#nothing romantic here its just shadow and his thoughts (sorta)

[one-way-dream]

BAS02 & Ashes

Rating: General

Words: 880+

Media: Sonic the Hedgehog, Shadow The Hedgehog (2005)

Characters: Shadow the Hedgehog, Maria Robotnik (Mentioned), Rouge the Bat (Mentioned), Sonic the Hedgehog (Mentioned), Black Doom (Mentioned)

Tags: Character Introspection, Second-Person POV, Experimental <- doesn't know what they're doing, Dark-Dark Route (Shadow the Hedgehog 2005), Conflicting Feelings, Guilt, Guy who is too far gone and maybe regrets it

Warnings: Canon-typical violence

Chapter: 1/1

Link to the original work

AO3 Summary/Except:

"Had Maria’s wish ever mattered to you? Or have you already fulfilled it that day you became one with the stars?"

-

Very messy and very experimental. I've never written anything this short and unpolished in my life. ❤️

The cold, dry, air of the fortress blasts against your face, almost as if it was burning, until the air becomes still. It’s stale against the tip of your nose and you think that sensation should’ve pulled a familiar chord in your heart as it once would have.

It’s a feeling akin to nostalgia that strikes you, one that you shut down immediately, but for those fleeting moments they reek of a spacecraft so desolate it could be mistaken for a moon; one that the girl in your dreams might have charted, believing it to be a star during your nights side by side, warmth and gentle lavender-vanilla radiating off of her.

But you’ve never been able to reciprocate heat the way humans do, because you were merely a leech – you’ve never been a warm body yourself.

Factory lights flicker overhead, the click of machine guns reloading in the distance, and the desperation of human beings hangs thickly in the air.

It's such a familiar scene.

But…

The loneliness has already rotted you to your core, and those feelings don’t mean anything to you anymore. All that matters is seeing it through to the end.

After all, this is pure.

This is vengeance in its entirety.

Green catches your eye before you notice that it was a soldier’s gaze – murky fear and hostility blend together until they cannot be pulled apart. It’s almost an amusing sight, but the word pathetic comes easier. That look is so painfully human, and you once thought you knew what it meant to be human; but you'd thought wrong, because with each passing second the idea of humanity for an ultimate weapon slips away, pooling at your feet in the form of bullet shells and smoke that clings to your vision.

It’s too much trouble to get rid of him, so instead you rip your gaze away from the man first when it starts to burn; because it’s too much to take, because there’s no time to waste, and maybe because you’re almost reminded of the time someone had once tried to teach you to love humans despite their flaws. But a weapon shouldn't be capable of that to begin with. It’s a hindrance and a flaw in what is meant to be flawless; a bug in your programming – the only thing left for you to do is patch it. Destroy it.

A voice suddenly reaches your ear amidst all the chaos of battle, realizing that someone is yelling at you, scalding, desperate as you feel the wind from their wings.

(You think you know who she is, but you tune it out anyways.)

It's too late for second chances, too late for half-baked truths. Not when you're already so far gone beyond the point of return. You feel a laugh escaping over your dry tongue, wondering why Sonic and the others even bother trying anymore.

The bitterness coils in your gut like a venomous snake, wrapping around like a ribbon and squeezing until you’re a breath away from a pained groan. It’s not real, you remind yourself, deliriously half-laughing under your breath, until the serpent strikes, and you find yourself tripping on your own two left feet.

But there's no time to hesitate. Not when you're so close. Not when you're at the final frontier of humanity – a pathetic excuse for a shelter meant to give an inkling of hope to the last soldiers.

All it'll take is one shot to end it all. It has to be swift, though you're unsure if it should be painless. For whatever reason, bile nearly rises to your mouth with a choked hiccup at the thought of making those worthless humans suffer any longer than they already have.

As soon as that thought crosses your mind however, a heavy sigh leaves your lips as you skip to a stop in front of the last gun turret.

Yet another defect found in your system. What a pain.

(It can't be afforded.)

You have no goal but to be perfect, after all. Perfect carnage. Perfect destruction. Perfect revenge. That’s what you were made for, and you have a debt to repay with your life.

‘A life for a life’, as Black Doom had once said – but you still have yet to ask him what exactly he means.

It’s unknown whether everything will go out with a bang or a whimper; should everything bleed into nothingness until everything is still and stale, like the air on the ARK, and it still won’t matter.

Had Maria’s wish ever mattered to you? Or have you already fulfilled it that day you became one with the stars?

Was pretending to misremember her words and her feelings the easy way out? Or was it just the most sensible?

Sometimes your mind, or whatever is left of it, wanders - the little doubt you have left festers in the back in your brain like poison as you wonder if any of these thoughts are even your own, or if perhaps, Black Doom dug his claws into your spines at some point, like the puppet you were always meant to be.

But you are and always were a tool; regardless of whether these thoughts were your own or not, you are a means to an end. A means to humanity's end. 

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Crush | Karl Jacobs

Requested? Certainly by me

Warnings? Nope

Summary: You and Karl admit your feelings for each other under the night sky

Word Count: 1,432

This was not how you wanted to spend another Friday night.

For what felt like the millionth Friday in a row, you were spending it at home doing absolutely nothing. You had decided to put on endless episodes of Say Yes to the Dress and stuff your face full of food until you ultimately fell asleep on the couch.

“Girl!! Stop listening to your family that dress is gorgeous!!” you yell, throwing a piece of popcorn at the TV screen.

As you sit and watch another girl happily pick another dress and cry into her family’s arms, you pick up your phone. Your brain subconsciously finds its way to associate Karl with anything you're doing once more. You scroll through your notifications before ending up in yours and Karl’s text messages.

“Yeah okay,”

Was the last sarcastic text Karl had graced you with. You end up scrolling through your conversation, an unknowing smile growing on your lips as you look through the texts between you and the boy you had the biggest crush on possible. You reach a point where the texts become too much, too much of you wanting Karl by your side instead of just living in your phone and you throw the device down next to you.

You reach for the remote, knowing if another episode of Say Yes to the Dress plays you’ll go insane and start to flip through the channels. Endless reruns of 90’s shows pop up, and you’re left to flip through the movie selections when one catches your eye.

You click on A Cinderella Story, one of yours and your best friends favorites as middle schoolers, and let the intro play on your big screen. The movie starts to play out and you reach for your phone once more. You don’t realize what you’re doing until the text sends, and a realization passes over you. You had just late-night texted your crush and close friend, and now you had to wait.

It felt like hours had gone by since you had texted Karl with no chance of a response. You sunk straight into your couch cushions, giving up on the idea entirely. After a Cinderella Story had played, one romance movie after another was playing and you had fallen in.

It was a bad habit when romance movies ended up on your screen. You always ended up with food half in your mouth, sitting in an uncomfortable position to anyone else, and yelling at the screen. Your heart simultaneously breaking and melting because how could someone not fall for all of that gooey romantic stuff? And yet, you were all alone.

As the second movie shuts off, you flop back onto the couch, your thoughts filled with Karl and all things about your best friend and longtime crush. However, your thoughts start to mix up and you can’t help the image of a chapel overlooking the ocean to fill your mind, you and Karl standing before it.

You shake the image from your head, audibly telling yourself to get a grip before you make another dumb move. You get up out of bed, pacing your room for a moment as you try and shake your feelings and thoughts free of Karl.

You swore he was going to be the death of you. The shaggy-haired brunette who was all smiles and loud giggles had stolen his way into your heart so fast you could barely blink before it all happened. His affinity for physical touch made everything worse, knowing how easily you fell under his spell whenever he was around.

Just as you’re about to plop back down on your bed you hear something smack against your window. Your stop in your tracks, your head turning slowly as you wait for the sound to repeat. Once it does, you carefully head over to your window, pulling up the blinds and leaning as close as possible to lookout.

Just as you look around, you hear the noise and realize someone is throwing rocks at your window. Like, old school, in the movies, two stories beneath, throwing rocks at your window to get your attention.

You pull your window open, ducking your head out to see who it is and your best friend grins widely up at you. Your heart does a backflip, and you decide right on the spot that this is easily the most romantic thing someone has ever done and you’re not even dating him.

“What are you doing?” you shout whisper.

“Come down here,” he yells up.

“No, come up here!” you tell him and you’re both giggling loudly as you talk.

“Come down here!” he shouts doubling over as he laughs. “I have a surprise.”

You laugh loudly, nodding and telling him that you’ll be down in a minute. You change into something cute but comfortable before grabbing your phone and wallet. You race downstairs and out the front door. You whip around trying to find Karl when a pair of arms wrap around your waist making you shriek in surprise.

“K-Karl!!” you yell out as he spins you around.

“Surprise!” he yells and you wrap your arms around his neck as he sets you down.

“You’re the surprise?” you ask grinning and half giggling.

“Sorta. Come on,” he says now grabbing your hands and pulling you towards his car.

The two of you get in and Karl heads out without a word. You knew no matter where you were headed, you were fine with whatever. The two of you talk about whatever comes to mind, you telling him about the riveting season of Say Yes to the Dress you had just binge-watched, and Karl giggles loudly next to you.

Somehow throughout the drive, Karl’s hand finds its way to yours, intertwining like you’ve been doing this for years. He squeezes it lightly whenever he ends up giggling, no doubt one of the most endearing things you’ve noticed about the older boy.

Finally, after what feels like thirty years of driving, Karl parks in what looks like an abandoned park. You offer him a confused look but he simply drags you out of the car with a mischievous smile placed on his lips. You’re about to ask him what he’s up to and what you’re doing there in the practical middle of the night when you see it.

“Holy-” you breathe out.

Beyond the abandoned park was a field of wildflowers, flowing lightly in the breeze. The night backdrop falls behind them, a shadow of darkness bringing out the beauty of the flowers. As the wind flows through and you focus on the nature around you you don’t realize Karl moving closer to you.

He lifts one hand up, extending a finger to touch your chin, and pushes your head backward slightly. Your eyes follow upwards and when they land on the stars above you you gasp quietly. You don’t notice the grin that spreads on Karl’s lips when he sees your smile, knowing your endless love for the constellations that littered the night sky.

“C’mere,” he says and pulls you over to his car.

He helps you up on the hood and the two of you lay side by side, arms down to legs attached as you gaze over the numerous stars offering beauty to the world. You extend a hand upwards, tracing a constellation as your heart beats erratically.

“Orion’s belt,” you tell him and Karl reaches up too, linking your pinkies as you trace the constellation once more.

When your hands fall, Karl pulls your hand over to him, effectively tugging you closer. You turn to face him, your right hand coming up to carefully push through his bangs. Your eyes trail his hair as you mess with his curls, wrapping a piece around your finger before letting it fall.

“Hey,” Karl says, pulling your eyes to him.

He reaches up, resting his hand on your cheek and you feel every inch of his skin on yours, the heartbeat of his fingertips as they pound against your cheeks, matching your nervous blush. He leans up, pressing his lips to yours and you meet his kiss, slipping your hand to his cheek and falling further into his touch.

You fall in perfect sync practically down to your heart beats and when you pull away, Karl keeps you close. A smile is evident on his gorgeous features. He pulls you in, pressing his face into your neck and you feel the light giggle that slips out of his mouth, both of you feeling the love and contentment in each other’s arms.

[the-ferocious-kittyrose]

What I would’ve done w/ Lotor’s character

It’s not exactly a secret to anyone who’s been following me for a while that I’m not the biggest fan of canon Lotor. I had high hopes for the character from his 80s counterpart and intro in season 3 but I was really let down by the direction the writers went with him in canon.

When he was introduced, I was so hoping for him to be this cocky manipulative asshole that’s only out for himself. I love that character archetype so goddamn much.

But in canon he was just kinda boring to me. His personality was bland and his motivations never really made sense. He’s introduced using empty promises of peace and comradery to manipulate people, then its revealed that he actually does want peace and comradery and wants to lead a peaceful empire, then that turns into draining Alteans and wanting to kill all Galra...

I also didn’t like how the writers decide to tack on this whole child abuse plot to explain why he was the way he was. As if that’s the only way to make a villain sympathetic. Yeah other versions of Voltron have touched on Lotor’s childhood before and it was never pleasant, but VLD really leaned into that shit, to the point where it felt like the writers were just shoving angst down our throats thinking that equals good writing.

It takes more than a tragic backstory to make a character compelling. It takes an interesting personally and motivations that make sense. And you can make a character tragic/sympathetic in more subtle ways.

For me personally, I wanted Lotor to be a sorta fusion of Loki and Littlefinger in space.

Loki is a sly trickster who grew up feeling like an outcast, unaware of his true heritage. He grew up believing he could be king but when his shity father handed it to his perfect brother he felt he had been robbed and decided to take the throne by force.

Littlefinger is a small man from a small house with no power, and after getting the shit beat out of him trying to win the hand of the girl he loved, he decided he would use his intelligence and skills in manipulation to screw over all these noble lords and weasel his way into the throne. And when he did he would finally get vengeance on all those who had looked down on him.

I feel like this fits Lotor well. Lotor is a prince, so he isn’t small in that regard, but he is not respected in the way a prince should be.

He is a lot smaller than the average Galra. And even though Lotor is still quite strong, developing a fighting style that suits his small form and uses his opponents size against them, in a society so heavily based on physical strength that’s still a big blow to your rep.

He employs half breeds, which we know are looked down on in the empire. And there are definitely rumors about Lotor himself being a half breed. I think after 10,000 years Zarkon would’ve done a pretty good job at hiding Lotor’s heritage from the public but just looking at him compared to the average Galra there’s going to be some suspicion there. On that note Lotor is probably considered butt ugly by the Galra.

And Lotor works in the shadows and achieves his goals through lies and trickery, which Lotor himself says are things the empire looks down on.

So yeah, the people in the empire hate Lotor. Even Sendak who’s all ‘Gung ho empire’ has no respect for Lotor. And because of this it would probably be up in the air whether or not Lotor would even be allowed to take the throne if his father were to pass, even though it’s his birthright.

And in the face of all this rampant disrespect, Lotor decides that he is going to overthrow his father and take the throne. And when he does he will take vengeance on everyone who had ever undermined him and expand the empire beyond anything his father could’ve dreamed of.

And don’t try telling me, “oh that’s so out of character! Lotor would never take pleasure in the pain of others!” Because he does.

Remember Throk? Remember how Lotor sent him away to the worst station in the empire and joked about letting him, “rot with the ice worms?” Remember how Lotor later invaded his station then watched with a grin as he was tortured by Haggar?

Lotor 100% takes pleasure in hurting those who would hurt him, because it makes him feel powerful.

Now let’s talk about Lotor’s planet. The one given to him and destroyed by Zarkon. I always felt weird about this plot. Obviously it’s a very sad thing to have happen, but I always liked the idea of Lotor’s promises of peace to be empty, a means of manipulating people. So this whole situation being genuine feels weird to me.

In my version, Lotor didn’t get banished for being too kind. He got banished because Zarkon caught him in a plot to betray him.

When Lotor was put in charge of the planet, he seduced and married the princess Ventar. He filled her head with promises that her people would be free and they would rule the universe together and convinced her to secretly round up her armies and send word to her ally planets to do the same, so they could start planning a way to overthrow Zarkon.

It’s left ambiguous whether or not he was being genuine and whether he really loved Ventar and intended to keep his promises to her or if she was just a tool to get the throne. But either way, it ends the same. Zarkon finds out, destroys the planet, kills Ventar, and exiles Lotor.

Still sad/humiliating thing for Lotor, and definitely a story that could gain sympathy from Allura.

Speaking of Allura and Ventar, let’s talk about Lotor’s relationship with the women in his life.

(Trigger Warning: Brief mention of of a rape scene in GoLion)

In the 80s Lotor was incredibly misogynistic. He walked around with a harem of half naked women, tried repeatedly to kidnap and marry Allura against her will, and in GoLion it’s heavily implied that he raped Romelle because she looked like Allura.

It’s a common joke in the fandom that he went from this to drinking respect women juice in VLD but I don’t know if I’d go that far.

He’s definitely better in VLD than he was in the 80s, but even in VLD he manipulates, uses, and hurts most of the women in his life.

Allura is the obvious example, but you also have his generals. Acxa talks to the paladins, Allura in particular, about how persuasive Lotor could be. Implying that she and the other general were manipulated the same way Allura was.

Well not EXACTLY the same way Allura was, romantically I mean. Though there are people who believe that Acxa was also in love with Lotor and he used that to his advantage, which I can see.

But I feel like it was more about giving them a place in an empire that didn’t care about or accept them.

I hate The Last Jedi but I really feel like the line, “you’re nothing, but not to me,” fits really well. They were outsiders with no place to go until Lotor swooped in and gave them a purpose.

Do I think that there was a part of Lotor that genuinely wanted to help them because he saw a kindred spirit in them? Yeah. But I also think that at the end of the day, they were more tools than real friends. And he had no qualms about killing them if they betrayed him.

The situation with Narti proves that. As well as the fact that Ezor and Zethrid seemed very scared of the prospect of Lotor being alive and coming for them.

And then you have Allura. Lotor’s lust for Allura has always been a very important part of his character. In the 80s the reason behind his obsession with her was that he had a lot of baggage about his mother and had a thing for women that looked like her. Also the fact that he just didn’t like not getting something he wanted.

There was never any love. He didn’t want to be with her, he wanted to own her.

In VLD, his want for Allura seems to stem more from the fact that she’s Altean than an Oedipus complex. As well as the fact that she’s powerful and skilled in Altean alchemy, which makes her rather useful.

I don’t personally believe that Lotor ever really Loved Allura. I think he liked the idea of her and what she could do for him, but the end of the day she was more a means to an end than anything else.

Allura’s been trough a lot. Zarkon betrayed her family and destroyed her entire planet only about a year ago from her point of view, and she appears to have a pretty bad case of survivors guilt and PTSD. And to make matters worse, while Lotor was on the ship she was fighting with Shiro, someone she clearly cared about. The idea of loosing him after already losing so much must’ve been really painful.

She was hurting, conflicted, and lonely. Which made her all the more vulnerable to Lotor’s manipulation.

He took advantage of her loneliness and insecurities, making her believe she had found someone who understood her and could help her avenge her family and planet. She trusted him, let herself be vulnerable around him, which made it hurt even more when it was revealed to all be a ruse.

And then you have his relationship with his mother Honerva/Haggar.

I talked a lot about this in my whole rewrite/rant about Honerva, but I’m not a fan of how they made their relationship 100% negative. I feel like it robs the show of a lot of interesting character interaction.

It’s sad. The whole relationship is really tragic. Shit like this is literally my worst nightmare. The thought of looking my mom in the face and have her not recognize me as her daughter keeps me up at night.

But the thing is, in canon the relationship kinda falls flat because Lotor and Haggar/Honerva have no connection. Haggar was awful to Lotor and Lotor hates Haggar. What reason do I have to be invested in their relationship?

So If you haven’t read my Honerva rant, here’s how I would’ve done the Honerva Lotor relationship.

10,000 years ago, when Alfor came to Dibazzal to convince Zarkon to close the rift, Honerva went into labor. Alfor and many Galran doctors tried there best to save her and the baby, but the quintessence had damaged her body so much that she couldn’t be saved and died in childbirth.

Zarkon went ballistic and Alfor had the doctors take baby Lotor somewhere safe, fearing Zarkon would take his grief and anger out on the child.

After Honerva was resurrected as Haggar and throughout Lotor’s childhood, they had a strange sort of relationship. Lotor was an inquisitive child and was always curious about Haggar and her work, making a habit of following her around like a little shadow and watching as she worked. And there was also the fact that, while his father was never friendly, he was calmer when she was around.

Haggar had no idea what to make of this weird child following her around all the time. All these big strong Galra were terrified of her but this tiny child showed no fear as he tugged on her robes and excitedly asked questions about her work. And she never minded. She didn’t know why or how to explain it, but she cared for the child. As much as a soulless undead witch could care for something anyway.

But as time went on there relationship became more and more strained. Lotor was a smart kid he was gonna find out about his mother and deduce what happened to her.

He resented Haggar. Resented her for not remembering him. Resented her for the fact that he had to go through life without a mother while she was right there. And he resented her for being loyal to Zarkon, who had been making his life hell for thousands of years.

Every time she showed him something resembling kindness he’s conflicted. He knows he should feel happy that she cares, but at the same time, why does she care? It’s not like she sees him as her son.

He turned to denial, insisting that Haggar couldn’t possibly be his mother, even though he new the truth deep down, and a part of him always secretly longed for her to remember who she was, who he was, and embrace him as her son. He hates that part of himself.

And when he does meet Honerva for the first time, it’s... tense... to say the least. Having his mother reach out to him and acknowledge him as her son is something he thought would bring him joy, but in that moment all the pain he went through rises back to the surface and he lashes out. He draws his sword and is about to cut her down but he hesitates. He’s trembling with tears in his eyes. He can’t forgive her, but he also can’t bring himself to kill her.

Then you have his relationship with his father.

It’s no secret that Zarkon is an awful man and a shity father, always has been.

The explanation as to why is kinda shaky. All we get is Zarkon saying Lotor is his greatest shame because he’s Altean but I don’t know about that. Zarkon may hate Alteans but he loved Honerva and I don’t think he would be ashamed of his relationship with her.

He definitely did his best Lotor’s heritage from the public. But I don’t think that’s the reason he hates him.

In my version of the story, Zarkon hates Lotor because Honerva died giving birth to him and Zarkon blames him for her death. He lost his beloved wife and was forced to watch the son that killed her waltz around wearing her face.

It didn’t help that Lotor was a snarky rebellious kid that liked to show off. He did things his own way, didn’t care much for rules, and had a real knack for finding loopholes. All things that made his strict father very angry. He was an embarrassment. Small and rebellious. That’s why Zarkon began training Sendak.

I personally believe the reason Zarkon was so trusting of Sendak and had so much faith in him was because Zarkon had been grooming him to be his “true heir.” Sendak is the epitome of what a Galra should be. Strong, loyal, and brave. He would be the son Zarkon wished he had. The favorite child.

Lotor obviously hates Zarkon, and rightfully so. Zarkon hates him for something he had no control over and constantly disrespects him.

Lotor may not follow the rules, but he passes every trial. He excels at everything he does but Zarkon refuses to see that all because he blames him for Honerva’s death.

Lotor sees Zarkon as an old fool. He knows that he could do a far better job at running the empire.

Lotor dedicated thousands of years of his life to overthrowing Zarkon. His hatred for his father was his motivation, what got him out of bed every morning, so when the deed is done and Zarkon was finally defeated, in the moments after he felt empty.

But he didn’t have time to dwell on that feeling for long. He still had to deal with his father’s men and take the throne that was rightfully his.

Then you have his plan.

Lotor’s plan in VLD is really weird and over complicated. There was no real reason for the whole draining Alteans thing. Just a lazy way of making him 100% evil.

The plot could’ve been a lot simpler. He gains the paladins trust, gets them to help him build his ships and overthrow Zarkon, and then once he has the throne he pulls an Uno reverse card and is like, “yeah, nothing personal but this was all a trick and imma lock you and your lions up now.”

Obviously more complicated than that but that’s the basic idea.

One of my main problems with VLD is that they had a bad habit of over complicating the plot. People don’t care about VLD because of the plot, they care about the characters and their relationships, the actual plot doesn’t have to be anything spectacular.

It’s strange to say but I feel like the writes tried too hard with Lotor. He had the potential to be an amazing villain but the writers were too focused on tricking the audience and making him angsty that they forgot to make him compelling.

[yolo1650]

Animal Crossing One Shot- Ten Star Rating (BobxReader)

Summary: Getting that perfect island turns out to be a lot harder than it looks.

Word Count: 1498

Warnings: No warnings here, it’s basically rated G, just two cute people, being cute together

——————————————————————————

Feeling nothing but a heavy sense of defeat, you closed the doors of the Resident Service building behind you. With the sun still high in the sky, there was still many hours of daylight left, precious hours that could be spend planting, refurnishing, terra-forming.  

But all you could feel was the aching in your legs, clearly overworked by all the running around you did this morning. They couldn’t help but buckle beneath you. Giving in, you sat down at the center of the plaza, face in your palms, as you remembered Isabelle's advice.  

"Let's get more greenery on this island by planting fruit and saplings. When it comes to tree varieties, we should really branch out!"

Your jaw clenched. While Isabelle's corny joke came from a kind-hearted place, it did nothing to cheer you up from your predicament.  

Last time it was too many trees, and too little flowers. Now that I've spent the whole morning planting more flowers, you're telling me there's not enough trees?

At this rate, you many never get your island to a five star rating.  

Then, you heard someone yelling, their voice getting louder as they got closer to you.  

"Heeeeeeeyyyyyyyy!"

You felt Bob's shadow cast over you, giving you momentary relief from the afternoon sun.  

"Hey Bob."

His shadow moved, and with it, his footsteps as its pattering sounds circled around you. Even with your eyes covered, you could still vividly see Bob's wide, carefree smile, and his arms outstretched like an airplane.  

"The island looks great today! On my way here I stopped like, five times to smell all of the pretty flowers! Or was it more like three times? I kind of stopped counting after two, pthhpth."

Taking your face out of your hands, you leaned your cheek against one of your palms and did nothing to mask your exhaustion and disappointment.  

"Still not good enough to get a good island rating though."

Bob stilled. Taking quick glances between you and the Resident Service building, he began to understand.  

"Oh."

After taking a seat next to you, you look over to his uncharacteristically somber face.  

"I'm sorry to hear that."

Great now you messed up his groove. One of the happiest, most carefree villager is sulking because of you. Maybe it was better if you just got up and left, you should have never left your house in the first place.  

But Bob beat you to it. Standing up with what seems to be renewed energy, he ran back to his house. You didn't have to wait long before hearing your name being shouted in the distance, its volume gradually increasing.  When Bob came back his typical ear-to-ear smile was as well. He was also holding onto a medium sized canvas. With outstretched arms, he presented it exclaiming,

"Here! I gotta lil' something for ya!"

After getting up and dusting off your pants, you took the unexpected gift from his hands. Your eyebrows were raised high in astonishment. Pleased at your reaction, Bob shyly looked away while rubbing the back of his neck.  

"But it's probably nothing compared to what you've done for the island so far."

As you examined the painting you weren't sure how to feel about it at first. Anyone back at your hometown would recognize immediately that this gift was clearly not your style. While you preferred romantic style oil paintings, the piece before you had to be best described as the work of a child. Abstract and sloppy, no distinct line art, and distinct brush strokes. That last part was the most peculiar to you. Did he use cotton balls to paint this?

You took a step back and looked at the piece again as a whole. Once you did, you felt a smile creep up on your face. This painting was clearly made with you in mind, as not only were you the subject, but you were surrounded by all of the things you loved on this island. The foreground was adorned with your favorite flowers, the background was the island's serene coast, and you were wearing your favorite outfit.

The colors were the most impressive, in your opinion. They were so spot on that just looking at it alone made you feel like you were right there, hearing the crashing waves. He even got your eye color at just the right shade, and remembered to add your dimples to your smile.  

You found it difficult to contain your excitement.  

"Wow! Bob, this is amazing! And you painted it? I didn't know you liked to paint!"

"Hmmm? Oh yeah, I like to do all sorts of drawing." Lost in thought, he started leaning back and forth between the balls of his feet and his heels. "But I especially looooooove finger painting! It's like ya got super powers 'cause everything you touch changes color!"

You chuckled. Paw prints, that explained the strange brush strokes.  

"How'd you know my favorite spot on the island was the beach?" You asked.

Bob simply shrugged as he replied, "You're just there so often, I sorta figured it was like, your natural habitat or something, pthhpth."

"What about my clothes?"

He looked away briefly before clearing his throat to answer. "I, uh, always thought you looked the prettiest when you wore those." He couldn't help but blush a little. "Just 'cause you always smiled more when you wore those."  

You then felt your own face heat up.  

"A-and what about the flowers? How'd you know these were my favorite?"

"Oh, those? You were always buying those from Lief every time he comes over." His eyes glanced up in thought as he continued.  

"At first I was thinking what made these flowers so special? You already had so many different flowers in your own garden. So then I bought a pot of my own, and boy do they smell deeelicious! They reminded me so much of you so of course I had to put it here, pthhpth!"

You tried to give a polite smile to match Bob's beaming face. But you weren't too sure how to take that compliment, if it even was one. Was he saying you were like a snack? Does he snack on flowers?

You decided not to dwell on it too much.  

Now when you looked back at the painting, it was as if it completely transformed before your eyes during the short length of your conversation with Bob. What was once sloppy, thick brush strokes were now intentional, and authentic. What was once meaningless shapes of abstraction have now turned into a thoughtful presentation of who you were in the mind of Bob.  

It was all so touching, you might have started tearing up a little.  

You tightly wrapped your arms around Bob.  

"Thank you. You have no idea how much I needed this right now."

He eagerly hugged you back.  

"Like I said, it's nothing." His lips curled into a bashful smile.  

Releasing each other from your embrace, you were surprised to see that somber expression return to his face. His brows furrowed in frustration.  

"I don't know who's judging these islands, but if I were them, I'd give you a ten star rating just because you worked so hard on it!"

You didn't have the heart to tell him that island ratings only went up to five.  

Bob continued on. Pride and determination lighting his eyes as he placed his paws on his hips.  

"I might even throw in a prize, like a day off, or a life-time supply of brownies!" A nervous chuckle bubbled out of him as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, actually, that last part might be more of a prize for me than for you."

Now that he mentions it, you really do deserve a day-off, heck, maybe even a week-off. You put so much work into this island, it was only natural that you needed a break to regain your strength. Then, you'll be sure to get that five star rating!

You grabbed Bob's paw and headed towards the direction to your house.  

"It's been a while since we hanged out, huh? Well then let's go to my place for lunch," you said.  

"Really?!" Now it was Bob's turn to look surprised. Free food always got him excited.  

"Yeah!" You smiled. "Think of it as thanks for the painting."

"Sounds great!" Bob had already skipped on ahead of you, his face radiant. "Race ya!"

"Wait, Bob! My legs are still killing me from this morning, can you-"

Too late. With arms outstretched, Bob zig-zagged his way towards your house, already leagues ahead of you. For a guy who was always hungry, he sure did have boundless amounts of energy.  

You shook your head to yourself and smiled. Taking one last look at your painting before trudging along, you were already thinking of how to best frame it. You loved how brilliant it looked in the natural light. A nice spot by the window would be perfect.  

——————————————————————————

This was requested by @teagibs I hope you like it! Sorry it took so long :’-)

Please bear in mind that I’m still in school, so if anyone else has made a request, or would like to request something, it might be a while. I will also be doing requests in the order they come in. 

On another note, this was a lot of fun! Bob is one of my favorites, so I hope I did him justice. I currently have another one shot in the works (not a request), and ya’ll better brace yourself, cause it’s gonna be a dooozy...

Let me know what you guys think, constructive criticism is especially welcome here :D

-(･ω･)v

[infallicide]

tw incest, noncon?

Touya diddling Rei in the psych ward. They think she's getting worse cause she keeps telling them her dead son is sneaking in and touching her while everybody's asleep. 😌

You have most beautiful ideas I’m- 

Relationship: Rei x Touya Tags: Incest, dubcon, mommy kink, gaslighting (sorta), attempted breastfeeding, manipulation.

“Touya was here again.” 

It’s barely a breath on her lips, but the two doctors nearby mutter under their breath. Something about symptoms worsening, upping doses, trying new drugs. But she just shakes her head as she sits up.

“No, he was here! I saw him! He was right here beside me in bed! He brought me those!” She points at the vase beside her bed, an unbreakable one she’d been promised, but the doctor, some new one she doesn’t recognise, shakes his head right back at her as he sits on the edge of her bed.

“Rei, Shoto brought you those the other day.”

She shakes her head again; no, no, Touya was here, she knows, she remembers every word, every touch, everything. 

“What did he do this time, Rei?” the other doctor speaks.

She ignores the look exchanged between the two.

“He…” she all but chokes on her words, “he laid beside me, he held me, touched me…but he looks different now. He’s tall and his hair is different. He’s a man now.”

They leave her again with the promise of a change of medication in the coming weeks. The prickle of anger under her skin makes her twitch, and it takes everything in her not to throw the vase across the room. Not that it would make a difference; she’d just ruin her flowers. For a while, she ponders it - had Shoto brought the flowers? Had she imagined Touya? She thinks back to last night and the weight of him beside her is so clear. No. It can’t be her mind. No. He was here.

By nightfall, she’s pacing the room. Her body is screaming at her to rest but her mind begs her to wait a little longer. If she’s out of bed, she can be sure he wasn’t a dream. But night creeps on. The shadows get longer and the moon brighter. She sits in the middle of the floor with tear stained cheeks and shaking hands, certain now she is being teased by the universe. In all her time here, she’s missed her children. But she missed him more than the others. 

If he’s some hallucination, she thinks, at least he doesn’t have to see me this way.

The door clicks behind her, and she waits for the doctor to say her name. But instead…

“Hi, Mom.”

Black boots come to view, and as he squats in front of her, that filthy white t-shirt takes up her vision. 

“Touya,” her eyes brim again with tears, “let me wash your shirt.” 

“Not now, mom. Why are you on the floor?”

“I was waiting,” she lets out a gasping sob as she reaches for him, “for you.”

He lets her bundle him into her arms as if she doesn’t have to look up at him when they stand side by side, as if he’s still that tiny boy in her memory. He sets his head on her lap with his nose against her tummy and she just strokes his hair, over and over. She doesn’t hate how he looks now. The purple skin worried her at first, the staples even more so, but he’s still her beautiful little boy.

“Hmm?” he asks.

“What’s that, dear?”

“Did you call me...beautiful?” he wraps his arms around her middle and hides his face against her shirt.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to say it out loud. But you are, Touya. You’re my beautiful little boy.”

Her shirt shifts, and the cold tip of his nose presses against the soft skin of her stomach.

“I’m your little boy?”

“Always, Touya.”

“Then,” he nuzzles closer, his voice low, dark, rasping, “please feed me.”

His hand reaches up, though his face doesn’t leave its comfortable spot, and awkwardly, he undoes her shirt until she’s bare before him, with only a bra separating him from his meal.

“T-Touya, stop, just-”

“You said I’m your little boy.”

“Yes, but-”

“Did you mean it?”

“...”

“Did you?”

“Of course.”

“Then, let me taste, mommy.”

Rough hands - so much bigger and stronger than the pudgy little ones she remembers - shove the cups of her bra down, and before she can attempt to protest again, he latches onto a nipple and her head falls back. He suckles and nips and licks at one until she whines, then he swaps to the other. The angle sends pangs of pain through his joints. He rearranges until he’s straddling her thigh, and she holds herself up with her hands splayed against the floor behind her. He latches onto her nipple again, but this time, his hips rut weakly against her thigh at the same time. He’s so hard under his trousers and Rei can’t stand it; her poor boy must be aching. 

“Touya.”

He looks up through fluffy lashes, and for a flash of a moment, she sees Enji’s eyes in his vibrant blue, but she takes his face between her palms. 

“Touya, my lovely boy,” she kisses his forehead, “you can’t feed like this.”

He offers her a moment of charge when she leads him to the bed. She sits again with her back to the wall, and he tries to mount her thighs but she pats beside her.

“Lie down,” he does so, much the same as the way he had done when he arrived, but this time, she cradles his head tenderly, as if he could disappear if she was too careless, and with her other hand, she reaches down between his legs.

“You’re so hard, baby,” it doesn’t sound romantic when she says it, no, it sounds like she’s talking to a child. And he whines at it.

“Yeah,” he says, breathlessly as he latches on again, “help me, Mommy.”

How could she deny her little boy like that?

“Just this once.”

She’s so gentle with him when she pushes his pants down, his underwear too. For that split second, he feels like she could take over. She grasps his hard cock so carefully, much too carefully.

“Don’t be so gentle,” he ruts up into her hand.

“If I’m not-”

“Then it won’t go away. You don’t want me to stay this hard, do you, Mommy?” he pouts and licks at her chest again. She offers a shuddering breath. 

“Promise you’ll stay.”

“Always, Mommy.”

She grips him harder and he gasps against her skin as he wraps his arms around her waist as well as he can.

“Yes, like that,” he whines again and he thrusts into her hand as he suckles.

“My lovely boy, my beautiful boy, I missed you so much,” her tears patter across his cheek and he looks up to see another fall.

“M’here now, mom.” 

“Stay here,” she whispers.

“As long as I can,” he wraps a hand around hers and helps her pace, swipes his thumb over the tip and groans against her until her nipple is left neglected so he can press a cheek to her sternum.

“Feels so good, mommy,” he moves their hands faster.

“Is it enough, baby?”

Her voice is still so innocent, so sweet.

“N-no,” he stutters and pulls their hands off of him, “and I can’t reach properly from here. Can I…” he trails, searching for the word. 

But she misunderstands.

“You can ask me for anything,Touya. Anything at all.”

“Let me touch you like dad did,” he turns them both until her back is against the bed and without waiting for a word, he shoves her pyjama bottoms down, “I can do it better, mommy, I swear.”

He holds a hand over her mouth when he shoves his cock into her without a second thought. Her whine tickles his palm. He leans down again, latches onto her nipple as he thrusts. They’re lazy movements, a moment of kindness to let her adjust, but when her whines turn to soft sighs, his hand leaves her mouth. With each of her soft thighs in his grip, he fucks her. His lips don’t leave her chest, not until he gets close. It’s embarrassingly fast, he knows that, but he didn’t think mommy would feel so good. His jaw goes slack and his cheek presses to her breast again as he gets closer with soft prayers of “mommy, mommy, mommy”. 

“That’s my boy, that’s my beautiful boy.”

“Wan’ another brother,” he murmurs between chants, “M’gonna make him, you don’t need dad, you just need me.”

She strokes his hair as he rambles against her sternum.

“M’gonna make so many, I’ll do better than him, m’gonna treat you better, mommy,” his thrusts get sloppier and he doesn’t try to please her. No, he just keeps fucking into her, until desperation has him sobbing “Mommy!” against her chest as he floods her womb with cum. He stays still after he cums, until he goes soft inside her. She strokes his hair as he catches his breath, and it soothes her to sleep with the weight of him on her. It’s bliss. And it’s proof.

The doctors wake her at their usual time, and she sits up, victorious.

“I told you he was here! I told you he was alive!” she whips the covers back, ready to bare all.

“Rei-”

“No, look, I’m…” she looks down at herself. 

At her pyjamas.

“He was...I…” she shoves her hand down her bottoms shamelessly, feels for even a trace of his cum. It had to leak out as she slept! She had to have proof!  But her thighs are clean, even if the stretch of him is still there.

“Rei, we want to talk to you about stronger medication.”

She nods. 

The dose is upped and she’s numb but she sees nothing. For weeks, not a sign of him. At last, she rests her head against the pillow and the world starts to fade, and she wonders if she’d just been dreaming.

Until the door clicks open.

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas]

We need something with that new tattoo thing you just reblogged, like now

Oh you mean the one I just recently reblogged? done by @gspaepro? lets fucking GO. Also this shit is now canon in design, since I have the permission from them

Yiga rituals were very intricate. Motions and actions done in silence, motions done underneath candlelight and in the shadows. It was why traditional romance just. Didn’t suit their style, their way of life. Stuff like coffee dates, stuff like retiring in a farm, even wedding rings were not very common. It was one of the MANY reasons why it boggled Kohga’s mind, why he thought buying him an expensive ass wedding ring was the way to his heart. Don’t get Kohga wrong, it was a sweet gesture, but it was so...solid, so finite. It made Kohga feel like he’d be boxed in, like a cow behind a fence. He didn’t like it. 

“But you still shouldn’t have done that.”

He told himself. It had been years since Sooga attempted a proposal, and just yesterday, he tried again. Kohga was mad at first, but now that he sat here, in his bed, thinking about it, he realized that it wasn’t fair to Sooga. poor guy really poured his heart out to him, only to have it be rejected. It was why he avoided him all day, and had Von watch him in the meantime (usually he reserved that for Cil, but he REALLY didn’t feel like getting hit on right now). He needed to make it up to him. He needed something that wasn’t so ridged as those stones. Then it clicked. He went to the door, and turned to Von, who was laying the flirts on THICK to some foot soldier.

“Von, grab ass later. I need you to summon Sooga for me.”

“Yes, Master Kohga. You, me, your quarters. Tonight.”

He shot the flustered foot soldier a wink, and went off to go get Sooga. Wherever the hell he was. Kohga set everything up, just in time for him to knock at his door.

“Come in.”

Sooga opened the door slowly, helping himself in, and just. Standing there. Poor guy looked so stiff, as if he didn’t practically live in this room.

“Master Kohga, I just wanted to say-”

“Shh. Sit down for me, right here.”

Sooga sat down on the stool right by the bed. There was a silence as Kohga sat down on the bed.

“Sooga, I’m not mad. Okay? I get it. You really, really thought I was ready, after who knows how many years-”

“Three.”

“W-really three years ago? Fucking hell time flies. Anyhow, I’m sorry. I snapped because I was uncomfortable. But you didn’t deserve the way I yelled at you. So, I want to make it up to you.”

Sooga hesitated. He put his arm on the small table, as Kohga motioned for him to do.

“Master Kohga...are you...?”

“Yes. I’m going to give you something better than some stupid ring. Not that it’s stupid, It’s beautiful really. I just. Sooga, it’s not me. I want something that’ll let us BREATHE you know? So. I’m going to SHOW you what you are to me. Not with some rocks. Not with some gold and silver and something you can buy. It’s something I need to show you. Take off your sleeve for me.”

Sooga obeyed. Tattoos were a very intimate, very special part of the Yiga culture. You had to have one JUST to be a Yiga. Anything else done after that were usually done in bouts of passion, to show brotherly connections, to show a friendship unlike any others, or in this case, love. And to get such a sign of affection from his Master? His body was already his to play with.

“You are an artist, Master Kohga. I already boast that I have the most respectable brand out of everyone here.”

“Sounds like you. Idiot.”

He chuckled. Kohga wiped down the arm, just so nothing would get infected. Using a very special type of Yiga ink (that only Kohga was allowed to give for the clan to use. He made it himself, afterall), Kohga seemed to already have an idea in mind, and started to work. Tattoos were painfully slow to do, especially with the design Kohga had in mind. But Sooga didn’t mind. A few hours of pinpricks were worth it, just to be near his Master.

“May I ask...what made you decide to give me such a gift?”

“It felt...feel. The ring kinda...sorta...doesn’t. Feels restrictive. Like a bedazzled leash.”

“That sounds like a gift you WOULD like, though.”

“Shut up, you.”

They both chuckled at that. Sooga sat still, watching as the needle pricked his arm over and over, watched as the needle pushed the ink into his skin. Sooga always LOVED watching him tattoo people, on the rare chances he did so. Such careful, so caring of a touch.

“You know. This reminds me of when I first fell in love with you.”

“How so?”

“When you gave me my first tattoo. The one right on my thigh. I was so...transfixed. Such a strong man, with such a gentle touch.”

“Pfft. I remember that. You were such a string bean back then!”

Kohga chuckled. Those arms weren’t always so huge and bulging, and the rest of his body wasn’t always so meaty.

“I was. I saw nothing wrong with it. That is, until I noticed the man I had affections for, was constantly surrounded by big, bulky men. Suffice to say I was...jealous.”

“Even of Cil?”

“ESPECIALLY of Cil. You two looked so close back then. He was constantly at your hip. I always thought you touched him like this.”

“I mean, I DID do his tattoos. One of them anyway.”

Kohga was careful as he worked, making his motions slow, as if he’d startle Sooga if he moved too fast.

“One? What of the other?”

“He copied the one I did, put it on his other hand.”

“No wonder they always looked so different to me. It lacked the warmth of your style.”

“God you gotta make shit romantic all the time, eh?”

Sooga was so awestruck by the pattern. Lines and curves started to decorate his arms, slowly finding rhyme and reason against his skin.

“I can’t help it. When I’m near you, love is all I think about. You’re...the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“I get that a lot. Usually four times a week.”

He chuckled. After the lines, Kohga painted what looked to be almost like serpents. He was curious.

“What is the meaning of this design?”

“These lines and shit? They represent stability.”

“And the snakes?”

“Means ‘ties that bond’, essentially. It’s...stupid. But my dad had tattoos like these, kinda.”

“I’m honored to share in the resemblance.”

“I’m gonna add more to it though, If I'm gonna be railing that ass, I don’t wanna think about my old man. Old MEN sure, but not mine.”

Sooga chuckled, shaking his head. His Master had SUCH a way with words. he watched as the lines and curved and snakes soon gave way to the classic Yiga symbol. Done as carefully as the first one had been done. He watched as Kohga carefully, and slowly, added what looked like sickles to the symbol.

“Sickles?”

“It’s more or less Yiga branding. To show where your ties are. Case you somehow forget where you belong.”

“Wouldn’t ever. Even if I had amnesia. I would know in my heart where I belong.”

“Sounds like something stupid you’d say. That’s all your stupid, mushy gushy bullshit.”

Kohga added dots, little criss cross designs, and of course-

“Bananas?”

“....because you’re sweet.”

“And you call ME mushy!”

Sooga threw his head back in laughter, which was cut short as Kohga smacked his arm, making Sooga wince.

“Ow! It’s TENDER, dammit!”

“Then quit makin’ me wanna do it! You moron! And it’s...more than just some stupid lovey shit. See how its one, two, and then one?”

“Yes?”

“That’s...us. Us together. We’re more together. Plentiful. That and I might be kinda hungry.”

“Do you need a break?”

“I’m already being romantic, if I stop now I’m not gonna finish, and this tattoo is gonna look ugly as shit.”

“Unlike you.”

Kohga shook his head, scoffing. Absolute idiot. More criss crosses, more dots. Then something Sooga knew immediately.

“Yeah, it’s your weapon, big guy. You remember when you got it?”

“Yes. You gave it to me, upon announcing my new duty of protecting you. It was such an honor. Such blades being crafted, and for ME.”

“You know, I designed it myself.”

Sooga looked at the blades at his hip, then at the red ink. Bright, like the spilled blood of their enemies.

“You did?”

“Yep. You’re...different, Sooga. You needed something that was more than them. I-woah, you okay?”

“Yes, s-sorry. You just. Touched me and...sometimes it makes me jump.”

Kohga chuckled, lightly strumming his thumb over the spot he just touched.

“Right here?”

“....yes. You’re just. You have very soft hands. Always so delicate. It’s why I...I wanted to put a ring on your finger.”

“This again.”

“I’m s-sorry! I just. I just really. Really love you. With all that I am. I wanted to show it to you. But...I think I see what you mean.”

“How so, big guy?”

Sooga paused as Kohga continued his work, cautious as ever. 

“You don’t want the traditional means of matrimony. You want to be free. You want to do as you please, and you feel as though a ring in a confine. I make you feel restricted. And for that I’m...sorry.”

Kohga put the needle down, lightly blowing at the ink. He looked down at his work, and even though his ass hurt from sitting down for so long, he was in fact, VERY proud of himself. Long sleeve of red, detailed, careful designs and patterns. Something that meant something to them.

“You know what those last two slashes are?”

“I...no.”

“It means instead of just one strike, you have two. Two weapons, instead of one. It means...you have me. Ring be dammed.”

“Does this mean i...understand you properly?”

Kohga looked up at him, before grabbing his face, and pressing his lips against his. It was an out of the blue kiss, one rough and full of affection Kohga had for him. It lasted only a second, and Sooga missed it right when Kohga pulled away.

“Yeah. You did. I need YOU. I need our lives. I need to exist with you. I don’t need this other crap. I need...what I show you, right here.”

Kohga’s soft fingers slid over his work, and it almost made Sooga shuddered. There was something so tender, so sweet and loving about the touch. Even the way his skin felt raw and sore, it made his heart thud in his chest. Sooga caught Kohga’s hand in his own before it could pull away.

“What if I sold the damn thing, and we went on a vacation? A long one.”

“I’m listening.”

“To some far off land? I’ll pack, I’ll even carry you over every mountain and hill.”

“Hmmmm...not QUITE convinced.”

“I’ll make every beauty of the world feel hideous in your presence.”

“Now THAT’S what I’m talking about. Let’s do it. After THIS has healed, of course.”

“This might heal. But my heart will never, not so long as your gaze stabs it so.”

“This...is gonna be a long vacation. I can’t wait.”

Kohga chuckled, holding onto his shoulders and kissing him again. Just one more time.

[keyofjetwolf]

Hi would you like some rage about She-Ra season 5?

If the answer is no, please don’t click below. For real. Really for real. I’m not looking to piss in anyone’s Cheerios. I think if you were satisfied (or better!) with the show, that’s fantastic and I envy you. As I have always said, love what you love. My opinion is mine and means precisely nothing beyond that. If you think you may be even a little bummed reading about how someone didn’t like it, skip this post and go on with your day, I promise you’re not missing anything worthwhile.

IN A SIMILAR VEIN: If -- before, during, or after reading -- you feel inclined to argue with me, I am begging you to please not. I cannot begin to tell you how much I don’t want to be argued with on this right now. I’m still extremely disappointed and cranky, and I’m not much in the mood to have a measured, reasoned debate about my feelings. Much as my opinion has no bearing on you, your opinion has no bearing on me, and as I’m giving you the option to opt out, I’d appreciate the same courtesy. If you want to write your own post on your own blog, go nuts! Just please leave me out of it. I PREFER TO BE CRANKY AT TELEVISION SHOWS THAN PEOPLE.

The rest of you, come on down. I don’t promise coherency, but I DO promise a lot of stuff said in all-caps!

---

Hello! Thank you for joining me! We watched the remaining few episodes of She-Ra last night! I hated them! Yaaay!

What did I hate? OH HO HO MANY THINGS FRIENDS MANY THINGS. It’s not just stuff from the final couple of episodes either, I want to clarify. It’s the entire final season, settling on last few episodes like the freshly fallen snow on your front lawn that some frat boys decide to pee their names into. By the time we’d gotten to these last episodes, there was really nothing left for me but confirmation of all the shit I’d come to hate. SO THANKS I GUESS FOR PROVING ME RIGHT

Which isn’t to say there was nothing to enjoy in the final episodes! There was!

5. She-Ra’s Triceps. GET BUFF GIRL. I LOVE how Adora and She-Ra look similar, but very much not identical. Adora’s no slouch when it comes to physical stuff, but they go the extra mile to show us how She-Ra is that much more. HOW RARELY DO YOU GET TO SEE A WOMAN WITH MUSCLES. I’ve been nothing but impressed by the ways the show drew the line between Adora and She-Ra, and however I felt about its handling of other elements, it didn’t let me down here.

4. Sometimes A Family Is A Twink, A Lizard, And Their Imp Baby. I don’t have further commentary on this, and I need none.

3. Welcome Home, Daddy. THIS WAS SO SPECTACULAR. Glimmer had, I would argue, the most realized arc in the story. It was so gratifying to see this as a culmination, not just of her own struggle with her magical power and ability to harness it, but her willingness to do what needs doing, however personally difficult. That was a stumbling point Angelica could never overcome, continually trying to micromanage and protect Glimmer rather than trusting her and recognizing her for the asset she was. Also though, more succinctly: YESSSS BITCH

2. A Shanty! THIS WHOLE SCENE WAS PERFECT NO NOTES. Just the right blend of silly and sincere, a genuine delight as even brainwashed Mermista had had enough of Sea Hawk’s shit, AND so much more clever than it seemed at first glance. THIS IS THE ONLY VALID HETEROSEXUAL RELATIONSHIP IN SHE-RA I AM NOT TAKING QUESTIONS AT THIS TIME

1. Shadow Weaver. SHADOW FUCKING WEAVER. What a complicated, fascinating character, bar none the most interesting in the entire series. I do think they pulled their punch right at the very end with her, but I AM capable of remembering I’m watching a kid’s show, so I can only get so disappointed about it. Mostly, she remained a beautifully morally complex character, and she was one of my greatest personal delights from beginning to end*.

(*) Boy did this show have one single solution for mommy issues though.

THAT WAS ABOUT IT. So let’s get to why we’re all really here, and that is MY SCREAMING OH MY GOD WHERE DO I BEGIN

Nah, I know exactly where to begin.

GLIMMER AND BO JESUS MCTRISKET I AM GOING TO EXPLODE AND SHOWER THE UNIVERSE IN THE SHRAPNEL OF MY HATE

WHY IS THIS HAPPENING

WHERE DID IT COME FROM

HOW CAN I SHOVE IT BACK IN THE HATEFUL SPEWHOLE THAT SIRED THIS BULLSHIT

WHY WHY IS THIS HERE WHY IS THIS IN MY FACE WHERE MY EYES HAVE TO SEE IT FUCK ME SIDEWAYS THIS IS THE MOST UNNECESSARY SHOEHORNED IN HET ROMANCE FUCK A DOODLE NONSENSE I HAVE EVER HAD THE MISFORTUNE TO BEAR WITNESS WHAT IS IT DOING IN THIS OTHERWISE EXPONENTIALLY GAY CARTOON

WERE YOU PANDERING TO THE STRAIGHTS

WHY ARE YOU PANDERING TO THE STRAIGHTS I ASSURE YOU WE ARE COVERED BOTH HISTORICALLY AND FICTIONALLY

ALSO NEED I REMIND YOU THAT YOU HAVE ALREADY ACHIEVED HETEROSEXUAL PERFECTION

NO MERMISTA NO WE ARE NOT ALL JUST LIKE OKAY WITH THIS

Oh my FUCKSTICKS, I could’ve rolled with so much more that angers/disappoints me about She-Ra’s ending if every single thing I feared about this hadn’t proved true.

AND. IT. WAS. SO. UNNECESSARY.

What exactly did pairing off Glimmer and Bo do for the story? For their characters? THIS IS THE PART THAT’S STABBING ME IN THE DELICATE WEBBING OF MY TOES. Because -- COME WITH ME A MOMENT SWEET ANGELS -- because I was under the impression that, oohhhh, I dunno, FRIENDSHIP WAS A HUGE FUCKING IMPORTANT PART OF THIS PASTEL HELLSCAPE

Is it, She-Ra? IS IT REALLY???? When not one but BOTH of your childhood friendship pairings end in romance? When you close out your five seasons with romantic relationships so painfully and specifically sown across the character landscape like an overzealous gardener turned loose on the world?

You know what you have at the end? DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID

THIS ISN’T A BEST FRIENDS SQUAD IT’S A DOUBLE DATE THAT NEVER MERCIFULLY ENDS

And again I ask, Why?? What was it about Glimmer and Bo’s relationship that needed them to become romantic? What was LACKING that this was the solution?

THIS IS WHAT MAKES ME LOSE MY GODDAMN SHITTING MIND I AM SO FUCKING DONE WITH THIS INSIPID MYOPIC TRASHBAG OF A CONCEPT

I believed She-Ra’s entire premise about friendship, I believed it wholeheartedly, and I’m so PISSED that at the close of day, narratively, it swept it all the bin. AND YES, YES IT DID, otherwise, WHY IS IT THERE. It serves no story-based need, it serves no character-based need, it has no NEED at all. So is it meant to be a “reward” to Bo and Glimmer for winning the war, as if their lifelong friendship were not reward enough? Is it meant to show they’ve walked through the flames and emerged with stronger, deeper bonds, because of course a relationship can only go SO deep without fucking. There’s no avenue to Romantic Relationship that doesn’t simultaneously point to something lacking in Platonic Relationship, AND I AM FURY PERSONIFIED

I am so tired of this. I’m SO TIRED of this.

And it didn’t need to be there. They didn’t even TRY to give us a good reason. That may be the part that makes me the angriest. Of COURSE they hook up romantically, of COURSE their platonic love would grow into “more”.

Fuck YOU, She-Ra. I thought you were better than that. YOU WERE SO CLOSE TO BETTER THAN THAT

THEN THERE WAS CATRA

I get it, I guess. I mean, I think it’s shittily written, but I GUESS. Honestly, end of day, I just don’t care about Catra enough to really get too angry about it, particularly when as I’m so fucking incendiary over something much more important to me. But it’s also the show’s greatest creative failure, and even if I HADN’T gotten angrier at other choices, it would’ve still cut its own legs out from under it.

Catra’s “redemption” was weak and sad and did a disservice to her and everyone involved. She started self-centered and shitty, and she ended just as self-centered and shitty, only we’re fine with that now. She learned nothing and changed nothing, but also nobody ever demanded it of her, so I can only lay so much at the character’s feet. The problem is ultimately creative, where I think Noelle Stevenson got lost in her own love of the character, and somewhere along the way forgot that if you take them out that far, you have to be willing to walk them the long road back. Compare to poor Glimmer, for fuck’s sake, whose greatest sin was being desperate enough to be manipulated by the character whose entire fucking DEAL is being THE manipulator. How much shit did she get for that? How long was she punished? Meanwhile Catra becomes THE Big Bad for a while, nearly unravels all of reality in a fit of supreme lesbian angst and self-pity, directly leads to the death of the planet’s ruling monarch who also happens to be GLITTER’S MUM and DIRECT FRIEND TO THE SHOW’S HEROES, but that’s fine, you did one sorta good thing one time and even though it was also wrapped in a thick film of self-pity and a final fuck-you at Adora, all is forgiven!

Speaking of, Adora suffers just as much from stunted growth. From the beginning, her thing was control, unable to free herself from the responsibility of everything and everyone. What did we have at the end? Adora as the only one who could save everything and everyone. Yeah, they kept asking what it was SHE wanted, BUT THEN SHE NEVER ACTUALLY GOT TO CHOOSE. NOT activating the failsafe wasn’t an option for her, and while she wound up not having to die to do it, even that wasn’t her choice in the end, it was Catra’s. (Don’t even get me started on her nth hour “You love me?” fuckery when it wasn’t once for one single second shown to be a question of such life-turning importance.)

All of which could be interesting! That Catra and Adora went through all this, came so far to wind up right where they started? AWESOME. LOVE IT. FUND IT. But really all that happens is nobody minds now that Catra’s a self-involved little shit and tee-hee another Best Friends Squad Mission being bullrushed by Adora within five minutes of ending the last one isn’t that funny?

I can’t even dig much enjoyment out of Adora and Catra as a trope subversion (if one of them was a male, their romantic involvement wouldn’t have even been a QUESTION), because the show lost its fucking mind with romantically pairing everybody off in the final five minutes. WHICH BRINGS ME RIGHT BACK TO MY PREVIOUS SCREAMING SO I’LL STOP THERE.

There was other stuff, of course. I think it was a TERRIBLE decision to spend the last season with the focus split between the two groups of rebels, and writing half the cast into brainwashing. I think the Nettossa and Spinnerella stuff was wasted and lacked any punch at all because the show for some reason or another couldn’t be bothered to let us spend any time with them to care. The waste of Scorpia and Mermista especially (to people named Jet Wolf who are me) was fucking CRIMINAL. Speaking of Scorpia, wouldn’t her showdown with Bo have been so much more poignant if they’d had really any kind of interaction before that moment to build from? (Sure, it’s Scorpia, so if you’re going to sell the lack of context with anyone it’s her, BUT ALSO.) Hey, remember Huntara? No? NEITHER DID THE SHOW.

All my details aside though, MY MANY MANY MANY DETAILS, what kills/rages me most about She-Ra was how so much potential from the first four seasons was just flushed away. Whether it was the creative team shooting itself in the foot or corporate pressure and rushing from Netflix, I don’t know. I don’t CARE. This is the show I was given, so this is the show I have, and that kind of fall after that kind of potential doesn’t just irritate me, it makes me SAD. I wouldn’t be this disappointed if I didn’t think it could have been -- WAS -- so much more.

Time will tell if I can separate out the final season from how much I loved those that came before it. I like to hope so, because I did love it intensely and loved whenever I got the chance to really dig in and talk about it.

WHATEVER ELSE I SUPPOSE I WILL ALWAYS HAVE THIS

Again please remember that I am not at present looking to argue or debate my feelings and opinions. I get to just be angry and disappointed, as a treat!

[lycorogue]

Latest Story: Perfect Doesn’t Need to be Perfect

(Thank you to my husband for coming up with this story’s title)

I’m back! Well... I’m sorta back. I had every intention of having this story DONE by yesterday so I could promote it in a blog update today, and when that didn’t happen I hoped to have it done by tomorrow at the latest...  ya know, because the end of Christmas season and all, but that is definitely not happening either.

So, instead, I’m waving the white flag. I’m just publishing the first 3 chapters tonight. I’m aiming to drop the next 3 tomorrow, another 3 chapters on the 7th, and the final 3 on the 8th; assuming I can actually get myself situated enough to get this story done by then.

Also, I completely hijacked this entire story off of @thetauruspixie​, and thus, as a thank you for unofficially letting me run away with her Muse, I gift this story unto her.

Thank you, Pixie, for the glorious story Twelve Days of Chatmas. It is truly the gift that keeps on giving as my reread on AO3 this past Christmas inspired Perfect Doesn’t Need to be Perfect. I had been severely struggling with being even remotely creative in 2020, and barely wrote anything. You, Pixie, gave me back my inspiration. Thank you. And thanks for the piggyback ride here. I hope you enjoy my interpretation of your fantastic story.

Perfect Doesn’t Need to be Perfect

**Contains Spoilers for Taurus Pixie’s story Twelve Days of Chatmas**

Summary: Chat Noir has run into a long streak of poor luck, all in an attempt to give Ladybug the perfect Christmas gift. Little does he know, his first try was already perfect in Ladybug’s eyes. Now it’s her turn to try to navigate around Chat Noir’s failed attempts in her own pursuit to find something equally fantastic for him. **A Switched-POV Unofficial Companion Story to Twelve Days of Chatmas by Taurus Pixie**

Rating: General Audience

Chapter Word Count: 2073

Story Total Word Count: 37,973

Status: chapter 1 of 12; complete

**For reals, if you haven’t read Twelve Days of Chatmas yet, read that first so my story doesn’t spoil anything for you. It’s cool. This story will still be here when you get back. ;) **

See below for chapter 1, or find this story over on AO3, on FFN, or on DA. 

CHAPTER 1:

Ladybug paced the rooftop her and Chat Noir agreed upon as a meeting spot. They were supposed to go on patrol nearly ten minutes ago, and he was still nowhere to be seen. It wasn't like him to be late for patrol; for any sort of scheduled meet-up with her, actually. If anything, he was typically the one waiting, eager to spend as much time as possible together.

“It's getting close to Christmas,” she reminded herself. “Maybe he's caught up in some family festivities or something. He's fine.” She tried picturing him hanging up Christmas ornaments on a tree, which ended up a bit amusing since she could only picture him how she knew him: as Chat Noir. She imagined him perched on his extended stick so he could reach the top of the tree to place the star or secure the lights or sprinkle some tinsel on everything. Ladybug then had a nice little chuckle at the idea of Chat Noir just tossing tinsel like some overly enthusiastic flower girl.

“Yeah,” she breathed out in assurance, “he's just covered in tinsel right now, or tangled up in lights, or freaking out his family as he juggles the Christmas ornaments or something. He's fine, just lost track of the time. That's all.” She let out a shaky sigh and checked her yo-yo again.

No akuma alerts, so at least it seemed fine that their patrol was starting late, and Chat Noir wasn't caught up in a battle she didn't know about. Ladybug again walked the length of the roof, hoping maybe Chat Noir was just out of view of where she was waiting. Still nothing.

Another check of her yo-yo. No messages from Chat Noir either.

“Where are you?” she asked the wind.

The sun was nearly set. While Paris was typically lit up fairly brightly at night – especially with all the added illuminated Christmas decorations – and she could see well enough, it still bothered her that she no longer had the daylight for their patrol. Potential akuma victims could be hiding in the shadows, trying to find somewhere to be alone with their pain, and she'd have a much harder time finding them now. She really needed Chat Noir to help her, and he was over ten minutes late.

Where is he? Did he forget? She opened her yo-yo once more. Still no messages from him. Her thumbs hovered over the touch screen as she debated sending him a text or calling him. With an audible sigh and drooping of her shoulders, she closed her yo-yo again. There was no point; he wouldn't be able to get the messages unless he was Chat Noir, and if he was powered up he should be coming to meet up with her.

“Please be okay.” Her fingers gently brushed across her yo-yo, hoping for some sort of contact from her partner. Shaking the nerves loose, she paced the rooftop once more. “Five more minutes. Then I'll just patrol on my own. He's fine. He probably just forgot. Or he got caught up in something. Or-”

As she turned a corner she spotted him. Chat Noir stood on a rooftop across the street from where she was waiting. He was just staring at her with a goofy smile on his face. No. He wasn't staring at her, he was staring past her, as if he were lost in thought or something.

“Chat Noir?” She was getting worried and he was lazily daydreaming? Without so much as a text to let her know he was alright and on his way? How long had he been standing there?

Chat Noir jumped when Ladybug called out to him; ripped out of his reverie. He blinked a few times, clearly trying to catch his bearings as she walked to the back ledge of the roof she was on.

“I was starting to get worried. Where were you? What are you doing standing over there?” Before he could answer, Ladybug lassoed the chimney beside him with her yo-yo and swung herself over to him. As soon as she landed she rushed to Chat Noir to look him over to make sure he was alright. He didn't seem to be puppeted by an akumatized villain, but she wasn't sure how to be certain about that.

Chat Noir didn't answer her. He didn't move. He simply gulped as she stretched her body out to get a good look at his eyes. They weren't glazed over like they tend to be when he was being controlled. Ladybug couldn't figure out why he was acting so strange.

“Okay, now I'm really worried.” She waved a hand in front of his face and watched as his eyes followed it. “You're never this quiet. Has something happened?”

“No!” Chat Noir snapped back to normal as he blurted out the first thing Ladybug heard from him all night. He gave her his goofy grin that he clearly thought looked suave. His eyes had their usual twinkle. He was fine, a bit distant at first, but now he was himself again.

Tension released from Ladybug's shoulders and neck, but her face still scrunched in confusion. Where was he just a moment ago, and why hadn't he tried to contact her?

“Then what's going on? Why were you so late?” As she asked the questions she wondered if he could even answer. If it was something that might reveal who he is would he withhold that info, or use this as an excuse to drop her hints?

No, she told herself, he knows the rules. He may want us to know who the other is, but he wouldn't purposefully try to reveal himself or figure out who I am.

“I...errr...” He started scratching the back of his head as he broke eye contact.

It was something personal, and I'm over here demanding to know! I'm such an idiot! Ladybug berated herself. As she opened her mouth to tell him to not worry about it, he preemptively cut her off.

“I-I got you a Christmas present.” This was the most nervous she had seen Chat Noir. To know it was over him getting her a present was kind of adorable. “Well,” he continued with a small squeak in his voice, “made you a Christmas present.”

Ladybug took a step back as she finally noticed Chat Noir had been protectively cradling something in his hands. He shot it forward to show her his surprise.

He held out a tiny terra cotta pot barely five centimeters tall and fitted snugly with white foam. Sticking out of the foam was a charming, albeit clumsily cut out, card stock tree with curving branches. Almond-shaped leaves cut out of green construction paper and doused in green glitter filled out the tree in a fluffy circle arching around the trunk. It must have taken him hours to cut out and glue on the dozens of leaves, and Ladybug could picture the poor guy still finding the green glitter in his home for months to come with the amount he used. Plump looking pears were cut out of yellow-green construction paper and scattered throughout the tree. Perched atop the trunk, nestled within the main Y of the branches, was an adorably round bird made out of brown card stock with little gray accents colored in with marker. The smallest wooden clothespin Ladybug had ever seen was painted red and glued onto the bird for its beak. Clasped within the beak was an equally tiny note with Ladybug delicately written across the front of it. The finishing touch, however, were the two dozen or so red valentine hearts – also cloaked in glitter; Chat Noir's poor table – hung throughout the pear tree sculpture like romantic Christmas ornaments.

There were bits where the glue was clumped and poking out from behind the leaves or hearts, and some of the hearts were cockeyed or stuck to the trunk instead of the leaves and branches; clearly they had shifted before the glue could dry and he hadn't noticed. The tree also leaned forward a bit from the weight of the clothespin and note not being counterbalanced. The whole thing was a bit unpolished, and a bit rushed in places, but it was also clear that so much time and dedication and effort was put into it. The little card stock tree was a bit goofy and clumsy, and maybe not the most well thought out, but it was also endearing in its imperfections. This project was just so Chat Noir that Ladybug couldn't think of a more perfect present.

“Aww, Chat Noir, you didn't have to-”

A sharp winter wind startled them as it whipped past, tilting Ladybug slightly off balance with its force. The tree did not fair as well.

Chat Noir stared in shock, one eye twitching, as he held tight to the pot. The card stock tree was nearly ripped out of the foam; dangling by a small corner as the trunk itself, now terribly bent, leaned against the side of the pot. A good quarter of the leaves that weren't quite dry were either shifted out of place or blown off completely. Three of the pears were lost to the wind, and the rest were stuck to the trunk of the tree or the edge of the pot. Not a single heart ornament remained. The partridge now dangled upside down on one of the branches, with the note ripped where the wind tried to tear it from the faithful grip of the wooden beak. A long glue smear trailed behind the paper bird, and glitter was stripped from the leaves the partridge passed through.

All of that work, and one good gust wrecked it. Ladybug knew that pain all too well.

“Chat Noir, are-”

“And this wasn't it! This wasn't the present I got you.” Chat Noir forced laughter and too broad of a smile as he took a step away from Ladybug. “As if I would get you something so horrible.”

Ladybug's face fell into a little pout. It pained her that he thought so poorly of his gift. “Chat Noir, it's fi-”

“Next time I see you, I'll give you the present you deserve.” Both of their eyes drifted to the damaged pear tree sculpture. “This was just a joke.” Chat Noir gestured with the pot and then forced another laugh. “But I promise,” he continued, taking a few more retreating steps, “that you shall have a Christmas present worthy of someone as amazing as you! You'll see!” He hastily placed the pot on the roof as he took his stick off his back. The second the pot was out of his hand, the stick extended to jettison Chat Noir into the sky.

“Chat Noir! Wait!” Ladybug rushed towards him, arm outstretched. “What about-”

He propellered his stick to glide a few houses down the street; definitely out of earshot. In a flash he was leaping across the Seine and was gone.

“-patrol,” Ladybug finished with a sigh. It was probably too late to bother anyway. Plus, her heart wasn't really in it either, not after her partner was so crushed.

She bent down and gingerly picked up the little sculpture off the roof. Turning it slowly in her hands, she admired the craftsmanship Chat Noir had put into this immensely heartfelt gift. Picking at the partridge, the bird slid some more; the glue still hadn't set. She glanced in the direction that Chat Noir disappeared, and gave a little smile and knowing head shake. She delicately played more with the bird until she could wiggle it free of the sculpture. Placing the pot back on the rooftop, she opened up the magical pocket within her yo-yo, and placed the bird and note gently inside. Next were the pears and loose leaves. As she stood back up a few of the hearts caught her eye. She managed to collect five of them and put those in her yo-yo as well. Once she believed she had cleaned up as much of Chat Noir's project as she could find, she cradled the sculpture and started home.

She was determined to find a way to prove to Chat Noir how precious this present was to her. In the meantime, her mind whirled with gift ideas for him in return.

Thank you for reading. Read Next Chapter

Please let me know if you want me to add you to the tag list.

@discoveringmiraculouswriters

[boseongkrp]

( the friend #3, park chaeyoung/rose, she/her ) — introducing BAEK SERIN, the 22 year old WAITRESS AND MUSICIAN at devil’s kitchen bar, known around boseong as THE MELOMANIAC. the residents would describe her as painted nails & lipstick stains on cigarettes, lyrics hidden within coffee-stained journals, 1980’s jazz, indie, funk, and rock.

now loading her interview....

PLEASE TELL US MORE ABOUT YOURSELF.

“More about myself, huh?” She quips, supporting her chin in one of her two hands. “I can spin my hands 360 degrees. Wanna see?” An eyebrow quirks as she focuses her gaze on the person before her and doesn’t try to say anything else on the matter of her weird skill, allowing the subject to vanish when the other clears their throat. She shouldn’t have been sitting in this room again in the first place. She remembers too much, even now.

“The story goes like this— Mother was high up in the hierarchy of Boseong’s youth. Beautiful, intelligent, the kind of girl who could have any man she set her sights on but she threw it all away to become a poor man’s wife. Her exact words.” The words flow like a slow drawl. Half-clung to a distracted half-smile, eyes trailing the edge of the table. Past memories knock on her door, and she lets them through. “Enter Romeo. My father, who comes from rags, a farmer that struggles to make ends meet. Father said he used to makes extra money by singing on street corners and busking around with his homegrown magic tricks, which he never shared the secrets to.”

Finally, she settles her gaze. Peers at the other through the overcast glow of the lights up above. Too yellow, too bright. She blinks through the spots in her vision.

“They’re not supposed to meet, you know? Should’ve never crossed paths to begin with, but in true Romeo and Juliet form: they do anyway. They promised to run away together - into the horizon, over the mountains and beyond. So it’s funny then, that I was born here, in the quiet, sheltered middle of nowhere.”

She hates it. Loathes anything that feels forced, and all of these interrogation sessions are the very epitome of it. But she must give them something. Give them the answers they want.

“They had me, and for a while everything was right.” A pause. “But one day, just like father’s magic coin tricks, mother vanished.” For a second her face holds the same look of hurt it held many years ago.

———

It is mid November and the sky was greying. She didn’t say much from behind the window as she watched droplets of rain hit the glass with a ‘tap’ and by now she knew better than to light all the dark rooms in the house. And she could feel it, the tide of the past July. It’s like this one morning she looked across the dinner table and everything that has ever been left unspoken was being said. No one ever had to tell her anything, she always managed to catch snippets of what was happening around her, observation had been but a hobby to her for as long as she could remember and the sight of her father crying was something unfamiliar to her, something she would notice right away. Serin could see it, the way her father spoke in dim lit words, the way her mother’s name escaped her father’s. How often do we wear smiles that hurt, smiles that tell us we have endured too long? Serin feels heavy and the worst thing is, she knows the weather of departure; the humid air, the rain pouring announcing that winter is near.

———

Her flashback montage is interrupted by the soft squeak of a chair, and really, she doesn’t know what else to say.

“Uhm. What more do you wish to know?” She muses out loud, keeping her voice barely audible. She can’t let just anyone hear her sad story after all. “Right, more abo—”she mutters, but leaves her sentence unfinished.

“I’m that one girl no one writes songs about.”

Serin’s like a messy book, filled with half read sentences, marked up paragraphs, folded corners and empty pages. Half a hopeless romantic and half a skeptic. She doesn’t let people in, only a few have trickled deep within the small gaps between the pages, and somehow the book opens and she gives them a chapter. She feels with a terrible intensity. Too many vowels in her mouth, too many crumpled pages in her pockets. Her mouth twisted into rivers, pouring into too many oceans at once. At times, she says quite a lot and nothing at all. She always takes too little and gives too much. Reaches for anything, finding joy in the most rare of places. Comes and goes, disappears like mist rising in the sky. Maybe she is a liminal space. An in-between. A gas station on a longer journey. blurry, dreamlike. A threshold. An exhilarating parenthesis. She is simply someone searching for - a phrase, a light, a fire. The signs along the way.

SO WHAT DO YOU THINK OF BOSEONG?

She’s born in Boseong. It’s obvious in the kind of gaze she enforces. Like dead foliage, a wet morning, the dewy rise of dawn circling the dark pits of her eyes. The idea of the town swells in its bitter taste through the bite of her growing molars; the pith of intelligence blossoming with the ravenous flavor.

“It’s the place I’ve lived all my life. My home.” It feels unnatural to call it that, but it is what it is.

HAVE YOU EVER LEFT OR THOUGHT ABOUT LEAVING BOSEONG?

“Leaving?,” she trails off, gaze drifting away from the other in faux contemplation.

“The thought has crossed my mind a couple of times.”

But, it is sorta intoxicating. Living here, being here, existing among all the rumors and secrets that define it into the town of a thriller setting and sad sound. It’s like she’s born glued to Boseong. Ripped out of the reasoning to leave. Boseong is a void shadow lingering in the background of the world as it parades forward.

WERE YOU CLOSE WITH HA EUNMI? WHAT WAS YOUR IMPRESSION OF HER?

“Shouldn’t you know the answer to this? Is it not scribbled down on the reports?” She certainly doesn’t like it when others ask questions they know the answer to. She doesn’t even bother to look at the other, painted fingernails drumming softly on the rim of the table.

“It is well known we were best friends.” Closing her eyes for a brief moment, she tries to pull a soul-stirring recollection off a dusty shelf stacked with her memories, reminiscing about the day she first met Eunmi, and how lonely she felt, and how much warmth Eunmi brought into her dreadfully cold and empty life.

“She was nice, everyone loved her. She had a way of making you feel—special. Being her friend meant you were liked as well.”

It was hard tho, being Eunmi’s friend wasn’t always easy. Maintaining friendships, having close acquaintances, it all requires a certain amount of effort and sacrifice, something that perhaps not everyone wishes to give away so effortlessly. People grow and outgrow you. People change and most often, people forget about you.

DO YOU HAVE A DARK SECRET THAT NO ONE KNOWS OF?

<   R E D A C T E D   >

[whosjunglejim4322]

A Bitter Taste-JJK

Summary- Your new roommate happens to be a vampire. He also happens to have a peculiar distaste towards humans, ironically. What happens when he realizes, that you're the only person he’s sorta liked in over a century?

Genre | vampire!Jungkook x reader, best friend!Taehyung x reader, angst, some fluff between bff Tae and Y/n

Warnings | slight nsfw content, mentions of blood

So a vampire and a human walk into a shared apartment..." 

The joke will never be even remotely funny, not even when it is passing the pink lips of your best friend Taehyung, his eyes transforming into crescent moons as he laughs exuberantly at his own wit. 

You roll your eyes with the ghost of a smile still lingering on your pout, chin in your palm as your metal straw clanks against the melting ice in your empty glass. You finished your Bloody Mary an hour ago, but you just can’t bring yourself to leave the company of Taehyung. 

Mostly because the creature who has been your housing mate for the past three months, sort of despises anything that has an actual heartbeat. 

You don’t exactly blame him, considering what humans have done to vampires in the past, and the fact that in some other parts of the world vampires are still hunted and killed rather than accepted. 

Your city, in fact, is one of the only ones that actually considers vampires as common folk, even having functioning blood banks filled with volunteers ready to help cater to them as to create a safe and healthy environment for everyone involved. 

Of course, there are a few bad apples, just as humans, which is why your city does things the way it does. 

If they have a safe place to get their meals, there are less rampages or hungry vampires going rouge. 

Not that vampires really scare you, which is why you had little to no inhibitions when signing the lease to become Jeon Jungkooks roommate. 

Though, it was safe to say that he wasn't exactly thrilled to have you in his quarters. But he was desperate, and honestly was willing to accept anyone. Even people like you, with your rose scented hair and bright, blinding smile. 

Disgusting, he had thought to himself. Who even are you? To come waltzing in smelling sweet, to have such warmth within your aura. You didn’t flinch, not even when he was telling you the rules you’d have to follow when living with him. 

“First and foremost, keep all of your refrigerated food on the bottom shelf. My meals stay on the top at all times, to keep them colder, and fresher.” 

You felt your skin crawl at the mention of his meals, but it’s no like you hadn't expected it. He’s a vampire for god sakes. It still doesn't mean that trying to make yourself a sandwich and seeing a bag of blood is very pleasant, though.

He met your eyes for the first time since you met him, the almost obsidian irises feeling as if they were boring into your soul. You are sure he could hear the beating of your heart, the pounding of your pulse. Maybe it’s because he looked like a walking, fallen angel; dark hair shadowing the sharp planes of his face, eyes hooded as if even looking at you is a task. 

Or maybe it was because, quite frankly, biting your tongue was becoming difficult, especially with the tone of his next statement. 

“And for no reason should you ever go into my room or study, no matter how urgent your mundane mind thinks the situation might be. Understood?” 

You grit your teeth, remembering that he simply is a disgruntled creature and that you shouldn't let it get to you. “Of course, your majesty.”

You aren't quite sure what compelled you to think that a being like him would find sarcasm to be even partially amusing, but it was already to late to take it back. 

“Your room is down the hall.”

His face remained stone cold, pink lips set into the same, straight line as they had been throughout the entire introduction. You leaned down to grab the handle of your suitcase, and gave him a jubilant grin as you turned on the heels of your boots and trotted off towards your room. 

He grimaced, suddenly feeling as if he needs a drink. He really didn’t know how he was going to put up with you. 

“I think I’m gonna head home, feeling woozy.” Taehyung pouts as you push your empty glass to the side, stretching your limbs before you slide out of the booth. 

He stands with you, gently grasping your wrists and pulling you towards his lithe figure. You let out a sigh as he looks down at you with puppy dog eyes. “Why don’t you stay over? We can have a movie night and eat our weight in snacks, for old times sake.” 

You smile warmly as you wrap your arms around Taehyungs middle, feeling contentment when surrounded by his warmth and sweet, lavender scent. You remind yourself to steal a dollop of whatever lotion he uses the next time you visit his place. 

“I wish I could, but I don’t want to piss off grumpy pants by coming home any later than midnight. Isn’t it you and Jimins anniversary anyways?” 

You look up at him through your lashes, watching his expression change from one of disappointment, to giddiness at the mention of his lover. 

“Yeah but he loves you, and so do I. Besides, why are you worried about coming home too late? Does someone have a crush on Mr. Cullen?” 

You groan against his chest before pushing yourself off of him, giving his broad shoulder a swat as you glare up at him, his dark eyebrows wiggling about. 

“First of all, he’s much more of a Dracula and-hey! I don't have a crush on him! I’d never-he’d never even look at me like that.” 

Taehyung pulls you back into him with a goofy, boxy grin, chuckling at your tipsy state as he whispers in your ear.

“Whatever, lightweight. Just remember who your first and best kiss was.” 

You squeal as the mint haired boy begins to assault your face with a series of loud, obnoxious smooches, causing you to push yourself off of him with a grimace as you wipe your face with your sleeve. 

You giggle as he throws up a finger heart, your eyes rolling for the tenth time tonight as you pull your phone out of your back pocket to call an Uber. 

It is, in fact, true. Taehyung was your first kiss all the way back in sixth grade, underneath the sunset at an empty park after band rehearsal. 

There was a time you had a helpless crush on the boxy smiled boy, how could you not? He’s all soft, honey colored skin, long eyelashes shading chocolate irises, and plump pink lips serving as the centerpiece of his canvas. 

But, you soon realized that he is much more of a platonic soulmate than a romantic one, and you were more than ok with that. In fact, you were thrilled when you found out that he and your universities most famous dance major, Jimin, began dating. 

“Uber is here, gotta go.” 

Taehyung groans, reaching over and giving your hands a squeeze. “That was fast, want me to walk you out?” 

You smile, shaking your head. “I think I can survive one night without TaeTae’s protection. Plus, your lover boy will be here any minute.”

His lips turn upwards at the mention of his childhood nickname, given to him by you, and his grin only grows at the thought of Jimin arriving shortly to begin celebrating their anniversary early. 

“Ok, I’ll see you tomorrow? I’ll have to tell you all about tonight.” he gives you a playful wink as you walk towards the exit, your eyebrows wiggling mischievously. 

“Of course, use protection!” you shout at him from across the bar, both of you ignoring any stares or expressions of distaste, You and Taehyung have always been like this, shameless around the other. It’s refreshing, having a best friend like him that seems to break you out of every shell that you are trying to hide in. 

“Always, baby!” he shouts back, causing a boisterous giggle to bubble in your throat as you exit, giving him a small wave goodbye. 

When you push your key into the lock belonging to you and Jungkooks shared apartment, you realize Taehyung was right. You are a lightweight.

Stumbling through the cold and dark apartment, you begin to think about how obvious it is that you live with a vampire. Speaking of Jungkook, it really bums you out that he doesn’t like you. 

Maybe it’s just the alcohol and exhaustion that is making you feel this way, but the more you dwell on it, the more it gets to you. You have been nothing but nice and accepting these past three months since the day you met him, and frankly, its unfair that he treats you the way he does. 

So, instead of walking to your room, you decide to make an admittedly unwise detour. You know that this isn’t a good idea, but hey, fuck it, right? If he was going to kill you or drain you of your blood he would have already, it’s not like this is going to suddenly make him angrier than what he already is. 

It’s the moment before your palm touches the cold door knob, that a petulant sound graces your ears. 

Actually, the more you listen and the louder the sound grows, you realize its far more than just petulant. It’s a cry, sharp and enough for your fight or flight senses to kick in. 

All your last two braincells can piece together is vampire, girl, crying, and before you know it, you are impulsively swinging Jungkooks door open. 

There are a few things you are expecting to find. Perhaps, a girl getting her throat ripped out. A room covered in blood. A sight that would undoubtedly be Lestats wet dream. 

But, to your surprise, there are none of those things. 

Just Jungkook, with one knee propped up on his messy bed, fingers digging into a soft pair of hips as he fucks the stranger into his mattress with enough force to make the person hang onto his nightstand for dear life.

You don’t even realize how long you've been staring until you hear Jungkook yelling, one arm in the air as he uses the other to cove his still hard manhood with one of his beige colored sheets. 

“Get the fuck out! Didn’t I tell you to never come in here?!” 

One look into his raven eyes, and you seem to come back down to reality, feet finally moving as you run out, slamming the door behind you before scuttling into your room, out of breath. 

You close your eyes, back against your door as you try to figure out what in the fuck just happened. 

You thought Jungkook was murdering someone, but instead, you just found him clapping cheeks. 

You feel like crying, quite honestly. You have always been like that, too sensitive for being scolded, too soft to be yelled at. You should have taken up Taehyungs offer and just stayed with him and Jimin, it would have been a hell of a lot better than making your already irate roommate dislike you even more. 

You don’t bother to remove your clothes as you slip into your bed, underneath the weight of your comforter. You try to think of anything other than the sight you’ve just seen, but it proves to be even harder than you think when you hear his bedroom door creak open, footsteps padding towards the front door before it opens, and then slams shut. 

You are going to hear it in the morning. 

The sun warms your skin as its golden rays peer through your blinds, light being the only thing you can see from behind your eyelids. 

For a moment you almost forget about last nights disconcerting events. Key word, almost.

Dread fills your empty stomach as you hear rustling coming from the kitchen just down the hall, signaling that Jungkook is awake. 

You have three options. 

Number one: pretend it never happened, go on about your business. 

Number two: just wait until he’s gone, then go make breakfast, and continue to avoid him at all costs. 

Number three: talk to him.

In your head, none of these will go particularly well. Pretending it never happened just isn’t going to happen, considering Jungkook practically jump at every opportunity he has to scold you. He will definitely give you hell for this one. 

Avoiding him is also literally impossible, since you literally live with him and will have to cross his path sometime or another. 

Talking to him, even with all the options being bad, is the best one. Perhaps he will understand once you explain to him that you were tipsy and totally misinterpreted what was going on. 

Or maybe the situation is just as helpless as you think it is. 

You open your door just enough to make sure Jungkook won’t see you as you scamper off to the bathroom, only catching sign of his back before you are in the clear. 

Emptying your bladder and brushing your teeth gives you time to think. Not nearly enough, though. But you figure if you brush any longer your gums will start to bleed, so it’s time to suck it up. 

You hype yourself up enough to actually feel semi confident as you walk out, giving your reflection a sigh. You look tired and scared, an image you don’t like. 

You know Jungkook knows you have entered the room, he’s a vampire, a stubborn and irritable one at that. But still, he leans against the counter with his broad back facing you as you sit at a bar stool opposite of him. 

He is sipping something out of a mug, what most people would presume to be coffee, but with all things considered you know better. Although, it probably is sort of like a vampires breakfast, so it doesn’t really bother you as much as it used to. 

It’s quiet until you speak, and you are sure he can sense the lump in your throat, the pounding of your pulse. Sure, like you've stated, you aren't scared of Jungkook by any means, but you are most definitely intimidated at times. 

It’s funny, because his appearance can sometimes juxtapose his personality and nature so much, that any one else would think of him as a soft young man with a charming smile and sweet eyes. 

If they only knew. 

“Listen, I really want to apologize for last night. I-I should have respected not only your wishes, but your privacy above all.” 

You take a deep breath, some of the blood returning to your face as you finally get your initial statement out into the open. 

He doesn’t reply for a few minutes, which should freak you out, but instead honestly gives you more time to breath properly before he finally does. 

“I honestly don’t know if you are an imbecile, or just human. Did you not hear what was going on? Did you just decide to barge in anyways despite specific instruction to never enter my room?”

Despite his words being venomous, his voice is eerily calm. Still, you hate how it’s making you stammer over your own words, how it’s making you feel inferior in a way that's unlike any other.

“T-That's the thing, I didn’t know what I was hearing exactly-” he cuts you off, whipping around to face you with both of his palms flat on top of the granite countertop. A gasp passes your lips as his wicked gaze meets your meek one, your eyes instinctively flicking to his chest as to avoid his malevolent stare.

“Oh I’m sorry, was the please Jungkook don’t stop, not a clear enough of an indication?!” 

At his voices rise in octave, you find yourself shuddering, trying to fight back the tears that burn the back of your throat. You don’t want him to see you cry, that's the last thing you;d ever want, in fact. For people like him, you feel as if it will only give them more of a reason to call you weak. 

“Cat got your tongue?” he spits as you fail to respond. It’s only a few more moments before you manage to find your voice 

“You know what I really heard before I barged in? What I thought was crying. And for a moment all I could see was an image of you, ripping some innocent girls throat out. For the first time, I was scared of you. Terrified, even.” 

His countenance twists into one of disgust and confusion, as if you’ve just used a slur. 

“And the worst part is that, after I realized I was wrong, I felt awful. Awful for going against your rules, awful for thinking you could ever do something like that. But the more I think about it, the more I realize that I wasn’t too far off the mark. Turns out you don't have to rip some ones throat out in order to be a vile person. I will be out of your hair by next week.”

He’s stunned, for the first time in a long time as you scoot away from the counter while wiping your cheeks free of the tears that spilled from your eyes, hopping off of the bar stool and disappearing into your room. 

He feels odd. No, he feels sick, if this is even what sick feels like. He can’t really remember the last time he felt like this, like if he had a beating heart, it would be bleeding out. Ok, that's dramatic, but he can’t explain it any other way. 

He doesn’t care if he hurts you, right? No. He does care, that's why he feels like this, right? You have never even shown an ounce of fear towards him, yet you were actually scared last night? Of him? 

No. No. This doesn’t feel right. You are Y/N, with an annoying bright smile and sweaters that are two times two large for your frame and who always manages to annoy him to the highest degree with your loud ass laughing whenever you’re watching Brooklyn 99. 

In fact, he actually remembers being pissed off at first, at the fact that you never even batted an eye at anything he did that showcased his vampiric characteristics. He is a monster, he feeds on your kind. 

Why are you acting as if he is just like anyone else? 

Some where deep inside, Jungkook wanted you to see him as evil. That's what he’s thought of himself for an entire century. 

But having you cry because of him, admit that you were terrified, to see a dark cloud of sorrow above your head; it doesn't feel as satisfying as he thought it would. In fact, it doesn't feel good at all. It feels like it’s shredding his insides. 

What the fuck are you doing to him, and how does he make this right?

[mss4msu]

“Do I Wanna Know?” (Chapter 1)

Summary: On a visit to a local nightclub, the lounge singer catches your eye. Soon becoming a regular at the club, the way you look on the dancefloor gets his attention. You begin to hear stories about the notorious crime lord who owns and operates the small nightclub. When your friends worry that you’ve gotten mixed up with a mobster, you wonder if it’s better to be left in the dark and find yourself asking, “Do I wanna know?” if you’re getting involved with one of the most revered mobsters in the city.

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky x Reader

Words: 2041

A/N: I went to an Arctic Monkeys concert and the lead singer had serious Seb GQ shoot vibez and I decided I needed a gangster fic featuring Arctic Monkeys songs so here it is. The fic (and this chapter specifically) are inspired by “Do I Wanna Know?”

Read the Full Story Here

The song in this chapter can be listened to here

“Come on, (Y/N), let’s gooooo!” your best friend, Jess, banged on the bathroom door.

“Give me one sec, I’m almost done!” you called back, applying one more coat of mascara and a last layer of red lipstick. You swung open the door of the bathroom.

“Dayyuumm!” Jess yelled at you, looking you up and down. You had chosen to wear your simple black dress that really accentuated your cleavage. “Alright, let’s go, Rachel’s meeting us there and we’re gonna be late because you took so long getting ready.”

“Oh, shut up,” you grabbed your purse off its hook, checking that your keys and wallet were inside and adding your phone. “How are we getting there?”

“I forgot you never go out,” Jess laughed at you, “I looked it up and the bus that stops right outside your place runs by it, so we’ll take that there and then grab a ride-share back here?”

“And why can’t we just take your car?”

“Because I don’t want to drive, because this place has the cheapest drinks in the area, so you know I’m going all in on those.”

“But the police just issued that new warning about public transportation at night….” you nervously replied. You had been reading through the newspaper this morning and seen that the mob activity in your area was increasing and the police were warning pedestrians to avoid particular bus routes, such as the one in front of your apartment, to cut down on potential innocent involvement.

“I’ve taken this exact bus route to this club before and I’ve survived. Plus, as long as we get on the bus now, there’s enough light that it shouldn’t be a problem. Now, come on, the bus gets here in 6 minutes and I don’t want to miss it and half to wait another 30.”

You didn’t bother arguing with her, and just followed her to the bus stop. You boarded the bus and couldn’t help but look anxiously around until Jess hit you to stop. She began chatting with you about meaningless things to keep your mind off the idea that mobsters could take over the bus at any minute.  

“Alright, this is our stop,” Jess said, grabbing your hand and pulling you off the bus.  You followed her like a lost puppy. You knew you could trust her, but your irrational side was terrified that mob guys were behind every corner and hidden in every shadow. You didn’t even know what a mob guy would look like, but you were terrified of them anyway.

You got to the door of the club and gave your IDs to the doorman. He seemed to linger on your ID longer than he did on Jess’s, but eventually he gave you a nod and opened the door for both of you to enter. A hostess met you inside the door and led you to the only open table in the very front of the dark club. With only dim candles to provide you light, you could hardly read the drink menu.

“(Y/N), stop trying to read that menu. Even your cheap ass can afford a drink here. There’s literally nothing over 10 dollars,” Jess snapped at you. “Rachel’s here!” She waved towards the door trying to catch Rachel’s eye in the dark room.

“Good luck getting her to see you. I don’t think I could even find my purse in here if I took it off.”

“Stop being a grump,” she told you as Rachel got to the table.

“Hey! (Y/N)! I can’t believe Jess got you to leave the house on a Friday for once! To what do we owe the honor?” Rachel asked you, sitting down.

“I had a long fucking week with Mr. Stark and I needed a night out,” you replied. When you were hired as Tony Stark’s personal assistant you had thought it would be a glamorous job full of cocktail hours and million dollar deals that you would take notes on; instead it was a whole lot of getting coffee, picking up dry cleaning, and late nights ensuring his many employees were properly scheduled for their work shifts. For whatever reason, Stark’s business had a high turnover of employees, so you had to continually update the schedule.

The waiter came to your table to take your orders. As you couldn’t read the menu, you simply asked for the cheapest thing that contained alcohol. Just a few minutes later a tallboy of PBR was placed in front of you. You downed it as the waiter gave Jess and Rachel their drinks, giving you a chance to order another.

“Damn, (Y/N)! I don’t even want to tell you to slow down!” Jess said.

“Yaaasss girl! This is gonna be a good night!” Rachel chimed in.

You caught up with both of them and learned all about their love lives and their work struggles. As your life basically revolved around Tony Stark, you didn’t have much to add to the conversation.

“Alright, It’s almost 9:00! (Y/N), get ready to see one of THE hottest men you have ever laid your eyes on!” Jess told you excitedly.

“I thought we came for the cheap drinks?” you asked confused.

“The cheap drinks are an added bonus, the lounge singer is the main event,” Rachel told you. “This man has the voice of an angel and the face of one too.”

“Alright, this was definitely a good night to come out then!” you replied, finishing your second beer and beginning to feel a buzz.

The lights on the stage came up, and a silence fell over the crowd. The curtain opened and you saw a tall, muscular man in a well-fitting suit standing behind a microphone, joined on the stage by a bass, a piano, and a drummer.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage, The White Wolf and The Howlers,” an announcer voice said from somewhere off-stage. Applause filled the club.

“A one, a two, a one, two, three, four,” the man at the microphone, whom you assumed was ‘The White Wolf’, counted in with snaps. The drums began and the bass and piano joined in to create the beat. The White Wolf swayed side to side, feeling the music. He began to sing:

Have you got colour in your cheeks? Do you ever get the fear that you can't shift the type That sticks around like summat in your teeth? Are there some aces up your sleeve? Have you no idea that you're in deep? I’ve dreamt about you nearly every night this week How many secrets can you keep? 'Cause there's this tune I found That makes me think of you somehow And I play it on repeat Until I fall asleep Spilling drinks on my settee

You most certainly did have color in your cheeks as you audibly gulped, looking at Jess and Rachel. They quietly laughed at your response and Rachel whispered, “told ya!” in you ear. You could not believe how incredibly handsome this man was and couldn’t figure out how his voice could sound so smooth and yet slightly (and very sexily) raspy at the same time. Everything about him was perfect and you turned your attention back to him, not wanting to ever part your eyes from his face.

(Do I wanna know?) If this feeling flows both ways? (Sad to see you go) Was sorta hoping that you'd stay (Baby, we both know) That the nights were mainly made For saying things that you can't say tomorrow day

Crawling back to you Ever thought of calling when you’ve had a few? ‘Cause I always do Maybe I’m too busy being yours to fall for somebody new Now I’ve thought it through Crawling back to you

If you didn’t know better, you could’ve sworn that his eyes were locked on your just as tightly as yours were on him. It sent a tingling feeling through your stomach and up your spine.

So have you got the guts? Been wondering if your heart’s still open And if so, I wanna know what time it shuts Simmer down and pucker up I’m sorry to interrupt, it’s just I’m constantly on the cusp Of trying to kiss you I don’t know if you feel the same as I do We could be together if you wanted to

Now you knew he was staring at you as he mocked a kiss in your direction, causing Jess and Rachel to squeal. You had always laughed at those old romantic stories of women swooning, but you were convinced you could swoon any minute, as you were suddenly feeling very hot.

(Do I wanna know?) If this feeling flows both ways? (Sad to see you go) Was sorta hoping that you'd stay (Baby, we both know) That the nights were mainly made For saying things that you can't say tomorrow day

Crawling back to you Ever thought of calling when you’ve had a few? ‘Cause I always do Maybe I’m too busy being yours to fall for somebody new Now I’ve thought it through Crawling back to you

(Do I wanna know?) If this feeling flows both ways? (Sad to see you go) Was sorta hoping that you'd stay (Baby, we both know) That the nights were mainly made For saying things that you can't say tomorrow day

(Do I wanna know?) Too busy being yours to fall (Sad to see you go) Ever thought of calling, darling? (Do I wanna know?) Do you want me crawling back to you?

The lights on the stage went out and the curtains closed.

“What I wouldn’t give to have him crawling back to me right now,” you moaned to Jess and Rachel, causing them to both giggle. “Is that it? He just does one?” You were practically begging him back on stage.

“He always opens the night and then a few other acts come on and then he closes the show,” Jess told you.

“Holy shit, he was amazing,” you gushed.

“Yeah, he never disappoints,” Rachel replied.

You motioned for the watier to come to your table, “Dear sir, another round for the three of us on me in honor of my introduction to this very fine,” you looked at the stage, “establishment!”

The waiter brought you the drinks and you slid him a large tip, feeling extra generous now that you had been blessed by the voice of the angelic White Wolf. The rest of the night dragged on as you waited for the White Wolf to return to the stage for his closing act.

“Ok, this should be him up next!” Jess told you.

Your heart started racing as the curtain closed as the group currently on the stage finished.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we regret to announce that The White Wolf and The Howlers have been called away to another gig. Our closing act for this evening will now be The Freightcars!”

“What the fuck!” You immediately covered your mouth, not meaning to swear out loud, but you had had 2 drinks too many and couldn’t control your language.

Jess and Rachel laughed. Rachel pulled out her phone to order a ride-share to pick you up.

“Come on, (Y/N), let’s get you home,” Jess grabbed your arm and helped you up, steering you towards the door.

The ride back to your apartment was filled with you gushing about how incredibly hot you thought the White Wolf was and how you needed to have him in your life. Jess and Rachel fed your obsession, trying to help you find him on social media. They successfully found the band’s Instagram page and you immediately liked it and in a drunken haze liked every single photo they had ever posted.

“Rachel, Jess, thank you for a wonderful evening that has changed my life forever. Same time next week?” You asked, unlocking your door and hugging them goodbye before they went to Jess’s car.

“Sure thing!” Rachel replied, laughing.

“I’m glad we’ve found something that’ll get you out of the house and away from the office!” Jess giggled, getting in the car.

You laid in bed scrolling through The White Wolf and The Howlers’ Instagram until you fell asleep.

CHAPTER TWO

[this-basic-witch]

Which fan fic should I write?

Nanowrimo is days away but I really don’t want to get back to the novel I’m supposed to be finishing. So...procratination fan fic time! But, I can’t decide what to write:

1. Dragon Age Inquisition: Bart Trevelyan thought he was done with The Chantry after being kicked out of Templar training seven years ago for...reasons. Until his mercenary company is hired to play bodyguards at The Conclave. Ariel Lavellan is the First of Clan Lavellan, but she seems more interested in digging around ruins and hoarding various junk human travellers leave behind than the duties of a Keeper. When she’s sent to spy on the mage-templar negotiations she jumps at the chance to glimpse the human world for herself. Neither are meant to be leaders, yet that is exactly what they must become when they emerge from the rumble with the answer to Thedas’s salvation burned into their hands...

So yeah, this would be a story with 2 Inquisitors with the power of the mark split between them so they have to work to together to seal rifts. Oh, and Adaar will show up as Bart’s merc boss and become the glamazon girlfriend Blackwall always wanted. Also, Trevelyan/Cassandra and Lavellan/Solas action (or they could end up with each other who knows haven’t planned that far ahead).

2. Dragon Age 2 Modern AU: For years now barman Varric has been scrapping pennies to try to buy The Hanged Man from its absentee owner and finally run it the way he wants. Lin Hawke is a wannabe comedian/musician/ ‘I don’t know it’s like...Flight of the Condors...sorta’ trying to turn her past as a Blight veteran and Feralden refuge into something more funny than painful. After seeing her perform on The Hanged Man’s open mic night Varric ropes her into his latest get rich quick scheme with the promise of becoming her manager and giving her top billing every night when he owns the place. But another regular, a mysterious must-probably-a-con-woman known to patrons only as Isabela, threatens to put a spanner in the works when her troubles follow back to the bar...

This’ll start out as an off-beat romantic comedy with Hawke/Isabela as the main ship, evolving into a crime drama as the events of the game play out in some kind of modern equivalent. I have not idea if I can write the jokes/songs that’ll be needed for Lin’s performances, but I do love her character and this AU version of her.

3. Mass Effect: The only joy Marlene Shepard got out of life after her father died in the First Contact War and her mother uprooted them from Texas to take a job on the Citadel was joyriding in rich people’s cars, throwing empty beer cans off high places, and telling C-Sec where to shove it. Especially some stick-up-his ass Turian rookie, who seemed to make it his personal mission to put an end to her D-Grade delinquency. 14 years, a stint in military school, and one weird run-in with a Prothean beacon later, Marlene’s path crosses with the now more experienced and jaded Officer Varkarian once again. Can they put their past aside long enough to help each other, or is that past just the connection they need to get through all that is to come?

So yeah, a Shakarian fic with a chapter or two set before the events of the game and following the canon after that (except maybe at the very end cause you know why).

4. TMNT 2003: Galaphenia had been fascinated by Earth ever since her people discovered a decades-old probe sent out by the planet with videoes of all the wonderful music and art humanity had created. But it all seemed like a fantasy world to her, especially after the harsh realities of having to flee her own planet when The Federation invaded to some backwater system, losing all her family except her older sister in the process. That is until four strange green teens showed up claiming to be from that legendary place. She and her sister agree to use the skills that helped them escape The Federation the help the brothers do the same on the condition they get to come back home with them. But when Gal arrives there, without the last of her family, she’s met by an Earth that is nothing like those visions of the past, a place that is not ready to meet an alien like her. Instead, she must live in a world of shadows beneath it all with the mutants that bought her there, and things don’t any easier when she finds herself being drawn closer to their leader...

Yeah...I’m gonna be honest here, this one is more me trying to appease the 12-year-old me after I nostalgically binge-watched my favourite show last month than anything else. I’m pretty content keeping this one to myself but who knows, there must be some reason this idea has rattled around in my brain for 10 years, and there’s an audience for everything. Anyway, it’ll pick up at the start of the Turtles In Space arch from the second series and follow the main storylines from there with that shoehorned canon character/OC melodrama we love.

Do any of these sound not horrible?

[jbsargent]

Romantic Relationship Day - Kiss Goodnight [Original Fic Fest]

Another day to share something for @originalficfest , this time it’s Romantic Relationships Day! I’m hoping a one-sided, unrequited love might still suffice! This is a short story of the love a candle feels for the young lady whose life it lights up. I thought about doing just a small sample of it, but I like it too much. You can read this and other stories on my blog, if you’re so inclined.

***

I’m stuck wherever I’m placed, but where I’m placed is always important. I came into this world with a spark from a cigarette lighter, pulled out of a womb of plastic and cardboard, set down in a small, tin wax catcher to sit on an end table. I had a perfect view of the festivities.

“Happy birthday, Hannah.”

“Thanks, bro.”

The den was full, standing room only. People gathered around a young blond woman, who sat in front of a white cake, speared with thin, colorful candles that ran the spectrum of the rainbow. “Can I blow them out now?” she asked, shifting in her chair.

“No, no way. We gotta sing.”

Everyone laughed before taking in big gasps of air. They belted out a song, and I danced about, my back against the wall. Shadows danced with me, on the walls behind their owners. We had our own little party, me and my projected friends. Hannah blew out her candles, and people cheered, as if she had completed some great feat, or more likely because they could eat. Someone set a stack of small paper plates and a knife onto the table, and murmurs rumbled through the collective about how good the cake looked. Hannah’s brother leaned in, setting a hand on the birthday girl’s shoulder.

“Hey…where’s Terry?” he whispered.

Hannah’s eyes jumped around the room before settling on an empty plate. She turned her head slightly to her brother. “I don’t know Mart.”

The subject had been dropped when someone passed her a plate with a slice of cake. As the night went on, people laughed as I continued to sway, until someone asked to turn the lights back on. The den light outshined me in an instant, flooding the rooms with fluorescent light, as it tended to do in its quick and brilliantly showy nature. The shadows I cast were minimal now, limited to the curios on the end table with me. I watched as Hannah mingled, lithely sweeping through the room to have small conversations about how “We should hang out more,” and “What a lovely place you have here.”

The night grew later, and I grew a bit shorter. People began wrapping themselves in coats and scarves to brave the cold Midwestern evening. You could smell the crispness whenever someone opened the door. The home cleared out quickly, and it was just Hannah, me, and Mart.

“You want me to stay for a bit?” Mart said as he slowly shoved his hands in his pockets, watching Hannah shuffle away from the door.

“No,” the girl sighed, gathering up plates from their resting places, conceived out of pure laziness. “I’ll be fine. I think I just want to spend some time alone.”

“You shouldn’t have to. Why wasn’t Terry here, like, at all?”

Hannah dashed by me, and for a moment I was caught up in her swiftness. She stopped at the trashcan at the end of the counter, dumping her refuse into its open mouth. “Wish I could tell you Mart.”

“Going out for like three months and he can’t show up for your birthday? Swell guy.”

“Might not be for much longer.” Hannah grabbed a scarf from the rack near the door, and swung it around the back of Mart’s neck. “I’m a big girl – I can take care of myself.”

“Alright then, just…keep me posted,” Mart slid his arms into his coat and turned to the door. “Don’t leave that candle burning. You wanna set your new house on fire?”

“Yeah yeah, get going. Drive safe.”

Mart closed the door quietly behind him. It was just her and me now. Hannah took a deep breath, setting her hands on the end of the counter as she stared off at nothing.

I’m sorry Hannah. I’m here though. Just…notice me.

Hannah looked my way, and I swayed to get her attention. Her head tipped to one side, and her shoulders sank as she drifted away into thought. Her cell phone rang, and she checked the display. She let it ring for what felt like a year, we could have celebrated another birthday.

“Hello?” she answered. “Yeah. No, everyone’s gone already.” She listened for a moment. “No, I want to be alone tonight.”

Oh, you want to be alone.

“Don’t bother. Good night.”

Hannah clapped her phone shut with one hand and threw it into the room, onto the couch next to me. She continued to clean up, and I just flickered. When she was done, she shut off the lights to the kitchen and noticed my light brightening up the room again. She walked over to the end table and bent down, looking at me. I could see myself dancing in her eyes.

Don’t worry about it, Hannah.

Her hand reached up behind my head, and she pursed her lips. My first kiss goodnight.

~

The next time I woke, it was just Hannah and me. I flickered and danced, my light bouncing off the bevelled tiles on the bathroom walls. She set a smoking match down onto my tin base, and then turned away, sinking deeper until water reached up to her bare shoulders. She let out a relieved sigh, brushing the water up onto her collar, the thin sheen reflecting my light on her soft neck. Seems it was a time for relaxing, and I figured that would be fine.

Let’s just enjoy a night to ourselves, Hannah. You deserve it.

Hannah dried her fingers on a towel draped over the edge of the tub, and then she lifted an open book from a tray next to her. Her head leaned back against the wall, and she raised the book to my light. Over our time together, Hannah’s legs swept up from under the water’s surface before slinking back down, leaving one knee, glimmering with a watery veil, just above the water. She swept through the pages of her book with the blade of her finger.

Are you liking the book? I don’t read as fast as you, so I only catch some of what’s going on, but I like what I do get to read. Heh, sorta sounds my like my life – I spend it sleeping so much of the time, only getting to see you and what’s going on when you need my light. I don’t mind though, coming out for special things likes birthdays, dinners, love-making sessions, and relaxing bath times. I get to be there for the fun. But Hannah, I hope things go well for you when I’m not there to give you my warmth.

In some respects, it was strange to see her like this. Hannah was surrounded by people, but seemed distressed about one person that wasn’t there. Now, though, she was happy, relaxed even. I hope she can hold onto that feeling.

~

I woke up to Can’t Let You Go by Matchbox Twenty playing from the speakers in the cabinet. Hannah was rushing around with her usual swiftness, the hem of a floral skirt following closely behind her. I caught a glimpse of my form in wine glasses on either side of me. The oven beeped, and Hannah darted back across the dining room. She cursed under her breath trying to put oven mitts on when her cell phone rang. She wrestled a dish off of the top rack and set it on the stovetop, pulling the mitts from her hands as she made her way to the table, where her phone sat, ringing.

“Hey, are you almost here?” Hannah answered. She leaned against the table, her hip pressing on the edge. “What? Stephen…”

I’ve heard that tone before. Her weight shifted, her nice skirt bunching up on the table.

“That’s not fair. We’ve had this night planned for a week.”

That phone, it’s nothing but bad news Hannah.

“No, fine. Whatever. Have a good night.”

Hannah clapped her phone shut, and clenched it in a trembling hand. She slapped it down onto the table, and the silverware clanked as it hopped on the wood.

Oh, Hannah.

The girl pushed off the table, grabbing one of the plates as she left. After a few moments, she returned with a plate full of vegetables and a marinated chicken breast. The smell was delightful, us fires, you see, we do good work. She poured herself some wine, and my bright form was more pronounced against the red in the glass. She left the bottle unstopped as she set it down, and then sliced into her chicken breast, my light glaring off the blade of her knife.

You seem upset, again.

I flickered, and she glanced at me as she took a bite of her dinner. She exhaled sharply as she chewed, and it almost blew me away.

Careful, I’ll stay as long as you want me to.

Hannah ate the rest of her dinner in silence, every once in a while checking her phone and tapping on the number pad. Sending passive-aggressive messages, if her expression was any indication. By the end of her meal, her nerves had calmed considerably, but she didn’t have that same content look to her like before. She set her fork down on her plate in such a way that it produced no sound. She looked at me again, and sighed.

See, I’m still here. I haven’t disappointed you, have I?

Hannah leaned toward me, cradling my swaying form in her cupped hand. I saw myself swinging in her eyes, but they trembled as tears formed.

Don’t cry, Hannah.

She blew me another kiss.

~

“Yeah, the power is out in the whole neighborhood,” Hannah said, speaking into the phone pinched between her ear and shoulder.

She shook her hand, putting out the match and tracing a thin ribbon of smoke through the air. My light was the only in the room, or even in the house for that matter. Rain battered against the window, tiny wet fingers tapping against the glass in indiscriminate waves.

“It’s okay. I’ll just read here with a candle. The power will probably come back on before I wake up.” Hannah set the pitch-tipped stick on my tin base, before sitting down in the couch next to me.

Things seemed much more different in this dark than they did in the dark of the birthday party. Hannah was the only one in the house, and I was the sole light source. I was responsible for all shadows that swayed on the walls. It seemed like a monumental task, but I felt more than up for it; I was still tall, still bright.

Just the two of us, right? We’re not waiting on anyone else?

“No, he’s gone - we’re done.” Hannah replied.

Done? So you’re alone then. Are you upset?

“No…y’know, it’s good. It’s better that I spend some time being happy with myself.”

You think so?

“Yeah. I should focus on myself.”

That’s a good idea, Hannah.

Hannah turned her head and watched me sway in the dark. “Yeah, I can’t keep clinging to garbage relationships just to have someone there. I’ve noticed I’m a lot less stressed when I’m alone.”

Alone with your candlelight, right?

“Yeah, exactly.” Hannah chuckled. “It’s better this way, for now at least.”

That’s great to hear.

“No, no I won’t burn the house down. I’ll talk to you later. Have a good night, bro. Stay dry.” Hannah closed her phone and let it drop into her lap.

She reached forward to the table in front of her, sliding a small, hardcover book into her hands. A flash of light outshined mine from the window for a brief moment, before relinquishing the darkness back to me. Hannah turned her head from her book and looked out the window, the night and the rain making the outside a glossy black. She began to count, whispering the numbers with a timely pause between. By the count of eight, a low growl moved over the house, rattling the window in its sill. Hannah nodded, turning back to her book.

“We’re gonna be here for a while,” Hannah said, looking at me.

We? I danced happily. That’s fine, we’ll just relax here.

The sound of the rain was soothing, mixed with the intermittent flaps of the pages Hannah turned. Thunder continued sparingly, and Hannah ignored the lightning, keeping her attention to the book. It was nice, not having to worry about a call from someone to disappoint her, I was happy to see her in genuine contentment, after the trouble at the end of her birthday, as well as the trouble before her dinner.

It wasn’t long before Hannah had fallen asleep, her open book resting on its pages on her chest. The rain had subsided, all I could hear was her breathing. In this darkness, there truly was nothing but her and me. I had grown shorter, there wasn’t much left of me now. My wick was on its last inches, the oil of my wax drying up. I flickered.

Hannah, it looks like I’ll be going soon. I’m sorry to leave you, but at least we got to spend time together without that phone of yours disappointing you. I suppose, in a way, I’m just like those boyfriends – we had some good times, but in the end I’ll be leaving, sure as the sun rises in the morning. At least with me, you knew I wouldn’t be around forever. Even then, I never let you down, and I enjoyed this time with you. I shouldn’t have cared so much about getting your attention. I should have realized that I was important enough just because you chose to have me there. My existence, though short-lived like all lives, is brilliant in its own small way.

Hannah turned in her sleep, her head leaning toward the end table where I sat. Down to the last of my wick, smothered in melted wax, my fire shrank. Yet, as my light disappeared, sunlight began to pour into the living room from the front window. A small beam moved between the branches of the tree in the front yard, and landed across Hannah’s lips. The tip of my wick dulled from orange to black, a silver ribbon of smoke rising from it, swaying like a hand waving farewell.

Good night.

***

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it, and let me know what you think!

[reluming]

writer asks - 1, 2, 8, 10, 15, 29.........

thank you mer! already answered 10, so here’s the rest.

1. Describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic.

a character reflects on their feelings. they have so many feelings. they interact with another character who is the focus of most of these feelings, and the two characters sit around and talk to each other about their feelings. they fuck, preferably while also still talking about their feelings. they just don’t know when to shut up!!! the ending is incredibly sappy or at least sweetly hopeful. there is not even the slightest hint of a plot anywhere in sight.

2. Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to?

i’ve yet to write an afterlife fic despite the fact that i love afterlife fics. one day!! i started one about miranda once when i thought thomas was also dead, but unfortunately that’s been jossed. 

8. Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

“I didn’t really have any idea just how scary you were,” Silver said, his fingers tugging at strands of hair on James’ nape.

“You must have heard the stories,” James said.

“Stories are just stories, aren’t they?” Silver said. “They say all sorts of things that aren’t true.”

“And then you discovered they were true,” James said. “That I was as terrifying as they say.”

“More terrifying,” Silver said. “None of the stories could have prepared me for the way I felt around you. The way I feel. If you really were a dragon, I would let you devour me. That’s the most terrifying thing. How I looked at you and I didn’t want to run. I said I wanted freedom from you. But all the unending horrors in the world that I have encountered, they all have pleasant facades. They lure you in with promises of sanctuary and refuge and love, and then they blow out the candles and their claws come out. But you. You were the first thing in my life that announced itself as a horror, promised nothing but darkness, and then revealed itself to be so much more. So filled with light that I saw myself as the only shadow in contrast. I didn’t want freedom from you.” He swept back the locks of hair that hung in James’ face. “I wanted freedom from myself. You were right. There is freedom in the dark, and I need you—I need you to illuminate me so that I don’t feel like a shadow of a person anymore.”

He untied the knot of James’ cravat and kissed James’ jaw.

“You are not a shadow,” James asserted, grasping the front of Silver’s shirt. “You were the brightest thing to come into my life in a decade. My whole world was white with grief, and you were the prism that made it full of colour again. Every hue of light I saw, I saw it through you.” He kissed Silver’s mouth hard, his tongue slipping into Silver’s mouth, his hand under Silver’s shirt. He ground down into Silver’s lap, and they bit their gasps from each other’s lips. “You are as necessary to me as that page was to the log. You have always been necessary to me. I couldn’t have done any of it without you.”

from inhale, exhale, and reset

oh GOD i was just randomly searching through my fics for something to help me answer this question because i don’t think of myself as good at writing dialogue and it’s not something that stays in my mind after i write it. and then i stumbled upon this and i started making noises of agony. i love how fucking intense silver is in this, and how i stumbled upon a grain of insight as i was writing it, which is that in a life of unending horrors, flint really is the only thing silver’s ever experienced that walks around openly flaunting and advertising its own monstrosity, and then reveals so much hidden wonder and softness and devotion, rather than the other way round.

and then ughhhhhhh flint just being super fucking cheesy and romantic. anyway this passage gives me a lot of emotions and i’m v glad i wrote it.

15. If you could choose one of your fics to be filmed, which would you choose?

it’s just you and the moon on my skin

WEREWOLF FLINT!!!!!!!!!! VAMPIRE SILVER!!!!! how could it be any other fic tbh

29. If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

i can’t really come up with a good answer to this one. i’ve always wanted to write something that would be sorta kinda like a sequel to never let me go by kalimero, but not exactly a sequel to that fic (which is so beautiful). more just a maxanne story where jack is dead and max and anne have to move forward with their lives without him. but it’s too painful for me to even consider!

questions for fic writers

[zonerz]

All of the questions for the shipping thing 😈

AAAAAAAAA Im gonna d i e I hope ur happy abt this long post u dork

Talk about the first ship you ever had.Dang dude,,,,,,, makin me think,,,,,, I suppose it was Jay and Nya from Ninjago?? I thought they were cute but wasnt like SUPER into it, the other one that I was into was me shipping an “OC” with Lloyd L m a oTalk about three of the most important ships throughout your life.Three most important? Uhhhh idk abt important exactly, like idk what the whole requirements for one being more important than another would be. Though, the main one that always makes me happy, no matter the circumstance, is McHanzo. Idk what it is about it but it always makes me smile and helped cheer me up plenty of times throughout the year hahaWhat’s your current OTP?McHanzo or Sonadow tbhWhat’s your current NOTP?shi//ma//da//cestDo you have any poly ships?Yes with some of my OCs!!How do you feel about love triangles?They CAN be done right but most of the time im just over here like, ‘UGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH No one c a r e s’How do you feel about RPF?Idk what that stands for 3Have you ever shipped yourself with a character?Not myself, but my OCs. Tho I suppose my first ever OC was very similar in looks so I suppose partiallyDo you have many ships that never got together at all?Lmao yeah man, most people seem to forget that McHanzo started out as a crack ship hahaDo you ship any characters that have never met?See the previous statementTalk about your favorite first kiss.Wonderbat in the Starcrossed episode. It was gr8 man. Kissing to blend in with the crowd.Have you ever been disappointed when your ship finally got together?The Nya-Jay-Cole love triangle was forced and stupid. LETTHEMBEHAPPY–Has a ship ever broken your heart?HAVE YOU EVER READ UNDER THE WISTERIA TREE? IVE NEVER BEEN SO EMOTIONAL OVER A FIC. I SOBBED FOR A GOOD HOUR AFTERWARDS MANHow do you feel about will they/won’t they?I think it depends on the material, like Wonderbat in JL was a good one cause we still got content for it here and there but it was never ‘official’ but it wasnt relentlessly teased at teither, it wasnt a main focus nor dragged down the show. It was acceptable cuz they were also, yknow superheroes and Bruce isnt the type of character to just suddenly settle down

But otherwise I think it can get really annoying and unnecessary if done wrongHave you ever “shipped at first sight”?Yeah lolTalk about a ship you initially disliked.Im p sure I used to be p decently opposed to Sonadow at first, because at the time I was super into Sonamy (which I’ll talk abt laterrr) though I learned more of the reasoning behind it and was like ‘oh! This is p decent’ and since Ive re-entered the Snoc fandom, Ive sorta reanalyzed my ships and looked into what real chemistry co9uld be there and frankly I just think that Sonadow has a lot of working potential, it reminds me of how I felt about McHanzo at first; They have a lot of working potential and thats what I love building off of. They have the potential to work really well together because the balance each other’s personalities and senses out (Shads bringing a sense of realism and Sonic bringing a lightheartedness) and neither has to worry about the other getting into trouble/hurt/being used against them because they’re both extremely capable of handling themselves. The difference between them and a ship like Mchanzo though is that they’ve already previously worked together and interacted on multiple occasions.

Im sorry I just have a LOT to say abt the ships I love ha h a–Also Ive noticed I have a tendacy to like ships where the partners balance each other?? God im predictableTalk about a pairing you’ve stopped shipping romantically.Sonamy has sort’ve dropped off the radar for me (except in Boom and maybe in X) at least in a more serious regard. Idk how to quite get how I feel into words r i pTalk about a moment which made you question an entire ship.I was actually watching a DHT (I think thats his name idk im tired lol) Top ten abt his personal opinions on ships? Cuz I like hearing other people’s opinions and point of views!! And I mean idk his points with Sonamy were really true and while I still think Sonamy is really cute and has gotten a bit less violent in recent years, the negatives at this point are sortve outweighing the positives atm imo? So it was just kinda like ‘huh. Thats tru’Have you ever shipped something despite yourself?No..? Idk if Im exactly understanding the question but if its asking if I still shipped smth even if it was against my morals? Then a definite no, if its nasty, its nasty imoTalk about a ship you feel alone in shipping.Wonderbat fandom where r u??Is there a ship you just don’t get, but have nothing against?The only ones I can really think of are Shadilver and Sonouge?? :00 Im just curious as to like the origin or reasoning behind the ships! I love hearing people’s reasons beyond “They look nice together” yknow? HahaWhich of your ships have the best chemistry?WONDERBATWONDERBATWONDERBATWONDERBAT–Which of your ships deserve better writing?Sonamy,,,, Jaya,,, //criesDo you mostly ship canon pairings?It depends! But a lot of times I end up soHave you ever shipped a pairing before you even started watching the show/movie simply because of gifs and graphics or similar?I probably have LMAOHave you noticed a pattern in your shipping? Is there a romantic dynamic you’re more drawn to?yEAHI like the dark broody one and the lighthearted cheery one where theyre opposite but not so much that they never get along. I like ones where its like sun and moon, where they balance each other out and both bring something to the table. Where its mutual.Is there a ship you’ve shipped for most of your life?Idk man, I didnt really have ships before I was 10 so like–Does shipping come easily to you?Somewhat, I need some good and moral reasons to ship two ppl before I turn into shipping puddy–Do you need to ship something to really enjoy a movie/book/tv show/comic?No, but if there’s a rlly good ship that I enjoy in the content then it definitely boosts how much enjoyment I get out of it hahaName a couple of fandoms in which you have no ships.I can only rlly say that for rlly obscure fandoms, like Ranger’s Apprentice. There’s also the FNAF book-verseTalk about one of your favorite headcanons for a ship you love.For Sonic and Shads I read this one thing ages ago abt Sonic teaching Shadow all the meanings each flower type and color portrays so them giving each other meaningful bouquets n shit is RLLY CUTE AND I LOVE THAT KIND OF STUFF OKAY,,,,,,Share five must-read fics.UNDER THE WISTERIA TREE IS EQUAL TO FIVE MUST READS! gO READ IT! (BUT BE PREPARED FOR TEARS AND LOTS OF THEM)Name your favorite fanartist(s).uHHHH @ludwigplayingthetrombone (Their expression are so soft,,,, n sweet,,, its so fluffy n good,,,) Share your favorite fanmix for your OTP.I dont have a favorite so just go look up some Everytime we touch PMVRecommend 1-5 shipper blogs.¯\_(ツ)_/¯Do you create fanmixes/gif sets/fanart/fic/fanvids and so on for you ships?I draw,,,, every once in a blue moon,,,,Do you have a favorite trope and/or AU for your OTP?Mutual pining and dorky fluffDo you like and use ship names?Yes!!!Is there a fictional relationship you’d really want for yourself?Nah boi Im ace lolIf you could change one thing about your OTP, what would that be?More interactions,,,, pl z ,,,,(diduknow that the “Pretty handy with that bow!” vl came out on my birthday last year?? Best gift man, thanks Blizzard, love ya)

[jpechacek]

Eldritch Princesses: Rapunzel

Previous design posts here, here, here, here, here, and here.

Ooh, an easy one: Rapunzel is locked in a tower, tons of unspeakable horrors from beyond space and time are locked away also, the connection is obvious. And because tower by itself isn’t like incredibly evocative, I thought it would be cool to head into overt reference territory and bring in some allusions to one of my favorite cosmic horror stories: At The Mountains of Madness, by our old problematic fave, H.P. Lovecraft.

I don’t think I’ve talked an awful lot about ol’ Howie Phil, at least not here, since insofar as this project has a goal or ethos, it’s “make cosmic horror safe from people like him”. Even people who haven’t encountered the genre have probably heard about what a grotesque racist and misogynist he was. And liking cosmic horror practically requires you to come to grips with how you feel about artists like him—what you’ll excuse, and what you absolutely won’t tolerate.

In stories like “The Shadow Over Innsmouth” he preaches against the dangers of miscegenation. In “The Dreams in the Witch House” and “The Thing on the Doorstep” (and with the creation of the goddess-monster Shub-Niggurath) he plays upon male fears of female power. In nearly all his stories there is a pervasive fear of non-Christian religion, specifically anything originating with people of color. And in At The Mountains of Madness, he delivers a sermon on the decadence of “advanced” civilizations, and the dangers of letting your slaves get too intelligent.

Yeah, I don’t really read Lovecraft anymore.

I discovered him when I was in college, and I was silly and thought overt racism was the only racism. The possibility of symbolism, even unconscious symbolism, in horror hadn’t occurred to me. And it didn’t help that nearly every critical work I read on Lovecraft at the time focused on his craft (lol) and devoted, at most, a few sentences to the repellent views driving it. Thus “Innsmouth” can be written about in terms of how well he sustains an action sequence. Or you can look at the experience of fear and write 1,000 words about the romantic tradition and its notion of the sublime. Or you can write about the limits of human knowledge. Anything to ensure that he’s treated more as a wacky uncle than a person perpetuating dangerous, harmful views. It wasn’t until I upped my reading comprehension skills and read criticism by anyone but straight white men that I realized just how terrible a person he was, and the extent to which that influenced his work.

If you remove At The Mountains of Madness just slightly from its context, it could be read as a quasi-Marxist warning: the Elder Things, masters of a great civilization and creators of life on Earth, are overthrown after generations of mistreating their labor class. Which, indeed, is how younger me initially saw it. But Lovecraft wasn’t thinking like that. He looked back with fondness to the days when Black people were uneducated property (significantly, the Elder Things’ mindless workers, or shoggoths, are pitch-black). He gives all his sympathy to the Elder Things but none at all to the shoggoths whom they oppressed. Masters must keep a tight leash on their slaves, and they must not educate them at all.

So what’s good about Mountains and why did I choose to reference it here? The setting. The setting is incredible: a ruined city in Antarctica, once tropical, inhabited by a vaguely crinoid race. (And, until you get to the horrible racial politics in the back half, it’s a truly creepy and gripping horror story.) That’s literally it. 

Now, I’m not here to tell anyone what to read. We all consume problematic media, because all media are problematic. But it pays to think about what you’re reading, and what it’s telling you. Who does it want you to be afraid of, and why? If the answer is “entire cultural groups, whom you can easily discern by these negative traits”, maybe find somewhere else to spend your money.

OKAY, art time. As I said above, I liked the setting of Mountains, and the whole “ancient evil lurks beyond the ken of Man” thing, so I thought “let’s put Rapunzel in a ruined tower in Antarctica”.

This early direction is more @70sscifiart, but I quickly discovered I wasn’t comfortable working in that style. It’s just a little outside my range; visually, I might be too literal a thinker to go so stylized.

In Mountains, the Elder Things are heavily aquatic; Lovecraft is known for his marine-inspired monsters. And with good reason: the ocean is a horrific hellscape. So I started looking there, specifically at corals and brittle stars, for a visual guide.

Now we’ve got a city. And two tiny little explorers there at the bottom. The setting is more fully realized: mountains (yay) and snow (yay) and huge organic structures (eek). At this point I’d also started putting more thought into Rapunzel Herself. What is She? Why is She there? Is She imprisoned, or what? It felt right to have Her tentacles not only extending down into the city, but also up off the page toward the sky. The brittle star design also recalls, if vaguely, the starry motifs in Tangled, and Her swirling tentacles sorta kinda match the lanterns spiraling into the sky. I wasn’t pushing that too hard, though, because this isn’t so much Disney’s Rapunzel as it is a distillation of all Rapunzels I’ve seen.

Finito!

You can see that I’m playing with atmosphere perspective here by using a very fine pen for the more distant structures, a heavier one for the midground, and a brush pen to give the foreground more visual weight. I like the city itself here: the lack of differentiation in the structures is an intentional choice to give it a more alien feel (again, drawing inspiration from coral here). I also like the impression that the entire city would sing in the wind like so many organ pipes. I tried to give a sense of age and ruin by having the snow drifting through those canyons, and burying some stelae near the explorers. There’s a lot more detail than is visible here, like rows of openings on Rapunzel’s tower that allow more of Her tentacles to seep through, or Her body itself, which has a ton of fine structures that you can’t really see.

And that’s Eldritch Rapunzel! I’ve already started on Snow White; as always, follow me on Instagram and Twitter for more regular process stuff. After Snow White, there’s just Tiana, and I might do Elsa just for the heck of it, but I promise nothing. See you around, and thanks for your attention and patience!

If you’re interested in reading some solid Lovecraft stuff, Tor.com is a great starting place, and the multiplicity of authors means you can chase a lot of rabbits. It’s also a good resource for Lovecraft-inspired fiction that interrogates or recasts the more disturbing aspects of his work.