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#once again this is not new art in fact it’s very old
rayroseu · 1 month
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5th Anniversary Diasomnia Crumbs!
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OKAYY FIRST OFF THE GROOVY 😭😭✨💖💞💖💞 CROWLEY AT THE CENTER YAAAAASSS!!!! YANA TOBOSO IS VERY YASASHI NO DE FOR DRAWING HIM AS THE FOCAL POINT WUAIDYOAHKH🗣️🗣️🗣️☝🏻☝🏻✨💖💞💝🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻
Also WITH THE RAMSHACKLE GHOSTS... I was prepared that they might not be included in this groovy but they're here!! 😭💝✨ They're here and happy with all the faculty members!! I'm!!! I LOVE THIS ARTSTYLY BECAUSE IT MAKES EVERYONE LOOKS SO SOFT,,, Goodbye,,, Yuu found family group picture finally happened,,, I can die in peace 😭😭🙏🏻🙏🏻💖💝💞💝💖
ALSO Vargas trying to strike his best pose that highlights his flexed muscles brilliantly DESPITE being at the corner of the group pic is everything, PEAK CHARACTER COMPOSITION, he looks so content that hes not even aware that Trein is just so done at him, he barely even smiled lol 🤣
Faculty teachers are so silly this is everything I've ever wanted 😭💝💖💖💝💖💝
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I'd like to remind that in 4th Anniversary, the feast happened as per Crowley's curtesy 🥺 The fact that the catering of the party is focused on meat and Grim is waving a barbecue is a nod to that 😭🙏🏻✨
Also love how Crowleywas in charge of the 4th Anniversary because the 4th year is the last year you'll get while studying in NRC!! So it feels like he's sending us off to an unknown realm or whatever because we're out of candidates to guess who'll be the groovy for 5th Anniversary XD (plspslpslsmeleanoranddawnandbaulcmoncomnonnnkahs)
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Not these bunch having a group pic again halfkwhdkhsj Their poses are so in character XD Of course Vil is still flawless even at the back and Malleus has the most normal pose because he's not accustomed to cameras 🥺✨✨
Hopefully I'm wrong, but I really do hope they do an animated pv for 4th Anniversary as well and not just a call back video for the released cards... 😭😭
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EYESHADOW FLAWLESS EYELINER ON FLEEK LIP GLOSS STUNNING THAT CLASSIC SMIRK WITH FURROWED EYEBROWS THAT LOOKS LESS LIKE A SMILE AKDHKSHD He is perfection He does no wrong 😭😭💖💝💖
OKAYY NGLL i missed seeing new art of Malleus... I'm so glad he's back 😭😭 and beautiful than ever 😭🙏🏻🙏🏻
I love how they drew his lips here!! ✨✨💞💞
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I'm so excited for this to be translated actually 😭😭🙏🏻✨✨ I love more silly stuff from TWST lol
Laughing at this cover though,,, NOT EVERYONE BEING GIVEN TUNA CANS FROM GRIM,,, OMG
Are we finally having the tuna can lore and why its Grim's favourite food this year?? OMGONGDKS😭😭
theyve been highlighting that nowadays... I feel like tuna cans will never be the same once Book7 or 8 even leaks something about Grim 😭😭
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Babes wake up, new diasomnia family photo just dropped ‼️‼️😭😭😭💚💚💚
Lilia is so adorable kahdkhwd Not him holding a can upside down 😭🙏🏻💞💞💞 never stop being silly old man,,, 🥺🥺 💖💖
His :3 is my everything,,, 💞💞🙏🏻🙏🏻💝💝✨✨✨
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xamag-draws · 8 days
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BBR thoughts 2024
Since I mentioned that I finally dusted off an old project of mine and was ruminating on how I'd remake it, I thought I'd elaborate a little, now that I've solidified some concepts. For funsies
This is gonna be a bit of a long and unfocused one, but I don't share my personal thoughts here often, especially the stuff about my projects I always marinate in. And for once it's something that people have existing context for, so hey why not
So for anyone who hasn't been following me for a gajillion years, The Black Brick Road of OZ was a webcomic that I posted around 2013-2015, back when I was in highschool going on college (which is kinda crazy to think about). It was sort of a darker twist on The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, although I definitely leaned a lot more into dark humor more than anything in those first few chapters
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I don't think it's available to read anywhere anymore, and I know people have been asking me about it. So here's the full proper archive of BBR, as full as it can be with deceased Flash
I totally used it as an excuse to shamelessly and self-indulgently experiment. It had interactive pages and GIFs and was wayyy too overproduced for what I could handle or what was necessary, but I did have great fun making it while it lasted
Unfortunately, that excess and the fact that I've changed too much as a person by the time I was in college is what ultimately killed it. The direction I wanted to go in was practically unrecognizable from the original idea started back in 2011, so there were many old hold-ups that I felt ruined it
At the time I kinda wished I could start/rewrite it all over, but considering that I pretty much had the entire script done at that point, it felt like a pointless sisyphean task. So I just put it on a shelf and didn't look back for about 8 years, because I didn't know what else to do
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Now to be fair, the nature of my art has always been iterative and cyclical; when I feel like my creative juices have run dry I prefer to leave a project to marinate and move on to something else; cycle through other old things and bring in new skills and perspectives into the mix when I'm ready again. Not very productive, but it is what makes me happy to work on my OCs; I'm doomed to hit a wall with them eventually and I need some time to be able to find a new direction
So that said, I'm glad that BBR was left to marinate for that long. I don't think I was prepared, emotionally or intellectually, to tackle it again until now. The Wizard of Oz book (and the entire series of them, really) has always been near and dear to my heart, but there's a lot of context around it that I'm only unpacking now that I'm older
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I think I always inherently feel negatively about the stuff I've made in the past, like its faults always jump out to me more than the positives, especially the more time passes. I've never liked that, and I do really appreciate the kind things people have to say about BBR to this day. The fact that it still can be recognized and remembered is very sweet
When I left it, I already found it "kinda cringe", and that feeling only deepened with years. When I took my first look back at it, asking the question "how would I rewrite it now?", at first I took a very cynical approach, as in "everything would have to be torn down"
But the more I sat on it, the more I found that I still see some merit and charm in the ideas I was putting out; I just didn't know how to execute them at the time (not to pretend that I know what I'm doing now, but I certainly know more at least). Turns out a lot of my old concepts could be changed substantially with just a few small tweaks. So I'd say that's a nicer way to think about my previous work
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If you haven't seen yet, I posted a first draft of my new designs for some of the characters (the main group, the Goods and the Wickeds). Definitely subject to change, but more or less how I see them now
I'm just playing with these concepts; by no means would I attempt to remake BBR right this moment. Call it a pipe dream among my other ones. But just for fun, this is the direction I'd like to take:
Nowadays I'd probably make it a visual novel, with more emphasis on the visual part than the novel because I'm no English prose writer by any means. It'd still let me play a little with the interactivity while helping cut some corners on the drawing part (only some, I imagine I'd go hog wild anyway)
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I've always intended for some events inspired by the sequel books to take place in BBR's past. Stuff like Jinjur's revolt or Ozma's rule preceeds the main events here. So I think it would be fun to follow the past of a few key characters alongside the main story. One chapter focusing on the present quest to see the Wizard, then one focusing on the past events (that are maybe reflective thematically); rinse and repeat
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I'm also sticking a little closer to the original text in some regards. Not everything that I enjoy from the books would be translated here, it's still just a very loose fantasy on the material; but I'd like to be closer in spirit at least
I like mature, wise and powerful Glinda, I like kind and vulnerable Tin Man, I like the Wizard being a pathetic yet loveable liar, so I'm sprinkling in more of that for example
I'd like to keep some whimsy, but make it more grounded and a bit more serious to be coherent in tone. I think the original TWWOOZ book was a more realistic fantasy in some ways, even for the standards of the time; I like its simple but vivid tactile descriptions and details like bringing attention that Dorothy needed to eat and sleep
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I find it funny that Baum specifically was averse to making his books scary or unpleasant, finding that unnecessary for telling a compelling kids story, but they still can get pretty dark and disturbing, at least for our modern sensibilities. Let's just say that I intend to use the Evoldo and Chopfyt storylines for my purposes. In that way, I feel like a "darker" Wizard of Oz retelling can still mostly be tonally in line with the original and balance it with enough heart and occasional humor
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I slowly grew to appreciate the quaint old-timey quality of the original series, as well. The first book is both timeless and very much a product of the 1900s. Originally I tried to give it a little modern or at least anachronistic spin, but it was moreso because it's what I knew best, so these days I'd rather intentionally lean into the time period. Still not fully historically accurate by any means, but at least directly acknowledging the influence
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The events of the story span across 40 years of these characters' lives, so I'm drawing inspiration from the entire so-called La Belle Epoque: the time period around 1880s-1920s. Basically I'm cooking, and my soup is old Victorian fashion morphing into Edwardian fashion and slowly inching towards flappers
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Some new Dolly outfits
Lots of crazy things, political changes and innovations were happening at the turn of the century, which I think is noted and reflected by Baum in the books as well; the character of Tik-Tok might not blow any minds now, but he was one of the first robot characters in literature at that point; and don't even get me started on Jinjur, etc. Plenty of really interesting stuff one could lightly ponder in an Oz adaptation these days
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Aesthetically, art nouveau has always been a big artistic influence for me, and it'd definitely be its time to shine here. John R. Neill's illustrations of the Oz books often keep me company as well. Nouveau architecture in particular fits that fairytale whimsy extremely well imo
I'd allow myself a little bit of art deco here and there, but ultimately its intimidating geometrical splendor is an antithetical to the flowery nature of nouveau and I associate it with a completely different era. Definitely fitting some characters like my Wicked Witch of the West, but shouldn't be overused
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One of my main problems with the original BBR was that eventually I lost track of what it was even about; and the original ending felt too mean and unfulfilling to be worth it. Now I'd like to stick to the theme of home and family as my main theme, but in a different, more bittersweet way than in the book
An interesting connection I made is that a lot of my aforementioned older key characters (the Witches, Jinjur, the Nome King, etc) all came from the same reformatory as kids, that's how they know each other. In my recent research I learned that in those reformatories it was usually frowned upon to release the children back to the families, which were seen as the original corrupting influence regardless of the circumstance. The reformatory did everything in its power to cut that connection and make itself the only family those wayward kids were supposed to know and love. That's an unexpected tie into the theme of home that I'd like to explore as well
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So yeah that's the current state of it. I have a bunch of outfit concepts I'm slowly cooking, although I'm now sure whether I'd post them... But I do miss these funny guys, and I'm glad some people still do as well :)
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Your stories and images are beyond incredible. My favorite blog on tumblr BY FAR. Truly incredible work. I guess it’s kind of selfish, so absolutely so absolutely no worries, at the very least I got to tell you how much I appreciate and love your content. But I’m a short, nerdy, thin, art student in college right now. I’m tired of being in the closet, I’m tired of being a push over, Im tired of being weak and submissive, I’m tired of being a virgin, and I wanna change. Maybe you could help with a story by turning me into one of those jaw dropping beautiful confident men that you make the pictures of, I would very much appreciate it. But no worries if you can’t, I just love your content!
Confidence
Nathaniel sighed quietly, as he came over his hairless stomach. Of course, he had to be quiet! The dorm walls were paper-thin, and he certainly didn't want the guys from the neighboring dorm rooms to hear him. He looked at the website once more, with the story and the hot buff men before he closed the incognito browser tab and proceeded to clean himself up.
When he looked into the bathroom mirror, he sighed again, but this time, it was a sigh of sadness. There really wasn't anything remotely impressive about him. He was thin and weak, and pathetic really. If it wasn't for his lack of boobs and his sorry excuse for a dick, he could very well pass as a woman. In fact, he had been mistakenly called "Madame" more than once, and one time, he had even been asked "how his transition was going".
No, Nathan was a cis man, just not a very impressive one. He was gay, of course, and loved to look at 'real' men while jerking his small cock. Most of the time, he fantasized about some hairy brute rough-handling him, pushing his face against the bed and fucking his tiny ass into submission. However, even though the thought was exciting to Nathan, he even more wished to *be* such a man. The rational part of Nathan knew that both fantasies would not happen anytime, though. It was physically impossible to just *become* a 'real man', and it was impossible for Nathan to even admit to anyone that he was gay. So, he would probably just stay a closeted virgin forever - doomed to masturbate to some kinky stories he was so embarrassed about that he only dared to look at them from an incognito browser tab.
He sighed a third time when he crawled into bed. Perhaps someday he would accept his fate.
Nathan was already almost asleep when he heard the firework starting outside. Right. It was New Year’s Eve. What a way to start the new year.
The next morning, Nathan was feeling a bit better. Of course, his deep-rooted unhappiness still lingered within him, but Nathan decided to try and enjoy the day. He liked new year’s days. Everyone usually was at home after having celebrated the whole night which meant that the world outside was very quiet. Not much happened on New Year’s Day.
Nathan decided to go to a nearby cafe. There, with a steaming mug of hot chocolate next to him, he got out his drawing utensils and looked around the place. There weren't too many people. An older couple sat together, the man reading a book, and the woman reading a magazine, while an elderly lady sat at the counter. She was probably the owner. However, there was one more guy, a young adult like Nathan, who sat on a nearby table all by himself and was playing on his phone. He had his chair tilted back a bit, stabilizing himself against the wall and rocking a bit. He had earphones in his ear, so he was probably listening to music while doing so.
Nathan's first instinct was to draw the old couple, but then he looked at the other young man again. He looked a bit like one of those men from the internet, the kind that Nathan would fantasize about. Just a bit. The other man wasn't burly and muscular and assertive, but instead he had a lean, fit build. Nathan was a bad judge of character, especially without having spoken to the person in question, but the young man didn't look particularly assertive or dominant either. So, all in all, not too much like the men Nathan longed for on the internet. But still, he had a certain charm to him. Nathan liked the fit, lean body and the aura of positivity the man seemed to exude and wanted to capture that on paper.
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Nathan began sketching the man, while occasionally looking up, making sure the man wouldn't notice. However, it was hard to keep his eyes off the guy. Every now and then, he would laugh a bit or make a funny face when watching something on his phone, which Nathan couldn't help but find very attractive.
He was just working on drawing the man's hands, when Nathan suddenly heard someone address him.
"Hey, what are you drawing?" The voice didn't sound rude or unfriendly, but plainly interested. Still, Nathan flinched visibly. The attractive man on the other table had removed one earplug and turned towards Nathan.
"Uh, sorry?" stuttered Nathan, not quite sure how to react. The guy pointed at Nathan's drawing pad and smiled: "You're an artist?"
Nathan could feel the blood rushing to his face. The drawing pad was tilted towards Nathan, so his unvoluntary model could not have seen what exactly Nathan was drawing. He could - no, he should - just lie and tell him he was sketching something in the room. But he just couldn't think of anything and the time for a good answer was running out. Almost involuntarily, Nathan stuttered, with his head red like a tomato: "Uhm, yeah, kind of. I was sketching you, actually."
The guy laughed a short and friendly laugh: "Really? Cool! Can I see it?"
Nathan could feel his heartbeat quicken, and his face got even redder. This was so embarrassing! But he couldn't very well refuse now, could he? So, he placed the pad flat on the table, just as the guy came over and sat himself down on Nathan's table.
"Oh wow!", he sounded impressed. "You're really talented! It's like looking into a mirror."
"Thanks" - Nathan hated getting compliments. Not only didn't he know how to react to them, but he also found them mostly fake. He was an art student, but he wasn't that good really, at least in his own opinion. In the dictionary, there was probably a picture of Nathan right next to the entry for "Imposter Syndrome".
"But why are you drawing me?" Although Nathan had feared that this question might come up, he didn't have a good lie to answer it. It was almost as if his mouth was acting on its own, when Nathan heard himself stammer: "Uh, eh, it's because I... I find you quite handsome actually. Good-looking I mean."
Nathan wished for nothing more than to be swallowed by the earth here and now. But to his big surprise, the guy just laughed again and said: "You think so? Thanks! The name's Oliver by the way." Oliver had, apparently, much less of a problem taking a compliment.
"Nathan." said Nathan and started to relax a tiny bit. However, the situation suddenly got even worse, when Oliver continued, in the same light-hearted voice. "Nice to meet you, Nathan! Are you into guys?"
Nathan froze solid. He hadn't expected that. And even worse, the answer was, of course, yes. But there was no way he could say that, was there? So, instead, he just stared at Oliver with his eyes wide open and a deer-in-headlights look.
"I mean, I'm gay - are you as well?" Oliver explained. "With the whole drawing dudes and all."
Nathan's brain had stopped working properly, so he couldn't help but nod and mumble a faint "yes".
Oliver's smile broadened and he said: "Really? Cool!"
Nathan's mind was racing. He had just admitted his homosexuality. To a complete stranger. Out of the blue. He didn't plan to come out that way, it just... happened.
A moment of awkward silence radiated from Nathan, but, thankfully, Oliver salvaged the situation pretty elegantly.
"Listen Nathan, I'll have to run now. But are you free tomorrow around 2? We could grab a coffee and you could show me some of your drawings if you like."
A spark of bravery, completely foreign to him, awakened in Nathan and he answered: "Y-yes. I think I would like that."
Oliver smiled another of his broad smiles. "Awesome! Let's meet here then tomorrow!"
With that, Oliver nodded at Nathan and left the cafe, putting in his headphone again while humming happily.
Did that really just happen? Nathan looked from the unfinished drawing towards the cafe door. Did he really just... got invited to a date? With a handsome guy named Oliver? Nathan wasn't sure whether to be happy or not. On the one hand, it was a miracle, a once in a lifetime opportunity. A cute and hot guy was actually interested in him! But on the other hand, there was no way he could make a good impression. How desperate had that Oliver guy to be to actually ask *him* out?
A small voice in his head insisted that he could just not show up tomorrow and avoid the whole disappointment. But the spark of bravery was still there, and Nathan fought down the feeling. No, he was going to show. If it turned out to be a disaster, he could still flee the scene - it wasn't like Oliver knew literally anything about him.
Nathan quickly packed his things and returned to his dorm room. Once he arrived, he noticed that he was completely covered in sweat of fear. His shirt showed wet spots under his arms and felt cold to the touch. Disgusted, Nathan immediately went for a shower. Only there, standing under the hot steamy water, Nathan could appreciate what happened. He got *asked out*. On a *date*. With a *guy*. Yesterday he had been certain he would die alone and lonely but then, today, he got *asked out*. Was this really a thing? Did it really happen?
He wasn't sure. He had a hard time believing it. Perhaps the whole thing was just a weird dream? A figment of his imagination. But no. The half-finished drawing was proof enough that Oliver really existed.
When Nathan exited the shower cabin, the whole bathroom was covered in steam, blinding the mirrors. Perhaps this - or the spinning of his thoughts - was the reason that he didn't notice that his hair had changed. Instead of his usual medium length brown-ish hair, he now sported a much shorter hairstyle - in a much darker color, almost black. Be it as it may - Nathan had other things on mind than checking his hair. He spent the whole afternoon and even the evening researching on how to make a good impression on a first date.
The next morning, Nathan slept in, which was pretty unusual for him. His whole frame felt weird, when he crawled out of bed. It wasn't too late, either - he had a comfortable 3 hours until the date. When he passed the bathroom mirror on his morning routine, however, he stopped for a moment. Something was... off about his face. His hair. It looked kind of... different?
Nathan stared at his reflection for a few seconds, straining his mind. Somehow, the shape of his jawbone seemed unfamiliar. And was his hair always that dark, almost black?
Finally, he shook his head. No, he was just seeing things. Of course, that was as it always had been. After having finished his bathroom business, Nathan went for a shower and prepared himself.
An hour later, he stood in front of the mirror, trying out a bunch of outfits and felt slight panic rising inside of him. None of his clothes fit very well, it was like he was cursed! It wasn't that his shirts and pants were much too big or much too small, but for some reason none of his clothes really felt comfortable. Both his favorite shirt and his usual jeans felt somewhat constricting today. Finally, Nathan just put on an outfit, and left his room.
When he entered the cafe, Oliver was already sitting there, two coffee mugs in front of him. He smiled, waved and gestured for Nathan to join him.
"Hello, Nathan!"
"H-hi." said Nathan, his nervousness returning.
"Here, I bought you a coffee!" Oliver pushed one of the mugs over the table.
"Thanks." Nathan was somewhat distracted by the ill-fitting clothes, and he could pretty much feel the nervous sweat practically pouring out of his pores.
"No problem!", said Oliver. "I was early, anyway. How are you doing today?"
"Fine." said Nathan and took a sip of his coffee, trying to hide his nervousness. He vividly remembered all the good advice he had read yesterday, but all that felt just impossible to him.
"So, you're an artist? What do you do?" Oliver asked with genuine interest.
"Well, I study art, I guess. I want to be a concept artist, you know, for games or movies or so. But, eh, right now, I'm just a student, and I'm not really that good."
"That's not how I remember it!" smiled Oliver. "Can you show me more of your work?"
Nathan nodded as he got out his sketchbook. Talking about his art was something he was comfortable with and allowed him to warm up somewhat over the course of the conversation. Oliver appeared to be quite a nice guy and had a lot of questions about drawing, so, Nathan, in turn, started to relax and talk more freely. He found out that Oliver was a veterinary technician and had a part time job at a dog shelter. That, combined with the fact that he was, in general, a really nice and positive guy, made him incredibly appealing to Nathan.
After the two had talked for a while, Oliver suddenly remarked: "You know, I really like your stubble! It really suits you!"
Stubble? What was he talking about? Nathan rarely needed to shave, but he had done so this morning, so, it was absolutely impossible that he should have visible facial hair. And yet, as he felt his chin, his fingers met with bristly short hair, so dense and long that there was no way he could have missed it this morning. Nathan found it strange, to say the least, but didn't want to make a scene in this situation. His spark of courage was a small candle flame now, as he just smiled while he felt his chin and said "Thank you!"
The two continued to chat a bit. While doing so, Nathan tried not to think too much about the fact that his clothes were, somehow, tighter than before.
Finally, Oliver's phone buzzed, and he looked at the screen.
"Damn, it's that late already?"
"What is it?", asked Nathan.
"Oh, the dog shelter. I have a shift soon, I need to go!"
Nathan sighed inwardly. He was really enjoying the date and didn't want it to end. He was pulled out of his thoughts by the feeling of Olivers hand on his. It felt... good. Good and strange, like the texture of his own hand was somewhat wrong, somewhat rougher than before. When he looked up into Oliver's eyes, he found the other man smiling.
"I really enjoyed this. You are a wonderful person, Nathan. We should do this again."
Nathan nodded. He didn't trust his voice right now.
"How about... tomorrow?", Oliver continued. "There's an art exhibition in town, perhaps you would like to go there with me?"
Nathan's heart jumped a beat. He didn't have time or courage yet to go to the exhibition and the prospect of seeing Oliver again so soon was wonderful.
"I would very much like that", Nathan replied and smiled.
"Great! Let's meet there, say at 5?"
"Sure!"
Oliver smiled his beautiful, broad smile, and stood up, leaving some money for the coffees on the table. Nathan too got up, but before he could leave, Oliver stopped him with a warm expression in his eyes. "You know, I really think I like you a lot." He said, and his hand touched Nathan's somewhat bristly cheek. Almost automatically, both of their faces drew closer to each other, until their lips met with the slightest touch. It was a chaste, short kiss, but Nathan could feel Oliver's lips smile when they broke apart.
"See you tomorrow!", said Oliver and left the cafe.
Nathan's knees felt weak, and his heart was beating rapidly. There were a thousand feeling, all happening inside him at once and Nathan needed a moment to sort through them before he was able to move again. There was a part of him that couldn't quite believe what just happened, but the biggest part was just euphoric. He basically jogged back to his home, full of a never experienced energy.
When he arrived in his room, his body was feeling even weirder than before. All of his clothes were way too tight. It was not just that he felt constricted, no, the clothes actually were much too small. He quickly got rid of them, noticing that, again, he had sweated like a pig. As Nathan glanced down on himself, he could almost see that his body was somehow different. Fitter, healthier. It was probably just his imagination, though, caused by his ecstatic mood. He briefly considered taking another shower but postponed it to tomorrow. There would be plenty of time and Nathan felt really glad and tired for today.
Nathan woke up from two different feelings the next morning. First, he felt itchy and sweaty all over his body and was subconsciously scratching himself in his sleep. Second, and perhaps even more importantly, Nathan was experiencing a severe case of morning wood. His manhood was rigid and pulsating under his sheets and was begging for attention. Nathan had a hard time remembering when he last experienced such an urgent urge to jerk off. He wasn't sure, but the memories of their kissing yesterday came to his mind as soon as he woke up, so, he couldn't resist closing his hand around his hard cock and started pumping. His hand felt rough and big, and Nathan couldn't be sure, but both length and girth of his tool seemed increased, too. However, Nathan could hardly concentrate on that due to the waves of pleasure washing over him.
It didn't take very long for Nathan to shoot a big load onto his stomach, with a moan. It was a big and sticky load, too, mixing with the little dark hairs on his stomach and chest. Nathan blinked in post-nut clarity. Hairs? He didn't have body hair.
Nathan got up quickly and went to the bathroom. Something about his perspective was off, too. It was like the ceiling was closer than it was supposed to be, and the ground further away. Once Nathan had used some toilet paper to wipe away most of the cum, he took a look at himself in the mirror. There was no denying that he looked different. He was definitely somewhat taller and broader than before. He didn't have a scale, but he was sure that he had gained quite some weight as well - not only due to the increased height and broader shoulders but also because his previous stickman-like appearance had been altered quite somewhat. All over his frame, a lean definition was visible, hinting at muscles even. His chin was covered in visible stubble and there was a bit of body hair visible, mainly on his chest and stomach as well as peeking out under his armpit.
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Speaking of which, as Nathan raised his arm to look at his pits, a certain smell reached his nose. A musky, manly, slightly sweaty odor that wasn't quite unpleasant but was certainly unfamiliar.
Nathan had a hard time wrapping his mind around what he was seeing. There was no denying he looked *good*. He just didn't look exactly like *himself*. And for some reason, this didn't bother Nathan quite as much as it probably should. He should be panicking or calling a doctor. People didn't just grow taller overnight or put on definition without working out. And yet, Nathan only felt a slight bit of curiosity and a weak impulse that he probably *should* work out then.
Nathan shook his head and went back to his bedroom. He didn't bother putting on clothing and tried to pass the time until afternoon. The only thing that he *really* regretted about his sudden changes was that his favorite shirt and jeans would definitely not fit anymore.
He ended up watching a bit of TV and browsing the internet, before he decided it was time to prepare himself. Finding clothes that would fit now proved to be quite a challenge, but in the end, he settled on a plain t-shirt and some cargo pants. He had bought both of them a number too big by mistake, which came in quite handy now.
Walking through the city was a strange experience. He felt good about himself and held his head high. Combined with the fact that Nathan's head was, indeed, higher than before, it was like seeing the city in a whole new perspective. Less looking at the ground and more looking straight ahead.
His new posture seemed to have another effect, too. Where before he had to avoid people, trying not to get in their way, now they seemed to be stepping aside for him, which was a foreign but not unpleasant experience.
Finally, he arrived at the exhibition and found Oliver already waiting for him. They greeted with a hug and a short kiss, both fully reciprocated by Nathan, and went inside. Although Oliver seemed to notice something was off about Nathan, he didn't mention it and apparently forgot about it quickly.
Today, Nathan found it much easier to talk to Oliver and brought up topics by himself.
The exhibition however was kind of a let-down for Nathan. Although he could judge on a rational level that the art presented here was really well-done and interesting, on a purely emotional level, Nathan found it mind-numbingly boring. The conversation steered away from the art quickly, and more towards personal matters, which was a relief. So, even though they didn't care much about the paintings around them, the two of them ended up wandering around the exhibition for hours, talking and having a good time.
During the date, however, Nathan was quickly experiencing an unfamiliar feeling. The company of Oliver was... exciting. Exciting on a sexual, primal level. Nathan's larger manhood grew semi-hard in his underwear quickly, so Nathan had to readjust himself more than once. At first, he was very self-conscious about it and tried to be as subtle as possible. However, with every push his cock needed in order not to be too obvious, Nathan actually cared less about who saw him readjust himself. He was a guy after all, and all big-dicked men had that particular problem from time to time.
Besides forming a bulge in his groin, however, his constantly semi-hard cock did one more thing: Nathan was leaking precum in his underwear. First, it was just a drop or two on an involuntary throb, but it quickly became more. His underwear was feeling damp before long, and a faint note of sexuality mixed into his still present smell.
After a while, Oliver even commented on it, in his usual upbeat way: "Hey, Nathan, I have to say, you smell pretty good. Are you using cologne?"
Nathan hadn't noticed his own smell too much. His first impulse was to apologize, but the burning campfire of courage inside of him quickly told him otherwise. Oliver didn't complain. In fact, he liked it.
So, Nathan answered with a grin: "Nope. That's just how I smell."
Oliver took another whiff of the mixture of sweat, dried cum and precum and smiled. "Well, I like it!"
Nathan wasn't quite sure how to react, and just said: "Thanks!"
The exhibition was closing down soon, and Nathan offered Oliver to accompany him to the train station, which he gladly accepted. When they parted, they kissed again. This time, it wasn't a small, timid kiss like before, but a long, sexual one that made Nathan's dick twitch like mad in the confines of his pants. Since their bodies were pressed closely together, Nathan could be sure that Oliver felt the movement against his own groin.
Only after they broke the kiss, Nathan noticed that he was now looking down on Oliver slightly. He could have sworn that Oliver had been slightly taller than him yesterday.
There was no telling on how the evening would have continued hadn't it been for Oliver's train to arrive just then. Before Oliver could board the train, however, Nathan grinned at him and said: "Dinner tomorrow? The Italian place downtown, at 6?"
"I would love that!"
They kissed again and Nathan watched as the train pulled out. Then, he went back to his dorm, whistling a happy tune. It didn't even occur to him that he had taken the initiative in asking Oliver out for a third date. The fire of confidence was burning bright inside of him.
When he came home, Nathan immediately stripped out of his clothes. Even the larger shirt had become somewhat tight. He took a short look at it. There was a wet patch under both arms from his constant sweating, and the t-shirt had adapted his smell. There was something else in the smell, though. At the chest region, there was a medium sized stain, machine oil from the smell of it. Nathan wondered briefly how he could have missed it this morning but then diverted his attention to more pressing matters. His cock was fully hard and was poking out from the waistband of his briefs. Nathan hadn't had an erection like that since puberty and, if he was honest with himself, the feeling was rather nice. Without hesitation, he closed his hand around his hard meat and gave it a few experimental pumps. A low growl escaped his mouth, and a shiver went through his body. He didn't want to go slow, he wanted to fuck. His mind was focused on the task at hand. He didn't even bother to close his curtains, as he went for it. Nathan was jacking himself off, fast and hard, growling and groaning, until he finally exploded all over his chest and face, shooting multiple loads of thick white cum everywhere.
As Nathan was catching his breath, the smell of cum was heavy in the room. God, he needed that. Ever since he met Oliver today. He wiped his face and chest with his discarded t-shirt and briefly considered if he wanted to take a shower. The smell emanating from him was rather strong now, but still, he didn't want to. Oliver seemed to like his body odor, and, if Nathan was being honest, he did so himself, too.
Nathan was woken by his alarm the next morning. As his mind came to focus, his hand reached for the smartphone automatically and dismissed the alarm. He yawned and stretched. He was really looking forward to today. Given, it was the last day before classes started again, but he was going to a third date with Oliver this evening!
When Nathan crawled out of bed and went for his bathroom, however, his body felt weird again. The muscles had become more defined over the course of the last two days and now, the whole body structure felt *strong*. The few hairs from before had become a small forest of body hair and the stubble had grown thicker. He still didn't feel the need for a shave, though.
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Nathan wasn't quite sure about the whole situation. Of course, he was enjoying the change. On the other hand, ... No, fuck the other hand. This was great, plain and simple. He finished his morning business standing up while peeing, which he usually never did. But right now, it just felt *right*.
After that, he inspected his wardrobe. He had half-feared that he would need to go and buy new clothes, but apparently, overnight his wardrobe had changed as well. It was filled with sturdy cargos or work pants as well as simple shirts and the occasional overall. Good!
His underwear choice had also changed. Instead of briefs or boxers, the drawer was now filled with jockstraps. That made sense, of course - only a jockstrap would set his large dick in the right scene.
None of the clothes qualified as "clean". Sure, they had been washed before they went into the wardrobe, but permanent grease or oil stains had permeated the fabric just as Nathan's manly stink - both marks no washing machine could ever erase entirely.
Nathan grabbed one of the pants and smelled it. He couldn't help but smile. This was his smell. This was *his* smell. His manly, sweaty, dirty, horny smell. He even felt his ever-present dick twitch a bit at the smell. Nathan wasn't sure if he would ever get used to this new reality. Or if this even was the final reality.
The hours passed quickly. Nathan was keeping himself busy, playing games or listened to music. Not once did it occur to him to draw something or even look at his art. This new him wasn't particularly creative, it seemed.
Nathan's mind wandered back to the date this evening. He couldn't wait to see Oliver again. In fact, he couldn't wait for more than that. It was a third date and Nathan wanted to go all the way with Oliver. He wanted to take his ass and fuck it into oblivion.
At around 5 pm, Nathan stood in front of the Italian place, waiting for Oliver. When Oliver finally arrived, the two men greeted each other with a passionate kiss. Nathan could tell that the kiss was having an effect on Oliver, as his breathing was quicker than usual.
They went inside and sat down on a table. Almost automatically, Nathan's legs spread wide, taking up space, establishing presence and, most importantly, giving his equipment the necessary space. The *old* Nathan would have sat with his legs closed or even crossed, in order to not draw any attention to himself. However, the new Nathan didn't want to draw *less* attention.
The two chatted a bit, with the main topic of the conversation being the menu, before ordering. When he spoke, Nathan noted that his voice had dropped an octave, making his voice gravely and his laugh a low rumble. When Oliver had chosen, Nathan summoned the waiter and ordered for the both of them, his lower voice full of confidence. For Nathan, it was a large meat pizza and a beer.
"You know, I have never seen you drink before", remarked Oliver.
"I don't usually", replied Nathan. "But I thought I'd have a beer today."
"You're not driving, are you?"
"Na, I'm here on foot."
Oliver smiled his usual smile. "I'm here by car, so if you like, I can give you a ride home afterwards."
There seemed to be some subtext to this offer, but it went over Nathan's head. Not that it was necessary, because he had the exact same plans, anyway.
"Sounds great!"
A couple of minutes later, their pizzas arrived, and the two dug in.
"I really like your style, Nathan." said Oliver after a while.
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know, the way you dress. The way you talk. The way you act."
"Oh. Thanks."
Nathan thought for a moment before he added: "You know, I go by Nate these days."
"Nate, eh?", smiled Oliver.
"Yeah. Fits better, you know."
"I guess so. I like it a lot!"
"I like your style, too."
"What do you mean by that?", Oliver laughed.
"Just, the way you talk, the way you walk. Everything. You're cute, you know."
"Why, thank you!"
The conversation was definitely a lot more flirtatious than yesterday. When they had finished their meals, they didn't linger much longer in the restaurant but got into Oliver's car.
Nate proceeded to give Oliver directions to his home. However, at a certain crossing, he had to stop and think for a moment. He knew for a fact that his dorm was to the left. But he also knew for a fact that his *home* was to the right. Nate decided not to overthink it and directed Oliver to the right with a firm voice.
They didn't get very far from that point, when suddenly, the car stopped with a jerk.
"Damn, sorry!" said Oliver. "The engine is acting up again. It's probably too cold or something like that. I'll just try to start it up again."
When after the third try, the engine didn't start again, Nate laid a hand on Oliver's. "Let me try." he said with a confident voice and left the car. When he opened the hood, the problem became clear to him right away.
"The carburetor is a bit clogged, I'll unclog it real quick and we're ready to go."
While Oliver was staring at Nate in surprise, as the latter quickly and with trained skill removed a few parts and then, with a flex of his mighty arms, applied percussive maintenance to the part in question. After Nate had reassembled the engine, he cleaned his hands on his pants and got into the car again, filling out the passenger seat with his presence.
"It should work again for now, but I'll have to clean it thoroughly tomorrow. The thing is just old and worn down, it needs replacing soon. Just try starting the engine."
Oliver was still staring at Nate with a disbelieving look on his face. Finally, however, he tried starting the engine again, and the car did indeed start running smoothly.
"Wow, Nate, that was amazing! Where did you learn that?"
"What do you mean", grinned Nate. "That's what I do!"
Oliver stared at him for a moment. "Wait, you're a mechanic?"
"Yeah, sure, didn't I tell you when we met?"
Oliver seemed to think about it but then slowly nodded: "Yes, I... think so. Weird. I could have sworn..."
Nate shrugged and pointed down the road: "Shall we go?"
They arrived at Nate's place shortly after. He had a cheap apartment directly over the car garage where he worked. Nate did try to clean up a bit the afternoon, but the place still screamed "Manly bachelor" all over the place with the occasional beer can or jockstrap scattered around.
Neither of them had time to care, though. As soon as the door closed, the two kissed. It wasn't just a chaste, romantic kiss. This was a heated, passionate kiss, full of desire and lust. Nate took Oliver's body and pushed him against the wall, grinding their bodies together. Both were hard and their breathing was rapid. Nate's hands wandered up and down Oliver's body, squeezing and grabbing his body. His fingers were strong and forceful, and he squeezed the smaller man's buttocks and his dick with the same intensity. Oliver responded by moaning and pushing his groin against Nate's, humping him.
Suddenly, Nate broke the kiss. "Oliver, I... I want you. I want to fuck you."
Oliver didn't answer, but kissed Nate again, harder this time. Nate's tongue invaded his mouth, and the bigger man's hands were ripping Oliver's shirt and pants off him. Once Oliver's dick was free, it was enveloped by Nate's big calloused hand, and Oliver's breath hitched in his throat.
"Oh god, Nate, yes!" he moaned.
Nate had enough of foreplay, and he wanted to fuck, now. Without wasting any time, he quickly pushed his pants down and pressed his dick against Oliver's. It was massive, even compared to Oliver's not insignificant size. While Nate's balls were big and heavy, his cock was thick, long, and veiny, with a fat mushroom head. It was also rock hard, and the head was already drooling precum.
With one hand, Nate stroked the two cocks together, rubbing them and smearing the precum all over his dick and Oliver's. With the other hand, he pulled Oliver close and kissed him again, a long, sensual, passionate kiss, which made Oliver moan into his mouth.
The two stood like that for a while, but finally, Nate's need to fuck was stronger than anything else.
"Bedroom. Now!" he growled and dragged the smaller man with him. Once there, Nate simply tossed him onto the bed and followed quickly, his cock pointing up. He positioned himself on top of the other man and kissed him again, their tongues dancing in their mouths.
When the kiss broke, Oliver was panting.
"You really are a big boy, huh?"
"Damn right I am."
"Oh god, I need your big dick inside of me!"
"Yeah? You want me to fuck you?"
"Please! I've wanted to feel your huge meat in me for days."
"Fuck yeah. You're gonna get it."
Nate reached under his bed and produced a bottle of lube, which he applied liberally to his dick.
"You're ready?"
"Do it, big guy."
Nate placed the head of his massive cock against the tight pucker and started to push. Slowly but steadily, his dick invaded Oliver's ass.
"Oooooooooh god, Nate, yesssssss!" moaned Oliver.
The pressure around Nate's dick was unbelievable. Oliver was clearly tight, and the way his asshole was massaging his dick felt heavenly.
Finally, Nate's dick was balls-deep inside Oliver. Both were breathing heavily, and Oliver was moaning incoherently. Nate gave him a moment to adjust and then started moving his hips, first slowly, but increasing his pace quickly. Soon, he was slamming into Oliver's ass as hard as he could, pulling almost completely out and then thrusting back inside the smaller man.
"Fuck yeah! You like that? You like my huge dick pounding your tight little ass?"
"God, yes, Nate, fuck me, fuck meeee!"
Nate was groaning and growling, a sound that came deep from his chest and made Oliver moan even louder.
"Oh shit, Nate, I'm so close! Don't stop, please don't stop, don't st- ooooooooh gooooooood!"
Nate felt Oliver's muscles clamp down on his dick, and that sent him over the edge. He buried his dick as deep as he could and shot a big load of cum deep into Oliver's guts.
The two of them collapsed on each other, spent but happy.
A lot had changed for Nathan in this new year. He had gotten a new body, a new job, a new identity even. But most importantly, he had found love. Nate the manly mechanic sighed. If he were to describe his feelings, looking into the future, there was only one fitting word: Confidence.
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I actually generated a ton (okay, 50) of images for this story. If you want to check out the alternate versions of the different stages of Nathan/Nate, check out my tip jar, where I posted them!
459 notes · View notes
bonny-kookoo · 3 months
Text
Jungkook
Princess | Short #1
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There's something happening between you two.
Tags/Warnings: Wolfdog Hybrid!Jungkook, Showdog Hybrid!Reader, Enemies to lovers, Angst, Fluff?, Brat!Reader, Jungkook has major brat tamer energy, reader has some issues
Length: 1.6k words
A/N: I will force feed you this AU and you will like it 👿
There is no taglist for this fic.
-> Masterlist
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Despite Jungkook having agreed to help you, he still continues to work on that choreography the same way as before, ruthlessly pushing you further and further despite your very much constant complains.  
Apparently, according to him, it’s not about the whole contest anymore. But instead, to teach you ‘something’. What it is, he won’t say- but you’re sure that’s all just an excuse anyways to torture you.  
But you’re not going down so easily.  
“How many times do I need to tell you that you have your own snacks?!” Jungkook complains, showing the empty bag of crackers to you, at the sight of which you simply sit in the middle of the practice room, tail happily wagging as if you don’t even know what he’s talking about. “And I’m sure you drank my water too.” He accuses, and you just shrug.  
“Maybe.” You answer. “The crackers sucked though. Way too bland. Do you always just eat old people snacks?” You question, irritating him further. It’s clear that you’re testing your boundaries with him, and most of all his patience- because lets be real, its funny as hell to make him angry. Mostly because you know he’d never actually get too upset with you- if he was to ever do so, you’re sure he’d give you a fair warning way before that line has actually been stepped over.  
Though, clearly, you’ve not really realized yet that you two have actually become closer up until this point- and that also means that Jungkook no longer tries to stay as far away as he can from you.  
So when he returns to the practice room with new snacks of his own and a bottle of sweet electrolyte juice, you’re already up on your feet, happily looking what he’s got himself- before he suddenly takes off his hoodie, catching you entirely off guard and freezing you in place for a good second, because wow. 
He’s got an extensive collection of art beneath the skin of one of his arms up to his hand even, and his physique is definitely also not to be played around with. Years of serious dancing and working out have clearly created the man he is today-  
And suddenly, your world is dark for a good second, as he pushes his hoodie over your head.  
You’re confused, when he suddenly pulls on the sleeves your arms are not yet pulled through, as he instead ties them behind your back, successfully immobilizing you. He picks you up and sits you in one of the chairs after he's done, leaning in close once you're seated, summoning the audacity to smirk at you.  
“Timeout, you gremlin.” He tells you, before he sits down next to you to eat his food, all while you can’t do anything but watch, wide eyed and completely confused.  
And instead of arguing, you just pull in your legs after toeing off your shoes, pouting to yourself while enjoying his scent. You’d never openly admit it, but he does smell nice- both the laundry detergent he uses for his clothes, and, well, his own scent. You blame it on the fact that throughout your career until now, you’ve barely had any close interaction with another male hybrid like this- so it’s probably just the fact that you’re not used to this.  
“Take it off.” You demand, and he shakes his head.  
“Nop.” He denies, and you swing your legs on the chair as you’ve let them fall down again.  
“I need to go pee.” You tell him, and at that he sighs, before he unravels the sleeves- 
Just for you to slip your hands through them, and steal his bottle of juice as you run into the hallway, hearing his footsteps loudly right behind you, hand having slapped against the door you’d tried to swing close behind you. You don’t get very far when he suddenly grabs the back of the sweater, pulling you closer again to try and lift you. “No- No no, I really need to go pee!” You deny, standing in front of him now after having avoided his grip.  
“Alright, let’s go then.” He says, grabbing the hood of the sweater to drag you to the restrooms, taking the bottle away from you. “Go pee.” 
“I don’t have to anymore.” You say, and he narrows his eyes at you.  
“Too bad.” He denies. “Go squeeze something out, I’m not gonna take you again.” He threatens, and you reluctantly go anyways, before you re-emerge, glaring at him, until you have an idea. He watches as you stand in front of him, putting on your best puppy-dog eyes, and holding your arms out upwards to him. “What.” He asks, arms crossed.  
“Carry me?” You ask, and he thinks about it for a good second, before he agrees.  
“Alright.” He nods. 
“Wait, really?!” You ask, surprised- when suddenly, your world is upside-down, with him carrying you over his shoulder, one arm holding onto your legs so you don’t tip over and fall off his back. And he hears you laugh about it most of all, your fluffy, curled tail wagging right into his face if it wasn't for his other hand holding it down as well, his own lips turned into a smile.  
Because honestly, this is what your life is supposed to be like. Happy, fun, and most of all, normal.  
It’s clear to him that you’ve simply never really had any proper interactions before that could’ve taught you how to socialize and get used to general manners- if anything, you most likely always got what you wanted just to have you shut up and be quiet. And eventually, when you grew up into an adult that you are now, things simply had gotten stuck like this. 
The reason why he thinks this, is just how.. Helpless you seem at the simplest of interactions. From simple questions about your hobbies, to normal touches like a hug for a greeting, everything appears to be foreign to you. And you mask that insecurity and lack of understanding with attitude- because up until now, most likely, this must’ve been your best defense. Everyone would leave you alone if you got cranky, and so, these days, you must feel extremely confused and without any direction, considering that this doesn’t work with him.  
But you’ve got to learn. Not just basic manners, but also the fact that not everyone in the world is out to get you.  
Especially not him.  
Back in the practice room, you’re now on his lap, where he’s got your hands behind your back, held by your wrists in his hand, grip strong. “We gotta practice.” You whine, but he knows that’s not what you’re going to do once he lets go.  
“We do.” He agrees. “And we will, once you’ve finished your tantrum.” He tells oyu, and you scoff.  
“I’m not having a tantrum. You’re being an asshole!” You tell him. “Who cares if I eat your snacks? You can just get new one’s!” You complain, and he shakes his head at that.  
“It’s not about that. What’s mine is mine, and what’s yours is yours. If I want to take something from you, I’ll ask. If you want something from me, you’ll have to ask as well.” He explains, and you kick out your legs, trying to get off- but he’s got a strong hold on you, so you’re stuck in place.  
“I’m not a child!” You bark, slipping off of his legs to instead lay on the floor now. He raises a brow.  
“You’re sure acting like one.” He says, crossing his arms. “Don’t you have boundaries that you’d like respected?” He asks, looking down at where you’re laying on the floor at his feet, and you stare at him for a second with an unsure gaze, before you slowly sit up, eyes glossy. It’s obvious that sentence must’ve hit a sore spot for you, because you’re visibly fighting another emotional outburst as you try and swallow down any tears that want to escape.  
It’s quiet. Mostly because you don’t want to break down, and he doesn’t want to say anything that might set you off. He hates seeing you like this- but he knows that one way or another, you’ll have to face these things.  
“I’ll respect any boundary you give me.” He tells you. “I promise you that. But you’ll have to do the same for me, because that’s fair, right?” He asks, and you take in a deep breath, before you lean against his leg, head resting against his thigh.  
“I’m sorry.” You mumble quietly, and he reaches out to out a comforting hand on your head. “I’ll be more fair.” You say, and he smiles.  
“Thank you.” He offers, before you look up at him.  
“Can we practice more now?” You ask, and he shrugs.  
“If you want to.” He says, and you nod.  
“It’s.. Actually fun. If you don’t nag all the time.” You playfully argue, making him roll his eyes.  
“I’m just trying to get you to do your best.” He denies, and you smile brightly at that, tail wagging on the floor, a sight he’s come to really like.  
“Thank you.” You say, and for the first time, he has to admit- 
You can actually be really fucking cute, if you want to be. 
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414 notes · View notes
idesofrevolution · 1 year
Text
Something’s Wrong with Luca
Teddy and Lucas were the best of friends. For the past fifteen years, since Lucas' family moved to town from Argentina, the two were inseparable. In fact, Teddy could remember the very day that they met as if it had happened the day before. Sitting in the back row in homeroom, seventh grade, Ms. Posner's old cadaverous talons gripping the Argentine boy's shoulders as she presented him to the class... Lucas didn't speak English very well at the time, so few if any of the other kids were particularly interested in being his friend. In most of his classes, at least for the first few years, he had to have an aide to help him through his coursework; most of the other kids assumed he was stupid and quiet. But the moment he was sat next to Teddy, sharing that genuine smile, it sparked the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
As Lucas' english speaking continued to improve, Teddy discovered a goofy, funny, laid back kid who just wanted a friend. They weren't popular kids, passing on sports teams, drama club, music ensembles, art club... they spent their time playing in the woods, creating fantastical realms of pirates and kings, elves and dwarves. In their fantasy worlds, they were safe. They were away from the judging eyes of their peers where they could truly be themselves. And so on it continued for the better part of a decade. Upon graduation, they had grown into two wildly intelligent, albeit a bit awkward young men ready to tackle the world. Though, as Teddy went on to university to study literature, Lucas' family wasn't able to afford any of the colleges he'd been accepted to. Thus, for the first time in their lives, the two were separated. Teddy flew across the country to Virginia for college, and Lucas stayed behind to work in his father's mechanic shop.
Their new situations were polar opposite, though their communication and relationship never faded. At least once a week they would facetime, updating eachother on their lives. The dynamic was as solid as it ever was, until it wasn't.
One cold January evening, Teddy sat down for his weekly video call, excited beyond words to tell Lucas about the new PS5 he'd bought for them to play Rocket League together on weekends. Though as call after call went unanswered, he decided to call it a night and touch base with him the next morning. Though, as morning came and went, there was still no sign of Lucas. His social medias went without updates, Teddy's texts went entirely unanswered, the only news heard from him whatsoever was from his step brother who mentioned that he'd seen Lucas working hard at the shop and hitting the gym he'd frequented.
This was the first peculiar incident that Teddy had noted. He'd known Lucas for years and while he was a lot of things, athletic was NOT one of them. It'd always been them versus the meatheads, and it was not like him to even consider lifting so much as a five pound weight. They would joke about the stupid smelly brutes in the school gym, mindlessly picking heavy things up and putting them back down again for some sense of marginal achievement. Though this would be only the beginning of Lucas' odd behavior. Months went by, Teddy checking his Instagram every day looking for a single sign his friend was doing alright, until one day as he was scrolling, he saw it.
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It was Lucas, though not the proud, stringy outcast he'd left behind. This Lucas was ripped, proudly posing shirtless in some fancy-looking room he had never seen before, a cocky smirk plastered on his sweet face. The caption read:
"Workout complete: who's gonna give me a tongue bath?" followed by a slew of hashtags. Teddy's face flushed white as snow. Who was this person? What happened to him? Tapping his icon, Teddy saw that Lucas had changed his screenname to Luca, and this thirst trap he'd posted was the first one in over four months. Unsure of how to approach this vastly different person, Teddy replied to the post with a simple shocked emoji and hit send. It didn't take long before his phone dinged with a message: it was from Luca.
L: "yo sorry I been afk bro. my cuz julio been visiting from buenos aires... so i been hangin wit him. wuts up bro"
Immediately, Teddy thought his phone had been hacked. Luca had spent years perfecting his english, almost to the point where he would have been a tutor in the writing center had he wanted to be one. His texts were always grammatic perfection, down to the last punctuation mark.
T: "Uh, that's fine. I didn't know you had a cousin? You never talked about him or anything."
L: "bruh i didnt know he existed til he showed up. hes dope af. showin me some pointrs at liftin n shit. been changin my life. you gotta meet him when you come back."
T: "Sure, Lucas. I would love to meet him. I should be back next week actually, the semester is almost over. Maybe we can play RL at my place!"
L: "hah i dont think hed be into that kinda stuff. you shud hit the gym wit us when we go, get that pump goin ykwim. you gon love him."
Teddy frowned, had Lucas changed that much in the span of a few months? It wasn't just the physical differences, it was his attitude, it was his style, it was the way he talked, it was just... all wrong.
T: "Lucas, are you okay?"
L: "never better man. its Luca btw. fits better i think"
With that last text, Teddy decided to leave him on read. Lucas... or Luca rather, wasn't one to drink or do illicit substances. Though aside from that, he couldn't think of any other explanation for this dramatic shift in his friend's entire personality. He resolved then and there to get to the bottom of this, and he would do so in person the following week.
Thus, as he finished his finals, packed his bags and flew back home, the singular thing on his mind was seeing Luca. Arriving home, he monotonously went through the motions of greeting his parents and step brother, anxiously fidgeting on the car ride back from the airport. He didn't even take time to unpack his bags. The moment his mom's car parked in his driveway, he'd politely excused himself to go meet up with Luca. Hopping on his bike, he left his visibly confused family in the dust, rushing to the mechanic shop downtown where Luca worked.
By the time he got there, the shop was closing up for the day. Teddy ditched the bike on the concrete and burst into the front office, startling the lady behind the desk. Panting and sweaty, he collapsed onto the front desk.
"Uhm... Is Lucas here?" He breathlessly choked out the words to the woman, who confusedly cocked her head to the left. "Oh, I guess it's Luca now?" This name evidently struck a chord, where she nodded and pointed to the back room where the lockers sat. Teddy thanked her and slowly walked toward the big grey door. Placing his hand on the cold steel handle, he closed his eyes repeating to himself hopes that the person behind the door was the same one he'd always known. As he pressed the handle down and pushed the door open, the wet, dank smell of ripe sweat poured out. There, sitting on the bench, taking off his beat up pair of steel toed work boots was a shirtless Luca, almost twice the size he had been before. Where he used to be 5'8 and 101 lbs soaking wet, this Luca was easily 6'4 and pure muscle. His biceps bulged as he yanked his boot from his massive foot, veins pulsating up and down his arms. That boyish face remained, albeit with a newfound twinge of cockiness that was entirely counter to the mousy, nervous expression Teddy had grown to love. The moment he looked up, Luca grinned from ear to ear, hopping to his damp, socked feet and rushing his long lost best friend, throwing his arms wide to embrace him.
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"Teddy!" Luca's chiseled body collided with Teddy's, holding him tightly against his statuesque torso with his face pressed against his sweat-slick pecs. Teddy felt like a child now compared to his friend, now transformed into a complete stranger. "It's so good to see you, hermano!" A thick Argentine accent bellowed from his newly baritone timbre- one that had been all but lost in school, but now prominently flowed from his supple lips. Teddy pulled away sharply, taking a step back in shock. "Oh, ¿es el olor? My bad, mi cuate. Long day of hard work, right?" Luca laughed, raising his arm to take a deep whiff of his dripping pits. "Ahhh. You grow to like it, me entiendes?" His jovial demeanor quickly subsided as he saw the look of absolute shock on Teddy's face.
"Lucas... What the fuck happened to you?"
"It's Luca now, hermano. I told you. Still the same guy as before, just a lil different now."
"Yeah... different. You can say that again." Luca sighed as he plopped back down onto the bench, spreading his legs wide as he rubbed his face.
"Yeah. I get it, man. It's a lot to take in, verdad? I told you my cousin Julio was in town for a while?" Teddy sternly nodded, straining to contain his contempt for this sharp departure of personality. Luca looked downward. "Yeah, well. He was a lot different from the rest of mi familia. He was a proud Argentino hombre. He was okay with not having perfect english, he wasn't scared of bein' different or bein' looked down on. Someone looked sideways at him and they'd have a broken jaw, me entiendes? It... it was so fuckin' nice to have someone around like me who was cool and strong and proud... I always wanted to be someone like him, Teddy. Always." Teddy saw a different Luca before him. Yeah, he was different, he was the embodiment of the thirst-trapping, smelly jock bros they hated as kids. Yet, in this moment of vulnerability, he saw the Luca he knew deep down.
"Luca, all those years of us being friends, being this close, you never told me that." His head hung low, running his hands through his sweaty locks.
"That's not the only thing I haven't told you, man."
"Luca, you can tell me anythi..." Luca threw his head straight up, staring Teddy straight in the eye before blurting out:
"TEDDY I FUCKIN' LOVE YOU!" The room fell silent. Both men sat there, not breaking eye contact, neither wanting to be the first to speak. Of course, someone had to be the one, and Luca sighed as he continued. "Mi amor, I have always loved you. Since day one. Lookin' at eachother in that old bat's class, I knew I wanted to be near you. With you. And it wasn't 'til Julio made me realize I should have fuckin' said somethin' that I let my balls drop and promised I would tell you. So yeah, man. I love you." Luca stood up abruptly, with a confidence entirely foreign to Teddy and towered above his infatuation. "And you know what? I think you love me too."
Teddy was gobsmacked. This was a revelation he wasn't prepared to address. Luca loved him? This cocky, jockish best friend of his loved him? More importantly, did he love him back? They stood there, waiting once again for the ice to be broken. Before long, Luca had turned around and began to pack his duffel bag, fearing he'd gotten the answer he was hoping to avoid. Yet, perhaps it was a moment of clarity, or even a moment of weakness, but something deep within Teddy surged up from his core out his mouth.
"I love you too." The quiet admission didn't go unnoticed, as Luca stopped everything he was doing and immediately turned around. "Yeah, I think I love you too Luca. You may be different now than you were, but all this time I couldn't stop thinking about you. How much I missed you, how I would have rather spent every single second with you than every moment of being out there without you." Luca smiled earnestly, slowly moving toward his cowering love. "And it made me scared and uncomfortable because I was terrified things were changing and I stayed the same. Seeing you like this this, you're doing what I could never do. You're growing, you're becoming the best version of yourself, and I didn't know if you'd even want to be around me anymore or if you'd be ashamed..." Teddy's groveling finally ended with Luca's lips firmly pressing against his, the stubble on his chin scratching against Teddy's smooth skin. His inhibitions melted away, Teddy allowed himself to fall into the sweaty stud's firm hold, wrapped in a warm sticky embrace.
"Do you wanna to be your best self then, mi amor?" Luca whispered so gently, as if his words were caressing the ear. Breathless, Teddy could only nod as he allowed his endorphins to take over. "Julio showed me how. Do you trust me?" Another silent nod, stifling a guttural moan as he felt Luca's bulge rapidly growing firm against his stomach. This was the explicit consent that Luca felt he needed, he was desperately aching to bestow upon his lover Julio's gift which he had been given months before.
Teddy felt a firm grip against his shoulders pressing him down to his knees, until he was eye level with the lengthening rod which strained against Luca's thick sweatpants. For so long he'd suppressed his innate desire to give it the worship he felt it had never received and as Luca threw the waistband down to his ankles, he was not disappointed as it flew up and smacked him in the jaw. Before him was the most anatomically perfect cock he'd ever seen: easily 10.5 inches of thick, uncut, musky dick. Two large-egg sized balls sagged low behind it, spattered with selective hairs and dripping sweat. Teddy felt drool begin to drip from the bottom of his lip, the sheer heat of the musty hot rod only millimeters from the tip of his nose. Luca smiled, wrapping his hand around it and pulling his long foreskin down, revealing the pink, leaking mushroom head it contained.
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"Julio showed me an old family secret. Only a few of us can do it, and I want to do it for you, mi amor." He began to stroke slowly; his member immediately taking direct notice, throbbing in a fervor more akin to convulsion. "He fucked it up last time, he didn't come back. But now thanks to him... I know how to give it to you, babe." Luca took his thumb and gently pried Teddy's mouth open. Eager to please, Teddy quickly took the opportunity to lick the tip of his cock, instantly savoring the powerful flavor of his dripping pre. It was unlike anything he'd ever tasted. Sweet, salty, sour, savory... every taste bud fired thousands of endorphins in his brain. "Get your tongue in there, Cariño. Let it in." Teddy's tongue acted as if it were under another power, softly probing the leaking slit of the head and causing Luca to groan in ecstasy, throwing his head back. Grabbing the back of his head, in one firm push, Luca speared Teddy's gaping maw with his musky cock, pressing the nose firmly into his ripe bush.
Teddy was nearly scent-drunk in his love's dank, masculine smell, and only after a split second did he realize his entire tongue had slipped into Luca's thick rod. Grunting like a man in heat, the latin adonis gritted his teeth in a mixture of pain and pleasure as he felt Teddy's tongue slowly retract out of his cock. Released from his impalement, Teddy observed the wide opening of the cockslit in full view. Luca's hands gripped his palms, guiding his index finger back to the inviting orifice, effortlessly slipping in and sounding into his member. Elastic stretching sounds echoed in the room as the cock widened to fit his finger, then two, then four... until the whole hand was inside.
Teddy felt entranced, completely enveloped in the heat of the moment, plunging his second hand into the gaping hole. It stretched wide to welcome him, and with a single glance upward to a winking Luca, he understood. Teddy worked quickly, using forward momentum and the increasing suction within the engorged cock to propel his head forward into the tight wet cavern. The rest happened quickly. The sucking member had taken his arms and head entirely inside of it, squeaking and expanding as it guzzled his shoulders, chest and midsection. He could feel Luca lift his dick upward, letting him slide deeper and deeper. It was constricting, it was tight, it was wet, it smelled funky and ripe... it was the best sensation he'd ever felt. As his thighs and calves were made quick work of, only his feet remained outside of the slit. It took mere seconds for them to slurp inside.
Luca's cock was as large as he was, veins bulging and the entire length of it bulging and contorting as it worked Teddy down little by little toward his balls. He began to pump toward his sweaty balls, until he could feel the tips of his boyhood friend's fingers reach the opening into his cavernous testes. As if a seal had been broken, Teddy's body fell into the ocean of spunk, swelling his balls to accommodate the entire human being being nestled into his sac. The pace of his cock pumping hastened, as he felt closer and closer to climax. He felt the rigid bones and gelatinous fat begin to melt into his seed as Teddy was assimilated entirely into his system. Just as Julio had done to him, and just as he had in turn done to Julio. His breathing shallowed, gasping for air as he reached his tipping point, shooting out cum like a firehose all over the interior of the room. In it, was every insecurity, every pain, every imperfection which had plagued his lover since he was forced into the world. Gallons, tens of gallons in cum painted every surface around him, and as his balls began to shrink back down to the size of cantaloupes, he could feel his body churning Teddy down, incorporating him into the remnants of what was left of Julio. The gift itself, handed down the line for thousands of years was being imbued into the very core of Teddy's being. Julio had overshot his escape route in the heat of his own carnal lust, being broken down and slowly assimilated into Luca's body. The cockiness, the libido, the drive, the gift all now coursed through Luca. He was gone, but he didn't have to be wasted.
Over the next few weeks of churning, gurgling, bubbling, and undulating, Teddy was broken down and rebuilt only to be broken down again. Each time, a little more of Julio's essence would incorporate into him, even some of Luca himelf found its way into his shapeless form. Every workout that he did provided bursts of testosterone into the mix, and every jerking session flooded serotonin and glutamate. And after carefully monitoring the time, ensuring that Teddy would not meet his cousin's fate, three months later, it was time.
Sitting down in the luxurious apartment paid for by thirsty gay subscribers to his JustForFans and PH videos, Luca took his cock into his hands once more. Gently. Slowly. Carefully. Never losing focus of what was at stake, he stroked. Within his heavy balls, his leche had begun to bubble and slosh, preparing itself for expulsion. He picked up the pace, lifting his arm to get a full inhale of his pungent, all-natural pit poppers. His cock began to pulse and crack, as the thick sludge began to make its way toward the exit. Sure not to fall into the same trap as before, he pulled away from his tangy stink and focused. It was time. His hand moved furiously up and down his slimy cock, dripping with pre which pooled at his big, musky feet. One final cry of euphoria and out shot his load. One barrage after another, thick and dense landing afront him. Each shot slowly coagulating into a recognizable form. It slowly hardened, the milky white color giving way to ivory, then light beige, then a warm tan. Muscles tightened beneath a smooth skin, their fibers reconnecting one by one until they were strong and lean.
By the end of the bombardment, the homunculus before him had stood up. It was as tall as him, as broad as him, as powerful as him, and as the form of it's face began to take shape, a single tear was shed from Luca's watery eyes. He recognized his love, he could see Teddy, albeit ever so slightly different. He had certainly taken more of Julio and Luca's essences than they'd anticipated. A sharp, chiseled jawline carved itself out of the miasma, dark brown locks of hair sprung from it's scalp and plump lips parted to allow the deep breath of life which had been denied until then. His caramel eyes opened, and he smiled.
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suzukiblu · 6 months
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WIP guessing game: "Robin"
Superboy has existed for about six months at best (five months, two weeks, and six days, but who's creepily spying on their fellow heroes and vigilantes? not Tim, for sure) and was created in a lab full of extremely niche genetic experiments whose creators very rarely bothered making look human, which is probably why he has some weird ideas about certain social norms.
Tim assumes that's why the guy just decided to drop a very annoyed Catwoman on him out of nowhere, anyway.
"The fuck?" he says, though through his vocoder it comes out more like the incoherent screeching of the damned. That being, well, the whole purpose of the vocoder and all. Superboy grins down at him from the nighttime sky all bright and sunny and weirdly adorable, for being a lab-grown weapon and a guy who is technically capable of disassembling Tim down to his individual atoms with, like, a touch and about two seconds' worth of thought.
Not that Tim has been creepily spying on anyone or said anyone's Cadmus files, again.
Also Superboy might not even know he can do that yet, so it's really not a smart thing to mention right now.
"Hey, man!" Superboy greets cheerfully. "She was breaking into that big museum a couple blocks over, figured you'd care about that. As opposed to, like, breaking into some rich asshole with insurance's penthouse. Figured you would not have cared about that."
"The museum also has insurance, for the record," Selina informs him sourly as she makes an art of getting off her unceremoniously roof-dumped ass while looking like being on this roof was her idea to begin with. Because, like: Selina. "And has not properly sourced the artifacts in their new Bast exhibit."
I know, that's why I was on my way to the museum to keep an eye out for you, is what Tim does not say, since Robin is supposed to be a splintered aspect of a mysterious all-knowing city spirit given human form and not just, like, a really dedicated teenager surviving on semi-legal energy drinks and conspiracy-board detective work and the occasional occult ritual to summon the Batman.
What he does do is jerkily cock his head and say, "Preyyyyy?", and let his vocoder horribly mangle the word into a sound usually best described as "unholy avian screeching". Superboy beams, which is not a normal reaction to hearing Robin's voice. Selina just rolls her eyes, but Selina of course knows about the whole "really dedicated teenager surviving on semi-legal energy drinks and conspiracy-board detective work and the occasional occult ritual to summon the Batman" thing.
Like she's never summoned the Batman for anything, geez. Or "Bruce", as an eight year-old Dick Grayson had once upon a time decided to randomly dub him. Tim still can't call the eternal and unsleeping eldritch protector of their city that without feeling like he's going to spontaneously combust, but it is in fact a thing that the Batman will answer to.
Might as well call Pennyworth "Alfie", though.
Jason was even worse at names than Dick, Tim is pretty sure.
"Yeah!" Superboy says, sounding still more cheerful and floating down the rest of the way to the roof to land lightly in front of Tim. Selina eyes him in a way that would end very badly for anyone who was not functionally invulnerable. "I mean, she seems cool and all but I dunno, figured the Bat wasn't big on Cats in his territory. And also the criming. Definitely also the criming."
"How . . . find Robin?" Tim asks. Superboy doesn't have enhanced senses, as far as he knows, so . . .
"Oh, I've been stalking you," Superboy explains. Tim blinks behind his unblinking mask and feels several ways about that statement. "That's what you Bats all do when you're interested in somebody, right? So I figured you'd like it if I did it back."
. . . Tim feels several ways about that statement.
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phoen1xr0se · 2 months
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Chapter 39 of Don't Fall Away From Me is up on AO3! (M)
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Art Credit: @wisesnail
Chapter Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley find themselves revisiting an old haunt as they prepare to meet their maker. Aziraphale's faith is tested to its limit.
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Author's Note: I hope you are enjoying this story. The comments you leave on AO3 mean so very much to me, I treasure every one of them. Without them I'd have given up by now!
Next chapter should be up fairly shortly, but am in hospital Monday and Tuesday which, annoyingly, has impacted everything. I'll still do my best.
🖤🩶🤍🖤🩶🤍🖤🩶🤍🖤🩶🤍🖤🩶🤍🖤🩶🤍
Enjoy, and again, please leave a comment on AO3 if you can:
The opening to Chapter 39 is below the cut (no spoilers):
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Aziraphale had been on Earth for a very, very long time.
His feet had touched the cool grass of Eden on the day of its creation, felt the sun’s first rays as they caressed him through the leaves of the apple trees, enveloping him with a warmth he hadn’t ever realised had been absent. Aziraphale had seen the plans for this planet and its population, but nothing could have prepared him for the soft, tender fragility of petals on a brightly blooming flower, or the hopeful, sweet song that filled the air from the winged creatures that flew up above. As he had walked through the garden, surveying all that he had been chosen to protect, the heart inside his new corporation had swelled, fit to burst, at all the good it saw.
Yes, Aziraphale had loved Earth, and everything on it, since the beginning of its creation.
He had watched as the world grew, evolved, blossomed – and he, too, had changed with it. The world kept on shifting, and Aziraphale found that the angel he had been designed to be was no longer fit for his new assignment. Humans, in all their unique and messy beauty, craved things he couldn’t understand, thrived not only in the love of God but of one another, in shared moments of laughter, connection and intimacy.
And his heart, the heart that had been filled with all this goodness, all this humanity, had, unbeknownst to him, been shifting, changing, blossoming. Aziraphale found himself longing, wanting. Wondering, in lonely moments, if perhaps there was more.
In almost all of those moments, there had been Crowley.
He’d once thought that the demon materialised during those weak moments as a test, a temptation, a slap on the wrist, stinging with guilt and shame, every time he caught sight of that flame-red hair.
It had taken him centuries to realise that Crowley was none of those things, but, in fact, everything he had been seeking, the hollow, aching thing his heart had been craving for. Not a test, not the apple, not a question, but the answer to the puzzle, the sated feeling after a feast, the fixed point upon which the Earth had kept turning.
It had been the two of them, and the Earth, since the Beginning.
And now it was the two of them, and the Earth, at the End.
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teatoptony · 2 months
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The Same Boat
ask; hi sorry if this is too much detail but a request for reader the same age as Luke and joins the camp at around 16-17 but they had a really nice life before joining camp half blood and really hates the camp because she deeply misses her friends and boyfriends and girlfriends, and it takes place when she’s first joining and she points out to Luke how terrible the system is and they bond over being really angry about the gods. thank u!!!
pairing(s); luke castellan x gn!reader (romantic or platonic, not exactly specified but leaning more towards platonic)
warning(s); daddy issues ig
a/n; i changed the story a lil bit so that the reader didn’t just get to camp, but got there a little bit ago and was given a quest which ended a lil bit before the fic starts, hope u don’t mind. pre-lightning thief. i had ares in mind as reader’s gp but it’s not specified, i did refer to them as a dad and their mortal parent as a mom though
it’s been a while since i’ve read the books and i personally never got the luke hype so sorry if it’s a little ooc, also a bit short. had book luke in mind while writing but could be read for book or series luke ig if you ignore minor physical descriptions
art credits(left to right); velinxi, velinxi, frostbite studios
You had never known who your godly parent was.
You’d always assumed it was one of the minor gods, since the satyr assigned to your school hadn’t sought you out until you were old enough to drive. Either that or you just weren’t ‘gifted’ enough to garner much attention. You didn't know which you preferred.
In a way, it didn’t really matter. No one claimed you anyway, so you spent the first couple weeks of your stay at Camp Half-Blood — a very inconspicuous name, by the way — in cabin eleven, the Hermes Cabin.
It was a rough adjustment. You were resentful of this new world; a world of gods and monsters and magic and so many weird stories that made it hard to keep track of every twist and turn and easy to offend whichever god whose myths or name you got confused. You felt like someone was watching you at all times. Or would it be the opposite, since your godly parent clearly didn’t care enough to claim you as their own?
It didn’t help much when you were assigned a quest, either. Or rather, one of your friends were.
Austin Lake, a child of Apollo, was tasked to retrieve his father’s lyre from a forest — not just any forest, no, the Grove of Demeter. Or at least, a recreation of it, anyway. According to Austin, Demeter had banned his father from ever entering the Grove again when he’d had a little too much ‘fun’ with one of the wood nymphs there, so he needed his son to go fetch his lost toy.
Bit derogatory, you thought. We’ve been reduced to well-trained dogs.
Still, you tagged along.
There were a couple hiccups along the way, which you were told were par for the course by Chiron, who welcomed you back rather dismissively once you returned. Normally, you would’ve been offended. I mean, you get back from a not-so-semi life threatening outing, and all you get is a halfhearted pat on the back? Honestly.
But you couldn’t really find it in yourself to care. Not today.
-
You sat on the hillside as you watched the sunset. Wind carried the sweet scent of ripe strawberries from the fields along with the smell of dirt and other greenery as the grass beneath you swayed in the breeze. The blades tickled your skin as you basked in the calm silence of everything — something fairly unusual for this place, as far as you could tell from your stay so far.
You, however, did not feel calm. Quite the opposite, in fact. Your feelings toward the world of Greek mythology hadn’t been good in the first place, to say the least; you’d had to practically abandon any and all traces of your life back home in order to get here since you’d been discovered so late. You missed your friends (whom you assumed would be worried sick by now, since cell service was pretty much nonexistent here and you’d only been able to contact a few of them via post), and you missed the taste of actual junk food that came from cans and bags. You even missed school, as boring and hellish as it was. At least it offered a sense of normalcy that you so desperately needed right about now.
“Room for one more?” A voice asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. You turned to see Luke standing beside the pine on top of the hill, a Coca Cola in either hand. There was a small smile on his lips as he said, “I brought drinks.”
You smiled back at him, mostly out of courtesy but also at his offer. It was as if he'd read your mind. “Sure, if you want.”
Luke strolled down to sit beside you, handing you one of the fizzy drinks and popping his own. The can was pleasantly cool to the touch, a stark contrast to the harsh sunlight hitting your skin. “Thanks.” You muttered, taking the soda with a grateful look.
“Don’t mention it,” he replied. “We keep a secret stash of six-packs in the kitchen for special occasions. The harpies are pretty easy to bribe.”
Silence settled between the two of you as you sipped on your drinks. You stared straight ahead as you did before, but now you caught glimpses of Luke’s sandy blond hair out of the corner of your eye.
It was… awkward.
Luke had always been a bit of a mystery for you. Sure, you saw him as a friendly guy, and he had been nice to you ever since your first day here, but you noticed little details the younger or happier campers didn’t.
He never really liked talking about his father, Hermes, despite having been claimed almost as soon as he got to Camp. Okay, maybe that was fair, since he had to deal with loads of hopeful, undetermined campers asking him when they would be claimed, too.
‘Oh, I was claimed the minute I got here. But since your godly parent didn’t claim you yet, I guess they just don’t care about you.’
Yeah, not a great thing to tell a twelve-year-old.
Luke was also pretty closed off in general. He was an easy guy to make friends with, sure. But other than surface-level stuff like what color he likes or which Camp activities were his favorite, only one or two people knew much of anything about his personal life. Which was to say, his life before coming here, since it’d be pretty hard to have a ‘personal life’ when you lived in cabin eleven year-round.
You remembered the night before you took off for the quest. Luke’s face illuminated by flames as he burnt his nightly offerings with the rest of the camp, his expression one you could still clearly picture. A mellow bitterness — something kept suppressed for years, stacking and stacking and never getting cleaned out, building like dust and cobwebs on top of an old dresser. It was a face you assumed you'd wear eventually, too.
And that wasn’t even mentioning all the time he spent in the arena. His swordsmanship was the definition of textbook when he was training other campers, but it was a whole different story if you happened to stumble across him practicing on dummies in his spare time. His swings were quick and precise, as usual. However, there was an almost brutal quality to him as he maimed the dummy, slashing it as if it'd slaughtered his entire family.
Not that it would be that weird if the dummy had actually murdered them, Greek mythology and all.
Anyway.
“So...” Luke started. Then he must've realized he didn't really know what to say. He stared straight ahead and tapped his finger on his knee.
“So...” You repeated. You could tell he had something to say to you, he just didn't know the best way to go about it. After all, who would waste contraband on someone they didn't really know if it wasn't to sweeten them up before asking a favor? “..Did you need something?”
Luke opened his mouth, but hesitated before saying anything. “Actually.. yeah.”
See? No one's that nice.
“I kinda heard what happened,” He continued. You picked at the tab of your can, avoiding eye contact. Of course he knew. Something like that can't exactly stay a secret for long in a place like this. “I overheard Austin talking to Chiron about it?”
Well, fuck him then.
“He mentioned you wanna keep it on the down-low, so, your secret's safe with me.” He quickly added, giving you a reassuring smile.
“Oh, um...” You didn't really know what to say to that. It was bound to get out eventually, so it was the sentiment that mattered, you guessed. “Thanks.”
“Least I could do,” He nodded. “It was supposed to be a secret anyway, right?”
“I guess.”
“...It's bound to get out eventually though.”
You sighed. There was no actual hope with keeping this a secret, after all. The best you could do was a 'everyone knows about it but we don't talk about it' secret.
“I know, don't remind me.” You muttered. “I mean, it'd be hard to hide moving to a different cabin, wouldn't it?”
Luke chuckled. “I can't speak from personal experience, but yeah, probably.”
You groaned, hiding your face in your hands. You felt like pulling your hair out. “How much do you know?”
“Not that much,” he shrugged. You didn't need to look at him to know he was lying, you had a pretty good track record of telling when someone was. “Just that you got claimed, and you're not happy about it.”
“How could I be happy about it?” You burst out, straightening your back as you whipped your head up. Your hands spread out in front of you and your heels dug into the ground beneath them. “I never wanted this life! What, I’m supposed to be grateful that my deadbeat dad finally showed up? That he finally ‘claimed’ me? What is there to be grateful for? That isn’t even the bare fucking minimum of being a parent!”
Luke tensed. You didn’t blame him. The gods were always listening, somehow omnipresent but not enough to be there for their own kids. Fucking ridiculous.
Against your better judgement, your rant continued, spilling out of your mouth like word vomit.
“It's not like I expect him to be there for every step of my life, but would it have killed him to show his face, willingly, just once? My mom works three jobs just to keep a place for the two of us to stay! What, he couldn't send child support every now and then? He's a fucking god! What good is being a god if you aren't there for the people you're supposed to be taking responsibility for?”
“Yeah, I hear that.”
You scoffed. “Sure you do.”
“I'm serious.” Luke defended, putting his can down on the ground. “I've only met my dad once, and even for a god he was kinda shitty.”
You raised an eyebrow at him.
“Okay, fine. He was completely shitty.” Luke admitted. With a bit of hesitation, he elaborated further, fidgeting with a blade of grass.
“Before I came to Camp, I was on the run.” He said, a faraway look in his eyes, almost as if he were talking about a different lifetime. “It was me, Annabeth and Thalia.”
“Thalia as in..?”
“Yeah,” he said, a bitter smile on his lips as he glanced back at the tall pine tree that stood at the top of the hill. “That's her.”
You bit your lip as you stared at the pine. Now that you knew there was a story behind it, your mind played tricks on you. The branches were suddenly outstretched arms, the leaves spiky hair and you could have sworn you could make out the shape of a face in the pattern of the bark.
“This one time, Thalia was hurt, and we needed a place to stay for a bit. Since we were desperate and not really thinking straight, we went to my mom's place.” He sighed. “When we got there... I met him.”
Luke took a deep breath, his eyebrows furrowing as if just thinking about that moment physically hurt. “I'd known what I was for a while. Prayed to my dad a couple times, too, but he never got back to me. When I met him at that house, I asked him for help. I knew we wouldn't be safe at mom's. I asked him for guidance... and he said no.”
You nodded along with his words. The sun was beginning to set now, a light chill in the air. The sky was a golden orange, which bathed everything out of the shadows in a yellow light. Luke's eyes looked almost the same color as the light reflected off of them.
“If he'd just told us where to go then and there, if he told us about this place...” He trailed off. He clenched his jaw before drinking the last of his coke and flattening the can. “Thalia would still be alive. Living. She wouldn't be...”
Silence settled between the two of you again. Luke didn't want to talk about it any longer, and, as curious as you were, you didn't want to pry. But it was less awkward this time around, a mutual understanding connecting you both.
“Kind of a dick move.” You remarked quietly. To your surprise, Luke laughed.
“Kind of?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Nah, total dick move.” You corrected yourself. You gave him a small smile. “Both our dads are jerks. Guess it runs in the family.”
“That's one thing.”
“Yeah? What’s the other?”
Luke shook his head, the corner of his lip tilting up into a half smile. “Maybe I’ll tell you later.”
You rolled your eyes. “Lame.”
The sky was turning purple now, a vibrant shade that leaned mire towards red than blue. Though soon it would be the other way around, and the harpies would come out to scare any campers who were out past curfew. You’d heard rumors that Mr.D allowed them to eat the strays sometimes, but you doubted they were true. Travis and Connor were still alive, after all. Though maybe they’d just never been caught.
Your run in with your father played on repeat in your head, each loop accentuating one horrible thing about it or the other. You fidgeted with the grass, ripping a few blades out of the ground. You bit your lip. Should you tell him about it? It would probably be good to get it off your chest. Plus, Luke actually understood how much this shit sucked.
“…You know what he said to me? When he saw me?” You finally muttered, deciding to trust him, just a bit. “He didn’t even recognize me, but I knew. The second I saw him, it was like something clicked. It took him a while, but when he made the same connection… He said, ‘shoot.’”
You laughed humorlessly. “‘Shoot.’ Like I was some piece of homework he forgot to do, and not his kid he abandoned before I was even born. I wanted to strangle him, I swear, but…”
You trailed off. You didn’t want to admit it, but your father was terrifying.
‘Watch the attitude.’ He had said, his hulking form growing until he was almost level with the trees surrounding him. ‘I don’t take disrespect, especially not from my own kids.’
I’m not your kid, you now thought, biting the inside of your cheek. He had never been a dad to you. As far as you were concerned, you didn’t have a father.
“I wished he were gone.”
You felt Luke’s gaze on the side of your head, practically boring holes into your skull. You glanced at him. Maybe you shouldn’t have told—
“You didn’t deserve that.” Luke suddenly said, a fire behind his words you’d never heard before. “None of us do.”
He stopped for a moment, his jaw clenched. Taking a deep breath, he turns his body towards you, facing you completely. There was no mistaking it now; there was gold swirling behind his blue irises.
“I have a proposition you might wanna hear.”
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crevvington · 1 month
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I am open for questions... again.
For your sakes, I hope you critters learned your lesson. Though I doubt you things could ever learn.
((As an OOC re-introduction for old followers (and an introduction for new followers) welcome to this silly little fan-made ask blog for Chip Revvington from Toontown: Corporate Clash! Don't worry, you're free to waste his time. Or try to get on his good side. He can't control your actions, but he will remember them.
As a Rundown: You can Ask him any questions, or Submit something you want him to see. Additionally, anyone without a Tumblr Account who would like to ask something may still send him questions via Retrospring. Answers will still be posted solely on this blog. If you'd like to catch up on what you missed, you can view answers in Chronological Order.
And now for some Ground Rules:
No NSFW, but you probably knew that already. Keep asks TV-14!
Chip can be very mean. Please don’t take what he says personally, he’s a silly Toontown character and not a real person!
“In-Character” asks will widely depend on if you’re playing a Toon or a Suit. Unless otherwise specified, Chip will assume and treat askers as though they’re Toons.
Asks can and will be answered out of order, with some being answered sooner or later than others. Sometimes they'll be queued, other times they'll just be freely posted.
Please be aware that this blog functions outside of all other TTCC-related ask blogs! While he may interact through received asks or on the rare occasion with drawn reblogs, this blog has its own “universe” and interpretations of characters.
At this current time Magic Anons are not being accepted! This may change in the future.
You’re free to make fanart, fandubs, fanfic or really any sort of derivative work based on the content in this blog without needing to ask! As long as you don’t claim you made the content on this blog, of course. We’d love to see it! You can submit it directly or post it and then @ the blog in it.
This blog is not affiliated with Toontown: Corporate Clash in any manner. This is just a fun little passion project and anything said should not be taken as canon fact.
Reiterating once more, this blog above all else is a passion project. There may be dry spells or unannounced hiatuses depending on motivation. Additionally, not all asks will be answered with the same "quality" of art. There’s also no strict passage of time between posts unless explicitly stated.
Content Warning: This blog may contain content such as Mild Swearing, Cartoon Violence, Realistic Violence, Horror, Dereality, Death, and other content that may be distressing for viewers. Said content will be tagged as necessary, and you are free to ask privately for certain content to be tagged.
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mathewharris7703 · 20 days
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"A young 8 year old boy, full of imagination, has met a new friend at his school. Since the start of the 3rd grade has been struggling at school with paying attention in class and having to deal with bullies that's trying to ruin his high imagination, his fixations and his sociability with others that has similar interests to him. He made a wish one night, a simple wish of having a friend that could help him through out this new year of school. The next day, a new transfer student arrived. A fun-loving, wooden doll that goes by the name of Geno. As someone who's imaginative, knowing what's true and fake, he couldn't believe his eyes that an actual talking wooden doll is the new kid. Funnily enough, everyone else in that school just didn't question it. In fact, some either didn't care that much or just simply found him cool and interesting (even loving his dress sense). To the young boy however, he felt joy. The two, obviously, got along well when they finally met in class, sitting next to each other. Geno mentions to the boy about The Star Road and how wishes comes true. The Star Road heard the wish of the boy wanting a friend and Geno, who previously heard stories of the boy's imagination from his other fellow stars, volunteered to take the form of the wooden doll once again, now dressed more casually and modern, wearing comfy clothes of a blue cap, yellow shirt, a starry blue overall dress, socks and trainers (that he really adores).
During recess, the boy and Geno played a game of Tag, where you chase one person and try to tag them so that they are it. Geno is the chaser while the boy is trying to not be tagged. With his imagination, he imagined himself flying, showing tiny little wings by the sides of his shoulders. As they both ran, happily and confidently respectively, Geno's sparkles showed from behind, speeding up. The boy is very happy to have his new friend Geno by his side and is excited to spend more days with him throughout the rest of the year!" Art by @nintendonut1
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ladykailitha · 1 year
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Oh For a Muse of Fire! Part 1
Yeah...I know I said I would be taking a step back but then my muse went “Brrrrr!” and wouldn’t let me up until I had over 6k words and several more scenes I wanted to do, including the end.
Art student!Steve and Live Model! Eddie AU. Enemies to lovers. Eddie is a straight up ass in the first few chapters of this.
*
Steve was in the library looking at his schedule with Robin.
“It’s my last semester, Robs,” he said squinting at the computer screen. “And then I can graduate.”
Robin sighed. “I still have a year to go, you are so lucky.”
Steve was looking at the remaining credits he needed to graduate with art teaching degree and was shocked to find that he only needed one class.
“Shit.”
She leaned over his shoulder to look at the computer, too.
“Shit,” she echoed.
“Live figure drawing,” Steve muttered with an air finality. “The class I failed three times.”
“Mhmm,” Robin agreed. “Once a year.”
He banged his head on the desk. “I hate that class. And it’s always awful. There was the creepy old man that kept hitting on me the whole time.” He had been forced to drop the class. He had been reimbursed for it, but because it happened just after the midterm, insta-fail. “Then there was poor heavy-set girl. The constant sniggering and jeering made me ill and when the professor refused to anything about it...” he shook his head.
“Yeah, that was the worst,” Robin whispered. “But at least that incident got that professor fired.”
Steve nodded. That had been the only good thing that had come out of that class. But getting him fired made for another insta-fail. He tried to protest that one, but the Dean refused to budge.
“The last time was all you, though,” she said, pushing at his shoulder.
Steve cleared his throat and hung his head. Because, yeah that one was on him.
The new professor brought in an extremely fit basketball player. Steve had spent very little time drawing and a lot of time trying not to stare. So when he turned in his final with a blurry face and nothing drawn in the middle, he had failed the class again.
Robin pointed at the screen. “It’s a different teacher again this year.”
Steve lifted his head to look at what she was pointing at. J. Byers.
“Shit,” he murmured. “You don’t think that’s like Joyce Byers, do you?”
Steve had done a lot of babysitting and holding down two jobs to pay for school out his own pocket because his dad wasn’t willing to pay for what amounted to an art degree. He would work at Family Video while the kids were in school and then work at the plant at nights on weekends.
Will Byers was one of those he babysat. The kid had an older brother. But he had been working full time to keep the lights on while their mom got a master’s degree.
Robin’s mouth worked but no sound came out.
“I think this got even more awkward,” Steve murmured.
Robin just patted his shoulder in sympathy.
*
Steve was in hell. That was the only explanation for all of this. It had been Joyce Byers and he had to get the Dean to sign off him being in her class because she might be accused of favoritism. In fact if it hadn’t been the only class Steve needed to graduate he was pretty sure the Dean wouldn’t have allowed it.
Which was fine. Awkward, but fine. Nope. The part that made it hell was who was currently sitting on a stool in the middle of the classroom, (completely dressed, thank god!) was Eddie Munson.
The so-called Freak of Hawkins High. Or as Steve called him in his head “Steve Harrington’s biggest gay crush.” So yeah. All that work to get special permission to take the class and he was going to fail anyway.
Joyce stepped up to stand next to Eddie. “Hello, I’m Mrs Byers. Or Joyce, whichever make you more comfortable. Because that’s the point of this class. You being comfortable. I know this not ideal for a lot people. Especially young people like yourselves. So we’re going to start off slow. Working on different parts of the body and then for your final it will the complete nude form.”
Steve let out a shuddering breath. He wasn’t the only one, thank god, but if Eddie had stripped then and there, Steve would have fainted.
“This will be your live model this semester,” she continued, indicating to Eddie on the stool. “Why don’t you introduce yourself?”
Eddie grinned, his dimples making themselves known. “Hi! I’m Eddie. I was looking for a way to make easy money between gigs with my band. I have tattoos, but Joyce here has assured me that that won’t be problem for you sweethearts as this is an advanced art class.”
Steve gulped. It wasn’t going to be a problem art-wise. But libido-wise? He was in so much trouble.
After class he stopped to talk to Joyce.
“Hey, Mrs Byers,” he greeted with barely the hint of a stammer. “How’s Will?”
Joyce hugged him. “It’s so good to see you, honey. Will is doing great. He’s navigating school better now that we’re back in Illinois.”
Steve nodded. They had briefly gone out to California so that she could get some special accreditation or something like that.
“Tell him I miss him,” he said.
Joyce smiled. “Of course, sweetie.” She gave his hand a squeeze and said she had to get back to work.
Steve nodded again and walked out the door.
“Well, well, well,” Eddie said. “If it isn’t the former king of Hawkins High. I thought I saw you lurking in the back.”
Steve closed his eyes and turned slowly. There he was, leaning against the wall, one leg propped against, while the other stretched out in front of him. His arms were crossed, and his hair dangled in front of his bowed head. Steve itched to draw him oh so badly.
“Munson,” he said trying to keep the tremor from his voice.
Eddie lifted his head. “So you do remember me, should I feel honored?”
Steve let out a heavy sigh. “You do what you want, you always have.”
“I heard you got special permission for this class,” Eddie sneered. “You convince the Dean to take the class for a lookie-Lou? Sorry to disappoint, Harrington. Not some hot chick you can leer at for fifteen weeks.”
Steve’s head rocked back in shock. “Fuck you, man. For starters I got special permission because being the former babysitter for teacher is a bad look for both of us. For another, this is my last class I need for my art degree.”
Eddie raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Daddy let you take art? Must really not need the dough.”
Steve balled his hands to prevent the rage from tumbling out. “No. I worked hard to get where I am. And for the record...they never have hot women. Not if they don’t want to get sued for harassment. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go to work because not all of us can take our clothes off and be paid.”
He stormed off, tears streaming down his face.
*
Eddie watched him go with a slow lick of his lips. That went differently then he expected. He didn’t think Harrington would cop to admitting that he was there to leer, but his lie about art school? That was a new low.
And babysitting? No parent in their right mind would leave Steve “the Hair” Harrington in charge of their kids. Lie number two.
And then trying to get out of talking to him by saying he had work? Harrington lived in Loch Nora. The richest part of town. He didn’t have to work a day in his life. Lie number three.
And what was that about not being able to take off his clothes and get paid? It didn’t sound right to his ears. It was like he wasn’t dogging the modeling gig but that he couldn’t.
Which anyone who had eyes knew that was bullshit.
Joyce came out and saw him still standing there. “Thank you again for doing this, Eddie.”
“You’re welcome, Joyce,” he said with a charming smile. “I don’t mind. I’m sorry your other model bailed on you last minute though.”
Joyce sighed. “She got a bar tending job that starts on tonight and I’d really prefer not to have my models fall asleep in the middle of posing.”
“Chrissy’s good girl,” Eddie said. “I’m actually glad she got the job at the bar. Some of the guys in the class looked pretty slimy.”
Joyce sighed. “It happens every time. They take just enough art classes in order to get in and then are disappointed when it’s not some pretty girl.”
Eddie nodded, thinking of Steve Harrington.
“And this school has had a problem with a couple of the last models they had,” Joyce murmured. “If another incident occurs, the class will be dropped all together and I’ll be out of job.”
“I’ll keep an eye out for you,” he said, with a gentle squeeze of her shoulder.
Joyce looked up at him with a smile. “You’re so sweet, Eddie. I’m glad Will found someone like you to look up to.”
Eddie blushed, shoving his hair in his mouth. “I like the kid. He’ll do just fine.”
Joyce nodded. “See you tomorrow.” She waved goodbye and walked away.
*
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Epilogue
Just tagging a few of my regulars, but if you want to be tagged let me know in the comments. Thanks!
Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369
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askcometcare · 2 months
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question, was there ever a scrapped cometcare kid?
OOC: FUN FACT TIME! From 2019-2021 Soob was kind of in existence-limbo where she had a theoretical design but I just couldn't think of a personality that would make her fit in with the other kids. Originally her interests when I designed her were more like Marcos, but I couldn't get a personality down. When I made Marco in 2020 I kinda just took Soob's original planned interests and threw them onto my vague personality concept for Marco (which was to be the "tired" eldest one, based around his allotpun). Soob didn't have that to her, and I basically didn't really use her at all from late 2019 through early 2021. In the second half of 2021 I attempted to revive her with the name Miles, but once again I ran into the issue of having no idea what I wanted her personality to be or how to even make her fit in. I was gonna make her have interests in writing but personality wise I was just clueless. Therefore I barely used her or developed her at all once again.
That's why in her old art section there's so little, despite her actually being one of the oldest legacy Cometcare cast designed in 2019 like Sly and Cream and Frosty. It wasn't until I started the blog in 2023 that I decided to try a new take on her, and I loved the magician idea a lot. A lot of the other nearsiblings didn't actually exist until I decided to make the ask blog. I had a really really vague concept for Chloe back in 2022 but never actually actualized it until I decided I was gonna actually do something with these characters after an ask blog got suggested to me by someone on here.
I think I've said before that despite having lore and personality and relationships and everything for these guys, I didn't actually have a real story or anything planned because I wasn't really making a comic with them. I just drew stuff of them and would rp with them and stuff. I treated them very differently than I did the main comic. Even now, I still treat them very differently because I feel a lot more creative freedom when it's a nonserious ask blog for-fun AU I'm working with as opposed to my serious dedicated webcomic.
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lakesparkles · 8 months
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MORE MR PEANUTBUTTER!! Can you tell I like him?? The worst part is that it's all very new art, I drew all of this in... 3 days? Idk
So, this one is very self indulgent. I wanted to explore his relationships with some characters in my AU (the one he dates both Diane and Guy, it all happens after the finale of the show). One of the reasons I love creating this AU (I even just finished writing a fanfic about it!!) is so I can develop PB more.
If you want an explanation about his relationships, it'll be under the cut!
Bojack: they spend way more time together now that they live together in California - PB has two houses, so he travels there to Houston all the time. His relationship with Bojack… Is improving, just like showed in the doodles. Some people even mistake them as a old married couple, but nah, they didn't even kiss once. Maybe once. Bojack doesn't want to talk about it. One day, years later, Mr Peanutbutter will make peace with his own sexuality, look back and realize that things make way more sense now.
Guy: talking about his sexuality, Guy plays a big role on it. I created a whole backstory for him, but it's a story for another day. He's way more comfortable about being bi than PB is - who is now having a lot of questions: "what if he's wrong about it?"; "what if he's too old for that?"; "what if all media reacts very badly about it?" It's a little easier when he's not alone. Their personalities go very well together and, other than that, PB is having the time of his life having a husband now <3 Guy usually calls him "dog" and PB isn't sure if he thinks it's cute or the opposite.
Pickles: I have a lot of thoughts about Pickles tbh. Some of her scenes made me think that she seemed so lonely. Years after dating and breaking up with PB, she realized that their relationship… Was kinda messed up, yes. But she was never angry, even being happy seeing how different his life is right now. When she meets PB again and finds out that, not only he felt guilty during all the time they dated, but also *still feels that way*, she thinks it's a little funny. She has a good life now, he didn't ruin anyone like he thought he did. They end up in good terms and message each other often enough.
Diane: PB calls her his "ex ex wife"! Coming back together has been a nostalgia trip for them and this comes with a bunch of complicated feelings. What makes all different is exactly what Diane herself said in the show: "if they met as the people they are now, things would be totally different". And they surely are different now, even more after spending so many years apart. But different doesn't mean perfect, this they would never be. They still have a couple of fights out of nowhere that Guy is confused about. What changes is that it's, in fact, better. And now they have hope. And they're enjoying finding out once again why they were in love in the first place. It's such an old feeling that they were tricked into believing it's new~
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that-ari-blogger · 4 months
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It's Time
Ok, this song. (This post might be a bit heavy)
Usually, near the end of a musical, there is a quiet, reflective number before the bombastic finale. This is often the final straw for a large percentage of the audience, who find themselves brought to tears by the rest of the story, and this just catalyses it.
Stray Gods: The Role-Playing Musical has two of such songs. Adrift Reprise, and It's Time. I have already done some analysis on the former of those, but It's Time, I left for last.
Let me explain.
SPOILERS AHEAD
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One of the strengths of Stray Gods is its connection. This is a story about a young adult trying to find her place and her purpose. She is adrift, with so many places to go, and she looks to her elders for advice. Surely, they have their lives figured out. Right? But no. I think Apollo says it best at Aphrodite's party.
"We get older, we have more to forget. We hold grudges longer. But wiser? No, not so far."
Stray Gods pulls on very real emotions in its audience, very few people in the audience know where they are going, or what their life will lead them to. So, the themes of fate and choice in this musical become more pertinent. You cannot know what your future will hold without it feeling like a burden, but you can make choices. Good or bad, you can always choose.
This is what the Adrift Reprise number is all about. But there is another almost universal experience that this story hits you with. An emotion that It's Time centres around. Loss.
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The vast majority of humans have lost someone at someone close to them at some point in their lives. As you get older, the chance of this happening only increases. It's an unfortunate fact about being mortal. And here's the thing, in Stray Gods, mortality and immortality are not mutually exclusive.
Everyone in this story is mourning, either the loss of Calliope, or the old Hermes, or Hephestus, or the gods who have gone missing. These idols can live forever, but they can also not. The idols are humans, but more. More powerful, more magical, more experienced, but also more fragile, and more weak, and more weird.
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Persephone's relationship with Calliope is subtle at first, but once you notice it, you see it everywhere. From the portrait of Calliope in Persephone's office, to the anger at her murder, to the immediate switch from avenger to protector the second she clocks on to Grace actually being Calliope's chosen successor.
So, when they finally meet in the underworld, this can either be an aha moment or a surprise, and either works.
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"So many years of history,
The fights, the highs, the miseries,
I'm so proud of you, but it's time to go."
"I never truly saw before,
how trapped we were, how far from shore,
great at the time, but now it's time to go"
In a single verse, two stanzas, this song summarises what could possibly be a centuries long relationship. Tumultuous, but real. For all of their faults, there is a love there. You can see why the relationship broke down, and you know Persephone and Calliope well enough at this point to infer a few more details about that. But you also know that looking back, the connection is still there.
I also want to point out that nautical metaphor again. It links back to Adrift and gets referenced in just about every other song. But the difference now, is who it is aimed at. Usually, Grace is the one being called out for drowning in choices or something similar, but now its Persephone realising just how far out she is, and looking back on her relationship with Calliope, only now can she see where she went wrong. Maybe, if Calliope was still alive, she and this new Persephone could work things out. Now that Persephone isn't obsessing about that throne and can actually admit fault.
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The tragedy is that we will probably never get to find out. Because Calliope is dead, and you can't change that.
But what about something you can change?
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@ohnoitstbskyen has a phenomenal video titled Grief In Art, which I highly recommend you check out. In it, he gives the following summary of the emotion:
"Grief comes with anger, with emptiness. It comes with loneliness and exhaustion and a dozen other complex and multifaceted feelings that all intermix and grind against each other. That's part of why it can be so overwhelming."
I am willing to bet that this isn't a foreign concept to a large percentage of Stray Gods' audience.
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So, tell me, if you were given the chance to bring back a lost loved one, would you take it? It's a complicated question. But if, right now, I told you I could bring back your mother or brother or friend, would you say yes? What price would be too steep? What is the value of a human life? How much would you give?
Personally, I would say yes. To me, every life is unquantifiable, and I would give anything for just a conversation with certain people.
But what about Grace? And what about Freddie?
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There are two ways you can come at It's Time in the musical. Well, three actually, but we'll get there in a moment. You either are following the romance storyline with Freddie, or you are not. And from what I can tell, this song makes no distinction between the two. You bring your own baggage.
"It was quick and so was I,
I was not prepared to die.
But Grace, I choose this,
And I know you'll get by."
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Do you bring Freddie back from the dead? It's possible, and you'd get your happy ending. You can, but should you? That much is up to you.
Actions have consequences, that's kind of the thesis of this story. One consequence of Grace's actions was the death of Freddie. You can undo that, if you want.
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I have played through this game a fair few times at this point, and at this moment, I have gone through both options. If you were to approach this as a simple, numerical question, the answer would be obvious. There is no physical benefit in the game to either decision, so you should do what Freddie says and let her stay dead. The reason this is such a difficult choice is because of the humanity in it.
You know the right choice, to let Freddie stay dead, to not go against her wishes, to not give her the eidolon. Freddie says she is content with her decision, so you should go with that, right?
But are you strong enough to make that choice? I know I wasn't the first time I played this game.
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There is one other element that complicates this, and it's fascinating to me. Because that third approach to this song is retrospect.
What if you have played this game before and brought Freddie back? Then you get Freddie's love confession, and it changes the entire story. It's prophecy, like Apollo warned us about. You know the fate you are trying to achieve, so you take actions against yourself to try and thwart it, essentially locking yourself in that path, whether you like it or not.
Does the promise of a happy ending change your choices here?
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Final Thoughts
There is a reason I left this song until last. It's one of those songs in musical theatre that brings a tear to my eye every time I watch it or listen to it. The instruments, the melody, the fact that this is the only time Grace ever says "Farishta". Everything about this song is amazing.
Next week is my final roundup for Stray Gods, and as a quick reminder, I am putting out a request for your analysis, be it musical or artistic or lyrical. Send me a message, or comment, reblog this post, and I will try to include as many as I can (credited to you, naturally) in the final analysis to build a big picture of what everyone thinks of this musical.
So, stick around if that interests you.
Previous - Next
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i saw the collection of art displayed at the gallery nucleus event and ive been obsessed with these two pictures since so here are some details i noticed:
luz and eda are both wearing that grudgeby jacket, obviously.
Eda’s jacket has a patch on the left elbow when eda is wearing it. this was shown in the show as well. luz’s left elbow isn’t shown but we can assume the patch is still there.
luz, however, has a patch on her right elbow, which was where she tore the sleeve during the belos fight in king’s tide. we can assume hunter probably patched it up.
lilith and eda seem to have discovered their fashion taste in their teens and stuck with it to this day. lilith is in a similar long skirt and boots to what she wears in the show, and eda has the spiky/torn style dress look. guess she later decided to wear similar shoes to lilith though.
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speaking of shoes though raine honey what are you wearing,,,, are those ,,,shoelaces tied around your socks??? that can’t be comfortable or easy to get on/off,,,was this a fashion trend in their time???
gus’s shirt looks like it was two different shirts sewn into one shirt. i assume hunter did that for him too
gus is also still wearing two watches on one wrist and probably wearing the third on his other. boi’s got drip
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vee’s got an anklet. I wonder if this is an allusion to the ring on her tail in her basilisk form?
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luz has the portal key and a king-shaped keychain on her belt. does that mean they’ll end the show with her having a new portal so she can live in both worlds? that seems to be what the show is building towards
amity’s hair faded in season 3 and her roots were growing back but i think in here she redyed her hair to be a bright pink like before? i definitely don’t see her roots anymore. similarly i think willow has just been consistently dyeing that green streak
darius’s cape looks a lot like the golden guard’s. or just the emperor coven’s cape in general. his boots also look like the standard issue EC uniform ones. in fact, his whole outfit looks like a more casual emperor coven uniform. this adds fuel to my theory that he was being mentored by the golden guard to join the emperor’s coven, and when his mentor died, it shattered his trust in the EC which led to him joining the abomination coven instead. (why else would you get one of the top ranking officials of the emperor coven to mentor you, if not to join the coven itself?)
lilith and vee both have cute stylized backpacks and perry has a fanny pack, all of them shaped like demons. vee’s backpack is shaped like her (with a matching hoodie i think?), and because of the visible stitches, i will once again assume hunter made it for her. i will assume hunter did everything sewing-related for the hexsquad. love is stored in the hunter sewing project
in contrast to lilith, perry, and vee, alador’s bag is plain and practical. idk what this says about the characterization of these four but im sure it says something
everyone in the old hexsquad has their own style but alador is in his hexside uniform. again, very practical but he doesn’t seem to care enough about appearance (or hygiene considering he’s covered in abomination goo) to pursue anything beyond practicality
eda’s knee is scraped up. while this and the bandage on her face are probably supposed to indicate that she gets up to trouble a lot id like to think it’s also referencing the pain sharing spell she and lilith did in that scene of them as kids
hunter DEFINITELY did not dress himself those shoes are way too snazzy. darius sees him trying to leave the house in socks and sandals and has an aneurysm
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ppl mentioned how willow’s wearing an emerald entrails shirt but also! she has painted nails! i’d like to think amity painted them for her. first amity does her braids and now she paints her nails she is rekindling their friendship one makeover at a time
hunter wears glasses now. i guess after like 8 head injuries, a possession, and two eye color changes he’d have some trouble with his eyesight.
willow has discovered novelty glasses. she seems to be seeing fine so i assume they’re also prescription glasses, which is harder to get in cool shapes. did they get those in the human world or did the boiling isles already have them? or better, after the show they introduce the concept of novelty glasses to the boiling isles. i’d like to think gus gets his dad a pair in that scenario. and eda gets raine a pair
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hunter’s jacket has so many references on it to his new family i- 🥺 🥺 🥺 he has a wing patch for flapjack, an abomination with a ponytail for darius, a king patch for king (let them interact in the rest of season 3!!! please!!!), what seems to be the badge eda gives people for leaving their covens, and a flower probably for willow. seemingly no patches for luz, gus, amity, or vee. or the emerald entrails. though he could have more patches on the front of his jacket.
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trans hunter real
luz’s hairstyle with the front bangs swept back looks a lot like eda’s hairstyle but curlier. probably just the widow’s peak though
hunter is still rocking that mullet. i know even if they change his hair in a later episode they won’t spoil it in the art here. still even though i know why hunter didn’t want long hair i liked his longer hair + hair skrungly design better than his short hair design
the new hexsquad is dressed in a significantly more human style than the old hexsquad. seeing how luz has a portal key (idk if its real or just a charm), amity retouched her roots, and hunter has a jacket of patches referencing his 86 adopted family members, i would assume this shot of them is post-canon. guess luz takes her friends on another trip to the thrift store
(i know this specific scene where the new and old hexsquad check each other out is impossible temporally within canon what i mean is the hexsquad’s look is most likely something they’ll whip up post canon than during canon)
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willows pants have similar flowers on it as the flower patch on hunter’s jacket. the vine design and stitching around the flowers probably mean that they just came with a flower design when willow got it. however i headcanon that willow got hunter a bunch of flower shaped patches and he put one on his jacket. but later willow got a pair of those fashionably ripped jeans and left them somewhere where hunter found it. and when willow gets back hunter has used the rest of his his flower patches to patch up the rips in willows pants and sewed some stitching around the patches to make them look prettier. because he doesn’t understand why someone would wear ripped jeans on purpose. it’s like that one textpost with luz except it’s with willow. she can’t even be mad at him.
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forbidden-sunlight · 2 years
Text
Pink Venom
yandere! Calix Rochester x Loure!reader headcanons [I’m a villainess but I became a mother]
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warning: spoilers from the manhwa, obsessive behavior, implied sexual references and implied references to k-pop music. Please take caution.
Note: this is a work of fiction with the intention of entertainment purposes only. The behavior exhibited here is inappropriate and unhealthy, hence it should not be encouraged. Special thanks to @soleilician and @d10nsaint for their feedback during the drafting phase. 
So without further ado, let the show begin! :)
Calix Rochester. Everyone in the Eclair mansion had assumed that it was a matter of fact that you knew the name of your fiance because the engagement had already been announced, hence why you cried upon first meeting him. But that was not the truth at all. Quote the opposite. 
The only reason you knew the identity of this young boy is because who wouldn’t recognize the male lead of a shitty romance novel you read in your past life? Definitely not you, who had bought the book series with your hard-earned money in another life at a friend’s passionate recommendation before it all came to an abrupt end thanks to a speeding truck at an intersection on a rainy afternoon. If you were given the choice, however, you’d do it all over again. You couldn’t have lived with yourself if that little kid had gotten hit instead of you. 
Anyway, back to the matter at hand: the boy you were now engaged to. In the future, Calix Rochester would inherit his family’s duchy and rise to become a prominent figure in the Empire. He was arranged to be married to Loure Eclair, share one passionate night with her and then dump her for the saintly female lead. 
To sum it up, he was scum. A piece of trash who did not care about his fiancee and divorced Loure so he could deepen his relationship with the woman who had stolen his heart. Uh-huh. Right. 
He might not have cared for Loure, but damn it all, this was your new identity. The villainess in a novel that had so much potential before it recycled so many old tropes and cliches in the last two books that it had made your head spin. Hell, even you could have written better fanfiction than this garbage! 
Yes, you were a fandom writer and proud of it. Shush. 
Now fully aware of the fate that lied ahead of you, there is no way that you would allow yourself to become enthralled with Calix if he was just going to dump your sorry ass once the female lead arrived. That’s a recipe for heartbreak and unnecessary drama, which you really didn't need again in this lifetime, thank you very much!
Plus, in this world there were young women who would secretly write sensual novels for money and even attend masked soirees to recite the aforementioned tales in front of an all-ladies audience.  Do you hear money or did you hear the crowd asking for an encore? Heck yes. 
You had a plan. Now all you needed to do was dive head first into the well of creativity and start zero drafting some ideas. There is the saying that nothing is ever original in art, but you would not stoop so low as to steal the stories from your own world and publish them here under your name. 
Plagiarism is plagiarism no matter what the isekai manga have said or did. And it was about time for you to step out of your comfort zone for the sake of your own survival. You’d figure it all out as you went along.
Still…what could you do about Calix? As much as you wanted to stay as far away from him as possible, he is your fiancee now.  But isn’t there a saying in your old world, to kill someone with kindness?
As much as you wanted to not marry him and avoid being burnt at the stake for trying to kill the female lead, this was a political arrangement between your respective families. You could not simply beg your father to call off the engagement unless there is enough evidence to appeal to the emperor that the Rochester’s heir was an unfit match for the Eclair’s only daughter.  The love affair between the main characters would not happen until after you turned eighteen. Twelve years from now. 
There was no choice but to go along with it. Shutting his invitation for outings would only make him more persistent.  
So you will have to play along; be cordial, be pleasant, and all that jazz. Furthermore…you’ll have to open with Calix. Letting yourself be vulnerable around someone who would cast you aside in the near future….it sucks. But you were not going to experience the misunderstanding troupe, thank you very much. Communication, in any relationship, is crucial. 
You were going to be honest with the male lead, even if it might kill you in the end.
Time flew by quickly. Lessons in the morning, tea in the afternoon, and writing manuscripts until late at night for your maid to secretly spirit them to the publishing house you worked for under the pseudonym Black Rabbit. It was a comfortable cycle, and you were delighted to see your hard work being paid in gold coins with an occasional participation at a literary soiree. 
Of course, you spent some time with Calix, watching a performance at the opera house or dining out at a fancy restaurant.  He was a courteous gentleman in public, appearing as a man who adored his fiancee very much. And that is what is bothering you. 
In accordance with the original storyline, he never once shared any concern towards Loure Eclair. She had been his fiancee in name, nothing more. He minded his own business until the female lead arrived and turned his dull, gray world into a kaleidoscope of vibrant colors. And yes, that is a direct, gag-worthy quote from the novel. However, in this timeline, he showed concern. 
He smiled at you, laughed, cheeks flushed a bright pink or red. He was the sweetest man in your presence. And that bothered you a lot. It shouldn’t have, in fact, you should have felt relieved that your actions had changed the course of the novel for the better. 
So why was your gut telling you that this was all an act? A mask he wore to keep you close until he would cast you aside for the female lead? You didn’t like it. Not one damned bit. 
 It looked like you were going to have another talk with him, again. You already asked him to be honest. Pleaded to speak his mind. Get angry with you, damn it, don’t just smile!
 Why does he keep acting like this, as if he were afraid of you? It’s supposed to be the other way around, you being afraid of being abandoned by him? You already voiced your concerns about it, how many more times do you have to repeat yourself?!
So, you sat down with him and talked about it. A heart-to-heart conversation that ended with a promise to do better.  Although it went better than you initially thought…why did it seem like the novel’s plot was about to deviate even further?
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From the moment he met the pink-haired girl known as Loure Eclair on a sunny afternoon, Calix’s initial thought had been the following: she was adorable. Even when she cried out to the servant that she did not want to marry him, being betrothed to her had made him incredibly happy.
At first, she kept her distance from him. But then, slowly, very slowly, she began to open up. She told him what she liked, what she disliked, and some of her hobbies. She had even gotten feisty on occasion, growling in annoyance like a puppy baring its fangs. 
So cute. He thought. Every expression she wore was absolutely charming. She seemed more real to him than the image of an ethereal fairy princess waiting to be swept off of her feet by a knight in shining armor. 
He cherished these small moments when Loure opened herself up to him as much as he cherished the time that they spent together.  As the heir to his father’s duchy, Calix could not go out very often with his fiancee and spoil her, much to his annoyance.
 But Loure understood. She reminded him to take care of himself and not work too hard, occasionally sending over some sweets from a famous bakery to cheer him up. He still kept the ribbons of those pastry boxes in his desk. 
When he wasn’t by her side, his servants kept an eye on her. Imagine his surprise when he discovered that she was a writer. Not just any writer, but the infamous Black Rabbit herself! The harlequin whose words enraptured the hearts of young maidens and books flew off the shelves as soon as they were available. 
Calix did not spare any expense in purchasing all of Loure’s books. They were not just for his own amusement; he read them as well, devouring one novel after another. His beloved was incredibly talented, there was no doubt about it…but why put in so much effort when they were to be married soon? Once she becomes his wife, she will have enough money to be comfortable for three generations even after shopping in the capital’s shops. 
When he asked her one evening after attending a piano recital, she flinched. Flinched, in his presence, when he would never dare to harm a single hair on her head. He did not like that at all. But he sat in silence, hearing their carriage rattle beneath the cobblestoned streets before she made an unlikely confession.
Yes, she enjoyed writing novels…but it was also a failsafe. A nest egg in case something happened to her father’s estate…or their engagement. She was afraid of being abandoned with nowhere to go. That was the truth.
Why? He thought. Why would she even think of such a thing, when all she had ever done is shown him kindness? It was unbelievable. And yet…the confession made him so happy. Elated he had discovered another secret of hers, building up the trust between them. It made her even more desirable to him. 
Ah, he wanted them to be married soon.  He wanted to wake up every morning by her side, seeing things that he would never let another man see. 
No, no. He cannot think like that. Loure had made it clear to him that she was not interested in another man. That was one of their many conversations that they had when he got jealous of someone being near his woman. 
He had nothing to worry about. Yes, there were men she had to meet, investors and representatives from the publishing house. But that’s all there was to it. Just business. 
Hmm…perhaps he could purchase a failing business and turn it into a publishing house under his name? It wasn’t a bad idea. He’ll ask her when she comes to visit him for tea. 
First, he needed to have a small chat with the crowned prince. That brute believed because he was the heir to the throne that he was entitled to take any woman as he pleased, including his Loure. 
She belonged to him, as his heart and soul belonged to her.  He had been infected with the sweet pink venom known as ‘love’. 
A love so brutal that he would not allow anyone to touch his beloved. Royalty or not. 
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