#There is zero planning with these four and I love that for them :D

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Information

I am bored and so decided to go write a little thing on this as I had an idea again.

First Drabble over here. original prompt by @spotaus

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Next Drabble in chronological order here

This one is around the time after the gang met back up again to return to Nightmare but found the castle starting to collapse. about a week after they left.

Also, apology in advance. I slightly re-did the story of Dream and Nightmare. Just to fit it me more. The original story you can find with Jokublog as their original creator.

Warning, unbeta'ed and unedited as always lmao

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Dust sighs as he glances around the empty and dark halls. The whole castle so far had been empty and deserted.

Because they had deserted him. They had betrayed him. They had-

Dust shakes the thoughts and familiar voice out of his skull. No time. They need to find somekind of clue.

Dust looks from side to side as he thinks. The four of them had searched the bottom floor together but found nothing. Horror had split up to search the forest and gardens. Cross went to search all storage rooms. Killer had went to search the basement and cellar.

Which left the normal rooms for Dust to search.

And he had found nothing. Dust groans as he slides to the ground. Where he just sits for a moment.

It didn't make sense. Because Dust had noticed stuff being gone from their rooms. Dust know one of his old hoodies disappeared but it would be the first time they had a laundry mishap. But the other rooms it felt like stuff had been missing.

But there were no signs of breakins or anything. Nothing that suggested that anyone had been here. Which probably won't be for long.

With how difficult it had been for them to even get back here... It is obvious that the magic keeping everything together and hidden is failing.

It is a matter of time before the universe is no longer hidden and then the Stars will come and mess things up even more.

Which... Nightmare most likely realised. And so he left...

Dust groans as he covers his face and thinks. Fuck. They didn't even know what was affecting boss. What had been causing him to grow weaker and younger. To cause him to lose his powers.

And they FUCKING left! Like fucking assholes and ungrateful little shits!

No wonder Nightmare decided to leave as soon as he realised this universe was a lost cause.

Dust sighs as he looks around the hall before his sight stops at one last door. The door he hadn't dared to enter.

It is stupid.

It isn't like they had been good followers before. With them just abandoning the person who had saved them from their own dying AUs as soon as he lost power.

Yet it felt disrespectful to just enter his room.

Dust shakes his skull again and gets up. He marches over to the door and pauses. He raises his hand and knocks.

No answer.

Dust waits for a moment before knocking again, a tiny bit louder.

Still no answer. Dust still waits before trying the door. He isn't sure if he wants it too open or be locked.

The door opens.

Dust stays still for a moment before pushing the door fully open. The room is dark and empty nad Dust makes sure to check all hiding places.

But still nothing.

Dust sighs before aglimmer of silver catches his eye. He tilts his skull and walks over to the bed. On it lays a shining silver band. Dust hums as he studies it and rubs some of the old dust and grim off of it. only to reveal a crescent moon.

Dust stares at it for a long time. It... it kinda looks like the crown simular to Dream's but it is so much smaller. It looks so much more fragile and dull. Dust takes a seat on the bed as he rubs the soft metal. It is clearly old. Very old. But it seems cared for.

Why... Why would he leave it?

Dust looks around the room again and stops to stare at one of the bedside tables. The drawer isn't completely shut. He pulls it over and immediantly sees that a false bottom has been removed and not bother to be put back. Dust looks at the crown and the drawer before testing it out.

The crown fits perfectly in the drawer and once shut you wouldn't even see it unless you knew it was there. He removes the crown again before turning quickly to the other bedside table. Dust dive crawls over the bed and reaches the other side.

He opens the drawer and removes all the pens and papers and notes from it. It seems to be notes on possible universes for them to raid and notes on what to pick up from where. Small 'to do' lists. The drawer is soon empty and he feels around it.

Click.

Another false bottom pops open and Dust grins as the removes it. Only for the grin to fall as all he can see is an old fairytale book. Dust puts the drawer piece to the side and takes out the book.

It is old. Older than any of Nightmare's books in his library. Older than the castle now looks. Even broken and falling apart.

Dust sits back upright and crosses his legs as he lays the book in his lap. The cover shows a large tree with a female like figure next to it. Golden letters at the top spell out DreamTale.

Dust freezes before he quickly opens the picture book and starts reading.

It is like a childrens tale. A fairytale.

A young powerful woman by the name of Nim. The keeper of emotions who spreads them across the multiverse. Who prefers her privacy. Positive and negative send out as equals and spread where there is a need.

A man. A mortal. Bold and brass. Greedy for things not his. Goes to her and demands a power he has no right to. A fight happens and Nim wins. But the cost is high.

She has been hurt. Hurt by the mortal who she had to kill. The mortal who forced her to bloody her hands. Make her guilty of a crime she never wanted to commit. With her last power she tries to create a way to continue. A way to exist. Before her, two spirts appear.

One is a golden light made of hope and dreams. positivity shines out as the spirit seems happy already. Nim smiles at them and names them Dream. As the little spirit already seems to be a dreamer and a being of hope. A name fitting for the small spirit.

A second spirit, she hadn't expected, takes form moments after the first and Nim pauses. She ends up naming this one Nightmare, only because they seem to be the oposite of Dream in ever way with their dimmer light and purple colour.

Dust stops and frowns "Wow lady. Talk about clear favouritism with your children." Dust frowns as he traces the picture of two small balls of light in the hands of the woman, Nim.

He shakes his skull and continues reading. For how old the book looks it isn't that long.

Nim felt her time nearing its end and searches the multiverse for a vessel to fit her children. Something that can withstand their magic and beings.

Many failures as he desperation hightens and hightens. Until she comes across a skeleton who just shines out with briliant positivity. She doesn't think and uses the last of her powers to recreate that form for her children.

Nim becomes one with her tree as her children begin to move their new bodies. Young and new to the world. Only been made days before. But they have one another and the tree.

Dust glares "Are you kidding me? You give them just... bodies which clearly only fit one of your sons?! What the hell lady?" Dust takes a deep breath before continuing to read. Why doesn't the multiverse know this? Most of their stories are known across it by now.

Neither Dream nor Nightmare know what to do. Both are young and only just been born. Luckily their mother is still with them to guide them. She warns them away from mortals and tells her children it is now their duty to protect her and her tree. But most important the apples that grow from it.

The golden and purple apples. The golden apples will cure any illness and body harm. While the purple apples will heal any magical illness and mental harm.

Nim tells them again and these apples can not be given away as they also hold the key to keeping the multiverse in balance concerning positivity and negativity. That Dream can only touch and pick the golden apples and Nightmare can only touch and pick the purple ones.

But that they should never eat one. Never.

Both the children look up at their mother before nodding. They promise they will do their job and duty and protect her and her apples.

Dust huffs "Wow. Child labor now lady? You are so getting the mother of the year award." he continues reading.

Time passes as Dream and Nightmare stay with the tree. The live and sleep under it and relax near it. That is until the settlers come and people make a village nearby. Nim reminds them again that mortals are not to be trusted.

Dream however wishes to meet them. See who they are and make friends. Nightmare tries to convince his twin to stay near the tree. They job is to guard it and make sure no one tries to take the apples. Dream reassures Nightmare that he can do that by himself before going down to the village.

The villagers are quick to adore Dream. It is no surprise after all. Dream radiates an aura that makes those around him happy and he is happy to help. He goes to the village daily to help around and make friends.

Nightmare however is more distrustful. He remains near the tree and makes sure no one tries to take from it. The villagers are unhappy wiht him. How dare he keep the treasures of the tree to himself. He tries to explain he can't give them the apples but the villagers are quick to leave.

Dream reinforces the rule that no one can be given an apple and the villagers seem to accept this easier.

It continues on. The village keeps expanding quickly and Nightmare shares his worry that they will eventually hurt their tree and mother. Dream nods and promises his brother he will talk with the villagers.

The villagers do not stop expanding but instead gift Dream a large cape with his symbol of the sun on it. To wrap around the tree to reinforce it is special and no one is allowed to cut it.

Nightmare and Dream happily work together to secure it around the tree.

As Dream grows more and more loved by all those around him Nightmare grows more distrusted and shunned. The villagers agree him to be a bad omen and if something bad happens it must be his fault. After all, Dream is the one who helps them and makes them happy. That must mean that Nightmare is the source of what is bad.

Nightmare tries to explain this isn't the case but no one listens. He tries to explain to Dream what the villagers say but Dream just tells him to spend more time with them and get to know them.

Words change into actions. But Nightmare stays quiet. It is no use. And he doesn't wish to make his brother sad.

Wounds and broken bones are eaisly hidden by long sleeves and excuses are easy to make up. Nightmare doens't like lying but no one beleives his truths anyway. His mother reminds him that mortals are not to be trusted but try to keep Dream happy.

It all comes down to one faithful day. Nightmare begs his brother to stay with the tree but Dream had been promised a nice cup of tea from one of his friends.

Dream promises Nightmare he will return quickly after the tea.

Dream drinks it and feels sleepy soon after.

As Dream rests the villagers band together to take what they are owned. After all. They have lived her for so long and that terrible Nightmare refused to share the apples and forbid Dream from sharing them as well.

Nightmare sees them coming and reminds them again. He isn't allowed to give them the apples. As he had reminded them for the last six years of his short life-

"Six?!" Dust stares at the word. Soul beating fast. Six. They had been six. Nightmare had been six! Those... those disgusting creatures saw a babybones. a six year old and younger before that. and decided he was a horrible creature?

Dust has to take deep breaths to calm his racing soul and thundering magic. It is no use. Contain it for now. Read. Learn. Plan. Then act.

Dust quickly finds the spot where he had left off.

As he had reminded them for the last six years of his short life. He isn't allowed to share the golden apples. He can give them a purple apple-

But as soon as he offers the villagers grow more angry. How dare he try and hurt them with those harmful apples?! The apples that no doubt will cause harm and poison them!?

Nightmare was confused and unsure what to say. None of the apples cause harm. They all have ways to help someone in their own way. They just also help the multiverse as a whole. Nightmare steels his nerves and hides his fear as he repeats what he alwyas said 'I can't pick the golden apples for you. I am not allowed. Please leave.' after which he turns and returns towards the tree.

This is when a village grabs their chance. They grab a large rock and bring it down on Nightmare's skull.

It caves nad Nightmare falls down. His head hurts and he can't seen. His soul cries out for his twin. Brother. Brother where are you? Why aren't you back. You promised. You promised me.

Nightmare watches as the villagers near the tree. His mother asking and begging him to help her. That the villagers are killing her and that Nightmare needs to do something to defend her.

Nightmare doens't know what to do. he is afraid. He will die. an apple falls near him. a golden one. and in desperation he grabs it.

The golden apple's colour changes from the beautiful gold to a sickly black. it drips and shimmers. it smells sour and feels wrong. But Nightmare is afraid. He doesn't want to die. and selfishly. Eats the apple.

Dust glares "Selfish?! Selfish?!" he seethes as he looks away from the words and back to the drawing. It looks like a pencil drawing and Dust feels slightly ill. because most of his skull is done in the drawing. the crown broken and dented next to him as the rock caused most of the tiny skull to break. his whole right side is done until just above the mouth. the broken broken edge continues right over the nose bridge and just barely misses the left socket before going all the way around.

The top of his skull had been gone.

Those... They... a six year old. a babybones.

Dust's sockets find the next line and continues on.

Once he starts to eat he can't stop. As Nightmare's own negative emotions and being had infected the pure positivity that the apples were made of. As Nightmare ate the apple all of his own negative emotions came back to him. all the pain he had felt. all the anger, sadness, loneliness and betrayal. All of it came to him and it covered him.

Selfishly, Nightmare felt safe for the first time in a while. uncaring that the very thing protecting him. Would become the undoing of everyone.

Instead of just acceptance Nightmare chose the path of destruction. Once he ate one apple he could not stop himself. He ate and ate and ate.

This is when Dream wakes up. To screams on the couch of his dear friend. He looks outside and sees the tree on fire. He rushes outside and runs towards their hill. towards his brother and mother.

Only to see the damage his brother had caused-

"Are you kidding me?!" Dust glares "It wasn't his fucking fault! Why!? How!? Why faulting him when all he did was try to finally protect himself?! To finally fight back against the abuse?! To... to... fight... the fate this stupid multiverse gave him and... and..."

To... break out of his prison... to escape...

No wonder Nightmare grabbed all of them... No wonder he freed them... and what did they do? They left him alone when he needed help.

Dust shakes and ignores the fact his own view is getting misty.

Only to see the damage his brother had caused. Dream has shocked. He had always defended his brother when the villages were rude about him. Always said that his brother was jsut shy and needed patience. only for his brother to do the very thing the villagers had said he would. That Nightmare would destroy them all.

Dream stood frozen at the edge of the field. The hill covered in the dead and blooding bodies by the cut down form of his dying mother. Dream couldn't hear any words in their mother's panicked and pained screaming.

He runs forwards and reaches for her. A hand touches his shoulder and Dream turns only to be meet with a horrifying image of a black melting creature. In his panic he strikes out and hits the being in the face.

The creature takes a few steps back before raises a hand to touch the spot where he had been hit. Dream looks up afraid before his soul gives a panicked pulse. Finally seeing just who it was and who he accidentally hit in his panic.

Dust huffs "Oh yeah. excuse all of his actions because he is afraid yet punish Nightmare for it. Real good story telling there narator."

Nightmare, now corrupted, pauses before turning back to the tree that had been cut down, their dying mother. And pulls off another apple before he eats it as he stares at his brother 'Well look at that. The betrayer finally showed up. Had enough of leaving your brother to deal with everything alone? With the pain on his own? Wanted to hurt him yourself I see.'

Dream shakes as he holds out a hand 'Nightmare. Nightmare please. stop this. this isn't you.'

Nightmare tilts his skull at his brother. negativity dripping of his form. No longer hurting from physical wounds. all that burns through him is rage. Dream had left him. Dream had never been there for him. Ngihtmare smirks. 'You finally decided to see what your brother is doing? What is wrong? Wanted to make sure your dear friends had time to hurt him first? As always? Because he deserved it?'

Dream shakes 'I don't understand... why...' something hits his foot. Dream looks down and sees another apple. another golden apple. He reaches for it and picks it up. Unlike with Nightmare it doesn't get corrupted. Dream's being is perfect for the positivity and the healing it provides.

Nightmare eyes the apple before looking at Dream 'Give me that.'

Dream shakes his skull and hugs the apply close. Only for his soul to absorb the positivity. Nightmare glares but ends up laughing loudly. Dream takes a few steps back but Nightmare just smirks 'Fitting. Even when your own brother is dying you will defend those stupid villagers first.'

Dream shakes as the apple is now part of him and part of his soul 'Dying? Nighty... please i don't understand.'

Nightmare doesn't react as he turns towards the village, where more ligths are on 'That is because you never listened.' and Nightmare left towards the village. To hurt those.

Dream tried to follow but the negativity around him made him weak. The negativity his brother caused and powered made him lose his powers. With shock he realised that he was turning to stone. Dream tried to reach for his brother. To call for him.

But nobody came.

It isn't until many many years later that Dream breaks free of his stone prison. One of his old villagers friends helps him out fo the stone and tells him all abuot how Nightmare had destroyed everything in a fit of jealous rage.

Dream shakes and says it must be something else. that Ngihty would never. He begs that it must have been the apple. That eating the apple corrupted him. That the corruption must have destroyed him and taken over and done all those terrible things.

His friend asks him what he plans to do now.

Dream thinks before deciding that he will find a way to fix the corruption. the cure Nightmare and fix all the wrongdoings he has done.

The years that follow Dream grows into a formiddable warrior of light and hope. Someone who holds the care for everyone in his soul and meant to battle the darkness. Dream promises himself that he will save his brother from the corruption and makes sure everyone has their chance for a happy future.

The end

Dust stares at it. What about the balance? What about the fact that Nim clearly set one up for success and the other for failure.

What about the fact that Nightmare had been six and had been abused for years on end until that tiny six your old broke under the pressure.

That that same corruption everyone feared was the one thing keeping him safe and giving him power?

Dust stares at the pages for a long time. Things starting to shift around in his mind as a clearer picture starts to form.

"Dusty? Are you here? Found anything?"

Dust traces the crown and feels a small dent and finds the fixed cracks.

All this time he had been working on the balance and trying to right his own wrongs. That had never been wrongs, at least not in Dust's opinion. The wrongs a desperate child made o finally feel safe.

And the very multiverse and fate decided to punish him for it.

Dust's grip tightens on the crown. And they had abandoned him. As soon as his powers started to leave. No doubt the magic of the apples reaching their limits. As soon as Nightmare started to return to his original form. They abandoned him.

Nightmare is somewhere in the multiverse. As the original version of himself. the version he was before he ate the apples. six years old and probably hurt.

Woudl he even have his memories?

"Dust?"

Dust looks up from the book and sees three familiar faces in the doorway. Cross frowns as he takes a few steps closer "You are... crying."

Dust doens't bother to fix it as he feels the book "Nightmare... Nightmare was never an adult."

Shock as Killer is suddenly by his side "Waht the fuck do you mean?"

Dust just hands both the book and crown over as he speaks "He was suposed to be six." he nods at the book "See that name? Notice any specific pattern?"

Killer stares "Dreamtale-" he stops and stares at them as he points from person to person "Dusttale, Dust. Horrortale, Horror. X-tale, Cross." Killer stops and stares down "Dreamtale..."

Dust nods "I don't think... I don't think Nightmare was ever originally meant to leave his story."

Killer opens the book and starts reading. Dust sees Horror and Cross join him as well. That is okay. Dust needs a moment.

They are going to have to find him before Nightmare finishes referting back to his real age. Dust does not want to know if those wounds that he had had would remain.

----

First. Prev. Next.

[keferon]

My hands are shaky and my head is refusing to work properly! But! I made it!

The Blurr chapter for Mecha au >:D

Blurr's job is not to fight for humanity.

Blurr's job is to smile for the camera and take the applause of people who praise him for his bravery and sacrifice. Blurr's job is to sell his face, his voice and his skills to millions of viewers. He must impress investors, show off advanced technology and make a determined face saying that to save mankind he is ready for anything. And then get in a luxury car and drive off to some expensive place to burn a whole bunch of zeros out of his paycheck.

He's not someone who stays after work to help his coworkers. And he's not the one who spends his nights trying to save as many people as possible. He signs autographs, makes big statements, and promises people he'll protect them.

And people believe him.

And they love him.

Swerve is sick of this spectacle. Swerve is sick of this man.

Under the cut

————————————

Nobody likes Blurr.

Okay, if you think on a large scale, everyone loooves Blurr. His face is on every poster, his brand is in every possible store, his voice and is in every cool commercial. You literally can't exist without knowing who Blurr is, or at least seeing his face once. It's a “Luke I'm your father” level phenomenon. How massive a rock do you have to live under to miss something like that?

Everybody loves Blurr. You can go buy a t-shirt with his face on it. You can go listen to his interviews or purchase a tiny replica of his action figure. There are incredibly many ways a Blurr fan can blow a hole in their budget.

Swerve knows, because he's done it many times. And recently, it's stopped being something he's proud of. To be precise, it was exactly four days ago when Blurr first stepped into his office. Swerve had just finished his shift and was finishing his tea when his boss suddenly appeared in the doorway, with the best racer in the world right behind him.

The tea was instantly dropped, adrenaline was released, and the brain was turned off.

In that moment, Swerve thought that this is what it must look like. The moment when all your good karma comes together in one pile to reward you for all the times you dropped a sandwich butter side down or missed a deadline.

Both of which happened with annoying regularity. Swerve is unlucky. Sometimes things seem to fall through his hands.

It started out great.

Swindle, their boss, showed up in the office space one day looking simultaneously jubilant, nervous, and very inspired. Usually on such occasions, Swerve could almost see the dollar signs reflected in his boss's glasses.

“Attention everyone. We have an important guest arriving in an hour.”

Swindle expressively pushed his glasses down on his nose and looked around the room

“I promised him a tour and I expect you all to behave yourselves.”

He meticulously looks around the floor beneath his feet

“Send someone to clean up all the trash. This place is unbelievably filthy. The floors should be sparkling in twenty minutes! And, oh! Hey you, go buy some good drinks.”

Having finished inspecting the floor Swindle hurriedly runs off, probably to say the same thing to the neighboring department.

Swerve stretches his neck out curiously, listening in

“Is the president coming to see us?”

Walking by, Jazz shrugs

“When the president was coming Swindle said the floor was dirty and made him wear boot covers.”

It's not the president

Swindle gestures generously to the entire office at once and looks overall like a bird trying his best to primp up

“And here we have the engineering department offices. In the next building is the assembly plant, that's where the mechs are put on their feet so to speak. And this is where all the computing, design, and planning happens.”

Just over his shoulder stands and looks around at none other than

Oh, dear God.

Swerve's tea flies to the floor next to his thought processes.

He's seen Blurr countless times, but never in person. How can this guy look as good in person as he does in expensive retouched-until-squeaky-clean photos? Mystery.

Blurr's gaze slides lazily over the simple office setting and for those two seconds when it's directed at Swerve it feels like sheer madness. He tries to look normal. He's not sure he's succeeding, but he's making an effort.

Swindle waltzes through the office, heading for the next door

“Come on I'll show you the mech hangar.”

Blurr grins.

“A highlight of the show I suppose~”

His voice is like a needle bursting a ball of stunned silence. People begin to rise from their seats and scramble to say hello. Someone asks for an autograph, others ask for a bunch of selfies, a couple people in the corner hastily fix their hair, one of the employees just pulls out his phone and shamelessly starts filming.

Swindle looks at the this with an unchanging commercial smile, but his gaze promises all kinds of punishment.

Perhaps if it had been the president, the buffoonery would have been smaller.

______________

For the next few days, Blurr is the big news and the center of all discussion.

Officially? He's becoming one of the pilots in the Mecha program.

In fact? Swindle's greedy soul couldn't get enough of the idea that the Mech concept could be monetized.

The dust is blown off Blurr and his boots are licked. He doesn't go to general training, he doesn't participate in ordinary or overly dangerous missions. He's allowed everything and a little more. His job is to look pretty on camera, speak his lines, smile and wink. He's a walking advertisement and Swindle's incredibly powerful tool in negotiating with investors.

Swerve once saw him called to a negotiation in the middle of the night, and even sleep-deprived and exhausted after a full day of filming, Blurr had the strength to pull that charming expression on his face and flawlessly play along with Swindle wherever he needed to.

His mech was a work of art. And that's not even an exaggeration. Usually the main purpose of mechs is to be efficient and practical. Blurr's Mech was made separately and so many people worked on its design that it could have its own end credits. It's beautiful, sleek, shiny and show-offy. It's designed to be awe-inspiring, but not so decorated that it's ridiculous.

When Swerve looks at its specs, he almost feels sick. Maneuverability, mobility, everything is absolutely top-notch. But most importantly, speed.

The technology to accelerate Mechs to incredible speeds has been around for some time, but the average robot doesn't reach even half of the technically possible maximum. Because even the fastest machine can't outrun the human brain.

After a certain threshold, pilots are no longer capable of controlling their own Mech. Human reaction speed is simply not enough to maneuver without crashing into anything or losing their orientation in space. And. Well. Without losing consciousness.

This has led to Mech manufacturers sort of tacitly agreeing on a rough speed limit and tending to stick to it. Just to make the technology safer and more suitable for everyone.

Regardless. Everyone except Blurr apparently.

Because the numbers across from his Mech's speed specs are horrifying. Swerve looks at the blueprints and thinks it's either freaking awesome or absolute suicide. Maybe something in between. Can a human being have reflexes like that? What about this turning mechanism? The numbers tell him that these levels of g-force make a large percentage of pilots just pass out.

Is Blurr really going to pilot this death wagon??

To achieve that kind of speed and mobility, they'd have to cut off half the armor or make it very light. Which would almost be like inviting a dangerous injury.

But if the Mech is made primarily to flaunt rather than fight...well... it probably makes sense.

Swerve's inner fan is sliding down the wall.

Blurr is incredible. And what's even more incredible is that he's kind of sort of almost Swerve's coworker now.

It only takes him a couple days to realize.

Everyone loves Blurr.

But the one who loves Blurr the most is Blurr himself.

The rose-tinted glasses are breaking slowly but surely. On the first day, Sverve walks up on shaky legs to get introduced. He tells himself that this is definitely not an attempt to get an autograph. They're coworkers. He's just...uh...greeting a new employee.

Blurr looks slightly bored.

“You're from this department....uh.. What's its name, whatever.”

Swerve clutches his hands in front of him so he doesn't accidentally drop anything

“OH.Uh yeah. Swerve! Engineering Department. You were there on a tour the other day. I usually work in the assembly plant, making armor for Mechs, developing new alloys. But I design too! I, uh.

(Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. He'll think you're a crazy fan. Don't talk about Blurr.)

Blurr starts to get sidetracked by his phone.

Swerve swallows awkwardly.

“I'm uh. I'm a big fan of yours. Sir.”

(Good job...)

Blurr chuckles softly and offers out his hand

“Well, nice to meet you.”

Sverve's hand is shaking like crazy, he hopes he isn't squeezing too hard. Working in the assembly has made his hands rough. Blurr's narrow, soft palm is almost sinking in his grip.

“ 'Nice to meet you, yes. Nice to meet you sir! If you, ah, if you have any problems or questions or uh, well. You know, if you need help with your Mech or upgrades or or.”

Blurr chuckles.

“I'll be counting on you~”

Swerve feels like his soul is about to break away from his body.

The next, day when they cross paths in the hallway Blurr waves to him.

“Hey you. Whatever your name is. Can you tell me how to get to Block D?

Swerve stops awkwardly.

“Ah. Of course! I'm Swerve sir. Come, I'll show you.”

Blurr smiles a beautiful, ad-libbed smile and follows him in

“Thank you darling.”

From this point on, the entire program gradually learns a simple but unpleasant truth.

Blurr is an asshole.

And nobody likes him.

He always has everyone at his beck and call. You rarely get to see him on his own. There's always someone swirling around him with a guilty or annoyed face. A sort of serve-get-show-explain designated poor guy.

Swindle treats Blurr like a precious antique vase.

Blurr treats people like his servants.

The whole world is in love with the glittering cover, the image polished to a squeak. Until recently, Swerve was doing the same thing. Now it feels more like an embarrassing crush.

Blurr still doesn't remember his name. He actually remembers at most three to four people by name, and calls everyone else “hey you” or “ darling”. After Swerve reintroduced himself to him for the fourth time he just sort of...stopped trying.

On the field, Blurr is incredible. No one can deny that. The tremendous speed of his Mech leaves all the other pilots in the dust. Whoever said human reflexes weren't fast enough? HA. When Swerve sees his reports and results, he gets dizzy.

The combination of such incredible speeds and light armor means Blurr simply can't miss. If he hesitates, if he falters. If he gets confused. The whole metal thing will smash him to smithereens.

And yet Blurr comes back untouched time after time.

Swerve's no longer inclined to think it's just because of his mad skills. He knows that Swindle is paying Blurr a lot of money for his cooperation. No one would let Blurr fight on the front lines, no. It would be too dangerous. He has to do just enough so that Swindle can record a commercial and in it call Blurr a badass pilot without adding small print to that statement.

Blurr's job is not to fight for humanity.

Blurr's job is to smile for the camera and take the applause of people who praise him for his bravery and sacrifice. Blurr's job is to sell his face, his voice and his skills to millions of viewers. He must impress investors, show off advanced technology and make a determined face saying that to save mankind he is ready for anything. And then get in a luxury car and drive off to some expensive place to burn a whole bunch of zeros out of his paycheck.

He's not someone who stays after work to help his coworkers. And he's not the one who spends his nights trying to save as many people as possible. But he is the first person every citizen would name if asked to say something about the Mech program. He signs autographs, makes big statements, and promises people he'll protect them.

And people believe him.

And they love him.

A month later, he still can't remember anyone's names and sometimes calls people by the colors of their clothes, laughing as if they should take it as a cute joke.

Swerve is sick of this spectacle. Swerve is sick of this man.

That's okay.

It's not like fanboying over Blurr is Swerve's only passion.

He gets upset.

Then he gets mad and rips down all the posters.

Then he has no time to be angry because Swindle wants to launch Mechs into outer space and damn it, Jazz flies off the planet and doesn't fucking come back. The engineering department stays up nights trying to figure out where he's gone, but they can't.

Unlike Blurr, everybody loved Jazz.

Unlike Blurr, Jazz deserved every ounce of that love.

The ground beneath his feet is starting to shake.

At first, all that happens is panic. Everyone starts making a confused noise, someone assumes an earthquake.

A voice on the speakers says that everyone needs to evacuate immediately, but no one hears it because huge mechanical tentacles start coming through the windows and the whole building starts shaking, creaking and crumbling.

Sverve has seen the monsters humanity has to fight many times. But never this close. And their size leaves him absolutely terrified. These things are huge, they take up all visible space. And what's most damning is that they can break down the walls around Swerve like a fucking cookie.

He's gonna die. Oh god he's going to die, he's going to die, he's going to die, he's going to die, he's going to die, he's going to die, he's going to die here under this stupid rubble or get eaten or turned into one of the ugly bloody stains on the wall. His heart is doing a million beats a minute and his eyes are starting to sting. He tries to get to the emergency exit, but the door is blocked by one of the huge toothy creatures that is actively trying to get in.

Next to him, Swindle is shouting to someone on his comm, trying to sound louder than the rumble of the collapsing building and the hungry aliens.

The floor tilts at a very disturbing angle and Swerve grabs one of the interior doorways to stay in place. A second later, he reaches out and pulls Swindle, who has already slowly begun to slip toward the monster's huge hungry maw, to the same doorway.

Swindle grabs onto the frame of the door and Swerve at the same time. His glasses are cracked and his usually neat expensive coat is all dust and debris.

“It was a trap.”

Swerve can't hear a word over the grinding of breaking structures.

“What?”

Swindle almost slips and falls, but Swerve grabs him by the scruff of his coat and puts him back on his feet. Working in an assembly shop gives a man strong arms and right now he's very grateful for it.

Swindle makes a second, louder attempt

“It was a trap!!! All available pilots are now on the other side of the country! I've called for backup, but who knows how fast they'll get here.”

A smooth, silky voice comes from a walkie-talkie strapped to his coat.

“Ouch Swindle. So little faith in my professional skills?”

Swindle rounds his eyes

“Blurr??! Where are you!”

Blurr's voice sounds...not quite as it usually does. It's missing the habitual lazy note. The one that makes him sound like the whole world owes him money.

“Give me another minute and the answer will be 'here'.”

The building shakes again. Swindle swears so eloquently that Swerve can't help but admire it.

Swerve can't stand Blurr's smug face, but when he spots the first glimpse of blue metal in the window, joy floods his brain.

He usually associates Blurr with dumb nicknames, dismissive treatment, and commercials.

Now he watches the sleek, fast Mech lunge fearlessly at the monsters surrounding the building and thinks that. Fuck this. He's an asshole, but if he buys Swerve enough time to evacuate, he'll bring him a thank you card or something later. Though it's unlikely Blurr will care about that of course.

Swindle continues to shout instructions over the walkie-talkie. Swerve basically drags him outside by. He jumps up probably a full meter when very near him one of the monsters falls to the ground.

Blurr's Mech stands proudly on top of the fresh corpse and looks...actually really bad. Swerve knows that this particular robot was not built for rough, open confrontation. Its armor is too thin. Designed for speed and agility, not strength. He assembled it himself, after all.

Many of the plates are crumpled. Some are torn off. His legs are intact, but one of the joints sparks funny.

Blurr quickly looks around and Swerve unwittingly follows his example. The whole place is on fire. Office buildings are in ruins and a huge column of black smoke rises above the assembly plant.

Blurr's Mech drops to the ground and gets down on one knee. The plates on its chest are pulled aside and Blurr sticks his head out of the cockpit while simultaneously opening the visor on his helmet.

“Everyone okay?”

Swindle clutches the walkie-talkie

“The office areas are empty, but there still could be people left on the lower floors of the assembly plant. But we have no access there!”

Blurr drums his fingers quickly on the metal plate

“Fire?”

Swindle shrugs his dusty shoulders

“Something exploded at the bottom of the building. It's a real smelter down there.

Even if we send a Mech, it won't last more than a minute before it overheats. Or make the building collapse.”

Blurr's gaze becomes focused. Sharp. Swerve has seen that look many times on tough front line fighters like Jazz. On Blurr, never.

“'That's enough time for me.”

Swindle waves his hands

“Are you crazy?”

Blurr slaps his palm against the armor of his Mech

“This baby is light. Lighter than anything you've got! If anyone can do it without dropping the building, it's me. They make Mechs in the assembly hall, it's got high ceilings right?”

Swerve wants to snap. He wants to throw his hands up angrily and yell something along the lines of “you were literally there!”

Who else is down there on those lower floors??? Tailgate? Maybe Wheeljack? If something exploded, Wheeljack was definitely there. And probably closest to the explosion.

Swindle curses furiously, but retreats and runs off to give orders to someone else.

“”Be a hero if you want, but I'm not going in there. For all I know there could be melting metal in there instead of a floor! It's just not reasonable.”

Swerve's brain stumbles over that statement. Why...Swindle is acting like he's being forced to climb into that building too...?

Blurr looks nervous.

“You know what. Fine. I got it. Hey, you--”

And there it is. The good old namelesness.

Blurr pays no attention to Swerve's frowning face, nor his hands shaking with fear

“ You're familiar with those buildings. You know who was there and where to find them right? I need you to walk me through.”

Swerve feels the urge to snap again and this time doesn't hold it back

“If you cared about something other than yourself, you'd know this damn building and the people who work in it too and !”

“I don't fucking remember!” Blurr interrupts him.

Swerve doesn't have time to put anything in after that. Though a sarcastic comment is begging to be made.

Blurr quickly takes off his helmet and wipes the sweat off his forehead.

“I don't remember okay! This isn't a fad or posing or whatever else you think of me. This is what an accident can do to you if you miss a turn! I can't remember shit, okay?! Do you need a medical report?!”

Swerve just...stands there with his mouth open and probably looks like an idiot.

Blurr nervously tucks back his disheveled hair. The longer he talks, the faster he does it.

“Now. I know you don't want to die in a pit of fire. But I need your help to save them. Don't do anything, just take the map. I promise I won't let you die.”

He sounds determined. And holds out his hand to Swerve, silently inviting him to climb up onto the Mech.

His face is stained in sticky dust, his hair is an absolute mess, and his narrow palm is covered in streaks of soot. It's as if he's been dragged face down a muddy road.

He's. Very Handsome, Swerve thinks.

He takes his hand.

Blurr helps him up, pushes him into the space next to the pilot's seat, and closes the cockpit.

“Been inside a working Mech ever?”

Swerve clenches his hands nervously on the back of the seat

“No.”

The lights of the consoles around him come to life as Blurr puts on his helmet. The space around him hums. It's a strange noise. At once unsettling and calm.

Mech feels alive, he thinks. Then corrects himself. Blurr is mind-linked to this Mech. This Mech can technically be considered alive in a sense.

Blurr moves one of the monitors toward him and opens the map.

“Just mark the path here. Don't touch anything else. And hold on tight. I won't be going too fast anyway, but it'll be shaky.”

Swerve swallows nervously.

“Understood.”

After that, everything turns into motion. Watching the Mech work while being inside is mesmerizing.

Blurr doesn't say much, concentrating on the controls. His hands aren't shaking anymore, Swerve notices. Not even a little.

He steers the machine forward confidently and smoothly, dodging falling debris and avoiding the biggest pockets of fire without panic or hesitation.

He's also strictly following the path Swerve is laying out for him.

The air filtration system is doing well so far. Swerve can feel the smell of burning and the heat slowly creeping up, but it's bearable for now. For now.

They find a man on the nearside of the emergency exit.

Two more people a floor below. A small group stuck in the elevator.

Wheeljack's on the doorstep of his lab.

Blurr pulls them all out. Picks up the first group of people and carries them outside, goes back into the fiery furnace, finds more survivors, pulls them out, goes back, searches, rescues, goes back, searches, rescues.

The heat is coming up. Swerve can feel it. The plates around him are getting hot. The air smells like burnt wires.

Blurr’s Mech wasn't designed for this kind of thing.

His Mech was made to flash for the camera and accelerate to impossible speeds. To deceive and confuse the enemy. Its armor is thin and cools easily in the air, which usually helps it avoid overheating.

This also means that this Mech heats up very quickly as well.

Now, with the air around him feeling like a red-hot frying pan, Swerve regrets not saying anything back then. He regrets that he didn't make any changes to the blueprint.

More and more warnings pop up on the screens. The map stopped working correctly some time ago and Swerve is forced to give directions verbally.

He nervously grips the back of the pilot seat with one hand and, without noticing, Blurr's shoulder with the other.

Blurr carries two more people outside and hands them to the rescuers. Then turns back to the building again and. OH FUCK. Right in front of him, a huge crack begins to creep along the structure. This thing is on the verge of collapse. The roof is already starting to fold down in a very bad way.

Swerve clenches his grip fearfully and hears Blurr hiss through his teeth.

Suddenly, the cockpit opens. The fresh air of the street feels like a cold sledgehammer blow after the heat and stuffiness of the lower levels.

Swerve is about to ask something, but doesn't have time because Blurr uses Mech's hand to gently but quickly pull him outside and set him on the ground.

“You were going to mark another spot.”

Swerve nods hurriedly.

“Tailgate is still there.”

Blurr wrinkles his face.

Swerve corrects himself and clarifies

“Bright blue uniform. Short. Considering all the places we've been, I think he's in the staff quarters. It's...”

He chews his fingers, trying to remember numbers and directions without a map

“...two floors down, left, another floor down and straight ahead.”

As he speaks Blurr bends over the side of the open cockpit and spits...blood on the ground. His nose is bleeding, Swerve realizes. That's not good. It's a clear sign of a malfunctioning neural connection. Or damage to his respiratory system? Possibly both.

Blurr doesn't seem to notice his worried look

“Two down, left down then. Shit. Wait. Two down, left then down, straight ahead yeah?”

Swerve nods.

Blurr keeps repeating these directions like a mantra. A very fast and creepy mantra.

His gaze roams strangely and his breaths sound hoarse. His teeth and chin are covered in blood and his face is streaked with soot.

Swerve understands. He's about to do another go.

Two down, left, down, straight. Two down, left, down, straight. Two down, left, down, straight.

Alone. He's going, and he's going to fry himself alive in there for a stranger he doesn't even remember.

Swerve doesn't have time to say anything. What's he gonna say? Stop? But he wants to save Tailgate? Go on, I believe in you? But it's certain death.

Swerve rarely has nothing to say, but this time he can't find the right words.

Blurr wipes the blood with his sleeve, wrinkles his nose, and storms off, heading back into the flaming mess the plant has become.

Not twenty seconds later, the roof collapses, spewing a huge cloud of smoke, ash, and fire into the sky.

Swerve wrinkles his shirt nervously in his hands.

The walls are still in place, right? If the roof is gone but the walls are still standing it's... it's. It's.

Damn it. He's trying to remember the blueprints. It means the ejector will work. It means Blurr can still get out through the top. That--

Blurr's not getting out. As the small, bright blue escape pod appears above the falling walls of the building, Swerve feels his brain stop. Remember the blueprints, remember the damn blueprints. The Mech is light, the design is compact, the space in the pod is for only one person.

In the capsule lies an unconscious Tailgate.

Swindle grasps the radio

“Blurr? BLURR!”

Swerve looks at the smoke and ash and feels numb. He doesn't want to be here anymore. He has to know. He doesn't...

He feels weird. The same kind of weird as when objects fly seemingly through him. Everything just stops being real.

The thought comes out of nowhere. You don't have to obey the rules. You can see more. Just look.

He's not sure how or why he's doing it.

No one around him is paying much attention to him. Everyone's busy with survivors and damage assessment or just stunned by the chaos.

And him? He disappears.

And then he appears at the bottom. Under the rubble.

All around him is ugly, molten and red-hot chaos, but he doesn't care anymore. He feels like whatever is happening is about to end and he just has to be in time. Time for him to find out.

Blurr's Mech lies crushed by the fallen roof. Its cockpit is open. A gaping hole where his chest was, the place where the escape pod had undocked.

Wall debris has pinned him in a crooked, grotesque pose.

Blurr is here. His legs are wedged between crumpled metal plates inside the cockpit, leaving him hanging upside down. His suit is charred. Half of his face is destroyed. It looks like a horrible bloody and burned mess. It's ugly and gruesome.

Blurr opens his only working eye and gives Swerve a cloudy look.

“I must be seeing things...”

Swerve shrugs in daze. He knows he shouldn't be here.

Blurr spits up a mouthful of blood

“I'm sorry I hurt you uh...”

“Swerve.”

“Yes. Swerve. It's hard for me to remember things unless they're...akgh...hell... not in my face all the time.”

Swerve moves closer and frowns

“You know, that explains but doesn't excuse you.”

Blurr closes his eye and coughs. That sounds really bad.

“No...I guess not.”

He huffs off the blood again. The burned half of his face is oozing with it. The blood runs down his forehead, collecting in a small puddle on the floor.

“It was better than letting everyone know what's wrong with me. I can't even begin to think about the amount of messes I'd be dragged into.”

Swerve notes that the fire seems to be getting closer.

This whole bit of dialog is so unnatural. Who even talks about that kind of stuff before they die. On the other hand. Well. Character development?

“So you think it's better to have everyone assume you're a jerk than that you got your head screwed on?”

Blurr wrinkles his nose.

“ You're a very specific kind of ghost.”

Swerve shoves his hands in his pockets and looks away

“I needed to know. Before you die.”

“That's ...akghhh...ha....it's good to know. Can you tell me something Swerve? As..agh...

As a last wish?”

Swerve shrugs again. He stares at the dripping blood. At the ugly, bubbling burns. At the burst vessels in his eye and the paths of blood from his bleeding nose. He looks at the broken and scorched and dying bloody mess.

He looks at Blurr.

And he thinks, until today, he didn't really love Blurr. Not with the posters and figurines. Not with the disdain and dislike.

He loved an image. And hated an image.

He reaches out and tries to touch Blurr's hand, but goes through it.

“I'm sorry. But we're both not really here. And I have to go.”

He can feel the cold metal around him, which is strange because he's standing in the middle of smoking and burning ruins

“But if it makes you happy, I guess you're my favorite character after all.”

Blurr doesn't answer. Swerve isn't sure he even heard him.

The feeling of metal around him grows sharper.

Someone shines a flashlight in his face.

Swerve blinks stupidly and tries to move away.

The unknown Autobot medic standing over him smiles happily and puts the flashlight away

“Welcome back. You've been in a coma Primus knows how long.”

The other medic to the side frowns

“You have zero tact.”

Swerve blinks his optics puzzled, raises his servo and for a while just stares at it like some movie character. All around him is an Autobot medbay. Metal walls. Metal instruments. And him. Metal.

Yes. Seems so. That's the way he's always been. That's right.

“Doc, you won't believe what kind of weird dream I had.”

___________

Swerve feels like he's going crazy.

He's standing in the middle of a hallway on one of the Autobot ships, and he's staring. shamelessly.

There's Prowl standing at the end of the hallway. And on his shoulder is...

“ JAZZ????”

Both bot and human turn around abruptly at his scream. And both look equally puzzled.

Jazz waves his hand

“Do I know you?”

Swerve is definitely going crazy. It's Jazz. The same one. From his...dream??? But he's real and tangible??? Sitting on Prowl's shoulder, talking and breathing and being seen by everyone not only Swerve????

“You're...real...?”

Jazz raises his eyebrows

“I am. Yes. Really Mech, you sound very familiar.

But I can tell you for a fact that I have not been friends with any Cybertronians before...”

This can't be, this can't be, this isn't....

It was a dream. The spawn of his TV series-addled mind. A hallucination. It wasn't real. It wasn't, was it?

But Jazz is here. And he disappeared from Earth. And now he's here.

And.

What the..

Swerve blurts out something like “sorry-sorry-see-you-later-now-I've got to go” and runs off.

“HEY DOC????”

The autobot, already familiar to him, flinches

“Primus...Swerve? Is something wrong?”

Swerve realizes that everything is about to either make sense or lose it completely.

“Tell me...is it possible to project a holoform...like...very far away?”

The Doctor tilts his head.

“Depends on power consumption. If you channel all the energy available in a frame, you can go very far. But that would send you into a...coma...if you...tried...Swerve, is there anything you'd like to tell me?”

“Doc do you know where Earth is?”

“Wha...no?”

Swerve chuckles nervously and bites his knuckles.

“I don't either. But I think I've been there...”

[baby-yongbok]

Puppy's Punishment

HardDom!Seungmin x Sub!Fem!Reader

🩶Genre: Smut, Porn no plot. 1% plot 99% disgusting 🥵

🩶Summary: How do you train a dog to not piss on the floor? Stick their face in it.

🩶A/N: I'm trying to write some different kinds of smut and thought I'd share. The idea came to me last night soooo here its is! Enjoy!

🩶Word Count: 2,290

‼️Warnings: Puppy Play, D/S Dynamics, Hair Pulling, Slapping, Spit, Cursing, Degradation, Piss kink, Rough sex, Cum eating/Swallowing, Mentions of breeding (Sorry If I missed any)

‼️Names Used Towards Reader: Pup, Sweet girl, Bitch, Mutt

‼️Names Used Towards Seungmin: Sir, Min, Seung

✨Masterlist✨

collar banner by: @benkeibear

“There's no point in hiding. I'm going to find you.” Seungmin's voice echoed through the quiet house as his bare feet padded across the hardwood slowly.

You were in trouble to put it lightly but this is exactly what you wanted. You and Seungmin had a unique relationship. In public you're the sweet silly couple, always teasing each other lovingly and cracking jokes with others. But at home it was different. You're his submissive, his pet. He is your dominant, your owner and a strict one at that. He has zero tolerance for disobedience so you make sure to be a bit bratty and break the rules from time to time, just to spice things up a bit.

“You can't hide forever, mutt.” You hear his footsteps nearing your hiding spot. You know that it's an obvious spot, you know that you'll get caught and that's exactly what you want. “What do we have here?”

You yelp in shock as he swings the closet door open, swiftly grabbing you by your foot and pulling you out of your ‘safe’ space.

“Looks like I found a spoiled, disobedient bitch in heat.” You whimper at his sharp words as he stands over you. His glare is dark yet amused. He's having fun with this.

“I didn't do it, sir.” You blink up at him through thick lashes, pretending to be oblivious to the cause of this chase.

“Really? So there's another mutt walking around here and pissing on the floor? You want to go with that story?” You bat your lashes, shaking your head at him and he clicks his tongue in response as he bends down to your level.

“When did my sweet little pup become a brat?” He reaches out to you, stroking your cheek gently with the pads of his fingers. He watches you with sparkling eyes as you melt into his touch. Savoring every second of attention.

“Ah, she wanted my attention, huh? My puppy missed me?” You nod your head softly yet fast enough to convey your urgency. “Bad girls don't get this kind of attention.”

His gentle touch shifts into a stinging pain as he slaps you firmly across your cheek causing a surprised whimper to escape you. Before you can look back at him his hand is in your hair. His nails scratch at your scalp as he grabs a fist full and pulls you forward onto all fours.

“Bad puppies get punished, you know that don't you?” He walks you by your hair, keeping his grip tight as he leads you down the hallway and over to the mess you made. You crawl as fast as you can to keep the stinging on your scalp to a minimum. You can feel your thighs getting slick and sticky with arousal as the moments pass.

“I trained you better than this, didn't I?” He stops you in front of the puddle you made on the living room floor. Pulling your head back by your hair to make sure that you look exactly where he wants.

“Yes, sir.” This was the game that you loved to play. Be a disobedient brat one second and then an angel the next. You knew that he loved it that way, he loved your fake innocence and the way that you'd submit to him once things were going according to plan for you.

“Do I need to drill the rules into you? Write them on my cock and fuck it into you?” You moan nearly instinctively and your dripping cunt clenched around nothing at his words.

“Yeah? My girl wants me to fuck the rules into her?” Seungmin's free hand pulled the hem of his sweatpants down just enough to free his hard cock. Your mouth watered at the sight. He let go of his grip on your hair, pushing your head forward a bit before he circled around to your rear and kneels. He slides your shorts and panties down your legs, leaving them in a pool around your knees. His fingers glide through your folds, prodding and teasing your entrance with the tip of his finger.

“What kind of sick girl gets off on being in trouble? You like it when I'm mad at you, huh?” Your eyes roll back into your head at his teasing tone. He smacks your ass hard and you lunge forward a bit, nearly falling into the mess in front of you.

“I asked you a question, didn't I?”

“Yes, sir. I love it when you're mad at me.” He slides two of his fingers into you as you answer him. Your mouth falls open in a quiet gasp as he stretches you, curling up towards your sensitive spot and stroking the soft wall.

“This pussy is so swollen for me.” With his free hand he spreads your cheeks and licks a wet stripe over your asshole. A deep moan erupts from your throat as he rims your hole.

“Fuck.” He pushes his fingers deeper into your cunt, there's no possible way that he isn't nearly grazing your cervix.

“Watch your fucking mouth.” He scissors his fingers inside of you and you bite your lip to muffle your moan.

“I'm sorry, sir.” He slides his fingers out of your cunt, leaving you empty and longing for him.

“Show me a trick.” He leans back onto his knees with a teasing smirk on his lips.

“I- I don't know -” Before you can finish your sentence his fingers are laced through your locks again. Pulling at the strands lightly before he pushes you forward, your cheek presses against the floor and you moan at the feeling of the cool liquid on your face.

“How about you beg?” He runs the tip of his dick up and down your cunt. Collecting your slick and teasing you simultaneously. “Beg me to fuck your face into your piss.”

“S-sir.” You squeeze your eyes shut as his tip runs over your clit at a teasingly slow pace. “Please fuck me. Fuck me into the mess I made. Punish me for being a bad puppy. Please, sir. I deserve it.”

His cock breaches your dripping hole slowly, sliding in at a torturous pace. “Ah, my sweet pup is in heat for sure. Cunt so wet.”

He takes his time bottoming out, his low grunts of pleasure sends shocks right down to your cunt as you take every inch of him. “You know better.” He pulls back quickly and slams his hips into you. You lunge forward, bracing yourself with one of your hands in the puddle beneath you.

“You know better than to fucking piss on the floor, don't you girl?” His tone is mockingly sweet as he starts to pound into you.

“Y-yes Sir, I'm sor-ry.” He finds a steady rhythm, fucking you at a rough moderate pace. His hand stayed laced in your hair, holding you down into the puddle.

“You see that? You see what you did? Are you going to do it again?” He picks up his pace a bit as he tries to literally drill his rules into you. You whimper at the change. Holding your breath for a second before you answer.

“No s-sir.” He angles his hips upward, hitting the perfect spot as you stutter your reply.

“Stay.” He hisses as he removes his hand from your hair and moves to grip your hips. He speeds up more, fucking into you at an ungodly pace. Gaspy screams escape you as you brace yourself against the floor. Your hair and forearms are wet with your mess as he pounds you.

“You could've gotten fucked like a good girl.” He spreads your cheeks enough to run his thumb over your asshole. “You could've asked for my attention.”

He spits down onto the puckered hole, spreading the wetness with his thumb before pressing into the greedy hole slowly. Your mouth falls open in a silent gasp at the sensation.

“But you just had to be a disobedient bitch, huh? You had to make me punish you.” A moan follows his statement as you clench around him. He tilts his head back in bliss, taking in the warmth of your walls for a second. Your moans fill the air mixed with the sound of skin slapping as your orgasm creeps up your spine.

“Sir, I'm gonna-” You’re cut off by a deep groan from your partner. He leans over you. Pressing his front to your back and reaching around to rub your clit.

“The fuck you are, hold it, mutt.” He grunts in your ear as your cunt swallows him, contracting around him repeatedly as you fight to contain your climax. “Be a good girl for once.”

He hisses at you through clenched teeth as he grinds into you, kissing your cervix lightly with the perfect curve of his cock.

“Min- seung - sir, I can't, I'm gonna.” He spits down at you and you wince at his saliva hitting your cheek, you feel it as it runs down at mixes with the piss below you.

“If you fucking cum I will ruin you.” His threat comes out as a growl that sends shivers down your spine and pleasure to your pussy. You struggle to hold back as he abuses your clit, flicking the sensitive numb at a harsh pace.

“You're going to take my cum, aren't you, pup? You're going to let me breed you. M'gonna fuck my puppies deep into this cunt.” You cry out as you feel yourself start to tip over the edge. Seungmin feels your walls flutter around him and pinches your clit between his fingers.

“Do it, I dare you, go ahead.” You know better than to listen to him. He's teasing you. Your mind knows that but your body doesn't care. A wave of burning hot euphoria washes over you as you fall apart on his dick. Your body shakes as the intensity builds with each of his rough strokes. He continues to abuse your clit to his content, ignoring your desperate cries for relief.

“Sir, it's s-so much, so much.” You can tell that he's on the edge of his pleasure by how his breathing changes and how sloppy and sharp his thrusts are getting. His nails bite into your hip as he uses you. Ignoring your cries like you're no more than a toy for him to use.

“Take.It.” He punctuates his words with a harsh thrust and you can feel your high building again at the intensity.

“Fuck, baby, take it all. I'm gonna stuff this tiny cunt full of my cum, pup. Fuck, take it, take it all.” The fucked out growl in his tone nearly sends you over the edge for a second time. You feel his cock twitch in your pussy as his thumb pushes deeper into your ass, filling you up to his knuckle.

You moan as his hot cum spills into you, painting your walls white as it tries to escape your tight hole. Seungmin slows his thrusts as he comes down from his high, still maintaining a slow and deep rhythm.

“You like making messes?” He lets go of your hair as he sits up, pulling out of your cunt slowly. He watches as your pussy clenches and his cum seeps out of you, dripping onto the floor and creating another puddle beneath you.

“Sit up.” With a shaky breath you lift your head. The cool sensation of your piss dripping off of your hair and down your face and neck makes you shiver as you turn to face him. He looks down at the puddle of cum between the two of you. His eyes are dark and clouded as they meet yours. “Clean it up.”

You stare back at him with hazy fucked out eyes. There isn't a single thought in your head. The only thing that you know to do, want to do, is obey him. You place your palms on the floor, getting back on all fours and leaning down to lick your mixed arousal from the hardwood. The bitter taste of his cum mixed with yours floods your tongue and you moan as you take it in. Seungmin clicks his tongue as he watches you, a devious smirk on his face.

“You're a disgusting little bitch you know that?” You blink up at him with your tongue out, his semen dripping off of the tip. “Swallow”

You do as you're told immediately, taking the mixture down your throat and sticking out your tongue to prove that it's gone. He leans forward, grabbing your chin gently and dipping down to attach your lips. He kisses you gently yet hungrily. You allow his tongue to part your lips and taste the arousal lingering on your palate. You whimper against his lips, chasing him a bit as he pulls away.

“My sweet girl, you did so well.” He strokes your hair, ignoring the wetness and grins down at you. “Color?”

“Green.” He nods at you with a smile as his thumb strokes your cheek softly.

“That's my pup, listen, I want you to go get in the shower and wait for me, okay?” You furrow your brows slightly as you agree. “I forgive you for making a mess.”

He kisses your forehead but his grip on your chin tightens a bit as he forces your gaze on his.

“But you came without permission and I told you what would happen.” You gulp at the sting that his sweet tone carries. He smirks at you as your eyes search his, quietly begging for mercy but you can tell that you won't get it. Just like you want to mess with him he takes pleasure in punishing you.

“I'm gonna fucking ruin you.”

[elis-corner]

how to get into mcr :D

hi @easilyhateablexx! welcome to a really great band with a mostly great fanbase!

like i said in my comment, there really is no such thing as a poser, but either way, here's my advice for getting into mcr :))

i went a bit overboard here oops, this basically contains everything you need, there's a tldr at the end

albums

First, definitely listen to all the albums, but don't use Spotify. Some songs have really cool transitions (like 'the ghost of you' going into 'the jetset life is gonna kill you') that Spotify cuts out. If you want something that operates basically like Spotify and is free, use YouTube Music. Personally, I'm an Apple Music user, and they keep them in too, but that's a subscription that I'm on a family plan for (I don't know how the price compares to Spotify Premium, but I do know they pay their artists a bit better).

When we say "start with the albums", we mean to start with the four main ones: bullets, revenge, parade, and danger days. Listen to these, get to know them, then explore live albums, unreleased songs, demos, etc..

When I got into mcr, it was through their songs 'mama' off tbp, and 'helena' from tcfsr, so those were the first two albums I listened to. I think tbp is definitely the most iconic for a lot of people, and you'll probably recognise more songs from there. I recommend listening in the order I did (parade, revenge, danger days, bullets), or in their order of release. But anything works, honestly.

once you know those albums, you can listen to:

Conventional Weapons, which is what Danger Days was going to be before they scrapped it.

The Foundations of Decay, which they released after they got back together (they broke up from 2013-2019, released this song in 2022 while they were doing a reunion tour).

The Mad Gear and the Missile Kid, which is described as what the Fabulous Killjoys (see the lore section) listen to.

then you can move onto other songs/demos/covers

fake your death

zero percent

emily

not that kind of girl

party at the end of the world

the five of us are dying

all the angels

bury me in black

desert song

untitled / stay / somebody out there loves you

my way home is through you

kill all your friends

heaven help us

skylines and turnstiles (demo)

knives/sorrow (demo)

cubicles (demo)

i never told you what i do for a living (demo version)

house of wolves (version 1)

house of wolves (version 2)

mama (live demo)

disenchanted (live demo)

under pressure

desolation row

every snowflake is different

all i want for christmas is you

the lore (tw for suicide, death, and cancer, btw)

Each of the albums has lore, to some extent, and you can find videos, posts, websites, etc., breaking down what that lore is in greater detail than I will. But in short:

Bullets has very little lore. You could tie it all together, but it wasn't really intended to be that way. Gerard (the singer and main lyricist) just wrote about his life for the first album, except the last song. The last song, 'Demolition Lovers', is important for the next album, and is about two terrorists who fall in love.

The cover art for Revenge has a painting on it done by Gerard of the previously mentioned Demolition Lovers, and the album is the second part of their story. In short, the Demolition Woman is killed, and the Demolition Man makes a deal with the devil, saying he will kill 1000 evil men if he can be reunited with his lover. At the end of the album, he realises that the last evil man he needs to kill is himself, and the lovers are finally reunited in death.

Parade is much more straightforward to interpret than Revenge is, as in the songs literally just tell you the story. It follow the Patient, a young man dying of cancer, and his interactions with the Parader, who is essentially the grim reaper and leads people to the afterlife. You learn about the lives and deaths of both the Patient and Parader, and how they became who they are.

Danger Days is extremely lore heavy. It's not only the album and music videos, but also a series of comics. At its core, it's a story about a group called the Fabulous Killjoys, fighting against an evil corporation that controls the inhabitants of Battery City. The album is a completely separate storyline to the music videos. The music videos and the first comic, California, tie into each other (California is the sequel to the music videos). The second comic, National Anthem, is what the story was originally, and is barely related to anything else, and isn't really considered canon to the other stories. Danger Days is definitely the most developed storyline here.

There's too much lore to explain for Danger Days, but the characters you need to know are:

Party Poison, Kobra Kid, Jet Star, and Fun Ghoul (the Fabulous Killjoys, each played by a member of the band)

The Girl (a child being protected by the Killjoys)

Dr Death-Defying (a killjoy DJ/reporter)

Korse (a soldier for the evil corporation, Better Living Industries)

all the music videos are awesome, but not all of them have album lore. the ones that do are:

welcome to the black parade

famous last words

na na na

sing

the behind the scenes for each of the videos will tell you more about the lore, too

the members

the core four are Gerard Way, Mikey Way, Frank Iero, and Ray Toro. They can't keep a drummer for the life of them.

Here's some info on each of them.

Gerard/Gee:

Mikey's older brother

Singer

Started the band

Writes comics (e.g. the Killjoys comics, The Umbrella Academy)

Decided to pursue music when he witnessed 9/11 (that's what 'Skylines and Turnstiles' is about)

Is supposedly the inspiration for Edward Cullen

Mikey:

Gee's younger brother

Plays bass

Named the band

Frank:

Rhythm guitarist

Joined the band after everyone else

Has way too many tattoos and has been in way too many bands

His surname isn't Lero, like many people accidentally misinterpret. It's iero.

Ray:

Lead guitarist

Literally a guitar god

One of the first people Gee contacted about the band

if you wanna know more about them, they have a documentary called Life On The Murder Scene, which you can watch for free on YouTube. And definitely look up some interviews, or compilations.

In terms of drummers, they started with Matt Pelisser, who left for unknown reasons, and recorded for Bullets and Revenge.

They then had Bob Bryar, who unfortunately passed away at the end of last year, who recorded for Parade and Danger Days. He also left for unknown reasons, but people usually attribute it to him being rude to Mikey; when he passed, Frank named his declining mental health as a reason. People hate Bob a lot, because once he left the band his only public presence was being quite politically right on social media, which opposes a lot of what the band stands for.

They had a few drummers following Bob who didn't last long, one of whom stole recording equipment from the band, but they've since settled on Jarrod Alexander, who is not an official member but is technically their permanent drummer.

Notably, they also have a keyboardist, James Dewees. Both James and Jarrod have appeared in a lot of other projects with members of MCR.

I'm also gonna put a small note here on shipping: there is a LOT of it in this fandom. To name a few ones you'll see a lot:

Frerard (the main one, Frank and Gerard)

Frikey (Frank and Mikey)

Rayrad (Ray and Gerard)

Gerbert (Gerard and Bert from 'The Used')

Petekey (Mikey and Pete from 'Fall Out Boy')

Waycest (Gerard and Mikey, very frowned upon because they're brothers and have been vocal about hating it, but people do ship it sometimes)

Gynz (Gerad and his wife Lindsey, the bassist of 'Mindless Self Indulgence')

solo projects

Definitely give these a listen!

Gerard has some stuff under his name, as does Ray. Frank has a billion bands I'm not bothered to list (currently he's with LS Dunes the most), and Mikey has Electric Century. They all collaborate with each other on occasion, which is always fun.

I think this is everything??

but in short:

albums in any order, then other songs

read up on lore, but you only really need a basic outline for the album plots to engage with fandom (except maybe for danger days)

music videos are more for fun than for lore

learn a bit about the members, and listen to solo projects if you want

people ask questions all the time, if you google something you don't know, you'll find someone who's already asked it

welcome to the mcrmy :D

[frodo-with-glasses]

More Reading Thoughts: A Conspiracy Unmasked

Ohohoho here we go >:-D

Merry like “hmm, I can tell something’s fishy about this, but we’ll have to talk about it later”

The Brandybucks being described as “virtually a small independent country” is GreatTM X-D

“…as a matter of fact, [the Bucklanders] were not very different from the other hobbits of the Four Farthings. Except in one point: they were fond of boats, and some of them could swim.”

*Phil Dragash Merry voice intensifies* I LOVE BOATS Y’KNOW HOW MUCH I LOVE BOATS SO MUCH I MEAN THEY’RE SO COOL AND BOATY AND THEY FLOAT

Aww, Sam’s already getting a bit homesick :-(

Gollummmm

Frodo: “I mean we already ate, but we could eat again.” Merry: “Say no more, fam”

Frodo seeing Bilbo’s things in the new house and being “sharply reminded” of him :-C Hello it is once again Crying About Frodo and Bilbo O’Clock

BATH SECTION YEAAAAAHHHH

“Which order shall we go in? Eldest first or quickest first? You’ll be last either way, Master Peregrin.” HAHAHA GETTIM FRODO

And Merry like “excuuuuse me, you should know by now that I’m better at planning and logistics than that; there are THREE tubs >8-D”

And Pippin splashing Frodo with the bath water 🤣 This whole section is so stinkin’ CUTE

I, too, cannot properly dry my hair until I am out of the steam in the bathroom. Frodo is the most relatable ever.

Merry has such dad energy 🤣 “You’d better clean up your mess, Pippin, before you get any supper!”

The squabbling over the mushrooms haha

Ooooohh The Talk is here

It honestly makes so much sense that Pippin is the one talking when Frodo refuses to. Frodo is trying to keep secrets, and Pippin has zero filter.

Also Merry reading Frodo like a book is SO GOOD

“You are miserable, because you don’t know how to say good-bye. You meant to leave the Shire, of course. But danger has come on you sooner than you expected, and now you are making up your mind to go at once. And you don’t want to. We are very sorry for you.”

THAT’S MY SMART BOI

I can’t wait to draw this part

“You do not understand! You must go—and therefore we must, too. Merry and I are coming with you. Sam is an excellent fellow, and would jump down a dragon’s throat to save you, if he did not trip over his own feet; but you will need more than one companion in your dangerous adventure.” Awww, Pippin!!

Also the foreshadowing, wow

Hahaha Merry presenting Sam like “TA-DA! Our chief spy!!”

Sam: “Gandalf did say to take someone you could trust, sir!” Frodo: “But I can’t trust anyone, apparently!” Sam: :-C

Oh oh oh it’s this part…!!

“It all depends on what you want. You can trust us to stick to you through thick and thin - to the bitter end. And you can trust us to keep any secret of yours - closer than you can keep it yourself. But you cannot trust us to let you face trouble alone, and go off without a word. We are your friends, Frodo. Anyway: there it is. We know most of what Gandalf has told you. We know a good deal about the Ring. We are horribly afraid - but we are coming with you; or following you like hounds.”

MERRY MY LAD I LOVE YOU TO DEATH

That’s true friendship right there

Frodo like “I am NEVER trusting that you are actually asleep ever again” 🤣

“Three cheers for Captain Frodo and Company!” I’m going to melt 🥹

Merry once again being the G.O.A.T. by having the ponies prepared

“It seems to have been a very efficient conspiracy.” HECK YEAH IT WAS

I love that Fatty has barely talked through the whole chapter except to blurt “NOT THE OLD FOREST” at the very end

Merry continues to have Dad Energy by breaking up the almost-argument between Pippin and Fatty

Oooof the dream about the Sea…

[inkdemonapologist]

Sammy is a bard ,prophet is a cleric , joey is a druid, what does this makes henry and jack?

I feel like you COULD play a version of Sammy Lawrence as a bard, but you'd really have to have to go into it with party dynamics in mind. Because Sammy is PROFESSIONALLY good at being a support role; as much as he complains about Joey, it seems clear to me that he wants someone else to have the big ideas while he uses his genius musical brain to make those ideas work. The specific skill Joey loved in him in TIOL was how good he was at making other people look good. So if you set up Joey or Henry as some sort of dashing hero and Sammy as the bard in the background making him succeed, it'd work. But left to his own devices, Sammy doesn't tend towards the bard's subtlety. He's not the sort to cast charm person, he's the sort to scream at everyone until they leave him alone. He runs in with an axe and zero plan because he's feeling big emotions. He's the least subtle and most gullible man on the planet. I've always seen Sammy as a barbarian whose passion happens to be music.

Joey's the bard. He says a thing that's visibly, provably untrue and contradicts other things that he himself has said and against all odds people believe him. Last time I pondered D&D classes for BatIMs, I think I gave Jack bard or rogue, and Henry either fighter or monk.

But then I realised you mention Prophet, who is only really a separate entity in the Cthulhu AU, so hm! The Cthulhu boys are tough to give D&D classes to, because the whole nature of Call of Cthulhu means that they often don't have "powers" so much as "horrifying things they've learned", so it makes more sense to look at the vibes of what they do than their literal abilities. In terms of how they come across to me, I'd lean more bard and/or some kind of mind powers for Joey, some kind of supporty/healy for Jack, and either late-bloomer magic or some kinda tank class for Henry -- maybe paladin, so then Pointy Henry can be a fallen paladin. But they aren't my characters, so the others would have to weigh in to be sure!

Sammy in Cthulhu AU is absolutely still a barbarian though; his only social skill is Being Very Intimidating, he's the least magical of the four boys, and next to Henry he's the most likely to channel his terror into rage and Just Punch It. Prophet is a little harder to place, because while he does canonically have to beseech his lord for his prophecies like a cleric does for spells, neither of the Sammys are really built for Magic outside of that, and Prophet's actual style of fighting is just a slightly stealthier version of Shepherd Sammy -- so, more Rogue, tbh. If you lean into Vibes instead of what they literally do, then Prophet's vibes more closely match a very loyal warlock -- he is not praying for spells and marching armoured into battle with an array of supportive blessings, he is seeking his patron's will and then sneaking through the shadows to do as he's asked, ignoring the party's needs unless he believes his lord requires him to help them.

[aris-has-a-paracosm]

Hi, FinFault has inspired me to finally tackle a fic idea that I've had for a while! I've never been really good at planning out grand stories but the way your fic plays out and the way you seem to have it planned out really make me want to improve in that regard!

I wanted to ask if you'd be comfortable sharing how you plan your fic out? Do you write a broad overview? Or do something entirely different? No pressure to share though I am just super curious how you do it as I stumble through this myself :D

I love this ask! This is one I really wanted to spend some time thinking about, so after much thought, here's my planning process sort of in the format of "rules" I set for myself while planning stories. I apply this to any long-form story I write, but I will be using the example of FinFault specifically, as well as the plot structure I use:

Always know how your story ends before you even start writing it, and always keep a basic plot structure that you want to follow in mind, but don't restrict yourself in your plot points. I first got the idea that would become Finality's Fault back in mid-April of 2024. My brain gave me a basic premise and a scene to go with it. I then spun those around in my brain for almost a month. By the end of that time, it wasn't quite the same as my original premise, but I had a four act structure with a beginning, midpoint, climax, and end. At the time, I did not know exactly how the ending would happen, but I knew what the ending was, which was good enough of a foundation to build on/build towards. (I later formulated exactly how the ending would happen, around September I think, but because of my pre-established foundation with what it was, I wouldn't need to alter anything about what I'd written and dropped thus far.) All of my other plot points are similar. I have planned events to work towards, but the tiny details of those events don't need to be set in stone before you reach them.

The FinFault plot structure that I use (these differ from story to story, but this is my structure as a reference of how you can use structures): Act I: the Ranchers meet and get to know each other. Site 09 and general premise of the miasma is established. This is purely introductory. Chapter 10 will likely (hopefully) be the last Act I chapter if my word count estimate is correct for the next plot point -> Act II: now that we've established everything, the scope is expanded, new characters and information are introduced, and the Ranchers further develop their relationship -> Act III: new, pivotal information is introduced, but no new characters. This is The Big Turning Point, but I can't elaborate any further on that without spoilers -> Act IV: the pivotal information is acted on, and in combination with everything gained in the previous three acts, the story is wrapped up and concluded.

It's a good idea to keep at least one (if not more) planning document along with your drafting document. Some people will keep everything on one document, and if that works for you, then do that, but that is not viable for me. These are all the documents I use for FinFault alone: (1) planning doc -- all my plot points and chapter titles are in here in bulleted lists as well as important information (such as cyborg ID numbers and which organ each lost and when) I want to keep track of. This is the equivalent of DM notes in DND. (2) Working draft -- This doc is the first draft of every chapter together. This is the only doc that I keep in Times New Roman size 12 font. I also refer to this one as the "typing doc," and I edit absolutely nothing here. (3) Beta read doc -- after I finish each chapter in the working doc, I copy-paste it here, where my beta reader adds her comments. She and I will have full conversations in these comments, but again, there is absolutely zero editing here. (4) Final Formatting -- At the same time as copy pasting a chapter for the beta doc, I also copy paste the chapter to a new, separate doc, where I immediately reformat it as Verdana size 10 font, which is what Ao3 uses. Here is where all of the editing happens, and is my favorite part of each chapter. I will spend hours upon hours editing, and sometimes, certain scenes end up completely unrecognizable from the first draft. (5) Final Compiled -- once I deem a chapter as completely done, I copy paste it into here, where all of the final draft chapters are. The word count of this is almost 10k words longer than the first draft doc (just to show how much difference the editing makes), and the main purpose of it is so I can easily find things if Ao3 happens to be down. (6) Colored Dialogue Final Compiled -- This is the same as #5, but with the dialogue of every character highlighted to a person-specific color (Tango's is red, Jimmy's is blue, etc.). This is so I can keep track of exactly what everyone says, which is crucial for such a lore-heavy fic as this. (7) Deleted scenes -- and finally, we have the deleted scenes doc, which is where I put everything that didn't work. I technically don't need this one, but I like keeping track of what did work and what didn't. So that is 7 documents relating to one chapter. For nine chapters so far, that is 15 documents, with one being added for each and every new chapter. It's a system that works very well for me, and I love using it.

When creating something that does not exist in real life or other media, you can literally make up whatever you want about it, but you MUST adhere to the rules you make in order for it to be believable. Using the miasma as an example: it's a substance that does not exist plain and simple. I reference real scientific concepts with it, but it is 100% my own creation. However, I have flat out stated that solid-state miasma moves fast and with a specific flow pattern on metal. Therefore, now that I have stated that in a finished chapter that others have read, I can never go back on that or describe it in a different way unless I have a very specific reason to do so that will make sense to the narrative.

Try not to retroactively change things if you drop your story chapter by chapter before the whole thing is written. This applies more to my writing style, where I write each chapter, drop each chapter, and then write the next. If you're writing your entire story at once before anyone else sees it, go back and change as much as you want. Of course, this does not apply to misinformation within the plot itself. If a character believes a thing, but that thing isn't true, then that's fine. Don't beat yourself up if you miss something you already included, since everyone is human, but do put an active effort in making sure you're being consistent with what information you tell your readers.

There is no such thing as a consequence-free action. Try to consider human psychology as much as you can. Your characters don't exist in a vacuum of plot points, so they will always need to process previous events even if they're facing current events. If your plot is so fast paced that the characters have no time to think between events, give them the time (and wordcount) to process and deal with the aftermath at an appropriate time later. If an event is momentous enough, your characters will very likely be facing the aftermath or at least referencing said event for the rest of the story. For example, the second half of Chapter 9 is something I only included because Tango and Jimmy could not continue with the plot until they talked about the events of Chapter 8. It wouldn't have been believable at all for both of them to immediately move on and not think about those past events at all.

Get a beta reader if you can, or at least a trusted person you can bounce ideas off of. My beta reader is my best friend and roommate, and I don't know what I would do without her. She has suggested some great fixes to plot holes I used to have, and at times, just the act of talking to her and saying my ideas aloud is enough to help me figure them out myself.

Never ever ever rush yourself. Self-imposed deadlines can be a good motivator, but if you're not satisfied with a scene and need more time to think/edit, don't force yourself to meet that imaginary deadline. Remember that at the end of the day, fic writing is for fun and for yourself. If you're not happy with what you're doing with your own creative project, then don't force yourself through it.

I know this is cliche, but the most important "rule" is to have fun! If your project is something you genuinely love spending time with, it will make your whole life that much more enjoyable. For me at least, Finality's Fault absolutely brightened my year and made 2024 the best year I've had since 2019.

Best of luck to you and your fic! I'm happy to elaborate further on some of these points, and I'd love to experience your story when you're ready to share it! :D <3

[planet4546b]

signoise questions!!! feel free to ignore as many as u want, sorry there are so many i am just very 🙇 (emoji of person leaning on folded arms and looking interested if it doesnt load right- just looked this up and it is actually a person bowing??? i have always parsed it as like a more restrained :eyes: emoji. huh) abt all of the parts its very cool!!!

-decade: have u read the city & the city by china mieville? whatre the inspirations for this if u have any off the top of yr head? was this like a rogue architect (i am thinking of the cartographers without borders post about a flat and level kansas watch out for the 900ft cliff bisecting kansas city post) or was it an official govt project or something?

-twins: i really like the name lariat for a city thats v cool also since theres a bunch of plays, are they all extant in their entireties or is it like a classical texts situation where we have fragmentary records? im really interested in the mixed media part of signoise & how different parts might be told, are u thinking of adding video or audio or anything?

-bell expedition: SO interested in how a caver becomes "disgraced." excited to see a bunch of cave content about the mar.

-pareidolia: a) VERY cool name i love it b) are u going to make the photographs they take?

-pepper's ghost: i dont have a specific q about this one i would just like to register my extreme excitement to see what happens w it.

& i guess just a more general q, do u have a rough idea of what media(s) each story is going to be in? also i am really really liking the name choices youve made for places etc.

i misread bowing as bowling and my confusion about that emoji only grew. but ozzy hi!!! thank you for the questions im gonna try to hit all of them :D

1. i HAVE read the city and the city (really enjoy it) although it ironically inspires a different city on the map (primary and meridian, which is where the playwright stuff mostly takes place). decade’s primary inspiration is pretty explicitly superstudio’s continuous monument, as well as a handful of other postmodern avant- garde architecture concepts, like constant’s new babylon. visually also something like blame, though i have yet to actually read blame i know not by reputation alone. the vibes of it are actually very much that pefectly level kansas post LMAO

decade’s architect is a supercomputer (also known as decade) that produces the plans that the people then construct (also very invisible cities, i’m just blanking on the name of the city itself that’s constantly building). a lot of decade’s story is pure mystery for this reason: how did they build a supercomputer? how and why does it create its plans? what is it building for? why is it that the only records of the city are from decade itself, and next to no records from its citizens exist? what was their form of government, who did decide to build, who led this project? much to uncover!!

2. mairzy finch was a relatively minor playwright during their life, and had one play that really became well known and four or five other less known ones. the bulk of their history is about a massive series of plays that are in fact fragmentary and were all found after their death and are being ‘completed’ and published by almas verrier. so there is a lot of classics to it in how those plays are reconstructed, published, and continually found (and the controversy around all of that), though this is not a project that gains a lot of scholarly attention, its pretty much only verrier and samira that are interested at all.

i would absolutely LOVE to add audio especially to these plays, within my ability as a single creator. although i will likely needle my sibling who used to act to get notes on things like stage and audio design (the entertainment interlude in kentucky route zero is a HUGE inspiration here).

3. quite simply, eric has previously led groups in which multiple members died, and while it is generally understood that that’s a bit of an occupational hazard, the general caving community has concluded those specific deaths could have been avoided if eric was not pushing the group to fuel his own ego. Oops! and glad you’re excited for the cave content because ohohoho so am i!!!!

4. my favorite thing about the name pareidolia is that when i’m researching other things i ALWAYS run into this word and go oh cool and go to its wikipedia page and forget one of the first images on the wikipedia page is a cave formation LOL. and yes i almost definitely will be!! i will at minimum be recreating them via digital art, but i have So many cave photos i can use various ways, and im thinking about getting some cheap ass camera to print physical photos as well. i have in my mind what his most famous photograph is and im so excited to recreate it GAH

5. i’m also SO excited about this one so glad to hear it!!! these two are characters that are close to my heart but have been at the fringes of signoise’s main story for a while, getting to spotlight them is super exciting for me. and there’s some weird late game plot developments with them that are fun. they also are the mechanism for my favorite Samira Realization and a catalyst for her downward spiral. woohoo!

6. the mixed media aspect of signoise is BRAND new and a lot of that i’m still brainstorming to figure out what’s even possible for me to do, but what i do know is the general format for each:

playwright: play scripts and academic papers (possible audio recordings/set plans)

decade: architectural plans, radio transmission transcripts

bell: interviews with bell and everett (god i would love so bad to make and photograph minis for specific cave scenes here)

pareidolia: photographs, research notes (?) i need…something else here but im still figuring out what (largely photo manips and limited animation. hopefully via physical camera)

peppers ghost: radio broadcast transcripts (i have the least wiggle room for other media in here i think, iltheres too much of it to be voice acted via just like dragging in family and friends and it’s pretty limited to radio. but i’ll find something im sure)

and thank you!!! naming things is difficult (the like…7 hours i spent trying to find names for all the new characters. god.) but i have quite a bit of fun with it. i like sounds ^^

[juicezone]

Hi! I have come to use my “ramble about oc’s for free ticket” 🎟️

Mkay so going to talk about the four I drew and posted about today hope you don’t mind :3

Okay so Cassandra first. She definitely dresses up more shall we say risqué when it comes to Halloween. Her and Aqulia (I believe I have mentioned him before to you) always match outfits. Until she gets a little one who wants to dress up and go trick or treating. Then suddenly it’s planning about a hundred different mom and daughter duo costumes.

She drags Spurgeon along because to complete her vision for a costume someone has to play as a wolf.

Spurgeon is the definition of ‘dad who acts like he doesn’t care but cares far too much’ so he puts on this whole air of, I don’t want to come, just you two go, I have xxx to get done. But the moment Cassandra suggests getting someone else to dress up with them he’s suddenly free the whole evening. Cough cough Jealousy cough

And he would commit to playing the role of the big bad wolf, only to fail. Little sheep who just wants her dad. Yeah, there’s like zero fear whatsoever.

Candy bag getting heavy? No problem, just eat the treats as you walk. See? Problem solved.

And yes Zeep has a candy bar. His favorite are Twix. And he had to tag along too though he probably hides in the bag and only pops out once it’s too late for the group to turn back.

Anyways I love them a lot hehe. Fictional mom and dad who I spend way too much time thinking about and I’m kind of embarrassed to share because I never know how to talk about my oc’s

oh my god the planned costumes together i'll admit it makes me so so weak 😭 and pretending he's not interested at all until someone else could join and then being like UH ACTUALLY YK WHAT...

and thats so cute big scary wolf except the little sheep is like ":D HUGS!!" and being carried i love it....

and also im gonna agree w that!! you need the energy to keep going around to other houses too just saying!!! and there was definitely some smuggling into that bag for zeep until the coast was clear and Ohh nooo We're too far from home to turn back... what a shame.... (at least he fits the theme :P!!) also twix are good (<- used to eat them layer by layer |D)

ALWAYS!!! feel free to come ramble to me abt them!! golly knows half the time i post abt Bones its for me and not for my ocs and the other half IS for my ocs. and me also but WAUGH!! OCS AND FICT CGS/PARENTS I LOVE IT!!!! I LOVE THIS!!!!

[all-thestories-aretrue]

I am about 1 million years late to this but thank you for the tag @graphitekayla!!!

Rules: without naming them, post 10 gifs of your favorite shows, then tag 10 people. I'm definitely going to break this rule; you can't give me the opportunity to gush about my faves and not expect me to name them all!!

If anyone has followed me for any length of time none of this will be a shock lmao.

Shadowhunters, and more broadly speaking The Mortal Instruments. My first real fandom!!! I cannot overstate the impact the books and show had on my life. I wouldn't be who I am without it. I have an angelic rune tattoo. Magnus and Alec are some of the first queer characters I remember reading about. I remember where I was when they kissed for the first time in the show. You stupid nephilim lives rent free in my brain. This show (and the books) truly set up the trajectory my life is on now, and I will always always remember it fondly. Even with all the drama and discourse.

2. Critical Role, specifically C2. My first true obsession after the decade long Shadowhunters debacle. I stumbled into it to learn how to play D&D (which I now know is a controversy in and of itself lmao). But my friend @midnightellis wanted us to start a game, and I needed a way to learn that wasn't reading the books, so I started C2. It took 11 or 12 episodes, but then I fell in love. I spent the next almost year watching the entirety of C2 which culminated in visiting them to watch the finale together. I was extremely jetlagged. It was basically 8 amazing hours of nonstop crying. I have zero regrets. Except for the fact I still need to get the tattoo I had planned rip. One day!! I promise!!

3. Arcane!!!! A brief interlude between Shadowhunters and CR. There was about 4 months were I was OBSESSED and watched the entire show like 3 times back to back. I have many thoughts and feelings about Jayce. The show is also just so visually stunning. I cannot wait for S2 to drop in November!!!!!! I know nothing about League but I do really love this show.

4. House. Iconic. What else needs to be said? House is very much a comfort show for me; great to rewatch during the winter. I've watched the entire thing almost three times now, and even got my mom hooked lol. It was fun seeing all her reactions to everything before I moved.

5. If I had known what fandom was when this was airing, I truly would have been all over that shit. But I was 8 and didn't have access to the internet. Aang/Katara def my first otp lol. I did, however, ignore a friend that was over at my house to watch the finale, I believe. I definitely told them to go play so I could watch the show uninterrupted. Needless to say, they were not thrilled with that. I'm 90% sure it was the finale now, but I could be wrong about the episode. ATLA is also another comfort show that I could watch over and over again.

6. Shadow and Bone. I am still SICKENED this got canceled. Genya and David are the ultimate romance, and no one will convince me otherwise. I almost stopped reading when I found out his fate. I was devastated. Everyone in this show is also very pretty. I can't believe we won't get a s3.

I'm going to stop here because this is already long enough, and tbh I'm not sure I actually have four more shows. I can only be obsessed with one thing at a time, and the current obsession is Path of Night. And that does not seem to be waning any time soon.

Edit: Lost should 100% be on this list. I think I've watched it at least four times. My family and I watched it live as it was airing when I was a kid. And it still is one of my favorite shows. I know people got beef with the ending but I truly didn't mind it. Even if it's bad or whatever, I think Lost is still 100% worth watching. There are so many little hints and clues that I pick up something different every time, and each character death hits just as hard.

I'm going to tag: @gelatinouscute, @peppedstep, @midnightellis, @discordkittenterumi, @im-a-vampire-now, @zeena-athena , @syntia13treeman , @sapphicfugue , @dr-thumbs-brand-new-spot

If you want to do this :)

[malcolm-reeds-pineapple]

I managed to convince my family to play D&D with me and by that I mean I held a gun to everyone’s heads and told them to play D&D with me. I am by no means experienced with D&D, however I’m committed to the bit and I just got the essentials kit.

Last time I played D&D with my family (my mom, grandmother and brother), I made the mistake of making everyone a character and handing it to them on the day of to avoid a boring session 0. This time, I’ve entirely changed my approach.

Nanny is playing a sidekick and I’ve built her a modified character sheet that walks her through everything for combat along with 3 parking spots for her dice that tell her which ones she uses and when. Due to sidekick rules, it’s also very easy for me as the DM to play her character during combat if she doesn’t want to. She’s 80 years old and I’m lucky I’ve gotten this far. Because she’s playing a sidekick, she also has different rules than the others which makes it easy for me to explain to the other players why nanny can do something but they can’t (however, I’ve gone over it with my other players in their session zeros and they agree that 80 years is long enough on the planet to bend the rules in dungeons and dragons).

Individualized session zeros. Where I’m working with two brand new players and one player who has played one singular campaign, I’ve found it’s easier for me to have 3 short session zeros for each player rather than needing to have an entire afternoon of a session zero that would 100% make everyone lose interest. For my brother (experienced and interested), our session 0 was character creation where we worked together on a backstory for his character and went over anything he was unclear on in terms of game mechanics. I gave him a brief summary of the world and he was able to craft ways of how he could have depth in his character. That session was about four hours long. Meanwhile, Nanny’s session 0 was 15 minutes long and I had her pick out a sidekick card and then went over the basic game mechanics with her.

Introducing NPCs that allow me to run goofy one shot adventures when not all players are present. We’re running Dragon of Icespire Peak at the moment, but my mom isn’t always around as she lives five hours away. However, my brother and Nanny like the game and would prefer to play more frequently. By introducing a few goofy NPCs in the main town, I’ve been able to have those goofy one shots without breaking the immersion in the world/confusing my nanny. The one-shots loosely tie into the story, but they’re mostly about getting my nanny more comfortable with the game. They have absolutely no levelling or consequences and are more about interaction and role playing.

I’ve also given them each a character folder so that they can keep their stuff all in one place and I can give their characters things before sessions. So for the first session, I had my brother’s character own an incomplete map of the area that was given to him by his mentor. I made sure it was folded to show the area where the characters were on the map but then had a full map of the area be a reward for helping the goofy NPCs I added for one shots. Players were also each given a notebook and a combat cheat sheet in their folders. I take these back at the end of the session so I can see their notes and plan my next session around what they liked enough to take notes on.

I already kinda touched on this but holy shit hand outs and physical props my beloved. So far my players have LOVED getting letters from NPCs or getting an actual map that looks like it’s aged and been through the wringer. For their next quest, they’ll be getting a set of sending stones, so I’m going to the beach before the session to pick out some nice stones that I can give them to actually have a physical representation of them so that way the cards can just be instructions to go along with them.

I’ve also colour coded each one of my characters based on their folder colour so I have a highlighter, pen, page flag, and index card colour associated with each one of them. That allows me to have their race/class/background flagged in my PHB or write down backstory notes on their index cards. They also each have a page in my OneNote workbook affiliated with them just by colour. It’s made things super easy

I’ve put their character sheets in plastic sleeves so they can track HP/spell slots with a dry erase marker.

So far these things are working well. It’s definitely hard to keep engagement, but at least this time I’ve been able to kinda do it. I did all this with a budget of 15 bucks at the dollar store and with shit I had around the house, so I’m not spending money on it either which is nice. Granted, I do have access to a printer and a shitload of craft supplies, so that’s made it a lot easier.

[cryptidsurveys]

Thursday, May 29th, 2025.

Have you ever had a pet turtle before? I haven't.

Do you still sleep with your parents when you’re scared sometimes? No.

Have you ever met someone with two different color eyes? I've never met a person with two different colored eyes, but we did have a cat at the shelter like that, as well as a dog.

Have you ever felt like someone was following you? Not seriously, but sometimes it jokingly feels that way when I'm toodling along "the backroads" on my way home and someone behind me keeps taking all the same turns. Like, did my dad send out someone to spy on me to make sure I'm driving safely? ;D

How many surveys on average would you say you’ve done in your lifetime? Oh gosh, I'm not sure. I've been taking them (not always consistently, but off and on) since I was in high school and I'm 36 now, so…maybe around 10,000? Maybe more?

What color shirt are you wearing at the moment? I'm wearing a black t-shirt and a pine green sweater.

Do you enjoy going school shopping? I'm not in school anymore, but yesss.

Do you think Pug dogs are adorable or just plain ugly? I don't think they're ugly, but the traits they've been bred for cause a lot of health problems.

Have you ever met someone who completely resembled their pet? I haven't.

Has anyone ever knitted you something before? My mom's roommate recently crocheted me several cat hats. I'm wearing one of them right now. :')

What was the worst substance you’ve spilled on yourself before? Ooh, when liquid leaks out from the trash bags at the shelter, you tell yourself it's something from the breakroom. For your sanity, ofc.

Have you ever made out with more than one person in one night? No.

What three words would describe the person you love?

Do you think there is a soulmate out there for everyone? There's probably "someone" out there for most people, in the sense that they would be reasonably compatible and happy together; but no, I don't believe in soulmates or the idea that there's someone meant just for me.

Do you like short or long surveys the best? Somewhere between 30-50 questions is preferrable.

Do you think hairspray is more helpful or annoying? I haven't used hairspray for years. I have a gel that I use currently.

Have you ever bought fake money and tried to make it pass for real? No.

Are your siblings nice the majority of the time?

How many uncles do you have? Four. One on my dad's side and three on my mom's side.

What would you say is the worst movie you’ve ever seen? Lol maybe this ridiculous and somewhat p*rn*graphic Lord of the Rings parody I rented for a cabin stay with my mom and a friend when I was in middle school (or around that timeframe). We didn't realize it was so…X-rated. ;D

Do you freak out when a thunderstorm comes along? Nooo. I absolutely love thunderstorms.

What is something you’d consider yourself obsessed with? Wanting to know the nature of God / reality. The process of trying to change a certain behavior. Food.

How often do you shower? Twice on animal shelter days - in the morning while getting ready and after returning home. Sometimes not at all during my days off, but at least once if I have therapy or if I'm planning on going somewhere that makes me feel like a shower is necessary.

Have you ever had to sell something for a school fundraiser? Yeah.

What is the absolute worst thing about high school? I missed a lot of school, so probably the anxiety and awkwardness over late work, falling behind, catching up, etc. Also, boredom and loneliness.

How many sodas do you usually drink in one day? Zero.

What kind of cheese do you like the most? Pepperjack, sharp cheddar, Swiss.

Have you ever met someone who was completely weird all-around? Not completely weird, but had some weird traits, sure. Not that that's necessarily a bad thing. Sometimes weird is good.

Have you ever met an anorexic pregnant woman? No.

What is your favorite lyric of all time? I don't have one.

Do you know someone who has made their Xbox their best friend basically? I know people who are into gaming, but I don't think I know anyone who is unhealthily addicted to it.

Do you ever watch any soap operas? Naw.

Have you ever met someone who was mean to everyone? I don't think so.

If you had to get a tattoo, what would it be? Maybe something involving the Sefirot / tree of life.

If you have any piercings, who did them? I no longer remember the name of the shop where I got my snakebites.

Do you usually have a low tolerance for pain or high tolerance? I guess it depends on the type of pain.

Do you give into peer pressure easily? Again, it depends on the type of pressure. It's easier to resist or say no to some things than others.

Have you ever simply looked at someone & could tell they were homosexual? Or, at the very least, assumed they were not likely to be straight.

Do you have the ability to read someone without even knowing them? My intuition is shit because it's corrupted by my own baggage.

Would you rather eat or sleep? Depends on whether I'm hungry or tired? But even if the two happen to coincide, I can always grab a quick bite before attempting to sleep.

Are you one of those die hard Twilight or Harry Potter fans? I was a pretty big Harry Potter fan when I was younger, and I did enjoy Twilight, but no, I wouldn't say I was a diehard fan of either.

Have you ever cried while watching a movie trailer? Possibly.

When was the last time you changed your hairstyle? Mid-March of this year. I did just get my hair cut again yesterday, but I went back to the same style I got in March.

Do your parents ever force you to talk to your grandparents? Maybe they had me talk over the phone or something.

If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Cornflower or goldenrod.

Do you think long surveys are boring or entertaining? Even when the questions are interesting, long surveys eventually make me feel like my brain is turning to mush.

Have you ever learned that someone had lied to you all along? Yeah.

When was the last time you had a physical injury? I bashed my toe a few weeks ago. The injury is barely noticeable to me now, but sometimes it feels a bit weird or I'll lean on it wrong and that causes a bit of pain.

Have you ever wanted to be a lawyer? Naw.

Have you ever had to bail someone out of jail before? I haven't.

Is there anyone in your immediate family who was adopted? No.

Do you know anyone who doesn’t have any common sense? No.

When was the last time you bought something? Earlier this morning. My dad and I went grocery shopping. We were also supposed to go to the mountain park today, but it was raining and I wasn't feeling the greatest.

Do you think you look anything like your parents? A bit.

Who is the skinniest person you know? Is it because of a disease? Heather. I don't know the reason behind it.

Do you know someone who insults themselves to get attention? No.

Is this year the best one you’ve had so far? Last year and the year before that felt better. I felt like I was making more progress. 2025 hasn't been a bad year exactly, but it has had its rough moments and overall it feels more stagnant. I've also regressed somewhat in terms of my eating disorder. In general, I think things are starting to feel a bit better, though…maybe…?

What are your plans for this weekend? Saturday - none. Sunday - maybe another chance to visit the mountain park.

What color is your significant other’s hair?

Have you ever applied for a job at Walmart before? I haven't.

Do you know anyone who does drugs currently? Depends on what you consider a drug, but probably.

Would you ever become a foster parent? Naw.

Are you ashamed of anyone in your family? No.

What jobs do your parents have? They're retired.

Would rather talk to someone on a landline or a cell phone? If I have to actually speak to them instead of text, then it doesn't matter, it's all the same to me.

Have you ever had a Tumblr account? Are you devoted to it? I've had quite a few of them over the years. I think I made my first account sometime around 2009.

Has anyone ever given you a psychiatric assessment? Yeah.

If you got pregnant right now, would you abort the baby? I have no idea what I would do.

Speaking of which, are you for or against abortion? I'm pro-choice.

What is your favorite amusement park?

What was the best Christmas gift you’ve ever gotten? I'm not sure.

Has anyone ever called you jealous of them before? Idk.

Did you ever have braces? Yeah. I went through a lot of orthodontic work in my childhood and teenage years.

Who is your favorite actor or actress?

What is the most important date in your life so far? Hard to say which date had the most impact.

How many people your age do you know who are pregnant? I don't know anyone who is currently pregnant.

What is cuter: kisses on the forehead of the cheek? Forehead.

Do you believe in evolution or creation?

Would you rather take a bath or a shower? Shower.

What group would you say you’d normally fit into the most? I have no idea. I think I'd feel like an outsider regardless of the group.

As a child, what game did you want to play the most? Candyland, Trouble, Monopoly, Life, Parcheesi, etc.

Does it bother you when people touch your personal items? Depends on why they're doing it and how they're going about it.

When was the last time you did something sexual?

Where was the last place you went on vacation? Not exactly a "vacation," but the last place I traveled to was Georgia.

Do you collect anything? What? No.

What kind of Pringles do you like the most? Pizza, bbq, sour cream & onion.

Are you better at hand-drawing things or painting? Digital painting.

Have either of your parents ever called you a failure before? No.

What do you think is the grossest taste in the world? Wouldn't call them the grossest tastes in the world, but I'm not a fan of fishiness or seaweed.

[ahiddenpath]

Creating News/Status

Help I have too many projects on the brain D: Info beneath the cut, if you're interested.

Puits d'Amour

I have about 2.5 updates worth of written content remaining from Nanowrimo 2022. Only 1 of these updates can be posted soon-ish, because I need to add material in between the next chapter and the one after that (basically I think I need to write a new chapter in the middle to cover some stuff that occurred to me post Nanowrimo).

My next update will be Kido-Sensei. After that, there will likely be some kind of pause to PdA. I'm not sure for how long.

Tri: Integrity Lens

I have one chapter that's looking quite good! It has a ton of Yamato, a truly lovely scene with Yamato and Takeru, and then some Yamato and Koushiro. I love writing characters together who don't interact as much in canon, so I'm really looking forward to this chapter, and I think it's great.

After that, I've got about 10k ish of bits and bobs, a third of a chapter here, a scene there.

Four Years and Four Years edits

There is literally zero progress on this, whomp whomp.

Infinite Possibilities

This upcoming story has three phases, and one is entirely planned (!!!!!). I worked on it a lot in 2020 after the initial Kizuna feels, then... Um... Forgot about it? Left it? More about this here, here, and here! It’s a story that begins before Kizuna and explores the aftermath.

Super Secret Project

I meant to publish this in October 2022, but too much was happening and too much continued to happen and it's almost a year later and THERE IS. STILL. TOO MUCH.

Usually I spill the beans waaay too early- see fic the announcement from February 2020 above that has not come to pass lmao- but I somehow managed to keep this one quiet! I probably shouldn't be this impressed with myself for not blabbing to my blog, lmao xD

So basically, it seems like I will update PdA next, then TIL, and then...

I have no idea. None.

I also have a lot of art to do. I want to make a piece for the 02 countdown event, Jyou week, and- Oh uh, right, um. I'm hosting a Koushiro week in October. And I should. Probably. Have. Content for that.

Basically, I can't promise anything right now, and I'm not even sure what my Nanowrimo project will be, or if I'll... Well, tbh, I'm not sure how viable Nanowrimo is this year? I was thinking I could write the first phase of Infinite Possibilities for Nanowrimo 2023, since it's planned and I... Don't have PdA or TIL planned out in detail. I guess I could use the remaining time until Nanowrimo planning one of them? Maybe I should do a um poll?

I have no idea... If you have a preference, let me know!

[caughtthedarkness93]

Endlessly, this. I see a ton of people in the tabletop space trying to bend D&D to do things that it's not designed to do when there are systems that are not only designed to do that, but are actually more straightforward in their mechanics and easier to learn. Fate's a really good one! In addition, it's setting-agnostic, so you can flavor it for any setting and genre. One of the big issues with hacking D&D is it's very specifically designed for zero-to-superhero campaigns in a soft magic, high magic setting reminiscent of Lord of the Rings, and if you try to do something that is not that, you wind up chopping out or aggressively modifying a lot of its inherent design. Like Dimension 20 and Critical Role are great, but they're also run by a bunch of people who are absolutely stellar improv artists and have been involved in those spaces for years. The 5e rules aren't doing the heavy lifting there, the players are. If you want to do something that's not that, there are so many easier and smoother ways.

A few favorites of mine:

• City of Mist - designed to do urban fantasy noir, heavy emphasis on character. You play a Rift, essentially an avatar of a mythical figure that is, in some way, in conflict with your normal life. Your mythos gives you supernatural abilities. So you could play an upright legislator with a background in law who is a rift of Robin Hood for a character focused on the conflict between law and justice. Your character's stats are determined by tags - essentially a set of four categories that represent aspects of your character's mundane life or mythos, each with three traits. When a trait is relevant, you can add it to your roll. So our Robin Hood lawmaker might be able to use his public speaking skills to negotiate a hostage situation, or convince a greater threat to stand down, or give a long-winded filibuster-style rant to stall for time. I love this system so much and am bummed that I've barely gotten to play it.

• Savage Worlds - setting agnostic, really well-suited to pulpy action-adventure stuff like Indiana Jones. Your skills are tied to a specific type of dice - so you may have a D6 to hack a computer, or a D10 to look at a map and know where you're going. Usually your goal is 4, but the GM can add modifiers to increase or decrease the difficulty. The real fun part is that when you roll max on a die, it explodes. You roll it again, and if it rolls max again, it explodes again. Keep going until it doesn't. Every 4 you get over your initial target is basically a crit. You can get ludicrously high rolls in this system, and though it has grid-based combat, it's designed to specifically be simple and fast-paced. This is my go-to system when I run a game that I suspect will involve lots of fights because it makes them interesting and dynamic, without bending the game's whole design around them like D&D does, and without using the whole attrition-based rules that D&D has that kind of necessitate several encounters per day. Combat can be a little swingy, but is weighted in favor of the players most of the time.

• Blades in the Dark - designed for dark steampunk fantasy heists. This one's a really interesting one because it's very heavily tied to its setting, but there's also a really good core mechanical engine under the hood. The downside of Blades is that by the time you've hacked it to create a new setting, you've borderline created a whole new system, but the upside is that it gave rise to a whole RPG design movement of Forged in the Dark (FITD) games, and if you want to use the Blades rules to play in a specific genre, someone's already made that. The upshot of this game is that it's purpose built to run a heist game, and there's two phases to it - the mission itself, where you have a resource called stress that lets you do flashbacks to have figured out how you planned for an obstacle the whole time, or Resist a GM's consequence (i.e. when the GM says something bad happens, you can say "Fuck you, no it doesn't") and use special abilities. Then there's Downtime, the time between missions, where you can get ahold of new resources, work off the stress you built up last mission by indulging in a vice, and try to cool off some of the heat from that last mission. It's an ingeniously designed game with a lot of systems that play together really well. Highly recommend giving it a look.

And this just scratches the surface! There's games like Fabula Ultima, which is going for a real fantasy JRPG vibe and does a lot of really cool things with it; Delta Green, which has you as an agent of a shady American spy outfit that investigates the supernatural and where you stay sane by leaning on your relationships with others, but risk damaging those relationships at the same time; millions of really cool systems out there that do amazing things in the space. D&D is what a lot of people know, but it's also a system with massive limitations and a corporate owner that I've seen act highly irresponsibly too many times to want to support any longer. Go see what cool things people have created - I promise you will not regret it. There's nothing stopping you from coming back to D&D if you decide that's what you want to play, but what do you have to lose by trying something new that could be tailor-made to play the campaign you've always wanted to play?

Saw a post that op turned off reblogs on about how a lot of people think DnD 5e is a great system for rp over combat and uh hey y'all

If you want a game system for more structured improv, 5e ain't it. DnD is very combat driven, despite what Dimension 20 and other such shows may lead you to believe.

If you genuinely want a ttrpg system designed with More Structured Improv Roleplay in mind, I'm gonna suggest you go ahead and pick up the FATE Core Rulebook. The system is all about telling a story and the mechanics it has make such clear.

Your character creation process is essentially "What is my character's job, their biggest problem, a facet of themselves from their backstory, and a couple tie ins to the rest of the party?" And then you allocate a few stats and you're basically done.

DnD is great, truly it is. But the story you can tell is extremely restricted by your ability to understand the rules and bend/break them appropriately in ways that don't fuck up the entire system, which takes so much more effort than the average person is usually willing to put in. It's very much genre locked, and taking it out of that high fantasy genre in a way that's fun for you AND your players is a lot harder than people like Brennan Lee Mulligan make it look.

Go pick up FATE. It is not genre dependant. It's all about flavor, and failing forward, and saying, "But your character was literally raised in a barn, don't you think it'd make sense for them to really bomb this conversation with a noble?" and having that actually be a fun mechanic.

If you want to see the system in action, the Nebula Jazz series by ItMeJP on YouTube should do you just fine. It's a Guardians Of The Galaxy-esque campaign with a heavy Music theme laid over top of it. It also features the producer of Monster Prom, Jesse Cox, if that helps.

There are other systems outside of DnD. Your idea might be better suited for one of them. Please. Please look in to other systems before trying to force the rules of DnD 5e to conform to your vision.

[lovingperfectionsblog]

The Dreaded Question

Carlos Sainz Jr x Reader

Summary: The classic, would you love me if I was a worm?

Warnings: Drinking, mentions of death, mentions of the Devil and God, mentions of tentacle porn. 

Word Count: 1067

Author's note: A silly little drabble about a silly little scene based off of THE QUESTION :D. Forgive me for jumping onto this bandwagon.

If you enjoyed this post, please consider supporting my work with a small donation! 

Donate: https://ko-fi.com/littlemisstoomuch

Please do not ever feel obligated to donate! Just the thought of you reading, liking, commenting or reposting my work is the best support I could ever ask for!

______________________________________________________________

“Baby, before you go” Carlos called out to you from the lounge, a very heated and very drunken discussion between him, Charles, Lando and Pierre taking a quick pause, “I have a super important question to ask you!” There was complete silence other than your high heels clicking across the floor as they waited for you to enter. 

“You need to be quick, I’m five minutes away from being late to meet Lewis” you busied yourself, getting your purse ready for a night out of drinks with one of your oldest friends. 

“You’re dressed like that to meet Lewis?” The question hadn’t come from your boyfriend, but instead his best friend in the form of little Lando.

“Is that your question?” Carlos knew that you were actually asking was if he was genuinely allowing his friends to question how you were dressed to meet one of your oldest friends for drinks, but the quick shaking of his head and a kick to Lando’s knee was an indication that it was by no means what he had wanted to ask at all. 

In response, you nodded and continued to look around for your keys, patiently waiting for the question. It was not even close to what you had expected. You’d expected a questioning of where you were going for the evening, what time you were getting home, what were your plans for the rest of the weekend, anything, but not, 

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?” 

You stopped your rifling and just stared at your boyfriend, all four of the boys looking back at you, waiting for your answer in anticipation. 

“Would I still love you if you were a worm?” You repeated his question, all four nodding in response as if you were addressing the collective, “No, I would not.” Your answer clearly displeased the lot of them, a look of hurt across your boyfriends and a look of anger across the others. 

Before any of them could even begin to protest, you held up your hand to stop them, “this is not a conversation you want to get into with me.” You made your way over to the kitchen table, an attempt to look for your wallet now too, convinced your keys would be with it. 

“This is the exact conversation I want to get into with you” Carlos' voice seeped in pain. 

“Yeah, why wouldn't you love him if he was a worm?” It was Charles' turn to interject into the dynamics of your relationship this time, and truthfully, you were surprised it wasn’t Lando, he always had something to say in defense of Carlos. 

“Well, because he’d be a worm, he wouldn’t be a cognizant thing, how do I love something I can have absolutely zero interaction with?” You thought this would all be obvious, but judging by the looks on all their faces, this answer was not a good enough explanation, “and if you were a cognizant being, like I could talk to you, then god no, that would be even worse, because then we’d have to have the conversation around like, tentacle porn, and worse, and did you know a worms entire skin is basically a mucus membrane, and did you know salt hurts them, do you know what our skin secretes? Salt. So no, I would not love you if you were a worm.” Although your reasoning was entirely sound, and none of them could truly fight you on it, there still looked like there was some damage control that needed to be done, Carlos turning away from you, a clearly hurt look on his face. 

“But, can I answer the actual question?” Carlos cocked his head, the only response he was going to give.

“What actual question?” That was the exact answer you had wanted to hear, albeit it came from a confused Pierre. 

“Well, Carlos isn’t asking me if I would love him if he was a worm, what he’s actually asking me is, if he felt like he was nothing, if he had nothing to offer other than exactly who he was, all the dark, nitty gritty parts of who he is, would he still be enough for me, would I still choose to love him?” the silence urged you on, all of them waiting to hear what your response would be to this. 

“And my answer would and always will be, that God himself could come down right now and whisk me away and tell me that he is going to give me a thousand full lives, of nothing but utter joy and peace for me to experience, but I’d never be able to see you again-” you’d made your way to stand just behind the couch that Carlos sat on, his eyes boring into your own, “-and I would spend the rest of my days hunting the Devil himself down, and on hands and knees beg him to take my soul and every single second of every single one of those lives in exchange for just one last day with you” you carded your fingers through his hair, eyes never leaving his, “So no, I would not love you if you were a worm, but I would love you for every second the Devil himself ripped apart my soul in the very depths of hell.” 

“It’s unfair, you’re a writer” you couldn’t help the laugh that ripped out of you at your boyfriends quiet words. 

“I’m late, I’ll see you,” you showed the keys as you began to leave the room, “behave and have a good night!” you shouted out through your giggles as they could do nothing other than watch the door close behind you. 

“Can we all agree to never mention her answer to anyone, because I am not sure I could top that one” Pierre was the first to speak after you’d left. 

“I warned you that this is what you were gonna get for dating a writer” Lando just chuckled out. 

“Can’t wait to hear the warning you’re going to give me when I tell you I’m going to propose to her next week” Carlos had finally stopped looking at the door and instead was now addressing Lando directly, mimicking the grin on his friends face as Lando realized what he was saying, his friends laughter only getting louder. 

“Your vows are gonna fucking suck compared to hers.”  

_______

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[foxilayde]

Half Of You (Part 4) [Santiago Garcia x Fem!Reader]

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. mentions of infidelity, cursing, innuendo, mentions of pregnancy.

Summary: A couple of friends drop by and stir the pot. Or the pitcher, rather.

A/N: Thanks so much for sticking with this slow-burn series, team. Sorry for the late update, life has been sort of chaotic at the moment. Hope you enjoy and I plan to update sooner for the next chapter. Much love 💚

Santi may have been right. This may have been too big of a task for you to do by yourself. You did get all the pieces of your plant bench out of the box and on the floor of the patio, grouping all the similar lengths of untreated wood together. And you even peeled off all the little stickers! Each piece had a little sticker on with a letter on it, and you assumed it had been for the factory worker’s benefit— to put 5 slats of A wood and 4 slats of b-length wood etcetera etcetera in to each box… it was only when you were reading the directions you realized the stickers were there to help YOU, the assembler, determine what piece went were. So you sat on the patio, staring at the now unlabeled wood pile, a tiny stack of peeled useless stickers, and a little booklet telling you to attach four slats of B to one slat of D and having no fucking clue which is which. 

You cringe outwardly and drag your hand down your face. Santi is never going to let you live this down. He’s definitely going to bring this up in any future DIY endeavor, “yeah but remember the time with the stickers?” dammit. You cut your losses, resigned to the fact that Santi is going to have to help you with the plant bench, if not build it himself. You’re lucky he’s busy wacking his lawn at the moment and not sitting on the porch swing watching you make a fool of yourself. 

It’s hot outside and you know that if you’re getting heated in the shade of your patio while doing zero physical activity (besides mentally kicking yourself), Santi must be sweltering in the Florida sun with his long sleeves, work gloves, wrap-around sunglasses, and ear protectors (which your pretty sure double at the gun range). You abandon the plant bench and go inside to make him (and yourself) some blackberry lemonade. 

——————

“Knock, Knock, telegram!” 

Renatta lets herself in through your open kitchen door, setting down a thick manilla folder on the counter where you’re mottling the lemon rinds. 

“Hey! Come in! I’d give you a hug but my hands are covered in sugar. Have a seat.”

“Oooh whatcha making?” She seats herself at a barstool, leaning on the counter, and plucks a washed blackberry from the colander. “Something sweet?” She asks through a mouthful of fruit.

“Blackberry lemonade.” She takes a small handful of the blackberries into her palm and pops another into her mouth. “If you keep eating them though, it’s just going to be plain lemonade.” 

“You need any help?” 

“Sure! You can take that press right there and juice the berries for me. If there are any left, that is.”

“Oh hush. You making lemonade for Santiago?”

“Yeah. How’d you know?”

“Girl I don’t need a law degree to figure that out. There’s a hunky sweaty man in your front yard wacking the fuck out of your weeds. Of course you’re making him lemonade.” 

She makes her way over to the sink to wash her hands. “Damn. Speaking of sweet….” You look up at Renatta and she’s staring out the kitchen window with a glazed stare and an eyebrow raised. You follow her gaze through the window to the front yard where Santi is bent over, denim ass on display, fruitlessly pulling the engine starter on his old gas powered lawn mower. 

“Renatta!” You laugh and flick some sugar at her fuchsia tank top. 

“What!” She laughs in mock defense, putting the berries in the press. “We better hurry up with this lemonade because it’s getting hot out there, if you catch my drift.”

You smile and shake your head combining the sugared lemon rinds and piths together. You nod your head toward the manilla folder. 

“Are those the papers?”

“Oh, you mean Santiago’s baby daddy waivers? Yes those are them.”

“That’s the legal term for it huh?”

“Girl I do not understand why you’re not just in a relationship with that man. He’s obviously in love with you.” She catches the juice from the press into a clean mason jar.

“Uh huh.” You’ve heard this before. From Renatta mostly. You separate the lemon mixture with a cheese cloth, squeezing the sugared rinds and lemon piths into a pitcher. 

“Sorry, am I supposed to be keeping up with this friendship façade y’all have going? None of my business, I know. This,” she points to the folder, “Just seems a little extra.”

“Extra?!”

“Yeah, but thats okay, girl, you’re a little extra and that’s alright. It’s cute.”

“I’m extra?”

“Asks the woman sugaring lemon rinds for the man she’s not in love with. Okay, sure. You ever heard of Country Tyme Lemonade, Vin? Quick and easy, delicious lemonade in seconds. I know you got a can of it somewhere.”

“If you have a problem with the rinds, you’re really going to have a riot when I add the fresh Basil at the end.”

Renatta gives a full belly laugh and claps you on the shoulder. 

“Hows work going by the way, Ren?”

“Oh you know, same old shit with Warren. Motherfucker has such a problem with me taking a Saturday off. He makes me so mad, you know he asked me to get him coffee the other day? Coffee. Said it like, ‘Renatta would you get me a coffee, hun. You know how I like it.’”

“Ew, you’re kidding.”

Renatta shakes her head. “He treats me like a paralegal, swear to God. I can’t wait till I start my own firm. You know I have fantasies about going against him in court? Long, detailed fantasies. Ohh I can’t wait till the day comes.”

“That’s right, Ren, take it out of the berries.”

Renatta pours the blackberry juice into the pitcher of lemon juice, the color swirls beautifully and you go to the freezer for your ice trays.

“Santiago was so cute when he showed up at the office to sign the papers. He was in a lil tucked-in button down, lookin like a ken doll.”

“Oh?”

“Mmmhmm, didn’t even read em, just signed on the dotted line…”

“Okay…”

“What’s his story by the way?”

You stir in the ice cubes “Why? are you interested?”

“Please. As much as you don’t like to hear it, that man is whipped for you and you alone.”

You nod noncommittally and add tap water to the pitcher.

“It’s just, as long as I’ve known you two, for what? over a year now? he’s been single. What’s his story.” 

You turn off the tap and look up to your front yard where Santiago is pushing the mower in precise lines up and down your lawn and your heart surges with appreciation. 

“He wasn’t always single.”

“Proceed.”

“Okay, counselor… haha, I feel like I’m being interrogated!”

Renatta narrows her eyes over pointed hands and says in a shitty Russian accent, “I have ways of making you talk.”

“It’s not some big secret or anything, I doubt he’d care if I told you… When Jay and I moved in,” 

Her eyes go softer when you mention Jay’s name, the way that people’s eyes always go soft, like you might burst into tears at the lovelorn memories of your late husband. You turn to the cabinet to grab some glassware so you don’t have to endure it.

 “When we moved in, Santiago was living with his girlfriend…. Fiancee, actually, after they came back from that trip to Hawaii, they were engaged… god that was so long ago.” 

You pretend to debate on the glasses while you recount the tale.

 “The four of us were really close actually. Game nights, sports events, double dates, you name it. Bee and I were close like Santi and Jay were, you know? Well you don’t know, but we were close, like, to the point we talked about combo-ing the backyards into a ‘super backyard’ with a huge pool and deck area,” you laugh at the thought. “It was never serious-serious plans but it was an ongoing thing… the four of us would tack on grander and more insane plans for the Super Backyard, like waterslides and a pizza oven, and… so dumb really… It was a few months before Jay passed, Santi and Bee had this big fight, I think the whole neighborhood heard it.” 

You turn around with the glassware and set them on the counter in front of Renatta, she’s still giving you that soft eyed look but you think it’s not for your benefit this time. You pour her a glass of the purple lemonade and slide It over to her. She cups it in her hand but she doesn’t drink.

“And then?”

You glance behind you to make sure Santiago is safely out of earshot with his earmuffs on. 

“Bee was pregnant. And… the baby wasn’t his.”

“No.”

“Yeah.”

“Damn, that’s tragic.”

“Oh it gets worse.”

“Girl…”

“She was cheating on him with his brother.”

“Fuuuuck.” Renatta lets go of the glass completely and cringes at the news. 

“Yeah. He found out, or she told him, or her brother told him, I don’t know, he doesn’t like to talk about it.” 

You glance over your shoulder again to make sure Santi is still in the yard, working diligently. 

“Shit. Poor Santiago.” She stares out at him in the yard as well.

“Poor Santiago… Bee is married to him now, Santi’s brother. I got an invite to the wedding.” You cringe and Renatta’s jaw drops. 

“Did you go?”

“Of course I didn’t go! I stopped being friends with her… I just couldn’t see her the same way.”

“I don’t blame you.”

“She reached out after Jay passed but I ignored her… I was ignoring a lot of people at that time though, you know? I do see all of Bee’s updates on facebook, the baby pictures, the family barbecues… Santi doesn’t talk to his family anymore, doesn’t go to the holidays, nothing. They all supported his brother, especially his parents who are just thrilled to have a grandchild.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah… don’t tell him I told you? Huh? I mean, I don’t think he’d care that you knew, it’s just—“

Renatta locks her lips with the tips of her fingers “Attorney/client confidentiality, Vin.”

“Thanks. Oh I almost forgot!” You snag a few leaves of basil from your windowsill herb garden and toss a sprig into each poured glass.

“Thank god you remembered.”

“Shut up.” You roll your eyes at her, taking a glass of lemonade outside to Santiago. He’s clipping the hedges at the front of your yard. Its fucking hot out and the sweat from his back sticks to his t-shirt in a wet v-shape. You gently press the icy glass to the back of his golden, sweat-beaded neck. 

“Aaaahahahaa…” Santi smiles and leans into the cold glass as you gently caress his neck with the tinkling condensation.

“Feels good, right?”

“Mmmhmmm.” He turns his face toward you and you continue to press the glass against one cheek, then the other, booping his nose with it along the way. 

“You keep doing that and all the ice is gonna melt.” The hedge clippers hang securely in his work-gloved hand and he smiles at you when you bring the glass up to his forehead, running it back and forth across his brow slowly, when he starts to raise his brow at you, you put the cup in his free hand.

He swirls the glass and purses his lips, “Basil?”

“Uh huh.”

“Hows the plant shelf coming along?”

You reflexively look back to the patio with the obviously unattempted pile of Not A Plant Shelf and when you look back at him Santiago is smirking. 

You put your hands on your hips, “Drink your lemonade, Garcia.” 

He obeys tilting the frosty glass to his mouth, the ice cubes having shrunk slightly. He hums in pleasure at the first sip, his shoulders sag and he licks his lips. 

“Blackberry?”

“Yep.”

He takes another long gulp, nearly draining the glass. “From scratch too?”

“Of course, I know you hate Country Tyme.”

Santiago drains the glass and hands it back to you. “Thanks, Vin.”

“Renatta helped, too.”

“Renatta’s here?”

“Yeah she came by to drop off the copies of the uhhh… agreement.”

“Ah yes, the agreement. Well, I’ll be in soon to install that water filter, just finishing the hedges and then I gotta grab my tools.”

“I thought I told you I was going to do that!”

Santi tilts his sunglasses down at you, blinking comically at the pile of wood on the porch and then cocking his head dramatically in your direction before pushing them back into place. 

You sigh. “Fine. I’ll be inside.”

——————————

Santiago is under your sink when he feels his boot being gently kicked. 

“Vinny, I told you this was going to be a minute, if you need running water, you can go over to my place. The door is unlocked”

“Oh really, can I use your shower, Santiagooo?” 

The voice doesn’t belong to you, it’s the voice of a man, pitched mockingly high in the poor imitation of a female voice. Santi slides out from under the sink, ungracefully smacking his head on the top of the cabinet in the process. Frankie doubles over in laughter as Santi rubs his head against his palm. 

“Damn, Frank you scared the shit out of me.”

“Haha, not as scared as you’re going to be for your league punishment.”

Santi groans and hoists himself up, bracing on the counter and leaning back against it with folded arms. His left foot is asleep and his fucking knees are creaking with pain just like the top of his head. He taps his toe, partly to get the feeling back in his toe and partly in agitation of Fish and his jubilant smile. 

“You come over here to what? Rub in your league stats?”

“Hermano, relax, I was in the neighborhood and returning your bandsaw, when I pulled up, Vin told me you were in the kitchen. She’s on the front porch building a birdhouse or something.”

“Plant shelf.” Santi mutters, rubbing his head.

“Didn’t look like any plant shelf I’ve ever seen.”

Santi chuckles. He can see it. You never were one for following directions. Hopefully you haven’t done any irreparable damage to the pieces before he can put it together himself. 

“You need any help?” Fish nods to the sink and the opened box with the filtration components still wrapped in plastic. 

“Yeah, yeah actually. I just gotta disconnect something down there and when I tell you, if you could snake this piece down that hole, that would save me some time.”

“You got it.”

Santi slowly lowers himself, hiding any expressions of discomfort or groans when his knees make contact with the kitchen tile. He hear fish take a seat at the barstool and some shuffling of papers.

“By the way, why are you all sweaty, Pope? I know it’s hot out, but damn.”

“Yardwork.”

“Of course.”

It’s not a great crescent wrench. He needs a new set entirely, his 8th in particular has seen so much action it’s probably a 7th at this point. 

“What the…” Santi hears Frank mutter, hears the flip of a page. “Release all rights to… whaaaat?” Another flip of a page. 

Somewhere in the back of Santi’s mind he realizes that Fish is reading the copy of the agreement he had signed at Renatta’s downtown office on Thursday. 

Santi scurries once again out from under the sink and in his haste, smacks the same bit of his forehead on the cabinet. 

“Fuck!” He yells. Rubbing his forehead, rising up in a fashion that he’s going to feel tomorrow morning, he lunges over the counter at Frankie, tearing the papers out of his hands, straightening the pages and shoving them back in the envelope. 

Frankie opens his mouth to speak but closes it when you come bursting through the door. 

“What happened?! I head you scream.”

“I didn’t scream, I yelled.”

“Yes, much more acceptable. Beg your pardon— oh shit your forehead!”

Pope grits his teeth, palm pressed to the pounding pain in his skull. 

“I’m fine.”

But you’re not listening to him. Of course. When do you ever? You grab an ice pack from the freezer and wrap it in a clean hand towel and tug at his wrist gently.

“Move your hand.”

He winces when you press the ice pack to his forehead and you examine his eyes from beneath the wrapped cloth. You’re probably checking him for a concussion or something dramatic. 

“It’s really not that—“

“Bad? Bullshit, Santi, I felt the whole porch shudder when you bonked your head… actually think you may have fucked up my plant shelf, with the quake… damn shame too, because it was going very well.”

Santi winces and snorts out a laugh. 

“I’ll fix it.”

You nod at him with a smile, “Its really the least you could do. Might even need to call FEMA to step in.”

Santi covers your hand with his own, turning from you so that you let go of the ice pack. 

“Thanks, Vin. Feeling better already.” 

You stand somewhat awkwardly in your own kitchen, perhaps realizing you interrupted a moment between Frankie and himself. 

You bend your thumb over your shoulder. “Well I’m going to asses the Richter damage and leave you to um, the hoses and things… and if you need any tylenol, they’re in my bathroom cabinet. The mirror on the uhh.. right.”

Santi and Frankie let a few moments of silence fall between them before Frankie whisper screams at him, “What the fuck?” Holding up the folder and tapping it for emphasis in case the head trauma gave Santiago amnesia. 

“Don’t.” Santi snaps, lowering his head to rest on his forearms. That’s what you’re supposed to do right, lower the head? Or is that for nausea?

“I just found out you and Vin are having a baby, and you want me to what? Pretend like I don’t know that?”

The blood pumps viciously against his skull and Santiago remembers that lowering the head is indeed for nausea and he should keep the injured area elevated to prevent inflamation. He raises up, still gripping the towel-wrapped cold pack to what is sure to be a very attractive lump in the morning. 

“If you could. Yeah.”

Frankie shakes his head incredulously, folding his arms and leaning back against the stool. “What are you doing, man?”

Santi shrugs his free shoulder. “Installing an osmosis filter.”

“Pope.”

“Don’t knock it till you try a glass. Supposed to be out of this world.” He mutters deadpan. 

“You know what I’m talking about.”

“No, no I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Uh this. The filter. The yard work. The fucking birdhouse.”

“Plant shelf.”

“Pope. Come on, man. Look at yourself.”

“The fuck are you saying?”

Its the heat, the heat is getting to him, the pounding in his head is getting to him, he has a good idea of what Frankie is implying and he wishes he would say it so he can flip his lid.

“You’ve been playing house with Vin for two years, hermano. Doing all this household shit, and that’s fine, but a baby? A baby that’s not even going to be yours? Dios, Pope. I mean this sincerely— are you okay? I get that what happened with Bee was fucked up, she broke your heart and then some, but fuck! It’s been a long time. I’ve tried to set you up, Rach has tried to set you up, get you back on the scene, but…. You’re acting like you’re Vin’s husband… with none of the perks, apparently!” He flicks the folder again, for emphasis. 

Santiago silently counts to ten and levels his breathing, he can feel the way his hand shakes against his forehead and it takes everything inside him not to hurl the fucking thing at Frank. 

“You put my bandsaw in my garage already?”

“Yeah, did it when I pulled up.”

“Good—

“But I can move it to Vin’s garage if you need me to. This stool is a little wobbly, could use some even-ing out.”

Santiago’s nostrils flare and he starts counting to ten in his head again.

Frank walks around the counter and claps his arm around Santiago. “Look, man. I know you got your own way of… shouldering the fucking world and I’m probably the last guy you wanna hear life advice from, considering…. But, you’ve always been there for me. Even when I was being a fucking asshole.”

Santiago sniffs stiffly and Fish gives his shoulder a pat before releasing him from the side-armed hug. 

“I’m here if you want to talk, okay. I know its not your thing, but if you ever feel like it, I am here for you.”

Santi gives him a curt nod and turns to busy himself with unwrapping one of the filter components from the plastic.

“I think you were about to tell me to fuck off, so I’ll save you the oxygen.” Fish says with a smile and pats Santi’s turned back one more time before departing. 

Santi drops the plastic wrapped filter and stands stalk-still in the kitchen, the ice pack isn’t cold anymore so he unwraps the cloth, tossing it into the hamper in the laundry room before putting the melted pack back in the freezer. The glass pitcher of lemonade is sweating on the counter and Santi grabs a glass and fills it to the brim, turning towards the planter box on the window sill, he plucks a piece of basil and garnishes the top of the drink with it before raising the icy glass to his forehead and sighing in relief. 

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

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