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#god im going to regret this post im gonna regret it so much i can feel it in my bones

sanjisboyfie · 6 months

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one piece smau: dating ace edition

— male reader <3 i love ace so much sorry it took so long to finish this pooks

— im a firm believer that ace definitely types hehehehe and actually does giggle in real life. he's such a giggler.

liked by [l/n].ace, freeluffy, and 17k others

portgas.[name]: best part about dating ace?? his person(a)lity(rms) ❤️

tagged: [l/n].ace

[l/n].ace: damn id smash this fine mffff

-> portgas.[name]: im deleting this post u fucking narcissist

freeluffy: i still win our arm wrestles tho 🥱

roro.zoro: does [name] know he mispelt personality?

-> portgas.[name]: its something called a pun, zoro.

-> roro.zoro: well the delivery sucked i thought ur brain had an aneurysm

revo.sabo: BARRRFFFF this egotistical maniac didnt need this stroke to his ego [name]

-> portgas.[name]: trust me im regretting even dating ur silly ass brother rn

-> [l/n].ace: r u guys talking about me 🥺🥺🥺🥺

liked by portgas.[name], m4rco.polo, and 19k others

[l/n].ace: pov ur on a date with me and watching me try not to vomit all the sushi i shoved into my mouth all over the table

tagged: portgas.[name]

portgas.[name]: why r u on dates w other ppl???

-> [l/n].ace: ITS A JOKE BABY PLS

-> portgas.[name]: mhm

m4rco.polo: damn this shit sounds disgusting id never go on a date w u again if i saw this tbh

[liked by portgas.[name], eee.izo, yammyato, and 100 others]

yamayamato: r u cheating on [name] ace?

-> [l/n].ace: IT WAS A JOKE ITS AN INTERNET SAYING PLEASE

-> yamayamato: yeah well i dont think its very funny :// u should be loyal in a relationship

-> portgas.[name]: yamato <333 u were always my favorite boy ugh i love u sm 🥰

liked by portgas.[name], yamayamato, and 21k others

[l/n].ace: weekly me post bc i love me! (and my mans) 🤓😕

tagged: portgas.[name]

portgas.[name]: yeah im in there guys!!!

-> [l/n].ace: i love u hehehe u make me blush hehehehe

portgas.[name]: are u free tn? i'll take u out and treat u right ughhh

-> [l/n].ace: i got a date with my bf later tn, sorry not sorry !!!

revo.sabo: i need to mute you because i can't be seeing this shit when im in public

-> [l/n].ace: dont be ashamed that your brother is so hot wtf

revo.sabo: with all due respect, im already ashamed that hes my brother in general soooo

[liked by portgas.[name], eee.izo, and 200 others]

yamayamato: my arms are still bigger. get on my level ace HAHAHA

-> portgas.[name]: proof?

-> [l/n].ace: this is literally cheating, you're cheating on me right now. can you please stop cheating on me with yamato?

liked by [l/n].ace, portgas.[name], and 15k others

m4rco.polo: god forbid these two do anything by themselves

tagged: [l/n].ace and portgas.[name]

[l/n].ace: ur just jealous ur not in love like we are

-> portgas.[name]: agreed bc how r u gonna be like 40 and still not get any play

-> m4rco.polo: 40?????

dni_nami: i loveee them (whenever they come over they ruin the entire house and im this close to murdering them both)

-> portgas.[name]: but nami 🥺🥺🥺

-> dni_nami: no.

eee.izo: its like ace is trying to become one with him or smth, so unsettling

-> [l/n].ace: weren't you the one preaching about young love a week ago?

-> eee.izo: and now im telling u to GROW UP ace, he's not going anywhere if u let go of him for two seconds

[liked by m4rco.polo, revo.sabo, and 90 others]

liked by portgas.[name], freeluffy, revo.sabo, and 22k others

[l/n].ace: i love my snookums baby boy handsome pretty king to the moon and to saturn <3

tagged: portgas.[name]

portgas.[name]: ... i guess i love you too.

-> [l/n].ace: be more confident when u say it baby cakes

-> m4rco.polo: oh my god [name] break up with this fool already what the fuck is this

freeluffy: whats a snookums?

-> roro.zoro: don't ask luffy, you wouldn't want to know.

revo.sabo: awww what a cute post, if only ace were normal <3

[liked by eee.izo, m4rco.polo, and 100 others]

-> [l/n].ace: ????

-> portgas.[name]: im so glad we can agree on this sabo !!!

liked by eee.izo, [l/n].ace, revo.sabo, and 22k others

portgas.[name]: rare sighting of a photo of ace with his shirt on, everyone celebrate in the comments !!!

tagged: [l/n].ace

portgas.[name]: dont get me wrong hes sexy both ways but im not trying to see his nipples every where i go

-> [l/n].ace: but babe you said u liked my titties 🥺🥺🥺

-> portgas.[name]: can you not do this rn.

revo.sabo: yayyy finally he stopped being a WHORE

-> portgas.[name]: at least he can be my whore, but still i agree

-> [l/n].ace: you're the most confusing man i know

-> [l/n].ace: i love u sm hehehehe

-> revo.sabo: the way ik his ass is blushing so hard rn and kicking his feet in the air

eee.izo: thank god for that, i was getting tired of seeing him shirtles sin every single post

m4rco.polo: finally !!!

portgas.[name]'s story:

i love him A LOOOTTTTTTTT even though he's a lil freak

[l/n].ace replied to your story: when he posts you 😍😍 i love u too bby (even tho u literally cheat on me to my face with yamato but its wtv bc i love u enough to ignore it ❤️)

#≡;- ꒰ ° smau series ꒱#one piece smau #one piece modern au #one piece x male reader #x reader #x male reader #one piece imagines #ace x male reader #ace male reader #ace x reader #portgas d ace x male reader #portgas d ace x reader #ace imagines #male reader imagines #portgas d ace imagines

408 notes · View notes

vxiphoid · 10 months

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PIXELATED ZEN

❨ summary ❩ genshin › genshin men playing minecraft with you ((ft. alhaitham, itto, cyno, diluc, kazuha, kaeya, heizou, & xiao))

tags ✧ modern au, drabble, fluff, chaotic energy, not proofread, cursing, ooc(?), established relationship, gn!reader, kaeya sets a forest on fire, alhaitham does not appreciate bees, mentions of pixelated deaths

amanuensis’ message ⊹ IM NOT TRYING TO KILL MY OTHER FANDOMS I SWEAR… im gonna back up from twst for a bit (im literally posting scarabia soon.) you can clearly tell who my favorites are… this unlocked a whole different part of my brain holy shit im deceased

⌜200+ e/chara ⌟

♫ blossom - t. shan

genshin masterlist

ALHAITHAM

╰┈➤ tbh he thinks minecraft is stupid, i mean, why not read a book instead of burning the images of pixels into your eye sockets😒 yeah, he’d just rather books. its a game about blocks, what could possibly be so interesting? he will admit the music is… nice. its nostalgic even though he’s never heard the track before. his favorite animals are the axolotl idk they’re his little pookies. its their little stick arms, they look so silly… as soon as haitham found out that you could color things its over, he make some sweet things like putting a sign on top of your shared house with both initials with colored dye. he’s so happy, just not very vocal about it, but he has the smallest of smiles. he definitely has headphones with the crochet sprout on it omg😭 alhaitham does not like bees whatsoever, they stung him for trying to get food. he just wanted honey :[

“look, the dog’s collar is blue. and the sign’s letters are green and then if you add a glow squid’s ink, it lights up.”

┏━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

ARATAKI ITTO

╰┈➤ he has waited YEARS for someone to play minecraft with him omfg. certified snack hoarder for times like these. you both literally hit each other to show love, you’ve accidentally killed him once bc he didn’t tell you that he had like half a heart… itto likes the water, hates the guardians because who do you think you are attacking him out of nowhere??? gets one shotted by the elder guardian while trying to fight it with a stick and then blames it on magma blocks pulling him down. GAMING WITH HIM IS NEVER CALM GODS💀 you cannot lay on him or anything bc as soon as those cave sounds or disc 13 start playing, he’s already done sprung out of his seat. his screams are actually really funny though, you got him a cat from how much he’s been assaulted by creepers. when you introduced him to shaders, he was so in awe. “babe i have a shadow!” type of excitement JAKEJEJDMnda.

“the cat’s name is sir arataki the third, you are now my loyal guard cat. who’s an adorable little guy?”

┏━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

CYNO

╰┈➤ look at this nerd (affectionate), ofc he plays cubecraft. loved it so much that when he didn’t have the actual game, he would play the really bad knockoffs💀 plays on console so you can sit between his legs, lean back, and game with him. cyno hate the split screen because he always gets confused on what side he’s on so he lets you use his switch, that way you’re both still comfortable. he’s more of an explorer if you do get mod packs for him, likes the horror ones the most. there’s nothing like hitting the enemy or shit talking the thing that could potentially one shot you with your s/o‼️ yall crouch a lot, its like a little dance. he really likes the disc “far” it itches his brain in the right way. definitely downloads the little raccoon mobs but then regrets it because he gives up all his berries to them, look at their little begging arms, literally how can you say no to that?? AND THEY WASH THE BERRIES. you both fall asleep to the ambience and to each others breathing all cuddled up ‘n warm. cyno absentmindedly sings the music while chopping wood or mining that shit has you SLUMPED. he kisses your head when you fall asleep, smiling like a silly goober.

“do-do-do-do do-do-do-do do, neow neow neow nneow neeeowwww… huh? oh, i’m almost done then we can go to bed, yeah? i’ll charge the switch too, don’t worry. just rest.”

(he’s singing that one part in danny lmfao)

┏━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

DILUC

╰┈➤ diluc does not understand the concept of minecraft but its okay, he’s just happy to be here. he also doesn’t call it minecraft but “cave game”, the original name, he did his research though it is rare that he actually calls it minecraft. found out that you could breed animals and accidentally made a pack of wolves. diluc is really good with redstone its actually insane😭 he’s the type to protect you the whole time while you’re getting flowers for the house, boyfriend bodyguard. diluc doesn’t play much because of his job but when he does, he’s prepared to sit for hours and spend time with you :(. these are the times where he’s most affectionate, randomly kissing your cheek, getting water for the both of you before you play, etc. luc loves the mod pack “industrial”, he can build machines, how neat is that??? also it has way more OMFP with the added features it has yk? he likes the trains :D

“is the water running…? the water’s running, they have moving windmills!”

┏━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

KAEDEHARA KAZUHA

╰┈➤ kazuha has the most expensive equipment yet doesn’t use this shit half of the time unless he’s streaming with heizou??? like im talking msi infinite rs pc, multiple monitors, a graphic drawing tablet, headphones with immaculate sound quality AND!!! the ear cups have fucking cyberpunk 3d wing guards on them. but anyways, minecraft, yes, he plays. in fact, kaedehara has about 10 beaten hardcore worlds every time a new update comes out, he must beat the game again. he rarely plays minecraft without his shaders so when you want to play the original og minecraft, he doesn’t mind, he actually enjoys the nostalgia. so much so the music is actually his background music when he’s just lazing around. words cannot express how much he dislikes (hates) wardens omg. he’ll protect you from them but if there were diamonds behind a warden, ig he’s going somewhere else😭 kazuha gives you random shit, weather that be something really sweet or questionable…

“love, do you want my rotten flesh? here<3 oh! and, i also got you some steak, you’re low on hearts…”

┏━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

KAEYA

╰┈➤ he’s heard of it, watched people play, just never played it. but when he does… he’s a menace. kaeya got his hands on flint and steel and set an entire jungle on fire… but he can be sweet sometimes! you’re the one protecting his ass while he walks around at night UNARMED to gather blue flowers for you. like you’re cute, but take a shield or something😭 he’s jumped off of a tall building before and landed on half a heart for a stack of bread you didn’t want. he’s rather oblivious to the mobs around him, he once thought shulkers were friends because they were just “silly little guys in little boxes” yk until they almost killed him. you bought him his own skin and introduced him to parrots and now its his favorite animal, he looks like a pirate!!! kaeya is chaotically sweet.

“yes, you almost died protecting me but how could you resist my everlasting love plus pixelated blue flowers?”

(has a cat unironically named ice spice LMFAO)

┏━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

SHIKANOIN HEIZOU

╰┈➤ your boyfriend is good at literally anything else BUT minecraft. its the way this game constantly has it out for him too like what did bro do??🙁 heizou stream’s with kazuha every now and again and on those, he still doesn’t know what to do… he’d rather play on the servers, bedwars in particular. extremely good at bw, you’d rather NOT be his enemy😭😭 wins almost every single game even when he carries, rank 98 in the server. yet when it comes to a casual server between you and him, the chats are filled with his deaths and his hashtagged rages💀 heizou despises silverfish which is also why he hates going into strongholds, they could get stomped on for all he cares! >:( he has texture packs with really beautiful skies and then a picnic mod so he can stargaze with you and eats minecraft cake :(<3

“oh. babe, green is heading for our bed, no pressure or anything. i loovveee youuu😚”

┏━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

XIAO

╰┈➤ xiao has the MOST downloaded mod packs, shaders, and worlds. not very expensive mod packs most of the time but when they are, they’re always good. spends his time fighting off mobs at night, #1 totem holder. he even has his own custom skin!!! he’s kinda been waiting for you to ask so when you do play mc together, you already have your own room, but when you voluntarily move your bed into his room to sleep… he melts. xiao loves cuddling while the two of you play, he’d rather your arms around him than the other way around, feels more intimate. you have matching hoodies for occasions like this. he has the dragon mod pack and has his own golden and orange dragon named ‘li’. he doesn’t talk while gaming, curses silently when he gets hit, but other than that doesn’t talk. if you want to talk, he’ll listen, he likes hearing about your day :].

“no, keep talking. i’m listening. see, li’s listening too.”

778 notes · View notes

nkyslover · 8 months

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ateez as boyfies.

mar's notes! jus a whole bunch of wholesome fluff, ts my first post in AGES, b nice every1 and enjoy! <3 (this isnt THAT detailed ok, i tried my best<3). I GOT KINDA CARRIED AWAY IN WOOYOUNGS-

hongjoong . . .

he the sweetest man ever!! we luv hongjoong. hes SO perfect. he's like the man who u have an option to either get w, or regret not choosing him fo the rest of yo life. he puts sososo much effort into making u happy bc ur like, the joy in his life, his lil sunshine and he ADORES u, so much. move nights and late night cuddlin is defo his fav thing to do w u, not to mention him bringing gifts whenever he gets to see u !!

seonghwa . . .

yall know, hes literally malewife. as a bf, he would definitely make sure ur okay like allll around the clock. he cooks for u, he'd make sure u guys eat TOGETHER. he'd keep u company all the time ofc, even if he has a tough schedule he still b like "come w me :<" hes tha clingy cute perfect boyfie we all need.

mingi . . .

often he finds himself singing to u, rapping small verses or even some sentences he feels like singing, bc GOD who would even complain hearing song mingi sing? he'd let u dye his hair whatever color u'd want, often go shopping w u and spoiling u and then showing that cute grin on his face whenever he'd make u flustered infront of other people. we heart mingi, honestly.

yunho . . .

ok so hes big man right? hes tall, hes cute, hes like got the most cute and clumsy and loving personality. this man will definitely cuddle u late at night or whenever he'd come back from rehearsals or sumf. he ALWAYS finds a way to make u nervous, for example: hes taller than you so he'd cower over you when hes asking for something or wanting to sprinkle a lil bit of playfulness into the situation. the lesson is that yunho is puuuuurrrrrfect!

jongho . . .

wakes you up by humming small tunes into your ear, if your mad at that u clearly shouldnt even be thinking of that bro. flashes that smile that has you literally KICKING YOUR FEETS. its absolutely atrocious the amount of smiling this man has me actually doing whenever im watching his lil moments or something. he'd defo take loads of couple goals pictures with you, wear matching outfits. "jongho, can we buy matching beanies?" "baby buy them, you know i'll wear it anyways ^^" epitome of baby. ^^

yeosang . . .

HE BRINGS U TO GYM WITH HIM. and he even helps u with the equipment, and when after you guys go to a cute cafe to grab some food, sitting in the corner and discussing your plans together, overall deciding on staying at home all day to just do coupley things ofc. he lets u do his hair, vice verse as he likes to always play with ur hair and run his fingers through it wording "ur hair is so soft :o." no but IMAGINE OK, but i should stop before i get too carried away..

choi san . . .

another malewife. ok so like insert scenario that ur ill, havin bedrest n shi. HE DECIDED TO STAY W U ALLLLL DAY. he doesnt care if he catches the cold off u bc he js wants to b there for u because he cares and loves u sm !! hes the typa bf to surpise u in every way w bracelets, matchin stuff, makeup, and even small gifts. he js wants to see his pretty princess smilin. he also takes u to gym w him ofc, he cant even think abt not bringing u. end of convo bc im gonna get too carried away likewise w yeosangs. :(

wooyoung . . .

idk why ok but he gives off enemies to lovers typa beat. like he would be battling w u at first and then be heads over heels, and when u FINALLY get together after some plan of friends, u realise that hes literally AMAZING. yes he probably is playful, mostly probably teases alot ngl, but thats his way of showin his love. he absolutely adores u, even if u guys are havin a competition, you always get reminded u got the most loving n best boyfie in the whole wide world. ALSO bonus he buys u so many flowers ur garden is HOARDED in the amount of flowers, he gotta clean all of it up w u, giggling when he realises how cute you look when ur mad and pulls u into a kiss, eventually forgetting about the overload of pretty flowers in ur garden.

#ateez fluff #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #hongjoong fluff #seonghwa fluff #yunho fluff #choi san fluff #yeosang fluff #jongho fluff #mingi fluff #wooyoung fluff

296 notes · View notes

cult-of-the-eye · 6 months

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Mag 81 A Guest for Mr Spider

FUCK FORMER HEAD ARCHIVIST

Wait I need to check the timelines - this was 2 days after leitner's death

New spooky music???

My man is so fucking dramatic I love him so much "grand of sand behind my eye" love the way he speaks

Yeah FUCK JURGEN LEITNER

Omg the greying hair is canon??

Child in the 90s makes him at most 27 GOD DAMN. I was imagining like mid 30s...can you imagine a fucking 27 yr old using words like "ilk" when talking to you

Oh shit he's an orphan poor guy

Yeah ok a lot of his personality seems to make sense if you realise he was raised by his grandma

You know those memes that are like people raised by their grandparents are exceptionally polite but in a brisk way, talk fancy and are super posh? Yeah that's him.

Getting such neurodivergent vibes

Yeah he sounds like a main character from the start Jesus Christ he's such a kid who got traumatised and then grows up to be a horror protagonist vibes

My First Leitner lol like kids had to be introduced to them at a young age like those my first toys

He's so funny I can just imagine him as an 8 yr old getting super like affronted at this like how dare my grandma think I am of subpar intelligence he's such a little bitch from the start

"The eponymous Mr spider" even talking about his childhood trauma he's busting out the vocabulary

Fuck that story actually kinda rattled me I had my hand over my mouth in shock for most of it

I think it was the bit where the horsefly brought his son and they were both crying that got me, I could definitely imagine it scaring an 8 yr old

The way it drags out as well, with the pages of the same scene it really heightens the suspense

Is his childhood bully someone we should keep track of?? Love how he says Michael probably cause he sees him as a bully lol

It's interesting how despite him bullying him (quite badly seeing as though he beat him up) he's still like yeah but he saved my life and that means he deserves to be remembered

My bro didn't save your life on purpose, he was just trying to make it worse and happened to come to a terrible fate cause of that

I guess underneath it all he was still a kid who watched someone die, knowing they'd get eaten by a fucking spider, he still held him in some regard

The way he specified the guy was his bully even after he was being eaten though lol

He was desperate to get the book back? That's a leitner thing I guess, the book makes you want to keep it so it can finish whatever it wanted to do to you

On my relisten (which I will do once I've finished the series I'm sure of it), I'll have to look out for any reaction of leitners name

I wonder why Jon didn't react more to Carlos vittery's statement, like it must've terrified him? I saw a post a while back explaining Jon's thoughts and IT WAS GENIUS it was like of course he doesn't react, he must be terrified that someone knew about his experience and somehow did this to mess with him or it was a joke and he can't let anyone know that the Head Archivist is not Good at This ugh it's so good I'll tag it if I can find it

AHHHHH HE REGRETS DISMISSING THE OTHER STATEMENTS AHHHHHH

HE FINALLY ADMITS THAT HE NEEDS HELP WE LOVE THIS CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT YES YOU FUCKING DO BITCH.

yeah at least he's right about Elias killing leitner

GEORGIE THE EX GIRLFIEND

ITS SO WEIRD TO SEE HIM ACTUALLY NICE TO SOMEONE WOW HIS VOICE CHANGES SLIGHTLY AS WELL HES LESS ACADEMIC

THE ADMIRAL

Awwww he's so cute with georgie

GHOST PODCAST GHOST PODCAST

THE WHAT THE GHOST T SHIRT IS CANON???? AHH THATS SO CUTE

Can he not go back to his own flat?? Did he bring all his clothes to the archive and then subsequently leave them there? Does he even have a flat??

God Georgie is so nice I would kill for her

It's so funny that an apparent supernatural cynic dated a ghost podcaster

WOW SEASON 3 OFF TO AN AMAZING START I CANT WAIT TO KEEP LISTENING IM GONNA TELL MY THERAPIST ABOUT THIS TOMORROW!!!

#tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #jarchivist #a guest for mr spider #the web #tma season 3 #georgie barker #tma georgie #jurgen leitner #what the ghost #the admiral

110 notes · View notes

sataara · 5 months

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Fanfic Recs! pt. 1

Hello hello! For yall that don't know me, I'm Billy or Sataara, either is fine, and I read a lot of submas fics so I decided to make a list of some recommendations that I have! A few things about me is that I can't deal with unhappy endings, heavy angst and/or any pairings where both brothers are with someone else (also no bl/nkship), so if you're looking for any of these types of fics, I'm sorry but you won't find it here :/

That aside, I'll make more than one post since this was getting kind of long, this first one are just multi-chapter fics! Most of these are either reunion fics or Ingo living after getting back from Hisui, with some exceptions! Gonna leave the actual description under the link with small personal notes on my opinion about them!

edit: added a few more!

Combūrere by Anonymous

Emmet doesn’t appreciate hearing his brother is dead. But if it takes everyone treating him like glass to let him fistfight a god, so be it. He’s an over-pressured steam boiler, waiting to explode. He’s already set up all the pieces, lined all his matchsticks one by one. The only thing left to do is set himself ablaze. In which Emmet becomes a vengeful spirit, reunites with Ingo, travels to an alternate universe, and fights a god. Just. Not in that order.

Words: 140,000 Chapters: 28/28

This fic got me hooked from start to finish, I was up until 5am at one point because I just couldn't put it down. Reunion with a lot of bumps in the road that only make the story more interesting and flashbacks that only add context making the fic more robust.

Last Train Home by StellarCoachman

Ingo arrived in Hisui far too early, settling in and making a life for himself there. Akari, his daughter, grows up alongside him and Lady Sneasler in the Highlands, developing a strong bond with Pokemon that serves her well when she decides to join the Galaxy Team Survey Corp. There, she meets an odd boy named Rei and takes part in the events that shape the history of the region itself. An unexpected encounter leaves her lost in an unfamiliar world. Meanwhile, Emmet has long since grown to accept his brother's presumed death, but still struggles on occasion. When he gets proof that his brother may actually be alive, he rushes off to see for himself, but he's not prepared for what he finds instead.

Words: 90,307 Chapters: 12/12

One of the many fics I'll share from this author, love their works very much and I really enjoy their different takes on their reunion! As a warning, though, this one can be very sad and it made me cry a few times too </3

Legends, ponderances, and then some. by An_Ephemeral_Walk

Of all the lands, all the regions, all the timelines, it was Unova that was chosen. It was Unova that was the first to lose someone to a mythical being outside the domain of Truth and Ideals. It was Unova that fell victim to the being already tormenting both the Sinnoh of now, and the Hisui of then. While it wouldn't be Truth or Ideals that would ultimately lead Giratina to regretting going along with Volo, it would learn the taste of regret and defeat all the same in many flavors. Stealing the partner of a fiery ghost is a lesson not learned yet, but it will be. Oh, it will be.

Words: 85,049 Chapters: 10/10

This one is a very interesting and enjoyable read, a lot of introspection, different hcs for how the characters met, just, really nice all around.

Elevated Railways by FluentInFangirl12

I'm a sucker for wingfics and I'm surprised that in all my submas fics, I haven't written one yet. This was inspired by @manchasma's wing au on tumble dot com and this specific post by @fang-tasmal (https://fang-tasmal.tumblr.com/post/682901862855426048/wing-au-time-i-like-the-traditional-wings-on-back) but im changing the lore and stuff a bit.

Words: 71,987 Chapters: 28/28

Wingfic! This one has a lot of uncle Ingo content, it's a really fun read and nice exploration of the setting with the "but what if wings?" trope added to that <3 Also, another author that has a bunch of fics I enjoy!

Ingo in Wonderland by PerpetuallySleepy

Falling for the second time, Ingo finds himself in a strange land… a strange wonderland. Well, it appears that there’s quite an adventure ahead of him. A weird and wacky one! All aboard!

Words: 71,058 Chapters: 30/30

This one I actually avoided for sometime thinking it wouldn't be something I enjoyed, but oh, I'm so glad I gave it a chance! What a fascinating and fun story! Its heart wrenching and different, I loved it all the way through!

Give Not In To Sorrow by Hare_Brained_Scheme

Something strange is going on in Hisui. There are reports of a man in white roaming the wildlands while leading a pack of Pokemon . Some say they're a mix of Pokemon, some claim they're a pack of zoroarks. Some swear that the man is none other than the amnesiac warden of the Pearl Clan. One thing is certain. Those who meet the man in white all report the same thing: He is looking for his brother. And he will not rest until he finds him.

Words: 70,551 Chapters: 12/12

This one I can not recommend enough, beautifully crafted story, completely gut wrenching, I've read it twice not counting the times I reread my favorite parts and cried a lot, mind the tags but do read it if you haven't already.

We Are Derailing by william_pkmn

Lucas is sent on a mission to investigate a sacred site to the Diamond clan. As added backup, he takes Ingo with and inadvertently unlocks his memories, deepening the mystery they have to solve together.

Words: 49,451 Chapters: 10/10

Another really interesting one! Following Ingo and Lucas as they look for clues about Ingo's past, the promise that things will work out by the end, the road to get there, it's worth the read!

A Rather Dramatic Displacement by NanixErka

Arceus grants the wish of the two heroes displaced in time However, perhaps they should have consulted Dialga with the time portion of this 10 years isn't too far off for humans, right? the scowling 5 year old didn't think so.

Words: 44,258 Chapters: 12/12

Really fun fic with Ingo and Akari being de aged and sent to the wrong time! Tons of shenanigans and also cute moments with dad Ingo <3

Autistic Elopement (if it sucks, hit the bricks) by Alienea, Juan_Pujol_Garcia

Stuck in the past? Textures suck? Tastes bad? Horribly understimulated? Just walk out! Hit the bricks! Leave through a portal with a kid you met a few months ago! What could go wrong?

Words: 42,008 Chapters: 6/6

Loooooove this one! Ingo relearning and slowly remembering his present time, while Emmet has to deal with everything that comes with Ingo being back but with no memories.

to the rift that tore us apart (and brought us together again) by Gibberish_Sorcerer

A distortion appears at a certain Unovan subway station, taking away Ingo to a different land. Emmet sees everything firsthand. (Emmet goes through a rift to Hisui, keeps his memories, and just sorta hangs out with Ingo. Also the entire plot of PLA happens with the twins going along for the ride.)

Words: 31,911 Chapters: 15/15

This one is really good! Such an interesting idea to explore with Emmet also in Hisui and now everyone has to deal with the fact that there's two of them kjdbsjakbvkjb

I Came Back For You by Elithesia_Autem_Danguarde

Upon experiencing a mysterious connection to another time and space, Warden Ingo regains his memories and makes the choice to return home to Unova where he belongs. However, he has to deal with not only his own emotions about being in Hisui for over a year, but how his absence impacted those that loved him. Settling back home isn't easy, but there are always people who stand behind him, particularly his precious little brother who missed him so dearly.

Words: 30,295 Chapters: 5/5

The care and love in this fic is so heartwarming but also a bit sad at times, I really enjoyed the concept and how the different conflicts were worked through!

A Change in Conductors by CuzReasons

Warden Ingo wakes up in a place he doesn't recognize. Subway Boss Ingo wakes up in a place he's only read about. Neither are where they should be.

Words: 23,654 Chapters: 9/9

This author is currently my favorite and I love their concepts and how they work through their stories and ideas, I recommend looking through their entire pokemon tag if you're looking for reunions and sibling antics! But talking about this fic in specific, the concept uses a common trope but the way it's used is fresh and so intriguing! I kept reading each chapter as soon as I got the notification, I cried happy tears reading it.

I am not there, I do not sleep. by digitalpen

How does it feel to be a dead man walking? The Pearl Clan found the body of a man in the icelands. His lips were blue and he had no pulse. When no one else in Hisui could identify him, his body was given to a blessed pokemon in lieu of a funeral. And yet, his spirit is seen walking about days later. Ingo haunts the highlands as a ghost. He has no home, no family, no memories, no life. What comes next?

Words: 20,249 Chapters: 5/5

This one messed me up and made me happy all over again, mind the tags and don't forget the promised happy ending!

The Warden, The Girl, & The Fox by Elithesia_Autem_Danguarde

While freely roaming Hisui, Akari stumbles upon a mysterious man in the Alabaster Icelands with a familiar face. As the two begin to form a friendship, Akari begins to realize there might be much more to this new man's presence than what it initially seems, as well as being the key to unlocking the lost memories of her friend, Warden Ingo.

Words: 68,621 Chapters: 15/15

Another one by Elithesia! I do love this one and their reunion is bittersweet at first but so comforting as it goes! The focus on this one is way more on Akari, but the brothers are the main point of the story!

Let It Simmer by EVTrainingUniversity

Having returned to the future, Ingo finds himself stumped on just who he was before Hisui as his memories still haven't returned. As such, until he can find his way back to his home station he must spend some time in the modern-day Sinnoh. Left sitting around for the most part while the investigators do their work, he decides to put a gift given to him by his friends in the past to good use by making a food recipe blog of traditional Hisuian dishes. It's by complete happenstance that Emmet stumbles upon his blog, having taken on cooking as a hobby during Ingo's absence.

Words: 6,538 Chapters: 4/4

This one is very special to me, food as a love language, as a healing tool, as a bonding experience, it's everything to me

Fear Not the Descent by ImpossibleJedi4

Some coping mechanisms formed in wake of a tragedy are healthy, some are unhealthy, and some are a mixture of the two. Emmet finds peace when he travels far below the surface of the earth, but then, at long last, someone finds him in return.

Words: 2,316 Chapters: 2/2

Very short one but it's so touching... Please do mind the tags if any of those concepts might make you uncomfortable, better safe than sorry

#my stuff #submas #fanfic recs #subway boss ingo #subway boss emmet

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unicyclehippo · 1 year

Note

reminder to self: finish the dang wash prompt

[have read it too many times & now my brain is fried so that’s it!! im done!! for @possibilistfanfiction the ray fic as promised, i hope u enjoy it!! for everyone else, if you think you’ve read this before, that’s because the start is functionally identical to the thing i posted a few weeks back for the “wash” prompt]

you should have listened to your brother.

the thought makes you shudder and you ignore it valiantly as you start your morning, because at the heart of it, that’s what you do: you’re a runaway.

hop out of bed; don’t think about it. make breakfast in your tiny kitchen, the overhead light a little dim but bright enough against blue pre-dawn morning; don’t think about it. get ready for work, check the to-do list note in your phone twice to make sure you’ve got everything you need; don’t think about it. not thinking about it works just fine until, asshole that he is, he calls you as you’re climbing into the car.

you think about ignoring him but as much as he ticks you off—and you know that the first or maybe last words out of his mouth are gonna be, when are you coming home, ray—it’s been three weeks since the last time you spoke and you miss him. plus, it’s not as if he’s wrong (ugh). it is lonely here, sometimes, and you have friends closeby but no family, and your stomach hurt all last winter because no one wanted to learn to surf when the water was fuck-off cold and the jobs you got to cover those in-between months didn’t ever last long enough, and he’s right about all of that but he’s wrong about it not being worth it. he’s wrong about you needing to come home, because there’s nowhere you’d rather be than right here and maybe, yeah, maybe that makes you selfish or reckless or any of the other things he’d called you in anger, regretted quickly, but the smell of seasalt and smog clings to you and you feel good, healthy, when you swing into the drivers seat of your car and excitement swells up inside of you—like always, every morning without fail—because this was never about running away, not really, it was always about this. about running to something, about having a different home, about making a place where you feel right in yourself, braver and better too. maybe when you explain that to him this time, for what feels like the hundredth time, he’ll get it.

you put the phone in its clip, up on the dash, and answer his call.

‘hey,’ he says, voice gravelly with the early hour and the crackle of your shitty reception. ‘didn’t think you were gonna pick up. figured you were still ignoring my calls.’

god, you miss him. but he’s your brother so you won’t ever say that except under pain of torture, maybe. Instead, you say, tone clipped,

‘thought about it.’ it’s not helpful to be short with him but hell, you answered, didn’t you? It doesn’t fall on you to fix all of this.

he sits with that for a second, then clears his throat. you can picture him clear as day: he’ll be leaning back against the counter of his kitchen, arms folded, face folded up as he listens hard to every word. there’ll be coffee brewing in a pot, and all the stuff for the kids lunches laid out ready for the assembly line.

he tries again. you love him for this, you admire him for this—not that you’ll ever admit it to him. he never stops trying.

‘you off to work?’

‘yeah.’

‘how’s that going?’

for a second, there’s another short answer on your lips. something terse, something not quite unkind but not welcoming or inviting. but then you think about him standing in the kitchen pre-dawn making your sandwiches, day after day, and glance to the passenger seat to your bag where you tossed the sandwich you’d made this morning in your tiny kitchen—exactly the way he used to make it, and makes now for his son and daughter—and instead you say,

‘i have a new student.’

‘oh? kid or adult class?’

‘adult.’

there’s a smile in his tone, just exactly as teasing as when you were fourteen and admitted to having a crush on sophie perez (a year older than you and so much cooler), when he says, ‘is she pretty?’

‘oh, come on marco.’

‘what! i’m just asking.’

‘you’re just being nosy is what you are.’

‘sorry, sorry,’ he laughs. ‘but that’s totally a yes, by the way.’

you roll your eyes. there’s not really a word for what beatrice is. pretty, yes, absolutely. but it’s sneaky, the ways in which she’s really stunning, and even after three sessions teaching her how to surf you still feel kinda knocked around by her, not quite able to find your feet. she’s so composed, always, that it makes you feel awkward. listens so intently to your instructions and advice that under that close attention you feel singular, like the only person in the world. and, you don’t tell him, cannot tell your brother without seeming like the world’s biggest weirdo, you’ve seen her smile two and a half times. the half had been an accident; you’d turned to her at just the right moment to witness it—she’d been looking at nothing in particular, an empty spot on the beach, eyes gone wistful—but it wasn’t for you, and it wasn’t exactly happy, so it doesn’t seem right to count it as a full third. each time she smiles, it makes you want to see another with a fierceness that startles you. you are no stranger to want, nor attraction, and you know that makes up part of your fascination with beatrice but, if that were not enough, there is even more to her.

all the rest, your brother could wheedle out of you eventually, but this is something you keep locked tightly away, something you have not ever spoken to him about.

you should, eventually. you will (you might).

the first time you met beatrice, spoke with her after wading up and out of the hissing surf, with her lingering on the outskirts of your lessons to “inquire how to take part”—she’d taken the sheet you’d handed her and filled it out right there and then in careful script, beatrice, she/her, twenty four, england, never surfed before, email, phone number, emergency contact, the last of which had made her pause for a long time—something in you had recognised something in her. grief, still painful, had welled up in your chest, nailed your tongue to the roof of your mouth, stung in your eyes powerfully that you’d had to turn away and run your fingers through your hair, dig your heels into the sand, step back into the wet sand and the water pooling around your ankles. the ocean takes away everything you’re not ready to feel; while you are out there, it holds you up, weightless. two minutes into talking with beatrice, you know that she wants the same thing.

none of which you particularly want to tell your brother, so you say, ‘yeah, she’s pretty.’

‘single?’

‘i haven’t asked.’

‘you should.’

‘should i?’

pulling neatly into the park by the boardwalk—your favourite, for no particular reason other than this was the same one you always take, the same one you took the first day you came here, ended up here—you turn off the car but don’t make any move to get out. the engine quietens, then goes silent. marco fills the silence. saying things like how long has it been since you went on a date and you never know unless you try. you pull the keys from the ignition, toss them into the little waterproof bag you’ll take down to the sand with you. sunscreen, food, first aid kit.

‘what happened to, it’s time to come home?’ you interrupt his teasing.

he sighs. the line crackles, weirdly high-pitched, as the kettle begins to make noise on his end.

‘listen, ray. i miss you. i’m not gonna pretend that’s not true, or that i don’t worry about you all the time. and with all the shit that’s been going on lately… i want you nearby. but asim said, and i guess he might be right, that i’m being overprotective. and an ass.’

you’ve thought similar things about him before. twice, just this morning. but hearing him say it, voice warm and tired and a little ashamed, makes you want to take the first plane home and hug him until all the weird, unsettled, lonely parts of you find their place. like all it’ll take to fix everything is a hug from your big brother. but you know that isn’t true. knowing it makes you feel a little old and sad. resolute too, because you’re good here, better than you were. you made this place for yourself and you’re filling it with good, important things.

that’s far too many feelings for four a.m. so you say, ‘say asim was right again,’ and marco laughs. and then, because he was open first, and that makes it easier to follow, to admit to your own missteps, mistakes, you say, ‘i think about it all the time. coming home, i mean. i love you guys, and i do miss you guys, and you’re right. it’s hard out here. but…i love it. my life, the beach.’ he laughs again at that, which is fair. you could have said one or the other; the beach is your life, after all. ‘hey marco, i gotta go. before the waves get tired.’

‘yeah. yeah, i get it. hey - talk later?’

‘yeah. anytime.’

‘love you. be safe out there.’

‘always am. love you too.’

beatrice is waiting on the sand when you finally get down there; she’s not looking for you, just watching the sun rise, and you’re going to call out to her when something changes—maybe some ephemeral thing, little more than a change in the quality of the light when you take a step closer; maybe the way she’s holding herself, one hand folded over her wrist where you’ve seen the black ink in the divot of her wrist, delicate letters small enough that you haven’t been able to read it when you’ve snuck a peek or two before. whatever it is, you decide to give her a second on her own.

the sand is hot on the surface and cooler beneath. you shift your weight, dig your feet down until the sand covers the tops of your feet, just to give yourself something to do. and then you stare out over the ocean and breathe.

it’s beautiful. it’s so fucking beautiful. you’ve known this was where you were gonna end up since you were eight years old and your cousin gabriel had pinned a photo of it to your wall—no one will ever consider it a masterwork of photography, that old blurred snapshot of sand and water and the sun, and just a tiny bit of his fingertip, no one but you because it had been his and he gave it to you, because he’d stood on the beach—maybe this beach, maybe right where you are now—and loved it so much he’d taken a photo of it and you’ve got the proof of it (proof of him, always) tucked into a book on your bedside.

‘good morning.’

you drag your eyes away from the sunrise—super gorgeous, thin wispy clouds like cotton-candy, pink in the sunlight, striped across the distant horizon, and everything shimmering in what, logically, you know is the smog haze but for a second it can just be beautiful too—to find that beatrice has wandered up to join you. she’s watching you with the attentive curiosity you’ve come to expect—warmer than polite, cooler than inviting.

‘hey, morning. sorry i’m late—got caught up talking to my brother.’

she nods her understanding. it has a thoughtful tilt to it, or maybe questioning. ‘does he live elsewhere in the world?’

‘excuse me?’

‘it’s early for a call. is he in another timezone?’

you don’t think she’s interrogating you, or she doesn’t mean to interrogate you. you actually think she’s trying to be nice and show interest, so you say, ‘well, he’s home—mexico—so… i think it’s an hour later for him. something like that. but he’s a get-up-and-go kinda guy—has been, ever since i took up surfing. he used to drive me to the water when i was a kid.’

‘older brother, then.’

‘only by a couple of years.’ you roll your eyes, ‘that’s all he needs to get up in my business.’

‘that’s what brothers are for. so i hear.’

‘true.’ you think about saying something more, because all you want to do right now is keep talking to her as long as possible, preferably forever, but that urge seems like a you problem, and something that’ll get washed away the second you dunk your head in the water. ‘okay! hey - mind taking this board and i’ll run back for the other one?’

when you return with your board, hauled down off the roof of your car, beatrice has set her sandals neatly beside her tote a few meters up from the tideline where it’ll all stay dry. you dump your bag right beside hers and jog to join her, check her out with a quick look. of the wetsuit, that is, that you had advised her to buy if surfing was something she wanted to keep doing.

she crouches, wets her hands, and secures the leash of her board carefully around her ankle.

‘good job!’ you compliment, because it’s four-something in the morning and, yeah, it’s your choice to get up this early but that doesn’t mean you’re firing on all cylinders yet. you want to say something impressive and kind and get her eyes on you because she’s pretty and interesting but, here’s the thing, most of the time you’re teaching children so the compliment comes out the way you would say it to little jayla (eight years old and nervous about everything and therefore, in your opinion, the bravest little soul in the world for keeping at it).

beatrice looks over at you, amused, and you earn your third full smile from her.

she’s laughing at you, definitely, which you don’t mind, have never minded when it comes to girls; years of report cards scrunched at the bottom of your bag, with comments amounting to smart enough but needs to spend more time listening and less time clowning around for the girls will back you up in that regard. your mami despaired of your grades and your attention (or lack of it) and she had chided you then, sat you down at the kitchen table opposite her as you made dinner together for the whole family, splitting the excess. she scolded—and pressed a ripped piece of bolillo into your hand to tide you over to dinner—she lamented—and passed over a bowl, diced tomatoes, crisp and red—and she talked to you about hard work and the importance of school and respect for your teachers and you know now that it was all love, that loud bright kitchen and how she made you handle it all together, space and work and life; you didn’t have the words to explain then—though you remember trying, loudly—that you knew, or thought, you were only really any good at two things, that most of the time you feel like you’re sleepwalking through your life and it’s only when you’re out there in the water, or making your friends laugh, that you feel totally real and vital and incredible.

here, today, beatrice’s eyes are on you and you’ve made her smile (laugh, even). you feel invincible.

you laugh at yourself. run a hand through your hair. ‘you wouldn’t believe how many people put their wetsuits on backwards, or don’t bother with the leg rope, so. really, you’re doing great.’

she shrugs very slightly, cheeks gone a little pink under the compliment, or the sunrise, or maybe—a girl can dream—your singular attention. ‘thank you, then.’

‘sure,’ you say, and, ‘i can get your zip for you, if that’s okay? it’s not quite all the way up.’

‘thank you, yes.’

she turns away from you so you can fix it and you do, immediately and without lingering. she has freckles across her shoulders; the teeth of the zipper tug closed, swallow up the sight of them. you think, briefly, about kissing her there on the back of her neck, her shoulders, of taking a zip between your fingers and pulling it down.

‘how does it feel? i know the wetsuits can be weird at first.’

‘it’s fine. i’ve worn stranger.’

you desperately want to ask for details but, aside from her first name, you don’t know anything much about her except that she wants to learn surfing, and probably the first time you ask for more information shouldn’t be about what she’s worn, even though your brain is filled with all kinds of theories. so instead you swallow back a flirty comment—also she is paying you to teach her, you remember abruptly, and maybe you should wait until after the lesson to flirt with her—and nod to the water.

‘let’s hit it, then.’

the sand is golden, and the ocean is starting to turn gold under the sunlight, and you feel a bit golden too. you think idly, self-indulgent, you want heaven to be like this. a golden beach, with everyone you’ve ever loved on it with you. you take it in—a great start to the morning—and, smiling, run forward into the water.

she’s lighter, after surfing.

in your first few lessons, you weren’t sure whether it would be like that for her. it’s not the physical part—she’s obviously fit and athletic enough to be good at surfing (you’ve noticed); there’s this…relaxation isn’t the right word, meditative is close but too dramatic for your tastes.

it’s like this. you paddle out to the calm, past the small waves that break close to the shoreline, and sit on your board and wait, legs dangling in the water, fingers drifting over the surface of it. maybe you sit in silence, maybe you chat with your buddy. and then you pick out a wave and then there’s this feeling when the wave swells and you catch it just right—you’re a little outside of yourself, entirely out of your head, and you experience it totally, trusting the wave to carry you and your body to move the way you’ve taught it to. you thought, when you first met her, that beatrice was too contained for that, every movement so precise, so controlled, intentional and intelligent and totally present, always watched, always watching herself. if there’s anyone who needs to get out of their head, you thought then and think now, it’s beatrice.

and now. it’s only been four lessons, four days of knowing her split up over a couple weeks. you’re sitting on your board, legs in the water, cold spray in your face. august and siti—a couple of the regulars, friendly, you talk sometimes enough to say hello at the least, and lent august your sunscreen last week when they forgot to pack some even though it is not cheap—are a decent way further out. you see a good wave start to roll in and before you can say anything to beatrice, she’s already spotted it and moving. you stay where you are, watching as she catches it alone so you can check her form and you see it happen. she pops up smooth and rides it all the way in. a second later, you’re searching for a wave you can catch and wave at her to stay; you tumble off in the shallows, not your most graceful wave ever, and rush up to her. beatrice is smiling (four and a half, you think, totally brainless), big and so pleased, and you can’t help but grin back at her.

‘you felt it!’ you call out—accuse, almost—when you’re close and she laughs. slicks her hair back off her face with a trembling hand.

‘i - i think - yes, i did, yes.’ she’s breathing hard, from excitement you think—she’s caught waves before, bigger ones even, but this is different and you can tell. it’s entirely confirmed when she reaches out, clasps your wrist, and smiles—all for you. (five and a half.) ‘thank you, thank you.’

‘yes,’ you say, a little brainless, a little helpless. ‘of course.’

(fourteen years old, madly in love with sophie perez and madly heart-broken when you spotted her hand-in-hand with some scruffy-haired unfunny boy, your cousin gabriel had driven far across town to pick you up and, ignoring the impressive sulk you’d sunken into, packed you into his car and took you to the beach. he hadn’t spoken to you at all while you cried into his shoulder, his arm thin and strong around you, holding you tight, a tether, and when you roughly scrubbed the tears off your shame-hot face, he’d smacked your hands away and pulled a pack of tissues from his bag, cleaned you up carefully. nodded when he was done, approving. and then he stood and walked knee-deep into the water, not seeming to care that he was in jeans or that you’d have to get back into his car in wet clothes.

love is like the ocean, he’d said.

you remember rolling your sore eyes because at fourteen years old you already knew that love wasn’t the ocean. love was enjoying all the same music and turning up early to class to get the seat across from hers and the way your heart sped up when you passed her in the hall and staying up way too late dreaming of ways to make her laugh in class the next day. but gabriel was your favourite so you listened carefully, and you’re thankful for that now because you can remember so much. his dark curls, the smudge of his eyeshadow, how cold the water had been on your skin, how warm his arm had been around your shoulders.

not everyone loves her the same way. some people stay for a day and then head back to the mountains. he’d paused. mountains are, i dunno, a loveless marriage in this metaphor. you’d laughed at him. some people paint it, or make movies, but they never swim in it. some people sail out in their nice boats and go fishing. take what they want from her and head back to dry land. but for people like us? gabriel wore rings on his fingers and a shirt, tight, in a dusky kind of orange. love for us is like the ocean. we could drown in it and it wouldn’t be enough. he had a boyfriend in the city, and was beautiful and proud and kind, and you’d looked out over the calm sea and thought the world must be really different for him, vibrant and strange and wonderful. you felt special, nestled into his side.

people like us, he’d said, and you remember because you remember everything about that afternoon, that in amongst his kindness, he’d sounded sad.)

you’re not fourteen anymore. you love the ocean more than you love anything else. when beatrice smiles at you, your heart swells, crashes, drags you under. you love her, too.

‘i love surfing,’ you tell her later, pleasantly tired.

you trudge up toward the car park, stumble a little at the tide-mark where wet sand turns dry and gives way under your weight. you swear under your breath; every spare moment of your life has been spent at one beach or another, and you’d think that would earn some kind of loyalty perk, like, never tripping over your feet in front of cute girls, but apparently it doesn’t work that way. but beatrice only laughs, kindly, and puts a hand out to steady you and you don’t need it but you take it, of course. beatrice is slimmer than you, and a little taller, and far more graceful; you wonder if she’s ever tripped over anything in her life. her hand is cool from the water and calloused and scarred, which you didn’t entirely expect but makes a kind of sense in the collage you’re putting together in your head of what little scraps of information she’s given you.

beatrice takes her hand back; you keep your observations to yourself.

‘you love surfing,’ she prompts. and then, ‘i’m starting to love it too, i think.’

‘it’s okay if you don’t, i won’t think less of you,’ you say, only lying a little bit, which you think she knows because she arches an eyebrow in your direction. you grin back. ‘of course i hope you do. but if you’re only coming to lessons for my many charms, i completely understand.’

‘is it hard? surfing, with such a large head?’ she snarks, unimpressed but eyes bright.

‘god never gives us more than we can handle,’ you say, absolutely facetious, absolutely cocky. she looks away. you put “doesn’t like jokes about god” in the collage of beatrice and move on. ‘you thanked me. earlier. you don’t need to. you’re paying me, first of all,’ you tease, ‘but. i love surfing for what it is, for myself, out there alone. i love every bit of it. but the teaching part… i didn’t expect to love that. it’s turned out to be so cool. getting to know all kinds of people, introduce them to surfing. and the water, too, sometimes. watching them fall in love with…’

you stop at the rocks and look behind you. the strip of sand, the greedy suck of the tide crawling higher up the beach, the shimmering green-glass sea.

‘with all of that.’

you think about being embarrassed about your tone—way too sincere, way too holy—but when you meet her eyes you see she understand this, too: that holy can be found outside the cathedral, that hymns can be the raucous gull shriek and wave crash and breath.

‘getting to partake, and teach, and do what i love every day? honestly my genuine pleasure.’

the words bring something complicated to her face. sad? wistful? a little angry, definitely. her eyes return to the view; you stay looking at her, not keen to lose whatever she might say to the crash and hiss of the waves.

‘i wish…’ she holds herself still. she’s lost the lightness surfing brought her; you don’t know if it’s your fault, you hope it isn’t, or if it was never going to last very long for her. ‘i wish i had that.’

if you were thinking about it properly, you don’t know beatrice or her situation well enough to give advice. but you like her, and you want to be able to help, and you get the impossibly strong (if slightly uncertain) vibe of queerness absolutely radiating off her and that you understand. plus, surfing makes you brave—a little stupid in that invincible way, like nothing can hurt you, like nothing can truly go wrong, like anything that does go wrong can be fixed—so, picking up your board again, you head off toward your car once more and she follows.

as you walk, you say, ‘i think you can have it. i think you can make it. joy, passions, a life you want to live… that doesn’t fall out of the sky, you know?’ she flinches at that but you keep going, since you already dove in. ‘most of the time, you have to work for it. all of the time, it’s about making decisions and figuring out what’s important. figuring out who you are—how you feel, how you want to exist, what you want to do. and then you have to find your way there.’ scraping your fingers through your hair, pushing it back out of your eyes, you take a second to think. ‘once you know the life you want to have, you can go out and get it. a little at a time.’

she stops where the sand hits concrete, which you get. the beach feels worlds away from reality, sometimes, and you get wanting to stay there as long as possible. everything seems smaller, compared to the ocean. more manageable. you stand there with her.

‘what if what i want is impossible?’

‘…damn. great question. i don’t know. set yourself an easier goal?’ that startles her, and for a moment you think it would have been better to be gentle or sincere but then she laughs, louder than before. god, you think, thank you for letting me meet her. thank you for letting me make her laugh. ‘i don’t always turn into a life coach and give unasked for advice after surfing, i swear. it costs ten bucks more for that package, if you want to spring for that next time, but hey, first one for free.’

‘perhaps i will. you seem to have all the answers.’

‘maybe not all of them but yeah, i know some stuff.’ you let sincerity bleed through, here, because you joke around but there’s something serious and seriously healing about being with other people, being able to be open and honest with them, and you can be that for beatrice, if she wants.

‘what about you?’

‘what about me?’

‘you made the decision to come here,’ beatrice says, with that faintly accusing, faintly interrogative tone she gets. ‘why?’

ah. here is what your invincibility gets you—the sting of salt in your eyes; a heavy pressure against your head, your ears, like you’ve dunked you head beneath the waves and all you can hear is the slam of your pulse; and that feeling—one that doesn’t hit so often anymore—that you are just one little creature treading water at the top of the vast ocean, alone, with no one around to help you out.

it only lasts for a few seconds.

you’ve talked to people, on and off, for a few years. and you know how to ground yourself in the here and now—the heat of the sand, the sun on your shoulders, your hair drying into careless waves and curling a little around your ears, tickling your jaw, the taste of salt and lip balm when you lick your lips, the click of your wrist when you flex it.

you step off the sand and into the parking lot, toward your car. for a minute, you work in silence getting your board up onto the rack; the work helps but the collar of your wetsuit is soaked and heavy, tight around your throat. when you turn back to help beatrice with her board, you grab for the zipper and tug it down an inch, let it slacken so you can breathe better.

it has been a long enough delay in answering her that she’s starting to make assumptions, observations of her own. she also has the faintly horrified look of someone who has stepped in something gross—dog shit, or, in this case, brought up a more deeply personal conversation than she was prepared for—and looks like she’s searching desperately for a way to change the subject. but it was a direct question, an honest one and not unfair, not one you’re unhappy answering, so you say,

‘when i say you make decisions, choices…things happen to us in life and we can’t control that shit. but you get to decide what to do after that. something… something kinda rough happened in my life.’ you look at her, and think of a grief so profound that you have to wear it on your skin. you flex your hands, and look down at the tattoo on her wrist that you still haven’t taken the time to examine, not visible under the sleeve of her wetsuit. ‘my cousin died,’ you tell her. ‘he was really important to me. and after that, i chose to come here. left my hometown, my family, and started again. i’d wanted to do it for ages and i guess i realised this was the only life i was gonna get. so here i am. and that,’ you say, tone much lighter, ‘is all you’re getting out of me this morning. you know how it goes—just a little of a great thing at a time. can’t risk you getting sick of me, can i?’

beatrice looks at you for a long moment, fingers resting on her wrist. eventually, she shakes her head, passes over her board. ‘i’m not sick of you.’’

‘oh yeah?’ you hoist up the board and fix it in place. when you look back over your shoulder, you mean to say something teasing but lose your head because she’s looking at you—your back, your arms. you flex a little more than you need to and her eyes dart to your muscles, your wrists, and linger on your tattooed hands.

she turns away with pink cheeks you’re certain isn’t the sun’s fault. clasps her hands behind her back.

‘thank you,’ she says, sincerely. ‘for sharing that with me.’

‘sure, of course.’ it’s not really an of course. you can count on two hands the number of people you would talk to about gabriel. but it’s an of course for her. you don’t think too hard about it.

‘and for the lessons.’

that makes you laugh. ‘the ones you are paying for? you’re welcome.’ it’s kind of obvious at this point that she’s just looking for things to say, to hang out a little longer, and you take pity on her. and also, you want to spend more time with her too so, hey, works out perfectly. ‘if you’re not busy, if you don’t have to run off, maybe we can talk some more? i don’t have to be anywhere for a while and there’s this place down the road—a few minutes that way, walking distance, easy. decent coffee, great view. we could get coffee. breakfast, even.’

beatrice turns super slowly and stiffly to look in the direction you point. it’s a long, long moment before she looks at you.

‘as a date?’

‘hopefully, yeah.’

‘oh.’ her eyes dart around the mostly empty parking lot—it can’t be later than six, if that—and suddenly contained seems a little more like hidden. ‘I’m—that’s kind of you—’ she swallows. sets her shoulders, her jaw, and meets your eyes. ‘i have a partner.’

‘that makes sense.’ you wonder, briefly, what her partner is like. you hope they’re stoic and serious as beatrice is, because if they’re hot and funny like you it’ll be vaguely devastating. maybe you’ll get to meet them. ‘as friends, then.’ beatrice hesitates. ‘would your partner be cool with that?’

beatrice smiles again, one of those not-for-you smiles. you think again, more fervently, that you’d like to meet her partner—they must be something seriously special to have captured beatrice’s attention, first of all, but to get her to smile like that…

‘she’d be delighted, actually.’ she touches her wrist and nods. ‘yes. thank you. i - we - can do that. get coffee.’

she makes it sound revolutionary, like she’s never had coffee before, which you know is not the case because you’d mentioned, offhand, that if one more goddamn politician or bank twitter account advised people to save money and make coffee at home you were gonna lose it, and she’d agreed that she preferred homemade tea and store-bought coffee, and mentioned an article she’d read on how coffee was produced and how it worked, which she though was “quite interesting” and when she forwarded it to your e-mail it wasn’t a think piece like you’d been expecting but rather a fourteen page research article, peer-reviewed, on the social aspects of caffeine consumption, or something like that. there’s genuine nerves in her rigid posture, and you think of how revolutionary, world-changing, bold, fucking terrifying and a little bloody it’s been to get here, where you’re standing now.

‘cool. if you’ve got time after, there’s this surf shop—it’s a bit of a hike but,’ you flick your eyes to the cloudless blue sky overhead. ‘nice day for it. we can look at a couple of boards for you. i’m happy to go with you, help you find something good. borrowing a board is fine while you’re learning but it’ll be easier and feel better when you’ve got one that’s properly suited to you.’

she nods seriously, the way she always does when you talk about surfing, student to teacher. ‘i - would like that.’

‘yeah? awesome, alright!’

the cafe is a decent size and decently popular, which normally makes it hard to get a seat sometimes but today is a day of miracles and a couple is clearing out right as you get in, freeing up a table in the laneway. it’s in a good spot, shaded by one of the wide umbrellas and not in the way of the servers, so you sit sideways in your chair and happily stretch out your legs, pluck off your sunglasses and hang them off the collar of your t-shirt. opposite, beatrice tucks herself into her seat prim and proper, no surprises there; what does surprise you is how still she sits and how, even though you know that she agreed—wants—to be here, it’s like she’s trying to go invisible.

the server who brings out your drinks is young and harried, doesn’t even pause when you thank him. you’d ordered an espresso, and beatrice had asked for the same, but now she’s staring down at it doubtfully.

‘did you want something else?’

she shakes her head no. ‘i’d like to try it. this is your preferred coffee?’

‘my abuelo makes the meanest espresso you’ve ever had. this is water in comparison.’

‘oh.’

‘but it’s a nice place and i like the beans they use here. i really should ask what their blend is one of these days but,’ you shrug. ‘i don’t have a machine at home so what’s the point, right?’

she nods. picks up the little cup and sips at it. immediately, her nose wrinkles and her lips twist and her perfect posture breaks for a second as she bodily fights the urge to say, presumably, judging by her grimace, ‘yuck!’ she lowers it but doesn’t set it down, like it would be impolite to abandon it immediately, and watches with the tiniest grimace as you drink it happily.

‘not for you?’

‘at risk of sounding like a stereotype, i am more of a tea drinker. this is…rather a powerful taste.’ she looks a little guilty setting it back down. ‘do you mind if i order something else?’

‘no, course not. but i might judge you on what you get,’ you tease, grinning, and she just rolls her eyes, nods. you split your attention between enjoying the morning and watching the line creep forward until she’s at the register, shake your head when she folds another note into the tip jar.

she comes back to the table with another coffee—an oatmilk latte, with lavender of all things—and, as promised, you tease her gently about it.

‘really settling in, aren’t you? very LA of you,’ you say, and pretend to gag. ‘lavender. gross.’

beatrice smiles over the lip of her cup, shakes her head. ‘your favourite drink tastes like battery acid, i don’t think your opinion counts.’

‘ouch.’

‘you mentioned your abuelo,’ she says. ‘do you have much family?’

talking about family is easy, even if beatrice does make it a little of an interrogation—she gets everyone’s names and ages, nodding with this intense look in her eyes like she’s filing it away somewhere in her brain, like if you never spoke again and ran into each other in ten years she would still remember. you don’t have anything to hide, happy to tell her: yes, you’ve been here a while, a little over five years; surfing has always been your favourite thing to do; no, it’s not your only job, you have a very boring desk job but the boring bits are compensated by the fact that you get to work from home and your boss is kind of amazing about letting you take your afternoon run down to the beach and back; yes, you’re queer, you’ve known forever and so has your family, and yes they’re fine with it, very supportive, and they love you the same as they always did after you came out.

‘barely needed to, really. my mami said she knew since i was like ten, eleven, maybe. all because i followed my tennis coach around like a duckling, which makes sense because i can’t think of why else i would play tennis, it fucking sucks.’ beatrice sips guardedly at her coffee, looking away, and it’s so carefully inoffensive that you have to laugh. ‘tell me you don’t love tennis, beatrice, please.’

she shrugs carefully. ‘i’ve enjoyed it in the past. both playing and spectating.’

you groan. ‘no, beatrice! christ.’

‘it’s an olympic sport—‘

‘it’s dead boring,’ you insist.

beatrice frowns at you, considering. ‘you’re bad at it,’ she announces after a moment, very confident. ‘if you were better at it, perhaps you’d enjoy it more.’ you laugh, shrug a little, because she’s hit the nail on the head. she continues, ‘to its credit, tennis has serena williams, the most incredible athlete—‘

‘messi.’

‘team sport,’ she counters, and you cede the point with a nod.

‘certainly she’s the greatest tennis player of all time—‘

‘oh undoubtedly.’

‘—and it’s also one of the only sports that pays men and women equal prize money, and has mixed competitions.’

‘great points,’ you allow. ‘and yet, somehow it’s still fucking boring.’ beatrice fully scowls, shaking her head, and you have to ask, ‘are you rethinking being friends with me?’

she relents after a moment. sets down her drink with a sigh. ‘we can be friends,’ she tells you after a moment. ‘so long as we’re on the same page regarding serena williams.’

‘i’d love to regard serena williams.’

‘you should watch tennis, then,’ beatrice tells you bluntly, and smiles, pleased, when you laugh hard at that.

‘okay. you know everything about me now so what about you?’

‘what about me?’

you push a hand through your hair, ruffle it; her eyes follow the movement, your hands, and then she stares down at her coffee. ‘how long have you been in LA?’

‘a month. perhaps a little less.’

‘and you came here because…?’ when she hesitates, you say, ‘wait, wait, let me guess—you’re going to be in movies, right?’ she laughs like that’s ridiculous—even if one in five people you meet here is an aspiring actor, and none of them as compelling or, honestly, attractive as beatrice is—and relaxes. ‘ok, not movies. tv?’

‘no, i’m not here to act. i’m here to…’ she picks up a knife off the table, turns the cutlery smoothly between her fingers. ‘settle, i suppose. i’ve been travelling for some time.’

‘oh yeah? where to?’

it takes a little nudging for her to get going but when she does, she speaks very sincerely of the world, of its people and religions, of sights natural and man-made. she’s light on details but you can tell that the travel was important and life-changing, which you sort of understand. you haven’t been many places but every town away from where you grew up felt like a whole new world, like freedom, and you can only imagine that beatrice’s travelling was like that but no doubt on a far grander scale.

‘and your partner? what are they like?’ you ask, and immediately know that you’ve fucked up, because beatrice looks abruptly striken. ‘sorry, i -‘

‘no. it’s fine. she - ‘ a little of the horror in her fades the moment she says she, like even the thought of her partner is enough to soothe, but most of it stays. she picks up one of the paper napkins, twists it harshly between her fingers. ‘she’s sick.’

sick, she says, voice thick, unsteady. it occurs to you that she’s lying, trying to soften the blow or maybe deny it to herself again, but beatrice doesn’t seem like a liar. you choose to believe her. this is what it was, you realise. the source of that grief you’d felt, seen, ever since you first met her. you recognise the grief in her eyes—loss, fear, confusion too, like she doesn’t know quite what to do with herself. you remember that. the fog, the ache, when he was gone like an organ removed and your life having to close and heal around the lack. trying to find something that filled in that empty space, or fit enough that it didn’t hurt so much.

love for us is like the ocean. that’s true for you, then and now. you don’t think it’s the same for beatrice.

there’s love in every part of her—the joy and the waiting, the grief and the hurting—and there’s a cross around her neck that drags low, heavy, and there are words on her wrist that stand out stark against her skin and you think for beatrice love is like religion, holy, dedicated, faithful. you’re terrified that she’s waiting for a miracle that will never come; you hope, of course you hope and will pray for it tonight, that she gets it.

it’s also far too much to consider on a weekday before coffee, and you’ve already planned to keep her in your life in whatever capacity you can, so. you can talk about it later.

‘oh. that’s -’ beatrice looks like if you say another word she’s gonna bolt; if she does, you’re not sure that she’ll come to her next lesson, even if she has already paid for it. instead of condolences or well wishes, you say, ‘do you wanna hear about the time i hopped a fence and ripped my pants? right in the butt.’

she wasn’t expecting that in the slightest, obviously. a small smile curls her lips upwards and she resettles, looking dramatically less like she’s going to flee. ‘yes. that sounds very amusing.’

‘it’s funny now, sure, but back then? first of all, i got teased a lot. and second, it fucking stung,’ you bemoan, grinning when she looks a little unsure of whether this was, like, the worst thing that’s ever happened to you. she relaxes a little more and you thank god and your parents and brother that you get to be the person you are, someone who can make other people laugh. that’s not a bad life–surfing at the beach, a boring job, and making your friends laugh? not bad at all.

‘sounds like a pain in the ass.’ beatrice says, looking very pleased with her joke when it makes you groan, which is a lot better than her looking devastated. ‘what happened?’

‘usual idiot kid stuff. playing footy with my brother, kicked the ball over the neighbours fence. i thought i could jump it, get it back for us, and i did. mostly,’ you add after a tiny pause. then, slyly, you say, ‘the only reason i didn’t rip my boxers and my pants is because i was going commando.’

‘no.’

‘better a cut up my ass than ruining my good boxers,’ you wink, and beatrice laughs.

it’s just as easy as that to turn the conversation to lighter topics. she knows what you’re doing—you can tell, because her smile is occasionally too grateful than is deserved for just a chat over coffee—but she allows you to do it, and all too soon it’s been an hour and she’s buying you a second coffee, takeaway this time, and tipping, like, two hundred per cent with the most pristine notes you’ve ever seen tucked away in this slim handsome wallet, and you’re walking lazily, slowly back the way you’d come toward the beach. it’s not really a surprise that she declines the offer of heading to the surf shop—she still seems a bit unsteady after the mention of her partner—and you’re a little worried that she’ll disappear from your life now so you slow your pace when you see your car, twirl your keys around your finger.

‘what is it, ray?’ she asks, a touch cautious but mostly good-natured, curious.

‘busted. i was just thinking… you have a partner—major bummer, by the way,’ you tease, which is a fucking risk, but she manages a tiny smile. ‘mostly for you, because i was gonna ask you out and it would’ve been a good time, i know all the coolest places in LA.’ her cheeks go a little pink but she’s still smiling, so, ‘so despite being heart-broken, i’m going to this party tomorrow night. just a small thing, house party with a bunch of folks i go surfing with. you’ll probably meet most of them, if you keep up the dawn patrol, but it might be nice to get to know them out of the water. y’know, wearing clothes.’ much more seriously, much more sincerely, you tell her, ‘it’s absolutely cool if you want to be with your partner, or if you’re not going out much, but i wanted to invite you anyway. i think you’d enjoy it. very casual scene—music, some beers, a disproportionate amount of queer folk. plus, i’ll be there looking hot, that’s always a plus. you can be my wingwoman!’

beatrice frowns, considering her words carefully. ‘my partner is… she’s in a speciality hospital so i don’t get to visit her. i - promised her i would have some fun,’ she tells you, fingers brushing against her wrist. in this life, you’ve managed to read now, sitting opposite her for an hour in the morning sunlight, drinking coffee that almost tastes like home, sitting in a body and a life that entirely feels at home, and you look across at beatrice and see someone who is almost there. almost certain, almost sure, almost happy. ‘yes,’ she says, after taking a bolstering breath. brave, you think, with sudden fondness, protective. it comes to you, a splinter of a memory, being afraid of the ocean; gabriel plunging in ahead of you with such joy that you forgot. ‘yes,’ she says again, ‘i’d love to come to the party.’

‘amazing!’

‘and, while i find it difficult to imagine you would have a problem finding people to go on dates with you, yes, i will be your…wingwoman, if you require it. what is the dress code?’

‘too hot for leather, unfortunately,’ you tease, and have the extreme delight of watching beatrice stumble over literally nothing, ears going pink. so, so valiantly you manage to not comment on it. instead, you say, ‘wear whatever makes you feel good and happy. hot, if you want to feel hot. that’s always the rule.’

‘you get to decide what you do.’ it takes you a second to place her words—they’re your words, from this morning, which makes you smile because she’s quoting you, very seriously and kindly like that actually helped her, maybe. ‘i do best with rules, or a guideline,’ she mutters, but sets her shoulders and nods, decisive. ‘i’ll find something to wear. you have my number.’

‘from your form, i do, yeah. it’s cool if i text you?’

‘yes.’

‘alright. awesome, i’ll pin the address for you.’

‘good.’

beatrice walks you all the way to your car, shakes your hand like you’ve just concluded a job interview, and then continues on quickly. she’s got a white-knuckle grip on the handle of her tote bag and walks away with this quick, neat stride that makes you feel self-conscious about your own walk, like maybe you’ve been doing it wrong for your whole life. more importantly, there’s about a thirty per cent change that beatrice will actually turn up at this party but you’ve hoped for things with worse odds that were way less important to you than this, so you easily, recklessly hope that she’ll turn up.

the likelihood of beatrice actually showing up is still low, you remind yourself, even though she had texted this morning to accept and had thanked you very sincerely - and formally - for the invitation. the uber drops you off on the corner where you had agreed to meet and you hop out, saying a cheerful goodbye to your driver, rajeev, who had taken one look at you and nodded and switched his playlist to something titled GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS which…accurate. he totally earned his five stars and you’re clicking through to leave a quick review—clean car, GREAT music—when beatrice calls your name.

‘hey! you came!’

beatrice strides up the street to join you. the timing of her arrival three seconds after yours is odd enough that, for a second, you wonder if she’s been waiting and for how long. then, you get distracted by beatrice in her gay ass outfit—lightwash jeans, loose, that fall to her ankles; a soft-looking crewneck, blue; and birkenstocks that are either brand new or excruciatingly well-cared for, with not a speck of dirt on the white sandals—and realise you’ve made a huge mistake. there’s no way beatrice can be your wingwoman. every queer woman in this house will flock to her and her damn british accent and her freckles and her polite, comfortable, slightly masculine air, and the way she looks at everyone like they’re important. god. beatrice is devastating at four in the morning in a wetsuit, hair slicked back with ocean water; she’s devastating now, with the sleeves of her crew folded just once, precisely, enough to show off the dip of her wrists, and her hair pinned up in a pristine bun.

she stops mid-step, looks you up and down, and you stop calling yourself an idiot long enough to preen. with beatrice coming tonight, you felt like getting a little dressy and picked everything with slightly more care, ending up in a satin-type top you’ve tucked into high-waisted pants. it drapes open rather handsomely almost to your belly button—you’ve only done up half the buttons tonight, because you believe sincerely in being god’s gift to women and it’s your duty to parade around with a little skin showing, enough to tantalize. maybe a little slutty, just for fun. you’ve got a few chains hanging around your neck, and some rings on your fingers.

‘oh, i am gay,’ beatrice mutters when she gets a good look at you. ‘sorry - that’s,’

you wave off her apology or whatever she’s going to say, because a compliment is a compliment and that is a damn good compliment, especially coming from her.

‘delighted to be of service, honestly. any time you need reminding.’ you stroll over to greet her properly—not a hug, but an obvious once over, so she can see how much you approve of her look too, and then a tap to her elbow in hello—and she examines you a second time, looking marginally less embarrassed to get caught. this time, her eyes linger on your necklaces; no, your cross.

‘catholic?’

‘born and raised. you?’

she only nods, lips pursed. glancing around, she says, ‘the party is around here?’

‘yeah. oh, yeah, it’s on this street. one minute walk, maybe two.’ she looks a little confused and you admit, ‘i wasn’t sure if you actually wanted to come. i wanted to meet up with you first, make sure you were comfortable.’

rather than being offended, beatrice relaxes. ‘that’s kind of you.’

‘well, i want you to have fun. it will be fun,’ you insist, and start in the direction of luis’s place. ‘i’ll take care of you tonight, i promise—you can drink, if you want, or smoke. no pressure. i’ll stay sober anyway. but what i really want is to introduce you to my friends, i really think you’ll like them.’

‘because we’re all queer?’ beatrice guesses, a note of something odd in her tone. it’s not suspicion, but something akin to it.

‘yeah, sure. i know what it’s like moving to a new place and not knowing anyone, it’s rough. especially for us,’ you say, light on the emphasis but apparent enough that beatrice looks at you again, and nods to herself. ‘but aside from being queer, i just really think you’ll like them. luis is the one hosting tonight. they’re super smart, they’re finishing a phd in anthropology, movement in borderlands—oh, and they will offer you weed every half hour but that’s not you, and you don’t have to accept, it’s just their idea of hospitality.’ beatrice nods very solemnly. you can practically hear the information being locked away in her brain and the image makes you smile. ‘it’s this one, up ahead.’

as promised, the party is pretty chill—low lights, not too packed, good music. it’s a really nice night and there are a few folk standing around on the porch, drinks in hand; when you get in, you’ll probably find most of the guests have spilled out into the back yard. plus, you’re only a few streets back from the beach—based on the last few parties luis has hosted, the beach is where you’ll end up in a few hours.

beatrice stops outside the house, stares in through the open door. she touches two fingers to her wrist. you stand with her, beside her, and part of you aches because you know that there is someone else who should be here, who she wants very badly to be here, and it seems terribly unfair that something this simple - a party, new friends, the distant sound of the ocean - isn't simple at all.

‘all good?’

‘thank you,’ she says, softly. ‘for inviting me. and don’t say you need a wingwoman because i sincerely doubt that.’

you grin. run a hand through your hair in a way that makes you look particularly douchey, according to your ex. ‘thanks. i appreciate that. and no, i don’t need a wingwoman but it can’t hurt... except if the girls hear that accent, actually,’ you say with a thoughtful frown, like it’s only occurring to you now that beatrice is hot. you step in front of her like you’re blocking her way to the house, even as you back up toward the house, the party. ‘this is bad, i’ve made a huge mistake, you gotta go,' you insist, teasingly.

beatrice laughs and follows you in.

#tagging my stories #prompt fill #warrior nun #avatrice #sort of but its also like. a love letter to the butch bea world & the introduction of ray my beloved #i need to read it again & edit before i post it to ao3 but its midnight so here have it before i scream

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dr3amofagame · 3 months

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ctechno was not the nice dude everyone wants him to be

oooh interesting take lmao. im gonna insert a courtesy "c!techno is generally a good person and does good" disclaimer bc like, c!techno is generally a good person that does good and cares about people and gets ridiculous amounts of hates for stupid things all the damn time, for the record, but also ... i cant say i dont get what you mean in part?

i think there's a phenomenon with c!techno sometimes where people can make him either too much of a paragon or strip him of too much agency in a way that's weird to me. i mean like, "he's canonically 3 years old" jokes aside, this guy isn't someone whos just doomed to be taken advantage of everyone unless they "respect his boundaries 🥺🙏" and can't assert himself at all and whatever, yknow? like, he can AND DOES assert himself when he thinks it's necessary. he can AND DOES act like an asshole sometimes!

like c!techno is a full, well-rounded character. he gets too angry sometimes and does shit he regrets. he has to make efforts to change. he has feelings, he gets hurt, he lashes out. he's too dismissive sometimes because he copes with shit through humor. he isn't perfect, and that's ... a good thing? it's a good thing that he's a full well rounded interesting character with flaws. but at the same time, pointing out said flaws and treating them as flaws isn't damnation!

like, for example, right, it's perfectly understandable for him to feel used and betrayed by c!tommy. was he also kinda mean to c!tommy in the aftermath in a way that can be pointed out? i mean. yeah of course! and like, of course he was grieving and hurt and in a lot of emotional pain when c!ranboo died and did that probably play into his attitude towards c!dream post-prison break? absolutely! was stripping a guy that is literally being chased down by his literal torturers and a server of people who want to kill him of his armor and telling him he can keep a weapon For A Favor and then going "awwh we didnt get him to use his necromancy powers :/" absolutely still kind of a generally asshole-y thing to do? i mean, YEAH ???? like, if they werent doing that bc of some kind of plan, that was still kind of a jerk thing to do? in a way that's very understandable, because c!techno is a character that becomes more of a jerk when he's stressed and in emotional turmoil. and this isnt about damning him or condemning him ... but i don't see the point of erasing said moments either.

shrug anyway i think c!techno overall was a pretty damn nice dude and a good guy and im kind of trusting that u dont mean this in the same way as certain c!techno takes ive seen back in the day that felt like crucifying him every time he made a joke that broke the fourth wall aSKFJLasf. c!techno should've been meaner, actually, for the record. and it's so awesome that he put c!sam in a prison and cask of amontillado'd that guy, GOD BLESS

#my asks !!#dsmp hot takes #uhhh idk should i tag c!techno critical ?#ill do it but i dont think im being critical AJKLSFJASL he's a good guy he's also like. a guy and not a perfect paragon #disk horse #c!techno critical

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shwarmii · 9 months

Note

how can you like drunk angst over first kiss?? 🥺

anon is regarding this post here, specifically my tags

characters discussed belong to @dakotawritesif / @disenchantedif

omg, so easily lol

bc its not just drunk angst, it is drunk angst about knowing their ex is gonna DIE, UNNATURALLY, AND SOON and pining/having never made up with them

but also im an asmr/audio-roleplay connoisseur*, so like, uh, also the following here. yeah. this primes me up to LOVE drunk ex scenario regret/pining shit lol (you'll have to excuse all these audios being men btw, i have a soft spot for deep voices and there isnt many deep-voiced women VAs in the audio-roleplay community (unfortunately foR MEEEE UGHH), much less many that have a video involving this niche Drunk Ex trope anyway lmao rip (same with the audios all being either "for Anybody" or "for Females". i don't currently have any "for Males" in this niche, even tho im the type of enby that listens to all three types of "for [you]" audios. alas. boo hiss))

none of these are "Luci-Inserts" btw, moreso "Evidence of why OF COURSE I AM MORE HYPED FOR DRUNK HALLWAY OVER FIRST KISS", like a vision board kinda sorta lmao

When Your Ex Drunk Calls You (I Miss You) (Slurred Speech) (Funny) (ASMR) (M4A).. (Fun fact: this VA is Scottish. also M4A = Male For Anyone, not just M4M (male for male) or M4F (male for female))

(this one is by the same Scottish VA) When You Drink With Your Ex (Kissing) (Exes to Lovers) (Drunk) (Regret) (Wholesome) (M4A) (ASMR)

(more of this Scottish VA bc he makes me laugh) When Your Crush Drunkenly Confesses To You (Singing Idiot) (Taking Care Of Him) (Silly) (ASMR) (M4A) (bonus there is a morning-after part two to this one yay)

Your Drunk Best Friend Wants You Gor Valentines [M4A] [Tsundere] [Confession] [Sober Listener] (and this one has a part two about the morning-after too)

ASMR Voice: I Should Have Told You [M4A] [Drunk Voicemail] [Ex-boyfriend] [Missing you] [Regret]

Audio Roleplay for Women | "Orbit" | Drunken Confession

Audio RP: Your Ex-boyfriend Asks For Another Chance [M4A] (not drunk but i love this one) (also it has a part two as well yayyy)

this one ((M4A but he does say you have a "pretty face") bc i do like Luci being upset someone is going to hurt the MC) and this one ((M4F) because i like the frustration lmao rip) also fit the vibe but neither are drunk or exes lmao rip

like, you would think as someone who is chronically ill to the point that my meds say "absolutely no alcohol (and one used to say no weed, idk if im still on that one, id have to go check)" that i would not give a shit about drunk scenarios buT I DO LOVE IT IN FICTION SO MUCH. my irl friends also like getting drunk on/off, or high, and my forced sobriety due to meds (and also family history, let's be honest. i do come from a long line of addicts, apparently, best i dont get involved, and i never have been) means i get to play Designated Driver pretty often. so i do recognize some realities/fantasties in the scenario. but also, god, i love the trope because it allows for such forced vulnerabilities, i fucking love whump fics, and a drunk ex fic is really just a whump fic with no bruises

and, ngl, i do think it is more likely we will get a First Kiss pov somewhere down the line if it loses than i think we will get a Hallway pov if it loses

plus, they were like what, 10?? 11??? idk how old they were when Luci/MC got together. but i know these fuckers are fresh out of high school and Luci is getting drunk, which means biTCHES ARE UNDERAGE DRINKING (which is an interesting characterization for Luci that i think reveals a lot about the Rivera parents as well as Luci's connections to wealth/alcohol), so there is that drama of "hide, hide, hide!!" if nothing else

and, again, then there's not only the angst of "ah, my ex-partner and/or -best friend" and the wanting to make up platonically/romantically but there is also the angst of "i knOW YOU'RE GOING TO GET MURDERED SOON AND IM NOT READY TO GO TO YOUR FUNERAL BUT I DONT KNOW HOW TO STOP THIS" kind of "lost time", "call for rain-check until you can't" angle too. plus, i could see Luci being protective or frustrated or terrified, there are so many fun angles no matter the platonic/romantic additional feelings involved. and, because of how this pov works, there isnt going to be a kiss or anything happening. so it's just going to be slow-burn (to friends or lovers, idk your mc) and pining (platonic pining is a thing), i love that for me specifically lmao

but i do, like, get it. i get what you mean. if i thought this ask was mean-spirited, i wouldve deleted it and not answered; but i read this as "lol yeah that is fucked of me huh lmao you right". bc, YEAH, first kiss is romantic, drunk in your shared hallways is NOT lmao rip but i dont care if its romantic or not, i care that its making my guts get all twisted up. and the angst of (1) drunk ex that needs to taken care of (or needs to run away from you, either or) (2) thinks youre going to be murdered/in an accident and die soon and (3) may/may not still be in love with you and (4) knows they dont have enough time to reconcile with you and make-up for lost time... ngl, that is going to impact me more than a first kiss. im ready for the tragedy. fucking love this kinda shit

also i have my own hcs about my mc, Giselle "Gigi" Kraven, and Luci Rivera's first kiss. so. that probably also plays a role in all this bUT HEY!! IM STILL TRYING FOR THE 50/50 LMAO RIP WE ARE HELPING EACH OTHER, MY COMRADE 🤝 YOU GET (DOOMED) FLUFF AND I GET (ALSO DOOMED) DRUNK ANGST, THAT'S A WIN-WIN LOL

*i would like to add: i have no idea if any of these VAs have drama or something. i dont pay attention to the fandoms, except vaguely for Redacted Audios because of the theories and world-building happening there (which the video here doesnt have much to do with), but otherwise i am so fucking ignorant bc i do not look these people up, i just watch their videos. i have been burned too many times by the Steven Universe fandom and other such communities and whatnot to get involved in fandoms i am only casually into, so i just only stick my nose into fandoms/creators i am die-hard into and dont delve into the rest, thanks for understanding if i may be out of the loop ✌️

#shwarmi #me #disenchanted if #disenchanted #luci rivera #edit: ngl the Cardlin video (or however you spell his name) swuicks me out a bit bc he says ''[I miss] Your body..'' and i went #EW UGH GROSS GET AWAY FROM ME but it was two words so ill allow it to stay on the list bc not everybody is so anti towards the #idea of other people seeing them as sexy. gahh i hate being seen as sexually appealing. makes me wanna gag ugh #*squicks

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rubyreduji · 1 year

Text

My Heart Has Gone To You | 09

pairing: lee jihoon x f!reader ch notes: suggestive/mentions of sexual acts, jealous!jihoon, lots crying but idk if its considered angst w.c.: 2.7k a/n: AHHHH second to last chapter, im gonna miss posting these

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Despite somewhat making up with Jihoon you guys still seem to be avoiding each other, on purpose or not. It’s a few weeks after Christmas and despite still being winter break the Fine Arts Department has another event going on.

It’s a Winter Charity Ball to help get the names out for some of the arts students. You can’t complain too much because this gives you a chance to make some money off of your photography. Different art pieces are going to be auctioned off and the performing arts students are going to perform and get tips and it’s a big deal because some big names are invited every year.

You know a majority of your friends will either be performing or have pieces up for auction. You’re just excited for a reason to get dressed up and spend the night with your friends. The school is paying for everything which means you get to eat expensive food around rich people while promoting your art.

The ball is a week from now and you’re spending your days split between work and hanging out with your friends. You hang out with Hyunwoo often and he has turned into a type of life coach for you, at least when it comes to Jihoon.

“So he apologized?” You’re sitting in his penthouse apartment in a pair of his oversized pajama pants and your bra. Your dress is currently in the washer after it got dirty when you guys fucked in Hyunwoo's car after he took you out for dinner.

“Yes, but it’s awkward. We’re still not talking or seeing each other in person unless the whole friend group is together and even then we barely even look at each other.”

“So why don’t you approach him?” Hyunwoo has a towel hanging low around his hips as he runs a comb through his wet hair. He wanted to take a shower after you guys got back to his apartment.

“Because he’s the one who told me to leave! What if he doesn’t really mean his apology and he doesn’t want me around him so that’s why he’s not making the effort. I don’t want to try only to get hurt again,” you admit. “God can you put some pants on or something?” You can see the outline of Hyunwoo’s cock through the towel and even though he’s not hard, the dick print is still incredibly huge and distracting.

“You act like I wasn’t pounding into your pussy thirty minutes ago kitten,” Hyunwoo quips back but still walks into his room to get dressed. “Now you know I’m always Team Y/N and I know you’re not at fault here, but you keep sulking around about this guy so have you ever considered he’s afraid of you not wanting to be around him? Didn’t you ask for space?”

“Space doesn’t mean ignore me completely,” you groan and flop back onto the couch.

“Darling I hate to break it to you but to some people it does.” Hyunwoo comes and sits by you and picks you up so your head is resting in his lap. His hands play with your hair as he talks to you. “Maybe you should make the first move just to get the ball rolling. He’s probably walking on eggshells around you because he doesn’t want to mess up again. I know it’s not fair to you to keep putting in effort while he doesn’t, but if you have any trust in Jihoon anymore, just try once more. You don’t have to fully forgive him yet, but if you want anything to start getting better you guys need to stop avoiding one another.”

“Why are you so smart?” You whine and roll over so your head is buried into his stomach. You can feel him laughing at you.

“Ah, it comes with age.”

“Yeah because you’re fucking ancient,” you snort.

“Oh you’re really going to regret that kitten.” Before you know it you’re in the air and Hyunwoo is carrying you towards his bedroom. “Let’s see just how ancient I am.”

You stare at yourself in the mirror. You’re in a silky deep blue evening gown that has thin straps and a slit up the leg. The cut is a little deep but the skirt is flowy and not tight so you can’t complain too much. You have on some silver strappy heels and Sana has done your makeup for you.

“Stop staring at yourself, you look sexy!” Sana bursts into your room.

“How did you know I was staring at myself?” You frown at the girl.

“Because I know you Y/N. Now let’s go, Nayeon is waiting for us.” Sana shoves your silver clutch into your hand and nearly drags you out the door.

The ball is taking place at a hotel that’s not far from the campus and when you get there it’s only students milling around waiting for the event to start. When you walk into the building you peel away from your friends and go find your photography professor who is overjoyed to see you.

“Y/N! These works are lovely as always. I’ve left your information next to all of your pieces but you can go check the setup if you want to change some things.” You thank him before going off to find your work. They’re in the back of the room near the other pieces of artwork. You admire your own and others’ work before a voice startles you.

“Y/N! You look so gorgeous!” It’s Soonyoung and before you can even react he’s scooping you up in his arms.

“Hey Soonie,” you giggle. “You look nice as well.” His outfit is kept simple and you think it’s because he’ll be dancing tonight. Him, Jun, Minghao, and Chan would be singing and dancing together again to a song called “Highlight”.

A voice comes over the microphone announcing the guests will be here soon and everyone starts to get together so be able to start promoting themselves. The people who are performing first go get ready and you find yourself standing by yourself close to one of the walls.

You make a little bit of talk with a few of your friends and a few of the guests as well. Your professor updates you every once in a while when one of your pieces is bought as well. Your eyes scan the crowd and you notice the boy who’s been on your mind all week.

Jihoon is dressed in a black suit with a maroon button up and a black bowtie. His hair is styled out of his face for once and you can’t help but note how handsome he looks. He’s holding a cup of what is most likely water as he talks with Seungcheol and Hansol.

He’s going to be singing tonight towards the end of the event but you don’t know what song. You think it would be nice to hear him sing “Simple” or “Second Life”.

“Ah, hiding away I see.” It’s Minghao who approaches you this time.

“I’m not hiding Hao.” You roll your eyes at the younger boy. “I’m just observing. I’m not really in the mood to mingle tonight.”

“Well then come dance with me.” He holds out his hand and you sigh but take it. He leads you to the dance floor and you’re thankful the song playing right now is a slower song. Minghao holds you gently as you guys sway around to the music.

“Okay Jihoon-hyung, be honest, what’s going on between you and Y/N-noona?” Hansol asks Jihoon as he’s staring at you and Minghao on the dance floor.

Jihoon sighs and finally pulls his eyes away from you. “I messed up, but I’m going to make it right.”

Seungcheol lets out a low whistle and Jihoon turns around so he can look at what Seungcheol is looking at. Tapping on Minghao’s shoulder to butt into your dance is Hyunwoo. He’s dressed in a silver suit with a silky blue button up to match your own ensemble. Minghao is moving out of the way so he can bend down to kiss your cheek and sweep you up into his own arms for a dance.

“Is that the guy Y/N-noona is seeing?”

“She’s not seeing him,” Jihoon spits out.

“I don’t know hyung, they look like they’re seeing each other,” Hansol mutters.

You have a smile spread across your face and you’re giggling every so often as Hyunwoo and you dance around. You guys look comfortable with each other. Jihoon knows you guys are friends but he’s still a bit upset at the appearance of the model, especially with how low his hands are on your back.

“He’s staring,” Hyunwoo says as he smiles down at you. “He’s literally in love with you Y/N. I know I’m not his biggest fan and he’s not mine, but he looks like he wants to cut my hands off for touching you.”

Recently Hyunwoo has been trying to convince you that Jihoon is in love with you back (“Just because he apologized doesn’t mean he’s in love with me.” “Oh but it does darling.”). He only knows your side of the story, and he’s still very anti-Jihoon, but he fully believes it’s true. He had the great plan of trying to make Jihoon jealous tonight so he could kick start you guys talking again. He knows that Jihoon messed up and he has a lot of making up to do, but he also wants to see you happy and loved. He also knows that if Jihoon ever messes up again he’ll be at his door ready to beat him up.

“Maybe if we sneak off for a little bit he’ll come find us,” Hyunwoo teases and you slap at his chest. He then bends down to whisper in your ear. “C’mon kitten you know you love it when I get you all riled up.”

Shivers run down your back but that doesn’t stop you from glaring at Hyunwoo. “Behave yourself.” He lets out a deep chuckle.

“Ooh lover boy is fuming now.”

You resist the urge to look over at Jihoon, instead rolling your eyes and moving your bodies so Jihoon isn’t in view of Hyunwoo anymore.

“Other than Jihoon, there are other people staring at us, who are they?” You look over your shoulder to see your friends giggling and looking at you. You groan.

“Unfortunately those are my friends who think we are boning.”

“Y/N darling, I hate to break it to you, but we are boning.”

“Oh shut up.”

You’re talking to Nayeon and Hyunwoo when the lights dim a bit and you hear someone start to speak into the mic.

“Hello, my name is Lee Jihoon, but musically I go by Woozi. I’m a singer-songwriter and a music producer. I’m going to be singing two songs for you guys tonight.”

You turn towards the front of the room, and there, center stage, is Jihoon. The piano has been moved to the center of the stage and he sits there, facing the audience.

“These songs both mean a lot to me and are written for someone very special in my life. I recently made a very big, stupid mistake, and these songs are to express my remorse for them and to try and make things better with that person. This first one is called ‘Don’t Wanna Cry’.”

Jihoon’s fingers fly across the keys as he starts to play the song. Your throat tightens as he starts to sing. He’s written more songs for you. Songs to show how sorry he is.

“Because I love you, because the words I love you isn’t enough, no matter what I say,” he sings and you feel tears already welling up in your eyes.

Jihoon loves you.

You know Hyunwoo is saying something along the lines of “I told you so” but you can’t focus on anything else other than Jihoon. Your eyes don’t leave his form the whole time as he sings. You’re not even sure if you’re breathing.

“My heart won’t listen like I want. Come back, come back, come back. My other half isn’t here so how can I live as one? I don’t wanna cry.”

By the time he’s done singing you’ve drifted closer to the stage. You’re sure that Jihoon sees you now and he stares at you for a moment before he starts talking again.

“Once again that is called ‘Don’t Wanna Cry’. This next song is to express my love for this person. I hope that it reaches their heart. This song is titled ‘Home’.”

His fingers start playing again and this time while he sings Jihoon’s eyes bounce between looking at the keyboard and looking at you.

“It’s still cold outside, the tip of my nose is tingling. Though we’re far away, the memories bring us closer. If your heart has a hole I’ll cover it with my hands. Even if your hands are empty, give them to me so I can fill them up.” By now tears are streaming down your face and you don’t care if you’re ruining your makeup. “Tell me, you’re mine, tell me, I’m yours. Tell me, you’re in me.”

When Jihoon finished the room erupts into applause but he can’t even focus on them. His eyes are on you as you stand in front of the stage, tears coming out of your eyes. He quickly thanks the audience before walking off the stage and straight to you.

You meet him halfway through and suddenly you’re in his arms and he’s holding you tight, thinking about how he’ll never let you go again. He wipes at your tears with his thumb and he holds your face in his hands. You’re sniffling and trying not to start crying again. He leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead. He moves his hand from your face to grip your hand tightly in his.

“Can we talk?”

You’re nodding and then he’s leading you out of the venue. In the lobby of the hotel there is an arrangement of couches and Jihoon brings you over to one hidden in the corner. You guys sit down and you’re aware you’re basically sitting in Jihoon’s lap but you don’t particularly care.

“Hey baby.”

“Hi Hoonie.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

You nod but you’re still crying a bit and can’t totally get the words out. Jihoon just holds you and rocks back and forth, telling you to take your time and that it’s okay. Despite your conflicting feelings you melt into his body, finding you’ve missed his touch more than you thought.

You are able to get your bearings straight and you sniffle as you sit up a bit so you can look at Jihoon. “I’m going to talk, and you’re going to listen, okay?” Jihoon nods at your words. “You really hurt me Jihoon.”

You have been working out your feelings and what you would say to Jihoon with Hyunwoo but even now you’re nervous. You can’t even describe the emotions you’ve felt the past few months, so you tell him that. You understand that every story has two sides and that Jihoon had his reasons for his actions, but that doesn’t stop them from affecting you.

You explain to Jihoon just how everything hurt you and your thoughts on the whole situation. You talk about how you just wanted to help him and look out for him and he pushed you away and shut you out. You even call him out for how unfair it was for him to demean the work you’ve put into your career when he knows how hard you’ve been working. The whole time Jihoon nods, eyes only on you, and you can tell he is truly listening.

“With that all being said though, I know how much you’ve been repenting. I know how sorry you are and I trust in you to understand your mistakes and better yourself from them. I want to be friends again, but we’re going to have to take it slow, and I want to see progress in you Jihoon. Okay?”

Jihoon nods at your words. “Thank you Y/N, this means the world to me. I promise I’m going to be better now.”

“And Jihoon?”

“Yes Y/N?”

“I love you too.”

taglist: @pandorashbox @calvinkleinhoon @leejihoonownsmyheart @soonhoonietrash @crimsonnwitch @d-noona @niktwazny303 @brxzilianbaby @moshiyuron @chaimi-yuta @embrace-themagic @kayleeshinee @coupsgyus @joonsytip @luvthatleader-nim @wonchansbrooklynn @d0nghyck @stoprunningfornothing @noniestars @heavenly-mobo @sunnyteume @vtn-dahyun @honeylovemoon @debsworld23 @m1nghaos @lovelyp3ach @niyizh @cbgisland @kpopandbitchcraft @lorde-oftherings @mashihwan @17kwans @jeanjacketjesus @hoeforcheol @x-veex @synthetickitsune

join my taglist: here!

#seventeen #seventeen fanfic #woozi #lee jihoon #woozi fanfic #woozi series #woozi imagines #woozi scenarios #svt woozi #woozi x reader #lee jihoon fanfic #kpop fanfic #rru.fics #rru.mhhgty #rru.writes #★ mdni

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istherewifiinhell · 2 months

Text

[thing im thinking about all the fucking time] i have my g1 megs tag as 'hold that man who is a gun' in honour of funny thing said by someone not prepared to watch an 80s cartoon where a man does in fact hold another man who is a gun. but rather its my tag for the SPECIFIC vibe of. well. when he is held. as a gun. but its a tag i cannot rb posts into cause its apparently TOO specific a vibe.

youd think well, hes a man who is a gun. techicnally this puts him semi under popular tropes of 'living weapon [person dedicates their life to the purpose of violence]' and 'living weapon [person who is objectfied and wielded in violence (comma, literally)]'

but do u know what the god damn problem is. [not with the tropes just with me wanting populate this tag] the gimmick with the first is often about like. regret and remorse. oh theyve become a weapon but life is so much more than that. oh theyve done horrible things thats sad. and worst of all [again for my purposes] now lets heal them from this. lets see them not be this thing any more.

this does not work for my purposes cause. well. He's a gun. and hes a gun cause he wants to shoot people. hes pretty good at it when hes not a gun too. im positive in the grand scope of tf land theres A Megs who fits that kinda vibe. you know. the war is long. or its over. and hes left with the thing hes made of himself. but, to use a phrase from my fav tf toy review. g1 megs is Bad Bastard. hes a warlord. hes a goddamn cartoon villian. the only thing that ever forces his hand imminent treats to his life. which are usually, 1. whatever planet hes currently on is moments away from collasping, imploding, or exploding. 2. literally the most powerful forces of raw power or malevolence in the setting.

thats it. at all other times he seems pretty cool and of his own volition of the whole. Being a gun thing. also he tends to solve those other problems also by Being a gun. a gun that can talk and negotiate and compromise when needed but. still. the necessity of Being the Gun is pretty strong.

the second trope, the mismatch is completely on the objectivified versus object part. if someone is literally objectived and wielded, they are no longer in control, but they are still the instrument of violence. if metaphorical, perhaps the location of violence, the means of violence, but not the true perpetrator. either way. often a feeling that the body is not their own.

but with megs its like, yeah he turns into a hand gun! not a tank. or an automated cannon or turret (thats galv. aka purple megs, which interestingly is him being reformated to one of those malevolent forces will). so hes is an object. that other people can hold, and fire. someone else infact, needs to fire, (well give or take for loose continuity). but the thing is, this is not really a predictament that OTHER people put him into. hes a Man. who is a gun. part of his body is that he is also a gun. he can choose when he transforms, and Be a Gun. And then held, and fired. the depiction of it is usually quite authoritative. and just personality wise. hes not gonna let people forgot that HES THE GUN.

and i mean. to address the holding. specifically to single out oppie. thats someone who is supposedly. less about this whole shooting everything business. i mean. dont get me wrong he very much has a gun and uses it often. its War and hes the Good Guy™. but well he is Not a Gun, and he would not Want to be a gun.

so like. what u have is instead this dynamic of a very bossy gun that takes delight in Being the gun, that sometimes needs to throw himself into the hands of a guy who in the perfect world wouldnt shoot anything.

now granted. extant examples of this are more like 'shoot thing into space' or 'shoot the thing before it explodes' than, more pointed violence thats posed by the presence of The Gun. but go with me here. vibes.

The gun is the means of violence. But to be 'willing to pull the trigger' is to be willing to allow yourself to be the cause, the catalysts of that. so really it is the person who is NOT the gun who becomes implicated in the violence. he is forced to under circumstance, but not, importantly, literally forced, controlled or otherwise overriden.

and ofc. also regarding the intimacy of this arrangement. to complete this act of violence is to hold another person, or to fling yourself towards them and be held. completely fitting into the hands. but its a choice to be held and a choice to catch. and in showing this in smooth and compotent action, implies the not just physical prowess but automatic cooperation and perhaps comfort in the circumstance.

and The Gun is completely fine with this whole situation and is probably gonna laugh at the guy who isnt a gun and say something funny and innuendous as soon as possible.

#some shit #its not called cisformers #collasping on a chaise cause i CANNOT infact make everything about blorbo from my shows. im trying.#UNFORTUNATELY thing that those bad machinmas got so right was having a like. retired megs that was not regretful or remorseful at all #he was just kinda a bored shitkicker fucking around in an abandoned gladiator ring fighting for fun. completely confident in and happy abt #his ablity to do violence Better Than everyone else. and ingeneral was just kinda a tactless asshole.

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aroacesigma · 9 months

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do you have any sigzai hcs (or just hcs about sigma or dazai separately)

you're going to regret asking this . headcanons under the cut cause im gonna feel annoying otherwise . most of them are what i headcanon as happening like post canon in a nice world where everyone is alive and happy lol

sigzais <3

ok so to me they are THE transmasc qpps ever . i might be projecting a little but both dazai and sigma are both so transmasc to me. on one hand you have sigma who wears 10 billion shirt layers and a long ass coat and goes on and on about being an ordinary man, and then on the other hand you have dazai who also wears clothes like that and bandages over his chest

hc sigma as oriented aroace with ???? orientation . hes just very confused . theyre so confused . and dazai as bi aroacespec and not particularly averse to any stuff just doesnt feel the attraction most of the time

poor sigma has spent all this time around fyolai like 'god why the fuck are people like this' and then he meets dazai and is like ohhhhhhh. oh .

when sigma joins the ada (and they will u mark my words) him and dazai end up sharing an apartment

at first dazais excited because maybe he wont be living off horrible cooking

unfortunately sigma also cannot cook for shit . he fucking sucks . legitimately the only thing he can cook is cookies in a packet mix .

sigma is unfortunately going through the same phase that kids of controlling parents go through when they finally get freedom, which is making a bunch of stupid decisions . dazai , being the wonderful boyfriend he is, is encouraging all the dumb decisions because he thinks its funny

most of their dates is just going to cafes because sigma has the worlds most horrendous sweet tooth and sigma has no moral objections to guilt tripping him into it

despite being pretty bad at it themself, sigma has a tendency to hit dazai with a pillow until he takes care of himself

vice versa dazai will be a distracting little bitch and wont stop if he thinks sigma is overworking himself

sigma

he/they sigma is so real to me btw just need everyone to know this . they like messing around with neos as well sometimes i think

even though he's pretty much always tired , isnt really a huge fan of coffee , definitely prefers really fancy tea and energy drinks

decided to run with the whole purple thing cause of his hair , abolutely loves the colour. anything he owns is purple if they can get it .

smiles all happy while listening to music in a way that makes you think its something nice . its not . his only musical requirements are loud and screaming to drown out the Anxiety™

not my headcanon but i saw someone say once that they headcanon that occasionally people get an uncanny valley kinda vibe from looking at him cause of his weird origins and honestly i think thats pretty interesting

very happy to join the ada . not quite as impressed by the paycheck .

like , really not impressed by the paycheck . theyre struggling with the dwindling clothes budget . i can totally see him trying to decide whether he wants dinner or new earrings . and probably picking the earrings .

they get along with everyone at the agency really well . a few people dont really trust him straight up but atsushi and dazai vouching for him shuts that down relatively quickly

he gets along the best with atsushi

they have a friendly rivalry with kunikida . agency productivity going straight up just because those two keep trying to outdo each other

dazai

100% has multiple troll accounts online . he enjoys being a menace . not in the mean way , in the absolutely fucking infuriating kind of way

remained in denial (or more oblivious really) about being trans until he was 16 because he asked chuuya if everyone felt like that one time and chuuya was like well yeah (also trans and stupid)

on a related note (this one is kind of about dazai and chuuya but it still counts) mori was kind of like ohhh teenage boys are so much easier to deal with right ? kouyou decided it was best not to inform him that hrt gives you mood swings .

adhd. adhd. adhd.

hes a candy crush mum . its a problem .

eats everyone at the ada's food . but he doesnt eat the whole thing he'll just take a bite . its high up on kunikidas 'things that make me want to string dazai up by his legs and attach him to a ceiling fan' list

has been known to send 12 yr olds graphic violent death threats after losing to them in video games

he has the music taste of a 14 yr old cishet girl . i will let you decide what that entails .

my deepest apologies for making you read all this but i love them both dearly and i have lots of Thoughts

#asks #dreamsicle262 #sigzai #sigma #dazai #ramblings #headcanons i like

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lollytea · 4 months

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ms. lolly i'm getting glasses and i'm afraid i'm going to look uglier than usual in them. i don't want people to make fun of me (esp. not the guy i like. i dont think he will bc he's sweet but im still anxious) but. i'm afraid that people are gonna tease me. idk what to do and im super nervous bc i'm not attractive and i think the glasses are gonna just bring that out. do u have any tips on getting over that, as a glasses-wearer? (at least im assuming by your pfp)

sorry to disturb u with my silly ask but i hope u have a great day <3 love ur writing and huntlow posts

Hello! This kind of thing is hard to give advice on but I'll try my best :D! It's kinda like asking what kind of clothes will make you feel the most confident when only you know for sure what makes you comfortable and what doesn't. But I can definitely give you my opinions on glasses and what I feel best in and maybe you can take it into consideration.

(EDIT: OH MY GOD. I wrote a good bit about choosing glasses to feel nice in but I just read the ask again and it's possible you've already gotten them. Just scroll down to the bottom of the ask and I'll talk a bit about that if it's the case.)

You worry about not liking the way you'll look with glasses. That's okay, I've been wearing them since I was little so I feel really ugly without them. It's fine to feel a little insecure. But hopefully you'll find a pair that you think you like nice in!!

For the first ten years of wearing glasses, I had really small, thin wiry ones. Blegh. No wonder I felt so ugly during that time. They were not it. Was looking like this bitch.

But just cuz I didn't like the way they looked on me doesn't automatically mean you won't! Everyone's face is different.

Size matters (HAH) to me. I feel more happy and confident with the way my face looks with glasses depending on how big they are. I like how big glasses look. So when I was 18 I got THESE frames

And I liked them a lot!! I decided I like big wide glasses. So any frames I got from this point forward would look kinda like this.

However!! I kinda regretted the colour. It's like having a big big blocky border around your face dulls it a bit. So when I got new ones a few years later, I wanted them to be lighter. To brighten up the face area. These ones!!

They're pink!!! Or red maybe. But they're pink to ME!!! They are also EVEN BIGGER than the black pair I had. They're HUGE asgdbjnk. And I love them huge. The bigger the better. They're not really circular but they're also kinda roundish and I like that too.

So I guess think about the size, shape and colour. Would you like something more subtle like a small pair? Would you like them big and round? Getting them in a colour that you like Would definitely help!!

The thickness of the frames also matters. Maybe, since you're a little worried about how you'll look wearing them, you'd like something thinner? More subtle? Something in a pale colour/or without much of a border at all? Something that doesn't hide your face

Maybe something similar to this?

(I mean the frame thickness, not the size ahsbdjnk. We don't know what size you'd like yet.)

I kinda want glasses that look like this. I want thin gold ones like Miss Willow Park from hit Disney channel show the Owb Houb. However I don't really have that option. I'm borderline blind so I need the thick plastic frames to hold the thick as fuck lenses ahsbdjnk.

But since this is your first pair your eyes probably aren't nearly as bad and you have way more options!!

OKAY!! So if you've already chosen your glasses and are still worried about how you're going to look in them.

Alright, there are never any easy answers to this problem. How to get over not liking the way you look. People definitely like to pretend it's easy, that "Love yourself! Everyone is beautiful! :)" are these magic words that will suddenly rewire our brains into being happy and content with ourselves after a lifetime of feeling like the odd one out. When some people are put on a pedestal for how they look and some are not. It's hard to say physical ugliness doesn't exist when it's been beaten into everyone's heads that it does.

Despite everyone's best efforts to dismantle the concept of beauty standards, they persist relentlessly. They're roots in our brains, roots in society, and they're roots made of iron. So it is nobody's fault for being unsatisfied with themselves even after trying for so long to forcibly inject some girlboss confidence into their bloodstream. Its hard. It will always be hard.

If self love isn't easy at the start, aim for self neutrality. Just not hating is a good place to start.

It seems like you're not comfortable with yourself without glasses, so maybe if we start with that, your face with glasses will be way easier to accept.

In the end, you only have the one face to get you through this lifetime. And it's a lifetime you will waste if you spend it wishing it was different.

Everyone's face is a rearrangement of facial features, none of which are inferior to anyone else's, no matter what we've been mentally trained to believe.

You're a masterpiece all on your own. Every feature on your face belonged to someone in your family who came before you. Every feature you have was once adored by someone else. Specifically because it was a feature that belonged to a very wonderful person.

One day there will be someone who loves you more than anything. They'll love you so much than when they see a face that even looks remotely like yours they'll think that it's beautiful.

If it helps, mess around with your appearance a little. What colours do you like? Patterns? Skirts? Button up shirts? Long hair? Short hair? Dyed hair? Cardigans? Jangly jewelry? Figure out what's the most beautiful to you and add them to yourself. If you don't like your face, drown it out with what you do like. Until it gets to the point where its so distinctly you that you couldn't imagine this whole look without your face attached to it.

If you get to that point where you can feel happy with how you look as your default, then sliding a pair of glasses on and off shouldn't make much of a difference.

Thank you for telling me you like my writing and my posts. You seem sweet. I'm sure that's what people think when they're reminded of you. I'm sure that's what the guy you mentioned thinks. How can a person really be ugly if you associate their face with warmth and kindness?

Stay kind to others. Be kind to yourself. There's not much else I can say.

Good luck, love <33

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okthatsgreat · 11 months

Note

that reblog about asking random questions about fics..... hmmmm. ive been curious for a while now - what's your thought process behind opddmh? any particular theme you've had fun exploring, or a potential overarching idea? i love hearing people explain the intricacies of their writing processes

ohhhhh my god oh my god. you have unleashed something within me ohhhhh my god. something cringe is awakening something very cringe is happening to me right now

referring to this post, talking about this fic :]

(im gonna put all of this under read more for the people that dont want to read this LMAO)

OKAY. TIME TO GET SO STUPID. IM SO SORRY FOR BEING LIKE THIS

at the core of this fic is trauma-- it's a story about emerging from indescribable pain and horror, only to walk into a world that treats you as a spectacle and your pain as entertainment. so much of opddmh's themes come from trauma, as every character's pov deals with it in distinct ways, none of which are particularly healthy LMAO. going into each characters pov, my thought process is always concerning how they would react to the situation in front of them, but always keeping that trauma over them as another deciding (often overpowering) factor. makoto at his core is still a caring man, but he has been so deprived by the company that has kept him there for so long that his natural response to unpleasant emotions or thoughts is to bury it in sake of putting on a show. mikan has always been very timid and regretful, but now many of her actions are sincerely doubted as being selfish or secretly evil, a temperament only aggravated by her status as blackened. akane's desire to "be strong" has only worsened to an extreme degree, as her first instinct is to drop anybody that could possibly remind her of weakness or the killing game.

these are killing game participants who are no longer the children they were when all of this started, people who did not sign up for this but have to keep going anyways-- and i LOVE exploring the implication of that postgame it is like a drug to me. theyve gone through unimaginable horror, most of them dont have families they can return to, and everybody in the world knows them as a beloved tv character. the only way for them to survive is to adapt, a strategy that not all of them have mastered. makoto, whose title as ultimate hope has been watered down sooooo so much, is the POSTER child (literally) for adapting, while characters like akane have still been significantly silenced by danganronpa but are unable to adapt entirely. it was important to me that i had povs which were different yet cohesive, and were able to convey the range of survival that these older participants have :] and this includes the secret fifth pov that hasnt been introduced yet >:)

these are no longer people in the public's eyes as much as they are entertainers (which by the way, i love writing this aspect of postgame dr lololol the PERFORMANCE of it all). my friend lily made such a good comment about it at one point and i dont remember her exact words but it was something along the lines of "the audience doesn't want the performer, they want the performance" which is soo true of this universe in particular. so when i write these different people i like to keep in mind the person they are and they person they present themselves as. so many of the older participants are so jaded its insane

but then theres v3!! there are NEW kids here. trauma is so important as a theme when it comes to how these characters interact with each other, and ESPECIALLY how the older characters are able to see themselves in the younger ones. a lot of the character dynamics were chosen deliberately so that the v3 kids mirror the older participants!!!!!!!!!!!!! v3 hasn't been desensitised just yet, they haven't lost touch with their anger and sadness and fear like a lot of the older participants have. i find it important while writing to remember how NEW these kids are, especially when it comes to writing people like miu, who isn't ready to give in to danganronpa conformity just yet and is trying her hardest to be better (or at the very least, not the same miu iruma, ultimate inventor that everybody watched on their television screens). and then of course you have characters like angie and rantaro, who are DEEEEEEEEP in denial and unable to properly move out of that first stage of grief just yet lmao. they are fortunate(????) enough that the journey they go through is a lot more private than some of the other characters can say theirs were. a lot of the time i write about the newer v3 participants i make an effort to refer to them as young or as children/teens because they Are. theyre so Young and it definitely effects how they handle themselves !!!

so much of this fic is about trauma but so much of it is finding strength in others as well, even if its moving slowly towards it lol. it's important to me that there is hope in the fic, that even though it feels like they are very isolated at the moment they arent entirely alone. things get worse before they get better but they do get better and i wanted there to be peace in the relationships they build with each other

also fun fact this story was originally a one shot where miu jumps into makotos car they chat and then he drops her back where she came from lol! would have really cut this story short!

n e ways thank you anonymous i love you <3 so so sorry for being so serious about my own fic ghfdjhgsdjhgkfdjhgdksghfskjghdj </3

#THANK YOUUUUUUU THANK YOU!!!!!#IM SO SORRY FOR RAMBLING!#i have got to calm down this is a danganronpa fic.#need to practice restraint #ask lee #opddmh #anonymous

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