls someone write this 😭🙏)

[t-a-a-1]

Dandelion

One-Shot 3K-Words

Summary: After confessing your love to Optimus and being rejected; he discovers how much you mean to him.

A/N: Lots of yearning. A little bit of jealousy. Somewhat suggestive content. Angst. Optimus desperately needs you and he is a bit horny on this so beware.

Dandelion

....

It has been three months since you confessed your love to the leader of the Autobots.

And three months since he rejected you. 

You knew it was going to be this way. You weren't angry even when deep down, you hoped he would feel the same.

Maybe it's the human nature to love the unloveable. But when you think about it, there wasn't a single thing you did not love about him.

"I am honored but-"

You raised your hands to stop him. No. You didn't want the "It's not you, it's me" talk. You didn't want it, nor needed it. To you, it's stupid because although he may say that, you know the truth. If you were someone else, maybe a Cybertronian, he could love you. 

You didn't want answers. You didn't want to hear him. He had rejected you and that's the end of it. You just wanted to be honest.

That's it.

You began to be more distant. You weren't angry. Things just feel awkward. It's not like you didn't want to continue being friends but that was not possible at the moment. Is it really a friendship if deep down you still hope that he will change his mind? Optimus didn't deserve that nor did you.

You stopped going to the base so often. One or twice a week at most. You continued talking to everyone as you usually do but with Optimus it's different. Now you only greet him not wanting to start a conversation. He doesn't seem to mind your change and although it hurt you to see his indifference, you knew it was for the best.

But ... he noticed.

....

"I'll be going on patrol duty."

Optimus looks around the base as he announces his departure. Bulkhead is with Miko practicing some boxing, Arcee andis chatting with Jack while Bumblebee and Raf play video games. 

His optics fall on you. You were talking to Ratchet about something he couldn't decipher. Although his old friend was focused on his work, he still talked to you. You seemed content and wondered the reason behind your good mood. 

"(Y/N)," Optimus walks towards you and Ratchet, interrupting the conversation.

You stand on the elevation floor. Facing him face to faceplate. You were so small, yet he felt intimidated by you. 

"I'll be going on patrol," he repeats himself. Optimus doesn't know why but it has become complicated to talk to you.

"Yes umm, you already said that?"

You used to go on patrol duty with him. Usually, the nights will end with the two of you on the top of the base. With you smoking a cigarette and drinking a beer. Optimus would sometimes enjoy a barrel of oil with you. 

The two of you would talk for hours, sometimes it would last until the sunrise. 

"Do you wish to accompany me?"

That's what he wanted to ask. But nothing came out of his voice box. He stays quiet for a few seconds and leaves. 

....

Ratchet hears a heavy sigh coming from Optimu's vents.

A few seconds.

And another one.

And another.

And another.

And one more.

"Would you stop doing that?"

Ratchet looks at the Autobots' leader and Optimus has the audacity to look confused. This angered the doctor who was very well aware of the situation.

"If you miss (Y/N) so much why don't you talk to her?"

"I don't understand-"

"Ah! Tsk,Tsk," Ratchet raised both of his hands and moved them in front of him. He didn't want to hear any excuses coming from Optimus. "You know exactly what I am saying."

Optimus looks around to make sure no one is around. 

"(y/n) confessed... to have romantic feelings towards me."

For a very small second, Optimus regrets telling Ratchet the truth because the expression on his face isn't comforting.

"A human ... falling in love with a Cybertronian?" Ratchet questions, speaking to himself more than to Optimus. "Well, historically speaking, Cybertronians are not unfamiliar with inter-species relationships. But with a human ... this will be a first."

"I rejected her," Optimus says not feeling quite certain if he should have shared this with Ratchet. Not because he didn't trust him to keep a secret but because you trusted him not to tell anyone. "But now I am afraid that has severed the friendship we had."

"Have you tried talking to her?"

"I do not believe she wishes to speak to me."

Ratchet noticed the worriness in Optimus' faceplate. He knew things had been different between the two of you since months ago. At first, he thought it had been a fight. Something that could be fixed with a simple conversation. But it was more than that. Maybe it cannot be fixed.

"And you Optimus?" the doctor asked. "How do you feel?"

Optimus takes a few seconds to think. He breaks eye contact with Ratchet and looks at the ground. Optimus looks at his right servo, it's been a while since he has held your soft body. 

"I am ... quite saddened by her distance. I may not share the same feelings but I care for her deeply. More than I am willing to admit."

"And did you tell her this?"

"She wished for me to not speak of the matter again and I obliged," Optimus vents heavily again. "I did not want to give her any more pain."

"Processing pain is necessary to heal," Ratchet puts his left servo on Optimu's shoulder plate. "And you, old friend, you might have to learn that your friendship with her might not be the same ever again."

....

"Reporting to you live, (y/n), Jasper News."

He sees you more on TV now than in person. He has always been a fan of your work and how you are so passionate about telling the truth. 

Optimus turns off the TV from his private quarters and heads to the hangar. He finds you there. Not sparing him a glance but his optics were glued to you.

You wore a white long-sleeved button-up shirt with a black skirt that highlights your figure. Your hair was kept in place with a hair clip and you wore glasses. Black heels with pink cheeks and red lips. You had come out of work and came straight here. 

"Oh, Prime. Were you going on patrol duty?"

Were you actually talking to him? Why couldn't he talk? You were smiling at him and yet he couldn't say a word. His voice box may not be working because no matter how much he tries nothing would come out.

He nods.

"Can I come with you? It's been a while since we have ridden together."

Four months and 15 days to be exact. 

He couldn't say a word. And only nods again.

....

To say that he was nervous was an understatement. He could feel and see everything. 

Especially, the skin of your legs on his seat. Optimus was too distracted. So much so that he didn't notice the bump of the road. Casually, you were drinking water and as you were about to take a sip, the water came out from the bottle due to the commotion. Your white shirt became wet, making your black brassier visible to his eyes. 

"Shit. Prime, can you make your widows dark?"

You ask him, feeling uncomfortable at the wet fabric against your skin.

"Of course," Optimus didn't question why he just followed your orders. He darkened all of his windows even the front one. 

He didn't expect you to start undressing. Slowly unbuttoning your long-sleeved shirt. Revealing to him your black lace bra. Optimus honks out of nowhere, steam coming out of his pipe. 

"Are you alright?" You ask him as you put your shirt on top of his air ventilations, hoping your shirt could drive quickly so you could put it back on.

"My apologies, I just-" he is again without words and he made a mental note to tell Ratchet to check up on him "I ... Please can you put your shirt back on? I do not wish to disrespect you."

"What do you mean?" you ask him innocently. Until a stupid idea crossed your mind. "Wait, I thought human attraction was impossible for Cybertronians?"

Optimus keeps quiet and keeps driving.

"Prime ... Do you find me ... attractive?"

He can't answer. If he says yes, what would that imply? If he says no, would that hurt your feelings even more? More importantly, he doesn't know. The only thing he is aware of is that his spark is agitated. He vents air hotter than usual. He is driving faster, and his processor is unable to understand the speed limits.

"What am I saying? Of course, you don't."

Optimus couldn't understand how you could say that when his enstril could sense your perfume. Something new he had never smelled before. Exquisite, delicate and sweet. It's you, your natural smell. The type he can't get tired of.

No. He can't think like that. It's not possible. Something in his system must be wrong.

"I met someone at work."

He didn't like the sound of that.

"I didn't want to say anything until things were steady but I think they are now."

Optimus slows down. He hasn't talked to you for so long and expected this night to be one of those he used to enjoy. The nights in which you would talk about the stars and he would do nothing but listen. The nights in which you would talk about a book and he would ask you about your favorite character. 

The nights in which he could watch the whole universe in your eyes.

....

"The scans are all good, Optimus," Ratchet says. "No anomalies were found."

"Are you sure of these results?"

"Confident."

Ratchet studies his friend's faceplate. He is usually the quiet type. Much had changed about him through the years. But nothing can go unnoticed by him. He knew Orion Pax and most certainly, he knew Optimus Prime. 

"But if you tell me your concern, then maybe I can run a specific analysis."

"It's my spark."

"What?" 

Ratchet was perplexed, he was not expecting that.

"It's in pain," Optimus stands from the gigant medical bed and sits on it. "And my processor only recreates memories of (y/n)."

One second passes.

Then another.

And another.

And one more.

"I do not like to question the ability of your processor," Ratchet doesn't move, he only procures to look at his friend in the optics. "But have you thought that maybe your processor is thinking of (y/n) because she has sparked your software of ... attachment?"

Optimus doesn't say a word and this only confirms Ratchet's suspicions. He has noticed how Optimus has been more distracted. His optics ever so lightly brightened up whenever he heard your name. The longing in every heavy vent his friend would so as the minutes passed without talking to you.

"How do humans ... Show affection?"

Ratchet doesn't need answers. He already knows and he doesn't want to make Optimus feel bad for having emotions. He's actually glad to know that his friend is capable of feeling something at all. Even after everything he is been through.

"From what I've read, giving flowers is a common practice."

"Do you think if I give (y/n) flowers will my feelings be clear?"

Yet, he wonders if it's the right thing. Is this desperation for connection or does Optimus' spark really glow for you? Either or, he wasn't one to make a conclusion.

"I am not certain but I think it's a start."

....

Took longer this time for patrol duty. Making sure he looked everywhere. But being in Nevada's desert didn't help much. There were cacti and grass but nothing that he particularly liked for you.

Until he found something you might like. 

It was delicate, more so than you. It took him an extra hour to get back to base because he was driving slowly. He didn't want to cause the flower any harm, it had to be in perfect condition for it to be worthy of you.

When he finally reached the base, he even took look longer to transform back to his original size. Making sure that his mass-shift didn't disturb the flower. 

He walked to the hanger, with a single dandelion in right servo. It's so minuscule and nervousness starts to kick in his system.

Out of the many kinds of flowers there are on your planet, will you like this one? If you did, would you be kind enough to spare him a smile? Anything that could alleviate his suffering just a little?

He can't deny it. Not anymore. Your absence has devastated him. In ways he can't describe. There may be millions of languages on your planet but not a single one could ever describe the feeling of yearning he has. How can he explain something he has no words for? How can he explain that his spark cries your name and his body begs for your affection? How much he craves for your attention or to at least be worthy of it. May Primus forgive him but would he would throw away his honor if that meant you could take him as yours.

Will this single dandelion be enough to express that?

Optimus is delighted to see you here. His thoughts had gone insane thinking that you were waiting for him. 

Instead, he sees you on the elevation floor, arranging many flowers into a small little white base. There are many of them. Of all kinds of colors and shapes. Then he thought how stupid it was for him to think he was worth even a simple look from you. 

"Hey big guy, guess who got flowers today?" you were content. Looking so happy that his circuits might corrupt. He wanted to be that to you. He wants to be a reason for you to smile. Just him. "I thought I should come and put them in a place where everyone can appreciate them."

And suddenly he gets this strange urge. A dark thought of destroying that which you love, those flowers and especially whoever gave them to you. Because why? Why is it that those flowers can give much more happiness than him? What do they mean to you? Does the person who gave them to you love you more than him?

"Well, what do you think?"

He looks at the flowers once more. His dark thoughts quickly go away. 

He is reminded of the dandelion on his servo. 

You deserved more than this. 

"They are ... adequate."

.....

He doesn't know how long he has been staring at the dandelion. He has grown a hatred towards it. 

Optimus wants to let it go. For the wind to take it and for him to forget about it. Yet, he can't find the energy to do so.

"I am in love with you."

He re-played that scene again and again. Deep down a part of him wished he could go back in time and fix it. If he wassincere with his feelings from the beginning, would things be different?

Will you be with be now? You probably would. You will be here, on top of the base and on this cold night, he will carry you close to his chassis. Close enough for you to feel the warmth of his spark. The heat intensifies as it only does when he is near you. 

You would tell him stories and he would listen. Looking at you from time to time because the stars above him did not compare to the beauty of the creature he was holding. 

"Prime?"

He stops daydreaming and finds you next to him. You take a seat, close to him. The vastness of the Nevada desert and the night sky were your view. 

"Are you alright?"

"I am."

He lied but it's not like he can say the truth. He can't tell you that his spark glows in pain for the so much yearning he has for you.

"I am sorry," you look into the distance, a part of you is ashamed and even afraid to look at him "I know I have been a little distant."

"I believe the word 'little' would be an understatement," his voice comes out as aggressive but the last thing he wants is to intimidate you. "But I cannot phantom myself putting any type of blame on you."

"I should have never confessed."

"No," his voice is softer now and he takes the time to look at you. Suppressing his need to hold you closer, he holds onto the dandelion instead, trying to get the courage he needs to give it to you. "I admire your honesty."

"Looking back at it, I am glad you rejected me," you put a string of your hair back on your ear. He knew this action of yours. You did that whenever you got shy and he wondered if he ever made you feel that way. 

"If you didn't I would have never met Alex and I wouldn't have been this happier."

Could you please end his misery? Could Primus be merciful and take his spark right at this moment? Because he can't do it. He can't. Not when he was asked you so many times to call him by his first name just for you to reject him.

Now, you found someone. Someone unknown to him with who you made a connection. A connection so strong that you deemed him honorable to be called by his first name by you.

"Is he ... Worthy of your affection?"

"Yes, I believe so."

But then again. He had his chance. He lost you and your friendship. Optimus knows that after tonight things will be different. As much as he wanted you, he knew you weren't his. Now, he feels stupid and ashamed for ever thinking the universe would be so kind as to gift you to him. 

"(Y/N)?" he calls your name so softly as if his voice box had glitched just for a small second. But you noticed. "Would you allow me to indulge myself in your company? Just this one time?"

There was nothing to say. You just nod. Blissfully unaware of the Optimus' sentiments. 

Unknown to you the dandelion, is still in his servo. 

.

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A/n: The romance was extremely rushed because this is a draft of what's to come in my fanfic 'The Darkest Hour' Of course the story above was a very cramped version of it and everything will happen way more smoothly. I think this story was just points and ideas I want to implement later down the line but I am still not certain in what way I want to take the romance. So I made this to help out and decide what route to take. 

Not this one I think.

Anyway, I am sorry for any mistakes I made. I don't proofread. 

For any questions, comments, concerns, or requests, you may send me a message/ask on this account.

Thank you for reading!

[the-100-days-of-junkan]

Day 60

Wow we really made it 60 days huh?

Okay so i’m not gonna yap long for this part. You saw the image, you see the read under. This is a small comic adaptation of @vanadisvalentine’s “Everything You’ve Ever Dreamed” fanfic. And it adapts the end of Chapter 4 which is pretty fuckin pivotal in that story. So if you haven’t read that fic yet I’m actually begging you, please read it and don’t let this comic be your first experience.

Second warning, this is going to be a long one. How long? Who knows. I haven’t written it yet, but this Day represents one of the biggest turning points in the whole project for me. 

When you click the read under you’re gonna get just the comic, and then you're gonna get hit with a gigantic fucking wall of text. I apologize in advance for the amount of rambling I’m about to do but I got a lot to say here.

Okay so you read the comic, you ready? Cause not only am I gonna yap about making that comic along with all the behind the scenes stuff, (amidst other tangents), but I’m also going to talk about the fic this is based on. This is probably going to feel a bit disorganized but i’ll try my best to keep this legible. Apologies in advance.

So your first thought is probably “Jem why the fuck did you do that?” and you’re correct for thinking that way. Rest assured, you’re going to ask that question again later but significantly louder and more exasperated in the future. 

Answer is simple though. I wanted to do something big for Number 60, cause every 10 images I wanna do something Big. For Number 50 I came out of retirement and wrote a fanfic and some art to go with it. So I wanted to go up. How do i go up? Well I am a comic artist, and making a webcomic is my general goal in life and what directs me forward. Sooo, why not a comic?

Okay but a comic of what? Well, why not a fanfic? And at the time the real answer was obvious.

There are Three Fanfics made for Junkan that are pivotal to this entire event. Without all three of them combined ya’ll would not be having Junkan art pop up in your feed every day, questioning what the hell is in my bloodstream to make me draw all this. The answer is Junkan, junkan is in my bloodstream.

I plan to talk about all three of those fics in this event, in as much detail as I can muster. That said not only are we going in reverse order, as todays fic “Everything You’ve Ever Dreamed” is the last piece of the puzzle for why I went off the deep end and drew this much Junkan. But also the other two fics aren’t gonna be discussed for a long time due to their placement in the event order. I’m talking within the last ten days. Oops.

But at the time it was, pretty fucking easy to choose this one to adapt. The other two either wouldn’t really fit my style that I had been working with up to that point, or were just not made to be a comic without way more energy.

And as a reminder this was before I had actually gotten to know some of ya’ll. Within the realm of Junkan Val was the only friend I had. I did have other people who liked DR and were on board with Junkan after I showed them my supply and stated my case, but Val was the only person I knew at the time who was as brainrotted for this ship as I am, granted I think she has like, a normal amount of brainrot. I think by the end of the project I’ve fully snapped and now I can’t stop thinking about these two, like I have actually tried to stop thinking about them but they keep popping up. What was I talking about- Right! Point is, you can consider Day 60, or as I would call it in casual conversation “The 22 Page Junkan Comic,” my most excessive thankyou to her for helping me stay motivated throughout the project and playing a massive part in its inspiration.

As for making the comic.

It was a very bold mix of “I’m having the time of my life” and “Hell,” that's the shortest way I could put it. The longest way? Wellll

So by this point I wasn’t just showing these pics to Val alone. I had a few friends even before Val who I showed the art too. I’d get compliments and feedback and all that nice stuff that keeps me going.

As I’ve stated in the past (i think) one of the hardest parts of this project for me was the lack of validation for my efforts. I do not make art purely to be complimented, I make art in order to hopefully bring a smile to someones face. However I do still take a lot of joy when I see my art being positively received, it shows that my efforts were worth it. Seeing peoples reactions helps me remember why I’m doing this and that I’m doing a good job at it. So if I  don’t get a lot of that, especially on something i put a lot of effort into, it can be a little demoralizing. It’s something I’ve tried to work past during this year, but at the time it was a big issue. Day 60 took around 2 weeks to finish, as I was managing other projects and commission work at the time. The whole time I barely showed anyone, Val was obvious because this was a surprise gift for her, however the rest is because I was very adamant about not spoiling the Fic it was based on, and say for a single person amidst the people I would show these pics to none of them had read the fic. So I went from showing a small handful of people these to showing one guy (admittedly one of my best friends) for the span of 2 weeks while grinding away at the comic. It wasn’t until the very tail end that my girlfriend surprised me by reading the fic, meaning I could show her as well finally. 

Was it worth starving myself of a majority of positive feedback for 2 weeks when I haven’t had to do something like that for years? Oh god yes but we’re not there yet I still need to talk about the actual comic.

So when you compare the fic to the comic you’ll notice I skipped a decent portion of this scene, this is mostly just for the sake of not making this take too long, I think I picked a pretty solid starting point but also I won’t lie and say there isn’t a part of me that wishes I took like an extra week or two to adapt the whole scene sometimes. Sometimes.

Mukuro acted as the pseudo cover for the comic, both because it was a small detail noted in the scene that she was watching the door, and because I could call back to the “Mukuro Notes” bit I did on the Vampire Junkan comic, which seemed like a cute call back. I also used this as a way to skip past some of the initial dialogue of the scene in terms of adaptation. I’m really happy with how this page turned out visually, I remember having to fiddle with Mukuro’s anatomy and smaller details for awhile.

As you can probably tell, like usual the art for this was still being done as a sketch which I colored rather than what I do in my usual comic stuff, that being Sketch > Lines > Colors > Shading. I did shade a few of these pages cause I think the extra effort was warranted for some pages. I wouldn’t know this without like, actually time traveling to check but I think there was even a time this would be just uncolored sketches. Clearly that didn’t last because yeah, the chick who’s drawing 100 days worth of junkan art is going to make a 22 page comic and NOT color the whole thing, keep telling yourself that Jem.

Once again since I was directly adapting this fic like with Day 20, I tried to be semi accurate in what I assume Junko’s appearance would be, giving her the bunny and bow clips in her hair. I didn’t go all the way since honestly I think i would have gone a little crazy if I drew both characters in their actual Hope’s Peak uniforms for the whole thing, so I mostly stuck to their killing game designs with that small change to Junko. And yes, I did have to edit Junko’s hair to remove the bear clips multiple times throughout the first few pages because I kept forgetting not to draw them. For the first time having these two memorized was a hindrance. 

If you’ve ever seen me draw a Question Mark with a cross instead of a dot when drawing Mikan, it’s cause of this comic. Val said it was a cute detail so I decided to stick with it when applicable.

I think I have read the segment of the story this is based on like, 30 times bare minimum. Now some of those times were just because I often reread this fic to help me relax before sleeping, but the majority are because I kept looking at this scene over and over again so I could try and get every detail of this perfect. The posing, expressions, and other visuals, while a little rough around the edges were all possible after going over every paragraph to get the vibe as close as possible.

The dialogue is word for word, punctuation for punctuation ripped from the fic itself. Mildly difficult to pull off without having to extend certain pages, but in the end I managed to pull it off.

Page 7 is one of my favorite pages from the experience. Originally the visual was supposed to be Junko in literal chains of despair with Mikan coming in with a key to unlock them, however chains are agonizing to draw. Not drawing them was a form of self care, even if I think it would have been a bit of a stronger metaphor. 

Mikan’s expressions were very difficult to get just right in this, which was half the fun. Do you know how fucking satisfying it was to draw her happy crying??? Very.

Page 10 is another one I’m really happy with. I don’t know exactly what the original plan was beyond the fact that I wanted the shot of Mikan reacting to that being a lot more visually extreme for the colors and amount of space it takes up to make it as overwhelming as possible. But I went in reverse  and made the initial heart stop moment of her realizing that Junko just said that more prominent than the rush of emotion hitting her right after.

There were going to be more visuals of Mikan being cute in the following page, however not only was I struggling for ideas but also my energy was fluctuating to hell and back by this point in the comic.

It took awhile to get the initial kiss to look good because by this point I was still really figuring out how the fuck to do that. I can’t remember if I mentioned it but the kiss in the Vampire Comic is one I actually edited after the fact before the post was scheduled because it looked really weird and pissed me off. Luckily this one doesn’t bother me at all. I remember being super paranoid i made the posing look too sexual, I don’t know what the fuck past me was on about but I’m not here to question I’m here to curse you all with knowledge and funfacts.

On page 15 Junko’s blush and smile are a bit more intense compared to the other panels on this page while she wipes away Mikan’s tears. This is because in future stories by Val it is confirmed a few times that Junko has dacryphilia, meaning she thinks Mikan looks really hot when she’s crying. Yes I’m really working in details from other fics into this comic, you should not be surprised this isn’t even the weirdest thing i’ve put in this whole event.

Peak comedy that I mentioned the question mark with the cross dot earlier and on Page 16 I didn’t do that, immersion broken, back to square one Past Jem!

Junko with no contacts!!! I mentioned during one of the Vampire AU days that while I don’t feature it in that AU alone I like the idea of Junko’s real eye color being red. Something I can never remember whether it’s actually canon or just strongly implied. I think this is the page I put the most amount of effort into, both to make it look well lit, and also to make sure her god damn eyes look as pretty as humanly possible. The end result may or may not be my favorite page of the whole comic? I dunno

I said Mikan’s expressions were hard to draw for this since I wanted to get them just right, she requires a lot more work on the smaller details to make everything feel right. Junko however? Oh no I was thriving by this point, her more lowkey expressions do need a bit more thought and effort, but by this point in the comic I was in my element with her. 

But speaking of expressions, Page 19.

That smile on Mikan in the middle panel took 20 fuckin’ minutes because I had never drawn Mikan looking that happy and I had no fucking idea what I was doing. I did actually edit the page last night (as of the writing of this post), however it wasn’t for the expression. In the original version of the page, Junko looked really fuckin weird in the last panel, like I don’t know how I let that slide but her whole face and neck looked way off. These pages aren’t like, perfect quality but that one was just egregious. Also edited Mikan’s blush in that panel just cause I was already there.

Junko’s surprised face was very fun.

And I think if I were gonna ever redo any page in full for this comic it’d be the last one. I don’t think this one looks bad I just know that I could I could do way better nowadays even if I stuck to just coloring a sketch. Maybe sometime down the line.

And that’s the comic itself! I can’t think of any other fun facts or thoughts on the art itself at this point. Uhhhh, I guess the cover I made last minute for this post is technically a reference to a future day? What does that mean? Oh you’ll fuckin’ see.

So 2 weeks of effort with little feedback and rereading the same scene over and over again, was it worth it?

God yes it was.

When I sent Val the Google Drive folder with the comic I was jittery for hours as if I had too much coffee. I was nervous as shit over whether she would like it or not, since this was when I still was a perpetual nervous wreck with very little self respect who was viewing her as “Coolest Person Ever” rather than “That’s bestie.” I was also nervous because it was the first time I actually asked for a more detailed response rather than just letting her respond in whatever way she wanted.

But when she responded?

I have lived the past several years doing weed, I’ve recently quit (i think by the time this posts it���ll be close to 3 months since I went clean), but that’s besides the point. I’ve had mild highs, crazy highs, bad highs, good highs, sad highs, and highs where I don’t feel anything. 

I severely doubt that any drug or vice on this planet will ever match the feeling of reading that response. I was shaking, I bit my knuckles until it left indents for like a full hour minimum, an adrenaline rush doesn’t even begin to describe what I was experiencing. I rode out the happiness from this moment for an entire week, I worked on comm jobs that would normally leave me feeling aggravated as hell and did so with a smile because I was just that fuckin excited over it. This probably sounds embarrassing as shit but there have been times where I go back to read that response when I just need a pick me up.

I had a fuckin epiphany at that moment. Who fuckin cares?

24 fucking years (25 starting tomorrow) I’ve lived my life as a people pleaser perfectionist with extreme paranoia problems with absolutely no self esteem and a whole wealth of other mental health issues. I would feel like dogshit if I halfassed a comm even if it was a really bad one. My whole goal in life was to make a webcomic that would make EVERYONE happy, be a positive part of their week. I was paranoid about pissing off the wrong people, starting shit, how people perceive me, about what ideas for my comic would be problematic or not. But after this? Who gives a shit?

It ain’t about making People Happy it’s about making Yourself Happy and the People you can reach happy. My goal is still to make a webcomic that people will come across, and look forward to every week as an escape to give them some positive vibes every week, but I ain’t gonna do that if I’m desperately trying to appeal to every single person on the planet while trying to stay as uncontroversial as possible. I wanna make art that makes people happy, and if I make it the way I wanna make it then it will eventually reach the people that it can make happy.

But enough of that shit, the actual big thing that happened because of my complete reassessment of my personal values and entire goal for life is that I fucking finally stopped giving a shit about whether people were gonna throw me in a woodchipper because I shipped Junkan. And it will continue to get funnier and funnier that after all the time I spent scared out of my fuckin’ mind over what people would think, that absolutely fucking nothing happened. It is day 49 at the time of writing this and STILL I have not had anyone give me grief or issues over this whole project, nothing but support and even some new friends over it. You cannot write something funnier than that.

I think if I went back in time and told myself at the beginning of the year that her fears were completely unfounded she would bleed out the eyes and pass out, and I would laugh. I’d laugh so fuckin’ hard.

So yeah, this Comic and the reaction it elicited changed my entire perspective on life and being an artist, I can’t say It’s been perfect or that I haven’t faltered on certain things, but  I think to an extent I have been a lot happier as a result. Is it a little weird that this niche version of a niche ship is now directly tied to a drastic change in my mind? Is it any weirder than the fact that I transitioned into a woman because I binge read like, all of the Tokomaru I possibly could on AO3 and it made me think that wearing a skirt might be cool?

Alright so how’re ya'll holdin up? Drink some water we ain’t done. This is already getting up to 7 pages on the google doc that I prepare these posts on and now I have to like, talk about Everything You’ve Ever Dreamed properly. So bare witness to me trying to figure out how the hell to format talking about what might just be my favorite fic of all time.

But first lemme go reread the entire thing, I know the passage of time doesn’t exist in the context of these text walls but i’ll be back in like, a few hours to a day.

Okay i’m back-

I’m honestly not sure where to start here. Normally with my biggest obsessions I could probably go on lengthy rambles about why I love them so much, but this? I struggle to find a proper place to start, or even how to format this. I don’t want to just give a beat for beat plot synopsis while talking about the things I like, but also how do I talk about something this good otherwise.

So fair warning this might be completely incoherent at points, sorry??

This was not like, the third Junkan fic I ever read despite it being one of the three fics vital to me becoming the inhuman machine of pure Junkan brainrot that I’ve become today. A lot of things are blurred but if I remember right the exact timeline of events was Read a cute Junkan fic which made me think “Wait this ship can be soft and cute???” and then I read Smile by Kayleen, which is funny in hindsight because I really went to tooth rotting fluff to one of the darkest Non-Abusive Junkan fics out there (dark by my standards at least and I think my frame of reference is out of sorts). I think after that I just stopped for awhile, partially because Smile wasn’t finished at the time, partially because I still wasn’t sure how to navigate the Junkan tag to find what I was looking for in the ship.

Smile comes to a thrilling conclusion and I think to myself “maybe this author has more?” which is how I found Kayleen’s series of One-Shots for these two (along with separate three other pieces), I read through those in a day and would continue to check the tag to see if it updated, like, every day.  Eventually after a couple months (possibly way longer), something came over me and I finally started seriously looking over the tag to try and find more Soft Junkan, whether there were others I read before it or not, I honestly can’t remember. 

What I do remember is I came across “The Marvelous Makeover of Mikan Tsumiki” by VanadisValentine. I don’t know how I found that before the fic of today’s subject, if I had to guess I wasn’t reading the tags first on this run through. I was likely reading the name of the fic, and THEN i read the tags to see if it has what I was looking for (I wasn’t a starving animal for the ship by this point so I was a lot more picky with what I was willing to risk my time on). And this fic’s name was slightly more eye catching for me at the time I guess??

Fun fact when I first read this fic I wasn’t even sure if it actually was a shipping piece at first, not until finishing it at least. How? Poor reading comprehension is my only guess lol. Anyway, I finish that, loved it, and made my usual move of checking to see if the author had written anything else like this fic, and oh boy did she. 

This finally brings us to me finally reading “Everything You’ve Ever Dreamed.” Took us fucking long enough.

It was perfect, it was everything. I fucking loved reading it the entire time. It had everything I could have wanted out of this ship without me even realizing what I wanted at the time. The weirdest part that my immediate response after wasn’t to go on an adrenaline fueled binge of the tag like I did for Tokomaru way back when I first got into Danganronpa. The most I did was read the other Junkan fics in Val’s library at the time. Otherwise I just stopped again. 

It was then that I drew the first three days of this event, the original sketches. I kept them a secret between myself and a small few friends, too paranoid to let anyone find out. And things just kinda stayed like that, for awhile. And then sometime in December, of last year I decided to give that same fic another read, and something just kinda, fucking snapped?

I went up and down the Junkan Tag on AO3, reading whatever I could, I was reading stuff I wouldn’t have ever risked reading with variable amounts of success. I only skipped a small handful of fics, including one that we’ll come back to way later in the project. Everything else I was scraping even the smallest crumb of fic to read at times. After that I scoured the tumblr tags, taking in whatever soft art or headcanons that I could, I went to Fanfiction.net, a website I still barely know how to fuckin’ navigate to try and find ANYTHING. I went to Deviantart to try and find any art or fics, no results not helped by the fact that it would include results that were slightly related. And not to sound like a Youtuber with no personality who’s built their career on punching down at whoever they can because otherwise their audience would see they’re a complete shell of a human being, but it being deviantart you can imagine what I was finding more often on that search. 

I even went to Wattpad, and that ones it’s own mini story that I’m saving for Tomorrow because the art for Tomorrow doesn’t have a lot of talking points on it’s own like this one does. But Wattpad had no fuckin results either.

I cannot remember the last time I had ever been this obsessed with a ship, this desperate. So, 100 Days of Junkan began, even if it wasn’t planned to be this big project. All cause of this fic turning a switch in my brain with a hammer.

Hey look we’re talking about the fic again, I told you this was gonna incoherent.

Anyway so the fic is just, perfect? To me at least? Before I had even realized why I liked the ship in the first place it did everything that I love about it at it’s core. It practically set the standard for the ship in my brain, at bare minimum within the context of a Non-Despair AU. And overtime as Val’s continued to write for these two her portrayals of the character are practically just how I view them at this point.

It’s not 1 to 1 but you can likely trace every aspect of how I portray Junko and Mikan whether through art or writing back to Val’s writing, down to even using certain pet names for the characters because of their usage in her work. I’d worry that I’m being way too much, heaping an overbearing amount of praise and respect. But also this fic unintentionally sent me careening into the direction of drawing 150+ Junkan pictures, learning various new skills and techniques as an artist, rekindled my love of writing (despite the horrors of actually having to write), making new friends both in and out of this community including some who I consider close, coping with mental health issues, and then performing this gigantic project at the tail end of the year. So I might actually be underselling this a bit in actuality. And don’t worry when I get to talking about a few other fics later in the project I’ll be doing my best to give equal praise to them as well, it’s just gonna be a bit sdlahfljasdfhas.

I’ve already said it but the fic has everything, at least of the core reasons I love this ship from the non-abusive perspective that this blog has built its foundation on.

To me I love Junkan because it’s two people that could not be anymore different from one another, who arguably should despise one another finding happiness in each other. It adds a new layer of depth to Junko to ponder how someone like her, whether in canon or in a non-despair AU like this could fall in genuine love with a total wreck like Mikan and how that would affect her character. It’s fluffy moments of Mikan getting to be genuinely happy for what might be the first time in her life while Junko showers her with affection. It’s Junko being fucking hilarious while Mikan can barely keep up with her humor and teasing because she’s so flustered. It’s Junko grappling with newfound emotions. It’s Junko and Mikan bringing out the best in each other and inciting positive change through their influence. It’s that perfect blend of hurt/comfort. And so much more beyond that, all contained in this one god damn fic. I might even be forgetting things I like about the ship too, there’s just so much that goes into this!

Obviously this is all specifically in a Non-Despair context, the Evil Girlfriends angle has a myriad of other reasons to enjoy the ship which I’ve become fond of. Especially in some of the parallels it can have with a non-Toxic Yuri angle of things. But that doesn’t really apply for today’s subject and I’m not someone who’s deeply knowledgeable or equipped to sing its praises at the moment. Maybe in the future though?

Is there anything else I can yammer on about with this fic? Uhhhh- Oh. I love how it uses the supporting cast. I think Val has a really excellent grasp on how to write Mukuro and Junko’s dynamic without dipping into the territory of DR3 where it just gets a bit uncomfortable. I think that’s better exemplified in one of her other fics rather than this story, but I still do love Mukuro’s portrayal and role in the story. This was my first time learning who Yasuke was, I hadn’t properly heard of Danganronpa Zero by this point so I was really confused as to who the hell he was. Certainly left a strong impression in the story though. I think Kaede’s sudden appearance and role in the plot progressing towards the stunning climax of Chapter 4 was really good! 

I very often go back to Chapter 1, 4, and 5 whenever I need to go to relax before bed. I’ve reread this fic multiple times as a whole but an absolute fuck ton of times as separated pieces, they’re so god damn soothing on my mind. 

The fact that I haven’t left giant fuckin’ comments on any chapter of that fic is quite frankly one of my deepest sins, but one of these days I’m gonna buckle down and write up on those because they deserve every ounce of praise in my scrawny lil whitegirl body. 

I think I’ve said everything I can for now but even now I feel like I haven’t gotten across how much I love this fic. It genuinely is my favorite fanfiction out there both just for the quality of it’s writing and the comically massive influence it had on my life this year. If you somehow haven’t read it by now, please do, if you like the art I’ve drawn of this ship over the past 60 days I can almost 100% guarantee that you’ll like this story. And read the rest of Val’s fics too! Please! 

As always, Reblogs, Comments, and Little Notes in the Tags are appreciated!~ They always make my day!~

[breakyourrxles]

❥between two breaths (m) | 𝟝

𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐚𝐥

↳ Riding high on the exuberance of a successful debut, your guard falls for only a moment... Unfortunately, that is just enough time for you to be found out.

kim sunwoo x fem!reader (side lee juyeon x reader) — idol!sunwoo, fan/trainee!reader. forced proximity, forbidden love, friends to lovers, angst, slow burn, idolverse-typical themes regarding; dating, image, public perception, etc. happy ending, plot-heavy!! reader thinks she's nonchalant about it but she rly isn't. smut. [5,0k wc ongoing] cws: heavy themes of wanting-but-can't-having, mild jealousy, explicit sexual content, a little alcohol consumption, dancing on the edge of career suicide, poor decision making because of The Wanting.

❥ masterlist | ao3

"Do you remember the first time we held hands?"

Tickets for the MVNE debut showcase sold out quickly, and while it is the ideal situation, you could not help but notice the evident shock held in the reactions from the staff and managers who work closely to you.

In all fairness, you and the girls had been rather surprised by it too. Nara sat glued to her phone on the morning of release, constantly cycling between various social media platforms, the ticketing page, and media outlets. Silent, curious; a little apprehensive about what the result of this could mean for the immediate future of the group as a whole.

When it was all said and done, she huffed out a sigh of relief and without so much as a word, stuffed her phone into her bag and finished preparations for leaving the dorm that day.

Now, the showcase day has come.

From backstage you can hear the ambient sounds of people filing into the venue to find their seats. It's difficult to make sense of who the majority of voices are coming from; do men prefer MVNE? Do women? What is your fanbase from the beginning going to be like? What are they expecting based off of debut album teaser photos and soundbites? Based off of introduction footage and a single photoshoot done with your labelmates.

There is a lot that lingers on your mind, but today is hardly the day to be able to grant most of it much attention.

Sunwoo has sent you congratulations and good luck, but you've not yet found the time to respond despite the fact that your phone has remained close to you. Rather, you are perfectly capable of carving out the time necessary for doing so, but responses from you beget further messages received from him, and to put it plainly; you have been dodging him ever since.

You and the girls stand together in the wings while stylists hover around and make finishing touches to hair, make-up and outfits. Woori gives a wonderfully eloquent pep talk about how all of you have worked so incredibly hard for—and are unwaveringly deserving of—this moment right here. Miyoung nearly cries and Woori begs her not to because they don't have the kind of time now for the stylists to fix that kind of disaster scenario, but all-in-all; spirits are high and smiles are wide amongst all of you. The time spent getting here has been shorter than for most, and in ways, this terrifies you just that much more.

What if you're not ready? What if speedrunning debut will be the downfall of everyone?

The lights dim, and Jaehyun comes around from his own green room down the hall. Greetings are exchanged and you cannot help but be moderately thankful for him being chosen as the MC for the event, when there are other, more troublesome options.

You can't dodge Sunwoo forever, nor do you want to. Right now, there is far too much going on in your life for you to be especially fussed over a kiss that really never should have happened at all. The conversation weighs even heavier in the background of your thoughts, and when your brain is not bombarded by the incessant requirements of choreography and line distribution, one of many lines said by him always seems to find a way to claw itself back up to the forefront of everything.

Sunwoo can wait, and he can be dealt with at a later time when the whirlwind experience of being a freshly debuted idol group has died down just a bit. He isn't going anywhere, and hopefully, he'll be just a little bit more understanding of it than what you are, perhaps, even particularly deserving of.

The crowd cheers, the backtrack starts filtering in through the speakers, and one staff member loudly shouts that it is time.

Looking into the reflection of the elevator mirror, you're a little perplexed by what stares back at you.

To say that you do not recognize yourself would, of course, be a great exaggeration, but you suppose that in the days since the official debut of MVNE, you have begun to feel fragmented in ways that have previously been unknown to you.

Knowing yourself has always been a relatively simple task, but now, more than one version of you seems to exist. There is the version of yourself that the company hopes to fine-tune and perfectly craft for the consumption of the masses, and as a result of that, an absolutely incomprehensible amount of versions splinter off in how any one individual person seems to receive it. Suppose that this sort of dichotomy stands in life altogether; the you that you understand yourself to be and the you that the people around you take it as; only now, the scale is far grander, and the footing you once felt you had on all of this feels just a little bit less stable than what you are accustomed to.

At least your outfit looks nice.

Beside you, Woori pays no attention to her own appearance as the elevator continues to climb up towards the destination. Lost in thoughts of her own from what you can tell, with much more on her plate of responsibilities than the rest of you may ever truly come to understand. Still, she is doing well and you are more than proud of her, and at the risk of her own anxieties souring the mood of what is meant to be a fun and joyous evening, you take it upon yourself to shatter the silence.

"Tonight is going to be good," you say. "For just a few hours, we can leave everything else at the door."

Woori turns to look at you, and though there is a smile pulling at her lips, it's easy enough to see that it is at least somewhat forced.

"I don't know if I can ever really leave it all at the door. Not for a long, long time."

"You should talk to Sangyeon more. Your position is a stressful one, you don't have to do it all alone."

Though there is obvious apprehension in her acceptance of those words, Woori nods just slightly and says, "Yeah, I know you're right." Her smile grows into something more genuine then, and with a soft cock of her head she changes the subject to say, "You look nice, not that that's anything out of the ordinary. Trying to impress somebody tonight?"

You wish to tell yourself that you've not given the previous circumstances any thought whatsoever, but that would be a lie and you are in no such position to begin trying to make yourself believe things that you know to be untrue. The debut showcase has been days past already, the reception has been good, and outside of hefty schedules and a grueling attention to the way that you present to any and everyone at all times, there really is only one thing on your mind.

And you can't ignore him forever.

"No, I didn't even know they would be here." A lie, albeit not one intended to delude yourself. "What is with you always thinking I have some ulterior motive to everything?" you joke.

Shrugging, Woori's hands come up into the air as if to express some sign of submission to the questioning. "Not at all! The two of you are just friends! Which means…" A hand comes up to thoughtfully pinch at her chin, and then she says, "Perhaps someone else is on the table, then."

"There's no table!"

"So you've never thought about it? Not even once?"

This question catches you completely off guard, especially due to the seriousness in Woori's tone when she offers it to you. The comical ambiance of the conversation has now fallen aside in favor of something much more intimate and much more real in ways that you had not been ready for, and as a result, you are wholly incapable of dialing back the way in which it makes you reel.

Silence coats the air, your breath caught in your throat and heart racing at the implications of what your leader is asking you. There is no togetherness or bond established in lying, but the fear of what the truth may unearth between you frightens you into a state of quiet shock.

The elevator slows to a stop, a loud beep follows it, and before you have a chance to say anything Woori takes your hand and guides you out towards the celebration.

It is all far more involved than you expected, if you're being honest.

For as far as your eye can see, people from the company, shareholders, and other big monetary players are dressed in expensive suits and smiling ear-to-ear at the conversations of success that surely must be happening. For the most part, you are lucky to be excluded from them all, though it does make the fact of the matter that much more apparent to you.

Within it, is something that you have always known: that you as a person—as an idol—are far and away the least important piece of this entire puzzle to them. You are little more than a tiny, moving part within a grander scheme of something far greater than yourself. Many of these people do not consider you, nor any of the other members, an integral part of making this what it has become. A tiny screw tasked with holding the entire machine together, but easily replicated and replaced should you find yourself coming undone.

There exists many of "you," but far less of them. A finite resource of people capable of assembling that which you have become a part of. 

For the most part, you have made peace with this fact already, and long before the day of debut came. Suppose that you have to, because fighting this machine is a losing battle, and far more often than not it is defeat waiting on the other side. Still, there is only so much solace to find.

The people that bother to take the time to converse with you are nice enough and pleasant to engage in simple, brief discussions with. Some ask your name, because they do not know it despite dumping incomprehensible amounts of money into the project. Some question your position, or even ask about the friends and family that you have forgone seeing in the countless days leading up to this; seemingly none the wiser about the effort and loss someone must suffer to ever see that day on the stage.

They mean well, and you have little other option than to carefully take your leave and find solace in the only two glasses of champagne you are allowed to have tonight.

At the hired bar, you down the final, hefty sip of your drink and set the glass down atop it a little bit harder than you had intended to. Your frustration at all of this creeps out minutely in small gestures and perfectly maneuvered eye-rolls so that the people they are intended for do not actually see them. Perhaps, after everything, you're getting quite good at this acting thing.

"You can't dodge me forever, you know."

The presence of another person comes unexpectedly, and your reaction tells the very same tale. You recoil, head snapping around to the direction from which it has come, but before you're able to fully make the turn, he is already circling around to settle just in front of you.

Sunwoo says, "Not very good with answering your phone nowadays, are you?"

"I'm a bit wrapped up, maybe you remember? Or has the cushy life of an idol well into his years eroded your ability to?"

Eyes narrowing, Sunwoo looks at you like he is trying to decipher the hidden meaning behind the words, as if he does not fully believe that what you are saying is precisely what you are intended to convey. Unfortunate for you, his innate ability to see straight through you.

"Let's go outside," he says, "It smells like every single luxury fragrance ever made all at the same time and if I have to have another conversation about some up and coming ad campaign somebody wants me to do I might just flush my head down the toilet."

Reluctant to follow, you do so with little argument otherwise. Thankfully, the outdoor balcony on the conference room floor is boxed in and heated, though seemingly hardly used by the attendees here tonight.

Sunwoo leads the way, and though the two of you pass by a few forgotten glasses and discarded cigarette butts, signs of life are hard to come by. It isn't especially out of the way from where the remainder of the party is taking place, and though it is far from ideal that you be seen wandering off with him, the people littering the floor are amongst the safest to ever catch wind of it now.

He seems wholly unbothered by the entire thing, and unsurprisingly so.

From this vantage point, the Seoul cityscape below is stunning. Both of you stop for just a moment to take it in, gazing down at how bright and small everything looks from where you stand now. Compact yet grand simultaneously in ways that you cannot quite seem to fathom the intricacies of.

Then, Sunwoo turns his sights back to you.

His suit is nice, and for once, he is wearing clothes that actually fit him. The same person more often than not found in oversized hoodies and baggy pants now dressed in ways that are far more familiar to you as an idol, rather than a friend. It feels a little surreal to look at him now, and that feeling is driven home just that much more once you rationalize the fact that he is here tonight to celebrate you. 

"So," Sunwoo says, "you've been ignoring me."

"I wouldn't say that."

"Well, I would! What else would you call it when I send you twelve text messages over the span of a week and you barely reply to any of them?"

You feign a look of thoughtfulness, as if genuinely considering your next line of attack and then say, "I would say that I'm not ignoring you, because I'm replying! Sometimes."

His eyes roll and he huffs out a labored, somewhat annoyed sigh. "Seriously?"

In all honesty, this is a conversation that you wishfully had hoped to avoid all the while knowing full well that you would not be able to. Not if you intend to keep your friendship with him intact, at least. Thus, with Sunwoo's annoyance evident, you relent to his questioning and give up the fight.

"You know…" you begin, but nothing more follows it for far too many moments. There are many things that you could say; so many things that linger just at the precipice of your thoughts that could so easily mend the most pressing issue that stands between the two of you now. The fact that this—whatever this even is—can't continue forward in the ways that have already begun to blossom. There are easy ways, succinct ways to end this, to put a nail in the coffin of any hope that may be creeping its way inside of what has always been, and always should be, nothing more than a friendship.

And yet they all sit on your tongue, unable to fully come to fruition in the ways that your mind desperately urges them to.

You swallow them all down—tasteless and soon to be forgotten—and simply say: "We shouldn't."

Leaning against the glass encasement with his shoulder and arms crossed over himself, that choice of words appears to amuse Sunwoo because all he says in response is a simple repetition of the word "shouldn't."

Your strength to remain firm in that is quickly dissolving, and with remarkably little insisting from the man standing in front of you, too. It is a rather fast realization that you come to as both of your eyes meet and a single corner of his lips twists up into a sly smirk, that you are not wholly equipped to stand strong in this demand; because it is not a demand, and against your desire to do so, you do not even fully believe yourself, either.

It takes effort to steady your breathing as anxiousness filters up and through your form. Your heartbeat quickens the longer you look at him, and it doesn't take long for you to recognize that look that's seated deep in his eyes.

"Shouldn't," Sunwoo says again, this time accompanied by his arms dropping, and one hand reaching forward to find your own. "Or can't?"

The temperature inside of the outdoor enclosure is regulated, but it is cold outside, and you anticipate his touch to feel ice cold as a result. Quite the contrary, however; Sunwoo's hand is warm compared to your own and easy to get lost in despite being offered so little of it. Your mind swims with the question, the simplicity of it and how easy it can all be should you find the courage to put an end to this game once and for all. 

You don't even notice how smoothly he pulls your body closer to his, and once you do, all you can think about is how easy it can be to once again get away with this.

"Do you remember the first time we held hands?"

Sunwoo brings your hands up together so that the both of you can see them, then gently folds your fingers together in ways that you have many times before. The feeling is familiar, yet foreign; revisited in a way that makes it previously unexplored.

"Of course I do," you say. "My first fansign. I was so nervous, Kevin made fun of me."

"I know, I remember." Sunwoo smiles as he recalls the memory, then says, "When we finished they kept teasing me about the cute girl who was my fan, how I always get the fans who look like they might throw up, which isn't entirely untrue. Apparently I'm intense."

"Do you think it might have anything to do with your willingness to treat every single one of them like they are your real, actual girlfriend?"

Glancing up for only a second, Sunwoo thinks the question over but ultimately decides on a lackadaisical reply of "perhaps."

"Point is," he says, gripping your hand more tightly and continuing to pull your body towards his own. "I remember, too. I remember a lot of firsts between us; first fansign, first ad campaign, first time I slipped you my number at a fansign… as well as the second, third and fourth times because you never actually called or messaged me before the fifth…"

You remember it all just as well, and though you are intent on paying attention to the recollection of events, the feeling of his second hand sliding up to find purchase at your waist becomes unbearably distracting the moment it finds you. Your breath catches in your throat, heart racing as you attempt to find your proverbial footing within the whirlwind of happenings taking place around you. He pulls you in further—against him—the hand once held in his being guided to snake around his back and before you even have a chance to correct the action, you find yourself falling into the behavior with shameful, unprecedented ease.

"So, shouldn't, or can't?" 

The question is repeated in quiet words ghosted across your lips, and Sunwoo lingers in the barely-there space to await your reply. You know the right answer, you know perfectly well what the right choice is, but with every passing day that you have been forced to see him, forced to engage with him, forced to pretend that none of this is precisely the thing that so many of your peers fear that it might be; you cannot help but feel the selfish urge to indulge in precisely the thing that you know you should not.

Concepts of should not and cannot occupy so much of the very same space, you come to discover.

Once the seal is broken, it is so easy to fall back in. Sunwoo kisses you with the kind of apprehension that only a person anticipating rejection truly can, and your only answer to it is to offer him no such thing. Your free hand finds its way upwards to settle on his shoulder, and almost immediately does his unease fall away. Melting into this despite all warnings telling you that you shouldn't, your body utterly betrays any hope of being firm in that resolve. The hand at the back of his neck holds him firmer into you, his hand at your waist snakes around to the small of your back; realistically, this won't go any further and logistically it can't, but the consideration of even that much sends something of a worrying chill straight up your spine.

It's just so, so easy.

You wonder how realistic it could be—in theory—to throw all caution to the wind and allow this to be the thing that it now feels as though it was always meant to be. Yes, you have thought about it, and yes, you have done everything in your power to put those inclinations completely out of your mind. It was never a reasonable, realistic possibility. A whimsical idea that could be tucked into a box and forgotten about with little more consideration spent towards it.

Much of your life now is spent within a balancing act of making sense of oppositional components, with this being no different. The incredible spectrum of will-they and won't-they, with your sanity hanging somewhere in between.

The remainder of your anxiety regarding all of this falls away in favor of simply melting further into him, and you consider one of the most harrowing thoughts of all: If Sunwoo is undeterred by the potential outcome of this, then why should you be?

And then, you are reminded why.

Closer to the door back inside, the sound of someone loudly clearing their voice booms like an alarm to your ears. Immediately, you push yourself away from Sunwoo and fully out of his grasp even though the damage has already long since done. There is nothing to hide and no one to fool, as far as the three of you now stand to be concerned.

Wiping the corner of your mouth gently, you look down at the light smearing of colored gloss that now smears across the back of your hand.

"Well, can't say I'm surprised," Woori says. Her voice is stern and faintly disappointed, though her facial expression gives little away as to what else she may be thinking of feeling upon the discovery. "I'd be lying if I didn't say I was hoping we'd have been a bit further into our careers, though."

"It's really not what it looks—"

Woori snorts a laugh that cuts off your insistence midway and says, "That's going to be a very hard sell, based on what I just saw."

Silence sweeps the balcony, your eyes draw from her and up to Sunwoo, who has nothing more to add to the conversation taking place. A part of you wants nothing more than for him to find some way to absolve the both of you of the consequences from this, but logically speaking, you are well aware that this is far from anything that he has the power to rescue you from.

This is between you and MVNE. 

But rather than engage further, Woori turns and takes her exit from the shared space, leaving only you and the problem that you have done little to attempt to rectify.

As the party begins to die down, you ensure that you and Sunwoo are not to be seen on the same side of the room, much less in each other's more localized vicinity. Some of the other girls find you throughout the night with laughs shared and stories told; no implications that the knowledge your leader has discovered earlier has drifted down throughout the creek. You keep waiting for it, waiting for the moment that a suspicious eye will catch your own, or a pointed joke will leave the lips of someone that you wish not to have the ability to make it and yet… it never comes.

With a stomach full of knots and a third drink stolen, you check the time and the recollection of all of the schedules that MVNE has throughout the next day comes flooding back to you. It's going to be a rough one, the girls will all be tired and have to put on their best performances in so many ways. No time for naps, no understanding from anyone that you had a late night and so you might not be as spry as everyone would hope for. These are not options for you; show up as the exact version that everyone is expecting to see, and do it every single time.

Things will only get harder from here.

You glance around the hall and near the exit, you catch eyes with Woori once again. She nods for you to go to her—much to your surprise—and though you tell yourself that it is in an effort to wrangle the girls for going home, your hopes are swiftly dashed by how quickly she makes her way through the doors. Waiting for you to follow, and no sign from the others.

Once down in the lobby, nobody else is there to greet you. It is only you and the woman who now knows the one thing that you had hoped that no one would ever be able to know, the one secret that you desperately needed to keep secure no matter what.

She stands there on the freshly buffed marble under dim lighting with her back turned towards you, staring out of one of the massive windowed walls that leads towards the street. It's still early enough that plenty of people are making their way to and from places, and though there is nothing to bar anyone from looking inside, MVNE's popularity is not yet that of a group that needs to concern themselves with the privacy of various passersby.

To speak first is to surrender, you think to yourself, and as a result of it you do not say a word. Woori knows she is no longer alone here and is likely gathering her thoughts to best convey the many emotions she is experiencing in such a short time. It is a lot for her to shoulder, a lot of extra potential problems and damage control for her to manage in the event that things spiral out of control in some way. For all intents and purposes, she must assume the worst; that this has been going on for a long time, that you have always been lying about him and your intentions, and that MVNE really has always been merely a means to an end, after all.

You watch Woori turn towards you with a shocking amount of spring to her movement, and even more to your surprise: there is a smile waiting there for you.

"It's not great timing."

There's a hint of humor to her voice that you're not anticipating at all, and though your throat is dry and your heart has leapt up to reside somewhere within it—at the very least—it does a miniscule job of taking the edge off.

"I didn't…" you start to say, and then realize that you are now forced into a position where you have a final decision to make. Either you keep lying despite what she has seen, and what you cannot promise will not occur again in the future, or you finally confess your truth and lay it all out on the table for her to finally have the option to work with. 

Figure, eventually, you are simply going to have to start trusting her to make the right choice. Not only for the group, but for you individually, as well.

And so, you swallow down whatever lie you had originally intended to tell her, inhale a breath long and deep, and then say, "It hasn't always been like this."

"Well, I should hope not," Woori says. "Wouldn't be a particularly good impression of him if it was."

"What I mean is…" You close your eyes, gather yourself and your courage the best that you can in an effort to finally go through with this. "We've been friends for a while. Before I was a trainee. We had already been meeting privately as friends. Nothing more. I really need you to understand that it was never like this before."

The surprise on Woori's face is now evident despite her usual unwillingness to show any such thing. Her eyes never leave you as she takes the information in and processes it to the best of her ability, as if scanning you for any hint of deception that you cannot blame her for being in search of.

Eventually, she says, "What changed?"

A question that even you have spent time mulling over, now humorously presented to you as if you are somehow meant to have the answer to it. You shrug, offer a half-hearted laugh and simply say, "I don't know. Proximity, I guess."

Woori does not respond to that immediately, and instead allows a few moments of silence to hang over the two of you instead. The worried beat of your heart being the only thing you can hear ringing through your ears.

"Is this… going to be a thing, then?" Woori asks, slow and calculated in her delivery of it. "Is this going to keep happening? Is it going to… become more than whatever it already is?"

You believe it wholeheartedly when you answer her, because this has already become so much more than what it was ever meant to be and the thought of weathering anything additional makes your stomach twist with a kind of harrowing discomfort that you cannot imagine bearing the feeling of forever.

"No. No, it's not."

And you mean it.

[thoughtfulchaos773]

One of my favorite scenes, big reason, is Sydney opening up and Carmy experiencing pain for Sydney.

But another thing the scene points out is they these two are not platonic. If they are the type of friends that epitomize a platonic relationship with a work family that feels closer than a family, he would know this about Sydney. Yet, he doesn’t. Syd still holds back when it comes to Carmy.

To be fair, she held back about her mom with Marcus too. But now that it’s clear that Marcus and Sydney have a platonic relationship, there’s an ease in their getting to know one another. Currently, based on what the show has presented, we see Carmy trying to get to know Sydney, who remains reserved about her mother until she can't find a way to put her guard up.

That's the dance with these two Sydney puts her guard up Carmy tries to get to know her- how is that friendship or how is that even what Donna says in season 4? That they're closer than family family?

Maybe because we are just getting started next season on Sydney and Carmy becoming closer?

But really Why is it so difficult for them to hang out and party together? Why is Carmy so hurt by the realization that in not focusing on the restaurant, he's missing out on knowinh Sydney? If it's really about friendship, why are there so many barriers preventing it from developing?

Why is there jealousy? Distrust? The longing to trust and open up instead of just doing it? Why is it so difficult for Carmy and Sydney to talk about their deceased loved ones, unlike the conversations that Natalie and Richie have, or the ones Ebra and Tina share?

Why is it so difficult for Sydney and Carmy to have a conversation like Tina and Marcus did in season 3, episode 9, where they can truly check in with each other and exchange ideas?

It's not platonic, and as of now, I have nothing to show that for Sydney work, family - Carmy is closer to her than family.

[playedcrowd5610]

Catching Up With The Autobots - Danny Phantom x Transformers

Summary: After the events of "Additional Medical Assistance Required," June returns from her kidnapping shaken, and the Autobots are deeply concerned.

---

Notes

Set in a series where Danny finds Starscream one day and decides to start haunting the Decepticons. That's basically all the context you need but if you want more here is the rest of the series:

Haunting the Nemesis

Part 1: Chasing Stars

Part 2: Burning Rubber

Part 3: Adventures of the Decepticons' Pet Ghost Or Tumblr Master List

---

The Autobot base was nothing but quiet on days like this. And by days like this, it means. Days where all the Autobots and kids were under the same roof -Mountain?- Jack and Miko sat on the Autobot base’s only couch, elbowing each other, trying to distract one another from winning the game they were currency playing on the TV.

Bumblebee and Raf watched the game over the teen's shoulders with interest, Bulkhead and Arcee were having a conversation in the back, and Ratchet stood working on a few of his tools, threatening anyone who would try and distract him with a thrown wrench. Optimus stayed a safe enough distance away as he started up a conversation with his old friend.

Miko let out a whoop as her character got the upper hand, and Jack groaned.

"Come on, Miko! That was pure luck," he said, mashing buttons in an attempt to recover before slumping down in defeat on the couch. 

Miko smirked. "Luck? Or skill , Darby?" She stood from the couch to do a victory dance.

Before Jack could retort, the door to the base slid open. Agent Fowler, this was normal. The agent would come storming in, about to yell about something or other and get mad at Optimus. Everyone was tired of it. Jack glanced up anyway to see what was going to happen when he froze. Agent Fowler was supporting a person, not just any person—Jack's mom!

“MOM!” Jack shouted, dropping the controller and rushing to her side. “What happened? Are you okay?” He put his hands on her shoulders trying to get a closer look at her.

June offered a weak smile and held out one hand in a slow-down motion toward her son. “I’m fine, honey,” she said softly, leaning into Fowler for support.

“She was kidnapped by Cons,” Fowler answered for her.

“What?!” Jack's eyes widened, and he looked back and forth between his mom and Fowler in horror. The Autobots quickly gathered around. Bumblebee beeped with concern, placing Raf on the catwalk while Ratchet immediately began scanning June.

Fowler led her to the couch and sat her down before grabbing a blanket to place around her shoulders. “We had some strange reports from the hospital, and when we went to investigate, we discovered June in the lot. She was pretty shaken up.” He explained. 

“How did you get away?” Raf asked, his voice small.

“They… they let me go,” June said in disbelief.

Everyone in the room stared at her, eyes wide in shock. “That’s entirely unlike the Decepticons,” Ratchet said, looking back at the scan he took of June's vitals, seeming happy with them before closing it. “They wouldn’t just release you without a reason. Why would they risk exposure to take you in the first place?”

“What did they want with you?” Arcee asked, her tone sharp. “They don’t know your connection to us, do they? Because if they do, that puts you—and the kids—in even more danger.”

June shook her head. “No, it wasn’t that. They didn’t take me because of my connection to the Autobots. At least… I don’t think so. They didn't even know who I was.”

“Then what did they want?” Jack asked, sitting down next to her on the couch and putting a supportive hand on her knee.

“They wanted me for my medical expertise,” June explained. “At least, that’s what the jet… uh, Starscream said.”

“Wait.” Miko held her hands up. “Starscream kidnapped you because you’re a nurse ? What would that ugly gray stiletto-heeled Con want with a nurse?”

June looked at her hands and then back up at the others, taking a steading breath. It's been a long day for her. “He wanted me to patch up someone who was very injured.”

“Who?” Optimus asked, his deep voice resonating through the room.

June hesitated, her face pale as she glanced at Jack. “It was… a boy. A human boy, about Jack’s age”

“WHAT?!” the Autobots chorused, their disbelief echoing through the base.

“There is a human in Decepticon possession?” Optimus’s voice was heavy with concern.

June nodded. “He looked like he’d been through a lot. He was unconscious when I got there, but when he woke up, he didn’t seem… surprised. It was like he knew them.” Her voice cracked slightly, and she pressed a hand to her face. “Oh god. He reminded me of Jack. I can’t imagine Jack in the hands of the Decepticons.”

Jack’s stomach twisted, his mind racing. “Mom…” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Hey, what if it's the kid that Jack ran into at the race with Bumblebee?” Miko suggested, voice seeming too chipper for the situation.

Raf tilted his head and readjusted his glasses. “But wasn’t that six months ago?” 

Arcee crossed her arms. “I put him somewhere safe after the race. Knockout never left my sight until he escaped. There’s no way they could’ve gotten him again.”

Fowler frowned, rubbing his chin. “I tried looking into it after your report. We couldn’t find a trace of the kid after that incident. No cameras, no witnesses. It’s like he was a ghost.”

“You think they kidnapped him again because he knew too much?” Arcee suggested. “Tracked him down again?"

“It’s a possibility,” Optimus said gravely. “If this human is being held by the Decepticons, it is cause for concern. We must determine his connection to them and ensure his safety.”

June started to speak again but hesitated when she looked over at the kids. Their eyes settled on Jack for a long moment before turning away. “I… I need to speak with Ratchet and Optimus in private… Fowler too.”

“Oh, come on! How come we don’t get in on the hot goss.” Miko cried out.

“It's not ‘Hot Goss’ Miko, this is serious!” Jack snapped, standing up from the couch. “My mom was kidnapped by Decepticons! This isn’t just another one of your fun adventures.” He threw his hand to the side in outrage. 

Optimus tilted his head to the side in judgment. “Arcee, Bulkhead, Bumblebee. Please accompany the human children elsewhere while we discuss this.”

Miko crossed her arms in a pout. “So unfair!” 

Bulkhead sighed and used his hand to usher the teens out of the room. “Come on, Miko.”

Jack gave one last worried glance back to his mom before leaving with Arcee. He wanted to stay more than anything, make sure she was okay. But something must have happened that she really doesn’t want him to hear.

-

Optimus tilted his head toward June, patiently nodding. “What is it that you wish to speak with us about?”

June looked away, her expression troubled. “The kid’s injuries… Do you think the Decepticons might have caused them, or someone else? I don’t know…If it was the Decepticons, could this end up happening to the kids? I don't want them being in danger like this.” She put her head in her hands, taking a steadying breath. Agent Fowler placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Optimus hummed thoughtfully. “It is a possibility, though an unlikely one.”

“So, is a human getting medical attention on a Decepticon warship,” Ratchet countered. "Perhaps the human has intelligence or knowledge the Decepticons require him to stay alive for.” He placed a servo on his chin.

“That could be,” Fowler agreed. “We’ve seen a few Cons work with humans to get what they want in the past. Like Airachnid and M.E.C.H.” June shivered at the name. 

Optimus nodded, his tone thoughtful. “Perhaps the origin of the injuries could shed some light on the situation.” He turned to June.

June pressed a hand to her temple as she tried to think. “There were deep scratches across his side. I wasn’t allowed to remove any clothing to fully assess the injuries. I wasn’t allowed to. I only saw what was exposed. The medic—or whatever Knockout is—wouldn’t let me.”

“Scratches?” Ratchet prompted, optics narrowing.

June nodded. “And burns. Bad ones — they were the worst of it, I think, and what worries me most. I… haven’t seen anything like this before.” She looked up at Optimus, hesitance and fear plain in her eyes. “The burns had seared into his abdomen, semi-cauterizing the flesh on the sides of the injuries. The closest I could tell, they came from some sort of laser. 

The only thing that I could see doing something like this are the blasters that you and the Decepticons use. They did seem incredibly unprepared for this, too. There was blood everywhere. The two Decepticons in the room had their hands covered in it, as well as the table he was on… I don’t know how the kid survived that long before I got there.”

The Autobots waited patiently for her to continue.

“Knockout had tried to do some research before I arrived,” she explained. “He was looking up things online—human anatomy, medical procedures. At first, I thought they were going to experiment on me. But no, Knockout had tried using a welder to stop the bleeding. Some… attempt to cauterize the wounds.”

Agent Fowler grimaced. “A welder?”

June nodded. “It worked—at least until I got there. But it made the injuries worse in some areas. Still, it was clear they were trying to keep him alive.”

Ratchet tilted his head, surprise evident in his tone. “Knockout? Trying to save a human’s life with medical care? Never thought I’d see the day.”

June gave a weak smile. “Even though they were short-tempered and upset, Knockout listened to what I said and even wrote down notes. And Starscream—he was pacing the entire time. He wouldn’t leave the room.”

Fowler crossed his arms. “If Starscream was there, then this kid is definitely important. The second-in-command wouldn’t show up for just anyone.”

“Indeed,” Optimus agreed.

Fowler placed his hands on his hips. “Sounds like those blaster wounds are pretty damning evidence that the Cons are our culprits.”

“It is not out of character for the Decepticons to lash out with violence, even toward those they are allied with,” Optimus said gravely. “Even if they later regret the action.”

June bit her lip. “The kid said they didn’t hurt him. I asked. I needed to be sure, and he said it wasn’t them… Do you think he could be lying?”

“Why would a kid lie to protect the Cons?” Fowler asked, his expression skeptical.

“I don’t know,” June admitted. “But he didn’t trust me either.” 

Ratchet scoffed. “You’re telling me that while trapped on a Decepticon warship, the only other human around, he didn’t trust you?”

June nodded. “He flinched when he saw me.” She glanced at the children to ensure they weren’t listening before continuing. “Then, Starscream tried to kill me in response.”

The Autobots stiffened, worry flickering across Optimus’s usually calm field.

June raised her hands quickly. “The kid stopped him. He told Starscream to take me back. And Starscream listened. I wanted the kid to come with me so he could be safe, but he wouldn’t. He promised I’d be okay, though.” She looked up at Optimus, her eyes pleading. “I just want that kid out of there. If the Cons did that to him… we have to make sure he’s all right.”

Optimus nodded, his voice steady. “We will do everything in our power to retrieve him. But we have not been able to locate the Nemesis for months now.”

Ratchet stepped forward. “Was there anything you saw on the Nemesis that might help us track it? Anything at all?”

June shook her head. “No. I was trapped in Starscream’s chest compartment the whole time. I didn’t see anything except the medbay.”

Optimus nodded to her. “You’ve been through enough, June. Take a moment to rest. We will handle this from here.”

-

Agent Fowler helped carry June away, and Optimus turned to his long-time friend and medic. “This situation is deeply troubling,” Optimus rumbled.

Ratchet folded his arms, a frown pulling at his features. “A human in Decepticon possession—injured, yet receiving medical care? It defies all logic.”

Optimus tilted his helm. “The Decepticons have never prioritized human life before. Starscream’s involvement only deepens the mystery. If the child’s injuries resulted from internal Decepticon conflict, Starscream would have little reason to keep him alive, let alone seek medical attention for him.”

Ratchet paced, his servos clenching briefly before releasing. “Unless it was Starscream himself that injured him, and he was attempting to rectify the mistake before he got in trouble. Fear of punishment from Megatron? The child must be valuable to them in some way—information, perhaps, or leverage. Whatever it is, it must be significant.”

Optimus’s optics narrowed in thought. “That is a possibility. But in the instance that the Decepticons were not responsible for the injuries, the question remains: who was?”

Ratchet exhaled, a sharp hiss escaping his vents. “Whoever it was didn’t hold back. Blaster burns, deep lacerations. From the sounds of it, it’s a miracle the kid survived long enough for June to step in. And yet…” His frown deepened. “The boy claimed the Decepticons didn’t hurt him but flinched when June approached. For him to react that way to a human, of all things… It suggests something deeper we’re not seeing yet.”

Optimus straightened. “Whatever the circumstances, we cannot leave a child in Decepticon custody. His safety—and the potential implications of his presence aboard the Nemesis—demand our attention.”

Ratchet nodded grimly. “Agreed. But without any way to locate the Nemesis...”

“We will find it,” Optimus said firmly. “Whatever it takes.”

---

Find more here: Tumblr Master List

[yes-these-obsessions-are-healthy]

Veilguard gave us the reason why Solas, a man who seemed so distrustful of despots and tyrants, was yet so skeptical of an Inquisitor who hinted at sharing power.

It's because he had to deal with the oligarchy that was the Evanuris. The idea of 'sharing power' is naive and pointless to him if there is no one at the helm giving the final say because it either devolves into stalemates, or someone with the biggest personality comes to monopolize the power regardless, i.e. Elgar'nan. If there is to be power held by someone, Solas would prefer a single ruler who could lead with wisdom and prudence, who is able to listen and use their judgement to filter good and bad information (which is what Wisdom does), to preside as a referee or an overseer of sorts to make sure everything is in working order and to ensure everyone is playing nice to step in and correct only when it is needed.

This is why when he asks you what you will do in the aftermath of What Pride Had Wrought, he disapproves when you say "I will rely on our allies". Assuming he has faith in your abilities to lead, he disagrees with this sentiment. You have shown yourself capable of handling the power that has been given to you. To divvy up your power out of some reflexively good-natured desire for the sake of democracy would prove disastrous. The more cooks in the kitchen, the more different agendas and personalities that need to be juggled, the more discordant that the operation becomes because it is far easier for power to be effective when you have a single accountable, capable person who has the final say.

Not only that, but given the allies that the Inquisitor does pick up, it's a nice gesture that would be squandered on people who didn't have enough sense to put aside their differences and work together without being strong-armed or getting their asses saved. It's a tiny drop of ubermensch, "great man theory" tempered with "let's be absolutely real here. Why would you ruin a good thing you have going? Why switch up what's working? To avoid hurting peoples' feelings? To make them feel included? You're a good friend/ma'vhenan but please don't be stupid about this."

And then you have this banter between Solas and Vivienne

Solas is skirting around the fact he is an ancient elf (though of course he is not omniscient) but in his ideal state of the world he would be omniscient + immortal and would be the arbiter to punish wrong doers. He would not allow vigilantes this power because in this thought experiment he has the most sound judgment. Wisdom is dipping a bit into Pride here, Pride and the mind of a man who believes he has the wherewithal to judge a person fairly.

But then, ho ho, you get THIS banter with them

If there is anything Solas hates, it's naked ambition and overestimation of one's abilities (yes this is hypocritical). To Solas, Vivienne is undeserving of this political power she is casually dropping her interest in pursuing because from his perspective she has done nothing substantial to help mages. For Solas, helping mages would be securing their freedom and place in general society. For Vivienne, it's keeping them sequestered so they aren't hunted down by superstitious magic-fearing Andrastians and can be kept monitored for possible abominations. Solas sees Vivienne as someone who only wants power to play her little political games in court and become someone who is eminent and powerful for herself chiefly. If mages benefit, it is coincidental or an afterthought, or so he predicts for her.

He prefers blatant and honest declarations of activism, because then someone can be measured by their actions thereafter and graded based on how they've lived up to them. Vivienne going "Well others have failed, I could try my hand at it" pisses Solas off because it comes off as so flippant to him. He takes conversations about power and politics very seriously, as you can tell, and with his past it's understandable given how he had to fight millennia-long rebellion dealing with the Evanuris and then walked through how many dreams and memories of how many kingdoms and civilizations and villages and towns and cities crumbling because of power struggles and ill-fitted rulers seeking only the position while eschewing the responsibilities it came with.

[cassieopeauh]

What is this feeling?

Pairings: Elphaba x Reader x Galinda

Summary: You are in love with the two most well known girls at Shizz. They both love you, but loathe each other and loathe that the other loves you. They try to steal you from each other and win you over. Intercourse is had. Feelings are hurt. Everything works out in the end.

Word count: 5100

Warnings: SMUT⚠️, like so so so much smut ya’ll. Porn with some plot. Eating out. Fingering. Thigh riding. Grinding. Slight dry humping. Bra used as gag. Semi public sex. Y/n is lowkey a bop. Brief dom/sub dynamics (the roles are reversed a few times cause y/n is written as a switch) brief hate sex. Angst. Feelings are hurt. Apologies are said. Based off movie knowledge only. They all make up and get together in the end. I think that’s everything.

A/n: Galinda and Elphaba are probably a bit ooc in this srry. I’ve only watched the movie but have been listening to the musical soundtrack for years. Plz don’t roast me if I got some of the stuff about shizz wrong 😢.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————

“What is this feeling so sudden and new?” Galinda whispers to herself as she watches you below from her shared dormitory balcony.

She shifts her body so her head lays up her arms which lay atop the stone wall surrounding the balcony, as she dramatically sighs and continues to dreamily look at you from above.

Her usually confident and cocky persona felt like it crumbled to pieces whenever she was around you, leaving her uncharacteristically awkward and nervous. Vulnerable. Thus, to her, confessing to you seemed out of the question.

She had tried to wish away these pesky feelings, but to no avail. She had fallen hard.

She watched as you walked over and struck up a conversation with her irritating roommate. Oz, you were so much more kind than her. You had been going out of your way for the last week to befriend the girl because you saw the unjust treatment of her and knew it was undeserved. The same girl that has been nothing but a thorn in her side since they were unfairly roomed together.

Meticulously manicured nails scraped against the concrete beneath her grasp in deep jealousy, as she watched you and Elphaba’s conversation become a bit “too friendly” for her liking. She felt like she was going to scream if this kept up!

“It’s not fair! I am ten times more perfect in every way than that little goth prude! Why does she get first dibs on everything I deserve?” She said aloud to no one. Theatrically slumping down behind the balcony wall and draping her arm over her face.

If overcoming her fears of confessing to be with the one person who had made her feel a true connection with meant keeping her little rival from having what she wanted…

She made up mind right then. She was going to push aside her fears, put on a confident mask, and use her natural charm to snatch you away from Elphaba.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————

“I felt it the moment I laid eyes on you.” Elphaba was never one to want much, never one to think herself attractive or desirable from the perspective of others, but you had brought out a part of herself she thought she had buried along with all her other wishes.

You were both still new to each other only having been friends for a few weeks, but Elphaba now having understood her feelings saw no reason to wait any longer. Always one to never hold back when it came to speaking her mind, despite fear of rejection, she asked you to accompany her to a secluded part of Shizz so she could communicate her feelings to you.

“I don’t know what to say…” you replied.

It wasn’t that you weren’t overcome with a sense of giddiness whenever you were around her. It was that while having feelings for Elphaba, you had also been harboring the same kind of feelings for your other gorgeous friend Galinda.

You were also well aware of your two love interests' rivalry, knowing no that if you were to start a relationship with Elphaba, the pink obsessed blonde would take it as an act of betrayal.

But at the same time you couldn’t bare to turn down Elphaba, with how much you liked her and knowing her deeply rooted insecurities and how much she must have overcome just to confess to you.

You were fucked either way.

“I… I need time to think… please don’t take it the wrong way, I like you! I do..I just… it’s complicated.” Your heart withered at the sight of Elphaba in front of you putting on a brave face and masking her disappointment. Concealing her feelings and pretending she doesn’t care what people thought of her was her specialty.

“I… understand…….I think it’s best I go now.” Elphaba cast her head downwards as she didn’t want you or anyone to catch a glimpse of the newly forming barley concealed tears. She was so stupid to think you could reciprocate her feelings.

“Elphaba wait!” You called after her, but she carried on striding away from you. What could you say to her anyways? Nothing you could say could soothe the black hair girl’s pain of rejection. It wasn’t even a full rejection! Oh Oz why did you say that! Why does liking more than one person have to be so complicated!

Little had you known a certain blonde haired socialite had followed behind you and Elphaba after overhearing the ravenette asking you to follow her somewhere more private. That same girl had eavesdropped on conversation from behind a stone pillar a safe distance away.

She was now more determined than ever to win you over in light of her now confirmed suspicions of Elphaba having a crush on you as well.

Her heart initially felt like it had broken upon hearing you say you liked her back, and then mended itself at hearing you half reject her. Giving her hope for a chance. She was usually so confident, knowing what she wanted and taking it. That half a second of heartbreak and vulnerability was enough to let her know not having you was simply not an option.

——————————————————————

“What is this? What did you do!” Elphaba’s morning routine was immediately halted as she stepped out of bed at the sight of a wall of pink decor, suitcases, lamps, bags, etc.

“Oh that? I’m simply making room. I’m having y/n over for a girls day after our plans for today. Oh and of course I had to hide your hideously plain side of the room.” Galinda hadn’t even bothered to raise her head to look in her roommates direction as she spoke to her. To busy going through the steps of her complex morning hair routine.

“What? Why would y/n be coming over here? You’re much too stuck up for her to willingly be around.” Elphaba said. Annoyance clear in her voice. The mention of you had caught her off guard though, especially since the two of you hadn’t talked since that mortifying confession.

“I’ll have you know y/n and I are actually friends. And I’m not stuck up, you only happen to think so because you’re the bottom rung of the popularity ladder! You’re simply jealous of the fact y/n would rather be friends with someone perfect like me!!” Elphaba didn’t need to see her face as she could practically hear the girl's smug look in her voice.

Elphaba felt that familiar tingling sensation of the magic building up inside her at Galinda’s harsh words. Words that were unusually cruel for the girl who claimed to be ���oh so good’. Words born out jealousy and insecurity for the affections she held for y/n.

Just as Elphaba felt like a burst of magic might leave her and crack a second balcony window, a set of four knocks came from the dorm door with the many carved details and brass trim.

A glance between them. One of masked anger and one of feigned innocence with a smugness behind it. Galinda got up to open the door.

“Y/n hiiiii!!!! I’m ever so glad you could make it! Let me show you in!” The blonde took you by the hand and brought you in, closing the door behind her.

“Oh and I don’t believe you’ve met my roommate! This is Elph-“ She started with faux politeness. An attempt at making things more awkward between the two girls in front of her and then whisking you away infront of her rival in a show of pettiness.

“Oh, we’ve met…” You trailed off. Sheepishly avoiding the ravenette’s gaze.

“Yes… we have…” Elphaba suddenly felt very exposed, awkwardly standing. The floor had suddenly become very interesting.

“Oh well I’m so glad that my very best friend and my roomate already know each other! Well, we better be going now, come along now sweetness!” Galinda threw a not so inconspicuous wink your way, much to the bewilderment and then jealousy of Elphaba, still stood in her nightgown.

“Oh! Uh…Alright! Coming!” You were thrown off balance by the sudden use of a pet name only to come to and scamper after the pink figure fading down the hall. Not before casting one last longing glance at Elphaba. Both of you shared a look before you too disappeared down the hallway.

As Elphaba closed the door shut the sound of a window pane breaking shot through the silence you left her in. A magical manifestation of her jealousy and sadness.

——————————————————————

*Thud*

Galinda, empowered by her regained confidence, pinned you up against the empty classroom door. Both her hand on your waist as she looked down at you with blown out pupils and unsteady breath.

“Oh… y/n, I know this must be a sudden shock but I positively just couldn’t resist anymore!” She rubbed her thumb across you hip where her hand laid as her eyes flickered between you eyes and your lips. You stayed frozen between want for the girl in front of you and want for the girl you had left in her dorm.

“I do wish you feel the same… I haven’t felt like this about anyone… a few flings here and there, yes… but I really care for you… I… feel vulnerable.. around you.” You could see the sincerity in her eyes as Galinda watched for you with baited breath.

“I… I feel the same way, b-“ Galinda cut you off with a hungry kiss, her brain only having registered your words of reciprocated feelings

Your brain suddenly feeling like mush in the midst of Galinda’s onslaught of heavy open mouthed kisses. Your hands wandered up to grasp the back of her head, tangling in her golden curls. You completely forgot what you were even going to say.

The taste of her lip gloss mixing with your own, while Galinda nipped at your bottom lip. Per usual, Galinda got her way, as you opened your mouth for her to explore. Galinda wasted no time.

The two of you parted momentarily. A string of saliva connecting your mouths, both of you panting, before the blonde dove right back in. Simultaneously lifting her leg slightly so her knee was wedged up against your core. You made a noise that was instantly swallowed up by the girl pinning you to the door.

“Is this okay?” She asked, seemingly just now remembering her manners.

“Yes… please don’t stop.” The blonde went back for another kiss before her mouth started traveling along your jawline and then to your neck. Your head turned sideways and up to give her better access. You had lightly started to grind down on her leg that was in between yours.

Galinda had started to hastily mark you, not caring if anyone saw it on you. (Maybe hoping a certain someone would see it). As she worked her way down to your clavicle her hand started to unbutton your shirt. Helping her shed your outer clothes and being left in your bra, she took a moment to admire you.

“You’re beautiful..” She said as she unashamedly raked her eyes up your exposed skin up towards your face. Giving you a gentle kiss this time. Your hands cupping her face, while her hands reached around your back to unclasp your bra, dropping it to the floor.

Hands began to grasp and fervently pull at your breasts as the intensity of the kiss came back once more. All noises being lost to the blonde in front of you.

Some of the fog left your mind as the sounds of someone walking outside the door and down the hall brought you back to reality.

“Wait.. *pant* someone might come in..” A slight look of fear graced your features. Surely you would be expelled for this kind of behavior.

Galinda only smirked in reply. She held you face with one hand, flicking the deadbolt on the door with the other.

“Guess we’ll just have to be quiet then” Pulling you from the door to the mahogany teachers desk in the center of the room.

She hopped up on the desk and slightly leaned back. Patting her thigh while looking at you expectantly, you complied. Climbing up and straddling her thigh you couldn’t help but wish Galinda was a little more exposed, like you were.

Settling down with your clothed core pressed against her thigh, you gave just the slightest of pouts as you reached up and gently tugged at her top while locking eyes with her.

She let out a breath chuckle.

“Oh baby… you want this off?” She watched as you nodded and then guided your hands to unbutton her blouse and revealed her bra underneath.

Your eyes hungrily swept over pink silk that barely concealed hard nipples. Your hot breath fanning down on her now mostly exposed chest. Once again taking the lead, she guided your hands to her back, where you unclasped her bra. Tossing it aside.

“Wow…” was all you managed to get out, making her lightly giggle. You looked at her, and after receiving a small nod, you experimentally ran your hands over her breasts. Thumbs stopping over her nipping and gently rubbing.

She let out a quiet moan which encouraged you to continue. Her noises slowly building up in their frequency. She then took control again by leaning forward and capturing you in a kiss and bringing your hand to her face.

“Let’s get you out of this skirt…” she smiled at you. You stood up, putting on a little show for her, as you removed your skirt, undergarments, and shoes. Giving her a little spin and then climbing back to your original position.

“There we are… now.. take what you need sweetness.” Her words commanded you to start slowly grinding your now unclothed core against her thigh. Her hands went to guide you by your waist, as you held onto her shoulders for support.

“Oh…Oh my..” your breathing picked up as Galinda urged you into a faster pace. Moving her hips back and forth to meet you halfway. Her leg by now being soaked in your arousal.

“Oh.. that’s right sweetheart…keep going..” Galinda praised you as you grinded down harder. Clit dragging across milky white thighs. That feeling of heat starting to build up more and more in your lower area.

Panting now, as your noises started to grow, Galinda connected your mouth to keep the noise to a minimum so no one would hear. Your little whines and moans being muffled by pink lips.

What felt like too soon, you had started to get close. The pink clad girl could tell by the way your hips started stuttering in their pace.

“Come on sweetness… come for me..” Galinda panted, getting worked up just from the sight of you getting off on her thigh.

Her words seemed to help push you over the edge, as you came. A loud whine escaping your lips. Riding out your orgasm for a few seconds before slumping into Galinda. Both your bare breasts pushed against each other. Your head resting on her shoulder, while her fingers rubbed up your back and in your hair and gave tiny little kisses to your neck.

“You did so well… you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to see you like that.” The blonde whispered in your ear, causing good bumps to appear along your nape in her wake.

“I’ve wanted you for a long time as well…” you said while catching your breath.

You stayed in that position of embrace. Waiting for you to recover from your exertion.

After a minute, you started to feel Galinda squirming a bit below you. You sat back so you could look at her.

“Do you want me to..?” You said.

“Please.” She replied.

You slowly peeled yourself away from her and slightly sat back. Hands resting on her thighs, feeling the slick from where you were a minute ago.

You tugged at her last remaining garments, as she helped by maneuvering herself in order to remove her skirt and underwear. Eyes raking over her. Taking in every aspect.

Leaning in and giving her a quick peck on the lips before trailing kisses down her neck. Then to her sternum. Next, her navel. Then finally reaching the place where she needed you most, you glanced up to her eyes once more before shifting your mouth forwards.

She let out a breathy moan as your tongue made contact with her slick. You took a couple of long licks before focusing on her clit. She tasted sweet. Your hands found their places around her upper thighs

Your movements continued to coax airy whines and moans from her. These only spurred you on more. Now deciding to add one finger in the mix, you experimentally poked your right ring finger at her entrance. That elicited a slightly louder moan. Heat pooled in your stomach at that.

You slowly started pumping your one finger in and out of her core while still continuing to lick at her clit. Galinda’s hands were suddenly in your hair, pushing you further into her and groaning.

Deciding to add another finger, you slipped a second one into your rhythm. Stretching her out further. After a particularly loud moan though, you stopped your movements which in turn brought out a whine and a pout from Galdinda.

“Why… *pant* why’d you stop?” She questioned. Not a fan of being teased. You brought your head up to meet her gaze.

“I’m sorry, you were being a bit too loud. Someone might hear us. Here… this should solve the problem.” You took hold of her previously discarded silk bra and brought it up to her face.

“Are you okay with this..? Being.. um… gagged I mean..?” Galinda’s pout was replaced by a smirk and a little laugh at your sudden shyness. She thought it was adorable.

“Of course, now I can be as loud as I want. To show you how you make me feel.” She grinned and took hold of the bra you held out to her. Clamping her teeth around it and leaning back to give you access once more.

You returned to your previous position and activities. Speeding up to get her back to where she was. You heard her muffled noises, much more frequent and high pitched. It was clear she had been holding back a bit before as to not be heard and subsequently caught.

Her hand returned to the back of your head as she grinded her hips against you. Getting closer, her grip tightened and her hips started to fervently rut and buck up into you.

With one last drawn out muffled whine from her, you felt her come on your hand. Feeling her walls flutter around your fingers, you helped her ride it out before pulling away. Crawling up to her once more, you sucked her juices off your fingers before pulling the bra out of her mouth to bring her into an embrace as she had done for you. Letting her rest.

Once she had recovered, she leant back to pull you into another kiss. This one was slow and full of love. Parting to breathe you both only paused for a second before going back in for another.

No words needed. Only the moment.

——————————————————————

A set of four knocks sounded on the intricate door.

“Galinda’s not here!” Elphaba called out to who she assumed was one of her roommate's little henchmen. Galinda had left for the afternoon to meet a secret importer for a new collection of dresses she was sneaking into Shizz.

When the set of knocks continued after Elphaba had called out, she sat up from her study material, and strode over to the door to open it.

“I told you she’s not he-…” Elphaba was greeted with the sight of your face. Holding a small sheepish smile.

“Hi… I was hoping we could talk?” You looked up at her through your lashes with baited breath. Hoping you hadn’t ruined things with her.

“I thought you’d be out with Galinda. Seems you two are never apart these days.” She replied with a displeased look on her face. She was no fool. She knew there was likely something going on between her roommate and you.

It was true though. Galinda had insisted you stayed glued to her side since your “girls day out”. Practically dragging you along on a leash. Not that you minded being around her all the time, but it left you no time to resolve things between you and Elphaba.

“I… I wanted to come and apologize for not speaking to you since… last week.” You guiltily looked away. You had been rather horrible to her for not speaking to her. And sleeping with her roommate who she loathed.

“Go on.” Elphaba crossed her arms. Giving you a blank face.

“Well… I’m ever so sorry for not talking to you. I like you, I really do! It’s just… I also like someone else and if I were to be with you it would hurt them. Though I see that the opposite has happened and I’ve hurt you instead.” You tried to keep your composure while you apologized, but it was clear that your eyes were becoming watery.

“Galinda…” Elphaba stated what was already known. The sound of defeat in her voice. Her posture sulked downward.

Your eyes widened as you took a few steps toward her.

“Oh no! Please you must believe me that I never wished to hurt you! I just-… I want to be with both of you! But I know that’s not possible because you two hate each other and I wish her friends weren’t so cruel to you and it’s all so complicat-!” You were cut off by green lips silencing your rambling.

She pulled back. Tears in her eyes as you looked on with shock on your face.

“Please, I’ve never been one to want anything. I shouldn’t let myself want anything. But I just want you. You hurt me, I can’t forget that, but I can’t stand that she has you. Please just be with me… even if it’s just for this moment…” Her words were heartbreaking. She had endured more than her fair share. Given so much, yet received so little.

“Anything you want…” You gently reached up and caressed her face. Leaning in and connecting your lips and a soft and tender kiss. Tasting salty tears from where they had fallen from her emerald eyes.

Growing more confident, Elphaba brought you both inside the dorm and shut the door with one hand. All while never leaving your mouth.

What started out as slow and emotional had started to become more passionate. Hands sliding up to tangle in hair. Being pulled closer by the waist.

Your hand moving down to tug at her button up.

“Would you let me take care of you?” Your voice barely above a whisper. Waiting for permission.

“I’ve.. I’ve never…because of my greenness… no one’s ever…” Elphaba nervously sputtered out.

“That’s alright… if you want me to, I can lead. All you have to do is let me take care of you. You deserve it Elphie…” You said as you looked into her eyes.

“Okay… please just know… I am green everywhere…” She looked so vulnerable at that moment. Fear of rejection due to her complexion having been hardwired into her brain.

“I don’t care about that, Elphie. I think you’re truly beautiful. All over, inside and out.” You said with a smile of reassurance. And with a small smile and nod in return, you went ahead.

Careful fingers danced their way from one button to the next before pulling the white shirt over her shoulders and down her arms.

She gasped at the foreign sensation of fingers ghosting over her black bra covered nipples. Hands coming to rest on your waist.

“Let’s get you somewhere where you can relax, pretty lady.” You giggled slightly at the evident blushing at your use of a pet name. Guiding her over to her bed. Laying her down on her back with you sitting in between her legs.

“What now?” Elphaba asked, not knowing what to do or what exactly came next.

“Next, I’m going to get you ready. And then I was going to use my hands. Are you okay with that Elphie?” You watched for her response. Making sure to give her plenty of warning and above all ensure her comfort and enjoyment and give her room to say no.

“I trust you…” Her eyes conveyed the same thing she said. Her hand reached for yours to hold.

A small smile graced your features as you leant forwards to kiss her. Hands dragging along exposed collarbones until they reached the bra clasp and undid it. Sliding it off through her arms.

Hands started to gently grope at her bare breasts as your hips slowly pushed forwards into Elphaba’s to add pressure.

“Mmff!” The girl below you’s moan was muffled by your mouth on hers. She held your waist. You started to slowly grind into her. The both of you getting worked up.

Continuing your movements while slightly changing the rhythm now and then. You watched as the girl beneath you slowly relaxed.

When you thought you had made her wet enough, your grinding ceased and you moved over to straddle one of legs to make room around her core.

Breaking apart while one of your hands trailed up underneath the girl's long skirt. You once again made sure.

“Is this okay?” The words felt familiar to your ears..

“Please.” So did hers.

Reaching her undergarments, you felt around to find the seam. Your fingers finally finding purchase around them as you pulled them down and over her legs. Watching the string of arousal that attached to it as you tossed them aside.

“You’re so wet… that’s good.” Looking up to meet her blown out pupils.

You moved so you were laying over top of her while keeping your hand around her core so you could make out with her to ease the tension.

Your middle and ring finger trailed up and down her slit. Collecting the slick and rubbing it around on your fingers.

Next, you gave her clit a gentle rub, eliciting a whine from the ravenette. You continued to rub and then press down with your thumb, while your other fingers circled around her entrance.

Finally, you stuck a single finger into her. Her body reacted by bucking up. You were getting riled up just watching her.

“Nngg, t-that’s, so so good.” Elphaba’s usually reserved nature was coming undone.

You added another finger and sped up the pace. Thrusting them up into her while letting the back of your palm rub her clit.

“Good girl… that’s it.” You praised her. Elphaba’s noises were becoming more frequent. You could tell she was getting closer by the way her walls were gripping your fingers, trying to suck them back in.

Speeding up your movements and then latching onto one of her nipples was enough for the witch to climax.

Her loud moan came with the fluttering of her walls. Suddenly, for just a few seconds, the both of you were floating, before gently landing back down on the mattress. She had unknowingly used her magic.

Her pants slowly subsided. After pulling your hand away and licking it clean, you trailed kisses from her chest to her face, where you peppered light kisses around her mouth.

“You did so well… you’re so beautiful Elphie…” you whispered into her ear. Rubbing her shoulder then going to nuzzle into her neck.

Elphaba, still coming down from her high, wrapped her arms around your back, and planted a kiss on your head.

“Do… would you like.. a turn..?” She slowly said, unsure of her words.

“No, but thank you for offering, sweet girl.” She could feel you smile into her neck.

“I just wanted to show you how much I care for you. You don’t have to give anything. You deserve all the pampering in the world.” Your genuine words brought liquid emotion to the girl with the emerald eyes.

She pulled you closer. No more words needed. Just the moment.

——————————————————————

You were screwed.

In the last few weeks, the two girls you had slept with rivalry had only grown since you had seen both of them. Both of them going out of their way to try and best the other to get closer to you.

They openly loathed each other, no more fake politeness or toleration. Simple unadulterated loathing.

Galinda would sweep you away from Elphaba to sit with her and her friends at lunch. Then Elphaba would retaliate by making sure you sat next to only her during class.

All the back and forth and the complicated feelings was making your head spin.

Currently you were on your way to the two girls' dorm to return study notes Elphaba and graciously lent you.

As you approached the wooden door, knocked, then opened it halfway, you stopped. What were those… noises… you were hearing? They sounded… angry? But also…… oh. Oh.

You pushed the door open the rest of the way and froze.

Galinda and Elphaba. The two girls who swore loathed each other. We’re in bed together. Naked.

Phrases like, “I hate you so much, ohhh!” And “I hate you m-more, she doesn’t *pant* deserve you. Ahh!”.

…

What the fu-

*thud*

Out of shock, you had dropped the heavy notebook you were carrying. Both girls let out a little shriek and sprung apart as though they had burned one another.

“Um… i-I…. Uhhhhh…. Glad you two aren’t fighting anymore……???” You nervously stated. Feeling very awkward at interrupting what was happening between them. Though at the same time ecstatic that they were finally getting along in their own weird way.

“Y/n!” Both of them said at the same time. They glanced at each other and then back to you. Your cheeks flushed and eyes looking anywhere but them. Everything was quiet and still.

….

“Well…. You might as well get over here and help.” Galinda’s unwavering confidence had come back into play as scootched over and patted the empty bed space next to her.

“G-Galinda!” Elphaba stated in shock at her roommates sexual confidence in adding a third.

Both looked at you and waited for a response.

“Uhm…. O.. okay” You replied quietly, still embarrassed.

You closed the door and walked over Galinda’s king sized bed.

You let out a help as Galinda yanked you into bed and into a fiery kiss. Her giggles reverberated through the room. Elphaba laying beside you so she could trail kisses along your neck.

Your head was reeling under the sensual onslaught from the two girls.

This was exactly what you wanted. Your girl problem dilemma was over. They both liked you, you liked them, and now they liked each other. This could really work out.

Your heart's deepest desire was fulfilled .

[dissociation-station123]

Chapter 3: We are both Pretty Messed Up

LADS: Sylus X Reader

Warning: Angst-Anxiety-Delusion

~

“Go to dinner with me.” Sylus interrupts your current interrogation over how he was so easily able to lead you to your front door. You assume that after three weeks of the same question he was looking for a way to avoid an answer once again.

The bartender gasps at his request, a sly smile now plastered on her face. “Sylus…” You warn him as you sip on your drink, your eyes scrutinize his every expression And body movement. He sits as regally as ever giving nothing away.

You let out an aggravated breath and look at the surprised and exuberant woman, shaking your head. She simply giggles and skips away to take another order.

“Seriously! I know a great place downtown. Come on Y/N…” Those ruby orbs challenge you. He never quite gives you direct replies to any query you ask. It would be a lie to say it wasn’t driving you a bit mad.

“What’s wrong with the bar?” You counter in frustration. You were already out of your comfort zone associating with this man. The idea of going to an unfamiliar place was down right worrying. Sylus clicks his teeth in defiance.

“Nothing, but this is your turf. If we want to continue being friends, shouldn't you amuse me just a bit?” He leans closer, his shoulder bumping yours playfully. “Hmmm…” his breath tickles your ear and you pull away as heat rises to your cheeks.

“We don’t have to be friends. You're free to do as you like.” You snap back rolling your eyes. “I have no desire to entertain you.” Part of that was a lie. Now that this man has sauntered into your life, every time you walk through these doors you automatically seek him out. Yet letting people in has always been a difficult task. You associate closeness with a deep pain that still hasn’t quite faded yet.

“It is just dinner sweetie. Why so precautious?” His tone is a bit condescending. You glare in his direction but you have come to realize he enjoys your aggravation, your mood swings.

“Says the man who refuses to tell me anything about himself.” You stick to your position and he chuckles. Two more drinks were laid in front of you.

“I could say the same about you.” Sylus says lightly but his gaze is intense. Both of you wanting companionship without truly conversing leaves your banter tense at times. Neither one of you is willing to break. “What do I have to do?” He asks, sounding almost genuine.

You don’t respond right away. You were not sure that there was really anything he could do to convince you. You were set in your ways and a creature of habit. Your youth you spent time masking in social events to come home burnt out and exhausted. Now that you were older it was much easier to avoid them.

“I’ll pay…” He attempts to sweeten the deal. Seeing you still lost in thought he snaps his finger in your face, you scowl. “Don’t make me beg darling. It’s degrading.” You deadpan and then burst into laughter at his words. You try and imagine the great Sylus pleading to anyone, it seems ridiculous.

“Fine.” You say and he grins widely. He promises to text you the information and make time. Though you were nervous that strange sense of excitement presented itself once again.

~

Your headphones shielded you from the copious amount of noise heard around you, office gossip and chatter. You are zoned in on the spreadsheet in front of you while your mind visualizes scenarios based on what song played next. You are so absorbed in your work that you nearly flew out of your chair when the coworker in front of you waves their hand from over the cubicle.

“You startle so easily.” They laugh amused by your reaction. Not realizing that your life experience has caused you to tread more carefully in the world. You put on your best friendly smile and take out your earbuds.

“I was wondering if you could stay a bit late again. I wasn’t able to finish up a few reports but my daughter has practice.” She always did this to you on Friday afternoons. You usually did not mind. It wasn’t like you didn’t get paid extra but this time was different.

You try your best apologetic expression, “I’m really sorry I actually have dinner plans today.” You explain and are surprised when her eyes widen in shock. The frenzied typing and jumbled disconnected conversations halt as others in your department hear what you just said.

You shrink back a bit as all the attention is fixated on you. The woman puts up her arms, “It’s no problem Y/N. You always help me out. You have…”

She is unable to finish her sentence because your boss comes bounding out excitedly, towards you from her office. “Fred just told me you had plans this evening via messenger!”

You look around and everyone seems to have moved closer to your area. Their concentration centered on your next words. “Yeah… it’s not a big deal. Just dinner with a friend. Well I don’t even know if I’d call him that yet.”

“Him?!?” Your boss claps and you wish for a sink hole to swallow you whole, any form of escape. “Where are you going?” She buzzes with energy, more enthusiastic about this than you could ever be.

“Some steak place on Fifth St.” You felt obligated to provide answers. All you wanted to do was turn around and continue working. Yet you could sense that none of your colleagues had ill intentions, they were just surprised the office hermit had actual plans on a Friday.

“That place is so nice! He must really like you.” Your boss continues and another colleague interrupts, “A casual dinner at that place is crazy. I took my wife there for our fifteenth anniversary and almost had a heart attack when the bill arrived. He REALLY likes you.”

“No I don’t think…” You feel heat rush to your cheeks. You avoid eye contact. “Is it really that fancy? I had never heard of it.” You mumble and the group laughs.

“Yes! White table clothes on the tables and special utensils.” Another person shouts. You suddenly get anxious, Sylus was planning on picking you up since you worked close by the restaurant. You look down at your worn out dress pants and top.

Your boss elbows the person beside her to shut them up. “You always look great. I can see you second guessing yourself.” You look up at her and sigh. “Alright everyone back to work!!” She makes a commotion to shoo everyone back to their desk. Then lean next to you. “You are a great person. You deserve this.” You give her a small smile and nod, even as you doubt her words.

~

The last few minutes you recieve a text message from Sylus, informing you he is parked up front. You quickly finish the rest of your work and feel eyes on you as you sign out and collect your things. “Is he here?!” The woman in front of you stands and you nod.

“Have a great weekend Y/N.” She gushes and you attempt to hide your groan as you nod. Your nonchalance does not offend her as she gives you a thumbs up. You wish everyone else a good weekend as you leave for the day. Everyone enthusiastically returns the gesture.

As you ride down the elevator panic begins to settle in your chest. It had been quite a while since you went out to eat. The closest is picking up food at the convenience store by your house. Familiarity makes you feel comforted each time you walk through those automatic doors. But this restaurant you have never visited so it would be a completely new experience. Your heart raced in your chest as the doors dinged open. You felt pathetic, surely when you were younger just going to a restaurant did not make you feel so exhausted….

You swallow anxiously and cling to your bag tighter as you make your way out the large glass door of the entrance to your office. The receptionist wishes you well and you do the same. Your footsteps feel heavier with each step.

You look around to find him and it was not a difficult task. A luxury black Audi stands out amongst the average vehicles, sleek and sophisticated. Leaning against the passenger door aloof and unbothered Sylus scans the area. When his red eyes meet your own, that fox-like grin greets you. You wave dramatically causing him to chuckle as he mimics your gesture.

“Why do you look like you have seen a ghost?” He questions when you're closer. “Did something happen at work?” That deep velvety tone, doesn’t reassure you like usual.

“My coworkers kind of swarmed me when I told them I had plans today.” You say rolling your eyes. Another hearty laugh escapes his lips.

“Is that why they are all crowded by the window?” He questions and you let out an audible sigh. You slowly turn your gaze towards the building. Sure enough, your entire department was squished against the glass to get a view of the man taking you out. “That’s real cute.” He gives them a wave and they all return it.

“Just get in the damn car.” You say harshly and he looks down at you challenging your aggression. “Please…” you add a bit more desperately. He studies you for a second then opens the door. You scurry inside, the smell of leather and his aftershave strong.

Everything was a bit too much at the moment your mind was overwhelmed. You fidget with your hands in an attempt to calm down. You feel him enter and his gaze on you but your focus is on the floorboards. His large hand reaches out to take yours but you shake your head and he quickly retracts them.

Sylus does not respond, he starts the car and pulls out of the parking space. The silence between you this time felt oppressive. You weren’t able to speak, even though you wanted to apologize. You were in an overstimulated state brought on by the events of the afternoon. Surely after such a display Sylus would want nothing to do with you and you wouldn’t blame him.

As you were trapped in your own mind, you felt a cool breeze hit your face. He must have rolled down the window slightly. Your eyes close on instinct as you took in a breath. Your heart is finally slowing to a normal pace, the smells not so overpowering.

You manage to look out the window and frown. “Where are we going? We passed the restaurant.” You ask in curiosity.

“I didn’t really feel in the mood for a fancy steak dinner. So change of plans.” Sylus says with a cool demeanor, something you could never achieve. You sit back and strangely enough you feel yourself relaxing the rest of the drive, you felt you could trust him. If he wanted to harm you he had plenty of opportunity previously.

~

You raise your eyebrow at him when he pulls into the parking lot of an arcade. Not just any arcade, it was charming and sweet. The building is decorated with promotional signs of an adorable cat mascot. Children and couples walk in and out full of cheerful chatter.

Sylus is as stoic and mysterious as ever, as he places the car in park. Yet when he unfastens his seatbelt he glances at you with a look that tells you he isn’t interested in explanations. You respect his unspoken request and follow him out of the car.

As you watched Sylus casually speaks with the token clerk, a bright friendly smile on his handsome face, you were amazed by his ability to interact with anyone with ease. It was the opposite to how you first met him, unwilling to converse as he sulked at the bar.

You stood off in a corner amused by how much he stuck out amongst the average populace, like yourself. You blended into the crowd but he could never. He towers over most, all lean muscle visible in his tight designer sweater. You cringe at what that must have cost him. You observe how others eyes are drawn to him with no effort.

He looks over at you and shakes a plastic pink cup with tokens and you can’t help letting a laugh escape from your lips. You follow as he leads you, as if he has taken this path many times before.

“Sylus!” A worker shouts his name as you both walk past, aware of who he is. Sylus waves with a charming expression but does not stop to talk. Glancing over his shoulder to make sure you are still there. You want to question him but based on mannerism earlier you know he was not ready.

“My nemesis.” He proclaims when you reach a row of claw machines, filled with varying stuffed animals. “Are you any good at these?” He questions handing you a token.

You don’t want to bring down the mood even more than you already have. “I’ve never tried.” You answer simply as you run your thumb across the cheap coins surface.

He doesn’t question you but motions for you to play. “These things are a scam.” You mutter but push the token in, the machine lights up and begins playing an upbeat tune.

Sylus chuckles, “I think that’s just an excuse for when you fail, miserably sweetie.” You scowl at him which makes him grin wider. “First step is deciding your victim.” He points to the array of stuffed toys.

As you stare at the options nothing really stood out to you, you didn't really have a preference. “Isn’t this a bit childish Sylus.” You counter and he scoffs. You scold yourself again, using a term your parents always used against you even when you were a child.

Then you spot it, in the corner laying on its side, a teal t rex with a goofy grin. Before he could quip a response you interrupted, “That one!” Sylus hums beside you pleased.

“Go for it.” He orders crossing his arms. You begin to analyze the space, moving the claw closer to your target. You decide to grab it from the side, hoping the metal claw was able to open wide enough.

You push the button and gleefully jump when it wraps around it. Then you groan as the weight causes it to fall back amongst its kind. “So close. Great for a first attempt. Want me to get it for you?” He asks, as confident as ever. You nod now determined to claim the Dino. You assume he is an expert based on being recognized here and his conviction.

You move out of the way and he takes your spot. You watch him calculating the space, it is almost intimidating. His hand engulfs the controller, gently tapping so that hovers above the target. Then unexpectedly he causes the claw to spin and pushes the button.

“Pfft!!” You cover your mouth to hide your laugh, he was not even close to the prize. A stern expression replaces his chivalrous one. He places in another token more focused than ever.

~

You lost count of the attempts and amount of cups brought over filled to the bream with gleaming coins. With a sneer he mutters, “You could at least encourage me…” This was a new side to him you had never seen, it made him seem more human.

“Want me to pat your shoulder for good luck or something?” You say teasingly and the fire in his eyes could have incinerated you where you stood if he had powers. “That’s not who I am. How about you just step aside?”

He surrenders the remaining coins and makes room for you. He stands behind you and aggressively shakes your shoulders. “You have got this kitten.”

“Call me kitten again and I will force feed these coins down your throat…” you respond, causing him to chuckle. You side eye him and he gives you some space, though you can tell he is not threatened in the slightest.

You turn back towards the machine and focus on the task at hand. The blue T. rex looks smug as it leans against the glass. “I’m taking you home…” you say with conviction and then move the claw in place.

The metal clasp scoops up the tricky dinosaur but you don’t get your hopes up, you had been deceived before. It begins to move with the plushy still in place and finally drops it in the bin for you to collect. “Fuck yeah!!”

A parent nearby gives you a glare while covering their child’s ears. You cover your mouth forgetting where you were. “See encouragement helps.” Sylus ignores the fussy parent to compliment himself.

“Sure…” You grab the plushie in victory. It’s goofy lopsided grin enduring. He smiles at your enthusiasm. “Dinner is on me. I think you might have gone broke after all your attempts.”

“Guess we are just going to keep rubbing salt in my wounds.” He says feigning a pout. You laugh and grab his arm to take him towards the snack bar. “More greasy foods, lovely.”

“Starve then but I’m definitely getting something.” You say dragging him along, he doesn’t protest, merely walks beside you.

You look up when you feel his body grow rigid and his expression is surprised. You realize this was the first time you initiated touch in a long time. You release him embarrassed. “Sorry.” You mutter softly, looking down at your feet.

He grabs your chin, lifting it up to make you look him in the eyes. “Don’t ever apologize for something like that.” He was deathly serious, it came out as a threat. You swallow heavily and nod. The seconds felt like minutes as he held you, both of you unsure what is happening, yet unwilling to move.

Someone close by clears their throat and you both jump a part. “Geez grown adults acting like teenagers…” you hear them mutter and you bite your lip in shame. This isn’t what that was, you protest in your mind. You stumble towards the snack bar, your mind a mess.

Before you could reach the counter his long strides beat you to it. “Dessert first.” He mumbles in passing, his voice seeming far off. His eyes looked forward but distant.

You let him order and he subconsciously guides you to a booth. Too flustered to pay much attention to what was happening you followed beside him as if you were a lost stray looking for affection.

The sugary concoction set down before you made you cringe. Ice cream with every possible topping, a sensory nightmare. “What’s wrong, treasure this was your favorite…” Sylus’s voice sounds as if he is in an illusion of his own creation.

This causes you to quickly recover. Everything hits you at once, you feel dumb when your heart breaks just a little. He is confusing you for someone else right now. The subtle warning in the car with just a glance. The staff knew him by name. You stand up abruptly as Sylus holds a spoon up in your direction to feed you.

This man is heartbroken; seeing him like this made you feel bad for him. This was worse than seeing him slumped over at the bar with a stiff drink. Your movement causes him to blink and he suddenly realizes where he is and who he is with. “Y/N…” He calls your name and you smile at him warmly.

“I’m not big on sweets. So I'm just going to grab a soft pretzel with nacho cheese.” You make sure your voice holds no hostility. Sylus nods and quickly eats the spoonful of dessert himself.

When you return he tries to speak, “I…” you hold up your hand and he looks at you sadly. “Let me…” You grab his hand and squeeze with force, he lets out a breath.

“You don’t have to Sylus.” You reassure him as you let him go. “When you want to talk about it feel free to. I’m not upset. So don’t feel any obligation. Alright?” He studies you then, you see appreciation cross his features. He simply nods.

You both finish your snacks in that familiar silence. “We both are pretty messed up aren’t we?” He says almost gleefully and you laugh agreeing with him. “Thank you.” He adds and you smile.

“What are friends for?” You quip and he chuckles with you. Even when you both lose yourself, somehow you shake each other back to reality. It has been a while since you met someone like him. You want to keep the walls up but some part of your self consciousness knows the longer you're around him the harder it will be. You wonder if he is thinking the same thing as you both give each other weary glances…

[chippedshake]

Ponyboy's narration pt. 2

Okay so.

I was going to make one post about all of the characters from the Outsiders as narrators but then I started with Ponyboy and saw it was too long a post. Then I started writing Ponyboy in two parts: how he influences the reader and what could've brought him to being an unreliable narrator, but I started with the how and saw it was too long a post.

So this is the second post about Ponyboy’s unreliable narration

This is the post where I talk about how Ponyboy influences the reader (i.e. what tehcniques he / S.E Hinton uses to change the reader's perception), and now this post is about what aspects of his personality brought him to be an unreliable narrator.

Just as a warning: almost everything I'm about to say is subjective (although heavily based on logic) and based on the way I interpret a character.

So without further ado:

What has brought Ponyboy to be such an unreliable narrator?

First of all, we have to consider that Ponyboy's only human. As I mentioned in my first analysis, I wouldn't be able to recite the conversation I had with my friend at the bus stop this morning, much less one from several weeks ago. When Ponyboy writes his English theme, it's been at least a couple weeks since Johnny and Dally died (I saw a detailed timeline somewhere; if I find it I'll link it), so everything has a certain degree of uncertainty.

But that's not the interesting part, because not all first-person narrators are known for being unreliable, while all first-person narrators have this degree of uncertainty that comes with everything being a recollection of facts.

I think that Ponyboy's unreliability can be boiled down to two main points: low self-esteem and struggling with social cues.

Struggling with social cues is a bit simpler to explain, so I'll start with that.

As I said in my other post, Ponyboy states his opinions as absolute facts. But often his opinions are misguided: he thinks Dally doesn't love anyone, and Darry doesn't care about him, both of which are eventually proven wrong. Those are both conclusions he got from taking interactions at their face value, not realising what the other two were thinking.

Darry yells at me? He must hate me. Dally doesn't show his love? He must not feel it.

Since the narrative corrected him on a couple times he failed to read social subtext, we can't assume he's right the other times he tells us what a character is thinking with absolute certainty. He could perfectly well be wrong, only he hasn't been corrected yet.

This is most evident with Johnny.

I think everyone in the fandom pretty much agrees that Ponyboy mischaracterises Johnny, portraying him as much weaker than he really is.

Some examples of Johnny's characterisation:

He was the gang's pet, everyone's kid brother.

...

"Me and Johnny'll come," I said. I knew Johnny wouldn't open his mouth unless he was forced to.

...

Then for the first time, really, I realized what we were in for. Johnny had killed someone. Quiet, softspoken little Johnny, who wouldn't hurt a living thing on purpose, had taken a human life.

I'm not saying that Ponyboy is 100% completely off when he characterises Johnny because that would be stupid. I have no authority to say he's wrong because Johnny doesn't exist and I don't personally know him.

I do however think that Johnny isn't exactly like Ponyboy says, simply because he was proven wrong with both Darry and Dally, so I have no reason to believe him about Johnny. It probably holds a nugget of truth, or is a reasonable misinterpretation just like Dally and Darry, but isn't the complete truth.

Now this is bridging into full-on speculation territory, but I think that Johnny changed how he was around Ponyboy. As someone who is currently sixteen and has an almost-fourteen-year-old little brother, I am not my real self around him. Of course, the situation is different, but I think that when you interact with someone younger than you, there is a conscious or subconscious filtering process.

Johnny might be quiet, but being quiet doesn't have to mean being the gang's pet or everyone's kid brother. Ponyboy probably misinterprets his silence for a sort of weakness or softness that I personally don't think is there.

Does that classify as a tangent? I think that classifies as a tangent. Idk guys I just love Johnny. I should dedicate a post just to how characters are mischaracterised and how I think they really are.

*adds to drafts*

Anyways...

Where was I?

Right, Ponyboy not understanding social subtext and social cues.

Basically, I think that there's a lot of times where he thinks someone means one thing and he's just drastically misinterpreted what they mean, only he never realises he's wrong. Not all that deep.

Now for the good stuff: Ponyboy's low self-esteem.

Why do I think he has low self-esteem?

Because I have low self-esteem and project onto my favourite characters

For a variety of reason, really. First of all, I have never met a teenager that is genuinely not insecure at all. Everyone’s uncomfortable with how they look and insecure about their abilities, and I think every teenager would be a very unreliable narrator as well as an insecure one.

And, well, Ponyboy is at the very least humble because

I get put into A classes because I'm supposed to be smart

It drives my brother Darry nuts when I do stuff like that, 'cause I'm supposed to be smart; I make good grades and have a high IQ and everything, but I don't use my head.

Ponyboy, at least at the beginning of the book, only ever says he's "supposed to be smart", not that he's actually smart. Cherry says he's smart. Darry says he's smart. Soda says he's smart. But Ponyboy never says he's smart.

Now, there's a lot to be said about how Ponyboy views intelligence (writing one post just brings me to fifteen other ones I want to make), but I think that even assuming he views intelligence as a negative trait, there are lots of ways to say "I'm smart", at least one of which shouldn't remind him of the negative connotations. "I'm good at school", "I'm school smart"; if he wanted to avoid saying "I'm smart", there were other ways.

 There was another column about just Darry and Soda and me: how [...] I made the honor roll at school all the time and might be a future track star. (Oh, yeah, I forgot — I'm on the A-squad track team, the youngest one. I'm a good runner.)

Ponyboy only ever tells us he regularly makes the honor roll and might be a future track star when it's absolutely indispensible. He doesn't like to brag about his accomplishments, much like someone who doesn't think they're important accomplishments.

He tends to devalue his own accomplishments and strong spots while exacerbating others'. (heh did you see that I used exacerbate in a sentence and it sounded natural)

We've all laughed at how much he waxes poetic on Soda's looks, but that is an example of him bringing attention to someone else's positive traits while mainly paying attention to his own flaws. He criticises his own looks in the opening monologue while constantly complimenting Soda's. He says he has a good build but he's still small for fourteen and talks a lot about how much muscle Darry has.

That isn't to say he doesn't criticise other people, he does, but he's constantly comparing himself to others and using their virtues to point out his own flaws in the most teenager form of self-hate I've seen.

I think the most interesting and possibly compelling argument for Ponyboy's insecurity lies with how it ties into the narration.

Ponyboy tells us that Steve, Dally, and Darry hate him at the beginning of the book. He thinks that three out of six people in the gang hate him.

That's nice.

Now, Dally and Darry are proved to actually care about him, but with Steve we're just left with the original assumption.

Let's take a look at the evidence, shall we?

I liked Steve only because he was Soda's best friend. He didn't like me — he thought I was a tagalong and a kid; Soda always took me with them when they went places if they weren't taking girls, and that bugged Steve.

...

Steve shook his head. "Me and Soda are pickin' up Evie and Sandy for the game." He didn't need to look at me the way he did right then. I wasn't going to ask if I could come. I'd never tell Soda, because he really likes Steve a lot, but sometimes I can't stand Steve Randle. I mean it. Sometimes I hate him.

...

Steve flicked his ashes at me. "What were you doin', walkin' by your lonesome?" Leave it to good old Steve to bring up something like that. 

That's it. That is all the evidence we have that Steve dislikes Ponyboy.

Ponyboy's opinion when he's introducing him, a supposed "look" (might I remind you that we've established that Ponyboy cannot read social cues), and Steve being... worried about him? In a way Ponyboy doesn't like?

Where have we seen that before?

(In case you haven't figured it out: that's exactly what happened with Darry)

And every other time Steve appears, there is absolutely no reason to think he dislikes Ponyboy. They seem friendly even.

Am I saying Steve is never annoyed at Pony? Absolutely not. If my best friend's little brother tagged along to all of our hang-outs, I'd be pissed off too. But there's a big difference between not wanting someone three years younger than you to tag along when you hang out with your best friend and genuinely hating them.

But if you have low self-esteem, you look at any signs of someone being lightly annoyed at you and take that to mean that they hate you (speaking from experience).

What this means for the storyline is that Ponyboy will undermine his own abilities and give the impression that his relationship with other people is worse.

So, in conclusion, Ponyboy is an unreliable narrator because

He's only human and can't be expected to remember everything perfectly

He is very, very bad at reading social cues and understanding subtext, so these are often mis-explained

He has low self esteem and therefore undervalues his own virtues and assumes other people have lower opinions of him

[jetkkawrites]

Hi! I was inspired by @artsymeeshee work on Sea Grunks specifically how they depict Ford. He just seems so warm and friendly and protective so, I decided to scaffold out my own little Post-GF AU in which Ford has decided to teach Cryptozoology at Roadkill County Community College and how he makes connections there. He has his family but needs friends too.

Cryptozoology 101: Chapter One

- Today was the day. New semester, a fresh start to the year. Or at least that’s what Neena Caballero wants to think. This is going to be her third year at Roadkill Community College, studying..well, even she had forgotten at this point. Last semester hadn’t been her best so she’s earning extra credit by being a TA for Cryptozoology 101: An Intro to the Paranormal taught by a Doctor Stanford Pines. She didn’t know the first thing about animals, let alone..crypto-animals? Whatever.

- Doctor Stanford Pines has been in his classroom since five-thirty in the morning, writing out his notes for the morning on the white board. They are neat and in perfectly lines, but the board is completely filled. He’s moved onto the wall.

- Neena opens the door.

- Stanford turns around. Ah, that must be his TA. He turns around.

- He doesn’t exactly know what he expected someone named Neena to look like. She has brown, freckled skin, a squared face and jaw. She seems athletic based on the shorts and jersey she’s wearing, layered underneath a blue-and-white color blocked letterman’s jacket. Her hair is voluminous and curly. The emerald pendants in her ears catch the light. Her dark eyes scan the room in confusion.

- “Hello,” He greets. “You must be Neena—or,” he remembers her name listed on the roster. “Diana is also on the roster I was given if you prefer to be called that.” He folds his hands behind his back, dry-erase marker still in his palms

- Neena is a little shocked to hear her first name; her mother was the only person who ever called her that and they don’t talk anymore. “Neena is fine.” She rubs her forearm; inked on it is a snake; it’s drawn so it looks like it’s curling upwards. Stanford wants to ask about it, but he doesn’t. Instead his gaze trails down to her sneakers. Bright red Converse High tops.

- “I remember having a pair of those when I was your age.”

- “Huh?” Neena looks at her feet. “Oh, yeah.” She chuckles. “These are my favorites.”

- A long and awkward pause ensues.

- “Well,” Stanford clears his throat. “What do you know about anomalies?” He asks her and waits patiently for an answer.

- “Nothing,” Neena isn’t afraid to admit that, because she truly doesn’t know anything about anomalies. She knows the town over, Gravity Falls, where she lives, is known for having monsters and other types of supernatural creatures in their midst but she doesn’t really believe in that. Stanford smiles. “Well, I hope you’ll learn a lot this semester, then. What’s your major?”

- She wants to say English, because that’s what she wants to do so badly, but instead she says Biology. “I want to be a science teacher.”

- “Oh, that’s lovely,” He nods and taps his forehead with his index finger. “Nourishing young minds, a respectable line of work.”

- Neena smiles. “Sure is.”

- Stanford starts to go over the curriculum. The class starts to file in; some of them are baby faced high-school graduates, some are a little older. Neena’s seen them around town, and then there are a few parents, even.

- Their first lesson begins with an introduction to mythos, specifically Greek and Mayan. Neena tries her best to pay attention. It’s her whole job. Today is September 2nd. Today is her birthday. One week before, she found out she was pregnant. Three days ago, her boyfriend left.

- It was her birthday and no one called. Not her brother, not her mom. Not her best friend back in Boston. No one.

- Her stomach lurches.

- “First, we must go over the Greek Pantheon. The twelve main gods did not materialize out of nowhere. There were titans, the most powerful of which was Kronos..”

- The words on the board start to swim and churn, falling over each other in waves. Swim, Neena, just keep swimming. You know all of this.

- “Kronos was a ruthless leader who did not want his children to overthrow him, so he ate them all.” Dr. Pines was clearly a storyteller. “But one, who would become the God King, lit a fire in his father’s belly..”

- The fluttering in Neena’s belly grows louder and louder. She just keeps her head down and tries to listen and write down something to post on Clockwork, the note-sharing website that she has to use. Kronos. Zeus. God-King. Pantheon. Babies. Fire. Olympus.

- “Neena?”

- Class is over. Class is over. She missed the bell because she was so deep in her thoughts. She’s only written words, six of them in the first page of her notebook.

- Her lip quivers. Her eyes begin to water. She sniffles.

- “Sorry.” She closes the notebook. “I’m sorry. There’s just..a lot h-happening in my life.”

- And though the last thing she wants to do is sink into someone’s arms, Neena with bruise-blossomed skin and tired arms, a simply exhausted head that’s clouded by thoughts she believed she wouldn’t have, not now.

- She cried. And Dr. Pines let her. Once she was done, she wiped her eyes with her sleeve and it all starts to pour out.

- “I..uh, just found out I’m pregnant. And it’s my birthday. And it’s my third year of college. And I teach, well, boxing. And it pays the bills, and..I don’t know. I just don’t know.” She picks up her bag.

- Stanford feels unease twist in his gut. This poor girl. It’s her birthday, for Tesla’s sake. “I know that we don’t know each other well,” He had only known her for less than two hours but he felt for her. “But I’m..I would like to be a resource of some sort. If you need time to post notes online or grade papers, then that’s okay.”

- Instantly, Neena feels a great sense of relief and a great swell of dread; this guy was already pitying her and ninety-nine percent of the time, she wouldn’t have stood for it. But she was glad to have support of some sort.

- “Thank you, sir—I, professor. I—thanks.” She wipes her eyes with her sleeve again.

- Ford smiles; his eyes crinkle at the corners. “Of course, Neena. I’ll see you Wednesday when we go deeper into Mayan and Muisca mythology.”

- “Okay. Great.”

- It was Neena’s only class of the day, so she books it to the parking lot and gets in her car, a Ford Taurus painted celery green, a tester color, and a busted bumper. She gets into the drivers’ side and just sits there for an hour scrolling though her contacts deleting, deciding to keep them, it was a cycle that repeated itself. Then two hours passed. Then three.

- Fuck. It was late. She had to get home. Lovecraft Heights was cozy and snug; it overlooks the lake. Neena’s apartment is on the first floor, and she has a clear path down to the water’s edge. Nightfall is swift and she’s taken refuge in her own mind, reading her copy of Gareth Hind’s Odyssey for the million time. She’s curled up on the couch, engrossed in the pages of Penelope’s challenge when she hears it. She takes off her headphones which are blasting the Hamilton soundtrack and hears it again.

- Singing, so sweet and melodic that it must have come from the heavens or something.

- She goes outside, book in hand, headphones around her neck and slowly inches toward the water. Even though she doesn’t want to. Something feels off. She slips her headphones back on her head. The lakefront is idyllic; sparkling green waters - moonlight shimmered across the rippling landscape. There’s a shadow sitting on the white sands of the shores.

- Out of the foam comes a..a fish? But it has teeth or..or fangs and eyes and long, webbed hands.

- Oh, shit. Oh, holy shit. Oh, holy shit. That’s a siren. That’s a siren. She breaks into a sprint and approaches the person by the water. He’s a kid, with a journal in his lap. He has this glazed over look in his eyes.

- The siren is just staring at him with her big green sclera. Her hair hangs around her face like a wet curtain.

- In a moment of, well she didn’t know what, Neena rips her headphones off of her head and puts them onto the boys. “Come on, we gotta go.”

- He was not going to stand up, so she lifted him over her shoulder in a fireman’s carry. She could stand the noise so long if she was running away from that fish demon, right?

- “Dipper?” Called a voice. “Dipper, where are you?” It was one Neena recognized immediately. Dr. Pines came running down the path to the shore. He was in a slim, black trenchcoat, cargo pants, and work-boots that were covered in mud. “Neena!”

- “Dr. Pines, I…” Her mind went hazy.

- Dr. Pines reached into his pocket and pulled out two little yellow earplugs. “Put these in.

- “But-“

- “Give me the boy, just put those in.”

- Neena did as told and followed the two up the path to the parking lot. The boy is still dazed, but at least he’s coherent.

- “I didn’t mean to, Great Uncle Ford. I thought she was far enough away so I wouldn’t be affected.”

- Dr. Pines steadies his great-nephew by the shoulders. “I understand. But I asked you not to go without me.”

- The boy, Dipper, seems so disappointed. “I’m sorry.”

- Neena takes out the earplugs. Just by feeling the texture she knows they’re beeswax. Pure beeswax.

- “Just like in the Odyssey.”

- Dr. Pines glances at Neena. “Yes, I suppose I was inspired by that.”

- “You suppose?” Neena laughs. “You took a page right out of Odysseus’ handbook.”

- Dr. Pines smiles at Neena. “Alright, I guess I did.” He gives Neena back her headphones; Dipper shuffles off to the old station mustard-yellow station wagon that’s old enough to have belonged to her grandfather.

- Dr. Pines sets a hand on Neena’s shoulder. “I can’t thank you enough.”

- “It was nothing,” The understatement of the century, maybe.

- “You weren’t telling me the whole truth today,”

- “Huh?”

- “You know more about anomalies than you said you did.”

- Neena doesn’t know what to say. She just shrugs.

- Dr. Pines bids her farewell again, and thank you, and gets in his car. Neena watches as he pulls out of the parking lot and lingers by the shore path for a little while longer before going back inside.

[hezenkossapologist]

I voted second, though really I need to get further in my second playthrough to really form a solid opinion and evidence base.

But so far, the differences between what Varric is like before and after, read almost like the difference between the real thing, and an AI approximation of what Varric would sound like.

I actually noticed this on my first playthrough, and joked to my friends (who had already finished the game at this point) that I wished the game “had just killed Varric” because he sounded so rote;

(My friends sent me this screenshot of them tearing their hair out at my message in their own finished-the-game chat hahaha)

And I said this specifically because it was driving me up the wall that Bianca died, we see the crossbow smashed, and Varric says NOTHING about this, does not rage against Solas for this, does not mourn, and in fact makes a comment that implies Bianca is not smashed.

This makes me feel like it is Solas puppeting Varric, but that he can’t puppet him with much finesse, only sending out a Varric-ish “programme” which when it chimes as weird or out of character to Rook, they brush off because they want so badly for Varric to be alive. Which is exactly what was happening to me as the player during the first half-ish of the game.

And Varric from my (I have an admittedly terrible memory) recollection only says shallow, shallow things- things Solas could observe and incorporate into the “programme”. Coffee and the Randy Dowager Quarterly and Rook not sleeping- nothing about his and Rook’s and Harding’s time together and journey to find Solas, which imo, if it was coming from Rook, the actual time they spent with Varric would surely be something they would incorporate into his pep speeches, because that is the context within which they actually know Varric.

This struck me as tremendously weird when I first played it, that Varric never talked to Rook about their adventures*

Now though I feel like it supports the idea that Solas is managing Varric, not Rook

It was only when I got to the middleish of the game and Varric stopped saying anything unique and just started to repeat stock phrases that I started getting over my desire for him to be alive, and started thinking about things like him not mourning Bianca, and going “this isn’t Varric, this is a sad simulacrum of him”.

At the time I was so mad at so many of the other writing decisions I put this down to bad writing (and firing the woman who wrote Varric) tho 💀 so.

(Sidenote: this is a massive missed opportunity to characterise Rook: and it doesn’t have to be Varric. You can have Harding and Rook have a conversation a la Inquisitor with Josephine where the player can fill in some details about their pre-game experiences)

i keep seeing different takes on this, referenced offhand like they’re definitely objectively what’s happening, and wanted to see what the proportions are