#lost the whole thing in a computer crash
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nooo i wrote a whole RESPONSE to this but then tumblr app crashed and then I had to type the whole thing out AGAIN on my computer and then in that time period the op turned reblogs off. Since they turned reblogs off, I decided to cover up their name, in order to kinda respect that.
my response:
No. It is important to create new words in order to discuss specific phenomena. That’s why words like homophobia, lesbophobia, transphobia, misogyny, transmisogyny, exorsexism, and transandrophobia were invented.
Sure, lesbophobia is covered under “homophobia”, but lesbophobia is an important word for describing how misogyny and homophobia affect women’s experiences of homophobia. Transmisogyny is covered under “transphobia”, but it’s useful to have a term that specifically describes how trans fems experience the intersection of transphobia and misogyny, not just for being trans, but for being specifically trans feminine, and the ways that expectations of womanhood, femininity, manhood, and masculinity factor into their oppression because of their assigned sex at birth, their presentation, and their gender. Exorsexism is covered under “transphobia”, but it’s useful to have a term to describe how transphobia affects specifically people outside of the gender binary. Misogynoir is covered under misogyny, but the term was created to specifically describe how Black women experience the intersections of racism and misogyny. Of course my explanations here are a little reductive, each one of these examples has much more to it than what I listed.
In a similar vein, transandrophobia is useful for understanding how transphobia, homophobia, misogyny, and the meta-epistemologies of those discourses affect trans mascs, not just for being trans, but for being trans masc. Oppression, both systemic and on individual levels of discrimination and prejudice, works differently for people depending on the intersections of their identity (assigned sex at birth, assigned gender at birth, presentation, gender identity, race, culture, ability, etc).
So transandrophobia is useful for discussing specifics like:
The idea of “lost lesbians” and “the trans cult tricking little girls into mutilating their bodies”
The rhetoric of violence around testosterone-based HRT. There is the incorrect idea that people who take T become more violent because they are becoming more masculine.
This association of masculinity with violence, and how that affects trans mascs. For trans people regardless of gender, proximity to masculinity puts people in danger in queer spaces. People are treated worse if they are trans masc, trans fem and don’t pass well enough to the surrounding people, or nonbinary and not sufficiently ‘safely’ androgynous (skinny, hairless, and white, with no prominent secondary sex characteristics).
How trans mascs are treated differently when they come out, or when they start to transition. Many people find that people are colder to them, they experience higher rates of abuse, and if they are trans men they are told to not talk about their experiences because ‘they are men and can’t possibly understand misogyny’. The voices of people who aren’t trans masc often end up being listened to more about trans masc experiences, than the people who have actually lived through those experiences. Like, people are shitty to trans people that are masculine specifically because they are masculine.
Corrective rape
Many people, even in feminist and trans spaces, believe that a man’s gender cannot factor into his experiences of oppression. Eg believe that the fact that they are men is irrelevant to trans men’s experiences, believe that a Black man’s masculinity has nothing to do with how he experiences racial oppression, etc. There are even some vocal people who believe that men cannot be oppressed, and that trans men cannot be oppressed, specifically because being men means they CAN’T experience oppression.
The idea that trans men transition in order to try to escape misogyny
Discrimination in reproductive healthcare
A lot more, it would take ages to list the different kinds of transandrophobia
I also noticed you said “continue to feel its effects if they don’t pass”. But that idea is part of the issue: trans mascs continue to experience oppression for being trans masc when they DO pass. Even if someone is well passing, and stealth, they still directly experience discrimination for being trans masc through things like access barriers to reproductive healthcare, higher rates of abuse, sexual assault, etc.
So transandrophobia (trans andro + phobia, not trans +androphobia as some people against the concept seem to believe) is, like other specific terminologies of oppression, really useful as shorthand for the specific forms of oppression people face not just for being trans, but for being trans masc.
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Not the Soft (Ame Writes)
Guys I swear this isn't the soft I promised-- I wrote. A Ghost. As part of the @tmntaucompetition and as a way to cope with @somerandomdudelmao's absolutely devastating last update to their apocalypse series. Cause it sat in my head a little too long.
It is sad. Sorry. <3
Once more, Ghost was somewhere he didn’t want to be. Another portal to fall through, another swarm of alternate versions. It was different this time. More of them were kids, they weren’t all from the boys’ realities. He’d even seen a few from his own. He avoided them now, like the plague. He couldn’t stand to be near them, couldn’t stand to see them happy like that. It hurt too much.
He saw a few he recognized from the last interdimensional competition. The grown up Mikey who handed Leo a bat was familiar. The kids with the actual ghost were familiar. The older Leo and little Leo both missing arms and passing out water bottles were familiar. The computer Donnie was familiar, but he didn’t want to think about what had led to that, just as he didn’t want to think of it last time.
It wasn’t a shock when he spotted the next familiar group. He recognized them the easiest from their robot Raph, but he almost didn’t. Their demeanor was so different from when he’d last seen them, cheering Tello on.
Just one look over them and he knew.
Grief was so easy for him to see now. As much as they were trying to hide it, to brush it off to people who asked, he could see it in their eyes, in their shoulders. They were so different.
The first thing he felt was an unbelievable loss.
It felt like just last month he’d held Tello’s hand and smiled at the crowd. Hugged him once they’d escaped prying eyes. Told him to be better than Ghost had been.
His grown son from another dimension, one who didn’t even know him, was dead.
It hit him like a knife, a wet thud into his heart. Some part of him screamed in his head, drowning out all the other noise, all the other turtles but the three that had been left behind. He felt the desperate urge to find his own Donnie, to check that he was breathing to hear his heartbeat, to listen to his voice, feel his hands in his own.
Ghost swallowed it. Swallowed the grief that was seeing his child dead, even in another world, in another dimension, another time. Swallowed the scream. Swallowed the urge to ground himself with Donnie. He didn’t want to scare him.
He didn’t want to scare any of them, yet there he was, just watching the three turtles and their human companions.
He couldn’t bring himself to approach them. It felt unfair. It felt like he was seeing something he wasn’t supposed to be seeing; a version of his family after they’d lost their Donatello. He felt like he didn’t deserve this, like this was some window into what had happened after he’d disappeared. Like he was intruding.
They had lost their Donatello, and he was a Donatello who was lost.
Promise me you won’t let anything happen to them.
I guess that’s just what we do.
He’d been so caught up in telling Tello to take care of his family he’d forgotten the most important part of the whole thing.
Take care of yourself.
Guilt crashed through him. Guilt on his own behalf, guilt on Tello’s. He wasn’t responsible for every Donatello in every version of themselves, but sometimes it felt like he was the cause of it all. Like he was the first, the one who had doomed every Donatello to a fate of being lost, to a fate of failing to protect their family.
He added another soul to grieve on his shoulders. Another photograph he couldn’t have. Another life he couldn’t speak of.
He meant to walk away, but Leonardo spotted him across the arena. Recognition made him perk up for a moment, and then his expression fell as he saw the knowing look in Ghost’s eyes.
Ghost took a breath. They met in the middle.
It was like fitting a piece into a puzzle where the picture didn’t match.
He didn’t know what else to do but murmur a soft, “I’m so sorry.”
He was apologizing for so much more than just the loss of Tello. He was apologizing to them and his own brothers. To every version of them that Donatello had failed.
Then Mikey gave him a worried look, and it felt all so unfair again. Some part of himself that made him ill wanted to know how Tello died, what they’d done to prevent it, what hadn’t worked. He wanted to know how they were holding up, what they were doing without Tello, how they were functioning, if they were functioning at all.
He squashed the selfish part of himself, the part that wanted to know if his family could have felt the same ways. These were a version of his kids, and here he was with the urge to interrogate them about their brother’s death.
Ghost swallowed it. Mikey still gave him a sad smile.
“He was with us,” Mikey said softly. “In our arms. He went peacefully, in his sleep.”
Ghost’s expression twisted from the flat gaze he’d managed to hold. God, that was his son saying that. That was his son that had died. Not them exactly, but enough like them that it felt like he was being told his children had died in a war that he wasn’t allowed to be a part of.
He couldn’t even cry for them. It felt unfair to be so upset, to be so ruined over a Donatello that wasn’t even his.
He swallowed it.
“He loved you all so much,” Ghost whispered. Even that felt unfair to say, but he knew, and he needed them to know. He needed them to know.
“We know,” Leo replied. He touched the hilt of the sword at his waist, running a shock of purple fabric through his fingers.
Ghost took a breath. It felt like he had to force himself to breathe, like he had forgotten how. Instinctively, he signed, circling his fist over his chest in an apology, thinking they were the same as his kids, that they could read sign language somehow.
He pressed his hand over his chest and got control of his breathing again. Found his voice. “That’s good.”
He hoped the depth of it all didn’t show on his face. He was trying to keep his expression as flat as possible, but it felt like he’d lost someone important. He wasn’t great at dealing with that.
Obviously. He’d been grieving for 24 years.
“I’ll see you guys around,” Ghost whispered, bowing his head slightly. A small, polite gesture he picked up from his own father.
He turned and walked away.
He couldn’t bring them anything but more grief.
There was no solace in his words he could offer, no pain he could lessen with his presence.
He was the wrong missing piece.
He couldn’t fill their void just like they couldn’t fill his.
His son was dead.
His brothers were gone.
The world was ending but continuing on.
He swallowed it and pulled his hood up.
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Emergency Replacement Laptop
Hey all!
I need to replace my current computer as it appears (after years of problems and research that took it well out of warranty of course =_=) that my CPU was from a bad batch that causes it to crash or restart randomly, which has lost me work on comic pages. and it's only a matter of time until it happens during a windows update and makes things unbootable.
So if you're able to chip in what you can, I'm not expecting to pay the whole thing off (especially b/c this isn't the first big electronic to fail me this year), but given the rough year, any little bit helps ^_^
#boost#this just has been the year of failing electronics#it's caused me so much anxiety and stress#so I'm hoping the replacement will at least not crash in the middle of a comic page arrrrgggg
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Did I miss it?
Pairing: Zoro x reader
Word count: 1600
TW: drinking, reader is tipsy for sure.
A/N: Happy Birthday, Lissie!! Okay, lets try this again. My computer crashed half way through what I was writing and I lost… everything. I know I asked you a tough question the other day, and you answered lol much to your own pain – so here you go. I truly hope you enjoy. Thank you so much for being my friend and enabling me in my deranged thoughts in our messages. You're such a kind soul, and such a good mum.
I hope you’re spending your free time re-watching the video from Taz and resting. Perhaps thirsting. @stray-kaz
A/N continued: this is the first time i am writing for Zoro, I am pretty sure he is ooc here. i claim being out of practice.
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Despite how the shouts and cheers of your crew mates seem to linger around you, their laughter resting in the gusts of wind, the night is quiet. Their words are whisked away without thought or care into the night, seeming to echo back from the depths of the bay as nothing more than whispers. Obsidian waves lap at the hull of the ship, rocking the ship slowly to the tune of what your mother called the whiskey lullaby.
Taking a deep breath, you melt into the side of the ship, sinking to your knees to rest against the railing, still cradling your own glass to your chest. Moonlight washes over the deck, casting the whole of everything you can see with a blue-ish hue. The sight never ceases to amaze you, a gentle smile resting on your lips as you take in your crew, littered about the open space in various rather uncomfortable positions that make you laugh.
If you were a little less drunk, you would move to try and help them shift into at least more comfortable positions. But as things stand currently, you find you are unable to stand properly when the ship and your vision continue to move. Slowly, you shift to face out towards the water, slotting your legs through the railings to allow them to dangle, resting your head against the wood with a sigh.
Celebrations aren’t uncommon for the straw hats, and you have come to even enjoy their rambunctious energy since you joined the ragtag group of pirates. You are certainly still learning to accept their willingness to celebrate you, they certainly have made you feel as part of their family, safe and accepted,but something is missing.
A certain head of moss colored hair.
Not two weeks prior, Luffy had sent his first mate off on a special retrieval mission. Zoro had been nervous to leave, knowing he wouldn’t be able to be there for his crew, but also the certainty that he wouldn’t be able to be there for you.
Normally, he would have already crowded you away in the crows nest or back in the kitchen hiding behind the island, finishing off the last of the liquor with you, his attention solely on you. Those dark eyes locked on your form beside him as he listened to you drunkenly ramble about whatever seemed to have caught your fancy that night. The thought of not getting to celebrate with him weighing heavier on your heart than you expected it to.
You have long since stopped trying to deny your feelings for the swordsman, and though unspoken, you know he feels the same – though neither of you have tried to push it further.
Sitting in silence, you let the rush of the waters below over take your senses, the distant push and pull dancing beneath your feet coupled with the distant cry of a sea bird lifting from the oceans surface. So engrossed in your thoughts and the siren call of the sea, you don’t hear the steps rushing up the plank of wood connecting the ship to the harbor, nor the gentle bumps of the body stumbling up onto the deck as they make their way to you. You don’t hear any of it, until his voice startles you from your reverie, the depths of your thoughts lingering on him more than you would ever admit to anyone else.
“Did I miss it?” his voice is slow, measured as you yank yourself around with a gasp, nearly throwing your glass at him in surprise. At this, he chuckles, slowly moving to kneel before you, careful of his swords and your hold on the cup as he tugs it from your hand.
“Zo…” he nods slowly, gaze softening in a way that you've learned is meant only for you. “You startled me.” you confess, the drunken tilt to your words making him frown slightly. You're out here, drunk, and the only one awake.
“I noticed,” he states calmly as he slides closer, sitting beside you, relaxing at the near awestruck look painting your face, eyes wide and glassy with emotions you've yet to speak on, lips parted. “I’m sorry I’m late.” he starts again. “Did I miss it?”
“I thought you weren’t meant to be back until next week,” you stumble out, reaching for him, completely ignoring his question. Or not hearing it. Chuckling, again, he lets you tug him closer, one hand resting on his arm, the other taking the opposite hand.
“I took larger steps,” he half jokes, running his thumb over your knuckles with a gentleness no one else would believe he is capable of, your laughter earning one of his rare smiles. “Now, please answer me this time, pretty girl.” he asks slowly, catching your attention as he rests his free hand on your cheek. Nodding slowly, your eyes lock with his, immediately lost in the depths of the blackened seas washing in his gaze.
“Did I miss it?” he asks again, gently emphasizing each word. At this, you frown slightly, looking up to the moon, as if trying to discern the time. Between your addled brain, and your excitement at seeing him again so soon, you shrug with a crooked grin that leaves him dizzy.
“I don’t know,” you state honestly. “we can say no,” you offer, eyes softening as you match his gaze again, able to see that this means something to him. Sighing in relief, his shoulders sag a bit before he moves away from you, earning a soft whine. His shoulders shake at the sound, eyeing you amused.
“patience, princess,” he chides, pulling a box from the bag at his side, setting it in your lap. Its not big, it can fit in the palm of your hand, but it is expertly wrapped, a beautiful bow resting on top. Frowning, you lift it to your face, shaking it.
“What is it?” you hum, tilting your head at it. He huffs a bit, amused. He has never dealt with you when drunk, at least, not without the both of you being drunk together.
“Open it and find out,” his normal measured voice laced with an amusement he would deny later. Beaming up at him, you nod, tugging the bow lightly, watching it fall away with ease before tugging at the corner of the beautiful silver paper that gleams in the moonlight. Inside is a small box. There is nothing too special about it, a simple smooth brown box. Humming in curiosity, you tug it open, peeking in as if something would jump out before the top fumbles off completely. Inside is a thin silver chain.
Frowning, you tug it up, watching in awe as the charm swings to the end.
At first, all you're able to discern is that the charm is a silver circle. Clumsily, you grab at it, wanting to look closer, oblivious to zoro’s anxious shifting beside you. On one side, there is a compass etched into it, careful practiced lines marking each direction with a small brilliant emerald resting in the center. You stare at it for a moment before realizing you can feel the same raised edges on the other side.
Flipping it slowly, your eyebrows furrow as you try to read it, scrawled in perfect cursive.
Lets get lost together
head whipping to him, your eyes are wide, gaping at him. He shifts slightly, moving away from the railing now, eyes flitting between you and the necklace.
“Do.. do you like it?” his voice is quiet, all of his insecurities and internal doubts swarming him as you sit there, staring. After a minute of tense silence, he shakes his head, jaw tense as he moves to stand. “I knew it was a bad idea” he sighs, moving to take the offending item from your grasp, but you refuse to let go.
“you mean it?” your voice almost whisked away by the wind its so soft. This is as close to a confession as hes ever gotten other than a drunken “I like your face” or one of his pet names you’ve come to adore. He pauses again, uncertainty resting clear in his eyes as he nods slowly.
“Yeah,” his voice is quiet, watching as your demeanor switches from quiet and contemplative to bright and excited – the brilliance he finds himself melting for. Quickly, you turn, scootching the best you can, drunk and sitting, to turn your back to him while holding the necklace up impatiently.
“Put it on me,” you nearly demand before pausing, looking at him pleadingly over your shoulder. “Please.” shaking his head at your antics, he takes it from your hand gently, slowly shifting to his knees to raise it over your head and around your neck from behind. Once its clasped, he tugs it loose, allowing it to rest over your shirt, his touch lingering on your neck as he leans down slowly to whisper in your ear, the sensation making you shiver.
“Happy birthday, Princess.”
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happy birthday, my friend. It was super quick, but I really hope you enjoy it or at least get a chuckle out of it. I hope your day is the best.
#roronoa zoro#one piece zoro#zoro x reader#zoro#one piece#one piece live action#opla#one piece netflix#opla!zoro x reader#opla!zoro
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got into a convo in a server abt how one negative comment on an artist's work (especially a young/beginner one) can completely change the trajectory of their artistic journey which may even mean ending it, and i remembered something that happened to me as a young artist
back in my deviantart days (like around 2009/2010 i believe this happened), i had a set of ocs that were edgy sheep and they were part of a story called "dark brotherhood". i was really excited about them and wanted to make them into a comic series, so i whipped out ms paint and made some pages and shared them on my page
unfortunately someone didnt like my comic to the point of where they openly called it stupid and silly because they were sheep and the art wasnt amazing. and that really discouraged me a lot. so i ended up taking down the pages and completely abandoning the project. on top of that, i changed the characters from sheep to wolves bc i thought wolves were more appealing to people and theyd think they were cooler than sheep.
since then ive lost those old pages due to a computer crash (i lost a whole lot of stuff i wish i could get back but thats impossible at this point..) and ive reverted the characters back to sheep to honor my young self's vision, but i'll never forget what one comment did to my creative vision and self esteem, and it makes me so very conscious of how i treat other artists' work, and it makes me feel for young/beginner artists or artists who arent that far along in their journey compared to others, who all get negative feedback on their work to the point of changing how they do things for the sake of being liked
anyway. be nice to young/beginner artists, or even just artists whose styles u dont personally find appealing. if you say something negative without them asking for it at the very least, you could be the reason an artist stops following their passion.
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What to Expect | Chapter 10
previous part | masterlist | next part
synopsis: Jake thinks about his future in the Navy as your due date draws closer. What was supposed to be a joyous last day of school, ends up with a call you never wanted to get.
word count: 2.8k
warnings: pregnancy, cursing, topgun shit, missions, end of the school year sadness, Jake's PTSD,
Jake had missed being in the middle of the ocean and being on the carrier. He sat on one of the decks, looking out at the waves crashing against the carrier, and feeling the salty breeze against his skin. He wondered if his little girl would like the ocean and the beach as much as he did. Jake smiled to himself as he looked down at his boots. He never realized how much he could miss home. Of course he always missed you while he was gone on deployments or detachments, but he filled the time with flying and hanging with his friends. But now, the only thing he wanted to do was curl up with you and nuzzle his face into your bump.
“There you are,” Payback said, snapping Jake out of his thoughts, “Been searching the whole damn place for you. Mav wants to go over flight stuff.”
“Yeah, sorry, lost track of time,” Jake said, pushing himself up from the ground. Payback held his hand out and helped pull him up, “Thanks, man.”
“No problem. How’s the lady?”
“Good, tired of being pregnant.”
Payback chuckled, “Man, I remember those days. When Nina was pregnant with Jay, I thought she was going to kill me by the eighth month.”
“How do you do it?” Jake asked, “Being away from them. I mean, my daughter isn’t even born yet and I’m half tempted to take a jet and fly home. Does it get easier?”
“No,” Payback said honestly, “It doesn’t. And when you see your little girl for the first time, you’ll be all too prepared to retire as soon as possible. But, the longing makes you love coming home even more.”
“Aren’t you sad about what you miss?”
“Of course, that’s part of being a parent. But it makes the moments when you are there even more special.”
“Thank you,” Jake said and Payback clapped him on the back.
“No problem. I gotta welcome you to the Dagger Squad Dad’s club. I’ve been the only one for too long,” Payback joked and Jake chuckled.
“I’m guessing my welcome gift is a pair of new balances and a barbecue set.”
“Oh for sure.”
Maverick was less than impressed when Jake and Rueben walked into the briefing room late. He got right to work on explaining what their next task at hand was. The whole point of the detachment was for security and training opportunities. The last time they really had a chance to be on a carrier like this was during the Uranium Mission. This time, there was no immediate threat or enemy that they had to be weary of. It made Jake somewhat less worried and nervous about being away from you.
“Hangman, Rooster, Fanboy and Payback,” Maverick called out the pilots’ callsigns, “I want you all on deck ready to go for flight plan B. Two singles and a team flier.”
Jake looked over at Rooster who clenched his jaw. The two of them had hardly spoken unless it had something to do with the mission. Everyone could feel the tension between them, it was a bit awkward and heated. Jake had tried to make amends with Rooster for the sake of the mission, and for your sake too, but Rooster had no intention of making nice with Jake.
The pilots agreed and were dismissed from the briefing room. Jake went right to the computer lab, going to check his email for what was probably the tenth time today. It was the only form of communication he had with you back home. You had promised to send him pictures and updates as much as you could. Though, things weren’t really changing as you entered the 32nd week of your pregnancy. Jake’s green eyes watched the loading bar cautiously waiting for the screen to pop up. A smile came across his face as he saw a brand new email notification from you. Attached as a picture of the newest ultrasound and your growing belly.
— — —
“Are your boobs leaking?” Your sister Stephanie asked. You looked down at your light blue shirt and groaned, “Is that normal?”
“Apparently,” You grabbed a paper towel and dabbed at your breast. It had only been a week since the Daggers left for detachment. Your sisters Stephanie and Gia decided to come back and visit while your dad was away on this detachment. Even though your mother had been well versed in the life of being married to a pilot, it was still hard to be alone. Gia hadn’t seen you since you moved back to San Diego, and you had been dreading the moment.
Gia wasn’t always the nicest sister, being the middle sister out of the three girls (her and Dylan were the official middle children). Gia always strived to be the star of the family, wanting to be the one that carried on the Kazansky namesake in the army. She wanted people to think of her when they thought of ‘Kazansky’ not Stephanie or Dylan or even you (before you said you weren’t going to join). To her, you were the angel of the family, the sibling who could never do wrong. You got what you wanted, you had Ice’s attention constantly, you were the true star of the family. And Gia hated it. She always had a way of making you feel less than everyone else. Even now, as fully grown adults.
“Have you talked to Jake?” Stephanie asked.
“No, I haven’t,” You sighed, pulling your jacket over your body the best you could. You thought weeks ago you couldn’t get any bigger, but you were quickly proven wrong.
“He’s probably busy,” Stephanie shrugged, giving you a warm smile.
“Or banging a shipman,” Gia said as she walked into the kitchen. You sucked in a breath and Stephanie glared at her, “Is that why you two broke up?”
“Gia, really?” Stephanie scolded, “Enough of that shit.”
“What? Just pointing out the fact that he’s a cheater and you’re having a child out of wedlock,” Gia grabbed a grape off the kitchen counter, “How is the rugrat?”
“Busy,” You mumbled as Baby girl moved around inside you, “Still breech, but they said that’s normal.”
“Hope you don’t have to have a c-section. The scar will ruin your perfect skin complexion.”
“Can you say anything nice today? Or do you have to be such a bitch all the time, Gia?” Stephanie crossed her arms over her chest and glared at her sibling, “Seriously? What’s the deal?”
“Nothing,” Gia shrugged, “Just nice to see the perfect princess’s plans finally getting put off track.” Gia winked at you before walking out of the kitchen like nothing had happened.
You tried hard not to cry, but you couldn’t help letting a few tears slip down your cheeks. Everyone knew damn well that a baby before marriage was not in your plans. You had always talked about your fairytale wedding since you were a child. A dress like Princess Di’s, a big cathedral decorated with beautiful flowers, a beautiful ring placed on your finger. After marriage you wanted to spend at least two years doing just married couple things like traveling the world and settling in a new house, getting a couple of animals before kids.
You almost had that with Jake. You had the house, the animals, the plans in the works of getting married, but it all halted when Jake came home from the Uranium Mission and told you the lie of his infidelity. You had suddenly found yourself having to rebuild a dream that had been destroyed. You wondered if that was even going to be possible, you didn’t think that you could ever find a man like Jake. And then, you got a second chance at the dream life you wanted to have, just in a different order.
“Hey, don’t listen to her,” Stephanie said, frowning at the tears on your cheeks, “She’s bitter cause Steven is being sneaky again, even though she kind of deserves it.”
“She doesn’t deserve that shit,” You sighed, “I know how it feels and it’s horrible. Even though she’s a bitch, she doesn’t deserve to be cheated on.”
“And this is why you’re everyone's favorite,” Stephanie said and booped your nose. You rolled your eyes and stood up from your chair.
“Oh, um. . . the teachers at school want to throw me a small little baby shower. It’s just like cake and ice cream, kinda more of an end of the school year thing,” You said, “Jake won’t be there so-”
“Of course I will be there!” Stephanie yelled and threw her arms around you in a hug. Stephanie was always the hugger of the family, something she clearly got from your mother. You tried to not tell her about certain events or awards you got because she would always pull you in for a bone crushing hug. You were suddenly very thankful that your belly was in the way of her crushing you.
“Oh my god, I should bake cookies!”
“Yeah, you do that,” You said and walked out of the kitchen before you could get sucked into baking way too many chocolate chip cookies.
— — —
The end of the school year always made you a bit sad. Spending nine months getting to know students, watching them grow and learn over the year. You loved summer and the time off, but you missed seeing the smiling faces of your students every day. Usually, what kept you going through the summer and the end of the school year was the fact that you would still see your old students when August would roll back around. Except, this year was different. You wouldn’t be coming back to school in August. You weren’t quite sure if you were going to come back at all.
The idea to be a stay-at-home used to never be something that you liked. You didn’t understand how your mom could stand being home all day with four kids. You had even asked her if she would do something differently if she had the chance, and she told you that she was happy with the way her life was. Jake had never pushed the idea of that on you, either. He viewed raising children as an equal thing between mother and father. In fact, he even thought about staying home and raising kids just so you could still go teach and do what you loved. But you both knew, with his job, it would be nearly impossible.
So you contemplated just staying home for the whole year. Knowing that Jake could possibly be deployed at a drop of a hat, you wanted to be prepared for that to happen. You knew that it would be nearly impossible for you to come back to work after spending five months home with your little one. Jake knew that he was probably going to cry on his first day going back to work after his paternity leave was up.
“Miss K?” You looked up from your desk to see Owen standing in front of it, “We have a card for you.”
“You do?” You asked. You had put on a movie for the kids to watch in the last part of the day before early dismissal. What you didn’t realize while you were trying not to cry about having to take down the decorations in your room was that your kids had made a card and were passing it around the room for each of them to sign. Owen nodded and you paused the movie, standing up and walking to the front of your classroom.
“Miss Ortega helped us write it,” Joy, one of your second graders said. You made a mental note to give Alyssa a hug later.
“You told us we might not see you next year, and it made some of us sad,” Owen said, “And then we saw you get sad about it so we decided to make you a going away card for you and the baby.”
You took the card from his outstretched hands, “To our favorite second grade teacher,” You blinked back tears as you opened the card, “This year you have taught us a lot; how to read chapter books, the regions of the United States, standard multiplication, and how to build the perfect paper airplane,” You chuckled and wiped a tear away, “We will miss you next year, and wish we could have you in third grade. We wish you and Baby K the best. Love, your second graders. And every single one of you signed it.”
You took a deep breath and held the card to your chest, “You guys are awesome. I hope that one day this little one will be as awesome as you.”
“Can we give you a hug!?” Amelia shouted.
“Of course. Very gently, group hug,” You said and 30 some second graders came speed walking up to hug you. You laughed and hugged them all tightly. It really did break your heart to have to say goodbye to this class, probably more than years passed.
When the school bell rang, you stood by your door, giving each kiddo a hug and a small goody bag on their way out the door for the summer.
“Miss K,” Owen said. He was the last one in the line, “Can you give something to Mister Jake for me?”
“For sure,” You said and Owen handed you a piece of yellow paper that had been cut like the wings Jake had given him earlier in the year. You smiled, and Owen wrapped his arms tightly around your waist.
“I’m going to miss you,” Owen said.
“I am going to miss you too,” You said, and then kneeled down to Owen’s height, “Don’t let anyone tell you that you aren’t special, okay? You are a very special kid, Owen.”
“Thank you, Miss K,” Owen said and you nodded, “Bye Miss K and Baby K.”
“Goodbye Owen, have a happy summer.”
You stood up as Owen ran down the hallway towards the front doors of the school. You sighed, and turned around, looking at your now empty classroom. All the kids had put their chairs on their desks and taken their name tags off. You had given them anything in the class that had their name on it, which left it looking pretty bare. Your lip quivered and you bit back a sob. Shaking your head, you shut the door, you weren’t able to look at the room anymore without crying. Jake had already agreed to help you clean everything out when he got back.
“Hey,” Alyssa said, stepping out of her room down the hall, “You okay?”
“No,” You sniffled, “I’m seven months pregnant, my baby daddy is in the middle of the pacific ocean, and your card made me fucking sob.”
Alyssa giggled and put her arm around your shoulders, “I’m going to miss coming to bother you during lunch.”
“Oh don’t you start,” You pushed her arm off of your playfully, “Let’s go. I want cookies. Stephanie has been perfecting her recipe since last week.”
The staff break room was decorated with balloons and streamers, not only for you but to celebrate the end of the year. Your colleagues were all sad to see you go. Even though you had only been there a year, you had quickly become one of everyone's favorite teachers. Your kindness was infectious, and even teachers from other grades were coming by your room for a quick chat. You were thankful for having such a good team by your side.
A couple of the other teacher moms gave you some gifts. You got a couple of books, onesies and diapers. It made you sort of realize that you hadn’t started really buying anything for the baby, and time was running out. Alyssa could see the look of panic on your face, and made sure to add things to the registry she and Phoenix had started for you. Stephanie was getting along greatly with some of the teachers, which surprised no one. She was always the social butterfly, and get along with anyone and everyone.
“Are you ready for the baby to be here?” One of the fourth grade teachers, Mrs. Donohughe asked.
“Can you ever be ready for a baby?” You asked and she chuckled, “I feel somewhat ready. I’ve had things like the crib and dresser and rocker delivered. But besides that. . . I think this is my first package of diapers I’ve gotten.”
“You have time to get all that. Might not seem like it, but you will,” She assured you.
You sucked in a breath as your phone went off. You smiled seeing Jake’s name and contact photo flash across your phone. You excused yourself from the group, and waddled out into the hallway. You swiped to answer it, and let out a sigh.
“Hey, I’ve been waiting to-”
“Sweetheart,” Your eyebrows furrowed at the sound of your dad’s voice. You pulled your phone away and double checked that it was in fact Jake’s phone number.
“Dad? What-Why do you have Jake’s phone?”
“Sweetheart,” Ice sighed, “There’s been an accident.”
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AITA for giving up everything, including my sanity and moral compass, in a desperate bid to save my daughter?
…I loved her more than anything.
Sorry. I know you probably don’t want to hear about it, but I want to make that much very clear. I have to, for my own sake. I want everyone to know, and so I will reiterate:
My daughter was my world. I can hardly put into words how much I cared about her, at least once upon a time.
She was a happy accident— she hadn’t been planned. I was young, or at least felt young at the time when her mother showed up on my doorstep. We weren’t in a committed relationship. I was a ‘player’ of sorts. I hadn’t intended to impregnate her, but then there we were.
She held her arms and told me what happened. She asked me what I wanted to do. She said she didn’t really want to keep her, and was thinking of adopting her out, but wanted to know what I thought.
I was stunned. I wasn’t ready. I was keen to get rid of her too. But then my baby girl— my daughter reached out a hand and grabbed my finger. And it was as if my whole world shifted.
I realized she was so small. And so incredibly alone. And MINE. I realized if I didn’t protect her, then no one would. That she was my duty.
I told her mother I’d keep her. I became a single father. It was frightening, but I was sure of it. For my daughter, I’d do anything.
And life was good, for a time. We were happy. But then, everything changed. I ruined it.
You see, I was a businessman and mechanic by trade. I had a moderately successful company producing technology. And one day, I stumbled upon the blueprints for a machine that would change EVERYTHING.
It was a wish granting computer… said to be able to make any dream come true. I was ecstatic. Not only would this surely help my company, but it would help ensure my daughter had a bright future. I decided I’d build it— make her life prosperous, and make all of her wishes reality. We even worked on it together.
It was our project. Our collective dream. We poured our hearts into that machine.
But it went wrong. It had to, didn’t it? There’s no such thing as a true miracle. Partway through building the machine, I…
I lost her.
Something malfunctioned. A portal opened up. Maybe I shouldn’t have allowed her to be near the computer— I don’t know, but either way, it stole her away. My daughter… the light of my life was swallowed by the portal. She screamed for help, and then…
The portal closed. She was gone.
My daughter was dead, and it was my fault.
I was inconsolable. I promised I’d hang the stars in the sky for her, only to to allow her to be murdered at only seven. In one terrible moment, my entire world came crashing down.
I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know where to go. But then it hit me, I realized.
…My wish granting machine— the same machine that had damned me— it was now my only hope.
If I completed it… if I were to make my dreams come true, then surely I could bring my daughter back to life.
Of course, it couldn’t function as was. I tried to make my wish, and it told me it was ‘impossible.’ But I didn’t give up. I just needed more resources. More time.
Did you know every planet has the power of the stars contained somewhere within it? A miraculous energy… that which my wish granting machine ran on. I harvested this power from my own planet, but it wasn’t enough.
I needed more.
I traveled to other planets, taking this power by force, if necessary. I constructed a grand spaceship, and my machine and I conquered.
But the grief in my heart hadn’t eased. I was beginning to feel delirious. I started suffering from severe health complications. I well and truly thought I was going to die. But I couldn’t allow that to happen before I saw my daughter again, and so I made another decision.
…The machine. I’d use its powers to transcend my mortal flesh. I replaced my faulty heart with a cybernetic one. My ailing limbs with machinery, and my weeping eyes with LEDs. That way, I would never die. My daughter wouldn’t recognize me upon her return, but that was okay.
It was all for her.
Slowly, I began to lose it, though. Something terrible was happening to me. I was more standoffish… edgy and angry, and even worse, my memory began to go. I began to forget things that were important to me.
…Even my daughter’s face.
I think, in some way, I was aware of it. I was aware it was that accursed machine. It was eating away at my brain every time I used it. But it didn’t matter. I still had to save her. And so I surrendered myself— gave my mind up, all in a desperate bid to MAYBE find a way to bring her home before I lost myself entirely.
I did not. I forgot my daughter— my precious child— the one who this was all for, and my priorities shifted.
Prosperity. That’s what I realized I wanted. Prosperity. For myself and the people cared about. But people were far too foolish to attain prosperity on their own. If I wanted prosperity to be treated with respect, then I would have to take it for myself. No-one else understood the correct way to live.
We invaded more planets— me and my precious machine. We did so with even more force. We stole their natural resources for ourselves, and as for the people who lived there…?
We improved them. We gave them the same upgrades I’d been given. It was the only way to live an efficient life, and so even if they didn’t want to, we mechanized them. We mechanized entire planets, spreading our agenda of prosperity all across the universe, and becoming incomprehensibly rich in the process.
It was… maybe eleven years into this when I met a peculiar person. She was young— couldn’t have been older than 18. She begged me for a job— said that she NEEDED to work for my company.
She had no credentials, but I felt… drawn to her, anyways. Her diligent demeanor and her strange sad eyes. I offered her a position as my secretary, and she agreed.
She, like everyone else, was mechanized, and she begun work at my company.
We didn’t always get along… me and this person, who I’ll call ‘S.’ I’d shout at her. I wasn’t an easy boss. I was mean-spirited and demanding. But even so, I was still kinder to her than I was to others, I think. She brought me a certain sense of peace.
…On quiet days, she’d sing me songs.
I trusted S, or at least as much as I could trust anyone. And so one day, when it came to us mechanizing a particularly important planet, I put her in charge of the operation. She’d shown she was competent, and I trusted her to do what needed to be done.
…She failed. Spectacularly. At every step of the operation, she messed it up. A rebel from that planet resisted our company’s takeover— destroying our spaceship and eventually making his way to my headquarters. S tried to stop him, but failed time and time again.
He waltzed right into my office.
She tried, one last time, to seize him… to make up for her mistakes and make me proud, but she was unable. He was too strong. He outright humiliated her.
I was… enraged. I’d trusted S with so much, and she’d let me down. I terminated her from her position right then and there— even though she begged me for mercy— even though she said she needed ‘just one more chance.’
I didn’t listen. I never listened to S.
I should have.
(I’m sorry. I’m so, SO sorry.)
I, too, was beaten by the rebel. But I had one last trick up my sleeve. I attempted to connect with the computer— my greatest accomplishment and my last hope. And S…
She stole it. That which I was using to sync with the computer, right as it was attached to my brain.
All at once, two things happened.
First of all, I lost control. I could feel the computer’s presence creeping up on me. I knew soon I’d be dead— TRULY dead as it reformatted me. S had killed me, whether she meant to or not.
But second of all…
For just a brief moment, I remembered. I remembered EVERYTHING.
And as I stared at S, dying… completely unable to move, I came to a horrible realization.
I knew her. Even looking at me with such hateful eyes. Even having changed her beyond recognition
I had met S before, a very, very long time ago. I’d forgotten it, but she was the one I did all of this for.
…She was my daughter. She’d been by my side all this time, and she’d murdered me.
The last thing I was able to process was just how angry she looked. Just how scared and small. She… well and truly despised me.
And really, I can’t blame her.
I’m in a better place now. My spirit was almost destroyed entirely by that which took everything else from me, but even a wish granting computer can’t defeat Death. Eventually, painstakingly, my soul was knit back together.
But I am not at peace. I am anything but. I can’t get her expression out of my mind… just how much she resented me.
Now, I know the full story. My daughter never died. Instead, she spent 11 horrible years trapped in a nightmare dimension. My computer could not bring her back because she was not gone… not truly. She was fighting for her life.
Eventually, she returned to me. She became the person I knew as ‘S.’ But by then, I had already forgotten her, and she was inconsolable. She vowed she’d find a way to save me… to ‘wake me up’ and have me remember.
She tried. She really, really tried. But I was beyond saving. And I guess when I tried to fire her… something snapped. Perhaps she thought maybe— just maybe if she were to get rid of the computer, she could change fate.
…She did not. I am gone now, and her efforts were all for naught.
I know, realistically, I am the bad guy in this story. I committed countless atrocities in the name of seeking salvation. I conquered planets. I mechanized strangers. I even mechanized she who was most dear to me.
But I didn’t mean to… I never meant to—
I just wanted to see her. One last time. I knew the fate it would condemn me to, but I did not care. Was that really so selfish? All we wanted was to rescue one another, and in doing so, we damned ourselves.
…AITA? For trying to save my daughter, and in doing so, perhaps condemning her to the worst fate of all?
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i feel like they would say i love you to each other quite fast after getting together in a cute casual domestic setting <3 <3 <3 like the one you described🥰
oooh interesting, see i couldn't decide whether it would be reasonably quick after they got together or a weirdly long time???
obviously, they're in love, but I'm not sure whether that means it's so important they need to say it NOW or whether it's just so obvious it remains unsaid. I am gonna discuss both scenarios so prepare for a ramble lol
okay lets say they say it fast; another cute domestic setting would be saying it after you look after Annie for the night. maybe he comes out to see his girls crashed on the sofa, one of those animated Barbie movies playing on the screen.
you wake up to matty stroking your head softly and just give him a sleepy grin. you strategically untangle from Annie and stand up to give him a hug.
"Hi baby," you mumble into his shoulder
"Hi sweetheart, how are my girls, hmm?" he says softly, hugging you and rubbing your back.
"Good. sleepy, obviously, but we enjoyed our little girl's night." You say, pulling back and wrapping your arms around mattys neck as his make their way to sit on your waist.
"Ah, did Annie do your nails like she wanted to?" matty asks, now fiddling with the hem of your shirt absentmindedly.
you bring one of your hands out from behind his head and flash your nails, "oh yes and I love them, very glittery" your hand goes back behind his neck but now sits at the base of his curls, gently scratching them in the way you know he loves.
matty throws his head back with a groan and shuts his eyes, "hmm well I love them. love you too." matty says, completely distracted by your warm hands massaging his scalp. you freeze briefly, but matty doesn't seem to notice what he's said, so you play along with a big grin in your face
"That's nice to hear baby. I love you too," you say confidently. You thought hearing it out loud would freak you out. especially considering you've only been together a few weeks, but this all felt so natural. and hearing matty say that just felt right.
he gets a dopey smile on his face, clearly not quite back in the world yet, and pulls you in for another hug. this time squeezing you and holding you especially close.
3 seconds into the hug, you feel him jolt, pull back and look at you with wide eyes.
"WAIT WHAT"
now, if it was a weirdly long time, I could see it happening at the studio.
its pretty fucking late and you've been there for a few hours hanging out with the boys but you can see matty and George getting frustrated by this song so you decide to give them some space.
you walk over and drop a kiss into mattys curls, and you feel his hand slip from his arm rest to your thigh, but his eyes stay laser focused on the computer screen.
"You going somewhere, baby?" he asks, still completely lost in the world of producing.
"Yeah, I'm going to leave you boys to it and go get some rest," you say, fiddling with some of Matty's curls, twiddling them around your finger.
"Okay, see you at home sweetheart," matty says, giving your thigh a squeeze before removing his hand and pressing seemingly random buttons on the keyboard.
"Bye, I love you," you say with a yawn, already walking away.
"Love you too!" matty shouts after you slightly turning his head, but his eyes stay fixed on his screen.
as the door clicks, matty nonchalantly goes back to working but sees George freeze out of the corner of his eye.
"Dude, just because y/n got to leave doesn't mean you do, get back to it," matty says, sighing and rubbing his eyes with his closed fists.
"When did that develop then, huh?" George asks, smirking and leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.
matty paused and span to look at George with a confused face, "do you mean y/n? because if you do, im very confused about why you think she's been hanging around us for so long." he jokes.
"No, no. not y/n. the whole 'I love you' thing. First time I've heard you guys say it." George says, shrugging his shoulders and spinning back to the computer.
"Huh? we haven't said that yet. What do you mean?" matty says, yawning and stretching as best he can in his cramped chair.
george stops and turns to matty with a confused look on his face. "matty. she literally just left and said, 'i love you', and you said 'love you too'... don't tell me that was the first time you said it??" George is laughing at the absurdity of that idea, expecting matty to join in. but still, after a few seconds, matty stays silent.
george opens his eyes and sees matty blinking rapidly with his mouth open, "oh fuck." he says.
another beat passes before both men burst out laughing. A combination of the absurd situation, how long they've been awake, and the zoot they smoked earlier.
later matty comes home and immediately crawls into bed with you, you wake up and flip over cuddling into his chest and humming happily.
"hey babe, are you awake?" matty whispers, the slight anxiety in his voice woke you right up.
"yeah, is everything okay?" you say your voice heavy with sleep, you rest your chin on mattys chest and look up at him.
"You know earlier when you left?" matty pauses until you nod, indicating for him to continue, "well turns out we both said,'I love you' for the first time... and didn't notice. George pointed it out, " he said sheepishly, he raises his arm and placed his hand under his head whilst his other hand traced your bicep.
you blink hard a few times before simply going, "Oh," both you and matty look at each other before gently smiling.
you turn your head and settle back into his chest, "Well, I do love you, so that's good." You say stifling a yawn. matty feels you drifting off, your breathing evening out, and your eyelids fluttering.
"I love you too, now go to sleep darling," he says softly, feeling himself drift off as well. you nod as best you can into his chest before both of you fall asleep, a tangled mess of limbs under the duvet.
blurb masterlist for this au here :)
#feeling emo today i love these two#i literally write it myself im like “oh im rooting for them” like babe... you decide their fate what are you talking about???#anyway sorry for hijacking your ask to ramble anon#hope thats okay lol#anon!#teacher au!#matty healy fanfic
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"Comfort in a Thunderstorm"
Happy Wholesome Sonic and Tails Wednesday!!!! 🥰 So I've actually drawn a ton of things for them but obviously gotta post them one at a time 😂 I had something else planned but then another fic suddenly materialized in my docs so I was like "welp"
Haha, enjoy!
Quick desc: "Sonic & Tails' first thunderstorm experience together."
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Sonic didn’t like the rain.
For one, he wasn’t a big fan of water in general, although he mainly didn’t like being in it. But rain often made it harder to run. He’d lost track of the amount of times he’d slipped in wet grass, or crashed into a mud puddle, or been blinded by a downpour and ran into a tree or something.
He didn’t like it, but he wasn’t afraid of it.
As he was soon to learn, it was a different story for Tails.
It had started sprinkling around the late afternoon, and by sundown it was pouring. The skies were overcast with dark, almost black clouds. They’d need to stop and find shelter somewhere, Sonic decided. It was already hard enough to keep moving during the day in the heavy rain. It would only be worse to try and get through it in the dark.
Tails had seemed unusually quiet. Sure, he didn’t talk a whole lot to begin with, but sometimes his little brother would go on rambles about something new he’d discovered; usually about mechanics and technology. The kid had taken a liking to such things the moment he’d first discovered them, and although he didn’t have any of his own tools and techy stuff yet, he was taking every opportunity to learn as much about it as he could. He’d been fascinated by Sonic’s plane, the Tornado, ever since he’d first laid eyes on it. Sonic had been thinking about buying him a computer or something for his birthday, whenever that was.
Did he actually understand all the stuff Tails told him about? No, not really. But it was fun to listen to him go on and on about his passions.
Tonight, however, his little brother had been silent for a couple hours at least. When Sonic glanced back to check on him, the little fox’s blue eyes were wide and nervous.
He cleared his throat as he stopped for a moment. “You okay, buddy?”
Tails jumped and looked up at him. “Yes!” he answered, a little too quickly. “Where are we gonna sleep tonight?”
Sonic looked up and scanned the horizon. “Dunno yet. I don’t see any trees. We might have to settle for burrowing tonight.”
“We shouldn’t go under a tree, anyway,” Tails protested. “If it starts making thunder, we might get struck by lightning if it hits the tree.”
Sonic looked down at him, surprised. “Oh, okay.” He glanced around. “I just don’t want to get flooded if we go underground is all.”
The little fox stared around for a moment. Something still seemed off about his demeanor, but Sonic couldn’t put his finger on it.
“Well, guess we’ll just keep moving until we find somewhere safe to stay for the night.” He sighed, then held out his hand. “Stay close, kiddo.”
It had taken him a while to get Tails to be comfortable with touch when they’d first met— which, granted, hadn’t been too long ago. A little under a year, perhaps? But Tails had been sensitive to it as a result of the bullying he’d had to endure before Sonic had met him and intervened. So it was safe to say that Sonic was a little taken aback when Tails not only took his hand immediately, he grabbed his entire arm and clung to it with both hands, standing barely a couple inches away from him.
They started walking, although Tails was more shuffling to keep up with Sonic’s longer paces. “You feeling okay, bud?” Sonic finally made himself ask.
His little brother hesitated for several seconds, then mumbled, “I’m just sleepy.”
It had been a long day. “Want me to carry you?”
“…Yeah.”
Sonic stopped walking, turned to crouch down, and held out his arms. Tails quietly climbed into his grasp, and as Sonic stood up again, this time holding his brother against his chest and one shoulder, he realized Tails was shaking. His heart rate seemed a little too fast, too.
But his little brother had already shown he didn’t want to talk about whatever was bothering him, so Sonic just held him close and continued walking, occasionally rubbing one hand over the fox kit’s back.
Maybe five minutes of silence passed before thunder started rumbling in the distance. Sonic kept moving, but he felt Tails stiffen slightly in his arms.
Finally, he spotted a few small caves just beyond the hill they were approaching. “Eureka!” he cheered quietly, and Tails made a tiny noise of acknowledgment. They were just entering the mouth of the biggest cave when a loud crack of thunder exploded just over their heads.
To Sonic’s surprise, Tails yelped at the sound and clung to him ever tighter, whimpering. Sonic just continued to hold him, even as he walked in deeper and sat down against a wall. He was tempted to ask some questions, but figured it was better to just stay quiet and be there for comfort.
Four cracks of thunder and four mini screams from Tails later, his little brother finally said something.
“I-I don’t like thunderstorms.”
“I got that, buddy,” Sonic replied quietly, trying for a teasing tone, but instantly regretted it. Tails probably wasn’t in the mood for jokes and sarcasm.
“That’s okay,” he added, after another few seconds’ hesitation. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. Everyone has fears.”
“Not you,” his brother mumbled.
Sonic paused. While it was true he liked to go about boasting that he feared nothing, it . . . wasn’t necessarily all true. He didn’t fear Eggman. He didn’t fear pain. He didn’t fear death. But . . .
He sighed. “No . . . I have fears too, buddy,” he forced himself to admit, and one of Tails’ ears perked up.
“Really? What is it?”
Oh boy, this was painful, but anything for your family, Sonic supposed. “A couple things, actually,” he confessed, albeit very softly. “I . . . had some bad experiences with water when I was younger. And I never learned to swim, so . . . you could say I’m afraid of drowning.”
Tails’ big blue eyes were bigger than ever. “Really?”
“Yup. That, and . . .”
“And what?”
Sonic exhaled heavily, then leaned back a little so he could meet the fox kit’s gaze more easily. “Losing you. Anything bad happening to you, actually.”
It took a moment, but that actually put a huge smile on Tails’ face. He was still shivering from his own fears, but he looked downright warm and fuzzy inside as he lay back down against Sonic’s chest, a light purr rumbling from his chest. “I love you,” he mumbled through a tired smile.
Sonic had never been one to express emotions or be all sappy, but dang it, everything was different with Tails. “Love you too, bro,” he whispered back, hugging him just a little tighter.
And they stayed like that for the rest of the night. Tails still jumped at every clap of thunder and whimpered here and there, but Sonic just kept holding him. Eventually, surely after another few hours had passed, Tails had fallen asleep, still cradled in his older brother’s arms. Sonic took a few minutes to enjoy the peacefulness of the moment before surrendering to sleep himself.
(again, I made the art before I wrote the fic, so that's why it's a different setting. Although the pic could also just be a general occurrence, not this specific one 🤷♀️😂)
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Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed!
#sonic the hedgehog#sonic#sonic and tails#miles tails prower#unbreakable bond#sth#they're brothers your honor#wholesome sonic and tails wednesday#happy wholesome sonic and tails wednesday#thunderstorm#fears#art#fic#hope there wasn't too much angst lol#i dont think so#does this count as h/c#idk lol#again this will be posted on my Wattpad asap#i really should just make a post with a link to the Wattpad collection and pin it lol
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tease tuesday
tagged by @rewritetheending @try-set-me-on-fire @eddiebabygirldiaz @devirnis @jeeyuns @athenagranted @malewifediaz <3
hi this is in tiny text because i started rambling.... from i can love you better ft buck’s sucky parents—i do not think buck thinks that family that’s blood or marriage is more important or more real or anything close, but i do think after donor baby it’s something that’s been on his mind a lot. donor, not dad. what counts as being a dad, then? his own? yikes! he’s doing a lot of thinking about ways people are tied together. and a lot of wanting, in the context of his own biological family letting him down again, and christmas being a time everyone around him is with their own families, blood and marriage or whatever. i don’t think he believes it, it’s just one of those lurking sadnesses that lies to you
“They’re my family,” he says, mouth a sad, resigned twist.
You are a real family. Eddie said that to him about these very same people not so long ago. He wishes he hadn’t, offhand and flippant and like it was the most obvious thing in the world, because it’s not. Eddie and his own parents may have been patching things up and making it work, but Buck’s parents are not Eddie’s. If he hadn’t been so quick to extend the same courtesy of second, third, hundredth chance to the Buckleys, if he’d let himself be the one person telling Buck hey, it’s okay to want out of this cycle of unearned forgiveness, of the constant loop of hurt and disappointment, maybe he wouldn’t be stood here, brokenhearted and so terribly small.
Eddie feels his jaw tick as he clenches it. “Not in any way that counts.”
Buck blinks at him, brow beginning to furrow. In askance or objection, Eddie doesn’t know, so he hastens to add, “Sorry, I know I shouldn’t—I can’t decide that for you, but… Buck.” He says his name almost beseechingly, and he is, isn’t he? Beseeching Buck to get this.
“Family makes you feel loved. Looked after. Wanted, even when… Without strings, you know? Not conditionally. Not transactionally. Tell me if I’m wrong—actually, no, don’t, because I’m not wrong, but I don’t think your parents make you feel like that.”
Buck swallows, looking up at the ceiling as he blinks hard.
“And you know you already have that. I know you know that. Your parents—they’re just people you’re related to. People you lived with once. You can’t choose that. You can choose to let go of any belief that you owe them anything more because of it, though. They don’t have to be your family.”
Buck laughs, hollow and awful. “Okay. I know that. I just—I know you’re not supposed to care about, about being blood-related, or tied together in any capacity official enough to be, I dunno, recognised by society at large as family. I know that doesn’t mean anything. But without them, what? I have Maddie and Jee. And I have a whole bunch of friends who love me so damn much I can’t believe it sometimes.” He presses the heels of his palms into his eyes, hard. “And I’m the most ungrateful person in the world for—for wanting something more. Something tangible.”
anyway lol i lost most of this fic when my computer crashed the other day but we cry and persevere ig
tagging @onward--upward @eowon @housewifebuck @buckactuallys @zahlibeth @chronicowboy @transboybuckley if you fancy xoxo
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Hi, @lady-sci-fi I wrote you a fic for your request of Garashir + stranded in a desert + hurt/comfort, for the @startrekwintergiftexchange! Hope you like it! ^_^
Here's the start of the fic! (The whole thing can be found at the ao3 link OR you can expand this post to read the rest of it.)
Red lights flashed and consoles blared angry warnings. The whole runabout shook violently. The planet was getting closer, much too quickly.
“What happened?” Garak asked frantically, coming up behind Julian’s seat and holding tightly to the back of it as the turbulence tried its best to throw him to the floor.
“Solar flare. We’ve lost propulsion, we’re—Shit!—we’re going to crash, I’m sorry, I—” Garak set a hand on Julian’s shoulder for just a moment. Julian took a breath and exhaled. He needed to focus. “I’ll beam us down, I just need to set the coordinates.”
“I’ll grab what supplies I can.”
Julian didn’t have time or presence of mind to acknowledge this, too engrossed in trying desperately to feed in all the parameters the computer would need to transport them somewhere safe. Somewhere on the surface not in midair or underground, somewhere on dry land, somewhere without any other obstacles or topographical features nearby since it wouldn’t do to beam into a rock or a tree or the ledge on the side of a cliff…
The computer finished its calculations and the transporter pad lit up. Julian ran to the back of the runabout, grabbing Garak’s hand on the way and pulling him along with him.
Julian squeezed his hand and they stepped into the transporter beam simultaneously. He wasn’t sure where they would end up. But at least wherever they went, they would go together.
~
The Defiant would rescue them soon, Garak knew.
Garak’s most recent decoding efforts had narrowed down the location of the new base to three possible planets, and when he’d learned that Julian was up next for a shift of runabout piloting, he’d offered to accompany him on the recon mission himself.
Their first stop, Eolia III, had turned out to have an atmosphere that was a bit thin and a climate that was a bit extreme, but the scans showed that it was Jem’Hadar-free. Perfectly harmless, they’d determined.
But the star of the system seemed to object to that categorization, releasing a massive solar flare just as they were attempting to leave orbit, and knocking out propulsion and guidance systems.
And now they were trapped on this world until someone on the Defiant or Starbase 375 noticed that they were late for their rendez-vous. It shouldn’t be long. Starfleet required regular comms and check-ins for missions like these, and they knew exactly which planet they were on. It would be a day or two at most. Sooner, if the distress beacon they’d activated was working.
Knowing all of this did nothing to ameliorate Garak’s sense that this would be the end for both of them.
They were in the middle of a sandy desert, no water or shade cover in sight. They’d painstakingly climbed to the crest of the tallest dune they could see, the loose sand underfoot making them slip back one step for every two steps forward, only to find that the undulating waves of periwinkle sand stretched to the horizon on all sides. With a view like that, it was hard to dismiss the glum—and irrational, he hoped—thought that their bodies would soon get swallowed up by this sea of sand, never to be found.
Garak was sure that he would have very quickly given up and succumbed to the elements without the calming effect of Julian’s incongruously optimistic disposition in light of their problems.
“Oh, Garak, we’re in a right mess, aren’t we,” Julian said with a chuckle and a shake of his head. “When I told the transporter to set us down in a nice, safe, soft, flat spot, I must have searched for a safe landing ellipse of kilometers not meters. Well, there’s no point in wandering far away from the distress beacon. Nothing for it but to wait. Come on, there’s a little shade on this side.”
Then he turned so he was facing parallel to the crest of the dune and planted his feet at different heights on the steeper leeward slope, and let himself slide down the slope, using the arm closer to the dune to slow his descent and keep his balance.
When he looked up at Garak, triumphant, dusted in sand, his smile somehow outshone the sun that was beating down on them.
Garak followed him down, more slowly and cautiously. He was sure it was taking much more energy to control his descent compared to Julian’s method, but it would be worth it to keep himself a little less dusty. Besides, he was sure that he would immediately fall on his ass if he tried it, and he didn’t fancy making a fool of himself in front of Julian.
As it was, he still almost fell a few times, despite his less reckless approach. Julian watched him closely, starting to move toward him each time he wobbled, then stopping when Garak kept his balance. He offered his hand to help Garak on the final stretch to the base of the dune.
It was a relief when he reached the bottom. After the exertion of setting up the distress beacon and climbing up and then the sisyphean slopes of the dune, the sun’s heat seemed to throb in Garak’s head.
“Thank you, my dear,” Garak said, nearly out of breath, letting go of Julian’s hand.
He’d meant to add “Doctor,” but it was too late now.
“Any time.”
They set down their packs—two bug-out bags of emergency survival gear and Julian’s medkit—and sat in the slight shade that the steeper slope of the dune provided. Julian slathered himself with sunscreen and insisted that Garak do the same, despite any protests over the sliminess of it.
The light blueish-purple color of the sand, while beautiful in theory, was irritating in practice. The way it reflected light provided no relief from the intensity of the sun. Garak kept his eyes closed as much as possible, but the brightness of this planet seemed to pierce his eyelids, and he complained about it incessantly for a while until his mouth started to feel dry. He gave up on keeping his clothes pristine and leaned back against the sandy slope with one arm thrown over his face to create more shade.
Julian never stopped talking, except to take precious sips of water from their limited supplies. He told Garak everything he knew about the morphology of sand dunes, the rare diseases that can be transported by dust storms, the various places on Earth and Mars that they could visit to see impressive rock formations made from ancient sand dunes (and tentative plans to visit them together, once there was time), the strange plants and animals that inhabit various deserts on Earth… anything that came to that delightful mind of his.
Garak, for the most part, was content to take in the pleasant sound of his voice, only occasionally throwing in his own commentary and comparisons to Cardassian deserts. It was striking how animated Julian seemed now, and Garak found himself grinning, susceptible to the infectiousness of Julian’s good mood.
And what a difference from this entire past month! They’d all been shuffling mindlessly between the Defiant and Starbase 375, from battle to battle, but Julian in particular had seemed more affected than most. His once eager eyes were now haunted, his once rosy outlook darkened. So it made Garak glad to see that Julian’s spark of joy hadn’t been lost completely to the horrors of war. It had just been a little bit buried. Garak wondered what about being stuck on this desolate planet could have possibly unearthed it again.
Thirst began to gnaw at Garak’s throat more insistently as the day wore on. Unlike Julian, and in defiance of the rational part of his mind, he still didn’t completely trust that they would be rescued quickly, so didn’t want to use up all of their supplies right away. It was uncomfortable but he could handle it. He liked heat—well, it was better than cold, anyway. And this sun was no harsher than Cardassia’s. His scales should be well suited to the climate.
But soon, the sun was nearly overhead and all of their shade was gone, and he wasn’t so sure anymore. His clothes were dark and drank up the heat of the sun, and, despite his usual complaints about the unacceptable chill of Federation stations and starships, he was now much, much hotter than he would have liked. Julian was sweating too; he could see the glisten of it on his skin—
“Garak, could you give me a hand setting this up?”
He blinked. Julian seemed to be wrestling with the tent poles and tarps from their packs. Garak dutifully stood up, then immediately staggered. His head was spinning.
Julian ran over, and put an arm around him to steady him. “Hey, careful now.” He helped him gently back down to the ground and knelt beside him. “What are you feeling?”
“Dizzy.” He licked his dry lips. “Hot.”
Julian looked him over. He placed his fingers on the pulse point on his wrist and then after a little while brushed the back of his hand across Garak’s forehead. “I think it’s heat exhaustion. That’s not good, but at least there’s no obvious fever, so it’s probably not heat stroke. Not yet anyway. But I’ll need to monitor you with the tricorder to make sure it doesn’t get any worse, is that okay?”
Garak hesitated, then nodded.
“All right,” Julian said, seeming a little relieved that Garak was going to let him scan his vitals without the usual fight about it. “You’ll need to drink more water. Slowly, though. I’ll see if I can find a packet of electrolytes to add to it, too, that might help a bit. And then I’ll finish the tent and we can get you out of the sun.”
Garak nodded weakly, as Julian pressed the water bottle into his hand. He took little sips, as instructed, while Julian bustled about setting up camp and fussing over Garak at intervals. Garak felt foolish for thinking he could handle the elements. He’d either grown unforgivably weak in his years on the station or he’d simply forgotten what it was like in an environment like this and had overestimated his ability.
After what felt like a long time of doing nothing but diligently following doctor’s orders, the worst of it did begin to ebb. He even managed to force down a ration bar, at Julian’s behest, while Julian was putting the finishing touches on the tent.
When it was all set up, Julian ushered him into the tent, then followed him in. Garak was a little surprised by that. He’d expected Julian to start setting up the second tent next.
It barely felt any cooler inside. They left the flaps open in hopes of a breeze to make it less of an oven. Still, the reprieve from the direct sunlight was undeniably welcome.
Julian took another scan of Garak with the medical tricorder and studied the results.
“You’re doing great, Garak! You seem well on your way to recovery, and as the sun goes down it should start cooling off to a more comfortable temperature soon…” His brow furrowed. “Hmm, the temperature may then get uncomfortable in the other direction at night. But I suppose we’ll deal with that later. I think for now you should try to get a bit of rest.”
As he spoke, Julian was already pulling a sleeping bag out of one of the packs and spreading it out for him.
“You’ll get no argument from me.” Garak, still feeling utterly drained, curled up on top of the sleeping bag once it was ready. Garak laid on his side looking up at Julian, whose long legs splayed out across the floor of the tent.
“Mmm, and that’s one way I can tell you’re out of sorts. Lack of argumentativeness is a symptom not to be taken lightly for you, Garak,” he teased. “But some rest should get you back into fine arguing form.”
“Good. I’d hate to deprive you of such a thing for long.”
Julian grinned. “I don’t know how I’d survive,” he said sarcastically and yet so fondly that Garak’s heart began pounding in his throat.
Garak’s lingering delirium and the beauty of Julian’s smile conspired to make him blurt out, “It’s good to see you smile again.”
“Oh?”
“I’ve been worried about you lately, but this trip… I have no idea what could have possibly lifted your spirits in this horrid wasteland, but whatever it is, I’m glad.”
Julian grew a little bit somber then.
“I suppose a big part of it is that it’s nice to have an excuse not to think about the war, for just a little while. When we’re in the midst of things, I feel like I’m carrying the weight of the entire war on my back. Always trying to figure out how we could win against impossible odds, or at least make it out alive. Always thinking about the people I couldn’t save—or worse, the ones who I maybe could have saved if I’d just done something differently. But right now…” He shrugged. “There’s absolutely nothing we can do except try to survive ourselves. And that’s freeing, I suppose, in a way.”
“I see. Nothing like a smaller crisis to distract from the much broader, vaguer one.”
“Exactly,” he said emphatically, like he was relieved that Garak had understood him.
Then a slight smile crept back onto his face. “And besides, I’m here with you.”
“Ah yes. ‘Misery loves company.’” Garak recited the human expression, recalling their recent time in the Dominion prison together. “I’m glad that you didn’t get stranded here alone.”
“Well, yes, but…” Julian bit his lip. “It would be a bit more accurate to say that misery loves this company in particular.”
Garak’s eyes widened.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that, I know you made sure that we got assigned to this mission together. I know you missed me, too.”
“Of course I did. Hardly anyone on Starbase 375 has read The Never-Ending Sacrifice.”
“Am I really the only one willing to indulge you?”
“That’s right. You spoil me.”
Julian laughed and then sighed. “I wish that it hadn’t taken a shuttle crash for us to get to spend time together. But these days I’ll have to take what I can get.”
After a moment of consideration, Garak felt he ought to get back on even ground with him. He pushed himself back up to a seated position. Once certain he wasn’t having another spell of dizziness from the change in position, he reached out for Julian’s hand.
Their fingers slipped together so familiarly.
“What else might you take,” Garak asked, “if you could get it?” He rubbed his thumb delicately over the back of Julian’s hand.
“Anything.”
Julian lifted their joined hands and pressed his lips to Garak’s knuckles, lingering long enough that Garak’s breath caught in his throat.
“Everything,” Julian breathed, looking at him from under long lashes.
The heat burning in Garak now had nothing to do with the weather. Their lips met and then their bodies met, and soon enough hands were slipping across sweaty skin to explore the last of each other’s secrets.
~
They were sound asleep, tangled in each other’s arms, when the Defiant arrived to rescue them the next morning.
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Just To See You Smile
Title: Just To See You Smile
Pairing: Chris Evans x F!Reader
Rating: Mature
Word Count: 902
Tags: Angst, fluff, crying, cuddling, Chris is amazing and Dodger is adorable, slight mentions of self-doubt, hurt/comfort, and I think that's it.
Written For: @ultimatechrisbingo
Square(s) Filled: G2 - Netflix and Chill
Beta(s): T. Thompson
Dedicated To: @wermadashatters on AO3
A/N: The photo of Chris kissing the hand is NOT mine. It belongs to @nixakimbo on Instagram. I added their watermark to the picture as well.
Title Card: Yours Truly
The phrase "I'm over today" doesn't even begin to describe how you feel.
Nothing has gone right since the moment you woke up. Your alarm didn't go off, you forgot to transfer your clothes to the dryer so they were still wet this morning, and to top it all off your computer crashed at work.
Tears of frustration slide down your cheeks and onto your shirt as you contemplated going to your parent's house instead of your boyfriend's. Chris was so good to you, almost too good, and you didn't want to burden him with your bad mood.
A faint tap on the glass brings you back to reality and your opportunity to not ruin your boyfriend's day slips through your fingers.
"Sweetheart?"
The sleeve of your sweater wipes your cheeks before you reach over and roll down your window. "I'm sorry." You're not even sure what you're apologizing for, but it feels necessary.
Chris frowns, concern evident in his eyes as he opens the door so he can be closer to you. He kneels on one knee and gingerly cradles your face in his big hands.
"Honey, why are you sorry? What's the matter?"
Fresh tears threaten to spill over your waterline as you gently shake your head. Chris patiently looks at you, his thumbs catch the ones that do fall and it makes the dam inside you break.
Sobs rack your body as he envelopes you in his arms.
"Shh, it's okay… I got you. You're okay. You're safe, baby."
He holds you like that, running his fingers through your hair until your cries are reduced to small hiccups. You pull away just enough to allow yourself the room to look at him. His eyes still show concern, but there are also other emotions in them like love and tenderness that are reserved only for you.
Chris kisses your lips softly and grabs your purse in his free hand, "come on, sweet girl. Let's go inside where it's warm."
He doesn't let go of you until you're sat down on the living room couch. Dodger immediately comes to greet you, and the way he nudges your hand with his nose makes you want to cry all over again.
"I'm going to go make you a snack and grab your favorite pillow and blanket, okay?"
You nod and bury your face in Dodger's fur as he settles in your lap. He smells like Chris, like home, and it's enough to provide you the comfort you need until your boyfriend returns.
By the time he's done, Chris has transformed his whole living room. The lights are dimmed, your favorite show on Netflix is queued up, there's a bowl of popcorn and a glass of your favorite drink on the table in front of you, and he's turned his couch into a makeshift bed.
He reaches down and tucks a lost strand of your hair behind your ear, "can I get you anything else, pretty girl?"
"Just you." Your voice is still shaky, but at least you're not crying anymore.
Chris doesn't hesitate. He maneuvers you so you're both laying down, your back pressed against his chest while Dodger lays at your feet. His fingers brush your bare arm while he uses his other hand to push play on the remote.
You're not paying attention to the show, but the low sound of it in the background is still comforting.
"Do you wanna talk about it?"
His question hangs in the air, but it doesn't make you feel pressured. It has quite the opposite effect, making your feelings feel valid before you've even told him what's wrong.
"Just a lot of little things." You sigh, "today was just a bad day, you know? Everything felt like it was against me. I missed my alarm this morning, I'm dumb and didn't transfer my clothes from the washer to the dryer, so they were wet, and my work computer hates me. I got nothing done today at the office because it crashed and I'm pretty sure my boss hates me now too. I just wish I could start today over so I could stay home and spend it with you."
You lay your head on his chest and play with the chain of his necklace. The sound of his steady heartbeat keeps you grounded as the two of you just breathe together for a moment.
"I'm sorry you had a rough day sweetheart. I want you to know that not only are you amazing, beautiful, and talented, but you're also not dumb. Forgetting to switch your laundry is something we've all done. We're human, baby. It happens. And as far as your boss goes… I'm sure he doesn't hate you. You're a dependable, loyal employee and I'm sure if you explain what happened he'll understand."
You sniffle and nuzzle deeper into his embrace. "Can we just stay like this?"
"Sweet girl, we can do whatever you need to feel better. I'll cancel all of my interviews tomorrow too so we can have a lazy day indoors. How does that sound?"
You gaze up at him and smile. It's the first time today that you've done that and it only makes it wider.
"It sounds amazing, baby. I love you so much."
Chris kisses you sweetly, "I love you too, honey. You're my best girl, you know that?"
You giggle, "I'll always be your best girl."
#j snow writes#ultimatechrisbingo#ultimate chris bingo#chris evans x reader#chris evans x you#chris evans fic#chris evans fluff#dodger evans#cevans
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Hi, I'm always very impressed by your world building skills, even in shorter stories! Do you have any advice for aspiring writers on how to build their fantasy world?
So i drafted a response to this in between working just far too much and then my computer crashed and i lost it. Then i was even busier so i never got around to writing it again but i am making some time this weekend, so worldbuilding post - take 2
My main, high level worldbuilding tips are:
Rule of Cool: worldbuild things you think are fun and interesting. not only is that the best way to get ideas you like and are motivated to write about, but other people will also think they're interesting too. have fun with it.
Iceberg theory: know more about the world than ever makes it into the story. people can sense when worldbuilding is shallow, so even if they never see the true depths of the world they can often sense it's there. plus if u know the whole picture, everything the readers do see will seem more coherent
Integration: i heavily integrate the world i'm building into the story i'm telling--so dig into the plot and characters and make sure that the world and the story serve each other well. your world is there to contribute to the story so make sure its fulfilling that purpose
For more specifics about how i personally world build and for some examples from my stories of the above guidelines, see below.
So firstly, i love worldbuilding. i just think its a ton of fun and could easily spend hours just thinking about worlds in my head. (i mean what else is there to do when ur commuting to work, amiright?) i think that does make it easier for me to take the time to do it right and makes the world come through more vividly in my writing. it can get annoying or tedious or be more challenging at times, but since i like it/find world building interesting, i'm more willing to put in the time and effort to whip it into shape and i get less frustrated with that part of the process in general.
i'm also always thinking about world building to some degree in the back of my mind. picking up interesting information, facts, snatches of cool ideas or images or whatever. then i throw all that in like a junk drawer in my brain so when i sit down to more officially write or flesh out a world, i already have spare parts at my finger tips to use or drawn on.
Reading and consuming other art and worlds also makes it easier to make your own, just lik reading is a key part of writing practice. i don't just mean fiction, but just anything about the actual world makes it much easier to make up your own--that can manifest as awe at the fireflies that actually exist or spite that dragons dont. Whether that's random youtube video essays about the history of musicals or drinks or fashion to books and articles and documentaries or just my friend's niche interests (or their regular jobs). i'm always taking worldbuilding notes in the back of my mind.
For a more writing specific example, i read this short guide '50 Ways to Kill a Mermaid' (its locked for AO3 so u hav to sign in to read it) and it was super fun and cool to read that info from a writer who had studied marine biology. then when i was fleshing out Don't Shoot the Messenger a year later, the problem of Satrasi being a sea demon in a fresh water pool and bloating came to my mind because i'd stored that tidbit from the article away for later use.
My personal method for worldbuilding and plot outlining is sort a brainstorming/Q&A i have with myself (i hope this makes sense when i'm done writing this all out lol).
I've mentioned this before but the prompt that inspired Dale was: "You’re pretty sure your boyfriend was replaced by an eldritch being that can barely emulate being human. Weirdly, you enjoy a better relationship with them than your actual boyfriend."
So when that idea grabbed me, i started brainstorming about the world and asking myself questions. Why is the reader with the boyfriend if they don't really like them? What would make someone stay in a relationship like that? Do i want to make this a dark story? And i did not, i wanted it to be fun, so the arranged marriage angle came to mind. And if that's the premise then when is the story? is this our 'past' or another world entirely? diff world means more freedom so i automatically leaned in that direction.
Can the reader tell the 'boyfriend' has been replaced? Are demons a thing people know about? does the reader know that's an option? which is more fun? if the reader is worried about Dale getting caught, that's more room for hijinks so then yes, demons are known, but not common otherwise too many people would notice.
So my plot and worldbuilding are evolving in tandem and informing each other, based on the type of story i want to tell and how the characters i have in mind will react etc.
i run through a lot of ideas and turn them over in my head--trying out diff pieces to see if they fit--and am always willing to drop an idea or save it for another story if i don't think its working for the current one
For iceberg theory, i mentioned above for Dale would be the religions in that world. When i decided to introduce a priest like character (for discovery danger) i knew i needed to focus more on the religions than i previously had noted. the majority of what i came up with isn't int he story, but i think the fact that i know it helps me write when did end up in there, helped make it consistent, and means i can more easily work in allusions to it without having to work so hard those singular times.
For example, i'd decided to call the demon realm "the Depths" early on, which to me already invokes deep water and darkness, so i followed that through to sort height and air and light as being perceived more positively. fire and light are important symbols in this world and they primarily burn their dead--to bury someone below ground would be seen as almost condemning them and someone drowning is also seen as like, not good for their soul because what if it is 'pulled down' rather than 'ascending'. some of this was alluded to in the chapter, but most of it is not. this also helped me come up with the various "by the light" "dawn's ire" and other similar little 'religious' phrases and exclamations different characters use at times.
Meanwhile, in Sacrifice, the people living their are relatively non-religious--thats why they both don't pray to any other deities and it takes 5 years of problems to even bother trying an old god. it's not sacrilege because they're desperate people trying a long shot, not violating or abandoning a different belief. because i wanted the reader's main problem with it all to just be that they didn't think it work.
And why is she a translator? because i wanted to use the idea from that one post that goes around about how ridiculous it is in movies when their translated prophecies rhyme in english. why are they arguing about the translation? because its a dead language so no one really speaks it, that means the people who came up with it were here a century ago or longer. why aren't they here anymore? nomadic so they left and ended up staying away because of a natural disaster elsewhere. why is this town here now? a particular export/resource in this area became valuable enough for people to try to live here. the fact that its a lumber town due to some rare wood native to the area doesn't come up in the story, but i know it and i think that i know that about the town helps it feel more real, makes it easier for me to reach for new details when i need them
and going back to anything can be inspiration, let's talk about the doorlock in the very beginning of Finally Woken. its literally just a magical keypad/number pad but with different colored tiles instead of numbers because i wanted the reader to be able to get in, but i felt it didnt make sense for them to hav a physical key. and i thought it would look cool in Heshi's door and it went well with the fact that he's a glassblower . also, why is Heshi a glassblower? because i frickin' lov blown glass - i just think its so cool and pretty. that helped lead into the sort of artisan economy feel that world has.
Each of these stories has an outline and notes doc at a minimum. the notes doc is where i throw lik pics, inspiration posts, random worldbuilding ideas etc. only much shorter stories or stories that are heavily based in 'modern' world don't hav extensive random notes.
my Dale folder has subfolders for characters and the setting, as well as random worldbuilding files such as "demon summoning/magic" "spiritual belief and org" "fashion - feminine" and so on. Even excluding the plot outline and chapter notes (and not counting pics) i've got like, over 4k of random notes saved. dale is the one i hav the most of that for, but all my fics have some little section with stuff like that jotted down
in the end, i think the best way to sum up all that is with my three original rules of: put stuff u think is cool in your world, known more than you tell to help everything fit together and seem deep, and build your world around your plot and characters because they should all be working together to tell the story you want to tell.
honestly, i could ramble about worldbuilding all day so if anyone has any questions or wants more examples, just let me know ^^
#asks#writing asks#story asks#man did i apparently really want to talk about anything that isn't work or what?#this is why 'rambling' is in my other tumblr username#worldbuilding#fantasy world building#world building#i really do enjoy world building a lot#writing#i rly hope this made some sense#sorry for the delay in answering#i'm still kinda salty my original answer got eaten by my computer#look sometimes ur worldbuilding is because you learned a lot about operetta in a documentary#sometimes its because the idea of a secret corset busk knife is cool#ur guess as to what's gonna show up in dale next#but one of them will and yes that is a threat
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Something I've been thinking a lot about has been the TFS Collector's Edition book. Yeah, it's not out yet and all, however. On the preview for it on the store, you can see two pages. And the full text is readable if you zoom in and I transcribed it in full and I've been losing my mind about it for a while now.
So first and foremost, there's two books of some kind. I'm not sure what the one with signatures and symbols is: it's called "Collectio Autographorum" which would be a collection of autographs:
That's not the one I want to talk about. I want to talk about the other one, which is given a description on the TFS store page:
As the final confrontation with the Witness draws near, Eido scours the solar system looking for clues, messages, and intel on the origins of the Witness to share with Guardians. During her travels, she finds a gift to honor your service—a Light to accompany the Darkness.
It's a text from Eido! The book is called "Entelechy" and here's the two pages visible on the store:
I'll put the whole transcript under read more, but before that let me describe what the text is about because it's fascinating.
The left page starts mid-text so a lot of the context is lost. It's seemingly a conversation between two unidentified people that are designated only with a random string of letters and numbers: one is "RS6243199" and the other is "HNW047622." Several lines include uncertain translations. The two discuss the concept of the final shape.
The right page, the one in blue, is text from Eido. The first section features footnotes about parts of the text that we can't see. All three footnotes refer to something that's not visible on the preview. It includes Eido's notes about the way these two individuals talk about the final shape, Eido's confusion about what the Consensus is and finally a note about some sort of "computational assistant" that shares a naming pattern with Vex minds.
Eido continues by talking about some sort of "Scribe Archive" that might be referring to the conversation of the two unidentified individuals she's analysing (this archive is also referenced in the first footnote). She says she followed crumbs of data to a databank from a "Rainship" (ship from the House of Rain) that originally crashed on Mercury. Saint and Osiris help her get this information and the trio talks about Mercury; how it used to be a garden world, how the sun never sets there and how Eido is eager for Mercury to be returned from the Witness' grasp so that she may visit.
We don't know the timeline of this of course so we have no clue when this conversation is happening and therefore we can't say what's up with Mercury and its possible return. The only thing I'm mildly sure of is that this conversation is probably taking place around the same time period we're in now; Eido is currently travelling and investigating things in order to help prepare us for the fight in TFS. It's certainly happening after Ahsa's reveal about the Witness because down in the text Eido identifies the individuals in the text as ... members of the Witness's species. Its precursors. It's her speculation and leads her to believe it's the first ever mention of the concept of the final shape, as discussed by the people that would later turn themselves into the Witness.
Very interesting! Most of all what's interesting is the implication that Eido somehow found records of a communication log from literally the most ancient of times and the possibility that this log was being kept on an Eliksni ship that crashed on Mercury (or at least that this ship had some sort of a code to crack this communication's log; it's not very clear because again, we're missing quite a lot of context). It's an interesting possibility! And of course, a really intriguing look into what the Witness' species was like and how they talked before they became the Witness. At least two of them!
Also I have no clue what the images on the left page are. It's incredibly hard to see even if you zoom in. Because of the mention of Vex minds and Mercury, my brain immediately tried to identify it as something Vex, especially because of the colouring as well, but I genuinely don't know. It could be anything.
Something to think about while we wait! I'm super excited to see more of the stuff on the Witness' species and the conversations between these two (perhaps more) individuals in the rest of the book.
Full text below:
Left page:
...Bountiful/Swarm] on their path to their great, fatal error. It did not stop the [Conquerors/Primacy/Sovereign] from using the gifts it granted for subjugation. Are we to accept that these, too, were meant to happen? If you reject the notion that destruction can be a final shape, how are we to accept that the Gardener allowed us to make such grievous mistakes?
[RS6243199] Even after all these millennia, there is much we do not understand about the Gardener. Perhaps we will not understand until we have achieved the final shape for ourselves.
[HNW047622] And when we have reached the final shape, will it all make sense? Will we all be able to live in a universe where people act, as they have always acter, for the self-evident good? Where evil does not exist because we do not allow it? Where all aligned without suffering or doubt?
[RS6243199] This isn't like you, my friend. I am coming to see you. All will be well.
TRANSCRIPTION ENDS
Analysis by Eido:
SCRIBE NOTES
* The final shape is no longer described with a sensory semantic cluster (c.f. SCRIBE ARCHIVE X1-2-4A), but HNW and RS continue to use that structure to describe other concepts. Potentially reflective of semantic narrowing?
** Given the terminology, this Consensus might have been some sort of governing body, or a source of philosophical guidance.
*** From this context, some sort of computational assistant? There appears to be some etymological overlap with the names of Vex Minds. Something to investigate later, perhaps!
My cross-check for the identification code in SCRIBE ARCHIVE X1-2-4A proved quite fruitful. The trail of datacrumbs led me to a databank retrieved from a Rainship originally downed on Mercury! The Saint and Osiris were kind enough to share it with me, along with a pot of tea.
Our conversation was most illuminating. I understand that Mercury was a scorched wasteland before the Great Machine's arrival. When it had finished, Humans could walk unprotected on its surface. What wonders the Great Machine can work! I can only hope that Mercury will return from the Witness's clutches, released as Titan was, so that I may see it for myself. I hear that, thanks to Sol engulfing its sky, one could study without pause... or at least until exhaustion proved greater than the desire to learn! Perhaps I could catch up on some light reading...
In any case, the concept of the final shape has worn many faces. From your encounters with the Disciples of the Witness we know that they all had their own understanding of this concept – that they all saw what they wished to see in it. But this communications log, here, appears to predate all of them. If I am correct, and the parties communicating are among the Witness's precursors, then this may be the concept's original form.
We can see in this log that HNW and RS, at least, were preoccupied with the concept of a higher purpose. They sought...
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Do the virtues ever try to teach gabriel (potentially v1 too) about human activities? Like teaching them the rules of basketball just for v1 to make it into something super violent
the virtues absolutely try to teach gabriel about human things! i think gabe was actually fairly sociable before things fell apart in heaven, attached to his role as messenger to humanity and gaining an affection for them that many higher angels didn't just due to exposure. so he's learned a few things from those he used to speak with, especially concerning leisure activities like sports or games and cultural practices (or even pop culture lol), but his most comprehensive knowledge comes from the time he was "active" on earth...meaning a lot of his points of reference are still largely from biblical times lol it's tempered by some bits and pieces he learned from his rare downtime in heaven when he was able to speak with more modern human souls, but he definitely learns a lot more since these virtues are some of the few friends he has left. they actually give him a lot of practical advice, as true angels, while near perfect at their designated roles, have little capacity for innovation or creativity. so the virtues guide him through maintaining a home and tending a garden (one of the virtues is quite old, from gabe's "time", and so knows how to care for crops), as well as offering cooking tips. however, gabriel begins to sort of encourage them to speak on whatever they wish, wanting a refrain from how stressful his life is (and has been for decades now), and that's when they tell him about all sort of other little human activities that he frankly never knew had such breadth and variety
games are a big part of this, and while it takes some convincing for v1 to engage in board games (computer chess......), it absolutely wants to try out every sport they describe!!! gabriel is intent on keeping it more traditional (that is, NON-violent so that v1 is engaging in more well-rounded activities), but then there's things like dodgeball, which he swears must have been made for it (it can't convince him of the game "dodgebomb", which it thinks is an innovative spin on the classic) but one of my favorite ideas is a virtue introducing him to ice skating - gabriel, at first, just sort of listens politely to them describing it, initially not terribly interested in it himself given how cold he always is, how ice is a central part of his literal hellish existence. yet the description won't leave his mind, intrigued greatly by the combination of strength and grace required to truly engage with it as a sport. it pesters him so much that he eventually does decide to learn, he braces himself against the cold because something in it captivates him and he needs to understand what. it's not the easiest learning process, though v1 being with him helps a lot (it falls down constantly and seems excited by the prospect of crashing into things, so his own failures don't seem so bad) but when he begins to understand it, when the parts start moving together and his whole body is working in tandem...it reminds him of flying. the ground is barely there, the friction feels ephemeral, the wind shifts all around him and he feels light again. ironic that ice could give this to him, the very thing meant to trap him in everlasting grief providing the only simulacrum he's found of his lost flight.
#plus....couple routines.....#also i think he gets his wings a bit involved when he can#when the pain isn't too bad#and he can feel them in the air again for a minute#cake answers#fallen gabriel
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Will you still be making a part 3 to the Chrissy Lives Fancomic?
UPDATE ON THE CHRISSY WAKES UP FANCOMIC!
I did get very far in the Part 3 but sadly lost almost all progress, due to a computer crash. So that kind of killed my motivation to go back and redo the whole thing. Not to mention the story does get a lot more dialogue heavy and there is a lot more content to make per batch. This completely killed my motivation for the comic overall. BUT... I did come up with a solution.
I am going to transfer the comic into a fan fiction format on AO3 "Chrissy, you Woke up!" with more parts and significantly faster updates, BUT ALSO with a few illustrations included so that the drawings are still present in the story. I estimate anywhere between 10-12 chapters.
As for when this will be out. The first 3. can be expected to be out in the following order.
CHAPTER ONE: Chrissy, What Happened? (OUT FEB. 20TH)
CHAPTER TWO: Safe and Plenty of Sound (OUT FEB. 24th)
CHAPTER THREE: Pillow Talking your way Out (OUT FEB 28TH)
Once again thank you again for all of your support and for all of the love for the first two parts, and I hope that this can compensate for the lack of new fan comic material.
I will publish the link for the first part, on 20th of February. Dates for further chapter to be announced.
See you then!
#hellcheer#hellcheer week#eddissy#munningham#Eddie and chrissy#Eddie munson#stranger things#fan fiction#chrissy Cunningham#chrissy wake up#fan comic#ao3
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