#Drakgo my beloved | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bcbdrums · 2 years

Text

Evil Starts...Eventually

A/N: Well I've been concerned I couldn't write Drakgo anymore, as every recent attempt since January has failed utterly. But then my friend @midnightcaptions drew this amazing art for me and I gathered up my inspiration to write a tiny ficlet to go with it. The title is a nod to one of her amazing WIPs I've been privileged to read actually; she gets it.

Gonna rate this short one a soft M. Be warned, slight mature content. Enjoy!

Read on: FFn AO3

------------------------------------------

Drakken held his eyes closed as he reluctantly swung his legs out of bed to begin the day's evil plotting and lingered there as he took in the feeling of the cool of the floor beneath his toes. Though his skin was bare from said toes to his head, he wasn't chilled; he was warmed both from the light of the sunrise streaming in through the window and from recent, pleasant memories which sent thoughts of evil far from his mind.

Images and feelings swam in the darkness behind his tired, heavy eyelids, and he kept them closed and let the reminiscence take over. Laughter, raven hair falling all around him, and green skin pressed against his while love was whispered in his ear, softly and secretly for only his hearing.

He smiled at the recollection and was further warmed when he felt the tickle of tousled hair pressing against his cheek, followed by a hand that caressed his jaw for a moment before falling against his chest, and another hand on his leg as his beloved crept near to lean against him, stretching briefly like a cat as she stayed semi-reclined in the bed. He leaned lightly into her nuzzling touch and set his arm around her, his fingers weaving into her impossibly luxurious hair after a moment. He took one indulgent glance at her perfect, nude form, and then closed his eyes again and let his mind go blank as happiness encompassed him.

"Hmmm." Her soft sigh of contentment finally broke the silence of the morning as they rested in the peace of one another.

His lips, chapped from too many kisses, finally parted as her own pressed against his jaw.

"Are you going to tell me you love me again?" he asked through a smile.

Her response was to lean against him more heavily and place a tiny kiss on his neck that awoke every nerve in his body.

"Mmh...that wouldn't be very evil of me," she replied softly, her lips brushing his jaw as she spoke.

The rays of the sun brought a light to the room that heightened all of Drakken's senses, the pulsing warmth in his heart more than any other. He opened his bleary eyes and held Shego's arms to guide her as he slowly lie back down, she moving over him to nestle on his chest with her legs between his.

"You were plenty evil last night," he quipped after a moment.

She chuckled, her fingers tracing his collarbone as he held her around her back, his fingers idly massaging her flesh through her ripples of hair.

"Was I? Do I need to balance it out with something sweet?"

He was about to say she'd whispered more than enough affirmations to him through their love-making, but green eyes suddenly fixed upon his stayed his words. Her hand cupped his cheek as she smiled down at him, and it was already enough; the words weren't necessary, but still they came.

"I love you, Drakken."

It took his breath away. Everything about her always did.

He felt lost in a dream as her hair fell around them again, her knees moving to be astride his hips as she shifted to make their cuddling even more intimate. And he closed his eyes and let the bliss take him as he drew her near until their lips met in the first of what he knew would be many kisses that morning. Evil could wait a little longer.

16 notes · View notes

gofordrakgo · 4 years

Note

slice of life, pregnancy, drakgo pleeeeease

Well! This took me awhile to get around to, but it’s finally written! I hope it proves to be worth the wait! Enjoy some drakgo fluff!

"Though her skin still beckoned his lips he resigned himself to kneading his knuckles along her spine the best he could in the somewhat awkward position, while they watched the snow falling over the ocean. “Does this count as their first snowfall?” Drew teased quietly."

The list - scrawled across an entire wall of the kitchen in variously colored erasable markers - had been thoroughly ingrained in his mind for weeks. He knew every possible choice by heart. That didn’t stop him from turning his attention to it as soon as he popped the homemade cinnamon rolls into the oven. Cradling a mixing bowl in one arm, he absentmindedly stirred the ingredients for the icing together as he stared at the list.

He knew they needed to make a decision, and soon, but he was as indecisive as ever. He just hoped that when the time came they would somehow instinctively know and that they wouldn’t end up regretting the decision later on.

Arms wrapping around his waist behind him pulled him out of his distracted stupor, and tension he hadn’t noticed faded as he relaxed into her.

“Good morning,” he greeted just before his wife’s hug loosened. Her hands traveled up to his shoulders, and then to his head where she pushed her fingers through his hair. A pleasant shiver coursed through him when her lips pressed against the nape of his neck.

Sometimes he missed his long hair and wished that his flower sprouted out of his arms instead, like that one popular arachnid comic book character. Then, perhaps, he wouldn’t have had to cut off his ponytail to stop the vines from tangling in it. When she was there, however, silently reminding him that she liked it the way it was, he forgot all about his petty regrets. Not to mention the fact that even though they had left villainy and begun using their proper names in conversation he really had no interest whatsoever in looking like a hero. Even if he technically was one. And even if he was quite proud of his accomplishment.

Stretching an arm out he let the bowl of frosting fall to the counter so he could turn and give her a proper kiss before she asked, “Have you narrowed it down any yet?” tilting her head toward the list behind him.

He shook his head and stepped away to take their breakfast out of the oven. “Have you?” he asked in turn as he frosted the piping hot cinnamon rolls.

She looked more than a little dismayed when she also had to shake her head. Her shoulders slumped. “Nope. Not even a little.”

“Well, we still have some time.” He was trying to be comforting, but he knew it wasn’t much use. The decision had been weighing on them for months.

“We might not, Drew. You never know.”

With a horrified sense of glee, he realized that she was right. A few weeks earlier than expected wouldn’t be too unusual. He practically collapsed to his knees in front of her and planted a kiss on her stomach. “You two better not even think of coming early. At least let us narrow it down a little first,” he quietly, almost jokingly, begged. She brushed her fingers through his hair again and for a brief moment his eyes fluttered shut and he let his head go limp against her palm.

Icing splattering against his glasses made him sputter and pull away.

“Those are–,” he cut off his warning at the sight of her raised eyebrow. Of course, she wouldn’t care at all that they were still hot. A breathy laugh left him as he stood to rinse his glasses in the sink.

He’d asked her once if she ever thought of the fact that it might hurt the babies to eat things that were still piping hot. Having a slice of homemade pizza hurled at his face fresh out of the oven was a good way of telling him to shut up, though speaking to a medical professional about it had been more helpful at reassuring him the babies would be fine.

“The twins like them,” she said, grabbing his hand to let him feel them kicking with all the giddiness as she had the first time they’d moved.

He grinned, drying his glasses off with his shirt. “I’m so proud.”

Suddenly she threw her arms around his neck, dragging him into an unexpected kiss that tasted like cinnamon and sugar. When she stilled, leaving him delightfully breathless, she murmured, “Guess what?” against his lips.

He only managed to hum his acknowledgment, greedily focused on her touch and the feel of her lips on his to properly respond.

“It’s snowing,” she told him, turning her head as she pointed out the window above the kitchen sink. He took the opportunity to turn his desire fueled attention to her neck. For a moment that would have been too short if it had lasted hours, she held him close, letting out a content sigh that warmed him to his core. With a shuddery breath, she gently pushed him away. “Drew. Breakfast. Snow.” She was smiling at him as she said it, though her voice sounded serious.

“Drew… Shea,” he argued, gesturing to her. Before he could move back into her she stuffed a bite of cinnamon roll into his mouth. It was a bit conceited, he was sure, but he instantly let himself be distracted by how delicious it was.

He just managed to grab a roll for himself before she snapped up the whole tray and retreated into the living room with a wry grin. Staving off a smirk he trailed leisurely after her, shaking his head at the sight of her cross-legged on the ground in front of the floor-to-ceiling window. He paused to watch her for a moment, still flabbergasted nearly a year after he finally worked up the courage to tell her he loved her that, for some reason, she had decided she loved him too.

Snatching the blanket from the back of the couch on the way, despite how comfortably warm it was inside, he joined her on the floor. She settled herself between his legs almost immediately with her back pressed to his chest and her hands atop his over her stomach.

“I love you,” they synchronized.

She let out a low moan, muttering some complaint that her lower back was hurting, as it had been doing more and more frequently. Though her skin still beckoned his lips he resigned himself to kneading his knuckles along her spine the best he could in the somewhat awkward position, while they watched the snow falling over the ocean.

“Does this count as their first snowfall?” Drew teased quietly.

Shea snorted, shaking her head.“If they’re still inside my body, then no.”

“I can’t wait to meet them,” he said, not at all surprised to find tears welling up in his eyes. He’d cried more in the months since he’d found out he was going to be a father than he had in all the years since the day he dropped out of college. Which, admittedly, had been far too many tears then. Until he’d met her. Someday…someday he would tell her she had been the one who inspired him to seek the world.

“I’d still like to have names for them,” she countered, rubbing her thumb in circles on his knee. “Even if we named one Petunia like your mother wanted.”

“She thinks she’s so funny,” he muttered. “ Oh, Drew,” he began mimicking his beloved mother in a falsely high pitched voice, “how cute would it be to name a little girl after a flower, just like her daddy?”

Shea patted his knee. “We both know that’s not how that conversation went down… Drewbie.”

“Oh, haha,” he replied dryly. “Yes, she did call me Drewbie. But every other word was… um… Every other word was verbatim!”

“That’s a big word!” she just continued to mock. “And you even used it right! I’m so proud.”

“You know, if I didn’t love you as much as I do I’d—”

Shea snorted without letting him even finish his sentence, twisting in his arms as she shook her head. “No, you wouldn’t.”

He managed to glare at her for an entire five seconds before his facade cracked and he grinned. “I really wouldn’t,” he agreed, planting a kiss on her cheek.

Her face softened, in a way he was slowly getting used to. “I love you too,” she murmured, although she didn’t really need to. Surprising though it was, he could practically feel how much she loved him when she smiled so warmly at him the way she was.

Just as they both leaned in for a kiss the loud ringing of what was meant to be an emergency phone interrupted them. With a sigh, he quickly pecked her lips then shot her an apologetic look as he clambered to his feet. She was still giving him that same soft look as he rushed across the room to answer, so he figured it may be safe to guess that she wasn’t upset with him.

Before he could even say hello, his mother’s shrill voice was crooning in his ear. “Have my two babies figured out names for their two babies yet?”

He sighed, mouthing, “It’s my mother,” to which Shea only smirked and directed her gaze back to the snow. Of course, she wasn’t surprised about who dared to call them so early in the morning. As much as he loved his mother, her once weekly phone calls had turned into more than three times a day since he’d told her about the twins and he was growing unfortunately tired of talking to her. It hadn’t helped that his mother spent the first three months yelling at him for not inviting her to the wedding. He didn’t dare to mention that they’d had it in a panic less than a day after they’d realized Shea was pregnant.

“Good morning, Mother,” he greeted as politely as possible despite his annoyance. “And no. We’re still trying to narrow it down. But we’re getting closer!” That was a lie, but he hoped that it would dissuade her from trying to give him any more suggestions.

It didn’t.

“What about Petunia?” she asked. He could picture the over-excited grin on her face as if she were standing right before him.

“Mother,” Drew sighed, not sure if he should be annoyed or worried that she was repeating herself. From the corner of his eye, he could see Shea attempting to get off the floor and he rushed back to her to give her a hand.

She smiled at him and popped the last bite of… the very last remaining cinnamon roll into his mouth while - unaffected by what he thought was an obvious lack of interest in her unhelpful suggestions - his mother continued, “Azalea?”

“Mother, please.”

“I’ll be in the kitchen,” Shea whispered, and he couldn’t help but watch her as she walked away. He couldn’t resist smiling as he watched her drag her fingers through the tray, licking up any remaining trace of food and he reminded himself silently that he would have to try making them with strawberry icing for her.

“Marigold?” The squeal that followed made him jerk the phone from his ear and wince in pain. Rubbing his ringing ear he switched the phone to his other hand just in time to hear, “Oh, Drew, Mary Lipsky would be so cute!”

Exasperated beyond measure, he tore his gaze away from Shea’s backside and grumbled, “I am not naming my children after plants.”

“But they could be little twin flowers!”

Lying to his mother for the second time in one short phone call didn’t make him feel particularly good, but it didn’t stop him from pointedly claiming, “I think I hear Shea calling for me, Mother! I have to go now!”

He almost began to cry when even claiming his eight months pregnant wife was calling for him didn’t stop her. “If it’s a little boy you could name him Cedar! Or Cypress. Or Oleander!”

“It’s twins, Mother,” he reminded impatiently. “It might be two little boys. Goodbye!”

He really did feel bad for hanging up, cutting off her farewells, but he was too tired of listening to her incessant rambling to care too much.

Similarly to the way he had been not an hour earlier, Shea was staring at the list hard enough his head ached. “What were your mother’s suggestions this time?” she teased when she saw him walk into the room, and she twirled an uncapped marker between her fingers.

“They were all plant names.”

“Tell me anyway?”

After a moment of annoyed grumbling, he listed off the names, rolling his eyes when she added every single one to the list as if it weren’t tortuously long already. He sidled up behind her again, massaging down her back and hips before letting his hands rest lightly on her stomach, delighting in the slight movement beneath his palms as she continued to twirl the marker and glare at the wall.

He had let his head fall on her shoulder, his face nuzzled against her neck, and his eyes had begun fluttering shut by the time she whispered to him, “You know what? I kinda like Oleander, actually.”

“I do too,” he muttered against her skin, annoyed at himself for letting his mother get in his head. He’d been so confident that they would find names on their own, without anyone else’s help. “Little Olly... We’re not doing it.”

Shea laughed, presumably at how whiny he sounded, and reached a hand up to stroke his cheek. “Middle name?”

“That… could work,” he mused as he stood up straighter and moved to face her as they talked. “But we’re not telling my mother!”

She rolled her eyes. “Are you just going to keep our children’s names a secret? Oh don’t pout,” she added as his face fell. “You know I just want to kiss you when you do.”

Grinning, he rocked forward and landed a gentle kiss on her lips, happy to oblige anytime she even thought she might want a kiss from him.

“I kind of like Azalea for a middle name too,” she admitted as he pulled away.

“Well, fine,” he whined, gesturing wildly at the list. “But picking their middle names doesn’t help if they still don’t have first names!”

“How is it that the brilliant Doctor Drakken could name all those schemes and inventions, but now can’t even name his own children?”

He grunted and crossed his arms. “How is it that the great and powerful Shego could fight off teen heroes all day but now can’t even stand up off the floor on her own?”

“I’ve got two six-pound parasites growing in my stomach,” she laughed. “What’s your excuse?”

“Nngh– I love those parasites and their host too much to risk ruining their lives with names that don’t suit them!” He snapped his gaze back to the wall, glaring at the list with growing resentment. “I don’t want them to hate me,” he mumbled after a moment. “Giving them names that they grow up and get made fun of over would be the quickest way to get them to.”

“They’re never going to hate you, Drew,” she assured him, squeezing his hand. “You’re going to be the best dad they could possibly have. Come on, let’s just forget this for a little while.”

Trying not to cry, he let her tug him to the door. “What are you doing?” he asked, giving her a watery smile and pushing his glasses aside to swipe at tears before they fell.

“We should enjoy the snow for a few minutes,” she explained, tugging her coat over her arms. She held up her boots to him, which he slid on her feet and laced up for her before getting himself ready to go outside as well.

“This might be our last childless snow,” he murmured while the two walked out into the haze of gently falling snowflakes. “And I can’t even throw snowballs at you.”

“The twins are on my snowball fight team as soon as they’re old enough!”

“Why do you get them both?”

“I just deserve it. You can have your flower help you.”

“It doesn’t like the cold!”

“Then I guess you’re just gonna lose.” She shrugged nonchalantly at him before turning her gaze up to the sky, opening her mouth to catch snowflakes on her tongue.

He really did love her. Which he supposed explained why he moved closer to whisper in her ear, “Wanna make a deal?”

“I don’t have a soul to sell. You know that.”

He laughed but shook his head. “Whoever picks the names for the twins gets them on their snowball fight team.”

“Oh,” Shea cackled, already turning on her heel. “You’re so on, nerdlinger.”

He followed after her as she walked back into the kitchen, and while she plopped herself down at the table to resume staring at the list, he made himself busy making hot cocoa moo with an extra splash of cinnamon in her mug.

“You know what?” he murmured, three cups of cocoa moo and two bags of popcorn later. His eyes burned and he felt like his brain had turned to liquid inside his head, from doing nothing more than thinking about the list for so long.

“Hmm?” came Shea’s sleepy response, half-asleep with her head on his shoulder.

“I think we should erase the list. Maybe we’ll just know what to name them when we see them. What if we decided on names and then we see our babies and they don’t look like a Rosie or a Cypress?”

“Tell you what, Doc,” she muttered. “I think that’s the first good baby name suggestion you’ve made in two months.”

Despite his objections to her statement, he made quick work of washing the list off the wall. As he turned back to her, a weight lifted off his shoulders despite the fact they never made a decision, he teased, “I suppose you were right, Shea. Lists are lame.”

#drakgo #drakken #shego #shego x drakken #drakken x shego #drakgo fanfic #gofordrakgo #oneshot #List #anon #11 pages #2989 words

13 notes · View notes

flowery-laser-blasts · 3 months

Text

All I've ever wanted... (a dark fanfic)

"I did it, I actually did it!"

Dr. Drakken felt his heart pound inside of his chest as he stepped onto the stage. He couldn't help but grin as he watched the faces of the world leaders; fright, disbelief, and shock were smeared all over their ugly mugs. And most importantly, all their eyes were locked on the mad scientist. Flashing cameras from news reporters, each in attendance from places all across the world, were transfixed on him. Drakken was about to make a speech, addressing his next course of action now that the world belonged to him and him only.

Drakken cleared his throat and leaned towards one of the dozen microphones in front of him. As he was about to speak, he suddenly felt something was off about this whole scenario. Something, no rather, someone was missing as he glanced towards his right side.

"Shego?" he mouthed. He turned back to face the crowd and startled when met with silence. The once buzzing and stuffed conference room was now vacant and deserted, as if something had whisked everyone away.

The man quickly climbed off the stage and headed towards the exit door. When he opened it up, gone was the conference room hallway and in its place he was met with a dark, endless void.

Drakken called out to no one in particular, hoping to hear a response, but once again he heard nothing. As he turned around, he spotted something out of the corner of his eye; a dim green light was flickering in the distance as if it fought to stay connected to the dark silhouette sprawled out on the floor.

"She— Shego!" Drakken felt panic rush in as there came no response from the figure. He forced himself to move closer, but with each step he took, his legs became twice as heavy. "Shego, is that you? Answer me!" he cried out.

After what felt like ages, he managed to get near enough to confirm his worst fear. Drakken fell to his knees in defeat, letting out a guttural scream as he tried with all of his strength to reach out to the woman he loved. Millions of questions raced through his head all at once: How could this happen? When did this happen? Who was responsible for this atrocity!?

"No— No, no, NO!" He choked back tears as he watched the remnants of green light die at his lover's fingertips.

"What's wrong?"

Drakken froze as he heard his own voice coming from behind him.

"Why do you care so much about a mere sidekick? She's as replaceable as your henchmen," the voice taunted him. "Just take a strand of her hair and clone her; maybe even replace that snarky personality of hers with a more obedient one."

The voice was getting closer.

Flee, now!

Drakken's instincts kicked in. A sharp pain shot through his body as he got back on his feet. He ran through the dark as hard as he could, feeling the gaze of the doppelganger burn into his skull. If he could keep enough distance, then maybe he could find a way out of this place. Drakken clenched his teeth as a deafening ringing filled his ears until... 'Beep, beep, bee-beep.'

"Possible!" The scientist searched haphazardly in the dim light for the source of the sound until his eyes fell upon his arch-nemesis. "KI-KIM! KIM POSSIBLE, OVER HERE! HELP ME!"

Drakken waved his arms frantically as he began running in her direction. A newfound hope dulled out all the pain in his aching body.

This teen can do anything! She's forgiving, strong, resilient! Surely she'll help me get out of this mess.

Drakken's thoughts were disrupted as he felt his feet slip from underneath him and he hit the ground with a thud. The man stayed down a moment as he held his head in pain and checked his stinging hands for signs of blood; thankfully there were none. He looked at the spot where he slipped.

"Ice?" he questioned out loud. A small patch of ice was on the floor and it formed a trail underneath him. Curiously he followed it with his eyes, to find that it led to the teen superhero not three meters in front of him. Kim looked up at the blackened sky above them, her hands above her head as if she were carrying a big invisible tray or surrendering herself. Drakken noted other things: her skin, hair, and clothes were drenched with water, her focused eyes were dark and sunken in, her lips were rough, burst and bleeding but most frightening of all…her entire face was blue.

"Oh yeah, that's right... We locked her up in a basin with water and then topped it off with a thick layer of solid ice... The brat froze to death or drowned. Either way, it doesn't matter. That poor thing thought she could belt herself to freedom. We both know that the human voice can't crack a dent in layers upon layers of solid ice!" The voice started cackling loudly. "We finally defeated that little meddling pest. You should be happy!" The voice sounded closer than before.

I'm done for.

"No there's gotta be— There's gotta be a way out of here!" Drakken cursed under his breath.

He focused on getting up. But the second his foot touched the ground, instead of a hard surface he was met with a goopy, black ooze. The earth underneath him started to shift into a sticky, pitch-black pool that clung to his clothes. With every movement he made, he felt himself sink further into it.

Drakken tried clawing at the parts that seemed still intact, only for it to flow through his fingers until he felt a shoe. His gaze shot upwards to see Kim Possible's sidekick staring back at him. His face was somber with no hint of empathy or remorse for the man as he slowly became more and more engulfed in tar.

Drakken tried getting a hold of the boy's leg, opened his mouth to plead with him for help. But when he tried to speak, nothing came from his lips.

"Oh, that's right. We never bothered to remember him, uhm— What’s his name again? Perhaps ‘buffoon’ works..."

But I know his name, it's Stoppable! Ron Stoppable! Drakken protested back in his mind. But the more he tried to force the name out, the more gulps of sticky, suffocating tar gushed into his throat.

“Look at you. You’ve got all the power in the world, and still you are weak.”

Drakken could see his mirror image hovering, staring right at him now mere centimeters above his own face. Finally he dared to look at the figure’s features.

His face was sharp and slightly sunken in, his ears seemed pointier than his own, and bloodshot eyes were fixed on his, observing him like a predator watching its prey die.

“I gave you this power! This is all you’ve ever wanted and yet you are not satisfied?”

“I never wanted—”

“LIAR!”

The roaring of the doppelganger’s voice sounded like thunder shaking the earth. The tar pit morphed into a maelstrom, trying to drag Drakken down with violent waves.

“The way to the top is paved with blood. You and I both knew that from the very start.”

“That’s… That’s not what I—”

“You pushed Shego to put her life at risk countless times, just to steal something you could’ve easily made yourself.”

“But I—”

“You were enjoying commanding her. She’s nothing but a powerful tool to you. Why else would you put a neuro-compliance chip on her? What else were you thinking of making her do?”

“NO, I’D NEVER—!”

“Never what, Drew?” his voice spat out his name like venom. “Must I remind you that you let a child drown? You just walked away as she was panicking, gasping for air in that freezing water. You don’t have any regard for others in the slightest, so what makes you think that you’re ‘holier than thou’?”

Drakken felt his body becoming numb as the tar further condensed into a heavy emulsion, the power of the waves and the thickness of the ooze forcing his body to give up.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” he sobbed with the last of his strength.

“You’re not sorry,” Ron finally spoke up. “You’re saying this because you hope that someone will somehow save you. But no one will, Drakken. You’ve got no one but yourself to blame.” Drakken watched in horror as his doppelganger joined him in the pit, burying his finger-like claws against his face, forcing Drakken’s jaws open as he began pulling him deep underneath the surface of the suffocating darkness. His final sight was the apathetic face of the boy as he felt his last desperate breaths escape from his lungs...

Drakken's eyes shot open as he jolted upright, sucking in air against the choking sensation that still had him in its dark grasp. His eyes darted around as he took a moment to process his surroundings, noting familiarity.

The small moat was dimly glowing, illuminating the room just enough to remind him that he was in his bedroom. He felt the mattress shifting slightly as Shego turned and cuddled up to his arm, still fast asleep but thankfully…very much alive.

A wave of relief washed over Drakken as he slowly lie back down. He lifted his still trembling hand and brought it to Shego’s head, brushing his fingers through her dark locks as he watched her sleep. He felt his breaths calm as reality began to supplant the horrors. A content sigh coming from the woman next to him gave him reassurance that the nightmare was finally over. For now.

•─────────────•°•❀•°•─────────────• I hope you liked my little angsty Dr Drakken fanfiction! Massive thanks to @bcbdrums for test reading and helping me with grammar, and spelling checking, and additional suggestions to flesh it out more! ♡(◕ᗜ◕✿) This started out as an idea for a small comic to process and sort out my own nightmares (write it out of mind out so it's of sight am I right?). But then I noticed that it became a bit too big for a small comic as I added more and more things into it, oopsies. I also thought of adding parts from the show into it to keep it in universe. I honestly find the death trap in 'Hidden Talent' to be one of the most diabolical things in the show. Also a small fun note, I based Drakken's nightmare version on one of the unused concept designs for Drakken but I uh, slapped some hair on it :') I unfortunately don't have time to actually make this into a comic at this moment, so that's why I decided to just write it out and perhaps in the future I might adapt it!

23 notes · View notes

gogofordrakgo · 3 months

Photo

- Guest

(P.S. I don’t mean to cheapen your work with stuff like this, I hope it amuses you as much as it does me. Let me know what rendition of Drew you prefer, too).

I am utterly obsessed with this and hope that this time it will actually post lol! (I have tried to post this like five times someone save me).

First of all, I thought your commentary on the whole trivia scene was absolutely hysterical and totally spot on! So, no, I don’t think things like this cheapen the work. And besides, my view is that it’s fanfiction and totally just meant to be fun and enjoyed… even if the subject matter isn’t necessarily always fun. So, seriously, please have fun with it! Keep making jokes like this! I find it hilarious!

Secondly! I love how frazzled poor Drew looks. This man is running on three hours of sleep and twenty-one years of self-loathing. He looks exhausted and it’s so perfect. The bags under his eyes! The bandages! Even that smile is the smile of the most stressed out guy you’re ever going to meet! Thank you for this, it was funny when it was just in the comments but now there’s this and I have been dying for days.

12 notes · View notes

gogofordrakgo · 3 months

Text

Since Tumblr chickened out on allowing people off-site to ask questions, I have to resort to barbaric measures to do so. Please forgive me for this.

What started you on D/S drabbles and what made you stick to strictly 100 words (as is the original requirement for this format)?

How do you work with them? Start big and trim down, or small and add more?

You do them in alphabetical order. Why?

- Guest

Ooh! Well, this is fun! Sorry for the delay, Tumblr decided to hide this until just now! I started the drakgo drabbles back in... I think 2021 mostly in an attempt to get back into writing in general. (Hell yeah for antidepressants lol) I thought writing a couple of quick short stories would be helpful, and ended up writing a few drabbles for the challenge of it... And then I realized it was fun and I found them “simple” to write, so I wound up sticking with it! In fact, a number of the original drabbles still haven’t been posted as they don’t fit in with any of my current sets. I’ll find homes for them eventually, I promise! I stuck with the 100 words because I can sorta be a stickler for inconsequential rules. I imagine there are very few people besides myself who’d be upset if I went over or under on a few of them but I generally think the challenge is in getting the story conveyed within the constraints of exactly 100 words. As you said, it’s the original requirement for this format and while I will never correct someone else for calling a short story a drabble (because honestly, I know it doesn’t really matter) I couldn’t imagine myself doing this any other way. Now, this question I feel like kind of a jerk answering... I sort of just... write them. I don’t know, so long as I have an idea to work with I can usually get an entire drabble written in a matter of minutes. That’s not to say I never end up going over or under the word count! Certainly, I have spent plenty of time reworking certain drabbles to reach 100 words exactly! I’ve also had a few drabbles, I admit not many, that I’ve rewritten several times just on the principle of not liking the way they turned out. “Wrestle” for example took me an entire day to write, as I couldn’t decide what route exactly I wanted to take, or how best to convey the positioning in the scene. But... Yeah, in general, most of them come pretty naturally to me. I would like to make it clear here that I have been writing for well over a decade and did in fact study writing in college. The fact that this comes easily to me now is not me trying to look down on or discourage anyone else who might struggle with short-form storytelling or writing in general. I have done a lot of work to reach a point where I can confidently believe I am a decent, if not good writer.

The alphabetical order thing actually came from the names of my one-shots! I don’t know why I decided to stick to one-word names but I did and eventually started to think it would be funny to write a one-shot covering every letter in the alphabet. Then for a variety of reasons, I wound up somewhat leaving the fandom for a while and had a lot of trouble trying to get back into writing. So that never really happened. As things started to get a bit better, as I started writing the drabbles, I realized if I was going to post them I might as well hit that alphabet goal! And what better way to do that than to do it in... reverse alphabetic older?

But that was how I ended up using obscure words as my first set of drabbles. After that, it just sort of became part of it, which I admit is a little unfortunate because while I have this current set almost completed and the next two sets named... It’s starting to get really difficult to come up with categories that I could hit all 26 letters in! I may just decide to start posting them as I write them later on, but frankly, I enjoy my personal alphabetical rule and know I’ll have difficulty breaking it when the time comes.

Wow! Seriously, thank you for the questions! I hope I was able to answer them in a decently satisfying way! I promise the drabbles will get posted soon... I’m just... working on... something... I’m hoping to be done with it in the next few days!

2 notes · View notes