Heyo, I'm Glitchy (he/they), I'm an old queer who likes fiction and video games. I write and doodle sometimes. I've been on this damned site since 2011.
[AO3] [Bsky] [Ko-Fi]
Current obsessions: Fallen Hero, Wayfarer, Critical Role, SWTOR
[My Writing tag] [My Art tag]
My asks are open, I love getting ask games, prompts, questions or just telling me about your ocs. 🧡
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Little drabble of what I think running into Sentinel at Ortega's birthday might be like for Tegan. 823 words, no warnings.
Coming here was a mistake. You knew Ortega's birthday party would draw a crowd and though your shields are stronger than they've ever been, its still a claustrophobic kind of feeling with so many minds pressed against your own. Like bass that drowns out the music in an already loud room. You get just the briefest hint of a familiar presence before the owners voice cuts through the din.
"Tegan!" Sentinel, though you suppose it's just Luis now, calls out, working his way through the crowd towards you. So much for anonymity, there's no way other's here didn't hear your name and you silently curse him while raising your drink in greeting. He stops a few steps away from you, respecting your personal space. Your reputation for being prickly must still be intact that he doesn't go in for a hug or a handshake. Of that you're grateful but he still looks you up and down in a scrutinizing way that does little more than piss you off.
"Been a while, though you look like you're dressed for a funeral instead of a birthday party." He gestures to your black suit with the drink in his hand. "Looks like you finally got a bit of style over the years though." His smile is warm and friendly. Friendlier than it should be for you, maybe retirement and fatherhood have softened some of his edges.
"Looks like all you got was old." You're not sure what your smile looks like, rusty as it is, it's hard to remember how you two used to banter. At least your reputation for being as asshole has always served you well. Either people backed off, or your barbs stung less because they were expected. With nearly a decade separating the last time you exchanged words, you have no idea how he'll take it.
He laughs.
"Now you see, I'm not sensitive about that like Ortega is." He places his hand over his chest in a gesture of mock sincerity. It only makes you snort. You still haven't run into the guest of honor yet but you know the process of finding him would be going a lot faster if you weren't being waylaid by old acquaintances.
Luis takes a step closer to you, a little too far into your space for comfort but you can't back up without looking like you're trying to run. You promised yourself you were done running. You stare into your drink and pretend not to notice the intrusion. Or the uneasy feeling in your gut. It's probably the crowd, the noise.
"I'm not sentimental the way Ortega is, either."
You're eyes snap up at the sudden change in his tone and you notice his smile is gone, replaced by a look you thought you'd long forgotten. This is Sentinel, they way he looked on the job.
The way he looked when facing a threat.
Even just scratching the surface, his mind is intensely guarded, his thoughts obscured within the eye of a storm that you would have to fight through to push deeper. It would only prove that you are a threat to even try.
He takes another step towards you, far too close, voice lowered so that only you would hear.
"And I'm not particularly forgiving."
Fuck! What does he know? What could he know? Short of Ortega blabbing to every old friend he has that he knows you're Retribution you don't see how that's possible and you can at least give Ortega that much credit for your mutual self preservation.
You recall the feeling of being watched when you had left Parkfield, the faintest glimpse of movement in the sky. Had he been watching you? For how long? Why? You left Parkfield as a civilian. Does he have other sources of information? What does he know? Paranoia claws at you nerves like nails against chalk board.
No, calm down, stand your ground. He doesn't have any proof. Or if he does its not the kind of proof he can use without calling his own motives into question. He's not like Ortega, or even Chen, Luis would deal with you before you became a threat, not after. There's something staying his hand. For now.
"So what are you saying?" You shrug, leaning back on one foot to appear nonchalant, unrattled. You can see by the quick dart of his eyes that he doesn't interpret the move as a precursor to an attack. All the old instincts are still there.
"I'm saying," He moves to your shoulder, as if he were pushing past you to mingle with the rest of the guests, voice barely above a whisper. "If you're here to start shit, I'll end it." His words are pointed, like a knife between the ribs.
He claps you on the shoulder far harder than necessary. "Enjoy the party. Quietly." He leaves you no room to respond before he's shifting through the crowd again.
You down the rest of your drink in one go. Coming here was a mistake.
The current rash of scam comments on Ao3 have really been pissing me off. You report one, another takes its place, with AI generated summaries of your fic and a shady ass discord link as their hook.
But I will tell you, nothing and I mean nothing can prepare you for having your own smut AI regurgitated back at you as a scam. Its so bad.
Like cool thanks I'm glad the plagiarism machine enjoyed my fic of Ortega jorkin it. Really.
Ugh looks like the fic comment bots are on tumblr too, feel free to report/block @/monicapeterson, I just got an AI generated summary comment for ch 4 of boyt. That my fics are being run thru chat gpt or something in an effort to scam me is not what I wanted to wake up to.
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even if theyre only somewhat organized in chronological orderquite proud of my playlists for sura and juno and puppetmortum/mortumstep soooo
sura playlist (a bit eclectic but i like my motifs abt performance/desire for love and attention and unreality in there)
juno playlist (the sabrina carpenter song is partly a joke lol. bits and pieces about ace, i found Two fitting songs called sucker lol)
junolene/suralene playlist (ok this one's out of order fr but too bad by sophie truax (thank you idle), heaven in hiding by halsey, this hell by rina sawayama, and those nights by bastille are the highlights - latter for the "and i do want you. for my sins" line that makes me go feral every time)
fuck it suraric (and sorta junoric) aka torment that old man playlist too. largely angst/bitter anger
some comments: oh no by marina is on both sura's and juno's playlist cos it's my ultimate juno and sura song whenever i think about them
If you are not very careful
Your possessions will possess you
TV taught me how to feel
Now real life has no appeal
It has no appeal
It has no appeal
It has no appeal
It has no appeal
It has no appeal
I know exactly what I want and who I want to be
I know exactly why I walk and talk like a machine
I'm now becoming my own self-fulfilled prophecy
Oh, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh
perfectly blends sura's neuroses about identity and ambition with the cuckoo thing along with the disconnect w/ people and the puppetstuck situation
you first by paramore too
Everyone is a bad guy
And there's no way, no way to know
Who's the worst
Karma's gonna come for all of us
And I hope, well, I hope, I just hope
She comes, comes for you first, oh
Which wolf wins?
I guess it really depends, just gotta wait and see
Which one's appetite's the biggest?
Turns out I'm living in a horror film
Where I'm both the killer and the final girl
So who, who are you?
like yup this is definitely identity issues imposter stuff and being hunted by impostergos
and more recently alice by lady gaga (which is a bop btw pls listen to it) which is very puppetstuck to me even if there's not a lot to say
Could you pull me out of this alive?
(Ah, ah, ah, oh, ah, ah, ah)
Where's my body? I'm stuck in my mind
(Ah, ah, ah, oh, ah, ah, ah)
(Oh ma-ma-ma, oh ma-ma-ma)
I'm tired of screaming
(Oh-ma-ma-ma, oh-ma-ma-ma)
At the top of my lungs
(Oh my mother, oh my mother)
I'm in the hole, I'm falling down, down
So down, down
The current rash of scam comments on Ao3 have really been pissing me off. You report one, another takes its place, with AI generated summaries of your fic and a shady ass discord link as their hook.
But I will tell you, nothing and I mean nothing can prepare you for having your own smut AI regurgitated back at you as a scam. Its so bad.
Like cool thanks I'm glad the plagiarism machine enjoyed my fic of Ortega jorkin it. Really.
Little drabble of what I think running into Sentinel at Ortega's birthday might be like for Tegan. 823 words, no warnings.
Coming here was a mistake. You knew Ortega's birthday party would draw a crowd and though your shields are stronger than they've ever been, its still a claustrophobic kind of feeling with so many minds pressed against your own. Like bass that drowns out the music in an already loud room. You get just the briefest hint of a familiar presence before the owners voice cuts through the din.
"Tegan!" Sentinel, though you suppose it's just Luis now, calls out, working his way through the crowd towards you. So much for anonymity, there's no way other's here didn't hear your name and you silently curse him while raising your drink in greeting. He stops a few steps away from you, respecting your personal space. Your reputation for being prickly must still be intact that he doesn't go in for a hug or a handshake. Of that you're grateful but he still looks you up and down in a scrutinizing way that does little more than piss you off.
"Been a while, though you look like you're dressed for a funeral instead of a birthday party." He gestures to your black suit with the drink in his hand. "Looks like you finally got a bit of style over the years though." His smile is warm and friendly. Friendlier than it should be for you, maybe retirement and fatherhood have softened some of his edges.
"Looks like all you got was old." You're not sure what your smile looks like, rusty as it is, it's hard to remember how you two used to banter. At least your reputation for being as asshole has always served you well. Either people backed off, or your barbs stung less because they were expected. With nearly a decade separating the last time you exchanged words, you have no idea how he'll take it.
He laughs.
"Now you see, I'm not sensitive about that like Ortega is." He places his hand over his chest in a gesture of mock sincerity. It only makes you snort. You still haven't run into the guest of honor yet but you know the process of finding him would be going a lot faster if you weren't being waylaid by old acquaintances.
Luis takes a step closer to you, a little too far into your space for comfort but you can't back up without looking like you're trying to run. You promised yourself you were done running. You stare into your drink and pretend not to notice the intrusion. Or the uneasy feeling in your gut. It's probably the crowd, the noise.
"I'm not sentimental the way Ortega is, either."
You're eyes snap up at the sudden change in his tone and you notice his smile is gone, replaced by a look you thought you'd long forgotten. This is Sentinel, they way he looked on the job.
The way he looked when facing a threat.
Even just scratching the surface, his mind is intensely guarded, his thoughts obscured within the eye of a storm that you would have to fight through to push deeper. It would only prove that you are a threat to even try.
He takes another step towards you, far too close, voice lowered so that only you would hear.
"And I'm not particularly forgiving."
Fuck! What does he know? What could he know? Short of Ortega blabbing to every old friend he has that he knows you're Retribution you don't see how that's possible and you can at least give Ortega that much credit for your mutual self preservation.
You recall the feeling of being watched when you had left Parkfield, the faintest glimpse of movement in the sky. Had he been watching you? For how long? Why? You left Parkfield as a civilian. Does he have other sources of information? What does he know? Paranoia claws at you nerves like nails against chalk board.
No, calm down, stand your ground. He doesn't have any proof. Or if he does its not the kind of proof he can use without calling his own motives into question. He's not like Ortega, or even Chen, Luis would deal with you before you became a threat, not after. There's something staying his hand. For now.
"So what are you saying?" You shrug, leaning back on one foot to appear nonchalant, unrattled. You can see by the quick dart of his eyes that he doesn't interpret the move as a precursor to an attack. All the old instincts are still there.
"I'm saying," He moves to your shoulder, as if he were pushing past you to mingle with the rest of the guests, voice barely above a whisper. "If you're here to start shit, I'll end it." His words are pointed, like a knife between the ribs.
He claps you on the shoulder far harder than necessary. "Enjoy the party. Quietly." He leaves you no room to respond before he's shifting through the crowd again.
You down the rest of your drink in one go. Coming here was a mistake.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
my fav relationship ship dynamic is where it doesn't matter if you call it platonic or romantic or queerplatonic because they always act the same in every type of relationship. and the way they act? fucking weird.