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ageingfangirl2 · 1 year

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Why Do You Trust Me? Buggy (OPLA)

y/n has been on Buggy's crew for over a year and he starts to question their loyalty. Buggy x Reader

Y/N

Since Captain Buggy had come back the tension on the ship and amongst the crew was at an all-time high. You'd been a part of the crew for over a year and hadn't actually been in the tent when Luffy and his new crew managed to best Buggy, because Buggy didn't have an act for you so you had to stay behind on the ship.

Buggy demanded loyalty from his crew. He was a dangerous man and feared pirate, so you were surprised at how easily he charmed you into joining his crew. he played on fears and insecurities, and gave you a chance to be better and to find a new family even if he called all of you freaks and outcasts. You'd been told by other crew members you would be tested by Buggy, but you'd yet to be tested and you weren't sure if that was a good thing or not.

You followed your clown captain blindly, you owed him your life since because of him you'd become a better person and a much stronger fighter.

You were on your way to another island to destroy and make them watch the best show on all the seas, and just when you thought you could rest for the night you made eye contact with Buggy across the deck who had an unreadable expression on his painted face. With a gloved hand, he beckons you to come with him before disappearing into the shadows.

You followed him beneath deck towards his private quarters where you laid eyes on his throne and to your surprise the wheel he attached people to and threw knives at them. He had more than enough practice so why was it in his quarters?

You bite your lip, 'is everything okay captain?'

He simply stares at you emotionless, and next thing you know a detached gloved hand is around your throat and pinning you to the wheel while you gasped for breath wide-eyed and in shock. With his other hand, he makes quick work of restraining your wrists and ankles.

'You're far too trusting y/n, do you have any idea how easily I could kill you?' his voice malicious and laugh terrifying.

He produces some knives almost out of thin air and stalks towards you, until you're face to face, his smirk reaching his eyes knowing at this moment you truly feared him, 'ANSWER ME Y/N!' he snaps.

You manage to keep eye contact and gulp nervously, 'of course, you tell me as much, quite often. I'm well aware of how dangerous you are.'

Buggy's eyes widen at your reply and he hums to himself for a second before bringing one of the knives up to the corner of your eye and dragging the blade down your cheek, applying enough pressure to cut your skin but not too deep, making you hiss in pain, '...then why stay? Why show such vulnerability, knowing what you know?'

After cutting your skin he brings the knife between the two of you so that you could see your blood on his weapon. You take a couple of deep breaths and let the stinging pain subside. Before joining the crew you were abused daily, an orphan of the street fighting to survive another day. As different and difficult as times this new life was you wouldn't go back to your old life.

You sigh, 'because no one has ever treated me with as much tenderness and respect as you do, and because I know you'll never intentionally harm me. Whether you like it or not, I trust you, captain, I trust you Buggy.'

Buggy drops his menacing facade and his face softens as he takes in your honest answer to his question. He might play on others' fears and insecurities but deep down he had his own and needed at times to show his dominance. But of course, neither you nor the rest of the crew would tell him this because you didn't know how he'd react.

He puts the knives down and helps you off the wheel, 'Looks like you passed my little test y/n. Here take this.'

You take the handkerchief he offers and press it to your bleeding face while he keeps his back turned to you, 'are you really okay captain? You've had it rougher than us these past weeks.'

Buggy spins back around to face you wearing a huge grin before he squeezes your unmarked cheek like you would a baby and coos, 'I'm touched you care about me y/n, this is why you're one of my favourites. Now let's celebrate my return.'

The rest of the night and into the early hours of the morning is a blur. Pirates would take any excuse to drink, and Buggy was keen to keep celebrating his return. You never knew what the next day would bring, but you were thrilled to pass the loyalty test because Buggy came up to you drunk and told you he'd found an act for you in his show. Now you felt like a true part of the crew.

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lostfirefly · 4 months

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Baby, baby when you're looking deep in my eyes, I know you're seeing past my make-up

I know everyone has a story like this, but I decided to write my version too. I also have the same theme planned for my OC, but it will be a completely different tone. English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :)

Buggy and F/GN Reader - Masterlist is here.

Description: Buggy asks you to help him apply makeup.

Words: 2524

Taglist: @gingernut1314, @operationroots

The title is taken from “All That I Got (The Make Up Song)” by Fergie.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

“Captain Buggy, the love of my life, I was on deck now and one of your freaks handed over some kind of box.” You entered your shared cabin and froze at the doorway.

“Nine, ten. And a couple more for luck.” Buggy was wearing only pajama pants and doing push-ups with his fists. “Eleven. Twelve. Four times twelve, I'm still pretty good.”

“Geeez! You should've warned me about this. I walk into the cabin, and there’s such a sexy picture. You’re half naked and doing push-ups.” You smiled and raised your eyebrows.

“Like what you see, huh?” He chuckled.

“I don’t just like it, I’m delighted! My love, the box.” You shook the package slightly.

“Wait. I'll do three more push-ups. One. Two. Three.” Buggy stood up from the floor. “The seduction program is completed, right, pumpkin?” He kissed you on the forehead. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I love you, bastard! How did it happen that you took me to your ship? I remember my mother was screaming, “Y/N, he's a clown, stop, what are you doing”, while you grabbed the essentials from my closet and then carried me up the stairs on your shoulder.” You kissed Buggy on his cheek.

“See? I liked you.” Buggy wrapped one arm around your waist, and lightly poked your nose with his other arm’s finger. “I came.” Poked again. “And got you.” Poked again. “It's simple.”

“Yes, just like a real pirate!” You giggled.

“Hey, I’m a real pirate! We are on my ship, Y/N. I have my own flag and the crew.”

“Oh, I'm sorry, my love!” You rolled your eyes theatrically. “How could I forget? The scariest crew in the whole world! And you are the most formidable of all the pirates! And you will definitely become the king of the pirates, and you will be feared in all parts of the world. But until that happens, look at the package. The new boy with grey hair who joined your crew a few days ago gave it to me. Said it was sent by some bearded guy.”

“Oh, this is my new set of cosmetics.” Buggy grabbed the box from your hands. “Listen, no one has seen or knows that I’m without... well... without makeup.”

“No, I made sure no one saw.” You pecked him on his nose. “You know, this is even great. Can you imagine that I’m the only person in the world who sees you without makeup in the morning? I’m the happiest girl. Open up!” You clapped your hands. “I want to see what's there!”

Buggy plopped down on the bed and opened the box. You sat on his lap, began stroking his back and kissed his temple.

“What's here? Shadows, powder, eyeliners. Lord, why do you need 50 lipsticks?” Your eyes rounded.

“We won’t be able to moor in the near future. I need supplies.” Buggy was taking cosmetics out of a box.

“But not fifty lipsticks, Buggy!”

“I need this, because one cute pumpkin uses my cosmetics too.” He took one of the tubes out of the box. “Look! New mascara! Waterproof! So if I fall into the water, I'll at least partially remain handsome!”

“I won’t let you fall into the water! I still need you in this life.” You took the mascara and twirled in your hands.

“Okay, I need to go out on deck and go check on the fucking crew. But first I need to do my makeup.” Buggy looked at you and winked. “Can you help me, pumpkin?”

“With great pleasure, my love!” You kissed him on his lips. “I’m the luckiest girl. And you made me this, remember that.”

Buggy stood up from the bed, holding you in his arms, and carried you to the dressing table. It was a huge wooden table with a large mirror and several bright lamps located around the perimeter of the table.

“I love doing this, to be honest!” You said happily. “Watching my Buggy turn into Buggy the Clown, but even under a layer of makeup I see the real you!”

You stood up from his lap, took his makeup bag, placed it on the table and rubbed your hands. “Let's start! First the white powder.” You took a round black box and a large fluffy sponge. “Close your eyes!”

Buggy widened his eyes. “How should I look at you? No, pumpkin! It doesn’t work like that!”

“Holy moly!” You rolled your eyes and threw up your hands. “It's starting again! Close your eyes, I'll try to make it faster.”

“Okay! But I hope that when I open them, you'll be naked.” Buggy smiled widely.

You dipped the sponge into the powder and began to gently apply it to his face. “Ouch, Buggy! Stop pinching my butt!”

“Sorry, Y/N, I couldn't resist. You're seducing me with your clothes.” He moved his hands to your tailbone.

“I can't seduce you! I'm wearing jeans overalls, Buggy! And I look like a garden gnome.” You said, continued applying the powder.

“Have you seen yourself? This is one hell of a jumpsuit. Your ass looks fucking amazing in it!” Buggy clicked his tongue.

“Asshole! Don't distract me!” You bit your tongue and tried to stay focused, running the sponge over his face. “And there you go... Done! Now for the eyeliner.”

You picked up the black tube, unscrewed the cap, and carefully looked at the brush. You examined Buggy’s face from all sides, choosing the best angle of the light. “Oh, there! Don't open your eyes!”

“Have you undressed yet, baby?”

“God, you're unbearable sometimes. Don't move!” You started to run the brush along his lash line when your hand twitched. “Stop pinching my butt! Otherwise, I'll poke you in the eye one day.”

“Oh, if you will be naked at the same time, I’m not against such sacrifices.” Buggy smirked and opened his eyes.

“Close your eyes! You saw me naked at night, calm down!” You squinted and drew a thin black line with eyeliner.

“It was a long time ago, Y/N. I’ve already forgotten everything.” Buggy exhaled sadly and stretched his back a little.

“That was two hours ago, Buggy! Sit still!” You ran the eyeliner over his other eye and carefully examined the result of the work. “It turns out beautifully! Why is that all? Because I have a handsome canvas.” You pecked him on the lips, and he visibly blushed. “My Captain got embarrassed.” You giggled. “What's next? Bones or eye shadow? Let's draw bones.”

You picked up a pencil, white paint and a sponge, and sat on his lap. “It will be more convenient.” You wrinkled your forehead and nose slightly.

“This is too much, Y/N! Why are you doing this?” Buggy opened his eyes and placed his hands on your waist.

“I do nothing.” You bit your bottom lip and began to trace the outline of the bones. "I'm just drawing."

"You're sitting on me, biting your lips. It's kind of a turn on."

“What's wrong with you today? You can't calm down.” You gently ran the brush down to his eyebrows. “Eyes, Buggy.”

“I'm a dirty pirate, pumpkin!” Buggy closed his eyes and began to lower his hands to your hips. “I never calm down.”

“Yes, I noticed. Sit still, please!” You slowly began to move the brush from his eyebrows to below. “You have wrinkles. I like it.” You dipped the brush into the jar and felt Buggy’s hands begin to stroke your thighs. “If you don’t stop doing this now, I will tear off your hands and put them in the chest. Sit still, otherwise everything will be crooked. I can’t allow the captain to come on deck with crooked makeup. The ocean is calm and we can’t blame the storm.” You slapped his hands and continued drawing. “Hah, a little more and I will be able to do all this with my eyes closed.”

You grabbed his chin with one hand and turned his head in different directions. “Looks good. Look.”

Buggy opened his eyes and made a displeased face.

“What's happened?” You asked, looking from his face to the mirror.

“Not what I wanted. The bones should be bigger, Y/N. What is this? It looks more like the bones of a fucking dead quail than part of a Jolly Roger.” Buggy looked at his reflection in the mirror.

“Oh, my God. How much more?” You rolled your eyes. “Should I draw something all over your face? I did bones as usual.”

“No, not as usual. It’s different.” Buggy made a sad face.

“Okay. Now I'll redo it a little.” You growled, erased the ends of the bones, and began drawing again. “Buggy! Stop it!”

“I do nothing!” He shrugged, answering calmly.

“You're stroking my neck. Don't distract me, asshole.” You drew an outline for a larger drawing.

“It’s not me. It’s you sitting beautifully on me.”

“You are unbearable.” You ran the brush a little more and squinted. “Look now, capricious boy. Are you happy now?”

Buggy looked in the mirror for a long time, tilting his head now to the right, now to the left. “Now it is better.”

“Hurray for me! Now I’ll cover them up for you and start working on the shadows.” You dipped the sponge into the white paint and began to paint over the bones, humming softly. “It’s getting better and better. If you hadn't been fidgeting and pawing me, the whole process wouldn't have taken so long. Little mischievous boy.” You kissed his nose.

“I'm not a little boy. Little boys don't do what we did this morning.” Buggy giggled idiotically and placed his hands on your waist. “That was so-o-o good! I like hearing your voice screaming my name loudly.”

“Shit, I hope no one on the crew heard me.” You carefully ran the sponge over the white layer of paint again.

“Fuck them! Let them hear. I’m the captain, and even if anyone says anything bad about you, I’ll throw him overboard.” Buggy wrapped his arms around your waist and looked at your concentrated face.

“Thank you, my formidable protector.” You pecked him on the lips. “I love you!” You looked at his forehead again. “Okay, I'm done with the bones. Now for the shadows. ” You took a box of blue shadows and a brush. “Oh, I remember how at the beginning of our relationship, you were dying of jealousy when I helped your entire crew with makeup.”

“I wasn't dying of jealousy. I just didn't like it.” Buggy slowly rubbed your back.

“Close your eyes. I'll draw you your blue things.” You looked down at him and saw him shaking his head negatively. “You don't want to close your pretty eyes? But you have to, Buggy. I promise, when you open them, I’ll be here.”

Buggy exhaled sadly, closed his eyes and raised his head a little.

“Up, down. Wider here, narrower here. Blue here and here” You lowered the brush into the shadows and continued applying them to his face. “The perfect combination with the color of your eyes and hair. What are your plans for the evening? If you won't be too tired, maybe we will sit on the deck with wine and will look at the stars? I love it when we spend our evenings like this.”

“Sounds great.” He slightly nodded. “Moreover, I bought you some bottles of wine when we landed on the island.”

“Thank you, my love!” You pecked his lips again. “Done! So. Look. Do you like it?”

Buggy squinted and looked at himself in the mirror for a long time. “Not bad.” He exhaled.

“You don't like it, right?” You stroked his hair.

“Well, Y/N.. You know, it all needs to be brighter.”

“But it's still so bright, Buggy.” You looked in the mirror and then at his face.

“Not bright enough, pumpkin.” Buggy shrugged.

You glanced at his upset face. “Okay. I'll fix it now.” You stood up from his lap and began rummaging through his makeup bag. “Where is the glitter? I can't find it.”

“I moved it to the second drawer from the bottom yesterday.” He pointed to the drawer.

“Ok.” You leaned over, heard a giggle from behind you, and glanced at him. “Did you do this on purpose, clown? Did you purposely move the jars down so I could bend over, and you could look at my ass?”

“Yeah.” He nodded contentedly, without a trace of regret on his face.

“Idiot!” You laughed and shook your head.

“What? You have a nice ass, Y/N and I like looking at it.”

You found the glitter and sat back on his lap. “You're lucky we're far out to sea and I can't escape from you.”

“So that’s why I took you far out to sea so that you couldn’t escape from me.” Buggy hugged you and kissed you on the lips. “It was a strategic move, baby.”

You rolled your eyes and dipped your brush into the glitter. “Now I will make my bright and handsome clown even brighter and more handsome. One. Two. Three. Look. What do you think?”

“Perfect, Y/N.” He snapped his fingers.

“And now, mascara.” You took the mascara in your hands, unscrewed the cap and looked carefully at the brush. You carefully placed your fingers on his cheekbones, pursed your lips and swiped mascara over his eyelashes several times. “Now your beautiful eyes look more expressive. Okay, we only have lips left.” You took his makeup bag and took out lipstick from there. You unscrewed the cap and unscrewed the lipstick spout. “Put your sweet lips closer to me.”

“I heard something similar this morning from myself.” Buggy chuckled again.

“Shut up, idiot.” You swiped the lipstick over his lips a few time. You set it aside and running your fingers across his lips, beginning to smear it around his mouth. “Damn, I think I overdid with lipstick today. See?” You showed him your red hand, which was smeared with a thick layer.

“Oh, I know a way to deal with this!” Buggy hugged you tighter and pressed his lips to yours. You just squeaked something through the kiss, lightly patted him on the shoulder, but realizing that he wouldn’t stop, you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Yes, that's much better.” You answered quietly, wiping your lips.

Buggy looked at you, exhaled heavily and buried the top of his head into your chest.

“What's wrong, my love?” You stroked his head.

“Nothing, Y/N. I’m gathering strength for the day. I don’t want to go anywhere, but...” He muttered under his breath.

“Captain’s affairs won’t take care of themselves.” You said quietly.

Buggy nodded silently. You got up from his lap, watched him get dressed, periodically glancing at you.

You helped him with the bandana and kissed him before leaving. “If you feel sad in the middle of the day, just find me. I’ll hug you, and you’ll feel better, agreed?”

Buggy nodded and kissed the top of your head.

“Have a nice day, my Captain Buggy. I love you!” You stroked his shoulders.

“I love you too, Y/N.”

#one piece #buggy the clown #buggy live action #one piece live action #buggy one piece #opla buggy the clown #buggy fanfiction #buggy fic #opla buggy the clown x reader #buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy the clown x you #buggy x female reader #buggy the clown x you #opla buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy x reader

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pointycorgiears · 4 months

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How Garp came to be in Cross Guild's hands.

I have a little au going where Garp ends up on Karai Bari. These scenes from one of my fics explains how it happened...

****

"Is that who I think it is, Hawkeye?" Crocodile muttered, cigar grinding between his teeth.

"Yes."

Buggy shuddered into multiple parts beside Crocodile. "You're kidding! That's not really-"

"Aokiji," Mihawk finished.

"WHAT!? He's with the Blackbeard Pirates now! What is he doing here!?"

Mihawk ignored Buggy's flailing. "We will find out soon enough, it seems."

The tall, slender figure of Kuzan, the ship's captain and the once admiral of the Navy, slid along a path of ice over the breakers. He paused just short of the landing where Mihawk stood, keeping a safe distance between them without further encroaching on the island. His dark cloak stood out among the pure white of the ice sprawling from his hand and legs. "Hawkeyes Mihawk," Kuzan said, removing the dark sunglasses from his eyes. "It's been a while."

"What do you want, Aokiji?"

"I hear you're in the bounty business now." Kuzan glanced over his shoulder and waved one frigid hand, bringing forth a large block of ice. It slid along the path until it stopped right behind him. "I got something to turn in to you."

Mihawk narrowed his eyes, focusing on the massive ice block behind the slender man. His gaze pierced through it, and he looked back at Kuzan with suspicion. "Why is he still alive?"

"He might not be, if you don't thaw him out correctly. But I'll leave that up to you. Figure I'd give you the option."

"You sat off our shores for two days just to turn in a bounty?"

Kuzan shrugged. "I had to make sure it was safe to approach. I'm in Emperor Buggy's territory after all."

Mihawk glared daggers at the sneer from Kuzan as the ex-admiral looked at the clown. His voice became a little harder as he addressed Kuzan again. "If that is all you're here to do, then present your quarry and get on with it. Do not waste our time."

Kuzan smirked. "Fine. But I'll only make the deal with you. You were Garp's favorite after all."

He waved his hand and the block containing the frozen Garp slid over to Mihawk's feet on a bridge of ice. It was dripping at its edges under the hot Karai Bari sun.

"Tell you what, I'll even make this easy for you," Kuzan said. "That guy's got three crowns on his head, worth three billion berry. I'll only take one and a half billion, as long as you will mind that old man's wounds."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because I've heard you might just owe him a debt."

"My business with him is done," Mihawk growled.

"Yeah, but you're still an honorable warrior at heart," Kuzan commented. "And you're smart. You're not going to just throw away the only ally you might have in the World Government."

Mihawk studied the ex-admiral carefully. He knew Kuzan had history with Garp, and he knew the man also held reservations about the tactics used by the forces he once served. Mihawk could remember all the looks of disdain cast his way during the warlord meetings. "You're walking a dangerous line. You claim to be on Blackbeard's crew, yet you set out to bring in one of the biggest bounties all of your own accord. Now you claim you only want half Garp's worth in return for his survival? What is this game you are playing, Aokiji? Who's side are you really on?"

Kuzan returned Mihawk's cold gaze tenfold. "If I had to pick...my own. So, do we have a deal?"

****

(Later, in one of the infirmary tents...)

Mihawk turned to Garp, whose eyes were barely creaking open. There was a pained grimace on the old man's face. Mihawk removed the cloth on his head, dipping it in the warm water again before returning it. "I wasn't expecting you to awake so soon. Your strength is returning rather quickly. A good sign that your body is healing."

"Tell that to the hole in my chest," Garp grumbled.

Mihawk took the bowl and sat next to Garp on the bedside. He carefully pulled back the bandages around the wound and began applying the salve underneath.

Garp watched him with dreary eyes. "What are you doing?"

"This will help it heal without too much scarring and will keep infection out."

"You know what I mean..."

Mihawk raised his eyes to meet him for only a split second. "I'm repaying the favor."

"Ya don't owe me anything...I thought we were square..."

"When I was injured all those years ago, you didn't have to let me stay on your ship for so long, nor did you have to take me home."

Garp shook with what Mihawk believed was a laugh. "Excuses...you're just being a nice guy..."

"I know you delayed the Navy ships that came to collect me after the warlords were dissolved."

Garp looked at him. A sly grin crossed his battered face. "Nothing wrong with a headstart...not my fault they couldn't keep up with ya."

"Still, I did appreciate that. I didn't have to leave behind as much as I feared I would."

"Where are we, anyway?"

Mihawk set the bowl aside and recovered the wound. "You're on Karai Bari. Aokiji brought you here to turn you in for your bounty."

"Bastard couldn't just kill me like he should have. Gotta insult me too by cashing out...I hope you stiffed him some."

"He only asked for half."

"WHAT!? THAT-GARGH! Kuughhh…!"

Garp coughed as he sat up in surprise. Mihawk had to gently push him back down so he would not hurt himself further.

"That cheap bastard," Garp wheezed, "...can't even broker a deal correctly!"

"It was to your benefit, if that's of any comfort," Mihawk sighed. "He only wanted half in return for your safety and care. I agreed."

"Well, normally I'd say you came out on top, but you're stuck with me now. I guess ya got the short end of the stick after all."

****

Annnnnd then Garp became the Cross Guild maid. :)

If you'd like to read the whole thing, you can find it here: Hawk In An Open Cage

I love the interaction between Garp and Mihawk in the live action show, so that was the inspiration for this story.

#Aokiji has been my favorite admiral and I'm still very intrigued by his character #I want to know what his endgame is #dracule mihawk #monkey d. garp #hawkeyes mihawk #aokiji #aokiji kuzan #one piece #one piece headcanons #my fic #cross guild

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languajix · 1 month

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Fashion Show: ICE Does Makeup

@tmnt-fandom-family-reunion here is an RP between @leilanising and @languajix (both cabin 14) that has been fic-ified a little for posting for the fashion show event!

Summary: Hold Every Memory Mike hasn't ever had his makeup done before. Will ICE be willing to help him try it out?

Morning slowly fell over Cabin 14, and one by one everyone started blinking awake and puttering around in their normal morning activities.

Uncle Mike, who was putting on a show of being Uncle Raph this week due to shenanigans, was already feeling a little more stylish wearing his older style of mask as he pretended to be his grumpy brother! Sometimes he found himself looking in the mirror and making faces, feeling like he was in a time capsule looking back at a younger version of himself. Or his brother, kind of. Back before his brother stopped smiling.

However stylish he felt, he'd never be as stylish as his cabinmates, though, and he was okay with that! He hadn't had much time, opportunity, or passion in his life to explore his sense of fashion until recently. He'd just started experimenting with tie dye, with beads in his mask, and with the purple nail polish that he wore in honor of his brother Donnie, but... he'd not gone much past that, yet.

Watching ICE do his eyeliner, seated in front of the mirror at the vanity next to his bunk, had him curious. Would he like eyeliner? Would it even look good on him? Would any makeup look good on him, or would he just look silly?

He waited until ICE seemed done, and then he sidled over, trying to seem casual about it. "Hey, ICE? I know my face is handsome - although it will never be quite as handsome as my brother Mike's, of course, god among turtles that he is - buuuut... do you think I'd look good in eyeliner?"

Looking up from the mirror, ICE glanced at the older turtle. He seemed rather surprised - he probably expected someone else to pop that question first, not Mike, but he rolled with it pretty quick. "Heh, sure, why not. Here, sit right there, I'll go get the bigger makeup kit." He set down his tools and slid to his feet, going to dig around in his backpack. "You like black, right?"

Mike Raph relaxed a little, bouncing on the balls of his feet, grinning. "Heck yeah! I like all the colors. Black included." Then he coughed. "I mean, black as my soul. Because I'm a Raph, as you know." Mike tended more towards bright colors - eye searing, attention-getting, fun, playful, happy - but black could be striking. Could be a look. And if ICE was doing it, he knew he'd look cool. He was experimenting, okay? Trying something new!

ICE barked out a triumphant laugh as he pulled out a massive makeup bag from his backpack. It was rather odd that he hadn't found it sooner, considering the size of his backpack on the outside. How big actually was it on the inside? "Do not worry, Uncle Raph. I'm sure black will look just fine on you!"

Cool. Cool cool cool. Uncle Mike Raph flopped down onto the bunk, pulling down his mask. It was slung around his neck, now, so he was still technically in disguise. Still repping the Raph!

Pulling out some as-yet-unnamed things from the makeup bag, ICE studied his Uncle Raph for a minute before leaning in. "Now hold still, this might take a bit..."

Mike Raph leaned forward to give ICE access to his face for whatever it was that ICE was planning, excited and curious. "Alright, do your worst! ...or your best. Much rather you do your best, actually, if I've got a choice." If ICE decided to put him in clown makeup or something, he'd forgive him and he'd rock it anyways, but he didn't think ICE would. The result was gonna be cool. He just hoped he could stay still long enough; sitting still was not his strongest skill...

Laughing softly, ICE started lightly applying what he later explained was foundation around Mike Raph's face. "You make it sound like I'm gonna make you look goofy or something!" he commented, but his tone was not unkind. Mike learned that the foundation was supposed to give the eyeliner a good base to start from, and after the foundation, ICE began lining the eyes with black, explaining what he was doing as he went. "With how your eyes are, I'm lining the upper eyelid all the way, while with the lower, I'm only going from the center of your pupil, to the corner of your eye. From there, I will continue to build out in the signature swoop."

Uncle... Raph shivered at the light touch at the edge of his eyelids. He wasn't sure what he expected, but the way the eyeliner felt cool was a little weird. Not bad! He just wasn't used to another person this close to his eyes.

He couldn't see what ICE was doing really well, so every touch was a little unexpected, and it was hard to keep focused on staying still and not blinking. He was trying! So hard!

He was gonna look awesome.

Working with practiced ease, ICE applied both eyeliner and eyeshadow faster than Totally Uncle Raph was expecting. After finishing the last touches around his eyebrow joints, he straightened up. "Well, that's pretty much it! Took a bit longer than I expected, but it was definitely worth the effort. Go ahead and look in the mirror if you like, I'm going finish my own makeup." And that was that; ICE turned away towards the vanity again and continued with his own makeup he'd started earlier.

Uncle Mike Raph held his eyes open for another second or two, like, was it really okay to blink now? Really? Really really? He wouldn't mess up all of ICE's careful work? Then his eyes watered a little and he blinked real quick so he wouldn't end up washing the makeup away. "Sweet! Thanks a bunch for all that help, ICE, I know for a fact I look fabulous," and he framed his chin between two fingers and sent ICE a winning smile, "but let me just go appreciate your work anyways." He got up to go check it out, and for some reason he was just a liiiittle nervous as he sidled up to the mirror. What if makeup just didn't look good on him? Well, an experiment was an experiment. He took a breath, popped his head up, and his eyes widened.

"ICE?

...holy shell this is awesome!"

(He'd never thought to picture himself wearing goth makeup, before. He hadn't pictured himself wearing makeup at all. Surprisingly enough, he looked super cool!)

#cabin 14 #hem event tag #raph disguise adventures #but also fashion show!!#also Leilani if you want to reblog and add your art that would be super cool! but no pressure

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lemoncrushh · 1 month

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Cubicle // 5) Tonight

STORY PAGE

Word Count: 1555

Roni

I was barely in the door properly when I heard my ringtone chime. I hurriedly dropped my bag on the floor, pushed the door shut with my foot and grabbed my phone which displayed Harry's name.

"Wow, that was fast," I breathed.

"What do you mean?"

"Didn't you just leave work?"

"Actually, I haven't left yet," he explained. "I'm walking to my car as we speak."

"You model employee," I quipped.

"I wouldn't go that far." I could hear the smile in his voice. "But I wanted to get your address so I can put it in my phone."

After I gave it to him, he reminded me he'd be here at eight. As I hung up, I felt the butterflies begin to flutter in my stomach and I got goosebumps. Not from nerves per say, but from a slight release of sexual tension, knowing that I was finally getting a chance to be alone with Harry.

I stripped off my clothes in the bedroom and turned on the shower, stopping for a moment to look at my reflection in the mirror. I'm not vain, but I'm proud to say I like my body. I wouldn't consider it perfect, but I've worked hard to keep it fit and toned. I have curves like any woman, and I'm not ashamed to flaunt them.

In the shower, I lathered up my body head to toe, imagining the places I might just let Harry touch this evening. I ended up getting myself quite worked up but decided against going any further with my own fingers. I wanted to reserve myself for Harry. I shaved my legs and underarms thoroughly, as well as the edges of my pubic area. Some people like to shave it all, but that's just never been my cup of tea. It makes me feel prepubescent and a little too Lolita-ish.

I dried off with a towel and walked back to the bedroom, examining the contents of my closet. I had decided not to stress previously over what I would wear tonight. Last minute decisions tend to work best for me. I pulled out a little black dress that I adore with a swing skirt and spaghetti straps. Harry hadn't told me where we were going, and I hadn't asked, but I figured this little number would work with just about any scenario, not to mention drive Harry crazy.

I grabbed from my drawer the only undergarment I would need, a black lace thong. Then I slipped the dress over my head and stepped into my favorite black heels. I applied my make-up the way I always do. The guy sees me at work every day, there's no sense is shocking him with a clown face. Then I curled my hair only slightly at the ends with my flat iron, letting the tendrils fall softly on my shoulders. Finally, I dabbed a little bit of perfume on my wrists, behind my ears, and down my throat to the bottom of my cleavage. Taking one last look in the mirror, I smiled at myself.

Harry

The truth is, I was a nervous wreck. I've never been this nervous before a date. I'm always so cool, calm and collected, but something about Roni is different. I don't know, it's as though she's got my head spinning. On the way to her place, I stopped at the florist. Something tells me Roni's not your typical red rose girl, so I opted for a bouquet of stargazers that smelled amazing.

I stopped my car in front of her building and made my way up the stairs to her flat. My palms were sweaty, so I quickly wiped them down the front of my jeans, rotating the flowers in each hand. Then I took a deep breath and knocked on her door. Seconds later, Roni opened it, standing before me like a Playboy model in the hottest little dress she could have possibly worn. I felt myself salivate and I temporarily lost my speech.

"Good evening, Harry," she smiled, breaking the ice. "Don't you look handsome."

I let out a breath and blinked. "Thanks. You look beautiful." My voice was raspy and barely audible.

"Thank you," she said as she looked down at her dress. "I hope this is okay."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I let slip out before thinking. With her eyes wide open, I apologized. "Sorry, it's just...you look incredible."

Her eyes then twinkled as she smiled and beckoned me inside. I stepped into the open living area as she shut the door behind me. Everything was a palette of white on dark wood, with splashes of black and light blue. It was all very calming.

"Oh!" I exclaimed when I remembered the flowers. "These are for you."

Another sexy grin grew slowly across her face as she took the bouquet from me and sniffed them.

"How'd you know, Harry?"

"Are they your favourite?" I asked.

With a wink she turned slightly to the right and revealed a stargazer lily tattoo on her left shoulder. Of course, I had never seen it before because her work attire covered it up.

"What are the odds?"

"It's fate," she declared as she turned around and headed towards the kitchen. "Just let me put these in some water, and we can go."

I internally cheered to myself, proud that I not only had gotten something right, but I'd been dead on. Roni returned with the flowers in a tall clear vase. She sat them down in the center of the coffee table and grabbed a small handbag that was sitting near the edge.

"Ready?"

"After you," I nodded and gestured toward the door.

Roni opened it and I followed her back into the hall, waiting while she locked up. I let her walk ahead of me down the stairs, mostly so I could watch her. Fuck, she's so gorgeous. I knew I would have a hard time keeping my hands to myself tonight. I already wanted to touch the skin that I had no doubt was incredibly soft. Even the click of her heels on the wooden stairs was erotic.

When we reached the bottom, I opened the door for her and led her out to my car. When I held the car door, she said thank you and as she brushed past me, I got a whiff of an intoxicating aroma. I groaned as I walked around to my side. As soon as I got in, I glanced over at her legs. Just like my fantasy, only this time her skirt wasn't tight. The way it flowed actually showed more of her legs and it was hot as hell. Possibly catching me gawking, she adjusted her dress, but not so it showed less skin. Bless her.

"So where are we going, Harry?" Roni inquired as I turned the key.

"La Colombe d'Or," I answered in my best French accent.

All I heard was silence so I turned head towards her. Her eyes were huge and her jaw was open.

"Is that okay with you?" I asked.

"Well, yeah, but...Harry," she began and then dropped her voice, "It's so fancy. And...expensive."

"So what? You're not worth it?"

I looked at her again and she gave me the cutest puppy dog eyes. Then she sat back in her seat, resting her head against the headrest with a satisfied look on her face.

Roni

I think the whole idea of keeping a man waiting is total bullshit. He's asked you out, he's coming to pick you up. The least you can do is be ready when he gets there. So I was just sitting on the couch watching the telly when Harry knocked on the door.

My heart almost burst out of my chest like in a cartoon when I saw him. He was dressed in black jeans, a shirt that was such a dark blue it almost appeared black, and a black jacket. His shirt was unbuttoned to the middle of his chest and for the first time I noticed he had tattoos there. I couldn't tell quite what they were yet, but I was determined to find out.

The best part was the way he looked at me. I could tell the dress had been a good decision. When I invited him inside, he handed me the flowers he had been holding. Stargazer lilies are my absolute favourite. So far, this date was going splendidly.

I knew he was checking out my ass on the way down the stairs. I can tell he does that a lot at work too, but I don't mind. When he opened the car door for me, I made sure I touched his arm as I got in. Then I adjusted my dress but not too much. Harry liked what he saw, and that knowledge gave me tingles everywhere.

When I'd asked him where we were going, I was not expecting the answer he gave me. La Colombe d'Or! It's French for The Golden Dove. A super swanky restaurant that I've only been to once with my ex, Roland. Ugh, why did I have to think about him? No, he's no Harry. I can tell that much already. I sat back in my seat, ready for the evening to officially begin.

A/N: Sorry these early chapters are so short. I didn't really write long chapters back then. I usually wrote blurbs that were around the same length, but I never kept up with the word count lol. I think as the story moves along, the chapters get longer.

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

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angelsanarchy · 1 year

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Alkaline: Euronymous x Y/N Series CH 5

Tagging: @ophelialaufey @madamemaximoff06 @forever-not-gonna-sink @ajmiila02 @liquidsmoothdomme @shady-the-simp

Oystein paced nervously watching the sun go down. They were having a party tonight with all their friends and soon to be fans. Pelle's coming out party, if you will. Pelle had asked for a few things that they didn't happen to have at the quick stop near their place so he placed an order for groceries. He wasn't sure if he hoped Y/n would be the one to show up or not because he was already nervous enough. He never let people see him this out of sorts but Pelle didn't seem to really care either way. It's not like he was going to tell people what a nervous wreck he was.

"GROCERIES ARE HERE!" One of the others yelled and he walked out towards the door.

"I have an order for...Oh...you aren't Satan's cock." Y/n laughed.

"Sorry one of the guys put in the order." Oystein grabbed some of the bags from her arms.

"Do you have like a few guys to spare? There's an extraordinary amount of alcohol in the back of the car I can't carry." Like magic Hellhammer, Necrobutcher and a few friends ran towards the car.

"I'd give you the two cent tour but the place is disgusting right now." Oystein explained as she followed him into the kitchen.

"Yeah I didn't expect much from four men living in one place. However your groceries were much different than any orders your parents ever put through. Face paint, condoms, and a pigs intestines...I'm not sure I want to know." She held out the brown bag to Oystein who leaned away from it for Pelle to snatch it.

"That's mine. Thank you." Pelle disappeared up the steps and Y/n laughed.

"Did you want to stay? We're having a party." Oystein offered and she scrunched her face.

"I really shouldn't-"

"Do you know what corpse face paint looks like." Pelle had returned sans pig intestines pointing at finger at Y/n.

"Um...vaguely? White with hollowed holes, right?" She gestured to her eyes and mouth.

"We need your help." Pelle grabbed the bag of paint and Oystein looked between him and Y/n as she stood confused. Oystein held his arm out as if he was directing her to follow Pelle, which she did getting a quick peak at the house as they all tried to fit into the tiny bathroom.

"I need you to paint his face. We want people to fear us. We want to haunt their dreams." Pelle ripped the paint from the bag and started working on his own face. Y/n looked at him still thrown but Oystein just shrugged.

"Can you um...get lower somehow?" She asked making Oystein look for a place to sit. She gestured for him to sit down on the table so she could get to his face at a better angle and she looked over his blank face.

"I don't suppose you have a head band so it doesn't get in your hair do you?" She glanced over her shoulder at Pelle who narrowed his eyes at her. She pulled a hair tie from around her wrist and started pulling Oystein's hair away from his face into a ponytail.

"Okay I've never claimed to be an artist but I will do my best for hellscape and not bozo the clown." She started applying the black first, around his eyes making the blue almost seem darker. She stood between Oystein's knees and could feel his feet bouncing.

"Stop bouncing, just breathe." She whispered close enough to his face that he could smell cinnamon gum on her breath. He quietly apologized and Y/n made sure to keep her lines straight. By the time she was applying the white, Pelle was looking over her shoulder and nodding his approval. He left the bathroom briefly to grab clothes, leaving the two of them alone.

"T-thank you...for doing this." Oystein kept his voice low and Y/n smirked.

"You're welcome lord of darkness." She teased. She pushed his knees together and sat down on top of them so she could use the black paint on his lips. Her hand rested on his chin and he tried to smile at the closeness but she was quick to stop him.

"No smiling! You'll give yourself smile lines and that's not very demonic." She warned. Oystein let his hands rest on her hips as she leaned in so close to his mouth, he was ready to say fuck this party and fuck her right here in the bathroom.

She sat back once she was finished and Pelle returned to look over her work.

"Perfect." Oystein nodded at him and she removed herself from his lap so he could put his leather jacket on and pull his hair from the ponytail. He shook his hair out and they both stared at themselves in the mirror.

"Remember you are the ruler of chaos and death!" Pelle explained to Oystein. Y/n walked over to the sink to clean the paint from her hands. She tried not to smirk watching them pose in the mirror.

"Every one around you is a disgusting, worthless insect!" Pelle continued to try and get Oystein into character and he was starting to feel it.

"We are lords of chaos!" Pelle said and Oystein pivoted on his feet.

"Destroyer of worlds...no?" Pelle laughed at Oystein's attempt and Y/n couldn't help laughing either.

"You guys look badass. I will admit it." Y/n threw her hands up and Pelle handed her a camera.

"Can you take our picture so we'll know how to do our paint for next time?" Pelle asked politely and Y/n wiped her wet hands on her jeans before taking the camera. She made sure to get the perfect angle and shifted them to the side so the lighting was perfect. She took about four photos and the three of them watched them develop impatiently. Pelle handed her one with a slight smile.

"You can say you were here when it all started." Y/n took the photo and smiled at him. It was a silent thank you as he left the bathroom once more and Oystein smiled again.

"AH!" She pointed a quick finger at him and he frowned instead of smiling.

"He doesn't really talk to a lot of people like that. I think he might like you." Oystein opened the bathroom door and Y/n walked out with him.

"What can I say? I draw an interesting crowd." She saw Oystein's eyes and noticed how anxious he looked. She put a hand on his belly to focus him and he cut his eyes to her.

"Go out there and make those people believe the blood that runs through your veins is black and the sounds of hell echo with torture and twisted metal from your music. Show those motherfucking scum who truly reigns supreme." Oystein's breath hitched in his throat at her tone. He wasn't sure she had ever heard her curse like that and it was doing something to him. He nodded his head before walking through the doors to the party going on outside. She watched from the window as his friends greeted him and Pelle with their makeup on and it truly made her happy that he was able to bask in this. She bumped into someone as she was about to slip out the side door.

"Sorry!" She apologized and he just nodded. She assumed he was one of their friends and didn't bother engaging anymore. When she walked outside Hellhammer put a wad of scrunched up, moist bills in her hand as payment and she cringed.

"You're welcome to stay if you want. I don't think Oystein will mind." He offered but she noticed him being ushered over to a group of girls who had just arrived.

"I'm still on the clock but thanks. Have a good night." She waved before walking towards her car. She couldn't help but notice how the girl smirked at Oystein as he spoke. She remembered her face. She was the photographer at the bar. She must take photos of bands or something. Y/n shook her head feeling stupid for even dwelling on this for a second longer than she should. She got in her car and watched the party erupt in chaos before pulling back onto the road knowing she was the last thing on Oystein's mind right now.

#R!Euronymous #Film: Lords of Chaos #One Shot Series #Alkaline #Alkaline Series #Rory Culkin #Culkin Cult #R!Euronymous x Y/n #5/35

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sicknessbysalem · 2 months

Note

god i love saylor and julian. i need MORE. since you just did a saylor fic, can we get another with sick julian?? i think he’s precious. maybe they get invited to a party and he gets sick there or something?? love your work!

i went overboard with this i am sure. but i love making either of them suffer.

if you have anymore questions, comments, concerns, etc., send me a request!

tw emeto, scat, fever, character accidentally getting sick on someone, mentions of homelessness

Julian sat cross-legged on Saylor’s bed, his eyes wide with excitement. "Come on, Saylor! It'll be fun. Just this once, please?"

Saylor sighed, leaning against her desk and crossing her arms. "Julian, you know I'm not a party person. Crowds, loud music, random people... it's just not my scene."

Julian pouted, his expression one of exaggerated disappointment. "But it'll be different with you there. Please? For me?"

She rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "You always know how to twist my arm. Fine, I'll go. But only because it's you."

Julian's face lit up, and he jumped off the bed to give her a quick hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! You won't regret it, I promise."

Saylor laughed, shaking her head. "Yeah, yeah. Now, if we're going to this thing, we might as well do it right.”

“I can do your makeup, you’ll be so hot. Maybe I’ll snag you a girlfriend." Julian told her.

“I’ll do yours so you don’t look like you were expelled from clown college,” Saylor said, “Your taste in men shows it well enough.”

Julian's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Deal! Let's get started."

They gathered their supplies, and Julian sat back on the bed as Saylor began working on his makeup.

She concentrated, her hands steady as she applied eyeshadow and eyeliner, enhancing his already striking features. As she worked, she noticed he felt a bit warmer than usual, his skin slightly flushed. She paused, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Hey, Jules, you feeling okay? You seem a bit warm," she asked, her voice tinged with concern.

Julian shrugged, giving her a reassuring smile. "I'm fine, Saylor. Probably just excited about the party. Keep going, you're doing great."

Saylor nodded, though a part of her couldn't shake the slight worry. She continued applying his makeup, adding the finishing touches with a deft hand. "Alright, you're all set. You look amazing, as always."

Julian grinned, admiring himself in the mirror. "Thanks, Saylor. Your turn now."

They switched places, and Julian took great care in applying her makeup, his touch gentle and precise. Saylor closed her eyes, letting herself relax as he worked. She trusted Julian completely, and the soft brush of the makeup tools against her skin was oddly soothing.

"There," Julian said, stepping back to admire his work. "You look stunning, Saylor."

She opened her eyes and glanced in the mirror, impressed by his skill. "Not bad, Julian. Not bad at all."

"Right… now, what are you wearing?" Julian said, looking over Saylor who was very clearly about to go to the studio or had just come back before Julian came. "Definitely not that… I’m going through your closet."

"No dresses," Saylor said firmly, "Or skirts."

Julian rolled his eyes playfully. "Fine, fine. I know the rules." He walked over to her closet and started picking through her clothes, humming thoughtfully as he examined each piece. "Let's see... we need something that screams 'Saylor' but is also party-appropriate."

Saylor watched him with mild amusement as he pulled out various items, holding them up for consideration. He finally settled on a pair of black ripped jeans and a short sleeve shirt with a collar that looked like a choker necklace with a little metal crescent moon.

"How about this? Edgy, casual, but still says you're here to have a good time… and I am so borrowing that shirt some time.” He told her.

She nodded appreciatively. "Not bad. I can work with that. And you can borrow my clothes at any time, I don’t give a fuck.”

Julian grinned, clearly pleased with his selection. "Glad you said that. I’m going to borrow your studded belt and that cool necklace you have? It'll go perfectly with my outfit."

Saylor raised an eyebrow. "You really think you can pull off my look?"

"Absolutely," Julian replied with a wink. "Besides, it'll be a nice change from my usual style."

She chuckled, shaking her head. "Alright, go ahead. But if you lose my stuff, you're buying me new ones."

"Deal, I’ll make you new ones if you want,” Julian said, already fastening the belt around his waist and slipping on the necklace. He turned to Saylor, admiring their combined efforts. "Look at us, all dressed up and ready to party."

Saylor took a moment to appreciate the transformation. Julian had an uncanny knack for putting together outfits that not only looked good but also felt right. She felt more confident, more herself, even as the prospect of the party still loomed with a mix of excitement and apprehension.

"Okay," she said, taking a deep breath. "Let's do this."

Julian linked his arm with hers, leading the way out of her dorm room. "Remember, we're going to have fun tonight. No stressing allowed."

Saylor nodded, trying to absorb some of his infectious energy. "Yeah, fun. Got it."

The party was in full swing by the time Saylor and Julian arrived. The house was packed with people, music pulsing through the walls and lights casting vibrant hues across the rooms.

Julian's eyes lit up with excitement as he took in the scene, his natural sociability drawing him into the crowd almost immediately.

"Alright, Saylor, let's mingle!" he said, giving her a quick hug before diving into the throng of partygoers.

Saylor smiled, though she felt a bit out of her element. She watched Julian disappear into the crowd, his laughter and animated gestures making him easy to spot even from a distance.

Saylor found a relatively quiet corner to observe the chaos, a way to just han gout and read on her phone, nursing a drink and occasionally chatting with a few familiar faces.

As the night wore on, Julian was in his element, flitting from group to group, making friends effortlessly. Saylor caught glimpses of him often and each time it relaxed her, seeing him more and more alive as the night went on.

But after a couple of hours, he started to feel a bit off. It was a subtle shift at first—a slight queasiness in his stomach that he attributed to the couple of drinks he'd had. Alcohol never really affected him, but he hadn’t had much of an appetite earlier so maybe that was it.

Brushing it off, Julian continued to socialize, but the discomfort in his stomach grew steadily worse. He found himself rubbing his abdomen absentmindedly, trying to ease the nausea that was beginning to take hold.

He took a sip of water, hoping to settle his stomach, but it did little to help.

Julian tried to push through, laughing and chatting with a group of new acquaintances, but his body had other plans. A sharp cramp twisted through his stomach, making him wince.

He excused himself from the conversation and made his way to the bathroom, his steps growing unsteady as the nausea intensified.

Inside the bathroom, Julian leaned over the sink, taking deep breaths and hoping the wave of sickness would pass. He splashed some cold water on his face, but the relief was fleeting. His stomach churned violently, and he felt a bead of sweat trickle down his temple.

He took a deep breath, clutching the edge of the sink. The nausea was relentless, making his head spin and his mouth water in that telltale way that signaled he was about to be sick.

He managed to leave the bathroom and find a quieter spot in the house, but the party felt like it was closing in on him. The music was too loud, the lights too bright, and every movement seemed to jostle his already delicate stomach.

Julian sank into a chair, wrapping his arms around his midsection as another cramp hit. He tried to take slow, deep breaths, but each one seemed to make the nausea worse. His skin felt clammy, and he could feel his pulse racing, a cold sweat breaking out across his forehead.

He closed his eyes, trying to steady himself, but the room spun violently, and he knew he couldn't ignore it any longer. Julian stumbled to his feet, looking around desperately for a place to go. He didn't want to be sick in front of everyone, and he needed to find Saylor.

Pushing through the crowd, Julian's vision blurred with the effort. His legs felt weak, and he could barely focus on where he was going.

He managed to make it to the back of the house, where he found another bathroom. He stumbled inside, barely making it to the toilet before he started to retch.

The first wave of vomit hit him hard, his body convulsing with the force of it. He clung to the toilet, each heave making him feel like his insides were being wrung out.

The taste was bitter and acrid, burning his throat and making his eyes water. He retched again and again, each bout leaving him more drained and disoriented.

Finally, he was left panting, his body trembling with exhaustion. He leaned his head against the cool porcelain, trying to catch his breath.

The nausea still lingered, and he knew he wasn't done yet. Another cramp twisted through his stomach, and he braced himself for the next wave as a threatening burp worked its way up his throat.

Julian managed to pull out his phone, his fingers trembling as he typed a quick message to Saylor. His vision blurred, making it hard to focus, but he managed to hit send before another wave of nausea overtook him.

He barely had time to set his phone down before he was retching again, his body convulsing with the effort. The minutes felt like hours, and he clung to the toilet, praying for the nausea to subside.

Saylor was mingling in the living room when her phone buzzed. She pulled it out, her brow furrowing with concern as she read Julian's message.

Without hesitation, she made her way through the crowded house, pushing past the throngs of partygoers until she found the back bathroom.

She knocked lightly before pushing the door open, finding Julian slumped against the toilet, his face pale and sweaty.

“God, all that time I spent on your makeup and it’s ruined,” Saylor shook her head, “I suppose this is the life of an artist.”

Saylor knelt down beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Jules, what the hell happened to you?" she asked, her voice a mix of concern and teasing.

Julian looked up at her, she could feel him shaking. His breaths were shaky.

“Suddenly… needed to…. Be sick,” Julian stammered, gagging, “Gonna be… sick… hang-“

Saylor rolled her eyes, rubbing his back and pushing his hair back, "You're a complete mess. I leave you alone for ten minutes and you fall apart… But don't worry, we'll fix you up. I’ll take any excuse to get the fuck out of here. You think that’s it?"

Julian nodded weakly when he was done being sick. “Yeah, I think so. Just... need a minute."

Saylor helped him to his feet, supporting him as they made their way out of the bathroom and through the house. Julian leaned heavily on her, each step a struggle, but Saylor kept a steady grip on him, guiding him outside to her car.

Once they were in the car, Julian slumped into the passenger seat, his eyes closed as he tried to breathe through the nausea. Saylor started the engine and glanced over at him. "You sure you're okay, Jules? You look like you've been through a war."

Julian chuckled weakly. "Just a little queasy. Thanks for rescuing me."

Saylor smirked, pulling out of the driveway. "That's what best friends are for. Just try not to puke in my car, okay? I don't think my seats can handle it."

Julian managed a laugh, though it quickly turned into a groan as another wave of nausea hit him. "I'll do my best."

The drive back to the dorms was quiet, save for the occasional gentle teasing from Saylor, trying to keep Julian's spirits up. When they finally arrived, Saylor parked the car and helped Julian inside, supporting him as they made their way to his room.

"Okay, you think you can manage without throwing up for a few minutes?" Saylor asked, eyeing him critically. "I might run to my dorm and grab something less uncomfortable."

"Yeah, sure, I’ll be alright," Julian said, nodding. "I should sleep, honestly. Or try to."

"I’ll be back in like ten minutes then," Saylor said, "Just text me if anything happens."

Julian nodded, giving her a weak smile. As soon as Saylor left, he tried to relax, hoping the worst of his nausea had passed.

But as he lay there, a new, uncomfortable sensation began to build in his stomach. It wasn’t the familiar churn of nausea; it felt more like a pressure, an urgent need that he couldn't ignore.

He groaned softly, forcing himself to sit up. His stomach gurgled ominously, and he knew he needed to get to the bathroom. He staggered to his feet, clutching his stomach as he made his way to the bathroom down the hall.

Inside the bathroom, Julian barely made it to a stall before collapsing onto the toilet. His body seemed to give out all at once, releasing a torrent of diarrhea that left him gasping and shivering. He leaned forward, resting his head on his arm as he tried to ride out the waves of cramping.

Each wave seemed to intensify his nausea, and he clutched his stomach, feeling it twist and turn painfully. The room seemed to spin around him, and he closed his eyes, taking deep, shaky breaths.

He could feel his stomach grumble before something came out of him, splattering into the toilet and leaving him resisting a gag behind closed lips.

Saylor returned to the dorm with a fresh change of clothes. She found Julian's room empty and immediately felt a pang of worry.

If he wasn’t here, she knew where he probably was.

She walked down the hall, hearing faint sounds coming from the bathroom. She pushed the door open gently and called out, "Julian? You in here?"

"Yeah," came Julian's weak reply from one of the stalls. HIs stomach growled again and Saylor heard the splatter into the toilet.

Saylor stayed outside the stall, her voice laced with concern. "You okay in there?"

Julian groaned. "Not really. My stomach is really not doing well..."

Saylor was sure she could hear another unhappy growl coming from her friend’s stomach.

"Are you throwing up or..?" she asked, trying to keep her tone light to ease his discomfort.

"No, not throwing up," he admitted, his voice strained. Saylor knew what that meant, “But it's making me so nauseous."

Saylor leaned against the wall, trying to distract him. "Sounds like that time you got food poisoning from that sketchy taco truck? You were convinced you were dying."

Julian let out a weak laugh. "You stayed up all night with me, making sure I didn't actually die."

"Yeah, and you owe me for that," she teased. "I had to miss my art history class the next morning. And you vomited in my purse in the lunch room because you could have sworn you would be fine to eat lunch that afternoon.”

Silence. Or mostly silence. Saylor heard a sick sound coming from the other side of the door. She heard Julian burp, wet and threatening, before she heart another round of diarrhea splash into the toilet.

"I’m here, okay?" Saylor said.

After what felt like an eternity, Julian's stomach finally seemed to settle. He cleaned himself up as best he could and stepped out of the stall, looking pale and exhausted.

Saylor gave him a sympathetic smile. "Feel better?"

"I think I’m-," Julian went to say, Saylor assumed he was going to agree. But then, he stopped. He stumbled, Saylor did not like the look of him.

"Whoa, easy there," she said, her arms around him.

Julian tried to steady himself, but it was too late. He doubled over, vomiting violently. The force of it took both of them by surprise, and Saylor found herself splattered in the process.

Julian gasped, his eyes wide with horror. "Oh God, Saylor, I'm so sorry..."

Saylor looked down, sighing softly “Well, I guess I’ll just have to borrow your clothes?”

“I’m so sorry…” Julian said, “I didn’t expect to-“

"Hey, it's okay. Not the first time, remember?" Saylor said.

Julian's stomach heaved again, and he vomited once more, the nausea relentless. He didn’t want to know if he threw up on Saylor again, but if he did she didn’t say anything. He felt her whip him around and shove him back in the stall, more panicked than aggressive. The sudden motion took his stomach with it and he was having over the toilet before he could even process he was still feeling nauseous.

Saylor held him steady, her hand rubbing gentle circles on his back. "Just get it all out, Jules. You'll feel better once it's over."

He vomited so hard that it came out of his nose, the acid burning his sinuses and making his eyes water. He coughed violently, the choking sensation making him retch even harder. Each heave was more intense than the last, his body shaking with the effort.

Saylor stayed by his side, her hand rubbing his back in slow, soothing circles, occasionally patting it when he coughed particularly hard.

"You're okay, Jules," she murmured. "Just breathe. Get it all out."

Julian's stomach continued to contract painfully, forcing up wave after wave of vomit. The sound was harsh and guttural, each retch echoing off the tiled walls.

He could feel his throat burning, and his nose was running from the vomit that had come up through it. He coughed again, the action making him vomit even harder.

His body felt like it was on fire, the fever adding to his misery. Sweat poured down his face, mixing with tears of exertion. He could barely catch his breath between heaves, his whole body wracked with the effort of expelling whatever was making him so sick.

Saylor’s hands disappeared for a second, before they came back. Julian didn’t know where they went. Though he wouldn’t admit it, he was thankful to feel her hand. It was grounding, something keeping him from panicking while his stomach decided to pitch a fit.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the vomiting began to subside. Julian leaned heavily against the toilet, his body trembling with exhaustion. He took deep, ragged breaths, trying to calm his racing heart.

Saylor stayed close, her hand still on his back. "You're doing great, Julian," she said softly. "Just a little more. You've got this."

Julian nodded weakly, too drained to respond. He could feel the last remnants of nausea lingering but hoped the worst was over. He leaned back against Saylor, grateful for her steady presence. He felt more than usual. She must have taken off her shirt, probably anticipating he was going to do this, leaving her in a sports bra and shorts.

"It's okay," Saylor whispered, brushing a strand of hair from his sweaty forehead. She stroked his cheek gently, then clicked her tongue is a disappointed way, “Jules, you’re burning up…”

Julian felt her hands on his face as she tried to confirm it. He was so exhausted he couldn’t seem to care. Not right bow. He just wanted to lay back against her.

He felt a finger run under his eye, "God, your poor thing…” Saylor said.

Julian knew he was probably super sick. Or startled Saylor enough with the sudden severity of his stomach giving him hell. Saylor was never this gentle, not with anyone. She wasn’t built to be gentle, not after how she grew up. And yet, here she was. Being gentle and worried, her strong and sarcastic demeanor shifting to something more caring and subdued.

Saylor grabbed a poece of toilet paper, wiping off Julian’s face. He wished he could say he was embarrassed but he was so exhausted.

“You look like shit,” Saylor said. That was the Saylor he knew and loved.

“Feel like it too,” Julian said, “My stomach is not happy… I won’t be sick but damn…”

Saylor sighed, “You're okay now. Let's get you back to bed. I’ll stay with you until they threaten to expel me.”

Julian nodded again, his eyes half-closed with exhaustion. "Thanks, Saylor," he managed to whisper. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'd do the same for me," Saylor replied, her voice filled with affection. "Now let's get you comfortable."

Saylor helped him stand, leading him back to his room. She helped him to bed, grabbed one of his t-shirts from the drawer and slipped it on, though the way it fit she was sure it was hers, before grabbing him some water.

She set that down, and Julian watched her as she grabbed the small trash can by his desk. There was nothing in it, he knew that. But he watched her put paper towels in the bottom and then a few bags from one of their grocery runs.

“It lessens the mess and keeps it quiet if you have to throw up but don’t want anyone knowing…” Saylor said, acknowledging the way he watched her.

“How do you know that?” Julian asked, his voice weak but curious. “Why do you know that?”

“Hostels and shelters might kick you out if they find out you’re sick,” Saylor said plainly. “And as someone who’s homeless with stomach issues, you do what you can for a safe place. Or… safer than sleeping on the streets.”

Julian's eyes widened, "You were homeless?"

Saylor sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I mean… I have been since I was eighteen. Of course I work on campus on breaks as much as I can, but if I can’t be here then my current option is my car.”

“Did your parents just kick you out when you were eighteen?” Julian asked curiously.

“Technically, I spent most of my teen years on the streets to get away from my parents’ bad habits. Stealing to survive, doing whatever it took to get by." Saylor said, “But, I had a place the cops dropped me off at when they caught me until I was eighteen. Then I left the state, came here, and now do what I can to survive.”

Julian, trying to get comfortable despite his lingering nausea, looked at her with a mixture of surprise and concern. "I had no idea, Saylor. I mean, I knew things were tough for you, but I didn't realize..."

Saylor shrugged, giving him a small smile. "It’s not something I talk about much. I don’t give a fuck about it and usually when I tell people they get all pitying and overbearing. But yeah, it was rough. You do what you can to survive. Do you want me to read some fashion articles? I have a few saved.”

Julian reached out and took her hand, squeezing it gently. "Tell me more, if you're okay with it. I want to understand."

Saylor looked down at their joined hands, her expression softening. She shifted on the bed, sitting beside Julian, “How’s your stomach?”

“Hurts, queasy,” Julian sighed. “Just… talk to me?”

“God, I hate that feeling,” Saylor said, reaching over, rubbing his stomach gently to help ease his discomfort. "Alright. What do you want to know?"

Julian closed his eyes, focusing on the comforting sensation of her hand on his stomach. "Everything, I guess. What was it like? How did you manage?"

Saylor took a deep breath, "It was... scary, mostly. You never knew where your next meal was coming from or if you'd have a safe place to sleep. I don’t want to talk about my parents, but in short home wasn't safe. I started staying out more, crashing with friends or in shelters when I could. But sometimes, I just had to find a corner to hide in and hope no one bothered me."

Julian listened intently, his heart aching for her. "How did you get by? I mean, day to day?"

"Stealing, mostly," Saylor admitted, her voice quiet. "I got pretty good at it, too. Not proud of it, but when you're starving, you do what you have to. I tried to avoid trouble, but it found me more often than not. I started working in fast food when I was sixteen. Every shift I could possibly come up with. Do an overnight shift and go to school and then come back to work as soon as the day was done. I tried putting money away but then my mom stole it, so when I was eighteen I had nothing.”

Julian looked at her, very clearly intrigued and curious, and not at all pitying. "I can't even imagine. I grew up in a bubble, I guess. Everything was always taken care of. Hearing what you went through... it makes me realize how lucky I've been."

Saylor smiled, leaning down to kiss his forehead. "You are lucky, Jules. But don't feel guilty about it. Just means you can appreciate what you have and maybe help others who aren't as fortunate."

Julian nodded, feeling a bit more settled despite his lingering queasiness. "You’re right. I’m glad you’re here, Saylor. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Saylor chuckled softly. "Probably be a lot more miserable right now."

Julian laughed weakly. "True. Thanks for being here. And for telling me. It means a lot."

Saylor continued to rub his stomach gently, her touch soothing. "Anytime, Jules. Now try to rest. I'll stay right here until you fall asleep."

Julian nodded, “and hey, for what it’s worth. You’re one of the strongest people I know.”

“Well, you have the strength composition of a worm, that doesn’t take much. I can bench press you any day.” Saylor teased.

Julian smiled, squeezing her hand lightly.

#emeto #sickfic #emeto fic #emeto cw #emeto tw #emetophilia #fever cw #fever tw #emeto writer #scat cw #angst tw #homelessness mention tw

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caitlynnrosespn · 1 year

Text

Need Help With Jack?

I AM NOT SAYING YA'LL ARE DOING IT WRONG I AM JUST HERE TO HELP WITH SOME OF THE TRICKIER PARTS OF HIM OKI

Before we begin I just wanna say that I have CPTSD (what he would reasonably have from his childhood) and I am have been doing theater and performances for a very long time, so while I don't have a perfect understanding of Jack there are some things I can help with (by the way @the-l-is-silent-yall did a great post about writing Mihaly which encouraged me to post this so check that out)

This is going to be long, so here we go:)

First off. His makeup.

I've seen some people say he is wearing makeup to seem more feminine, but that's not really the purpose of this kind of makeup. This is a type of makeup that is formerly known as contemporary makeup. In traditional western theater, it is used on performers (usually actors or dancers) to highlight their features so they don't fade in the bright stage lights. Without it, performers would look washed out or blank to the audience. It is composed of powder, foundation, rouge, lipstick, and eyeliner. Female or feminine presenting performers will also wear mascara, and some actors will apply highlighter and bronzer to accentuate or create features depending on the character they play, but actors of all gender orientation will have to wear some sort of makeup. The most telling mark of Jack wearing this type of makeup is the eyeliner and lipstick, which helps you more clearly see his features when the camera zooms out. It also helps the performer's features stand out, since he is covered in white paint. Now up close this makeup looks like it's too much makeup or it makes his features look weird, but that's the point. I have had directors tell me "if you look in the mirror and see a clown, you are doing it right." Theater makeup of any kind looks over exaggerated up close on purpose, so it reads to the audience who is far away.

Next let's talk about how to write a very important part of his story: his trauma.

Now I've seen a lot of fics talk about Jack's relationship with The Traveler, and how there is mutual distrust, and how basically Jack is afraid of The Traveler in the same way Jack fears Nightswan. While I'm not saying this is necessarily wrong, (although I would love to see The Traveler be a good father just this once) it would make more sense if Jack was afraid of someone else:

Si'ha Nova.

In Jack's life, most of his trauma and insecurity came from his mother. He was raised to believe that Nightswan's treatment of him was normal among all families. Because that trauma came from Nightswan, he has a bigger chance of struggling with women in parental roles rather than men in father roles. Because most of my trauma was from my dad and other men, I had a hard time trusting older men. PLEASE don't take this the wrong way and think "oh, see he hates women." NO! What I'm saying is that Jack would have a hard time trusting and opening up with anyone he perceives as motherly. He might have more trauma responses when around Si'ha, such as flinching more around her or seeming more closed off. This can of course be helped, and I'm sure Si'ha won't have a hard time building trust with Jack. Now of course he might still have his trust issues and reservations about The Traveler, but it would be a lot less worse than those he would have with Si'ha. (i'm saying this in a mean way, this is just what I've learned about childhood trauma)

Now let's take about the inevitability of a trigger for Jack.

Triggers are the weirdest thing in the world. Sometimes they are obvious things. As an abuse survivor, I don't like people jump-scaring me and I feel uncomfortable when people start handling belts (i even rarely wear one) which is all pretty self explanatory and stuff and you would think that's the same for the rest of my triggers, right? Nope! No I can't watch Victorious, I freeze up when the Arizona Storm alarms play, and I will have a literal breakdown whenever I see one of those plagiarism warning screens. Also can't watch horror movies. Do they make sense to me? Not at all. But the reason they trigger my CPTSD is because somewhere in my brain, in my suppressed memory, my brain is reminded of my trauma and is launched into flight or fight mode.

Jack's triggers might be something that makes sense, like being in the mirror room or seeing something about the Swan Soldiers. But, he would also have more explainable or random triggers. A specific color could remind him of his mom. A melody could remind him of a song that was playing during a rehearsal gone wrong. A certain smell could remind him of a room that he wasn't particularly fond of in Nightswan tower.

So what exactly would be the best way to write Jack having a breakdown? Glad you never asked!!! I shall still answer!!

Jack having a breakdown could go down one of two ways. One, he could get really combative, aka fight. Not like throwing hands combative, but like suddenly being overly defensive and irritated over little things. Assuming someone notices this change of behavior, it would take a few moments until his brain finally perceives that there is no actual threat, and then celebrate by gifting Jack with an intense breakdown complete with tears and a panic attack that will literally leave him breathless. Option two, the flight option, will see Jack suddenly feeling the need to escape. Maybe he'll need to leave a room, or need to get off the street and into a building, or he might not even be able to be in the same room as someone. When his brain finally decides the danger is no longer in the room with us he will have a similar breakdown as he did in option one. But of course, there is a third, more fun, more secret option. Option three, freeze.

I'm a freeze person, and freeze is ten times worse than option one and two combined. When someone freezes, they will escape to a space devoid of people or possible threats. They will then find a place where they can observe all sides of the room without needing to turn, preferably a corner, make themselves smaller via holding their chest to their knees, and then have that extra special breakdown. The problem with freeze is your brain never has the opportunity the decide if the threat is actually gone, so instead of moving on you are stuck in this feeling of being in danger even if obviously you are not.

The best way you can write someone (most likely Wanderlust, knowing you guys) helping out is:

-No touching until he calms down. Touching always makes things worse. Not until he can voice that he is calming down.

-Trying to communicate breathing/grounding exercises. It will take a minute before he responds and partakes. @apexious wrote a really good example of this, just with reversed roles.

-Weighted blankets weighted blankets weighted blankets weighted blankets

-Have them try to voice what he is feeling/what he perceives the danger to be. Usually helps reduce trigger responses if they are encountered again.

And the last thing I want to note about Jack is that traumatic memories will most likely fade with time. Not the actual trauma or the memories behind them, but specific details will be hard to recall such as his specific age when it happened, where it happened, or other specific details. The brain likes to do that to protect you from specifically traumatizing or harmful memories.

Sorry for the essay, but I hope this helps!!! If you have any other questions regarding this, feel free to message me/drop it into my dropbox!!! Happy writing!!!

#just dance 2023 #just dance #just dance 2024 #jack rose jd #jack rose just dance #wanderlust just dance #lgtbqia+#lgbt characters #fanfic

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j0kers-light · 3 days

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hi Chaos!!! I'm not sure if you self ship, I’m sorry for assuming if you don't! Pls don't be mad at me! I just wonder how you would interact with J since you have such a kind and bubbly personality! Can we get a Chaos x J fic if its not too much trouble?

His Lighthouse: Compromise (LedgerJoker x Chaos fic)

KEEP IN MIND THIS IS NOT A CHAPTER UPDATE!

Omg anon me? Bubbly?🤣

You're the fourth person to ask me for a Chaos x Joker fic over the years. Tbh, I don't self ship and I doubt it'll be what you are expecting... this was weird to write. I despise writing in first person, you can probably tell. Sorry not sorry. It might even read weirdly but it can't be helped. 🤷🏾‍♀️

The people wanted a glimpse into Joker and Chaos' relationship.. so here ya go. Enjoy I guess? I decided not to tag anyone since its a self ship and not related to the series. 🖤✨

I couldn’t tell you exactly how Joker and I came to be.

Like the ever-changing tides, we simply collided and haven’t ceased to drift apart. He would brag about holding me hostage and eventually falling head over heels and I would provide a more sensible story.

The dumb clown crashed into my living room and never bothered to leave. Something mundane I assure you brought us together. No matter the truth, Joker was attracted to my chaotic nature like a moth to a flame. He called me his ticking time bomb. I called him my headache. A match made in heaven said no one ever.

Yet somehow, we work. Just barely.

His top three placed a bet on how long I would aggravate Joker until he killed me off. As the days turned into months, they were in awe how I remained alive. It baffled them how my dull indifference could coincide with Joker’s madness.

We defied the laws of the universe being together until suddenly we clashed. A ticking time bomb indeed.

“Who’s the kid?”

Whispers spread around the hideout; each one growing increasingly more curious about the female blissfully unaware of the attention she was receiving. It was a rare sight to see any outsiders at the hideout, but a girl?

This was new.

Not like I cared about the leering glares sent my way.

I had my headphones on, music on full blast, as I moseyed my way down the maze-like hallways. I probably should ask someone for help to avoid going in circles, but I had time to kill.

Frost was ever gracious to give me vague directions on how to get to Joker’s office. It was obvious he wanted me far away from the hideout and Joker.

Too bad that wasn’t happening.

Frost had better accept the fact that I was a fixture in Joker’s life and learn to get along with me.

I knew my blue hair would turn heads and I fed into the stares by flicking a few strands over my shoulder.

Honestly, the attention put an added pep in my step. If I had cared a bit more, I would have dressed up for the rare occasion, but I thrived best in sweatpants and a baggy hoodie. At least I had some sense to take my bonnet off. My bare minimum would have to be enough.

I didn’t help quell the whispers with my beat-up Converses and my huge cow print tote bag filled to the brim. It was bigger than me and I looked fresh out of high school because of it. To make matters worse, I blew a bubble of gum as I turned the corner, right into a common room filled with men.

All eyes turned to me as well as every weapon in the room. I hardly batted an eyelash.

“Mm well, this is awkward. Does anyone know where Joker’s office is?” I calmly asked. I really needed to work on reading a room.

Eleven minutes later, the man of the hour walked in followed by his loyal three.

Joker and I hadn’t been together for long yet I already had the joy of meeting his top brass. Frost and I butted heads like siblings. I think Mac is secretly terrified of me and I rather not talk about the walking STD named Neo.

No, my focus was solely on Joker.

It was usually my job to apply his makeup and the fact he did it without me stung. I tried not to let it affect me and failed miserably.

I wasn’t the clingy type by no means, yet I found myself missing Joker in ways that scared me. I hate hugs, yet I had to fight the urge to not run over and tackle him. This man was changing me and I didn't know if it was for the better.

I watched Joker like a hawk from my tiny chair prison in the back of the room.

Two goons flanked my side since they labelled me an intruder the moment I walked in. They refused to believe I was here to see Joker and thought letting him to deal with me personally was the right course of action.

I couldn’t wait to see the smug grins fall from their faces. That is, if Joker was actually happy to see me. It felt like ages since I saw him last.

None of Joker’s goons knew he and I were in a relationship, so this visit was a surprise for everyone.

My eyes followed Joker as he sat down in the front to start a meeting or something. I did not want to wait around for him to finish, so I announced my presence in a subtle way.

I smirked knowing full well that Joker heard my bell anklet the moment I shifted my foot. It was one of the first gifts he gave me early on in our relationship.

“I should put a bell on ya, Chaos.” This was said after he almost sucker punched me for ‘walking up on him.’ I needed something to signal my arrival since I was too light on my feet.

Joker would hate himself if he accidentally hurt me in self defense, so he commissioned an anklet with a bell for me to wear. I didn’t mind the soft chime. Overtime, it became another key feature that identified me.

Watching Joker’s eyes widen was the highlight of my night. I waved as I popped another bubble with my gum. “Hi.”

Frost looked ready to have a heart attack, and the rest of the goons held their breath, waiting to see how this would play out.

Much to their dismay, Joker was at a loss for words and couldn’t react properly.

I remember he said none of his past lovers visited his hideouts. I decided to be the first to prove a point. Unbothered by the room full of attention, I reached down to grab my bag.

The two goons keeping me prisoner watched helplessly as I stood up, “I brought you dinner and a piece of cake.” I said aloud.

I dug out a lunchbox and boldly walked up to Joker. He had yet to say anything, so I rolled my eyes and opened the bento for him.

Joker and just about everyone else was captivated by my soft voice. There was something about it that immediately calmed the nerves and made you listen.

“Its your fav. Mongolian beef with steamed rice and um p-pickled veggies.”

Apparently, Joker’s shock wore off after hearing that. He visibly shook his head clear and reached for my wrist that was steadily pulling out food containers. “What’re you doing here?” He hissed.

Everyone was listening so I didn’t see the point in whispering. I still had my headphones on, and the noise cancellation wasn’t helping me with my own volume control.

“Is you deaf? I just said—”

Without warning, Joker ripped my headphones off. Now he had my full attention. “I thoughT I told you to stay away from.. this. My err criminal stuff.” Joker said.

In the background, Mac and Neo were trying their best to kick everyone out of the room but it was impossible. Everyone was trying to be nosy.

It wasn’t every day that the boss interacted with others much less a woman. And their curiosity skyrocketed when I arched an eyebrow and caught an attitude.

“That ain’t got nothing to do with me. I’m trying to be more open and show that I actually care about you, but what’s the point if you don’t appreciate it?”

Joker pinched the bridge of his nose. He already knew where I was going with this.

This was just a continuation of our earlier argument—the exact reason why he stormed off to his hideout and cut off all communication with me.

“I. Appreciate. The. Gesture but did ya have to make a big show of it in front of my men?” Joker asked. He had a reputation to uphold and me barging in like I owned the place didn’t help with graphics.

As if I cared. Jokers’s reputation was the last thing on my mind.

“Ion care about them! I came here with food— that I made out of the goodness of my heart, and you’re being ungrateful. Oh my God, what more do you want from me?!”

Joker tried to interject, “I told you want I want.”

I had enough and raised my voice.

“Then ya ain’t getting it! I’m sooo sorry you fell in love with an asexual person, but I warned you. Don’t cry me a river now, Justin!”

“Who is Justin?” Joker asked.

“Its a song title Joker. Don’t change the subject.”

He quickly stood up from his chair, causing it to fall over. “We are not having this arg-u-ment here.” And then he started walking away.

I follow him out of the room ignoring the crowd watching our fight unfold. I had tunnel vision and Joker was the only thing on my mind.

“Oh really? Where else are we gonna have it? You don’t answer my texts or calls. You refuse to come back to my apartment. You’re running away as we speak.”

My words must’ve got under his skin because Joker stopped in his tracks. “I am not running.”

I huff and stare him in the eye. Did he not see the problem here? “Then face me! Get angry! Scream, yell. Do anything besides brushing me off!”

Joker grumbled something under his breath as he looked around. “I can’t.. talk to you when you’re like this.”

He finally said so I could hear him and that only made me more frustrated. “Ohhhhh blame it on me! You’re a coward Joker, you know that?”

A gasp to my right made me turn and address the men gawking at me in horror. I didn’t like having an audience anymore when I was discussing personal issues. I took out my anger on them.

“And what y’all staring at? Don’t y’all got some crime or something illegal to commit? You can go! Goodbye!” I watched as they scattered off until its just me, Joker, and Frost left in the hallway.

The latter eyeing his boss pensively. “You good Boss?”

Frost and I may not see eye to eye, but he didn’t want me dead. The way Joker was acting, I was tempting fate with each breath I took.

“Leave. Now.” Joker growled. He locked eyes with Frost and a single nod was passed between them. Whatever that meant.

That left me and Joker alone in the hall and looking at him made the wind in my sails deflate. He looked angry, more so than I’ve ever seen him.

I yelped when Joker grabbed my wrist and tugged me down the hallway without a single word.

My cries for him to slow down went ignored as he shoved me into a room and slam the door shut. My heart was in my throat. Joker pinned me to the door with no escape possible.

He was shaking in anger, but I wasn’t afraid. This wasn’t my first time on the receiving end of Joker’s murderous glare. I could handle his insanity with a bit of my own.

“Mm... I can’t even do what I want to ya.” Joker teased. His eyes swept me over, giving away his dirty thoughts.

I roll my eyes, “Only you would get turned on by my genuine anger. You're such a freak.” I jump at Joker hitting the door as a warning.

“Watch. It. Any other names ya got in that pretty little head of yours?”

“Joker.” I say, only to gasp when he said my name in the same cautious tone.

He was serious. I cleared my throat and tried a different angle.

“I... um. I understand if you want to b-break up with me. No one really gets the whole asexual thing and um.. you’re right. I t-treat you more like a friend than a partner and I.. I um—”

Talking was hard to do with Joker kissing my neck. It tickled and Joker must have noticed because he started nibbling my neck here and there to amp up the sensation. “Keep talkin, pretty girl.”

“I can’t.” I let my head fall back against the door.

Joker was cheating by using my sensitivity to touch to his advantage. He kept kissing and biting my neck as his hands slid down and held me closer.

I couldn’t stop the soft whimper I made, and Joker knew then that he won.

“I don’t.. wanna break anything, bunny. All I’m asking is… mmm, is for moments like.. this.” He pulled away after a final kiss behind my ear.

He liked seeing my skin painted red by his lipstick and my glassy eyes helplessly staring up at him was the cherry on top.

Only he got to see me in such a state. Joker’s finger caressed my cheek as he spoke.

“You told me you aren’t sex repulsed so uhhhh.. some contact is okay right? Soooo, can I kiss ya doll? Is that okay?”

I looked at Joker thinking it over.

His eyes were practically glowing as his fingers make a detour to curl around a strand of my hair. He loves the hue, he told me countless times it reminds him of the city skyline at night, but to see the pure fascination for my curl pattern, is something else entirely.

He loves playing with my hair, it’s one of the rare physical acts I let him do.

I don’t mind some affection if it’s platonic, (and even then, I have a limit) but the intimacy Joker desired was just too much for me to handle. We'd been together for months with no romantic contact. I was perfectly fine with that but Joker had reached his wits end. He put me on the spot and demanded to know what I felt for him.

And my honest ace reaction was to blurt out, ‘I don’t like you like that.’

Rejection gave him the impression that I didn’t want him which was far from the truth! I wanted him with every fiber of my being.

Joker didn’t understand why it was so difficult for me to love him. He was ignorant until I came out and told him.

That was weeks ago.

And now I was face to face with his newfound logic. Both of us changed in the time apart. Joker seemed to be more understanding of my spectrum, and I was willing to compromise and test my limits with intimacy with him.

All that remained now was to give Joker permission. With four words I did just that.

“I’m a bad kisser.” I mumble.

Joker snorted and traced my lips with his thumb. “Let me be the judge of that.”

“O-Okay.”

For months, J wondered what my lips would feel like against his. He could honestly say it was worth the wait.

#self indulgence time #joker x oc #asexual relationship #asexual representation #ace representation #thanks anon!#thanks for the ask!#asexual #ledger joker #heath joker #heath ledger #ledger!joker #heath ledger!joker #chaos universe

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blitzosicedcoffee · 28 days

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Ficlet: Daring to Dream

Timeline: Night after Apology Tour. When he's at home after the party.

-----------

Blitz lays on his couch staring up at the ceiling, the plastic glow in the dark stars he put up there are still there from when he and Loona had a celestial themed movie night when he first adopted her.

He smiles to himself remembering how nervous they both were. Two people that hadn't been loved in a long time, making a connection. Blitz becoming someone she could rely on.

He frowns as the stars start to remind him of Stolas. Reaching his hand up like he could grab one, but would it just burn through him?

That's what he's told himself the whole time they've been together. That this...thing with Stolas would burn him. Like everything always did. Like he always did to other people.

"I'm just a dream to him", he says out loud in a whisper to himself, pulling his arm back to his chest. Clenching his hand around his mother's collar.

What if I dared to dream? He thinks. What would he dream for? Love...acceptance...comfort?

All things he feels when he's with Stolas. Fuck can he get a break from thinking about him for one minute? This is his dream. His.

You know what I wanna do?

What?

I wanna have my own circus. With clowns and horses. And a big office!

An office? For a circus?

Yeah! Circus business with clowns and horses! And they'll all have good names like stapler. And buscuit queen!

Haha that sounds like a good business.

And if you apply, I'll hire you!.....maybe

You'll hire me?

Yeah if I feel like it!

But his dream will now always involve Stolas. FUCK. He holds his head, get out of my head you pompous, rich, fucker! You sweet, caring, laughs at my fucking jokes, wants to hear about my day, buys me horse shit...GAH!

He pushes his eye sockets as they fill with tears, trying to will them to stop producing but it's no use. The flood is here.

"Momma what would you say?" He says out loud again. Probably that he should go apologize. For real. Once Stolas wakes up and isn't drunk off his bird ass.

"But it's so scary momma, I can't do it..." He tells her again. It's like he can feel her touch on his cheek, wiping his tears.

Hun you're being silly. He cares for you that's clear, she'd say.

"MOMMA I DONT DESERVE HIM! Or anyone", he cries into the pillow. His mom's phantom hands caressing down his horns. Then she's gone. And he's only left with himself. As he's been for the last 15 years.

If he dared to fucking dream a new dream. One with Stolas. What would that even look like?

Would they go out for iced coffee, would they have more adventures on earth? Would they watch favorite movies on the couch as he falls asleep against his soft chest? Would they talk endlessly about their interests while holding each other close?

Or would they just...fuck?

He doesn't know what could happen. It's all a mystery. And that is fucking terrifying.

He jumps as his phone makes bird cooing sounds, and he quickly swipes it open.

Stols: Can we please talk tomorrow?

Fuck it's still night. He's still drunk. Maybe the text was a mistake?

Fucking take what you can get bitch.

He swallows the pit in his throat and hovers his claw over an automatic reply and closes his eyes, pressing it.

Blitz: Of course.

Fuckin hell why did he feel like he was gonna stop breathing? Now all he has to do is wait. Yeah he isn't getting sleep tonight. Again.

#helluva boss #blitzø #stolitz #helluva boss blitzo #blitz #stolas #helluva boss stolas #helluva boss stolitz #helluva stolitz #angst #my fanfiction #blitzo helluva boss #blitzosicedcoffee #ao3 #helluva blitz #helluva boss fanfiction

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loveislandthegame · 2 months

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thoughts on today's volume! this was certainly an experience. 🙂 for real tho, we've definitely reached the point of the season where everything starts flying off the rails

i'm putting my clown costume on & continuing my natasha route, she told MC that her and stefan are just friends (i was getting mixed signals in this volume tbh, but if stef/natasha are actually romantic if you're off their routes , i'm just gonna assume it's glitches or FB being too lazy to branch rather than her being dishonest)

unfortunately for those who thought uma being a returning islander was going to be a fake-out , hamish brought her ass back in a friendship couple (granted he would've been dumped if he didn't twist, but he seriously couldn't have picked anyone else ? 😭)

then we play whatever this challenge was, i was mentally checking out . i hyped all the guys up except finn. it really bothers me that he keeps flirting with MC no matter how many times i've pied him off, it's giving suresh

i also thought that uma was going to be dumped due to her lack of a redesign ... perhaps fixing her weirdly long broken arm & "5 seconds away from pissing herself" pose is asking too much of FB, but they could've at least given her a new hair & outfits 😭 it wouldn't fix her personality but jeez (slightly off topic but i think uma's face is gorgeous, FB did her so dirty in so many different ways)

i picked all the chill options with her. side note, i'm so bored with these rivals that just go after whoever you're coupled up with . i'd be much more invested if the drama was like: stefan trying to have a proper relationship with natasha, hamish trying to win her back, or even uma wanting to pursue her

speaking of the drama, chen randomly decides that he's somehow more compatible with somebody he's known for a grand total of two days than the person he's been madly in love with for this entire season ... really bad paraphrasing here but my jaw was on the ground when he was like "uma is actually interested in melbourne and did research about it, you shouldn't move to my home city because of me, what if you hate it🥺." mind you, my MC is also australian

FB keeps reusing this "LI and MC fighting because they had a disagreement over the most miniscule bullshit" plot point and i don't understand why . later on he apologises but it's just so...ugh . Overbearing i guess ? idk how to describe it but i think i'm done with him

my tinfoil hat theory is that FB is trying to ruin everybody's route to make finn look good by comparison, and that's just not happening for me luv, but i will say that it made me appreciate hamish more . he's a hot mess but his scenes with MC are very sweet (love a friends to lovers moment)

at least the chen drama gave me the strength to go to the hideaway with natasha without feeling guilty (that damn hyperempathy lmao)

of course we get The Box™ again, but this time there's sexy...crossword ? 😭 (like i've said before, i don't care about these scenes so i can test out whatever FB adds without being like "damnnn that was a waste of time")

it's definitely better than dice, it's not some super spicy thing, just (at least with natasha, idk if it can change) neck kisses before the option of going all the way/bits/cuddling . sexy crossword is a deeply unserious concept but i would go with it if you're tired of the other options

next up is movie night, my MC is a hoe (mainly in the sense that anybody on a wlw route can't officially be with their LI until the final recoupling, but i'm also on hamish's route now) but i didn't do anything in casa, so i wonder what her clip will be. my prediction is that it'll end up being something that can apply to all players e.g. the PDA awards drama

(can't wait for everyone to clutch their pearls over MC turning down finn for the one millionth time 😍)

#love island the game #litg #litg s9 #litg season 9 #litg all stars #litg spoilers #spoilers

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beanghostprincess · 8 months

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Why is shanks/buggy so underrated in this side of fandom? It’s much more loved in Japanese one, one of the most popular for shanks. I feel like this one prefers other mlm options for him and I don’t get it. It got better after OPLA I think but still. Sorry for my English!

Oh! This is actually such an interesting question. I was talking about this the other day and I came to a conclusion with my friend about this. Basically, there are a lot of things to take into consideration here. The screentime, the age of the characters, the chemistry, how they're perceived by the fandom and canonically, etc etc etc.

The first thing I thought about was the screentime, honestly. Shanks and Buggy grew up together and they have a deep bond, however, we've only seen that through flashbacks (one in quite literally episode 8 of the anime, another one in Wano that isn't even about them and they're just side characters in this flashback, and in chapter 1082 of the manga. But it's not even a proper flashback because we already saw that when Shanks talks to Whitebeard about Buggy, it's just Buggy's interpretation of it) and we only have like one scene of them together that isn't even two minutes long. So, quite obviously you'd think "well, the ship isn't as popular as other ships because they barely have any screentime" and I think it's correct but also not quite. And also, this would also have to apply to the Japanese fandom at the end of the day. Fandoms don't give a single fuck about screen time if the chemistry is right, really, but there's always this factor, y'know. Lawlu has less screentime than Zolu and yet it's more popular somehow because people absolutely love their dynamic. Then, if you stop to think about it, both Satosugu (Jjk) and Soukoku (Bsd) have the same dynamic and concept as Shuggy, but they're by far the most popular ships in their fandoms. They're basically the same ships but Jjk and Bsd give them proper development and story because they're shorter series. One Piece is a long show and we still have many things to see, even if we know it's gonna end soon, so I guess that we'll still have to wait to see more of Shuggy. Once we do, I'm sure it'll become more popular. Also, Shanks' personality is very diverse because he's all mysterious and all, so I kind of understand why people don't want to make content because they still don't have him figured out.

But then again, screen time isn't really the problem. It's just one of the factors. If they had more screen time, they'd be more popular for sure, yes, but it's not exactly what makes them less popular in this side of the fandom. Otherwise, it'd be equally as popular on the other sides too. The Japanese side of fandoms is different from this one and tbh they often don't take into consideration things like cancel culture and proship discourse or the standard beauty regarding age because they just post whatever they want and scroll past what they don't like (god I fucking wish we were like that because I am so done with these things). Besides, isn't Buggy like a very beloved character over there, aside from Oda's favorite? At least from what I've seen, they take his character way more seriously than this side of the fandom does, honestly. And it bothers me because he's such a complex and great character, and people never see it because they use him either for memes or to keep saying "omggg turns out the clown is hot!! Can you believe I want to fuck a clow-" yes, Samantha, we know you want to fuck the clown. It's not weird. It's not new. Do you even like the character, at least, or you're just using him to say how kinky and quirky you are? (And I don't even care about the sexualization of characters because, again, fictional characters are fictional characters and you don't have to take everything so seriously. I have tons of characters I don't like that much but only stan because I find them hot and that's alright. But damn, it bothers me sometimes).

Anyway, with this, I wanna say that there are other things to have in mind when talking about this.

Recently (I know it's not exactly new but in fandom years? Recently) there has been a huge thing surrounding the term "old men yaoi". People are so down bad for middle-aged men and they see two of them together and they instantly go "omg they're soo married" but that's- That's it? That's just it. They don't even ship them, they just find the concept of older men hot because "omg he's such a dilf" and they want to fuck both of them. But they never end up doing anything with it. They try to be so groundbreaking like "ohh I am SO woke by shipping these two old men! See? Breaking stereotypes!" because both irl and online, age has always been a very stigmatized thing. Apparently you can't be in a fandom if you're older than 25 because then you're weird, and if there's an actress older than 50 she's instantly useless for the industry.

What I want to say with this is that most people in the fandom are young. They're young and they like attractive, young, hot people and they don't want old, unconventionally attractive men. They don't want them unless it's to give a "hot take" and to be super progressive and woke. Do you know what they like? They like Dilfs. They like Shanks because he's conventionally attractive and good with kids and he's the standard for a Dilf. Because he's hot and mysterious but also silly and quirky and "he's almost forty that is so hot something something daddy kink". And they don't want to see him fucking someone his age because God forbid this man has a personality outside being a Dilf. Younger people in the fandom constantly read y/n fics regarding Shanks because they want him to fuck them and not Buggy. And they can't project in these old men, so they publicly say "oh, Shanks and Buggy are so married" because it's just a fact the fandom made clear, but they don't really like the content. Because liking Buggy sexually, apparently, is just so weird. Or as a character. Nobody wants to say their favorite character is the failguy clown. It's a hot take when you say that Buggy is hot because people keep being all weird about it when... Uh... He's- He's just a clown. Guys. It's not weird. Or bad. Who raised you to think that? God, I find Monet extremely hot and she's half-bird. Could we please normalize these things? They're fictional characters. And also, stop reducing Buggy to his jokes or the fact that he's a clown because his character is GREAT and complex and it just bothers me so much.

This makes me think about this whole "background couple" thing. Which are basically couples that are canon or that are so popular and obvious that people, instead of making content for them (because why would you make content for a canon couple?) just place them in the background instead. There are so many fanfics in which Shuggy is a background couple. Or studies in which, instead of analyzing them, they're used only for parallelisms. This happens with, idk, Saboala? Frobin? Yamace? People don't like couples that everybody agrees on. They don't like m/f ships because they can't be woke!!!!! And queer!!!! (when they easily could but whatever). They don't like ships that everybody likes because!!!!!! They're canon already and why would you write about them???? And so, Shuggy stays a bit more as a side couple instead. For being old and unconventionally unattractive and not having much screentime, but being extremely popular. Not in a "content" way, but in a "knowledge" way. Even the general audience thinks their bond is crucial to the story, c'mon.

One of the differences that this side of the fandom has with the Japanese one, as I mentioned before, is the cancel culture and proship discourse thing. They just don't have that concept. And that's perfect, honestly, I wish we could just scroll past what we don't like too and live peacefully because the discourse is getting tiring. And also you have to admit that, because of the anti propaganda going around, now fandoms have turned into the most puritan thing in the world. Beware! Sex! Age difference between fictional characters that have a consensual and healthy and mature relationship! Oh! God forbid teenagers have sex with people their age! Ohmygodjustshutup. And so, Shuggy isn't a problematic ship. Not even close. But inside the OP world, people do say they are brothers. They keep talking about each other like that, too. And I don't even think it's the typical "we say they're like brothers so you don't think they're gay because they're both guys and guys can't kiss" (I am having flashbacks from the IT fandom). They do have the same parents. Like- We all agree Shanks and Buggy were both raised by Roger and Rayleigh and they consider them, if not their dads, parental figures at least. Right? And you're aware that doesn't make it incest, right? Both things can coexist. Foster families are a thing. Lots of people who grew up together and consider the same people their parental figures end up dating because they don't see each other as siblings. Well, most people don't see it this way and hear the word "brother" and run from it like it's a fucking virus. The Japanese side of the fandom doesn't give a fuck because they're fictional and because they're y'know, not brothers? And even if they were, cancel culture and proship discourse is so fucking stupid to them because they follow the "don't like don't look" thing. But on this side of the fandom, a lot of people see them as brothers and the other half sees them as a divorced couple and apparently nobody knows how to fucking read this manga and have a proper fandom experience without jumping to each other's throats at the minimum disagreement.

So, to summarize: People on this side of the fandom don't like Shuggy THAT much and it isn't such a popular ship in comparison to the Japanese side, because young people don't like older men together, they don't focus on unconventionally attractive characters, are afraid of any little possibility of cancelation, and also, well, Shuggy doesn't have much screentime anyway so there's not much we can do with that.

#oh shit this is long #and i think i got a bit carried away #but yeah i am surprised the ship isn't more famous tbh #also have in mind that people read the manga but a huge side of the fandom are anime only and chapter 1082 is quite important for shuggy #and please PLEASE if you start discourse right now for the proship/anti thing i am going to jump off a bridge do not do that it's dumb #i got a bit angry at the end i am sorry #one piece #shuggy

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effen-draws · 1 year

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HUGEEEEE fan of your de!swap fic! Just finished reading chapter 5 and WOW what a chapter. I'm soooo glad to see that suzerainty popped up, the original scene with that game is my favorite scene, and I'm overjoyed to see that it carried over to your fic!!

Curious question, what was your motivation behind choosing what skills Kim has? I love all the skills you created for the fic, and I'd like to know your thought process behind it

Thank you so much!!! I’m super glad that you liked the chapter! The Suzerainty scene was hella fun to write:-D And I’m very happy that you like the skills as well!

But, yes, the skills. Oh man, anon, the skills. You have opened up a can of worms here. You’ve given me an opportunity to rant here, anon. So I really hope you’re ready for a long post because I have plenty of thoughts, my friend.

But before we actually get into any of my skill related thought processes and ideas I’d like to preface this post with 2 things!

Many of the skills (and generally the early parts of the fic) are inspired by a hodgepodge of many different people’s headcanons and art here on tumblr! Which, because I’m one of god’s favourite clowns with a terrible short term memory, I have no idea what came from where! I looked at and read a lot of the things that later inspired me before I ever thought of writing the fic at all. And I never thought about writing any of my sources of inspiration down before I had already finished the draft of chapter 1! Which I kinda feel terrible about! The readers with a better memory than I might remember that I wrote in the first chapter that if anyone saw anything that looked familiar they should tell me so I could give proper credit. (Which I still implore any keen eyed reader to do!) So yeah, this is just to say; I’m not a genius who came up with all of this on my own and I was inspired by many cool people so don’t give me too much credit!

BUT! If anyone ever wants to write or draw anything using the skillset I’ve made for my version of swap!Kim, then you are so very welcome! So don’t sweat it if you want to reuse a name, concept, or the entire set! I’d just be happy to have inspired you:-]

Anyways sorry for the preamble. I just needed to get that said before I go down my rabbit hole:-)

So, let’s get to it! (For real this time I promise, anon) Here are a few of my general thoughts about my Kim skillset and some individual insight into more of the “interesting” skills!

There were a few things I considered when making the skills. For one I needed to figure out what skills were needed because of narrative necessity and what were needed for characterisation. For an example HANDS ON is almost only a “Kim is physically interacting with his surroundings and I need to describe that” skill while TORQUE DORK, on the other hand, is a fluff skill that’s there because of Kim’s interests in machinery. Besides their personalities the skills also need to serve a role in telling a story, y’know? Whether that be description or character. That’s also one of the reasons that Kim only has 16 skills instead of Harry’s 24. A fic is a different medium than a game so it’s not necessary to have quite so many skills. But, if you want my non-boring justification for that, I also just think that Kim is far less scattered brained than Harry! The man is simply more together even when he’s falling apart so he therefore has a few more “multi purpose skills”:-]

Speaking about Harry, I felt like it would be important that Kim’s skills felt unique to him even if some of them started out as reskins of Harry’s (I mean, how do you make a skill responsible for logic without giving it similarities to Harry’s LOGIC skill??). Not that they needed to stand out completely but rather I didn’t want to feel like I was applying Harry’s voices to Kim’s head. Which also means that Kim’s skills just can’t do the same things that Harry’s can! For one they aren’t as psychically inclined even if they can take guesses and read people in similar ways (which they’re partially that good at because of narrative necessity, but hey man, don’t look at me I’m just trying to tell a good story here!)

One thing which I also really wanted to stress with the skills too is that many of them have “rivalries” or “alliances” with one another. Some of them are complete opposites (EYES vs. OUTSIDER) while others will almost always back each other up (POISE & COMMAND). This animosity is there because; one, Kim is constantly trying to keep himself in check and is very harsh on himself so therefore no skill can ever “win” for long. Two; I’m a BIG fan of the thought of “Kim’s centrism is killing him”. So therefore every skill is almost always pulling him in different directions and opposing each other while Kim is trying to thread the needle of just existing. And because there’s this constant infighting Kim’s mind becomes a very hostile place to be. One last general consideration before I get into some individual skills! I really love how having a high level skill in DE also has its downsides! They have blindspots! They have one track thoughts and motivations! And it’s dangerous to only listen to one of them! So I attempted to show that with Kim’s high level skills like VOLTA DO MAR and POISE in the fic:-]

Anyways: individual skill thoughts! I don’t have something to say about all of them but I'll quickly go through my thoughts on some of the more interesting ones in order. (Also I’m so sorry for rambling so long, anon. Here's the part of the post I think you're interested in.)

Starting off with PUZZLEBOX and NOTEKEEPER! If I’m honest I think these two are inseparable; Note provides information and Puz connects the dots. They’re quite obviously Kim’s deductive and note taking powerhouses. Note does however also have a purpose as a narrative device since it’s the one that recalls past information (that Kim can remember). They’re a little like a narrator in that sense. Anyways I don’t have many thoughts about these two but I think they’re kinda cute in how “dumb” they can be despite being intellect skills:-]

FANTASME is not a skill that gets a lot of the limelight but they do have a good amount to say even though they’re a low level skill. They’re kind of a CONCEPTUALISATION and INLAND EMPIRE mix I guess. They’re focused on Kim’s “nerd” things (that isn’t machinery or paperwork) and escapism. They know about art but they don’t really “get it” as Harry can. They’re also the driving force behind Kim’s existential dread as you have seen in chapter 4.

BLEEDING HEART is what I labelled as the “feelings” skill, and they were kind of an EMPATHY clone in the early concepts before I really figured them out. Because all they really want for Kim is for him to feel. Their second priority is making sure that Kim feels for the people around him as well. To Bleed it doesn’t really matter what emotions Kim is feeling as long as they are being felt and that he isn’t hurting or “burdening” anyone. They’re sad, suppressed, and visceral. Another thing about them is that similarly to how ESPRIT DE CORPS is the “gateway skill” that Harry uses to read Kim, BLEEDING HEART is the “gateway skill” Kim uses to read Harry in the fic. This is mostly because I don’t think Harry can be understood through the lens of the RCM like Kim can in the game.

EYES is interesting to me. Because they aren’t the RCM but rather swap!Kim’s understanding of the RCM personified. Which both means they’re brutally honest about how the police sucks but that they also cannot let go of duty and loyalty for the life of them. They are aptly named after Eyes; Kim’s last main connection to the RCM and its office culture. Which is very cool but also not my original idea! And because of the reasons mentioned prior I really don’t remember who came up with that stroke of genius but I would honestly like to thank them personally. (If I ever get my hands on the post I saw it in I’ll link it here)

I love the idea of OUTSIDER. Kim having a skill that’s specifically manifested because of how alienated he feels is so interesting to me! That how much the world has failed him is ingrained in him just speaks volumes, y’know. Outs don’t have too much of a narrative purpose compared to other skills but I do love them regardless. They aren’t completely my original idea either, but unlike EYES, I have no idea where I got this one from. (Again, if I find the source I’ll put in a link, but for now my cursed memory can produce nothing.)

JOIE DE VIVRE is the most fun little guy in Kim’s mind to me. They are what makes life fun (as their name suggests) and they ultimately represent indulgence. They are essentially good to listen to occasionally but not constantly. Because Joie is all about base desires which they want fulfilled now. “Hey! Smoke that cigarette now! Hey! Fuck that guy now! Hey! Avoid your responsibilities now!” And if they don’t get that they will immediately trash talk whoever shut them down. And, to say the least, they are constantly being repressed by the other skills. Kim can’t get rid of them but, oh man, does he wish he could.

VOLTA DO MAR is my swap!Kim’s signature skill. And it shows: they are used to being in control. They are all about keeping Kim going and they generally serve a similar role like VOLITION does in terms of keeping Kim sane. But they are really nothing like VOLITION. They’re mean. They’re efficient. They’re a completionist and simultaneously a survivor. They will shut down anything they deem unnecessary while also dealing with any odd situation which Kim simply needs to roll with. Volt ultimately thinks they know best and is thusly kind of a dick.

NERVE is a kind of “physical skill all in one” with the added on flavour of repressed anger. NERVE’s name then, of course, both comes from the biological nerve and because of the “that struck a nerve” saying. They just want Kim to follow his gut and retaliate for once. They’re the physicality of anger and instinct. Which has pros and cons…

POISE is an interesting little fella to me. They’re kind of like a teen who’s obsessed with being cool and keeping up face and facade in my eyes:-) And since they’re also such a high level skill they get to talk a lot, and with their focus being reputation a large part of that talk is about how embarrassed Kim should be. They’re a personification of self consciousness and intrusive anxiety riddled thoughts and yet they’re also one of Kim’s most useful skills, both in regards to reading others and not being read himself. They’re sort of a necessary evil in that sense.

Oh man. That was a ramble. And I didn’t even talk about every skill. Well, I’m all tuckered out now but thank you so much for the ask, anon! I kinda took it as an excuse to just talk for once so I hope that alright:-]

I don’t know how many people (if any) will find this interesting so, to the people who got this far, I’ll tell you my swap!Kim’s 5 highest level skills as a token of my appreciation for reading:-) Number one is of course VOLTA DO MAR, followed by POISE, BLEEDING HEART, NOTEKEEPER, and then lastly COMMAND. Extra fun fact; EYES and OUTSIDER are always the exact same level and this makes them furious.

Anyways, thank you again for reading my fic and this long ass answer to an otherwise simple ask! I hope you have a great rest of your day:-]

#Long post #I don’t tag that lightly #this is like 2k words #but...#I think I deserved the rant #related to the rewind refind fic #anon ask #fic ask #disco elysium swap au #de swap au #de meta #kind of

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