solar4seekstron · 2 days ago
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Before and So Forth Chr. 2: Transformers One x Cybertronian!GN!reader
Chapter 2: Megatronus Chr. 1
(Starscream x Cybertronian!GN!reader - kinda)
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TW/Tags: 18+, Smut, HUGE Size differences, Reader gets hurt, Starscream is worried, Megatronus and Solus are fighting, Long aft chapter again.
Note: In the lore of transformers prime Solus is in a sort of Poly like relationship with the other primes and although she loves and cares for Megatronus as well she doesn’t seem to really pick him or the others if that makes sense. Thought it would be interesting to add that here and Megatronus choose he’ll court the reader. As for Starscream his feelings toawrds reader will become more and more clear as the story continues and eventually the reader will accept it after the primes deaths. There’ll be more at the end of the post to explain.
As always I hope you all enjoy and be sure to read the text after the story. Smut will be in purple in case you’re uncomfortable with the smut parts.
(Just like the first one this one will be as long as well.
You made your way to the lunch area with the other High Guards. Passing by some cone heads and seekers. You did your best to remain calm as you walked. As you continued, you thought about your mission. Where you’ll be going to the surface to keep an eye out for Quintessons. Something you offered to join in order to be a little more useful…
You were deep in your thoughts when you bumped into a chest. You looked up and see it’s Soundwave- “Soundwave! Sir. My apologies I uhh…-w-well you see I-“
“Have you eaten today?” You think for a moment putting a finger to your chin as you look down…”…….This morning?” ………….”Training….. keeping me busy?”
You could swear just by your own gut feeling Soundwave was frowning and before you knew it he was grabbing your cervo and dragging you to the lunch room. He and Shockwave along with Starscream had their own little area being one of the strongest members of the high guard. As you both got there Shockwave was staring at his energon bowel..…analyzing it? And starscream was eating as he saw Rumble and Frenzy messed around as they ate theirs like wild animals.
Ravage was eating out of a bowel right next to Shockwave. Shockwave looked over at her and slowly moves the arm that doesn’t have a cervo towards her. Rumble next to Ravage, on the other side notices and smacks Shockwaves arm. His one optic squinting down at him.
As you and Soundwave get there he sat you on his seat and puts a few energon cubes in front of you. “Eat.” “Soundwave-“ “Eat.” You sigh and start eating the cubes as he stares down at you.
Soundwave then sits across from you picking up Ravage like a kitten as her snout never leaves the bowel and sits down. Setting her on his lap. As you ate you can feel Starscreams eyes on you. Given that you did just disappear while he was training the others. You can also tell Soundwave was glaring at you . He was always so strict with you and a few other Guards about eating enough in order to do our job. Shockwave was side-eyeing Soundwave. Then looks at you then back at him. After he then looked down at his bowel and back at you then Soundwave.
Rumble sighs and was the first to speak. “Soooooooooooooooooooooooooooo Soundwave can we go on Y/Ns mission?” “No”
”Told you he’d say no.” Frenzy says. Laserbeak resting on his head sleeping. Rumble grumbles and finishes his energon cubes getting down and walking away. “Rumble Return at once.” “No!”
”Soundwave, we're just going to fly around in search for any Quintessons signal. Make sure they’re nowhere close to us, you know?” You try to say to Soundwave seeing Rumble’s upset. soundwave stares down at you. You finally finished your energon cubes.
Soundwave only stares at you and lets out what sounds like a sigh. Looking down at Ravage and Frenzy. Frenzy just shrugged and Ravage went back licking her paws. Shockwave slowly blinks his one optic as he finally finishes his energon soup. Soundwave sighs and comms Rumble “Mission with Y/N: Accepted” Rumbles cheers and Yes’s can be heard from his comm and not too afar from them as Soundwave stays still.
You chuckle a bit as rumble returns and jumps onto your lap. Ignoring the glares of Starscream, Shockwave, and Soundwave. He starts asking you about the mission. You check the time and see you leave in 10. You let Rumble know and you both make your way to the other seekers you’ll be joining. Rumble runs off ahead of you as you continue to walk.
You then feel a hand grab your arms and pull you back. You back hitting the chest of someone- still taller than you. You turn your head to look up. It was Starscream.
”You really think you can walk away without apologizing? We were suppose to train and another thing I-“ You just rolled your eyes and gently pulled your arms away from his grasp and look at him. “Screamer we train every morning and one of the Primes decided to have his training today. I can’t say no.”
Starscream stared at you and let out a bit of a growl and takes a step forward. “One, don’t call me screamer. Two, I don’t care you ditched me! And three! Which Prime?”
”Uhh……Megatronus.” You say with a small smile. Starscream only stared down at you as he then sighs and gently holds your hands as he continues to look at you. “I don’t like the way that Prime looks at you. Every time we fight we are able to escape. He seems to just stare at you with this look.”
Here you start to panic a bit as he speaks. Maybe you should tell him what Megatronus did. Maybe you can trust him? But as you looked up at him you can see the sadness in his eyes makes your spark almost feel pity.
”I may be just a part of the high guard but those Prime should know their place as well . He sets his hands on your waist and gently pulls you closer gripping a bit tightly as he speaks. You soon realize what was going on and you were quick to come up with something. You knew you had to stop him, not to mention you had to leave soon.
”Starscream I really must get going. Let’s talk later shall we?” You gently hug him, your chin on his shoulder. He kept his hands on your waist for a moment longer until you pulled away. “We can train together in the morning alright?” He stays quiet for a moment and then nods. Letting you go. You walk to catch up with rumble meeting up with him and the others. Starscream was still standing there as he looked down at his hands. Unaware of Sentinel watching from deeper in the halls.
Once you were there you chatted and apologized for being almost late. Then transformed. Rumble hopping on top and hanging on tightly to you. You and the other guards with you then fly up to the surface. As you flew, Megatronus from the room meeting with the other primes, watched you as you left. He was currently in a meeting with a few of the other primes. Solus is also there. She notices him watching the guards leaving and almost frowns. Megatronus then returned to the meeting. Taking his seat next to Solus.
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After many hours since going into your little patrol the sun was slowly setting. You and the others keep flying as Rumbles' grip slowly gets loose. You make sure to remind rumble that he has to hang on tightly. It requires that you move fast in case of attack. After some time you and the others take a small break and hide in an abandon city. safely. Hidden you decide to look at the lost city for a bit. walking around it alongside some deer robots. Your mind starts to think as Rumble and the others stay together.
After some time your mind wondered. The rumor of Megatronus and Solus prime. How he must have implied that he wasn’t courting Solus but…. He…wanted to court you..Why? You and many others seen how she looks at him. But you were certain he must’ve had feelings for her at least once as well. Not to mention the whole situation with Starscream. You began to worry. Your spark only starting to rac because of your confusion and lost of what’ll happen.
But as you continue you would stop as you feel something poking and grabbing at your leg. you looked down and it’s- IT’S A QUINTISSON!!- but- smaller. Almost deformed in a way. You almost took sympathy at first as it whimpered and crawled closer to you. But then it launched at you, holding you back with your hands and arms. It keeps slashing at you. But then it gets a good scratch at you face. You screamed in pain as you finally get a chance to blast it away. Then you get to it and stab it repeatedly until it stopped moving. You were out of breath given you were caught of guard and had to think fast. You held you cheek feeling the energon and pain on your eye brow and cheek. That thing really got a good hit on you.
You made your way to the others as my talked and messed around. Rumble having a good time as the others laughed. You still kept your hand on your cheek and your other hand as a blaster as you ran to them.
”Weapons ready! Possible Quintessons!! The others hear you and get their weapons ready. You all searched around the city separated. As Rumble and another seeker stays with you. Rumble was able to patch and clean you up thanks to a medical kit the other seeker brought with them. After some time you all can confirm it was just the small one. Most likely being left behind. You all decide to continue your mission. You told Rumble you will handle explaining what happened. What’s important is he’s safe.
And so forth you and the other seekers continue to fly in the air, Rumble with you again as the sun finally sets. Once upon returning you knew you were in for it. Making it into the surface unfollowed you and the others landed at the front of the tower.
You all then walk in some other guards noticing you new scar. You made your way to the medical bay as Rumble says his byes and heads to Soundwave. As you spoke to the nurse after a few minutes you door bangs wide open showing Soundwave. He was beyond upset and told the nurse to leave. Once they were gone he really laid it into you. Not for Rumble possibly getting into danger. No. Because you weren’t more careful and now although not huge. You have. Scar on your eye brow and cheek. Your cheek wound being much deeper. When you thought of thinking of making a little snarky comment to lighten up the mood. He already knew and told you to not even try it. You looked down and just waited for him to finish.
You’d then feel a hand on your shoulder. As you looked up he was staring down at you. “Always close to the ones you trust Y/N otherwise your future will have consequences…Understood?” You slowly nodded.
He then left after that. You sighed exhausted and as you walked out and started heading to the training room. Something you did every night before heading to recharge, you didn’t expect to see starscream in there, training by himself. As you walked in you greeted him which surprised him as he was in the middle of a move.
“Sorry ‘bout that Starscream.” He groaned and once he stood up. When he saw you he dropped his weapon. Making his way to you and putting his cervos on your shoulder as he looked at your scar.
”What the hell happened to you?! Didn’t you say long ago you would always be careful?! You could’ve gotten hurt more you idiot!” You only look at him as he complained and just smiled. You soft smile you can only rarely do as he continues on. But once he sees your smile. “Starscream…I’m alive ain’t I?” He stays quiet for a moment as he takes in your words. He’d sigh and look away for a moment.
His eyes then close and his cervos on your shoulders tighten a bit. “Go recharge Y/N……”
”Starscream-“
”That’s an order…And we both will be training early tomorrow morning, understand?”
“….Yes sir.” You’d then turn and leave walking out of the room. Starscream stays in there as his cervos clenched out of anger. You were almost out of the building until you got an idea. Then as you thought, you walked to Megatronus' private quarters. The one place he must be at now….
Yes, your feelings towards Megatronus are true but so was with Starscream. Both in plain view, obviously it woul work. Starscream you’re not sure of. But for Megatronus to kiss you and Starscream showing even more affection than before!…..You are always on the job and…and…Megatronus..should be with someone of his rank. Not you. Starscream may seem as a possibility- but No! You have to discipline yourself. Not to be used by a Prime. You will speak to Megatronus and stand your ground. Even if it means you’re no longer part of the high guard. You must put yourself first.
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As you got to his door you could hear voices from the other side. It was Megatronus and Solus arguing. As you get closer you’re able to hear them better. You continue to listen. The other Primes shouldn’t be back for another few cycles. You stay at the hall higher in up your Audio Sensors. Ok if they start doing it then you’ll leave but what if it has to do with the rumor. Maybe he lied and it was real?
”I have lost interest Solus you said it yourself! Not only was my courtship on hold for so long but you wish for me to just except your feelings for another for the millionth time? Am I to believe you can still have such feelings for me as you do for the others. I’ve waited. I’m Done!”
”If you really cared then you would’ve try harder-“
“Harder? HARDER!? You don’t even know what you want and you’re just dragging me and the others with you into your black whole! I’ve moved on. I don’t need this and I don’t need you!” Solus just stares up at him. Her face full off anger as he stares down at her.
”You’ll come back..you always do.” She then walks past him finally leaving the room. She walks the opposite direction from where you are. She can be heard crying a bit from afar and you just peek from the wall from the hall. You grow even more worried.
Has this been happening? Did he try courting her before? Wait- HAS SHE BEEN FRAGGING THE OTHER PRIMES!? You swear you almost feel nauseous at the thought of this just going on. Once it seemed the coast was clear you made your way to the door after it was shut. You’d then gently knock on his door. Pretty much regretting it as you grow nervous but you know you must do this.
Though what you didn’t know is on the other side of the door he was losing in on the other side of the door. After waiting and waiting for her. She still makes him wait as she flirts with the others. He then threw his berth up in the air, hitting the ceiling and throwing his data pads around.
You gulped and knocked again as you say in a whisper “Please don’t kill meee-“
”If you don’t leave I-“ He yelled as the door finally happened, only look at no one. He looks around. You had to clear your throat in order to grab his attention. He finally looks down more and sees you. You two stay quiet for a moment looking for each other. His optics were wide as he seemed almost out of breath because of his rage earlier. You finally speak.
”Can we talk..Megatronus?” You give a small smile. Hopefully to brighten his mood. At least a little bit as you keep looking at him. He calmed down, his optics no longer wide and his body stops tensing up. “It is good you are here Y/N.”
”Oh that is good to hear Megatro-“ He then grabs you with his one hand. It only going fully around your waist as he pulls you in. His door closes and he walks a bit deeper in his room and gently sets you down. “-nus…uhm. Why don’t we talk ‘bout- About! Today.” You corrected yourself as he sat on his berth.
“…..Go on.” You gulped. Oh boy you either die today or leave bruised or worse- fired but you must treat this like a grown up and handle the situation.
”Sir- Megatronus. Our relationship isn’t appropriate. Yes my feelings are reall but I’m nothing more but a guard who fights for you and the city from the Quintissons. I don’t know what’s going on between you and Solus Prime that created this rumor.” You lied
”But I’m sure a Prime like yourself and Solus can work out-“
He then grabs your arm bringing you closer to him as you stumble a bit trying to not fall. He then sets you on his lap. His hand on your back as he sets his other hand on his lap. “I could give less of a damn of you believe is proper or not. The reason we are keeping this secret and away form the others is for your safety. I am well aware of what I’m doin’… But I….Just years of these emotions inside me and knowing that Solus will just make me wait and wait and she runs off to the others possibly even more then more…I’m sick of it. I feel used! And It isn’t what I want and should even need!”
You could only stare up at him as he spoke and took in his words. He really was doing this because he believed you'll not treat him like Solus. You’re loyal, you’re suppose to be. “Megatronus did you ever think that it could be because she’s dealing with stress and trying to trains her own high guards just as the others-“ He slams his foot down. “If so then why must she make false promises and mess with me with the others in front!”
”…..Doesn’t she..do the same with you and isnt she known she’s affectionate?” He only looks down at you with an angry expression and slowly blinked. You gulped and looked down. “She’s poly isnt she?” Megatronus the growls more as he stands up. “OK OK lets calm down!” You backed up as he paced back and forth. “Megatronus please lets just-“
”I am done!” He stays quiet for a moment. You could only stare at him, then look down. He was really tired of all this. You feel sympathy. But maybe this could be a good thing? You can actually have your chance and he already admitted he- wait…..well wouldn’t hurt to ask. “Megatronus do you…have actual feelings for me? Like- Love even?” He pauses for a moment before slowly turning. He thought for a moment. Before sitting back down. He would then sighs and fixed his bed and sits back on it. “Years and years when not focused on Solus the whole time…I have could only notice you everytime.” Your Bravery, Loyalty, and Strength- It’s everything a warrior represents!…I….” He takes a knee after being silent for a moment before you.
Looking down at you with soft eyes. Something he rarely does.
His large hand gently grabbing hold of yours. “I do love you. And I hope you’ll continue to give me a chance to guide and be with you? Please…statues passed aside just..give us a chance. Me a chance?” In your head you knew. This is just straight up pity but at the same time not. You do care for him. Hell it took you a while to not blush around him.
You thought for a moment then remembering why you came here in the first place. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt. A relationship will barely stop you from doing your job. And Megatronus is a respectable leader. he’s about as serious as you are about the war……..Oh what the hell.
You look up at him. You only have took a second before finally answering and gently holding his larger ones with yours. “I’ll…let you court me Megatronus…and Hope our journey can continue forward on what lies upon us…” You’re sure he must be smiling under his mask. But then you thought and spoke when he moved his larger hands moved onto your waist.
”Maybe we should take it slow first? Why not take our ti-“ You see he’s just staring at this point. “Semi slow?” He nods letting out a “hm”. He then sits down and gently picked you up as he puts you on his lap. His other hand reaching to his mask. He’s about to take it off- HE’S ABOUT TO TAKE IT OFF….you start to panick as bit. You didn’t expect this to happen so soon.
You could only sit there as he removed his mask. He then reveals his face. It was grey a bit darker toned as he had a few scars on his lips and around his eyes. Most likely from a Quintissons. You just stare at him as he looked down at you. His face unemotional as his optics just narrowed. You realize you’re just staring and you should probably speak. “Wow I didn’t expect you’re so much more handsome then I expected.” He only let out a deep chuckle. At least my scars don’t seem to bother you. I believe scar are what makes show of a warriors worthiness. Such as like yours here.” One of his digits gently touches your scar on your cheek. Noticing it’s over your eyebrow as well.
”The scouting today had its surprises but at least I got it on a special day?” You tried your best to brighten up the mood even more. His other hand still on your back starts to pull you a bit closer as he sets his mask down. “Let me ask you have no other courting you at this moment Y/N.” You responded with a no. You didn’t really have anyone else. And Starscream has his own thing going on. It’s most likely not possible like how it would’ve been with megatronus.
”Good. Something for myself. Someone I can trust…” You slowly nodded. Your cervos resting on your own lap as one of his digits touches your chin and keeps it in place as he looks down at you. “Mean it…?”
”Y-yes Megatronus.”
He gently sets you on the berth with his cervos as he leaned down getting fully on the berth as he uses his arms a support and was basically over you once more. He then leaned closer both of you foreheads touching as he stared down at you. Your cervos gently holding his cheeks as you give him a small smile. You then closed your optics as you take in the moment. He then leaned forward a bit his lips touches your once more since earlier this day. You didn’t take some time after to return the kiss. Lightly turning your head to deepen it.
It was close to how it was earlier this day in thr training room. His cervos moving to your waist and gently rubbing at your chest. Putting a little pressure on you to keep you pinned on the bed. His lips are so gently against your small ones. You can only imagine what it’ll be like when you he finishes courting you. You could only hope he still be gentle even then. When you opened your optics a little bit, his optics were already closed. He seemed almost a peace. Something that wasn’t seen much earlier today.
You closed your optics once more as he moves his lips to your neck and shoulder as his other cervo that was against the bed now was behind your head. Supporting it as he brought you closer. Your cervos stayed on his cheek. Supporting him to continue as he continues to cover your shoulder with kisses. He then continues going lower and lower.
His cervo moving to under you making you lift up a little. Now you head to your waist only inches above the bed. He then kisses your chest taking his time as he then makes his way to your waist. Your chest and waist becoming covered with kisses.
Your cervos then rest on the top of his head. Both of his cervos staying in lace as he spends some time to continue covering your waist with kisses. You’d let out a few sighs as you take in the moment. That worry and stress you had moments before soon washing away. The same thing surely happening to Megatronus.
Before you know it his kisses have gone lower and just over your panel he sets a kiss in place for only a moment. Your legs spreading on their own for him as you let out a small gasp. He then gently licked the now sensitive panel making your legs flinch only a bit. You didn’t realized how sensitive your panel has grown. He then gave soft kisses and licks on your inner legs and panel once more. With the cervo supporting your head up. His thumb gently move to be over you lips. “Open for me my dear.”
”M-Megatronus isn’t this going too fast?” He only continues until he finally stops slowly lifting his head being a few more inches from you
He then so gently picked you up. He sits up on the berth as the has one of his cervos supporting you up by your lower half against his sheet. His back now resting against the wall as he looked at you. His optics still soft as he then used one of his digits to gently rub your bac as he then spoke. “Maybe so but at least let me have a taste. So that you may know what to expect after our courting.”
You gave into the thought for a couple seconds before you then descide to nod. Giving him your gentle smile once more as he continued to almost seem emotionless. Though before you knew it he let out a small smile as well. He then leaned forward once more as his lips touch your panel and since you agreed. Your panel opens.
Showing how wet your valve is. Practically soaking as you shiver a bit from the cold air. He’s then set a small and gentle kiss on your valve as you let out a few gasps softly as your head titled back.
He’d then stick out his glossa once more and this time gently pressed more pressure against you valve. Making your legs shake lightly as he continues and presses his head closer into your legs and more so against your valve. He would then continue. Although he had a much bigger mouth compared to the other primes. He was more so gentle when it comes to using it. And he made very sure of that with you.
He’d then gently job at you node as he spreads your legs using one of his digits with the cervo supporting you. You let out a moan not expecting him to make a move like this given his size.
You’d then turn your head and notice his own panel has been removed and his other cervo has been busy with his spike. His spike was long and rather girthy as it stood tall. The tip was already leaking precum as he held it tightly. Your cervos held onto his digits tightly as you let out a few more moans. Trying to have a good hold of your legs as they continue to shake. The side of your thighs rubbing against his cheeks as he continues trying to bring you closer to your orgasm. When it appears that you are getting louder and louder. He looks up at you. His optics are narrow. You notice and place a hand over your mouth as you moan into it. He closes his optics once more and continues.
You feel a knot growing in my stomach. The feeling only growing as you continue to moan into your cervo. He realizes this means you’re getting closer. He continues this action and licked harder against your entrance and node.
He was already moving his cervo up and down his spike. Squeezing tightly as he grows closer to his own release. He too then moaned lightly. Causing his glossa and lips to vibrate against your valve. Only causing even more pleasure for you.
And then soon you are undone. Finally getting your release as you let out one last moan. Your legs shaking and your cervos squeeze tightly on his digits. He continues his act as he licks at your valve cleaning you up. Making sure you’re all cleaned up and not a single drop falls.
You’re a mess as you were panting. Trying to catch your breath. He wasn’t far behind, finally receiving his own release. It landing on his lower waist as he too tried to catch his breath. He slowly opened his optics and looks at you. As you did the same. Your legs were shaking and he gently raised you high as he sat up. His hand still holding you as he tucks himself away. His panel closing. You’d then close your panel once you finally caught your breath.
You looked at him and you both stared at each other. Although silly you both had a smile on your lips. He brought you closer and both of your lips meet. Touching once more. He kisses you with both passion and hunger. Hoping you’d do the same. You gently set your cervos on his cheeks as you return the kiss. You then spend what felt like cycles as your lips touched. But as th seconds gon by the later it became at night.
You’ll be exhausted in the morning for your training.
He was the one to pull away. He looked at you and let out a small chuckle. “I should help you sneak out so no one sees you. Wouldn’t want you losing your job.” You let out a chuckle at his words. He’d then stand up fully nad think. Then looking at his chest as he sets his mask back on.
”I should have enough room in front of my cog. I can walk out and go where you wont be seen so you may make it home. No one will question if it’s me going out.”
”That’s…a pretty good plan.” He then opens his chest and there lied his cog. There does seem to be room but you’re still a bit too big. You then get an idea. transforming in his cervo he looks at you. He then tried his best to fit you into his chest and able to get you to fit at a certain angle.
After cleaning himself up more he walks out of his room. Luckily only the night guards out and they only bowed their heads to Megatronus as he passed them. He then walks outside, getting closer to one of the alleyways and once the coast was clear. He opened his chest and picked you out. Setting you on the floor. You’d then transform and stretch out your arms. You’d then look up at him as he kneels down.
”I’ll see you for training tomorrow in the afternoon. You shall join me in training to show the others how to grow stronger. Understood?”
”Yes..Megatronus.” He nodded. He appears to wanting to lean forward. To give you one last kiss but he knew he had to return. Holding back. He then… bowed his head to you. This took you by surprise. You’d walk forward and place your hand on his chest “Until tomorrow My Prime.” You two stay quiet for a moment until he stands up. Then turning the other way heading back to his quarters.
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You made your way back to your home. Once you got in you leaned against the door once it closed. And slide down sitting on the floor. You and one of th primes…Oh boy..This job just got a lot more interesting..
Back with megatronus as he walked back he passes by Solus who was leaving from her training room. She was alone and tired. Having gone training to let her anger out. She’d then notice megatronus passing by to his own room
”Megatronus what are you- what were you doing?” Megatronus would stop and turn his head back a little. Only glancing a bit. But right away, he continues walking. As she spoke more trying to grab his attention. He just continues to ignore her. Finally going to his room to recharge. Leaving Solus alone.
Hell yeah Chapter 2! Only a few more chapters to go!! As always the chapters for this story will be every Tuesday so please be patient. More chapters are to come.
As the story continues I’m planning on letting it get to even the movie. But because I love giving myself more work I’ll make two different parts where you either get left behind and don’t know what actually happened. Sentinel takes you and lies. Making you his Conjunx until Megatron kills him and eventually takes you cause he yandere. And another will be you being there knowing what happened and staying with the trio. Idk if i should make it poly since the trio also have feelings for you so you guys let me know your opinion. lol.
Maybe I’ll do one where the reader will join the Autobots in a different ending so it’s not all high gaurds joining the decepticons lmao. That should be all with what I have planned. Hope you all have a good rest of you morning/evening/night.
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fulloflambing · 5 hours ago
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࣪ . ִֶָ๋ KINICH: ❛ it's not the alcohol, i swear! ❜ ♡
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pairing: kinich x reader (uses she/her) synopsis: kinich never touches alcohol. the one night he does, he has a very pleasant secret to spill. banner artist: @/Lion_2929 on twitter/x !! wordcount: 1.7k words warnings: lots of alcohol consumption, kinda crack, kinich is drunk the way i feel like he'd be like if he was drunk (talkative and childish) cho's notes: heavily inspired by beer by the itchyworms. hihi happy reads!
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Maybe it was a bad idea to go to this party.
“Believe me! I AM the hydro archon!” mualani cried, weakly shoving at chasca’s shoulder.
Definitely a bad idea.
The ignited torches set a cozy atmosphere into the weary inn, the instruments being strung by performers and high spirits of the natlanese only made it more comforting. It was a cold night out, and you had been invited earlier in the day to a party to celebrate the victory of Natlan over the abyss, a week after the intense battle.
Mualani was the one who sent you the invitation, giving another one to kinich when your group were lounging together. kachina threw a small tantrum, whining: “why can’t I go?” making mualani sigh, patting the small child on the head, “sorry kachina, it’s strictly an adult party. And i mean it! I really can’t sneak you in this time.” “I can’t believe they’d send a kid to war, but not to a grown up party.”
Mualani mentioned there would be alcohol, which made your eyes immediately dart to kinich, your close friend along with the other two. You knew he absolutely despised alcohol and he didn’t want to be anywhere near it, given his past surrounding the vice. You noticed how his shoulders had slightly tensed, only to slowly relax again. 
“So? Are you guys going~?” mualani coed, trying to convince the both of you to attend.
“I dont know.. I don’t think it’d be fair if only the both of us will-”
“I’ll be there.” You and mualani’s jaw immediately hang, looking at the stone-cold kinich absolutely bewildered. You quickly composed yourself as kinich raised his brow at you, almost saying ‘do you want me to change my mind?’ with his expression alone.
“A-Alright. We’ll be there.”
It was supposed to be a calm party, with only a few drinks. 
You only indulged in a glass or two, to join in on the festivities and to really be in the spirits of the party. You were barely tipsy, just a bit flushed with slightly fuzzy thoughts.
Mualani had almost gulped down 4 bottles of beer on her own, thinking and speaking had become one action to her. But that was normal. Mualani was known as the party girl anyway, it was her who carried the mood and laughter, even when she wasn’t making sense. What wasn’t normal, was when kinich decided to become drunk too.
“You.. are not the hydro archon. Stop.. *hic* disrespecting Fontainians.” He mumbled grumpily, slamming his glass onto the wood table with a thud. It was a rare sight; Kinich with his hair a little messier, with rosy cheeks and sleepy eyes. You felt your heart beating a little harder at the sight.
You knew you liked kinich, but there was never a perfect opportunity to confess it. And in the end, you had just decided to keep all the sappy feelings to yourself, not wanting to ruin the perfect friendship the both of you shared.
It caught everyone off guard, when kinich had asked for a taller glass of cold beer after the initial toast. Then he ordered another one, then another.. Then some more. 
“But I am! It came to me in a dream!” Mualani continued crying, drunk-stupid tears flowing down her face, frantically turning to him.
“Well i dreamt that i had normal friends, do you think i do?” he spat bitterly, looking at her with narrowed eyes. Kinich was a bit meaner while he was drunk, but he didn’t mean it. 
Again, It was supposed to be a calm party, with only a few drinks. 
But mualani started trying to turn one of the tables into a surfboard, citlali encouraged her behavior and was even trying to show her ‘how to do it properly’, chasca was nowhere to be found, and kinich was about to release ajaw. The atmosphere was still borderline calm, but if the circus continued to unfold you knew it wouldn’t end well.
You quickly grabbed kinich’s wrist before he could do anything, and suggested a walk. “We do not need ajaw making things worse. Let’s go take a breather.” Kinich’s eyes seemed to fill with some sort of determination for a second, before going back to being expressionless. He took one last bottle of beer with him, and followed your steps.
You brought him out of the weary inn, the cold atmosphere stinging your skin for a moment— It was a beautiful night. The moon was suspended high into the sky, illuminating in its beautiful full circle. with only a few clouds around. It was the perfect night to greet after a party. You walked with kinich out of the stadium, following a random path of pavement.
“I didn’t expect you’d want to get drunk tonight kinich.” You looked at him with a small smile, and admired the new side of him no one really knew.
“Do I always come off boring and lame to you?—” he sighed, bringing the bottle close and popping the cork off with his fingers easily. A subtle flex of his strength. “—I just.. wanted to try something different.” he said, picking his words carefully.
Something about kinich was different.
“Are you alright? You seem.. A little out of it.” you mumbled. He looked like he was avoiding something, or his head was filled with thoughts he so badly wanted to address. His breathing was heavier, his hands were trying to find purpose, and he avoided your eyes. 
“I-i’m fine. Just drunk. What’s the big deal?” he mumbled, still apprehensive and shuffled his steps. “..Just drunk, nothing more. Nothing less. Not hiding anything. Hiding nothing at all.”
“Okay okay. Fine.” 
You decided to fall silent, and let your eyes linger in the nature around you; Your heart ached a little. The trees slightly swayed to faint music, chatter, and crickets. The stars twinkled high above your heads and it was almost the perfect night. One more thing was missing: Kinich, but sober. 
in your mind, the night would've been perfect, if kinich loved you too.
“I can do this.” you turned your head to the dark-haired boozer next to you talking to himself, only to see him drinking the large bottle whole. “ki-kinich! slow down!” You tried to snatch the vessel out of his grasp, but he only turned his head until it quickly ran half-empty, a loud gulp coming from his throat.
He stopped in his tracks and brought the bottle off of his mouth, and wiped the extra carbonation off of his shiny lips and let out a hiccup before meeting your eyes.
“Y/n. I like you.” 
“Huh?”
“I like you. Like.. the romantic kind of like. Not the friend kind of like, I mean that I really want to be your boyfriend, kind of like.”
Kinich was a lot more talkative while he was drunk, but you prayed he wasn't a joker too.
Your mind fell silent, running out of words to say. You could suddenly hear your heart beat in your ears, and feel like the world shrunk around the both of you. ‘he's just drunk-'
“And before you say anything.. No. it’s not *hic* the beer. It’s not the alcohol. In fact, i-it’s the beer that’s helping me say everything right now. And if you decide to reject me right now, it’s *hic* also what’s going to make me forget this i-in the morning. Which is why i’m *hic*  drinking so m-much.”
He looked so serious, you knew he truly meant his words. His deep emerald eyes stared right into your soul, you almost felt violated. A deep heat rushed to your face, but you were still out of words.
You tried to speak. “B-but.. How? I mean. You never seemed to take interest in me. I thought-”
Kinich quickly takes the bottle back to lips, drinking down the rest and tossing the bottle to the side, burying it into the tall grass. He breathes out a ‘ha!’ sound before his liquid courage started speaking for him again:
“Never took interest in you!? All I ever do is stare at you, *hic* and listen to your stories, and br-briing you fruit, and help you whenever *hic* you break something! All free of charge! And I am a man of mora! Its literally my ancient name!” he whined; it was so unlike him. He was always so composed, mature. He had transformed into a whiny child throwing a fit in 5 bottles of alcohol.
“I’ve always wanted to tell you, but it was you who never seemed interested.” tears started pooling in his lower eyelids, and you feel a sense of panic combining into the butterflies causing a frenzy inside of you.
“Y-you always seemed to *hic* stiff up when i-i tried to compliment you, or you’d always go to other people when you wanted to *hic* ask for an opinion on how you looked or what you should wear. I have opinions too!” tears started streaming down his face. You quickly take his arm and put it over your shoulders, supporting him before he’d drop face-down into the dirt.
“Okay okay! I’m sorry i never asked for your opinion!”
“A-and you always gave a forehead kiss goodnight to kachina and mualani during sleepovers. Why did i never get one!”
“B-because i thought you didn’t want one!”
“Well I did! I really, *hic* really did!” 
“okay i’m sorry please stop crying now!” your free hand reaches out to wipe a tear off of his heated face, before your lips planted a quick kiss on his skin. “Can that make up for it for now?”
His cheeks get impossibly rosier, and he thinks to himself, before humming. “...mhm.” his tears slowly coming to a stop, until he's just snifling.
an awkward silence fell between the both of you, as you continued walking down the path. your face still hot, your trying to piece every memory of kinich and you together, trying to see a different angle where he was trying to show you his affections.
“Wait..” his eyes look away from you, and its almost like he tried to piece together a jigsaw puzzle in his head. Like a lightbulb had turned on, he turned back to you with his eyes livelier than they’ve ever been before, a sparkle appearing back into his gradient eyes.
“So do you like me back?” he mumbled meekly, like he tried to hide while asking.
“I do. I really, really do.”
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mikuyuuss · 6 months ago
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I love that Mitsuri is a little silly and stupid at times, shes a girlboss AND a girlfailure to me <3 but apparently there are some people that genuinely dislike her for those things? I understand Mitsuri's character isn't for everyone, BUT WAIT, HEAR ME OUT.
I've always had this headcanon that Mitsuri had a somewhat sheltered childhood growing up, since In the Rengoku Gaiden, she randomly got discriminated by a stranger for her hair color, so I can only imagine that she probably got that on a daily basis.
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I'm sure Mitsuri's parents don't enjoy seeing their eldest daughter bring harassed, so perhaps they might have coddled her a bit. Maybe that could explain why Mitsuri comes off as childish, innocent or """"stupid"""" as many people would say. For me, it's more like her personality just screams "sheltered kid", through no fault of her own tho.
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(this is taken from the second fanbook, translated by @/violetheart08)
The fact that she's happy to have friends at the corps, suggests to me that she probably didn't have many friends growing up, she most likely got bullied too, and if that's the case, it's understandable that she can come across as overly friendly and excitable whenever she's befriending new people.
She's actually socially awkward like Giyuu, but just on the opposite end of the spectrum lol, that's why I love them both.
But still, it's not that Mitsuri is straight up incompetent. She's very creative and thinks outside of the box with her breathing style. She also adapts pretty well in high stress situations, we saw this in swordsmith arc, but also we see this very clearly in the Rengoku Gaiden too.
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The fact that it only took her two years to become a hashira shows that she has a level of discipline to attain that title. Not only did Rengoku trained her well, this is also no feat that a truly "stupid" person can achieve.
The reason why I have this particular headcanon about Mitsuri is because some families do put A LOT of importance on reputation, especially asian families, when their kids start showing traits that would make them "different" they tend to "hide" the kids in order to protect their reputation so they won't lose their chances at marriage.
(Though I'm not saying all asian families are like this. This is mostly just based on my personal experience that I won't elaborate further)
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It reminded me of this scene, when Mitsuri's family suggested that she can just stay with them forever when she was worried that she won't be able to find someone. I love Mitsuri's parents and they are VERY GREAT for their time, but also this is really relatable to me personally :(
And given how marriage was such a big deal in Taisho era, I imagine that it was a mixture of that and the pressure to conform and protect their daughter at the same time that led me to imagine that Mitsuri probably had a sheltered lifestyle.
And you know it's possible that I'm wrong about all of these lmao, but just the fact that she has a comparably normal childhood is a good enough reason as to why she's more positive and naive compared to her peers. I know this is all just a headcanon, but I do wish people can be a bit more considerate towards Mitsuri before hating on her for being "loud" "stupid" and "annoying"
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uitzinnigmp3 · 2 years ago
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#fuck. FUCKKK FUCK#i fucking hate my life#gonna be a bit of a story here so im just tagging to b sure#tw animal death#tw pet loss#god even typing that. i just. FUCK#she hasnt come home for 2 days and my parents have given up#and i know i probably should too but i just#fucking hell!!!!#this cat has been a constant in my life for eighteen years. eighteen fucking years#and to lose her in such a fucking stupid way i fucking hate it im so fucking angry#and upset. and sad. and i just. i cant#it hasnt really set in either like i keep saying 'the cats' plural and filling 2 foodbowls#which i guess makes sense. since shes not been gone this long#but inside i still kinda have hope and i think i can hear her all the time and fucking everything reminds me of her#and i cant fucking handle it#the fact that i heard her at the door 2 days ago. and i thought it was too early so i didnt go downstairs to let her in. fucking. FUCK#i know it's not my fault but i will never fucking forgive myself#and also the fact that shes.. like. not here. to say goodbye to. fucking sucks so so much#like rn even if someone found her d--d i would want to see her. just to know the truth yknow#i fucking wish i could convince my parents to keep indoor cats but thats never gonna happen#god. i dont think im gonna run out of tears anytime soon#but this felt kinda. good? to write down#at least get my feelings out a bit idk#sorry if youve read this far i just am having a really miserable time rn#was also in bed w a 39-40°C fever the last 3 days so . yeah fun :)#anyway. like i said under the last post. fuck december i hate it so much i want to fucking sleep til spring#feel fucking terrible and kinda wanna die but also it's 12:30 at night so who even knows#i should be sleeping rn but i absolutely cannot 1. find a good position 2. get my mind off... well. 3. BREATHE because im so fucking sick#anyway peace and love on planet earth i hate life so much
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tragedy-of-commons · 4 months ago
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fuck it we ball. hsr prom date hcs because i am on something different tonight. based on my very limited experience.
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dan heng
he's painfully awkward. like you expected it when you asked him to be your date but it's even worse than you predicted...
he DID pick you up and he WAS almost an hour early, causing you to rush down the stairs and almost trip (not very magical-teen-coming-of-age-moment-like of you). that kind of lightened the mood though.
also painfully sweet! upon your arrival he gives you a boutonniere/corsage that matches your outfit which he had managed to keep hidden. his sweaty palms were not just because he was nervous, then...
march helped him pick it out, he admits with red-tipped ears. that makes sense, because she was suspiciously interested in what you were wearing to the function.
but he did also forget to pick out one for him. oops.
during the slow dance bit, his hands are sweaty. you don't care because your eyes lock and there's the fuzziness curling in your gut that plagues you whenever you're with dan heng.
overall, a good experience! polite and always willing to humor your whims, even if he's a little stiff.
and if you peck him on the cheek after he walks you back to your doorstep, well, that's alright with him. more than alright.
black swan
life of the party. not in a screaming-getting-way-too-into-the-music kinda way, but in the way that everyone wants a sliver of her attention. she's always relaxed, interesting to talk to, and dreamy to boot! it wouldn't be any different at prom.
but black swan, above all else, wants to just... spend time with you. anyone that wants to chat can wait until later, when she's not watching you stuff snacks into your pockets with a fond look in her faraway eyes.
to commemorate the occasion, you're cajoled into the photobooth where you both hold up props and make funny faces for the camera. you know black swan doesn't cherish much above memories, even if they're immortalized in a gag reel where you're clad in silly-straw glasses and her in a purple mustache.
but in the last photo, right before the camera flashes, she sneaks a kiss on your cheek. your eyes are blown wide in surprise in the picture and that's her favorite part!
surprisingly adept at dancing. depending on your taste, she will either dip you dramatically and take the lead, or fall into your steps and try to make you feel more comfortable if you're nervous.
cherishes any memento from the event. she does the teasing, though, so don't get any ideas about poking fun at her for being sappy.
a great date, i dare say.
aventurine
it's a given that both of you look the best. dressed to the nines.
the whole thing is a bit sensationalized, though. mostly because he's used to everything being treated like a spectacle, aventurine tries his best (while looking like he isn't trying at all) to give you a good time.
his saving grace is that... he's here with you. everything is more enjoyable this way, even the distastefully loud music matches the pulse in his ears when he looks at y💥💥
his favorite part of the event, surprisingly, is when you ask him to ditch with you early. makes a little joke like "wow, are you having that bad of a time with me?" but there's a bit of weight behind it that you can sense. anyway, you answer by rolling your eyes and pulling him outside.
away from the noise, pretenses drop and You Hold His Hand, telling him that any time with him is a good time. but this is infinitely better, even if you're both just stood in the parking lot.
you both decide to stay a little longer. at the end of the night, the principal gets into one of those dunking booths for the children to throw balls at to get them dunked in water. aventurine bets you a date that he'll hit the target.
you know he'll win (his luck kind of scares you), so of course you take him up on that wager, very excited to lose. it's very sweet.
lol he does hit the target
you both are prom celebrities for the rest of the night with another date set in stone a week from now!
kafka
imo she would make the best date out of everyone on this list.
mostly because any outing with kafka is almost cataclysmic in its impact... starting when she pops over at your place to help you get ready! surprise!
zips you up/adjusts your lapels/make sure your makeup looks good/whatever is part of this whole routine for you. she does so while humming a dulcet tune. she wants to be involved with every aspect of your pivotal prom experience tbh. keen on making memories like black swan is, but the effort is unconscious.
also. since blade has his driver's license, she basically bribed him into being your chauffeur for the night. i think that'd be a fun detail.
if you suck at dancing, never fear, because she also isn't very good (or so she says, but she's kafka, so of course she makes it work).
is not opposed to silly photobooth pics but she'd rather have someone take a candid of you both together by persuading them nicely - more her speed.
her eyes are ENCHANTING in that dim lighting... i just know... you get so distracted that you trip over her feet. silver wolf, the resident DJ that the school hired, sees and laughs.
has that tattered jacket thrown over whatever she decides to wear. she drapes it over you if you get cold due to the weather or temperature inside of the building.
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dyaz-stories · 7 months ago
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you know my tongue is a weapon || gojo satoru x reader
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synopsis: Shoko suggests a study night, but Gojo's bored and he doesn't want to study. So, instead, he offers to play a game, when all the others have left to get some food: every time he gets an answer right, he gets a kiss.
As you soon find out, Gojo can be very good at studying, as long as he gets something out of it.
word count: 3.8k
genre: college!AU, mostly fluff i think
cw: kissing, making out, semi-public kissing, unresolved sexual tension, reader is insecure and is therefore an unreliable narrator, dry humping ig, fem reader (the word girl is used once)
a/n: first time writing for jujutsu and for gojo! any feedback is appreciated, and i hope you enjoy yourselves :)
soundtrack
prequel
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Exam season is never a fun time to be on campus. Stress fills the air, the hallways, the always full libraries, even the coffee shops where people usually meet to relax between two classes. It’s the only conversation subject between sleep-deprived students, looming over their head threateningly at any time of the day and night. It’s stifling, a weight on their chest that never quite wears off.
As for you, well, you’re doing alright.
Oh, for sure, it’s a lot of work, and you’re not thrilled about it by any stretch of the imagination, but academia is your thing, so you don’t find it nearly as crushing as others do. You’re more terrified of the time period that comes afterwards, while you’re waiting for the results like Judgement day.
In the meantime, you’ve given up on trying to find a spot to study in the library, and you’ve been doing most of it in your small student room. You haven’t stepped outside in days when Shoko texts you to suggest a study night. You suspect that she hasn’t started working and intends to cram, but you take her up on the offer nonetheless.
You show up at her place right on time — you always are — with your notes and some snacks. You wait quietly after knocking, trying to make sense of the chatter you hear on the other side of the door. She had mentioned she would ask a few other people if they wanted to join, which you had assumed would be fine, but faced with the reality of it now you can feel a lump growing in your throat. Academia might be easy for you, but people… aren’t.
When the door opens to reveal Gojo Satoru, piercing blue eyes meeting yours through white locks of hair that he pushes out of his face a second later, you fully consider turning around and leaving.
“You made it,” he says, shooting you a wide grin.
“Hi,” you squeak in reply.
Gojo is a… friend. Ish. Kinda. You think. Well, he’s a friend of Shoko’s, anyway, so the two of you have hung out, socially, before. Up until last summer, you assumed he didn’t even know your name.
“Thank God you’re here,” Shoko says, appearing from behind him to grab your hand. “No one here wants to work. We need to whip these imbeciles into shape or something.”
“I’m working,” Nanami sighs from the table in the living room, where he’s sitting alone.
“I was just waiting for everyone to be here, Shoko,” Geto says, his voice soft and even, as he approaches the table.
You set your bag down, giving Nanami an sympathetic smile, and he pushes his glasses higher on his nose. When he nods at you, you’re pretty sure it’s a silent way of saying ‘thank you for not leaving me alone with them’.
“What are you guys starting with?” you ask, pulling some books out of your bag.
Everyone here has different majors, but with some classes in common. You’re not sure how efficient this enterprise is going to be, if you’re completely honest, but as Gojo lets himself fall on a chair with a dramatic sigh, you suppose it can’t be worse than if he was left to his own devices.
“I’m doing literature, algebra and physics tonight!” Haibara announces, perhaps a tad too enthusiastic. You don’t want to crush his hopes and dreams, but—
“You’re never going to get through all that in one night,” Nanami says with a frown.
“Don’t listen to him”, Gojo intervenes, “you can do anything you set your mind to.”
There are stars in Haibara’s eyes when he looks at him, but you notice the glances Gojo is stealing at Nanami, and the way his smile widens when Nanami grits his teeth in annoyance. You bite your lip so you don’t let out a chuckle.
“Do you want to start with literature with me?” you offer. “Nanami, you’ll have to handle algebra because I’m not taking any algebra classes this semester.”
The corner of Nanami’s lips curves to form a smile.
“It’s good that someone here is taking this seriously.”
“Ugh,” Gojo mutters. “Fine. Hey, Suguru, do you know what tests I have next week?”
Nanami buries his head in his hands with a pained groan, and you laugh again, lump gone from your throat now, as you move your chair to come sit next to Haibara. Gojo’s eyes follow your movement silently. When you lean over the same textbook as Haibara, shoulders brushing against his as you push a lock of hair behind your ear, his expression turns thoughtful. It’s only when Geto drops a book in front of him that he snaps out of it.
“Are you sure you don’t want to do shots instead?” he asks, tone sour.
“Man, don’t tempt me,” Shoko whines as she sits down as well. “The shots will have to wait.”
Truly, Gojo thinks, sadder words have never been spoken.
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Nanami calls it quits right before 10 pm. He’s tried to leave a few times by then, usually because of one of Gojo’s quips, but Shoko’s managed to keep him around until then. It doesn’t help how delighted Gojo gets by his reactions, and you can’t blame him for abandoning you. You don’t doubt for a second that he would have been much more productive without everyone else around.
“If they pass their exams, we should give ourselves all the credit for that,” he comments at your intention, right before walking out the door. “Good luck with them.”
Then he’s gone, before Gojo can start to protest about why he is not getting any encouragements, even though he’s suffering so much, and everyone is mean, and nothing about this is fun, and—
Haibara, despite his best intentions, falls asleep on the couch less than thirty minutes later. It was just supposed to be quick nap, but by midnight he’s still down, and you can’t bring yourself to wake him up. Plus it’s not like you were making a lot of progress with him anyway, so he just might be better off sleeping.
It’s not long after that that Shoko starts to get real antsy. So far, she has kept on track despite Gojo’s attempts at distracting her, but you can tell she is starting to get incredibly bored. Somehow, that doesn’t seem to be Gojo’s case, even if the way his leg bounces underneath his chair tells you he’s itching to do anything other than sit here doing nothing.
“Fuck it,” Shoko says, finally giving up. “I’m going to get something to eat.”
Geto frowns.
“Now? Alone?”
“As if anything would happen to her,” Gojo says, spinning a pen between his fingers. “She’ll be the scariest person out there.”
Geto rolls his eyes.
“I’ll come with you,” he tells Shoko, and she shrugs. “Do you want to come too, Satoru?”
Gojo lets himself fall down on his chair, looking at Geto with his head hanging behind the back of the chair.
“Nah,” he says after a few seconds of intense deliberation. “Can’t abandon the teacher here.”
You feel your face heating up.
“Oh, I mean, I’m sure I’ll be fine. If you want to go, you should—”
“It’s fine,” he handwaves your protests away. “I’ll finally get some work done without Shoko here to constantly distract me with—”
He bursts out laughing when Shoko throws her pen at him.
“We’ll be right back,” she announces, standing up. “You,” she points at Gojo, “play nice. And you,” she gives you a severe look, “don’t hesitate to hit him. I’m not joking.”
She leaves the room, escorted by Geto. Haibara doesn’t even stir when the door slams.
“Alright,” Gojo says, not wasting a second to reach for your chair so he can pull you closer to him, “it’s my turn to get my own personal tutor.” His fingers brush against your leg as he pulls you in, and you know, from how his eyes seem to drink in everything about you, that he doesn’t miss your quiet gasp nor the way your breath quickens. You’ve noticed this before, too. If he likes annoying Nanami, he seems to delight in your reactions at least as much — though he tries to make you laugh or to fluster you rather than piss you off.
“Um,” you say, with the eloquence that characterizes you around him, “what do you need help with?”
He tilts his head to the side as he studies you. You find him breathtaking, you always do, but you think you’ve gotten better at hiding it, so even if it feels like he’s looking right into your soul, you give him an easy smile.
Somehow, he is the one who ends up averting his eyes.
“How about philosophy?”
Right, the two of you share that one class on the history of ideas.
“Sure,” you say, already grabbing a book and thumbing through it. “I’ve taken quite a few notes for that class, actually, I can give them to you if you—”
“That’s boring,” he interrupts you. “We should do something else.”
You put down your book, intrigued, and something twists in your stomach when you see the look he’s giving you. He’s like a cat with a mouse, with exactly the same hunger in his eyes.
“What—” you clear your throat when your voice cracks. “What are you suggesting?”
“Well,” he leans forward, resting his elbow on the table and putting his chin in his palm, “I need an incentive to work, you know?”
You swallow. Sure.
“So how ‘bout I get a kiss for every right answer I give you?”
And you almost choke on air.
“What?” you manage to croak. Blood is rushing to your face, and it feels like your brain is short-circuiting. Your heart’s beating faster, hammering in your chest, and you feel your palms grow sweaty.
“C’mon,” he teases, reaching out to pull on a lock of your hair and twirl it around his finger, and you know, you know, he knows he’s got you right where he wants to, “help me study.”
“Gojo—”
“Satoru,” he all but purrs.
“Satoru,” you say, “what are you doing?”
“What do you mean?” he blinks innocently. “Just trying to find a fun way to study.”
You examine him carefully, try to figure out what, exactly, is going on behind these beautiful eyes of his. You’ve had— moments, with him. He fell asleep on your shoulder in the car once. He held your hand through a busy festival, teasing you about not wanting you to get lost, and later helped you get on his shoulders so you’d get a better view of the stage. The one time you agreed to accompany Shoko to the club, you remember his hands on your hips, his breath against your ear, the ghost of his lips to your neck. But nothing actually happened between the two of you. You’d told yourself that it was all a distraction for him, that he didn’t want more.
This isn’t exactly confirmation. You don’t doubt that it’s all in good fun still, and knowing you, and how hard you tend to fall, you should walk away while you have the chance.
But you really, really want to kiss him. Want to know what it would feel like to taste his lips, to have his body pressed against yours, to feel his hands all over you.
You always take the smart decision. This is not the smart decision. But…
“What if you get it wrong?” you ask.
Satoru blinks.
“You can, uh, spray me with a water bottle?”
You let out a brief laugh.
“Isn’t that a dog thing? That feels unethical, Satoru.”
He preens at your use of his name.
“You should take your chance,” he drawls. “Shoko says it’s really cathartic.”
You’re not sure you need catharsis, but you feel a little lighter now. It’s all a joke to him, clearly, and from what you’ve seen in the past couple of hours, he hasn’t seriously studied once. He’s not going to get the answers right. You don’t think he’s even trying to.
“Fine,” you say with a playful roll of your eyes, reaching out for a water bottle and positioning your chair so you’re facing him. “Who came up with the notion of civil disobed—"
“Thoreau, 1848, but the essay was republished with that name in 1866.”
You stare. Gojo gives you a lazy smile.
“Now where’s my kiss?”
“Um,” you say. You feel incredibly awkward now. He’s leaning back against his chair, with eyes that have not left you once since he’s suggested that idea. You— have to move, now, don’t you?
Very slowly, very hesitantly, you push yourself to your feet. Satoru doesn’t move at all, and you don’t know if it relieves you or stresses you out even more. The position is quite uncomfortable, too, with you standing and him sitting down. You don’t know that you’ve ever towered over him like that. Gingerly, you put a hand on his shoulder, and then you’re leaning over him, and then you’re kissing him, and then you’re moving away as fast as you can. This was just a peck, really, a press of your lips to his that lasted a second, tops, and that you’re already trying to forget about.
You’re not a teenager anymore, and you know this shouldn’t be getting to you that much, but it’s— it’s Satoru Gojo. You’ve worked very, very hard not to think of him like that, because you didn’t want to let yourself get hurt. And now, you’ve let yourself be dragged into this so easily? Ugh. You wish you could slap yourself.
“Okay,” you say, voice more high-pitched than you’d like, but still understandable, which you’re grateful for. “Next, um, can you explain what philosopher kings are?”
Surely—
“Of course,” Satoru pretty much sing-songs. “Plato thought that cities should be ruled by trained philosophers, because only a philosopher would know and act for the good of a city.” There’s a brief pause, before he adds, “Aristotle thought that was bullshit, though. For the record.”
And then he waits. You narrow your eyes at him.
“When did you study for that?”
“I never study,” he answers lightly.
Instead of standing up this time, you scoot your chair closer to him, and you lean forward. Satoru chuckles, but humors you — even if the temptation of leaning further back to make you come to him, because you’re just adorable when you’re flustered, is great. This time, when you kiss him, though, he presses forward before you can move away, his nose brushing against your cheek as he chases after you. And oh, what a sight you are after that, wide eyed, lips parted, hands tightening on your notes.
“Next?” he asks.
“Right,” you say. You’re— not sure what’s happening here, to be quite honest. Should you stop this? You— don’t think you want to, but you’re also not sure what this charade is all about. “Um. Spinoza thought that free will—”
“—could only be reached through knowledge, and that most people never obtained it.”
Okay.
“Aren’t you supposed to be a physics major?”
He raises an eyebrow, looking genuinely amused.
“Determinism’s a pretty big deal in science, actually, but let’s not change the subject here.”
You bite your lower lip, and his eyes track the movement like he’s starving for you.
You’re feeling hot all over, anticipation burning inside of you, and this time, you can’t pretend that he hasn’t done this on purpose. That he wanted to kiss you. You can’t quite reconcile the way you see yourself with that thought — how could Gojo Satoru want you, of all people? — but you find that it doesn’t matter.
You lean towards him once more, and this time, you let yourself kiss him. Really kiss him. You press your lips to his, soft at first, but when you don’t move away immediately, you feel him pressing against you, one hand coming to cup your cheek. His teeth pull at your bottom lip, and you let out a involuntary gasp. He doesn’t waste the opportunity to slide his tongue inside your mouth, and you keep inching closer to him, hands coming to his shoulders for support. You can feel yourself melt into him, and you curse your common sense when it leads you to break away from the kiss.
It doesn’t deter Satoru, though, because as you do, his hand slides under your knee, and next thing you know, he’s pulled you into his lap. His face is deliciously flushed, pink hue under the pale skin. He looks up at you, long fingers tightening around your thighs.
“We should waste less time like that,” he says.
Shoko likes to say he’s insufferable, and you can see why. Everything all seems to come so easy to him, and you’re defenseless against the way your heart races. When his eyes are on you, it feels like you’re the only person in the world. You’re not usually the type to indulge in that idea, but, ah, what’s the harm, as long as you know how to come back to earth later on?
You shake your head as you take him in.
“How are you even doing that?” you ask, mildly peeved.
“Haven’t you heard?” he grins widely. “I’m a genius.”
You roll your eyes at him. You’ve heard about that, of course, about how he maintains stellar grades without breaking a sweat. You just hadn’t seen that in application until now. In class, he’s usually asleep, or taking great joy in bothering the teacher. You’ve never seen him try to get something.
“Well, where’s my question?”
You sigh, putting your arms around his neck. You left your notes on the table, meaning that you might be less prepared than he is, actually.
“Descartes famously said—”
“Cogito ergo sum. C’mon, rational doubt is at the heart of science. I’m starting to think you’re just trying to kiss me.”
You do want to kiss him, but you have the self-control to shrug.
“Well, if you don’t want to—”
His mouth is on yours before you can think of how to end that sentence. He kisses you hungrily, hands gripping your hips as he tries to pulls you closer to him. Your chest presses into his, and you tighten your hold around him, fingers running through his hair. He grunts when you pull on it slightly, tilts his head back a little more to give you better access to his mouth, and when his tongue brushes against yours once more, you can’t help but to rock your hips against his. The friction makes you gasp into his mouth, and one of your hands falls down to his shoulder, fisting his shirt as you try to find better support.
“Fuck,“ you hear him mumble underneath you, right as you feel him grow hard. He pushes up against you. His fingers dig into your skin, one hand slipping under your shirt to run over your skin, leaving a trail of fire behind. It moves higher, brushing against your bra.
Against your better judgement, your hands travel down his body, tracing over his muscles. You feel him twitch under you, and when you roll your hips once more, with much more intent than the first time, he groans.
“Satoru,” you whisper, though even you don’t know if it’s a plea for him to stop or to keep going.
His eyes widen, and you feel him lift you up easily, pushing you onto the table. You lean back slightly, resting your weight on one hand. He’s red all over now, from his ears to his neck. His pupils are wide, his lips swollen, his hair messy. He looks like sin.
You don’t want to think about what you look like.
“C’mon,” he says. “Last question.”
“Haibara’s in the living room,” you point out. Even you know where this is leading.
“He’s dead asleep,” he merely shrugs. He’s mesmerizing, but you note that the glimmer of amusement that always dances in his eyes. This feels— serious.
“Um,” you say, licking your lips and watching how he bites his as his grip on your waist tightens once more — like he’s holding himself back. “Confucius—”
And then, the front door opens.
Gojo clicks his tongue and reluctantly steps back as you jump down from the table, beelining for the bathroom — you know that kiss is written all over your face.
You glare at yourself in the mirror. Your body’s still tingling, and you’re aching with want, now that release has been denied to you, but you know better. You’re supposed to know better. You take a few seconds to comb through your hair with your hands, and when it no longer looks like someone’s, well, kissed you senseless, you cautiously step back outside.
“We got you some fuel,” Shoko announces loudly, before getting shushes by Geto. He points in Haibara’s direction, who’s started snoring slightly.
“Thank you so much,” you say sweetly. “I’ll— Why are you wet?”
Gojo deadpans as he looks at you but, well, there’s water dripping from his hair, down his chin, and onto the shirt your hands were fisted in just a few minutes earlier, so, you think the question is valid.
“He was splashing water on his face when we got here,” Geto supplies helpfully. “Gojo runs hot.”
“And now it’s all over my floor,” Shoko mutters. “Next time, just wait ‘til the bathroom’s free, huh?”
Gojo looks like he has something to say just on the tip of his tongue, but he glances at you and seems to swallow it back.
“If anything, I made it cleaner,” he proclaims, leaning back on his chair. “Shoko, how long has it been since you cleaned in here? We really need to find you a partner who’s willing to do that stuff, otherwise you’ll keep living in fil—”
Shoko’s pencil case lands right in the middle of his face.
“You absolute brat,” she spits out, “I can’t believe you’d have the nerve to tell me something like that when you rely exclusively on Geto to—”
The bickering continues, but you tune it out. Under the table, Satoru’s knee brushes against yours. It’s almost hesitant at first, before he leans his leg against yours, when he realizes you’re not moving away. This isn’t the smart choice, either, but, ah, you’re always, always the smart girl. Is it so bad to have a night of fun? Is it so bad that you want to know what it would feel like to have him, even if it’s just once?
He’ll break your heart, the voice of reason says in the back of your mind, but then Satoru looks back at you, checking to see if you’re laughing at how he’s making fun of Shoko and, well.
You think you’ll let him.
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Any and all feedback in the form of asks, reblogs, comments, tags is highly encouraged and appreciated~ If you enjoy my work, interactions are what keep me writing and motivated!
I haven't written anything in months and I think it shows but, well, I have to restart somewhere lol, so I hope it was still fun for you and you enjoyed yourselves here for a little while. Thank you for reading <3
prequel
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jacquesthepigeon · 10 months ago
Note
On the subject of Mary Sue's, I look for two things
1) the way the character is treated by the narrative
2) if the characters skills make sense to their backstory
Like, to me a Mary Sue is a character who is always framed as a solution.
If a problem affects the characters, the Sue will have just the right skill set to fix things. And whatever the Sue says is always framed as correct, regardless of if what they're saying or doing would actually help or be the right thing in that situation
Maribug doesn't hit either criteria. She's the narratives favorite punching bag, and she's never pulled a random skill that she shouldn't have out to fix a problem. Her main thing is how generally creative she is, and how she's able to work with what she's given, and while her ideas can get kinda nuts she's never suddenly been a genius computer hacker when they need one to save the day
Adrichat hits one of these criteria, having the narrative favor him and always frame him as correct, but as he doesn't pull out new random skills whenever the plot demands, I personally don't count him as a Mary Sue either
The only time I called bull on one of Marinette’s skills was her being good at football/soccer. That girl can’t play ball sports to save her life and they know it. Except for basketball.
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brayneworms · 10 months ago
Text
prompt: l lawliet + food play + pink
wc. 2.8k. gn!reader, foodplay, virgin!l, handjobs, sliiiight come eating, reader is a wet cat in a cardboard box kinda, safe sane and consensual, no real power dynamics.
L contextualises things in the way he sees the world.
Strings of numbers, statistics, behavioural patterns that he's memorised to a 'T' until he can tell guilt from the aversion of an eye or fury from the remnants of nails pressed into the palm of someone's hand. It's why maybe something like sex or desire is a struggle for him. It's not that he doesn't understand it, it's more like he doesn't see the—the need for it, or whatever. You chalk it up to him being extremely busy and also probably totally asexual and don't think about it.
(Don't think about it much.)
It sort of surprises you that it's you he corners with his questions about. Maybe he's more embarrassed than he lets on—as it is, he looks cool as a cucumber save for the faintest shade of pink across his cheekbones. There's no way he would escape a conversation about it from anyone on the squad without a degree of ragging. Misa would squeal like a pig if L dared to broach the topic with her, you're sure. Matsuda would blush bright red and trip over all his words, and Aizawa would probably stare at him like he'd set his firstborn on fire.
And Light is Light. He probably knows little more than L, for all the airs he puts on.
So it's you he comes to. When it first starts, you think it has something to do with a case or lead he's hunting. Tell me, have you had sex before?
Perched like a frog, licking whipped cream off his finger. You don't know if he's doing to be provocative or not; don't know which is worse, that he's aware of what he's doing or not.
"This isn't exactly proper workplace conversation L."
A flicker of a smile. Cheeky, omniscient. "Feel free to report me to HR, in that case."
You do answer—honestly and concisely, if not with a shade of awkwardness. He's essentially your boss. But L seems so far removed from the worlds of sexuality and desire that it seems harmless, occupational, and eventually it stops feeling embarrassing. Out of nowhere—what is the purpose of restrains in an intimate context? Why do you think some people like to feel as though they have no control in the bedroom? Would you say that visual pornography has given watchers unrealistic expectations of actual intercourse?
One night, the two of you alone in front of a big glowing screen, turning to him and asking. "Why do you ask me this stuff, anyway? Is it for a case?"
"No," he says neutrally. A quick glance from his dark eyes you could almost describe as coy. "I'm just... curious."
"Curious," you echo, deadpan. "You?"
"Does that surprise you?" he murmurs. You almost feel that your honest answer—yes—would be insulting now, so instead you just shrug and mumble something incoherent under your breath. "You're not completely wrong. I thought having a better understanding of things like sex and power dynamics would be beneficial in the long run. Most people have a greater knowledge of it than me, which—puts me at a disadvantage." He says these last words with an air of revulsion, as though the very concept of knowing less than someone sours in his mouth, and you chuckle at his childishness.
"That makes sense." You pause. Wonder if you're reading this all wrong, then barrel ahead anyway. "Wouldn't actually experiencing it for yourself lend a better understanding than anything else, though?"
L's eyebrow raises. His smile has vanished, leaving him bug-eyed and unreadable. "What are you suggesting?"
He's not stupid, and you're not subtle. He knows exactly what you were suggesting. The fact that he's trying to get you to go into more detail rather than firing you on the spot is probably a good sign, and further than you expected to get. You squirm in your seat.
"You know. It's like being told about how something feels rather than knowing," you say awkwardly. "I'm just—can I ask—"
"It only seems fair," L says slowly. "After I've been badgering you with my own questions for so long." His chair spins; he rests his wrists on his rucked-up knees, fingers steepled in front of him. "Please."
Hot-faced, you spin your chair aimlessly. "Okay, well, uh—have you? I mean, before?"
L hesitates before he shakes his head, an almost imperceptible twitch that has his dark hair floating. You swallow the sudden large dry lump in your throat.
"Okay. So. Probably somewhere to start," you mumble.
L seems to consider this. "Would you be willing?"
You don't have the right to be surprised, with all the dancing around the subject, but you are, still. You choke on your spit and fly around to look at him, which is a mistake. His gaze is so dark and intense, and you think he can see right through you before you even open your mouth to answer.
"I'm not—" you stammer, with no idea what you're going to say. "I mean—"
"I had assumed you would be," L goes on calmly, but you catch the slight flicker of his eyes, a ghost of uncertainty that makes your chest squeeze. "If I have read your responses incorrectly, though, feel free to forget I asked. I can guarantee no awkwardness tomorrow."
"It's not that," you blurt. L blinks at you, go on. "It's just... do you have any idea what you're, you know. Into? Where to start?"
L's eyes flicker, the barest furrow knitted between his brows. You can tell he hasn't thought too hard about it. "What would you suggest?" he asks, curling his long fingers over his knees.
You swallow. "Well... anything you like the idea of, I guess. Something familiar, to ease you into it."
L's eyes roll over to his desk, where a perfectly glistening slice of strawberry cake waits for him. Pink sponge and halved red berries, topped with pale pink cream. "Familiar," he echoes. "I may have a suggestion."
-
So you feed L a strawberry just to get started.
Hold it up. It's distinctly awkward; L just stares at it for a moment, the berry dusted with frosting that glistens between your fingers. You tell him, "If you're not comfortable with this, sex is probably going to be—"
He leans forward and plucks the fruit from between your fingers; you feel the barest ghosting of teeth, the sweep of his tongue sharp and curious against the pads of your fingers before he leans back again. You watch the motions of his jaw and throat as he chews and swallows. Pins you with his headlamp stare, wide and dark.
You deconstruct the strawberry cake carefully, removing the berries and setting them to the side. Cast a look over at him. "Take off your shirt?"
L twists the hem of this shirt for a few moments before removing it. It feels so strange to see him devoid of clothing, like a knight removing their armour. Pale ribs, pinched waist. He's not whipcord-thin like you had imagined—there's lean muscle packed under the skin, his stomach flat and somewhat soft. It flexes almost nervously when you look at it. He reclines back on his bed without being told, bracing his weight onto his elbows, legs dangling off the side.
"You sure about all this?" you ask, glancing from the smooth planes of his white skin—shit—to the plate of crumbling pink dessert. "Didn't think you'd be into, you know. All the mess."
"I have a shower," L says reflexively.
You take that as permission to approach with the plate. You place the strawberry halves in a red dotted line, starting at his clavicle, watching him shiver and flex at the cold touch. Down—one at the bottom of his ribs, one above his bellybutton, one at his naval just above the low sling of his jeans. He's started to flush, prettily pink down his chest. It makes you slightly dizzy.
"Okay. So. Okay." You try not to feel so nervous, but it's more like you feel out of place, or time, or space. It feels surreal, basically. Standing between L's legs with your fingers stained pink from fruit and frosting. Him looking up at you like that, all big dark round eyes and slightly parted lips. Damn it. You take a deep, steadying breath. "Okay, so, I'll start now if you're okay. And just say if you don't want—if you want to stop, or if you don't like anything, just say, okay?"
"I understand the basic premises of consent, if that's what you're trying to affirm." The words are all L, but there's an element of breathlessness to them.
"Just making sure we're clear," you mutter. You lean forward and smooth a palm over his collarbones. They're sharp, they jut up to meet your hand like cut diamond, and you hear and see his breath hitch, which is slightly intoxicating. His skin is warmer and softer than you thought it would be. You run your hands over his shoulders and neck, which he squirms away from with a wrinkled nose.
"No neck?" you ask.
He shakes his head. So no neck.
Once you're done exploring this part of his body, you lean forward, close your lips around the strawberry and bite the end of it, sinking your teeth into the flesh. Pink juice runs down your chin; L's eyes follow it, transfixed, as you tilt your head forward and push your mouthful against his lips. They part unquestioningly, and you push the strawberry into his mouth with your tongue. Your lips brush together, tantalising and sweet with sugar. A mimic of a kiss, a palimpsest of intimacy. You don't want to overwhelm him, anyway.
This goes on; your hands over his chest next, the soft pectorals. An experimental brush of your thumb over his left nipple that makes his whole body shudder. He's so sensitive, reacting to every prod and touch and tweak with a jerk and a shiver. Gooseflesh blooms up his skin, pebbling his nipples, and when you tweak the other one gently he lets out a choked sound.
Finding the strawberry nestled under his ribs. Taking it between your teeth and passing it to him. His face gets pinker with each one. Stomach, concave, flexing with every hard breath. A ticklish spot over his belly button. Strawberry, bite, pass. The flex of his jaw as he chews.
Fingers over his waist, indenting the skin as much as you dare. You try not to think of how easily he would bruise. Brushing your touch over his lower abdomen makes his breath catch again. You find the strawberry, hold it between your lips. L cranes his neck, searching this time—he thinks he knows the game, has memorised the steps, found the pattern, the sequence. He doesn't know that the best sex is the unpredictable kind. This time, you press your lips against him and when your tongue pushes the strawberry into his mouth it stays there. His lips part, slack against yours, either in shock or inexperience. You allow yourself the briefest twirl of your tongue against his before pulling back with a wet pop.
L stares at you as you retreat. The strawberries leave pale pink residue on his skin. Pulling back fully reveals the hardness between his legs, pushing up against the dark denim of his jeans. He grunts when your eyes land on it, either out of embarrassment or frustration. You swallow and its like sandpaper.
"Still want me to...?"
"I have not changed my mind," he replies, slightly hoarsely and a beat slower than usual. You shrug, smooth your hands over the tent at his crotch, and he whines. It's the most searing noise you've pulled from him yet, and all from some halfhearted palming over the jeans. It sends a thrill zipping through you, hot and addicting. His arms shake with the weight of holding himself up, neck craning to follow as you sink to your knees between his legs.
You unzip him, pop the button, and he groans slightly at the freedom from the constraints of his clothes. He's fully hard, straining against his dark underwear. You experiment, rubbing at the tip, feeling for the wet spot, and he keens and thrashes, losing his stability and crashing to the mattress. He makes a frustrated noise just after, as though cursing himself for his own lack of control.
"That—" he swallows hard, breathes shakily. "That feels..."
Your hand hovers. "Am I stopping?"
"No, I don't..." He scrambles. L scrambles over his words. "Please, continue."
You stroke him over his underwear for a few concentrated minutes, mostly enjoying the way he twitches and huffs and occasionally makes soft, whiny noises, the way he starts to rut his hips against your hand. No technique, no rhythm, just some sort of baseless desire that you find incredibly hot. There's almost a frustration to it that makes you want to laugh—of course there would be nothing more agonising to someone like L than seeing what he wanted so close to him but being unable to accomplish it himself.
When he starts gritting his teeth, you pull his boxers down to his thighs and he makes a choking, embarrassed sound. When you wrap your fingers around his cock for the first time, finding it velvety-soft and leaking, his eyes roll back and his hips arch into the loose wet tunnel of your hand. "Oh," is all he says. Small and soft like he's surprised. His neck twists and his mouth presses into the starched white sheets. "Oh," he says again as your fist moves slowly, stroking with intent, up and down. He's not overly big, fits nicely in your hand, makes swiping over the head where the pre beads with your thumb nice and convenient. And you love the way he shudders and thrashes when you do it.
"How does that feel?" Your voice is lower than you remember it being. L cracks a bleary eye open; his face is flushed bright pink now, a flush that bleeds all the way down his chest, blending in with the strawberry stains.
"It feels," he starts, before his brow pinches. "I—I am not sure how to—how to describe..."
"It's okay," you tell him. His thighs shake, flexing against the edge of the mattress. When he tips his head back the cords in his pretty throat bulge, so biteable. "You can come whenever."
"I wasn't—oh," he gasps, squirming. "I wasn't aware I n-needed your—permission, oh."
"Yeah, well," you say intelligently, a little struck dumb by the sight before you. "Just making sure we're on the same page."
"A-and what page is that?" he pants, thrusting his hips messily into your hand. He's so fucking sensitive that you swear you can see his eyes growing shiny.
"The one where I help you out, so don't be a brat," you murmur. L laughs breathlessly, trying, you think, to summon some retort. You twist your fist around him and it died, half-formed in his brain, his eyes rolling back and fingers flexing hard in the sheets.
After another minute, he reaches out and grabs your wrist hard enough to bruise. He doesn't say it—can't, maybe. But you know. Your pace speeds up just a touch and he honest to god moans, spilling out of him soft and breathy before he comes, streaking over his stomach in pearly arcs. You watch him flinch at the contact, fingers slipping on your wrist. His chest flexes—in, out, in, out.
You collect a big scoop of pink frosting on your finger and dip it in the come starting to cool between his pecs before pressing it to his lips. L's brow wrinkles, startled—but he opens his lips and lets your fingers pass into the hot cavern of his mouth. Like a cat he licks your finger clean, pointed pink tongue prodding with no technique or flourish, just something steadfast, something stubborn.
You do him the dignity of tucking his softened cock back into his underwear and zipping up his jeans. Unsure how to proceed until L sits up rather abruptly. His hair is even more tousled from his tossing and turning as he reaches for a tissue to wipe himself down.
He looks at you. "I understand it's customary to offer some sort of equivalent exchange in these circumstances." A pause whilst he gathers his breath. "You'll have to forgive me. I'm not quite feeling up to the task."
His tone is normal, if a little shaky. You rock back on your heels. "Did you like it?"
L blinks at you. "My curiosity has been sated," he says, carefully. "Yes, I believe I did enjoy it."
Well, that's a relief if nothing else. The pink remnants of the strawberry cake it on the plate; the shade matches his blush.
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thecheshirerat · 1 month ago
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On TAZ-
Wow that sounds like I’m about to summarize some sort of discourse but I promise I’m not. I guess I’ll say that I really like this show and I will keep listening even if my worst fears come to pass, so keep that in mind!
For reference, I started listening near the end of Amnesty.
I’ve noticed, with the past few arcs- really since Ethersea- the narratives have just… not been fulfilling their promises, so to speak. They’ve been placing a lot of guns that don’t go off. What I mean by that is, the characters are great. Excellent, really. Lady Godwin? HELL YES. Emerich Dreadway? Fuck yeah! And so on! And the settings and premises have been epic- the goofiness and also horrifying nature of Engrave, the mad and thrilling world of Steeplechase- these things are COOL AS FUCK.
and then the actual narratives keep flopping?
And honestly, I notice it most in the endings, because you can really tell when an ending doesn’t land. You feel the sense of disappointment. But with vs. Dracula, for example, I could kinda see leading up to it that the ending couldn’t really BE anything special, because they lowkey didn’t set themselves up for it.
They spent the campaign fucking around in Engrave, finding clues and solving problems and not really experiencing any particularly meaningful character arcs or growth or, idk, forming relationships? So there wasn’t much to pay off, I’m not gonna lie!
Of course it doesn’t feel quite as dissatisfying when you’re in the thick of it, because they’re funny and the stuff is cool and- oh hey! Lady Godwin’s been turned into a werehorse against her will?? that’s got some real potential for a LOT of allegories and exploration of some fun character development! And then it’s kinda played as a joke. And then they do that again and again.
And they actually said that that was a move they made intentionally, in the TTAZZ. I’m not quoting them perfectly here, this is from memory, but I do remember them mentioning that they wanted lighthearted comedy without the burden of real life story stuff. And I get that, honestly, but… it’s not the choice I would’ve made. I do think you can keep a lighthearted tone while also, idk, forming relationships and wholesomely engaging with some amount of emotion. And sometimes going way too deep is funny as a tone shift!
But I digress. One thing that’s also popped out to me is the almost complete lack of any kind of romantic storyline or even references. This becomes obvious if you’re in a fandom because everyone is always dying to ship SOMEONE, and you can tell when people are really getting desperate. I don’t blame them for not wanting to roleplay romance with their family, and I do think stories lacking romance are COOL and SHOULD BE ENCOURAGED!
However if you can’t find ANYBODY to ship together… that may mean you just don’t have character bonds. The growing popularity of the PC polycule is interesting to me; I wonder if it’s partially because
a) none of the pcs have significant relationships outside of their party and
b) even within the party, there doesn’t seem to be much chemistry between any given pair of characters…? I hope I’m making my point well here- the PCs all seem equally close and have more or less the same relationship to all of their compatriots with little distinction, meaning, essentially, no shipping fodder that doesn’t involve just all of ‘em.
Either way, it makes me wonder if I can blame the “Graduation has too many NPCs!” critique. They really stopped giving the parties tag-along main NPCs after graduation, with the exception of maybe.. Urchin? Kodira? Shlabethany? Poppy? and even they get relatively little “screen” time. Steeplechase has great NPCs, I love them to death, but none of the PCs seem to ever have one on one conversations with NPCs or each other that do not explicitly focus on the plot. And I think that’s part of why the characters feel so underdeveloped despite having spent a lot of time with them- because in this character-driven genre, we get very little insight into their feelings or motivations or even their rudimentary backstories.
I started watching Fantasy High recently and it made me realize a couple things about TAZ.
1) Recently, TAZ has sooo few core NPCs, and it’s weird that the characters aren’t doing more one-on-one purely character based scenes. And that makes it really tough to develop them.
2) TAZ is- and I should have realized this before- one of many good dnd podcasts. They’re probably looking for a niche they can master.
And it sounds like they’re trying to get back to that old “Here there be Gerblins!” energy. They’ve referenced it so many times in recent TTAZZes- they wanted to be job-focused, allowing story stuff to happen organically, so they tried a more open world vibe with Ethersea. They wanted to be less afraid to kill stuff, so they tried playing criminals (and were still afraid to kill stuff). They wanted to be silly and light on character, as they tackled with taz vs dracula. Now they’re trying to bring in the silly cartoon vibe with Abnimals. I think they’re trying to make that family-friendly, funny and goofy show their niche. Something other actual plays can’t be better at them at.
And honestly it kinda makes me sad, that they keep trying to go back to Balance while ignoring everything they learned during it. Because I loved Dust. Because I loved Amnesty. Because I loved Ethersea. I loved these past arcs! But they keep doing their brilliant characters dirty for some reason!!! And i don’t know why!!!!
You know that meme about people who ask questions in movies and then the person responds “Have you ever been to a movie before? You watch them and the information is revealed.” There have been so many times in TAZ recently where information has Not been revealed and if they keep doing it the audience will stop bothering to suspend their disbelief, because the trust just isn’t there.
What is Montrose’s deal? What on earth was Carmine Denton’s whole thing? Tell me more about Zoox’s feelings, about Devo’s past, about Amber’s future. Show me how Lady Godwin feels about the body horror that is her life- like, seriously! WHY DID WE HAVE TO COMPLETELY DISMISS THE OPPORTUNITY TO DISCUSS GENERATIONAL TRAUMA IN MUTT’S LIFE FOR A JOKE??
Do you remember in Steeplechase where the boys were getting medical attention or something- i don’t remember, but they were all in one room and only talking about The Plot. And Poppy literally banged on the door (speaking for both Justin and me, tbh) and was like “does anyone want to share any feeeeelings??” and they were like NOPE! and they moved on!!
like. cmon. you can’t just put a character like montrose out there and then leave them severely underdeveloped to the point that what would be interesting in proper context, with audience insight, becomes confusing and chaotic.
I just wish they would take their stories as seriously as we do.
It feels to me like they don’t believe in themselves, and it makes me sad. Maybe they didn’t get the response they wanted from Ethersea and so they’ve been trying to pivot, hoping to recapture whatever it was that earned them a loyal audience.
Again, I love them. They’re so funny and I’ll keep listening until the day they stop making this show, and when it happens I’ll cry.
But i KNOW they have more in them. Remember the “we’ll grow gills” monologue from Justin in the Prologues? Remember Travis’s SOLID acting with Devo? Or his awesome choice to give Lyndon/Beef a clearly delineated work/irl identity? His excellent narration and prose? Remember when Montrose described being lonely?! Remember all those moments where Shit Got Real and you cared??? The nanofather said some dope shit! dracula and victor and sweater dracula had such a wild dynamic! Clint’s acting in Dust 2- I can’t remember the characters name right now- was ASTOUNDING, I genuinely didn’t know he had that in him and it blew me away!
I’m not referencing Balance on purpose, both because the fandom is way to hung up on it and because I want to prove that you don’t even have to look at Balance, or even Post-Balance arcs, to see this kind of good cool stuff!
GAAAAAAAGHHHH!!! I want them to have fun. But also. We’re starving out here.
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samheughanswife · 5 months ago
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youtube
What is a kiss? Usually a way to express love, affection or as part of a greeting.
So let’s put this into perspective.
. Cast photographed together before boarding the bus that drove them to Murrayfield. So it’s a given that greetings were exchanged. Kisses and hugs, at the very beginning of the class excursion to TS concert with both the Headmistress and her deputy in attendance.
. Arrival and settling into the VIP tent and waiting for the pre show performance. Drinks, talking and familiarising themselves with the setup. Access, security, toilets.
. Sam and Caitriona would have been cognisant that the performance was filmed. All the other performances have been with multiple cameras and drones. TS set the standards very high with the use of technology so everyone can enjoy and benefit from her concerts.
. The chances of being filmed were high. They were very close to the stage and in the line of sight of the multiple cameras. These are two people very well versed in outdoor and location filming. Not novices. They would have seen the crew pre show.
. Paramore start their set with introductions and then their performance.
. Not sure how long they were in attendance before Paramore came on stage and not my job to find out. But suffice to say co-star catchup interactions were done and dusted.
What the video shows is a woman, Caitriona, so intuitively and intimately comfortable with Sam that she draws him in, arm around his neck and kisses him. Twice. It’s there on film. And it’s this that has the tumblrinas knickers so twisted.
We see a Caitriona who clearly not only “likes” her costar ( you know that she is said to hate him) but initiates UNNECESSARY closeness and deep affection, LOVE, for Sam whichever way you look at it. It was hours into being together on the excursion, not minutes.
These aren’t stills or screenshots. It’s on film. In technicolour. Swifty technicolour 🩷💚🩵🩶💙❤️💛🤎💜.
The existence of this video was dropped into the inbox of multiple accounts. It was there to watch and disseminate and ultimately share.
The only one to do so was @sgiandubh. I thank you so much and I’m saddened but not surprised that you have had to deal with the typical bullshit that comes from sharing any content that rattles the entrenched group think and mindset of so many.
“You think I’d leave your side, baby
You know me better than that
You think I’d leave when you’re down on your knees
I wouldn’t do that” By your Side, Sade 🤎
Caitriona showed not only her support for Sam after the HH pap walk but love as well. Platonic if you aren’t a believer and of course for me a woman who was unafraid and with zero fucks to give because she was aware that there was a chance it would be seen and still she moved in with the kisses and hugs.
Smooth operator ( sorry couldn’t help myself 😘)
N.B. Real life happens, I’m not here hitting refresh 24/7.
I’ve enjoyed reading the experts trying to make it make sense. The discomfort is real.
Caitriona forcing herself to get through a few hours of non work ( but it kinda was) with a co star she has barely tolerated these past few years and what do we see, deep down love and affection.
As as it’s often screeched ‘photos or it didn’t happen’ well we have video footage!!
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alchemistc · 4 months ago
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(dys)functional | bucktommy 1/1
an: the hockey au keeps growing, have some tommy whump in the meantime
read on ao3
"Hey," Tommy says, rolling the word over his tongue, letting the door close behind him and leaning his head back against it as it goes. Evan glances up, and immediately sets the knife in his hands down, expression going concerned the moment he sees the look on Tommy's face.
"Uh wha - what's wrong?"
The concern in his voice is ratcheted up in a way Tommy doesn't quite understand - he knows the look on his face is a little resigned but Evan looks stressed. "I'm gonna have to reschedule our weekend," he tells him, already shifting away from the door, moving in, chasing after the distressed little tilt of Evan's head, completely incapable of not trying to fix it even though his mind is going in about fifty different directions, right now.
Around the corner of the island, into Evan's space, and Evan melts just enough for Tommy to get his hands around Evan's hips. "Is everything okay?"
Tommy grimaces. "Not - not really, no. I've got to catch a flight in about six hours."
Evan goes stiff under his hands. "O-okay."
There's an art to fully grasping his tone, in these moments. He's - not an easy read, exactly, because his default seems to always be doing a terrible job of hiding whatever it is he's feeling, but that doesn't actually mean he's not masking the actual issue. It's confusion, mostly, maybe a little bit of hurt, a quiet sense of foreboding in his expression as he leans back to get a good look at Tommy's face, like he's searching for an answer for a question he doesn't know if he's allowed to ask.
Evan shifts impatiently, stormy expression clearing up. "Can - do you need to -" He makes a face Tommy knows is aimed at himself, a little recrimination for not being able to gather up the proper words in the proper order. He pulls in a deep breath. "Okay, so this is maybe too much to throw at you right now but those are kinda famous last words for me and I'm - will you tell me why so I'm not thinking up worst case scenarios here?"
Tommy slides in, fingers curling into the hem of Evan's shirt, gripping, tugging just enough that they both drift into one another. "It's my father." Brow furrowed, Evan nods, and waits, still rigid in the circle of Tommy's arms. And Tommy really does have to leave, soon, pack an overnight bag and try to get a couple hours of sleep before the slog to John Wayne, but he's a little concerned that leaving right now is going to send Evan into a tailspin. Thank God he'd decided to drive over first, tell him in person - he's missing a heap of context here but clearly a phone call would have been the wrong move. "He's - I have to..."
Evan knows the basics, bare minimum shit because Tommy hates acknowledging how much his father had fucked him up, how many years of therapy have been required to untangle the dad shaped knots in his brain.
"I don't really have all the details, yet, but my uncle called and I - I'm needed, apparently. I don't." Tommy has felt wrong-footed since the moment the name flashed across his phone screen, he doesn't talk to them, to any of them, and now his uncle has given him a vague 'Tom you need to come home, it's your pop' and his sister isn't answering her messages. Tommy takes a breath, realizes his hands have tightened into fists in the seams of Evan's shirt. "What do you mean famous last words?"
Evan is studying him carefully, elbows bowed behind him because he's got his palms curled around Tommy's fists, eyes shifting over Tommy's face, and Tommy knows he's seeing the shit Tommy likes to keep under lock and key. "It - it can wait. Tommy, do you need me to come with you?" Head tilted, gaze assessing, fingers shifting, soothing over the stretched tight skin of Tommy's knuckles.
It's too soon for that. He doesn't want Evan to see that part of him, the piece of the puzzle that Tommy has had to chip at, and shave and sand down to make fit, that ugly little part of his life he'd shed the day he'd set his house key on the dining room table and left for boot camp.
It's not too soon - he doesn't want Evan to ever see that.
He's also suddenly incredibly aware of how nice it would be to finally, finally have someone he knows is in his corner for whatever bullshit he's ten hours away from walking into. His grip loosens and Evan seizes the opportunity, awkwardly lacing his fingers through Tommy's. It's a weird angle, uncomfortable with the current positioning of their arms, but it feels a bit like a lifeline. "I can't ask you to do that."
"You're not. I'm offering."
There's a stubborn part of him that doesn't want to accept. He's kept his life out here so separate; even Sal, who'd kept all his other secrets for going on a decade, barely knows shit about his family. He has a good life, rich and fulfilling. Out here. He's got Evan, who'd do practically anything for his friends, his family. Tommy can't justify subjecting him to whatever garbage the Kinard's have going on three thousand miles across the country.
Evan tugs at his hands, shifting his weight enough to send Tommy stumbling half a step into him. Toe to toe, gazes catching again, because Evan is seeking him out, Tommy feels some of the weight lift off his shoulders.
"Okay."
It gives him the excuse of leaving as soon as possible, once he gets there, at the very least.
Evan nods. Whatever weird tension he'd been carrying ebbs from his shoulders and Tommy puts a pin in that - he's spiraling and upset but for a second Evan had been, too, and he needs to circle back to that when he can think straight.
He's got his phone out, free hand digging into Tommy's front pocket, and Tommy blinks, tries to think of something clever to say, something flirty and wry. They were supposed to go out tonight: dinner, maybe dancing, after, if Tommy could convince him. Then a three day stretch of matching days off - a drive up the coast, a little rental within walking distance of a beach, a seafood place that made a lobster roll almost as good as the ones up in Maine. He'd been contemplating whether or not it was too early to bring up Evan's lease.
Evan fishes Tommy's phone out and presses in his passcode without a second thought, and something eases in Tommy's chest. He trusts Evan. Has trusted him, consistently, unquestioningly - he'd given him his passcode on a whim when the screen went dark on it halfway through Evan adding his food to whatever they'd been in the middle of ordering in before Evan got derailed by a story about the anatomy of seahorses.
"Did you already book a flight?"
Tommy nods. Points out the Southwest icon he'd moved to his home screen for easy access.
He doesn't argue when Evan guides him around the island to one of the stools, there, fight and flight both losing out to freeze as Evan takes charge.
It's not their usual dynamic. Evan has been happy to set the pace, but once he takes his cues from him, Tommy's typically the one taking point. But Tommy feels unmoored, and it's nice, actually, to have Evan press a kiss to his temple, to pull up his flight information, to squeeze Tommy's shoulder as he books a second ticket on the credit card Tommy's really only let him use once or twice, happy to be seeing someone who will actually let him pay more than his fair share, who seems flattered that Tommy's always got his wallet out before Evan even thinks to reach for his.
Everything's a bit jumbled. He's halfway to Jersey already, maybe, pulled into the riptide and dashed against the rocks of Richard Kinard's bullshit, he doesn't even know why he's going, just that his uncle had told him he needed to come. He comes up for air feeling battered and bruised when Evan rubs a hand down his shoulder, over his arm, up again with harder pressure as his palm shifts down and over his spine.
Evan's face hovers close to his. "I'm just gonna call Bobby, and then we can pick up something to eat on the way over to your place." The upside to having something already planned is that Evan's already got a bag packed with everything he'll need to travel.
It sounds so simple, so effortless, and Tommy's throat feels tight when he swallows. He gets two fingers into Evan's belt loop before he can pull away, and Evan comes easily, stepping into the spread of Tommy's legs, forehead coming down the few inches to meet Tommy's. "You - thank you."
"Of course," Evan says, a little wry, an echo of Tommy's own favorite phrase whenever Evan gets a little caught up in the way Tommy keeps showing up for him. He gets it, now. It's been instinct, really, to be there when Evan asked, to try his damnedest to make it to the things he's promised to be there for - nothing particularly remarkable about it, in Tommy's mind, but Tommy's starting to see the larger picture. It's grounding, it's comforting, it is actually a little remarkable to be on the receiving end of it. It feels like devotion.
Tommy rolls his forehead, curls a hand up over Evan's shoulder, his neck, fingers catching in his hair, along the curl of his ear. When he blinks and meets Evan's gaze, there's something in his eyes that Tommy isn't sure either one of them is actually ready for, but then, they haven't really stumbled on their way through those things up to this point anyway. Blazed past them, maybe, but always with an understanding of what they mean while they waved at the mile marker blurring past them.
Evan squeezes at Tommy's knee. "I'm not going anywhere," he assures, and Tommy snorts.
"You're literally going to Jersey in, like, five and a half hours."
Evan huffs. "With you. I'm - you're ruining my moment, Tommy," he pouts, and if the both of them dissolve into a fit of giggles, no one has to know but them.
-----
Tommy hasn't been back here in eight years. It's been longer since he's talked to his family - he'd shown up fifteen minutes into his grandmother's funeral, slipped in to a pew at the back during mass and and skipped the wake before he found a bar and made a few bad decisions with a man who'd sat next to him four drinks in and smiled at him like the sun peeking through a billowing stormcap.
Evan presses a tentative hand to the small of Tommy's back and Tommy melts into it, pleased when the hand shifts to curl around his waist. He's apparently already rented a car, and Tommy can't quite hide the heavy sigh of gratitude at the admission - the getaway will be a lot smoother if they don't have to stand outside waiting for a ride.
He's seen Clipboard Buck in action before. The last time, he'd barely managed to get them somewhere private before he was on his knees to express his appreciation of Clipboard Buck. This is - not better, but different in a good way. It makes him feel tethered, reminds him that as crazy as it had been to accept an invitation to a wedding after a spectacular explosion of a first date, he'd been right to follow that spark he'd first felt on the tarmac while Evan Buckley shook his hand for about thirty seconds too long.
"I can help whoever's next," says a voice as Evan shuffles him along the rental line, and Tommy's gaze darts up, his posture sharpening.
Evelyn.
Christ, it's a day for reunions, Tommy guesses. They're next, actually, and Evan tilts his chin with narrowed eyes when Tommy sighs and moves to the counter.
For a second, Tommy's convinced she doesn't recognize him. She pops the gum in her mouth, bored gaze bouncing between them as Evan scrolls through his email for the confirmation number on his booking, and then her eyes go wide.
"Tom? Tom Kinard?"
Evan's eyes shift up. It's a lot more subtle than Tommy'd expected. So is the hand that squeezes at Tommy's hip in question.
Tommy curls his fingers around the hand, squeezes back. He's spent too many years on the other side of the closet door to go crawling back into the dark now.
"Hi Evie."
Tommy hasn't told this story, but he doubts Evan will be particularly surprised by it. He's heard about plenty of Tommy's other beards.
Her gaze shifts. From her spot behind the counter he doubts she's seeing much, but the anchor of Evan's arm around his waist has them sharing space, Tommy's shoulder pressed to Evan's chest, the two of them breathing the same air. Her brow ticks up behind her glasses. She's got a streak of grey along her temple, and the start of crows feet around her eyes.
Evelyn snaps her gum. "You missed the reunion," she notes, and then smiles. "Although I can't blame you if this is what you've got back at home. A large improvement on Jason Ledecky." She leans in. "He's got five kids and a truly tragic bald spot."
Evan's eyes gleam. Tommy realizes he's actually looking forward to telling this story, in the sanctuary of a rented car on the way to his uncles. Evelyn Carinni had been a godsend for a Tommy who'd shot up four inches and slimmed down over the summer after junior year -- she'd scooped him right up that first day of school when it became clear that a suddenly sharp jawline was all it took to garner the attention of the female population of Cliffside Park High, and the first time she'd whipped out her tits and seen the disinterested look on his face she'd made it her mission to make sure he made it through senior year undetected.
"You here about the will?"
Tommy pauses. "What will?"
Her eyeroll is exactly as disparaging as he remembers. "Christ, your family is a piece of work. According to Tina, who heard it from Daryl, Old Man Gio apparently had an updated will your dad tried to hide. There's been a whole lawsuit about getting it recognized."
"What the hell does that have to do with me?"
"Well, I imagine dear old granddad had a nice little end-of-life realization that the only descendant he had who didn't want any of his money was you, so as a last fuck you to all his ungrateful kids he left it all to you."
"There's no way any of that money hasn't been spent already." Not to mention he has no interest in some long drawn out court case where all his extended family has to admit they have no way to pay it back.
Evelyn hums. "A lot of it's been tied up for years. Plus there's the royalties his estate is still getting."
Tommy sighs. "My uncle made it seem like it was more serious than that."
"Is there anything more serious to them than who gets the lions share of daddy's money?" At Tommy's raised brow, she shakes her head. "Anyway, your pop might be looking at jail time, so there's always a possibility they're looking for preemptive bail money."
If he lets them, he'll tie up Evelyn for hours, standing here gossiping like teenagers. "We should have a reservation," Tommy tells her, before things get really off the rails, and they go through the motions of pulling up Evan's information. Evelyn pops her gum again.
"What a shame," she says, brow raised and eyes focused on Evan. "We promised you we had plenty of inventory in basic economy but it looks like those are all off the lot." Tommy watches Evan frown, eyes darting to the prices detailed behind her. Neither one of them is overly concerned about their savings account, at the moment, but Evan isn't fond of surprise price increases. He'd complained for a week the last time avocados had gone up thirty cents. "Looks like I'll just have to upgrade you free of charge, Mr. Buckley."
The clerk to her left shoots her an exasperated look and leaves it at that, but something happens in Evan's expression, the realization rolling over him that he's been included in some subterfuge. "Oh, well, if you have to," he says, but he's leaning his free arm against the counter now, posture open, happy to be included in this little bubble with someone who has loved and cared for Tommy. He knows the feeling -- knows how he'd had to take a deep breath at Chimney's bachelor party, when Eddie had glanced between them and implied that Evan inviting him to the karaoke bar was a date, remembers the way he'd had to dig his fingers into his thigh in the pocket of his pants to keep from being weird about how nice it was to laugh with Maddie Buckley-Han.
Evelyn chuckles, and smacks her gum, and the keys under her fingers clack away for a moment before she spins in her chair and marches off to grab something from the printer, and Evan hip checks Tommy with just enough force that Tommy sways, maybe a little overcome in the same way Tommy always is when Evan's friends, his family make it clear they like having Tommy around. He grins, and Tommy returns it, the edges of his smile bleeding into his cheeks.
Evelyn returns with contract for a sports car. "I waived the deposit fee," she intones. "For the inconvenience, sir."
Evan looks delighted as he signs off and Evelyn splits their copies. The sticky note affixed to Evan's copy has a phone number with a Jersey area code written on it, and she taps it.
"When you find out you're insanely rich and finally cut off the rest of your family completely, you two should take me out for coffee."
Evan isn't so caught up that he doesn't check in with Tommy first. It's not entirely necessary --he likes Evelyn, and Evan can clearly tell that -- but it's nice, all the same.
"How about a steak dinner," Tommy negotiates, and Evelyn's grin goes wide.
-----
As it turns out, Grandpa Gio was a petty little bastard with a penchant for dramatics, and according to a court of law his aunts and uncles (and father) owe him close to two million dollars, between them.
"I don't want it," Tommy confesses, laid out on the hotel bed that night, still too loose-limbed to move as Evan putters around in the bathroom, wetting a washcloth and brushing his teeth.
Evan looms over him a moment later, warm towel running over the ridges of Tommy's stomach, the rise of his pectorals. Christ, he'd shot off like a goddamn missile. Evan bites his lip to hide a grin when the towel catches on the underside of Tommy's chin.
"I'm assuming you're talking about the money," Evan says, folding the towel over itself to give him one last rubdown. "It seemed like you liked the sex."
Tommy shifts, tugging at Evan's wrist until he settles in beside Tommy. With the remains of his energy, he slings a leg over Evan's and rolls himself into the cradle of Evan's embrace. "That was never a question."
Evan maintains the silence for a grand total of thirty-seven seconds. It's longer than Tommy had expected. "So your family." Tommy hums, already tracing the edges of the tattoo on Evan's forearm. "Kind of dicks."
The snort of laughter settles into Evan's still-sweaty temples, and Tommy shifts to press his nose into the damp curls there. He'd been so hesitant to share this part of himself with Evan, but as always, Evan had forged on ahead like there was nothing in the world he'd rather do than provide the landing spot for Tommy to settle down his gear once the storm passed.
"Took me twenty years and a boatload of therapy to train that out of me. I'm still --." Tommy pauses, the usual self-deprecating comment stuck on the tip of his tongue, because for once, it doesn't feel like an effort to be nothing like them. He'd spent so long hiding in the shadow of the asshole his family had taught him how to be, and dragging himself out into the sunlight always felt like a struggle.
But it hadn't felt like an effort, really -- to hold Evan's hand under the judgemental gaze of ten cousins and four aunts and uncles, to stand tall and stick to the barest edges of polite while the room erupted into chaos the moment his father opened his mouth to defend himself, to excuse himself and tuck his arm over Evan's shoulder on the way out the door.
He can still remember the dazed way Evan had responded to that first kiss, while Tommy busied himself tugging the hem of his shirt back down, too nervous to look at him while he asked him out. The way he'd looked, when Tommy'd been brave enough to glance up, eyes a little glazed, mouth still open, and told him he was free.
At the time, Tommy'd been furiously convincing himself not to lean in for another kiss, fully aware he'd make himself late to work if he allowed himself another taste, but the memory had lingered the rest of the shift. In the days after, once he'd had a clearer picture of exactly how wide he'd just blown open Evan's world, he'd thought of it often.
I am free.
Tommy turns his face to meet Evan's gaze, nose dragging across his cheek, lips aching to find a home against Evan's again, but he catches his eyes first, slides a hand up over Evan's arm, shoulder, neck, until he can curl his fingers over his jaw, thumb tucking in to the little dimple as Evan grins at him. "Thank you for coming."
Evan sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, tongue darting out to wet the top one, a mischievous gleam in his eye, but he lets the dumb joke go, gaze shifting into something more serious as he drums his fingers along Tommy's bare hip. "Thanks for letting me," Evan murmurs back, and Tommy knows they need to talk about that sentiment in more detail, but for now he'd rather roll Evan on top of him and slide his tongue past the seam of Evan's lips.
Evan doesn't seem to have any complaints.
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loudclan-clangen · 4 months ago
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(I thought of something funny)
Whenever Owlstar comes back to camp from solo walks, there's just this giant banner at the entrance reading "Welcome Back, Cheater."
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Slitsplash swears they didn't put it up, but appreciates whoever did it.
Meanwhile, Fiercestripe is smirking in the background. (She did it)
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They’re throwing him a party!
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(˃̣̣̥▽˂̣̣̥) These asks all flow together so well I genuinely cannot tell if they are multiple people or just one person who is SO PISSED. Made my night to see these all come in at about 2am. If Owlstar has 100 haters im one of them, if Owlstar has 1 hater it's me, if Owlstar has no haters im dead.
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I do! It was actually incredibly comical from my perspective because Eklutna showed up, did fuck all for 5 moons, got pregnant, then promptly died giving birth, to which i went "aw, that sucks" clicked on her kits, and SAW THAT THIER DAD WAS THE LEADER, SOMETHING THAT I DID NOT KNOW COULD HAPPEN. Eklutna didn't even have any romantic like for him, to my recollection, and Owlstar had like maybe a single tick for her? It was really just lucky rng I guess. Owl and Silt actually didn't break up in the game at all, in my original draft for the story, when i was just writing notes as i played, Siltsplash was a lot more... okay with it? Like they were pissed but their personality was a lot more demure so they didn't act on anything really. The exact quote from the draft was: "I won’t lie to you. I’m angry. Starclan, I’m more than angry, I’m furious. I have half the mind to tell you to leave and never come back.” They paused, seeing Owlstar deflate and taking some slight, bitter satisfaction in it before continuing, “But that wouldn’t be fair to those kits. They didn’t ask to be born, much less to you. They deserve to have a family, or as much of it as they are able to have, and starclan help me we’re in this together." It certainly fit with what I knew about them then, but given my ability to look forward and see future events, I decided that a break up made more sense.
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Don't be sorry! I am not currently in artfight, I'm considering it but I wouldn't be able to be very active due to school, and I don't want to take another break from this blog so soon after my last, so it's not very high up on my list of priorities. I'm kinda casually working on refs for the more popular characters, so there's a chance I'll get those done and join a team, especially if it's something you guys want me to do. If that happens I'll be sure to let you guys know! I am now in art fight! I gave into peer pressure again. (In a good way).
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I don't think even Silt knew. Siltsplash was OUT of it after their conversation with Owlstar, (see: the Eklutna hallucination), and they probably didn't even know where they were headed until they reached the nursery. But after setting eyes on the kits, Siltslpash knew that there was only one option. Yes, they "took the kids in the divorce" but truly they weren't thinking about revenge. They just saw kids who needed something that they could provide.
In terms of writing, though, since I have hundreds of moons of foresight, it was a total bait and switch. I needed to make sure that people had a reason to come back after the break and any comic with kittens in it usually gets a lot of attention, so it was a "marketing" decision to split up the moon the way that I did, in order to make sure that there wasn't too bad of a fall off in interaction for the blog.
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In game Eklutna had an affair with Owlstar, died giving birth, and the "died giving birth" event overwrote the "reveal affair" event so technically, in game Owlstar didn't reveal the affair... ever? (Though I had written in my notes that he told Siltsplash who took them as their own). Story wise, Owlstar hadn't planned to tell anyone until the kits started asking about who their father was. Then he would tell them, and would probably reveal it to the clan when they earned their names and were able to become deputy. But, when Eklutna died all that went out the window. For all his faults, Owlstar is not a bad dad, and he would never leave his kits orphaned, even if it would get him in a lot of trouble to do so. He really does care for them, and he feels terrible about how much he's screwed up their lives so far.
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He did bad, deitycrows, he did bad. He cheated on his mate and then his affair partner died in childbirth so he's not very popular rn, I've got to be honest.
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I don't think it helps at all but, Owlstar did really genuinely like Eklutna! Now, was that because she never opposed him on anything and flattered him with adoring compliments at every opportunity? Possibly. But the "Starclan said" thing was honestly just more of an excuse for him. He woulda had an affair anyway, he just wouldn't have intentionally had kits with her.
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:) Eklutna liked... the power that Owlstar held. She liked that he was chosen by Starclan to lead the clan, she liked that his kits are meant to inherit the position of leadership, and she liked that as the mother of his kits she would have a lot of control over both him and the leader after him. As far as his personality... he's kinda a clown but she could live with that.
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To be frank: The order of inheritance is ABSOLUTELY FUCKED. If Eklutna had lived, it would be easy. She would take over as deputy until one of the kits was old enough to hold the position. But, since she's dead and Owlstar's only heirs are literal infants, as their adoptive parent Siltsplash is still the deputy for now. What happens when the kits reach adulthood is kinda up for debate. As Owlstar's closest descendant, Songkit should be deputy upon earning his warrior name, BUT Siltsplash is very much against that plan, and the kits might not want to go against their most attentive parent. So the very unhelpful answer is: We have to wait and see what the characters decide.
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Thank you so much! I love to hear from first time viewers and see what you guys think of the characters! I'm glad that the dialogue worked so well and Eklutna definitely has Sol vibes! You look at both of them and go "in what world would this plan work the way you wanted it to???"
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descendantsramblings · 2 months ago
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Hi! I literally LOVED your morgie fic! I was just wondering if I could maybe request something like the siren scene from sinbad where reader is sailing with hook and his crew and they all become like entranced by the sirens and reader saves the day and at the end hook is like super proud of her? Sorry if that made like no sense😭
Ahh! I won’t lie I’ve never seen Sinbad so I had to go watch the scene but now I’m gonna have to watch the whole movie. I’m taking some creative liberties obviously to avoid making this toooo much like the movie but I literally LOVE the concept of this. Also, I made the reader Harry’s mom in the future, I hope that’s okay but I wanted to make a fic of them reminiscing when Hook sells the Jolly Roger to Uma anyway so I kinda used this as a “two birds one stone” situation. You made perfect sense, Baby, don’t you worry!
Also!! I saw that crowpickingss also got a very similar request and i didn't read his yet because I was scared of accidently getting inspiration from it, just to be clear.
Call of the Sirens
Captain James Hook x Pirate!Reader
Pronouns Used: she/her/hers
Summary: Hook and his wife retell the tale of when she saved a whole pirate crew from the song of sirens.
Warnings: a touch of swearing, the pirate crew is a little sexist to the reader, sirens are their own warning around these parts, death mentions but mainly in passing, concubine mention, pet names but with my writing that's basically a given, underage alcohol mention
Word Count: 2.2K
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     “I just can’t believe you’re selling the old girl,” she shakes her head as she speaks, looking over the ship she’d loved so much in her youth. The body of mighty oak and rope that held the hand of her wanderlust way of life until it landed her behind the barrier of the Isle, deeming her one of the lost simply by being in the Captain’s crew. (Y/n) loved being a pirate, the salty spray that seemed to constantly coat her skin and hair, the rum and laughter on warm nights, the adrenaline rush when something would begin to go wrong. Everything about being a member of the Jolly Roger’s crew set her heart on fire. Even if it did get her deemed a villain, it gave her more than life outside the barrier ever could. 
    “Darling, she’s run her course with us,” he sighs, strutting across the deck to lovingly cradle his wife’s face, “Time for her to host a new set of teenager’s wanderlust egos has come so we can grow old together.” She looks over his shoulder as her son and his two best friends inspect the ship, the niece of their old dear friend seeming to glow as she studied the old body of the boat. “I’m surely going to miss this boat, she was too good to us.” He hums, shaking his head as he can’t fight the smile that threatens his features, “She got us into a world of trouble.” The comment leads the teenagers closer to them, Harry leading as he gets closer to his parents. “That’s not fair and you know it,” (Y/n) shakes her head as she raises a finger to tap against his nose, “You got us into all that trouble, not the Jolly Roger.” “If I remember right,”  he dips her down, smirking down at the glare of the sun on her face, “You seemed to be the one getting us out of it. A right hero you were, aye?” 
      Harry cringes as his father leans down to place a teasing kiss on his mother’s lips, letting out a forced gag that anyone who knew the Hooks would know was playful. “Sounds like Mom was the Captain then.” It causes Hook’s head to snap up, glaring daggers at his son. “I’m the captain, I will always be the Captain. Your mother was just the best under pressure.” She laughs, standing back up and walking to her son, brushing off his shoulders and fixing his collar as she speaks, “I wasn’t even first mate, your father would’ve never let me in on the action by choice. But someone had to keep an even mind on the old girl, you wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t. The two of us would’ve been well past dead before we even turned eighteen.” She shoots a look back at her husband, taking in the adoring look on his face as he watches the two of them, “Especially that one.” 
     “Had I not been so scared to lose her, she would’ve made a fine first mate,” his hook slinks around her waist, looping into a belt loop as he kisses her cheek. “You threatened it once.” “Aye,” he turns his attention to his son and his friends, truly making a show of the exchange, “I’ve never been so proud of her. Saved me and our whole crew.” Harry nods, looking between them, “So the day that I was born would be second?” Hook waves his good hand, “Third.” It catches him a swat to the chest, leading him to chuckle. “Darling, tell them about the sirens.” 
   “Sirens? You faced sirens?” Uma stares at the woman as if she’s the coolest thing on the seven seas, wide eyes aglow with excitement, “No one faces sirens and lives to tell the tale.” The woman smiles, shaking her head, “We wouldn’t have, if the siren song worked on women, or dogs.” “Dogs?” Harry looks at her with confusion, “We used to have a dog?” “I used to have a dog, Cocktail. He was the best dog a girl could’ve had, bless him. They took him from me when we got put on the Isle.” The kids watch her intently, each taking a seat on the deck like dominos falling in a line “Well, get on with it Momma.” 
                                  🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:・🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:・🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:・🪼
     Caves were never her thing. Open waters, lagoons, abandoned islands, she’d take anything over sailing through caves. “James,” her voice is soft as she approaches him, hand slipping onto the steering Captain’s shoulder, “You know how I feel about caves.” She hated to sound whiny, weak. She gave the crew enough reason to think she didn’t belong there. Certain members of the crew even spoke to her as if she was nothing more than James’ concubine. But caves had an evil air to them that the girl couldn’t stand. Nothing good ever came from one, and she was positive that one of these days one would crash in on them. The unstable caverns tended to do so to overzealous explorers.
      “Yeah, Captain, you know she’s too much of a scaredy cat to go through a cave. She’s gotta whine the whole time, in case it gets her,” Starkey teases, rolling his eyes before turning back to his conversation with Turk. She glares daggers at him; next time Tick tock came by she wouldn’t think twice about tossing his brutish ass overboard. Let the creature have him instead of the captain. “It’s just the fastest route, Darling. We’ll be out of here in no time,” he pays no mind to his crew as he addresses her worries, sending her a cocky grin over his shoulder. She sighs, giving him a nod as she goes back to her previous seat on the deck of the ship, Cocktail resting his head back on her thigh as she did. Her hand finds its way to the top of his head, nails scratching gently against his skin as she tries to think of anything but how uncanny the cave was. With its muggy atmosphere and dark edges. Rigid calcium buildups hanging from the ceiling with sharp rocks jutting out the water. The air around her smelt dank and the dripping of water from the ceiling's build ups coupled with the odd harmony that hung in the air was enough to drive her insane. 
      The harmony? Since when did caves have their own harmonies? What is that sound?
She gets up to head back over to her lover, Cocktail hot on her heels as she does. “Aye, Captain?” He hums, seemingly not paying attention to her. “Do you hear that? There’s something off about this cave.” She waited for another snarky comment to come from the rest of the crew but nothing does. Carefully, as her hand finds its foundation on James’ shoulder, her eyes scan the deck. Every man on the ship seemed to stare off, a strange haze taking over their faces. Cocktail begins to bark at her side, nose pointed at the edge of the ship in alert.  She looks back to James, the same haze over his face, hand losing the grip he had on the steering wheel. Something about this place was entirely wrong; cursed. That’s what it was, there was some sort of black magic that hung in the air around the place. She just couldn't quite put her finger on what it was.
    (Y/n) grabs hold of the steering wheel, holding it steady as she looks around in the water. Faint ripples and flashes of large black and deep violet tails. The melody began to make sense, and she took a moment to wonder how the group had been lucky enough to avoid the creatures until now. Never the wisest in their adventures. Seems it was catching up to them now. 
   “Captain,” she bumps his hip with hers as she speaks, earning no response from his statuesque form. “James,” her fingers snap in his face, not stirring so much as a blink from the boy. “Mr. Smee?” He’s looking over the edge of the ship, blowing a kiss to one of the creatures in the water. “Starkey? Tusk?” Nothing, they were all entranced. Everything had to fall on her now, the realization of it all making her stomach feel as if it was in her throat. Heart beating so loud that it sounds like cannon fire between her ears as she pushes James off of his post. Lip between her teeth as she catches the wheel again, attempting to pull it steady from the way his body weight had swung it right. 
    Water splashes over the sides of the deck from where the sirens beckon to her crew,  the men heading further to the edge as they do. She was losing them, and Hades as her witness (Y/n) was not ready to lose the crew that she’d learned to see as her own twisted form of a family. She leans down as far as she’ll allow herself to, “Cocktail, baby, you're going to have to help me here.” Her fingers grasp around a rope, tossing it to her beloved pet, “Go 'round the deck.” The mastiff takes off, dashing forward with the rope clenched between his teeth, wrapping the crew up in the harsh lead. It was rough, surely something that would catch her hell later, but it was tight enough to stop them. “Good boy, my god, you’re such a good boy.” She calls, focusing her energy back onto steering the ship. She could see the exit of the dreadful dugout now and if she could just avoid the rock to her left they’d be out free. Sirens hated the daylight, thank Merlin she’d remembered to attend class that day. 
     As she focuses on steering she notices the rise of something maroon in the corner of her eye. James making his way to the edge of the ship, the song getting louder as the siren realized she’d soon have control of the ship’s Captain. And (Y/n), unsure whether it be from love or jealousy, could not let that happen. “Cocktail,” her voice is stressed and jagged, catching the dog’s attention as his head tilts. “Go get Hook!” The large ball of fur barrels forward, entrapping the man’s good arm between his jaws. It solicits a sharp gasp from the pirate, Hook attempting to rip his arm from the dog’s mouth with little success as he tries to reach forwards for the dreadful creature calling out to him. Instead, Cocktail throws his head back, sending the boy stumbling into (Y/n). His lips crash against hers but it’s not right. Sloppy and hazy, like a kiss after a few too many drinks. If only true love’s kiss could work on a siren’s song, she’d have help instead of his dead weight pressed against her. It makes her feel uneasy, shoving her boyfriend off of her as she attempts to regain control of the wheel he’d knocked astray yet again. Just a few hundred more feet and one ugly jagged rock until she’d be far enough into the light that the creatures would lose their control on her ship’s crew. She was almost there. 
     What (Y/n) had no way of knowing  was that there would be a waterfall at the end of the cave. The girl making it all the way to the edge just to plummet to the lower seas. Body being thrown to the ground and on top of the captain's, holding her breath as she waits for the worst. The way their bodies all slam back into the deck as the ship’s hull hits the water again seems to stir something in the crew. Hook sitting back up with a firm grip settling on her, hand ghosting over her cheek. “What the hell happened?” She only laughs, grabbing his face and kissing him as if she was never coming up for air. (Y/n) could feel the stress melt from her shoulders as she leaned further into the boy’s lips, near whining against them. He’s the first to pull back, brows furrowed as he stares into her eyes. “My love, what happened.” She shakes her head, “You drove us into a siren’s lair is what happened,” a soft slap falls to his chest, “No more caves.” Each word is said as if it's punctuated, an accusatory finger hitting his chest as she says them.
     “I hate to agree with the girl,” Starkey sighs, attempting to undo the rope around him and the rest of the crew, “But no more caves, Captain.” The statement is followed by the rest of the crew, each member seeming to suddenly share the girl’s hatred of caves. “Alright alright,” he pushes her off his lap to stand as Cocktail makes his way over to his owner. “No more caves. Though,” he looks around his ship, nodding in approval, “It seems you may have a rival for first mate, Smee. My girl did a darling job of taking care of my ship and my crew, look at this.” He looks to her with a genuine smile before leaning down to untie his crew, “A marvelous job, Darling.” Starkey glares at the Captain, a breath of jealousy in his eyes, “Says the man who doesn’t currently have rope burn.” The comment earns him a hook under his chin, Hook’s eyes squinting as they look into his own, “I’d watch your mouth matey. Seems to me that she just saved your life.” 
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impactrueno · 7 days ago
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(thread i posted on twitter copypaste)
i think musical bj and lydia have the most interesting dynamic of the three…they go toe to toe, seem to be in perfect sync without even trying, she managed to turn his marriage threat on its head by tricking HIM back, and then a mini redemption arc? we love to see it but this also means it's hard for me to think of interesting things for them, because they already said everything that needed to be said in the musical. perfect closure too. what else is there even to tell?
thinking about this again since i've been rewatching the musical over and over. the emotional resolution and closure they had was so satisfying after offering what is probably the best (subjectively) and most balanced (objectively) dynamic of the three iterations
over at tumblr i've been talking about how cartoon bj and lydia's friendship isn't as perfect as it seems, especially in the later episodes. it's so sad to see but i'm also invested in their potential downfall and how that would go down…it's interesting to think about
but hey at least they're not movie bj and lydia lol. what….a mess of a dynamic those two have now with the sequel. it could've been handled so much better. they obviously wanted us to root for bj a little in this one, but the cool things he does amount to nothing, pretty much.
feels weird sympathizing with THIS beetleguy of all three but wow not even a reluctant "thanks i guess" or anything? idk feels like something was missing there. just one of the many things that feel like they're setting up for a third installment
thinking so hard about this because when i write them i gotta think about their motivations, feelings and why they feel that way, etc and bj saving astrid's life and exposing rory as a fraud and abuser (in an incredibly satisfying way) definitely tipped the scales in his favor.
so i'm still figuring out how lydia would feel about all that. i have this scene stuck in my head of her and astrid talking about bj. and astrid, who's really only seen him do good things, goes "…really mom?" and now i'm going "welp she's kinda got a point, lydia" NOW WHAT.
if i were in her shoes, me personally, that would've won me over or at the VERY least i would've forgiven him since he made up for the bad stuff. and i keep seeing people who feel the same way… then again, the ending does show he's still messing with her so idk. mixed feelings
trying my hardest to work with what canon gave us if you couldn't tell lol. sloppy as it was. i will try to make sense of it so i can do my stupid little comics
i guess at least she let him down easy lmao. as sarcastic her "look i'm sorry things didn't work out between us but the 600 year gap is a little much for me" line was. but he's not gonna give up that easily, is he? of course not. he's beetlejuice. he's gonna be annoying forever.
none of this would be such an issue if they had given them more screentime together to let their dynamic cook a bit and actually see how they get along 😑 hmph
anyway thanks for coming to my ted talk im done now
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deacons-wig · 7 months ago
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I'd prefer if we never got to see the origin of Vault Boy and Vault Tec's branding in the same way I'd rather not get a canon answer of who started the War or how. That's the point of War Never Changes.
Vault Boy is a sinister figure in his cheerful embrace of Armageddon. Giving the Vault Tec brand a face and a name and a backstory feels so unimportant to what is actually interesting about Fallout. What's important to me is the big picture pre war, and the details of what comes after.
What is interesting to me is exploring how propaganda is designed to convince people how close they are to annihilation--or homelessness, unemployment, obscurity, or being The Other and therefore destined to suffer--in hell, in oppressions, being ostracized. Honestly insert any sort of marginalization or suffering here. Crony capitalism uses propaganda to market products designed to manipulate people into buying distance between themselves and that annihilation. Putting themselves "behind the thumb" of Vault Boy, so to speak. Buying a lifestyle. Vault Boy does it with a wink and a smile, inviting those who can afford it to buy their way to safety while using capital and fear to perpetuate the cycle. I don't need the specifics to understand this.
Some ghoulnaysis below the cut:
I'll admit, my initial reaction to pre-war Ghoulgins being the inspiration for Vault Boy was funny! Mr. Cooper Howard, washed up actor experiencing an existential crisis being shoehorned into corporate propaganda that then haunts him for the next 200+ years? Selling manifest destiny, racism, the Rugged Individual, the revisionist history that cowboys were a) white and b) more than a brief footnote in the history of the colonization of North America's west. The commodification of entertainers/creatives/public figures. Selling identities to be packaged into a product that will outlive them? Only to have that person live alongside that role they regret (?) playing... kinda tasty, if we have to give Vault Boy a backstory, though I didn't get a clear sense of his actual feelings about being used as a propaganda guy which I think is a failure of the show to commit to the narrative they set up, which happens with a lot of the show's (lack of) engagement with Fallout's larger themes anyway.
But The Ghoul (stupid name!!! weird and boring choice!!!) is just such an uncompelling and repellent character to me. I love a good bad guy or even anti-hero, but honestly he lacks any interiority. He's an evil karma character (eats people, waterboards and mutilates people, sells people to organ harvesters...like? that literally makes you evil in the games...) but the narrative pushes him as an antihero or someone with gray morality because he what..."likes" dogs? And isn't as decayed or unsettling looking as other ghouls (implying handsome=good or interesting). People aren't afraid of him because he is a ghoul, they're afraid of him because he's evil and will hurt them! Sometimes for no reason! I see the callback to the director telling him to shoot his co-star and Cooper saying he's "the good guy," but is that why he becomes so fucking evil post war? Really?
I don't know why he does what he does other than...the world sucked before and sucks now so he might as well represent the basest of human behavior? That seems to be the thesis of the show--unless kindness and community is engendered (by the vaults, by Management, by a civic government, by corporations) people will descend into chaos.
So why have this poorly executed anti-hero be the origin of Vault Boy? What are the narrative choices being made here? Is it just Rule of Cool?
Personally I would like a pathetic, rotting wet cat of a ghoul, some sort of carved out husk of a washed up movie star either trying to relive his glory days, or avoid them--having given up hope of finding his family after 200 years--being dragged into Lucy's orbit and being constantly reminded of his Vault Boy fame, that she is a walking Vault Girl with her Okey Dokey's and Golden Rule. He'd be a joke, a footnote of the old world. He'd be mean and snarky, even unpredictable and uncooperative--have a public persona of friendly curiosity and a private, cynical one.
Pathetic Ghoulgins would remind audiences of the cost of capitalism and imperialism without resorting to the thesis that war never changes means that people are inherently cruel and will resort to violence, rather than existent corporate and political power structures intentionally create the conditions in which people accept perpetual cycles of exploitation and harm for the sake of their own safety and comfort, despite knowing the cost of maintaining the status quo, and not seeing or believing that distance between the status quo and total annihilation is measured by the smiling thumbs up of a cartoon mascot.
I'm sure there are other ways The Ghoul could have been a successful character as well but.... That's satire. That's interesting. That's Fallout.
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kettle-flakes · 10 months ago
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k so slay the princess is rotting my brain but currently one big thought is chilling in my brain, and like- hear me out (sorry if my wording doesn't convey my thoughts well skskfjdjg)
but I don't think the damsel is entirely as shallow as some may see her as. HEAR ME OUT- compared to the other princesses, yes, she definitely more shallow. and she is also (at least when looking at deconstructed) poking fun at those trying to have an easy and work free romance route where the princess does whatever you like and loves you so, so much. i'm not saying she's supremely deep and that no one understands her but me, but I also don't think she exists solely to mock players with absolutely nothing to say about the nature of human permanence either.
does that make sense? more thoughts below- they're a bit disjointed though so warning ^^;
I personally think the damsel can also represent a very real form love, so to speak.
gimme a min to explain. I think what initially led me to this is a line from the narrator equating the smitten and the damsel to acting like teenagers in love. and that line sorta shifted my perspective a bit on her a little? seeing that kinda made me go "ohhhhhhh makes sense" like it really did remind me of two kids who don't entirely get what dating entails but still want to be together, and given the endgame sequence the damsel's section just kinda cemented this mindset for me.
for clarification the damsel has two(?) bits of dialog depending on whether she's deconstructed or not. If she isn't she says something along the lines of (iirc) "you had a desire and you set that desire free/not caring about what it took or costed you in the process" annnd?? like that's kinda wholesome to me?
like the damsel's love with the player isn't nearly as in depth, complicated, or complete as say the thorn, but it's a passionate love. it's also a naive love. the sort of love you'd find with, well, teenagers having a crush. of course when people get older they see those old crushes as frivolous and flat, but to the people experiencing them in the moment, it's real! it's serious! they were still willing to risk a lot just to be together. and at least at the start, you're willing to be killed by the princess if it means she's safe after having a battle of control against the narrator. it just reads as very human to me. they truly felt that their love could conquer anything.
I feel the thorn is a more 'adult' version of the damsel. it's that passionate love taking on a more mature form. it has more hardships to go through and way more pitfalls and mistakes that one can make compared to the more childish love like the damsel's. there's less theatrics and fanfare, and to me it feels more somber and quiet. it's a contrast between the high stakes emotion filled damsel, and the more intimate, tense, and self-aware thorn. ultimately in the end for both of them, they come to a realization that love is a powerful tool almost in a way that mirror each other.
some of the same occurrences leading up to the route are also shared between the two. like having the princess stab you in the prior route. I also think it's worth noting that in the thorn, the thistles can be seen as/can be referred to a prison of her own making. something she can leave if she was willing to make the effort to do so. it's similar to the damsel's shackles being easily slipped off her wrist. she could free herself.
also by extension, say what you will about the smitten but he loves the princess no matter what form she takes. even when she kills him he still adores her. he is content with being cooked alive by the princess if that's what she wants. i think he's a lot like the damsel in that sense. whatever she wants, she will have. if the damsel is molded to love the player, the smitten is absolutely molded to love the princess in the same way.
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