what if one day steve and danny stumble into what they think is a crime scene but actually turns out to be the production of a cop tv show and the more they find out about the show the more familiar all the details seem until they realise to their horror that someone is making a tv show about a fictionalised version of their team. of course it's highly sensationalised and inaccurate but has just enough details for it to feel creepy and make steve and danny suspect someone they know has fed the production some information. (jerry, it was definitely jerry)
turns out they can't shut it down because all personal information has been changed and there's not enough actual accuracy in the show to impact their procedure/operations since the viewers don't care about accuracy so much as entertainment and interpersonal relationships between characters.
they are, however, welcome to stay and watch the filming as long as they don't interfere. it's actually a bit amusing to watch their all too familiar banter from the outside, danny grins and pointedly looks at steve when his counterpart lectures his partner about recklessly risking his life and steve smirks when his calls danny's 'a nagging wife' which makes danny huff and glare adorably.
nothing could've prepared them to what they saw next, when their characters' usual heated argument suddenly turns into them making out against the wall in the interrogation room right in front of the 'suspect'.
their simultaneous 'what the hell?' startles everyone but the writer and director defend their choice 'just because it didn't happen like that with you guys doesn't mean we aren't allowed some creative license and our viewers respond well to passion. especially since two episodes ago captain o'malley finally confessed his undying love for his partner and sergeant walters reciprocated they are supposed to be unable to keep their hands off of each other. just like you were, i imagine, when you first succumbed to the obvious attraction between you two. all that flirting couldn't be for nothing.'
afterwards danny is quiet and steve angrily promises to have a word with jerry. when they confront him steve asks why, on top of everything, would jerry say that steve and danny are a couple? they are in for another shock when jerry says that he didn't. apparently the production team just assumed, based on all the details and behaviour, because it made more sense for their characters to be romantically involved rather than not.
steve is rattled because he feels exposed but the absence of danny's ranting is worrying so he overcomes his fear to ask what's wrong. danny surprises him with how small and resigned he sounds when he murmurs 'is the idea of being in love with me really so off-putting to you??'
steve realizes his reaction was misinterpreted and ended up hurting danny's feelings so now he has to risk admitting the truth even if it means making things awkward because he can't stand danny thinking he's not worthy of his or anyone else's love.
he never realised he was that obvious and being confronted with the opposite made him act defensively. 'i was bitter, and resentful, it felt like they were throwing what i could never have in my face. how unlikely is it to be hopelessly in love with your best friend and have him magically reciprocate? the chances are probably one in a billion'.
steve is afraid he made things awkward with his confession and tries to leave a speechless danny, until he is stopped with a hand on his wrist and a blinding smile. 'you big oaf, did it never occur to you that i am your one in a billion? now let's make our fictional selves jealous.'
once they are done making up for lost time they send jerry a gift basket.
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literally it's 3am where i live and i'm on mobile but FUCK IT i haven't posted any actual writing in like a YEAR on this blog whose description include the words "I WRITE" and i can't tell if i'm even going anywhere with this so fuck it under the cut is the prospective absolute mess of the first chapter of the flipo family time loop fic. (for clarity, flipo family as in slime, mariana, and juanaflippa) this covers loop 0, aka the relevant parts of canon. words: 1630
parts of it i popped off with and other parts i hate; up to you to identify them. also the italics and other formatting got erased when i copy pasted and i'm re-adding all of it by hand so if i missed a spot, no i didn't. if i missed an accent on a letter in spanish that was a typo, if i missed a ¡ or ¿ that may have been on purpose.
oh and for obvious reasons, content warning for mentions and mild descriptions of child death and child murder. no blood, and most of it is a three word mention; i'd say the brief paragraph beginning "Tilín didn't scream" is most of the reason this warning exists.
Charlie Slimecicle stepped off the train.
He’d been hoping for a bright, sunny day to start their vacation, but was sorely disappointed. The portal had apparently taken them pretty far, since they’d gone from noon to night time. Talk about jetlag. They hadn’t even been on a plane.
“What happened to the other guys?” he wondered aloud as he stepped onto the platform.
“Yeah no clue,” Phil said, scanning the empty station. “Thought they’d meet us here.”
“Guys!” one of the Spanish speakers--Vegetta, he’d said, when they’d all met up at the first station--called, from a lectern at the wall. “There is a book!”
They crowded around as he read the instructions aloud--something about pressure plates, Slime wasn’t paying that close of attention. He was a little more preoccupied with making sure it only felt like his brain was dripping out of his ears. That would be kind of embarrassing.
Which was not to say that he wasn’t enjoying the constant onslaught of people talking over each other using words he may or may not understand. In fact, it was the opposite; he was frankly thriving in the absolute chaos that kicked back up around him as a timer appeared in the wrist communicators they’d been provided along with their tickets.
“Como se dice ‘we are going to die now’?” He giggled, chasing Phil and Fit to one end of the station.
“¡Vamos a morir!” shouted Spiderman, echoed seconds later by the black bear in the collared shirt.
Giddy over the high of attempting to use his high school foreign language for the first time maybe ever, Slime absolutely didn’t contribute much to solving the puzzle, and before long the sound of the timer ticking down was accompanied by a loud buzzing alarm.
“It’s been an honor!” he shrieked at the top of his lungs. “It’s been an honor!”
The bear ran past them again, shouting, “I’m going to die!” in English this time.
“Adiós amigos!” Slime yelled.
The countdown ended.
And then his communicator buzzed, and there was a video playing on the screen, showing a cartoonish yellow duck in front of a blurry beach stock photo. He skimmed it absently--some generic welcoming message and another side quest for them--distracted by Maximus audibly losing his shit laughing across the station.
“Come on, I’m trying to take a vacation, I gotta work now?” Fit complained. “This is ridiculous.”
Slime wanted to jump on that bit, but the message cut off with coordinates marred by static and the noise of the emergency weather alert system and he lost his train of thought completely.
“I got the English book!” Spreen called, holding it with two fingers like it had personally offended him.
“English leader,” Vegetta said, seeming to find that amusing.
“English leader.” Spreen laughed and flicked the book away. Slime stepped back but somehow it still nailed him in the chest.
“Guess I’m reading then,” he said cheerfully.
“In Spanish?” Maximus said.
“Um.”
Vegetta called something, backing across the plaza with the book open in his hands. Phil backed up to the wall.
“Here,” Phil instructed, “we’ll read it here.”
“Okay okay.” He flicked it open. “So we have to get water wheel planks--”
Their peace lasted a grand total of thirty seconds as voices suddenly began shouting, overlapping in chaotic chorus.
“What is that?” Fit demanded.
“Is that coming from the other side?” Phil stared up at the top of the wall.
“This is the thinnest thick wall I’ve ever seen,” Slime said, giddy laughter bubbling out of him again. “Is this thing made out of pencil shavings? If I sneeze on it, is there gonna be a hole?”
“Nevermind, we’ll read it over here.” Phil dragged them away again, but the Spanish speakers were dispersing into the trees.
“Forget the book,” Fit said, “follow them!”
(In the end it was explosives that took the wall down, which in hindsight was a precursor to how a not insignificant portion of time on the island was spent. The first day, however, it was just funny, much like everything else.)
(That was to say, the first first day.)
The communicator had indicated that today there was something special planned, so he made an extra effort to wake up.
“Morning Jaiden!” he called to his upstairs neighbor.
“Hi Charlie!” He could hear her farming through the wall. “Glad you woke up on time!”
“Well you know, you know, El Backflipo couldn’t miss it,” he joked, sifting through his backpack. “Got any spare food? I’ll trade you uno backflipo.”
“I have so much toast, come here and get some, free of charge.”
With a quick backflip and some toast to start the day, he popped open the map.
“There’s a lot of people down the wall,” he noted, their green dots so clustered they formed one. “Wanna check it out?”
“Yeah sure.” Jaiden tossed some seeds into a chest. “Do you know what this event’s gonna be?”
“I have no idea,” he admitted cheerfully.
She laughed. “Yeah, me neither. I guess there’s an egg involved, but that’s all I know.”
He dug around in his backpack for a paraglider, nodding along. “Yeah, yeah, un huevo, I get you.” Shuffling the landmine from Vegetta to one side, he yanked out his glider and threw himself out her window. “Let’s go!”
(nothing like getting struck by lightning to wake a guy up in the morning)
Slime fiddled with the communicator as he waited for the line of people to get through the ticket machine; he already had his own, a nice B for Backflipo. The new live translations still boggled his mind. He had to fight the urge to chant weird shit under his breath, just to see what the bubbles would say.
He paid a little extra attention when Mariana walked up to the machine. That guy seemed cool. They’d done that pequeño dormir together on day one, and he had a good sense of humor. Egg parenting would probably be funny.
He was thrilled to see the B for Backflipo on the ticket Mariana stepped away with, even if Mariana was decidedly less so. This was gonna be good.
(it was, and it wasn’t)
So, Mariana wasn’t exactly the coparent of dreams. Then again, Slime was pretty sure Mariana could say the same about him. In fact he was pretty sure Mariana had said the same, but in Spanish, when he wasn’t checking the translation.
It was great. They thought they’d killed a child immediately and then decided to fake their own child’s death to get away with it, and then confessed their sins to a bilingual angel and built a farm and then he buried himself beneath an improvised cross and went into a coma until his sins were forgiven, or something, except his sins weren’t forgiven in time to save his own child’s life.
And then Juanaflippa was dead. Dead at Mariana’s hand.
His bitch wife killed their daughter.
(Everything went faster, after that.)
Slime wanted to kill him.
Slime wanted to kill him for killing their fucking daughter, but of course, Mariana couldn’t even be bothered to be around to take care of her alive, never mind to pay for his crimes when she died by his hand!
(in a better world, his rage started and ended there. in a better world, the anger fizzled out with the lack of a target.
this was not that world)
There couldn’t be an Egg Event with no eggs.
If he killed them all, it would bring her back.
(in a worse world, he succeeded. in a worse world, the Egg Event ended there.
this was not that world)
They held a trial.
If he won, it would bring her back.
(in another world, he didn’t convince them. in another world, they left his daughter in Hell.
this was not that world)
Tilín was still before she hit the ground.
Tilín didn’t scream. Maybe they didn’t have time. It happened so fast. He was sure it happened fast. Almost too fast. But everything went so fast, now, even though Flippa was back. Yet, time slowed down for this, like a rubberneck driving past a highway accident, watching him desperately trying to shock their heart back into motion.
“YOU KILL MY BEST FRIENDS,” Flippa wrote. He begged her to understand. She wrote, “i can’t believe it.”
She wrote, “I HATE YOU.”
(in a better world, the error would have been caught in April instead of July.
this was not that world)
His daughter fell to his bitch wife’s sword. The same way. The next day.
They’d only just gotten her back. And Mariana killed her again.
He only left eggxile for the funeral. She wouldn’t stay dead, but he had to be there.
Time went even faster after that. He was Gegg, or maybe Gegg was him, or maybe Gegg was Gegg, or maybe. . . ?
He went back to eggxile.
He wasn’t leaving without them. Tilín. Juanaflippa. He would do whatever was necessary. He would pray to any higher power. Lil J still owed him a goddamn favor, but the guy wouldn’t pick up his calls. Maybe if he put more shit in the shrine; angels liked shiny shit, didn’t they? He went back to the mine, where the gasses swirled in his head. He built the shrine. He mined. He built the shrine.
He went back to the mine.
He went back to the mine.
He went back to the mine.
“This is where I sit, this is where my bitch wife sits, and this is where my daughter sits, if I had one!”
He’d said that before. No he hadn’t. Yes he had.
No, he just needed to clear his head.
Charlie Slimecicle went back to the mine.
Charlie Slimecicle stepped off the train.
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Directors cut for Soundwave Says: Fuck Off?
Soundwave Says: Fuck Off can be read here :D
There are two pieces of important context for this fic and neither of them have anything to do with it. The first is that I got really used to the level of feedback and attention I got for my (extremely often, usually at least one update to one fic a day) posting schedule over this summer and I was really happy with it! I've always been enormously attention-hungry and I was finally getting a level of sustained attention that I liked.
And then I went to college. And now I can't do that any more, because I'm using my brain for, like, school and shit. Now I'm back to the bad old days of refreshing my email every ten minutes and having nothing new in there for an entire day! Horrible. So I'm like desperate to finish and post things and it's just not getting done because I need my time and my focus for school and fic has to come second.
The other thing is that, in the tradition of several other people who I admire, I decided to make a fic-idea generating twitter bot with Cheap Bots Done Quick. My bot is pretty janky for a few reasons, not least of which because I can't get it to save variables, but it works.
Soundwave Says: Fuck Off was literally just me sitting down at approximately 1am, going "if i don't get a comment on a fic tonight i will literally drop dead and also die, but i have no ideas for anything i can wrap up and post in a short period of time. let me go play with my bot... okay that's a funny prompt, i'll do it" (because the bot gave me "the Decepticons and Soundwave had a falling out and now Hook is trying to get them back together. the fic" and that was just a very funny idea)
The actual fic itself literally shaped up while i was writing it. I didn't know Soundwave was going on temporary negotiation-vacation until about a third of the way through. There was very little by way of planning or thought process outside "it needs to be funny and it needs to be posted TONIGHT" lmfao, but I did figure that it wouldn't actually make sense for Soundwave to have fucked off from the Decepticons for real. He's just not really that kind of character. He wouldn't do that. So then there needed to be a different reason... the first and most low-hanging of which was "Soundwave got annoyed and took a vacation".
Soundwave forcing Hook to vacation with him was like the next immediate plan once I figured that out, though. I already set him up as the other overworked perfectionist among the Decepticons; I kind of had to follow through on that parallel after I'd done it.
Sorry I haven't got better or more in-depth commentary, but this fic had like. 0.5 thoughts go into it, haha, if I were going to give you analysis it'd be me digging through what's already there trying to come up with something deeper than what I actually put in lmao. You know how it goes. Sometimes you just gotta write fic for the sake of getting everyone to call you funny rather than to say anything about the characters.
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