#a lot has happened the past year and this is the first time ive drawn something in months

[transmascemails]

"Here Lies Poor Old Copia"

[urautismdiagnosis-wistie]

Kwazii design Take 1 (plus Kobb!)

Edit: this design of kwazii is so old 💀

sorry if my info seems wack I'm only now just starting to catch up to above and beyond lol

{ LONG POST BUT IT DOES INCLUDE SOME HEADCANONS ABOUT KWAZII AND HOW HE JOINS THE OCTONAUTS}

Ok so I'm gonna be honest this is from like 2 weeks ago when I was first getting back into the octonauts hyper fixation and the way I've drawn kwazii Has Changed since then but its still pretty close lol

Btw, that's Kobb, someone from his "mysterious pirate past" loll. His name is Kobb because its inspired from Japanese Kobolds, Hes a doberman.

He comes off as a guy with very quiet and threatening aura full of silent intense states, but really he's a sweetheart. He's not very talkative, but he adores children (knew kwazii since he was a kitten) and is the type to take the blame to keep others safe. He's really a shantyman, (I'll have to dump all my pirate lore and how it works in the octonauts universe in another post, I'll link it when I do) and that doesn't just mean like singing songs, but also communication of ship orders via long distance with flags, whistles, howls, and such.

He also knows how to work a canon :)

INFODUMP ON KWAZII HERE:

I would give kwazii some sick pirate earrings and all that jazz, but honestly dude lets be real there be BARACUDAS and YEAH.

He switches his eye patch between his eyes because apparently pirates mightve used em to effectively train their eyes to see in the dark better? Very cool to me, so for below deck and night raids which makes sense. The smudged eyeliner is also just Kohl, which is an old thing that alot people still use because they believe it improves the health and vision of the eyes. Makes extra sense when I remember cats see in the dark lol.

Kwazii was a bit of a lookout in his preteen years and such.

Ive got a lot of ideas and like genuine plot for the octonauts in general so I'll have to make a list and post em one by one.

Basic timeline for kwazii though (Im explaining how pirates work in this universe on another post) so kwaziis born into a pirate clan and well his grandad was the captain and all that jazz. He's raised with em and gets the Pirate Education of reading, math, navigation, Pirate Battle Tactics, Pirate Politics, how to bribe sea life, how to stab and no be stabbed, steering boats, water currents and maps, How To Survive If ShipWrecked, and etc.

All cool, all silly pirate times for our ADHD kitty, around age 10 is when calico jack left in my timeline, (also y'all I'm just now getting to watching above and beyond so if I mess stuff up gimme some grace please :'> ), and they expected the guy to come back a year or two after satisfying the treasure itch but he just... didn't.

3 or so years later, some drama happens in the crew happens and eventually kwazii ends up going solo at the age of 13, (he wants to get treasure and adventure just like his grandad,maybe even find him!) its pretty rough at first and the most social interaction he gets is sea life or just people at ports he visits lol. He does successfully hunt out treasure (and bully unethical fishermen, he and the dolphin pod are still great friends) and etc. He even found an abandoned lighthouse on an island (weird, but hey! free pirate hideout) and he was just living like that till he ended up meeting none other than captain barnacles!

The thing is the octonauts were like like getting a crew together at all, and the only one that was really there (other than tweak and the prof) was shellington and well. Needless to say they're understaffed lmso.

So barnacles has been chasing this dolphin pod, well he tried to nicely ask if he could tag some of em for scientific purposes but well, they thought it was a game and now they're convinced they're playing tag. Of course the captain still isn't experienced in Being An Octonaut, and well gup A might end up getting wrecked by some rocks he crashes into. And then he's just stranded on the rocks above the waves and oh wow did you know that the land above the water is even hotter than the water?

Anyways he's just melting and questioning his life choices because, like what's he supposed to do wait for tweak to pedal to him on the gup f 😫🙏like be for real man that must've suuuuccked

anyways he just sees this tiny boat with this even tinier guy on it??? sailing to him???

(sorry if they sound outta character lol)

"Oh... H-HhhIiiii"

"Y'know them phins told me some big furry thing crashed but I didn't expect it to be- You alright big fella?"

"mM nO I think.. YeAhp, Im ALL GO ooOD."

"Ive got shade and water?"

Oh sh- fr? " Thank you tiny man"

"Awh man ya don't even got a wallet on ya, oh well."

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

"So are you still a beached whale or ah?"

"I-I'm fine, thank you I simply, well I'm feeling better I just need you to drop me off at this location."

"Y'sure you're not still about t' feed the fish? On accounta all o the uh, squiffy looks ye have?"

At this point barnacles is just doubly wondering what his life is, because either he's still under the effects of overheating or this guy has said "me clipper" in reference to his boat 3 times already. He was actually very grateful but honestly was this guy even real???

"I... don't think so?"

"M yeah yeah, so what's a walkin Nothern whale even doin out here?"

Was that an insult or- No he seems far too friendly- If a bit rough, maybe scraggly looking-

After a very lengthy, educated explanation of his goal and dreams of the octonauts and all they would accomplish- He'd realized the cat had been stared at him with the biggest blankest eyes he'd ever seen-

And then in a second they snapped to clarity-

"OHHHHHHHH- so yer like, some sorta ah, sciency type... a nerd ha! Well alright that's nice for ya"

The ginger cat didn't even have an ounce of mocking in his tone either- He was really just stating a fact. He really hoped he seemed like a strong dependable nerd at least. ᴹᵃʸᵇᵉ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵃ ˡᶦᵗᵗˡᵉ ʰᵉʳᵒᶦᶜ⁻

They'd bid farewell. A stranger helped a stranger and that was the end.

Or it wouldve been until he'd been struggling to find some little sea creatures in a reef and he'd just so happened to come across a certain cocky cat. Of course, the guy was happy to help, he was friends with the little critters after all!

Silly fun little coincidence and wow kwazii sure is decently good with this haha well good bye (again)-

They meet again and this time Kwaziis boat has been absolutely wrecked. And wow captain you're not really gonna wreck a poor pirates boat (one who helped ya plenty) to just suffer when your whole motto is explore RESCUE protect are ya?

So until Kwazii could get to his safe spot, (an abandoned lighthouse he turned into his own 'secret pirate base') to repair the thing, he was... kinda just stuck in the octopod.

And well- He was grateful, and very very curious, being cat and all that.

He'd never dove so deep into the water before! And he certainly hadn't ever seen such cute curious creatures as the (admittedly very young at the time) vegimals, and well of course he'd help Tweak try out the new speedy gup she was makin, anythin to help around-

By the time they get there well.... Barnacles has realized that Kwazii is well, Kwazii is kind of the exact person he'd been struggling to find.

Quick to learn, quicker to act, understood navigation and sea currents, gifted at diving, capable of steering subs well, crafty when dealing with the unique challenges of dealing with sea life and-

Well, he was also possibly a very good and kind friend. A strange one, but well, a very very good one.

They were about to say good bye, but well, the captain lamented on how he hoped kwazii would have good luck with treasure hunting, and he well maybe he kinda hoped he'd find someone at least half as good as him to help.

And well, who said he couldn't be a pirate AND an octonaut? Since the captain, you know, really needed the help- BESIDES, he probably had a way better of finding treasure when going UNDER the water- AND WELL, what pirate could say no to adventure and-

And kwazii was not a legally recognized citizen of any country so he couldn't legally become an octonaut.

Getting legal documentation for a lone pirate cat he'd met in the middle of the ocean wasn't on the captains bingo card. At least he... sort of knew what taxes were....

"Well what's your place of birth at least?!"

"Uhhh I dunno, a boat?"

"Okay- But, But w he r e ?"

"The ocean, matie???"

"In what waters though? Like- Like near what country???"

"... I dunno just like, the middle 'o it?"

"Kwazii I cant put "the middle of the ocean" as your place of birth!"

"Why not? its true-"

A very fun process for everyone that didn't include long wait times or long explanations of why on earth aren't you legal anywhere- or even shorter "explanations" of thats what makes a mysterious pirate past mysterious me heartie

anyways my brain is broken have fun lol

also I finally finished captain barnacles drawing today lol I'll post later

[top10bigchungus]

found some older (2-4 years old) art that for once i dont feel like throwing up when seeing. havent drawn in a while and ive defo kinda forgotton how 2 draw like i tried doing some simple sketches but all of them were uhm shit.

starting off with some honkai (impact) drawings (sorry for being a gachaslop fan, childhood and autism were not kind to me) idk what order theyre showing up so i maybe will add like a description or whatevs if u wanna know like some thought processes type shit

BRO there was one cute but wonky sakura that DIDNT SEND (wifi so bad here i couldnt upload from mobile i had to email these to myself and then download to upload cuz idfk what happened) but oh well sorry my goat sakura

anyways we move onto the masa works design shit (god was not kind), im posting these more seperate because i was actually somewhat creative that summer a few years ago. heres uguisu baita (slapper of a song), i really liked the concept of being able to pick up the drawing to move it around kinda in the style of the pv so i went through actual effort for this ( and the next peice). i dyed the back piece of paper using tea bags (im a tea drinker britain has influenced me), and then drew the drawings on a paper which i then cut out to their sillhoette. even if its not much and the drawings are kinda ass i LOVE the concept i really did have joy seeing these so fuck yeah i defo would do shit like this again

and here mentalism maria, done in the same style as above. i once again REALLY REALLY REALLY love this one like these were so fun to make, didnt finish the concept unfortunately (as seen in pic 2) but putting all the chains n shit on the paper was super fun. process was the same but i tried to draw the background (its dogshit), idk what the random pieces of paper wouldve been for but theyre there ig

last of the masa shit, any comments on individual drawings r made on them, aside from the ban nen one. this was going to be the third fanwork in the style of the prev 2 but with the shards seen in the image of the pv standing out (now that i think about it the random extra papers on mentalism maria were probably for that) but i never finished it past the drawing. really like the face of it though

and finally, miscallenous. i think the first one was enstars i drew for my friend but i lowkey dunno thats my guess, second im guessing was an oc/persona kinda deal (i dont look like that i look worse) and im fr not sure what was going on i cannot tell you tf its actually meant to be

n e ways you could probably find a lot of my older shit floating around since i was severely terminally online a few years ago (i wouldnt be surprised if the 5 year anni of me quitting being terminally online spontaneously is this year but i actually erased a lot of that shit from my mind) it was not a good time for me though and ive grown a lot since those times so please never really bring that shit up please and thank you and good bye i know all of it looks ass but what can i say im just an ass artist

[variousqueerthings]

so i watched cobra kai

and i started writing a whole post about the good, the bad, and the "idk is this too personal an approach to the show?" and then got to a point and realised "nah, life is actually too short" so what im doing instead is just a little bit of what i feel upon its having ended, in a positive light:

i watched the karate kid movies because of this show and those movies and characters mean an awful awful lot to me. daniel larusso moving and having trouble fitting in and finding someone like miyagi who takes him under his wing, well... kid-me would've liked that to have happened. we all deserve someone like mr miyagi. and likewise mr miyagi was found by daniel (in fact, arguably, daniel is the one who initiates their relationship in multiple ways). it's never too late to face the things that have hurt you in whatever way that means. the past is not forever. good things can arrive at any point in our lives (sometimes in the shape of a mouthy italian kid)

cobra kai now is the place where i first became more embedded in a fandom. so far in my life ive never been as closely involved in a fandom as for cobra kai on such a long timeframe -- it may not seem long compared to some things, and i myself have other works that started far earlier and will probably last for a much longer time, but this show felt like being a part of a community and it takes a lot for me to feel close like that. i wrote a whole darn screenplay with a person i met because i started watching cobra kai. i made, i believe, some permanent fandom friends whom i am also watching other things with and simply sharing pieces of our lives with one another. i ran an event for four years (first year on my own, don't.... don't do that.... even though it was fun..... don't....) and i became way more confident in my fic writing. i was just more present and there is nothing so far that has compared, and even if something one day does, cobra kai fandom will always be the benchmark

as for the show itself, i enjoyed the themes it presented (including the ones id argue it had no idea what to do with). i enjoyed the characters, and i especially came to enjoy the new characters whom i initially wasn't watching for at all. they had something interesting to poke at, and they carried the legacy of the OG characters really well and im excited for them to have great careers. xolo mariduena, i cannot help but mention as a standout. feels like ive watched him grow up, it's proud picture-taking vibes all around

want to give a special shout-out to the woman/girls of this story, who i think have an awful lot of depth that has yet to be properly mined into and drawn out in transformative works. from sam -- who on the one hand remained throughout the clearest inheritor of daniel's major themes and came out of the story as someone who would have made miyagi proud (and certainly made me go "that's my girl!"), but who never got to explore the themes of (enforced) femininity and the boxes she was consistently (on a meta level) never given the opportunity to break out of -- to characters like carmen, who has so much past and character, but was ultimately pushed in her entirety into "you made me better and you'll be a great mother" as her sole purpose within the main story, to kim da-eun who was a standout of the latter seasons (in my top three reasons not to write them off) and whose story in no way feels finished, to zara, a villain who was never quite given the chance to be perceived as villainous as she really was (that narrative with robby was... yikes... but it could've been a really interesting exploration and it still can!) or on the flipside/additionally given more depth like her co-fighter axel was -- aisha (my sweet aisha), devon, tory, moon and yasmin (who personally became more interesting to me once we got to have more female characters on the show to contrast their presence, but who read to me like meta-level beards who deserve to be explored as doing... more), rosa diaz, amanda, cousin vanessa, laura lawrence, shannon, -- the kumiko, ali, jessica, and lucille cameos... im sure there's someone ive forgotten, but these were all very fun characters who all deserved a little-to-a-lot-more than what they were offered in the show. but im glad to have spent time with them. certainly they've made me think a lot more about the powers of lesbianism to straighten out (as it were) a narrative

im pleased i got to spend more time with kreese and silver. two of my favourite villains of all time. thank you for bringing TIG out of retirement like that. thank you for sexy old man kove. thank you for the toxic yaoi. these writers may not have known what they had, but we sure fuckn did!

i hope, more than anything else, that ralph macchio and billy zabka enjoyed this sojourn down memory lane. while it's harder for me to talk about their characters without a little bit of bitterness, because ultimately their original story was the one i felt got mangled in some of the choices of this show, they also got some really beautiful moments in there and im especially happy to have had their characters in the end of s6 getting to voice the baggage that they were carrying all these years. both ralph and billy did an amazing job in those scenes

and i'll leave it there, i think. im glad i watched it. i dont know if i'll find my way back to some of the energy that existed before, but whether it becomes something i don't really interact with again, or if i circle back around to some of the unfinished fics one day, was glad that i got into it to begin with, because of all the above reasons

[mihai-florescu]

1 & 25 <3

The thoughtful Tia, hii!! Thank you for the questions:3

1. Song of the year?

Weeell spotify says it was wuthering heights by kate bush, but i think knights' discography ended up being irreplaceable in keeping me alive this summer...hmm if i had to choose just one...maybe ironic blue. It is on a playlist from when i was paranoid that i wont survive if i dont listen to it, crazy roulette & artistic partisan in the morning.

25. Did you create any characters (in games, art, or writing) this year? Describe one

Nod nod especially in the second half of the year i made a bunch of ocs, rotated the ideas for their stories in my head, and then put them back in boxes inside my brain. I made the alien gals, fascinated by humanity through rose tinted glasses of media they got their hands on, coming to earth and experiencing the horrors. I wonder what that could be about!

Ive drawn them in my sketchbook a few other times but this is the only digital colored ref so far...

Aaanyway, then i also had mt fujo, a vtuber who reviews bl media and her nr 1 online hater (for reasons of they both ship their otp differently. AxB vs BxA is no joke) is actually her sweet irl coworker she has a crush on. But they dont know... until they do. Her outfit is supposed to have that aoba figure as a necklace/central piece of sorts

And recently ive been doing animal gijinkas. No story, theyre just fun character design exercises

Ah and i have a mhyk oc based on Margarita from The Master and Margarita. Gonna copy paste a message i sent oomf about her (since oomf is the reason i read the book in the first place and one of the reasons i finally read mhyk, it felt right they'd hear about the oc): Her lore is shes a eastern witch who fell in love with a human writer. He wrote a novel that paralleled their story, shedding a positive light on human-wizard relationships. In the town they lived in, he was mocked and the book was forbidden from being published, out of humans' bitterness towards wizards. This put a lot of strain on both him and their relationship, soon enough he got sick and died. In grief, margarita flees to a forest where she builds a library where all kinds of forbidden and banned books can be found. She also specializes in restoring objects. Her magical focus is a torn page of the book her partner had written, the one that was banned, the page being one of the few remnants of its existence. On the side, after she restored his book, she hopes to use her object restoration and psychometry (feeling memories inside objects) powers to bring the master back to life through the memories inside his book. She toys around with making other puppets like this before she can try to bring him back, but has been unsuccessful in her goal so far. Murr has visited the library in the past, and now one of his soul shards resides there; he appreciates her dedication to restore and keep banned books and also her commitment to her gone lover. I envision western and eastern sages wizards would get called to a mission at the library, and it would stir them up. Shy for the fact that hes doing a similar thing except murr isnt dead, faust because the forbidden books include some about what actually happened to him in the past, etc...

This was a first sketch, im not sure if i want to keep it, but still. Some sort of visual.

[slytherinshua]

ZANNAAAA

first of all, I'M SO SORRY FOR NOT TALKING TO YOU FOR SO LONG!! life has been so hectic and Tumblr hasn't really been seen as appealing so I didn't go on it to actually get updated on anything !!

second of all, LUCY NEW ALBUM !!! I'M SOOO CURIOUS ON UR THOUGHTS ON IT BC YOU'VE KNOWN THEM LONGER. I personally think that it's literally so good, all of the songs are such masterpieces.

third of all, TXT NEW SINGLE LOVE LANGUAGE. I AM SO FREAKING EXCITED. DID YOU HEAR THE FREAKING PREVIEW????? I ACTUALLY FELT LIKE LEVITATING ALDKFJDLSKJFALSDKJF (did u also see hyuka's post...)

fourth of all, TWS COMEBACKKKKKKK. IM SO SAD THAT HANJIN BARELY GOT ANY LINES AND SCREEN TIME FOR THEIR TITLE TRACK :(((( THE WHOLE ALBUM IS ALSO REALLY GOOD ALDSJFKD

i love being a multistan :))

HI LUCY !!!! MISSED YOU <333 don't worry i completely get that we all need a break from stuff ESP if things are hectic in your personal life

THE LUCY ALBUM STOP DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED. idk if i've told you about this or talked about this much on tumblr but i've been associated with hippos since i was a baby like hippos are literally MY THING, my favourite animal my everything. i have an entire wall of artwork of hippos that my sister has drawn for me over the years, a hippo stuffie collection, and much more <33 so when i saw that the album cover was a hippo and the title track was called hippo and then after i watched the mv I WAS NOT EVEN PROCESSING ANYTHING LIKE????? they literally made this song for ME. i'm convinced cause wtf its so cute and ughhhh i just love it all sm :(( i haven't given the bsides the proper attention they need yet cause i've had a lot of comebacks recently to properly listen to and im just taking my time (also way too immersed in weak hero and its soundtrack for the past few days so thats mainly what ive been listening to oops) BUT IK THE ENTIRE ALBUM IS A SLAY IM PRETTY SURE IVE LISTENED TO EACH BSIDE AT LEAST ONCE JUST NOT WITH FULLY FOCUSED EARS YK <//3

I LISTENED TO THE PREVIEW I SAW IM FREAKING IT OUT IT SOUNDS SO FUCKING GOOD LIKE god i always have faith in txt theyre one of those groups that will never miss for me but im genuinely so hyped for this its gonna be so good

TWS COMEBACK SO GOOD they almost made me cry <//3 im just so nostalgic over them and how far they've come i love them so much !!!!!! i know i noticed that while watching the mv :( been like that since debut and i kinda wonder if its smth hes decided he wanted less lines or its smth else idk </3 but i wish we could hear more of him !!! or at least have more screen time of him even if he doesn't get many lines in the song

its always so chaotic and busy at all times but its the best feeling ever too so many exciting comebacks and so much to look forward too all the time !!! (personally rn im stoked about astro's ot5 concert thatll happen pretty soon IM GENUINELY STILL PROCESSING THAT ITS A REAL THING LIKE WDYM ROCKY BACK TOGETHER W ASTRO FOR A CONCERT, sejun from victon's solo debut, and chenle's ep!!!!!)

[starlattethesqueakwal]

"even silencing people who are victims of rl child abuse and grape because they’re convinced Viv is a pedophile that needs to be reported. Their dislike of Vivziepop is full of lies and is paraosocial!"

Oh. You mean THIS pedophillia?

Also, these people being csa or sa victims (I am one myself btw, so if anything I have every right to be disgusted with Vivziepop's shota/loli issue as someone that wasnt just a csa victim but was also groomed with loli porn as a child on discord by you guessed it- lolicons! Lolicons are NOT "safe" around children and im sick and tired of people calling them "normal" or "not actual pedos" when they ARE.) has NOTHING to do with the arguement against their points.

What? Does my voice as a irl csa and grooming victim somehow "no longer matter" because I RIGHTFULLY critiqued another hazbin fan?

Am I somehow not a part of that community for this?

No?

Then STOP DOING THIS PEOPLE! Im sick and tired of being lied about because I dont agree with stans OR antis on their hypocrisy.

I critique a fan, I get harassed, I rightfully critique a hatedom, and they do the same thing by sending deleted stuff, asks I never even wrote, or more evidenceless accusations that have been happening to me since I was a CHILD.

Its been happening to me now for 7 total years. Hell, even more than that if you count when I was sexually exploited on discord back in the 2010s (People would post borderline nudes of me in public channels to harass me despite promising to not be like the men that groomed me as a child or to "protect" me when they were also creeps.)

Also.

More proof that Vivziepop and Zone Tan supports loli/shotacon here and above:

"They’re also highly thought of to be the person that mass spammed a lot of critic blogs asking to support them or else “you are racist”"

Also, telling someone that their suicide attempt is somehow something that has to do with their morality as a person and that people should "AVOID THEM AT ALL COSTS!" over asks that "Say that people are racist for not supporting them." THEY DIDNT EVEN MAKE-

(Proof that I didnt make the asks are here from a few months ago back when the accusations and asks first appeared.)

I am not this "MONSTER!" (the fandom's words, not mine) or a "PSYCHO!" (again, their words about me on a daily basis.) that simply starts fights with people (again, not ONCE did I mention these people being sa victims as a part of the argument. It was ALWAYS about Viv mainly, not the trauma of the other side. I never and I mean NEVER said "Your trauma is invalid because you agree on something Vivziepop has done or excused her actions!" what are you even talking about anon?! Pedophilia, drawn or not, is ILLEGAL, and at this point MULTIPLE criticals have now shown EVIDENCE that Vivziepop is a loli/shotacon. STOP!) and "victimizes herself over nothing by being suicidal" (when the suicide attempt not over being a critic, but because of HARASSMENT from Hazbin stans that literally TOLD me to try to take away my life. in troll threads!) I am a traumatized human being that deserves to be treated humanely like everyone else. Critique or not, and deserves to be critiqued for my wrongs of my past, NOT evidenceless accusations.

Sure, ive made by mistakes (and apologized multiple times btw) online and have had arguments that didnt make sense, but thats a part of having schizophrenia- it causes delusions and literally EVERY single time I had such arguements I reaized immediatly after that I was off of my medication. So no, I am NOT the "monster" people make me out to be and the fact that people are still doing this is just disgusting beyond words, especially using my suicide attempts against me morally by pairing it with a callout post. How awful!

This ask is disgusting and full of misinformation based on things I NEVER EVEN SAID or did and the fact that the critiquedom STILL makes shit up about people if they EVER critique them to the level of even sending threats and shit like "Stolaskys" did for instance, is repulsive, and needs to stop NOW!

Anon should be ashamed of themself.

Just a warning a lot of critics do not associate with the person that sent this ask. They originally went by antivivziepopparade and have a concerning parasocial hatred for Vivziepop, even silencing people who are victims of rl child abuse and grape because they’re convinced Viv is a pedophile that needs to be reported, and causing long fights with people. They’re also highly thought of to be the person that mass spammed a lot of critic blogs asking to support them or else “you are racist”. A while back, they said they’d leave the community for their health, only to come back and continue their behaviors, to the point of almost committing suicide. It isn’t healthy.

https://www.tumblr.com/mhfkah/782297587795525633/there-are-people-on-x-that-also-called-me-a?source=share

Also this for more info on them:

https://www.tumblr.com/askhezureviews/778025026847916032/be-careful-with-whoever-sent-this-a-lot-of-other?source=share

I see, I'll look into this here soon! I don't really keep up with this community outside of my own critiques 'nd such. Thank you for the ask!

[sugako]

after dinner special

bokuto x f!reader x hinata sum: after seeing the way his teammate looks at you, bokuto comes up with a plan to help all parties cw: 18+ only minors dni i am begging you, established relationship (bokuto x reader), slight manipulation (?? reader/bo make a secret plan to seduce hinata and he wants to so not really but idk what else to tag it as), oral (f!receiving), double pussyjob, nipple play, orgasm denial, D/s, spit roast, unprotected, hinabo if you squint extra hard wc: 4.2k a/n: finally back from the dead with this wayyy overdue fic ive been thinking about/writing for months, no edits or beta bc i'm too impatient and haven't posted in so long

Above all else, Bokuto was incredibly perceptive to other’s emotions. Among other aspects, that quality had really drawn you to him even if it wasn’t as extraordinarily overt as his confidence and enthusiasm. His perceptiveness didn’t end with you, of course, he was well-connected with his teammates, which meant when he saw the way Hinata’s eyes just barely glazed over when he met you he knew there was something more happening in his head. He watched the burning grow in Hinata after he had witnessed the two of you had, quite obviously, snuck off to another room during a get-together at Meian’s, spit still drying at the corner of your dry, puffy lips a week prior.

Even he wasn’t sure what exactly his plan was as he started up in the locker room a couple weeks later, oversharing every little detail he could recall about your body, namely when it was under him. Ignoring Atsumu and Kiyoomi’s groans for him to stop while Shugo and Oliver snickered to themselves reminiscing about their own escapades from a handful of years ago, he focused on Hinata’s reaction.

Shōyō remained uncharacteristically quiet as he rambled on about how cute your soft tits were, only speaking to quietly excuse himself to the bathroom. He was careful, but not careful enough to hide the tent in his shorts.

Not one to keep a secret, the words came tumbling from his mouth when he burst into your shared apartment.

“I think Hinata likes you!” He managed, tearing off his shoes to stumble into the hallway to wrap you in a tight hug like he did nearly every day.

“I-...what?” You choke, wrapping a tentative arm back around him and peeling away to look at him in the eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Not like… I don’t know, I think he wants to fuck you.” The smile on his face doesn’t waver, only confusing you.

“I’m not sure how to take this.” You deadpan, brows just short of knitting together. “Why…?”

“Well if you would like that I certainly wouldn’t mind.” His teeth graze over your skin as he pecks messy kisses all over your cheeks and neck.

“You wouldn’t mind?” You blankly repeat back, holding his back by his muscled shoulders to make him look you in the eyes. “Because not minding something and wanting something are very different and I just want to make sure whatever we’re about to talk about we’re just being really clear.”

Bokuto inhaled a massive breath, squeezing his eyes shut tight as he collected exactly what he wanted to say to you. Before he could, the smell coming from the kitchen distracted his senses, leaving him to weakly exhale and blink his eyes open. “Talk over dinner?”

The long talk over the dinner table was eventually fruitful. After he collected himself and stuffed his rumbling stomach, Bokuto was better able to explain what he had seen in Hinata. It made you recall every time you had seen him and you would be lying if you said you didn’t see it too. He wasn’t exactly a subtle person.

When it came down to it, you certainly weren’t opposed. Bokuto certainly seemed interested in the prospect of sharing you, especially with his favorite prodigy as he liked to class him. You recognized that Hinata was attractive and you had to admit that the concept of being squished between the two thick, bubbly men was alluring as long as he was truly interested.

Before the full invitation to come over for dinner - specially prepared by you - had even slipped from Bokuto’s mouth, Hinata was eagerly accepting. Part of you dreaded the entire ordeal, anxieties bubbling up about the lead up and the talking beforehand that you had foolishly agreed to do most of. Over dinner you stayed a little quieter than usual, trying to gauge Hinata’s expression and body language.

When he politely excuses himself to use the restroom after finishing, Bokuto grabs your hand across the table, rubbing a thumb over your knuckles.

“If you’re nervous we can stop right here.” He whispers, grinning softly.

You can’t help but smile back, shaking your head. “No, I’m okay,” you assure him, “I am a little nervous, but I really want to.”

He opens his mouth to say something else, but is cut off by the sound of the bathroom door closing and the soft pad of Hinata’s feet down the hallway. Clearing your throat, you give a reassuring smile to Bokuto, and stand to face where Hinata soon pops out of.

“Hinata, would you-”

“Shōyō is fine!” He interjects. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“That’s fine,” you smile, ghosting your hand down his arm and resting your palm against his elbow. “Shōyō, would you mind helping me wash up in the kitchen. I feel bad asking the guest, but Kōtarō has something for you and you’ll get to it faster if I finish this.”

Hinata can feel his heart pounding behind his rib cage so hard he worries you can hear his pulse reverberating. You look so sweet with those pleading eyes staring at him, the warm touch of your fingertips sending heat to his chest.

“Of course, I don’t mind.” He nods, letting you lead him a room away to the kitchen.

“Great, thank you, this is such a big help.” You grin while placing the dirty dishes in the sink before you and handing him a dry towel. “You can just dry and put them in the cabinet in front of you.”

“Okay,” he says quietly, eyeing down your low-cut shirt as you squeeze your arms together and lean down to grab the first bowl. His eyes roll to the back of his head when you turn the tap on a little too fast and water splashes all over the front of your thin, pale dress, making the black lacy bra underneath pop.

“Whoops!” You exclaim, smiling a little too happily, feeling how his feet shift beside you. “This tap is a little loose, I always get messy and wet trying to do anything.”

He has to bite down hard on the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning, glad that your gaze is in the sink and not on his flushed face. He doesn’t want to feel this way about his friend’s girlfriend, but it’s so hard when you’re standing so close - did you take a step toward him? when did your hip start brushing against his? - and you look so pretty.

“So, Shōyō…” you start, handing him another dish, “Kōtarō talks about you a lot, you know.”

“Really?” His voice is pitched and strained, stopping short of choking on his own words.

“Yeah, he thinks you’re great. He was so excited when you joined the team. He, uh, he pays attention, a lot more than some people give him credit for.”

Hinata nods, carefully placing the bowl in the cupboard. “He’s great, I’ve always loved watching him play.”

“He’s fun to watch,” you agree, “You know he thinks….actually, can I just ask what your type is?” The words tumble out quickly as you try to gain confidence, a small bit of worry creeping into the back of your head.

“My type?” He repeats back, pausing in his drying motions. “I don’t know if I really have one. Just anyone I feel good with. Why?” When he turns to look at you again you’re turned to face him, a small smile lighting up your features.

“That’s a good way to look at things. I only ask because, well Kōtarō seems to think you have some kind of interest in me.” You force the words to come out casually, keeping your eyes on him. Hinata sputters and chokes on his own words, the way your hand comes down over his doing absolutely nothing to help him compose himself. “There’s no good way to say this, but he was thinking you could, uh well take what you’ve been thinking about, if you want to.”

Taking a deep swallow, he took a short deep breath to clear his mind. “And what do you think?”

Tension dissipates from your body at his question. “I think I would like you to do whatever you want. Touch me, kiss me, anything. Only if you want to.”

His fists clench and unclench again, gears turning in his head as he realizes this was planned. All those stories Bokuto told, the glint in his eyes for the past few weeks, the way you put yourself on display for him all night with that sly little smirk - it was all part of some plan. A little worried voice in the back of his head told him this was too good to be true. But you were offering yourself up to him, angled forward so your tits would pop and watching him so carefully as though he were a scared animal ready to run, and he knew it had to be true.

The timid, apprehensive look he had been sporting slowly drained from his face, replaced with a much more confident and delighted one. His hands moved from his sides to dig into your waist, lifting you up onto the counter behind you.

“Don’t tease me.” He whispers hoarsely, lips ghosting over the pulse of your throat. The loose dress Bokuto had purposefully picked out for you to wear for the evening rode up as Hinata settled his thick body between your welcoming knees.

“I’m not,” you pant, “Kōtarō really wanted this.”

A shuddered sigh comes from his chest as he rests his head against your shoulder, just barely kissing the soft spot between your neck and shoulder. You fidget restlessly, trying to pull his still body closer to no avail.

“Wanna know he wants this.” He says eventually. “I trust you, I just…”

“No, no, I get it.” You say a little too abruptly, fishing around for where your phone was tossed onto the counter. With shaky hands you hurried to click it open, immediately going to your messages, scrolling to the most recent chat with Bokuto where he depicted how much he wanted to see you fucked out on his and Hinata’s cocks in vivid detail. You push the phone into his hand. “You can scroll wherever, he mentioned it before that one’s just… yeah.”

“Oh, wow.” He breathes, glancing through a few other messages from earlier in the week. Gently, he sets the phone down beside you before pulling your hips to the edge of the counter. His lips collide with the base of your throat knocking the air right from you.

You wind your fingers up in his hair as he pressed harsh kisses straight down your front, his rough hands pushing the skirt of your dress up even higher, leaving the tops of your thighs completely exposed. He keeps journeying lower until his cheek is flush to the hem of your panties. When his nose presses up against the slowly growing damp patch leaking his shoulders heave as though to hold himself back.

“And he doesn’t want us to wait up…?”

Truthfully, you didn’t know completely. Bokuto had asked to make some kind of subtle move on Hinata in private, he figured it would be less stressful for the both of you, but he hadn’t said how far to go with him, and you weren’t really sure what he was doing in some other part of the house, and Hinata’s fingers were so hot against your skin…

“No, it’s fine.” You pant, desperation evident in your voice. He doesn’t need much more, hand moving to pull the stretchy fabric you had purposefully worn to the side, his wide tongue darting out to lap up the wetness seeping from you.

With an aching whine, you lean into his touch, massaging his head and bringing him closer to you with every burning second that passes. Not that you had expected him to be inexperienced by any means, but you hadn’t expected him to be so good. He was loud, moaning against your cunt as he buried his tongue inside of you, nose tapping against your pleading clit.

The sound of your breathy whimpers and the loud slurping squelches drowned out the steps coming down the hall or the kitchen door swinging open. Bokuto stood there for a moment with a small smile, admiring how pretty you looked like this, even if he wished it were him, but he couldn’t let the moment pass him by.

“Puppy,” he sighed. The first syllable was enough to make Hinata pop off of you and stumble back to turn around, eyes hazy and drunken of the taste of you. Ignoring the hardened look in Bokuto’s eyes, you pouted sweetly, spreading your legs a little more to let him see your soiled panties.

“Kōtar-”

“You’re being greedy, don’t you think, puppy? Going ahead without me like that.” He imitates you with a fake pout, the look never quite meeting his blazing eyes. You can feel what’s coming and make no more attempt to argue. Hinata is taking in the interaction, still halfway in his own daze. “She’s great, huh, Shōyō? Pretty little pussy and she makes the best noises, especially when she’s crying for your cock.”

Hinata swallows hard, absentmindedly palming over his pants where he’s quickly grown half-hard. “Yeah, she’s, yeah no, uh she’s really great. This is still okay?”

Both of you nod quickly, reassuring him, but you remain silent for now, trying to settle before you know what’s to come.

“Totally okay as long as you’re okay.” Bokuto drops the edge in his tone to carefully watch him for a moment, assessing.

“Completely.” He agrees with a dreamy sigh.

Nodding again, Bokuto approaches the two of you. Refusing to meet his eyes you stare just ahead at the door.

“Oh, don’t look so sad, puppy, you know you’ll get what you want in the end anyway.” He jabs as he scoops you over his shoulder and gives you a gentle pat on the back of your thighs. “Let’s at least go to the living room.”

You glance back at Hinata, mouthing a silent whoops, while Bokuto leads him around the corner. Bokuto plops into the corner of the couch, back propped up by the plush arm, and maneuvering your pliable body to sit comfortably in his lap with your back pulled up flush to his chest. You’re gently pushed forward so he can peel the dress off and unclasp your bra. He’s calm for now, at least on the outside, but you can feel his heart pounding through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“Don’t need these anymore,” he hums, latching his fingers in the sides of your underwear and motioning for you to lift your hips to let him slide them off. Hooking his elbows under your knees, he pulls your thighs to your chest, high enough so that he can palm your breasts. Quietly whining, you turn your head away so you don’t have to look directly up at Hinata - not that he’d notice your face with the way your cunt was glistening under the low, soft lights of the room. “Shh,” he directs at you before glancing back up at Hinata, “go ahead, but don’t let her cum.”

With a warm grin he gets on his knees between Bokuto’s spread legs. You almost felt too exposed, all power taken from your hands, splayed open like this. Bokuto slots his chin against your shoulder and presses the softest kiss to your cheek in stark contrast to the way his rough hands are kneading and pinching your sensitive breasts.

Hinata eagerly gets back to it, lavishing your cunt with softer licks than before, making your hips shake as they seek out more friction. While your neediness grows so too does Bokuto’s grip on you.

“So pretty,” he coos, eyes glued to where Hinata was firmly pressed against you. Pride bloomed in his chest at the sight of his teammate sloppily eating out his favorite girl so enthusiastically, appreciating you so much as he should.

It’s impossible for him to not get rock hard with the way you’re grinding down into his lap and the crude, wet sounds and groans vibrating from the back of Hinata’s throat.

“Taste so good.” Hinata grumbles, pulling back and forcing his tense hips to stop rutting into the couch cushion. He feels himself making a mess in his pants, hoping that he isn’t leaking through to your nice furniture, but he can’t quite bring himself to stop either. Both Bokuto and you watch the string - you’re not sure whether it’s his spit or your own wetness - that stays connected between your slit and his puffy, glossy lips.

“Good...good job.” Bokuto sighs. You’re not sure if he’s praising you or Hinata, but you don’t have much time to think too hard about it before he releases your legs and wedges his hands under between himself and you to pull his straining cock from his pants. Mind buzzing, still a little hazy from the feeling of Hinata’s tongue, you grab out from him, pulling on the band of his pants. Truthfully, he’s not quite sure what you’re asking for but he does know how tight his balls are and how inviting your cunt looks.

Just as Bokuto is settling his cock between your ass, Hinata’s pants are slipped off, thrown to the ground. He dips his head down to take one of your breasts into his mouth, moaning around you and pressing in close so his tip catches against your clit. At your whiny cry and keening, Bokuto lets out a low, single chuckle. “Don’t let her have your cock, not all the way. You were being so greedy earlier puppy, I don’t think you deserve it yet.”

Hinata keeps his mouth firmly planted on your chest and reaches down to perfectly slip himself between the top of your folds, acutely aware of Bokuto’s heavy head just barely bumping against the base of his own cock. They’re both so thick and heavy as they rabidly hump against you, Bokuto maneuvering your body for you back and forth across both of them. Everything is warm and wet between Hinata’s mouth on your chest and Bokuto’s lips kissing down the side of your neck.

The tease of release that’s been creeping up on you for so long draws closer and closer. Hinata’s cock is catching so exactly on your swollen clit and Bokuto’s tip keeps threatening to slip past your entrance, slick dripping past your thighs.

“Gonna, ahg, cu-cum!” You manage out, hips already bouncing on their own accord against them.

“Go ahead.” Bokuto says with a shaky breath, squeezing you as tight as he could between his body and Hinata’s. One more roll of their hips has you crashing down, pleasure rolling through your body. All you can feel is warmth and overwhelming satisfaction as you twitch between their arms, creaming across their cocks. “Good girl, good girl…” you faintly hear Bokuto coo into your ear as you slump back against him.

The buzzing, quiet moment is quickly squashed as he hoists you out of his lap and onto all fours. He’s talking to Hinata and you know you should be listening, but your pussy is still throbbing and you’re trying to catch your breath.

“...okay, baby?” You catch the very end of his sentence and blink hard, desperate to refocus.

“W-wait, what? Sorry, I just-”

“It’s okay, puppy,” he rubs a soothing hand down your back, slowly bringing you back to reality. “Need a second?”

You shake your head, the last of the fog slipping away. Before you, you see Hinata, his rigid cock slicked up by you only a few inches from your face. “I’m okay now, can you just say that again?”

“‘Course,” he grins, teasing your entrance, “I said I’m going to take your pretty pussy from back here and Shōyō is going to use your mouth. If you want.”

Wiggling your hips back to meet his and craning your neck up to look at Hinata you give a deft nod.

“I do, I want that.” You sigh.

Trembling with excitement, already so riled up from feeling you cum against him, Hinata shuffles the last bit forward. He’s pretty and much thicker than you had imagined. The tight strain of scattered veins and his heavy balls tell you all you need to know about how pent up he obviously is. Reaching out with palms still a bit shaky, you helped to reel him in the rest of the way with welcoming, parted lips.

You wrapped your fingers tightly around where you couldn’t quite reach, sloppily taking more and more of him with each bob of your head. His salty precum meshed with what was leftover of your own mess, the taste making you moan around his length.

Bokuto was trying to move slower now, recognizing that you were easily slipping, but the way you rocked your body back and forth bumping against his sensitive, reddened tip, he couldn’t hold back much more. Digging his fingers into your hip, he eased the motions of your body, lining himself up, resisting from plowing into you at full force.

“Ready?” He asks, nearly whining. At the sound of his voice, you pull off from Hinata, letting your quickly tiring jaw grow slack.

“Uh-huh.” You barely heave out before wrapping your lips around him again. So sure you can take both at once and not falter, you ramp back up to your original pace, slobbering down his cock, the click of your quick motions echoing around your head. Unfortunately for your ego, you’re dead wrong.

Bokuto wastes no time drilling himself into you, setting a bruising pace straight from the beginning. It’s all you can do to loudly moan around Hinata’s cock, still stuffed in your mouth by the slight pistoning of his hips, the way Bokuto is ramming you forward only forcing him deeper down your throat.

As you gag, sputter, and moan down his length, drool dripping onto the already soiled cushions below, Hinata feels the pressure building and building in his core. Electricity tingles down his limbs, aided by the fucked out look in your pretty eyes. He doesn’t even have to move now with the way Bokuto is railing you against him. He wonders if you realize he’s close when you suck a little tight, cheeks hollowing as you take a little more of him, the hand that had been working his base coming down to lightly hold his swollen balls.

You don’t know. At this point, you’re moving on autopilot, simply trying your best. Your brain doesn’t know where to focus - Hinata filling out your mouth or Bokuto as he purposely alternates between hitting against your spongy spot and deep inside of you. It’s all a mess of spit, sweat, and cum, but you don’t think you’ve felt the rush of pleasure that comes with being used so well by more than one person.

Bokuto doesn’t know how much longer he can last. You’re clamping around, cunt fluttering each time his digs in a little deep or Hinata’s cock twitches against your tongue. He can tell by the scrunched up expression on his friend’s face that he can’t last much longer and he doesn’t blame him. Between fucking against your pussy and being wrapped up in your pretty mouth, no one really could. He’s determined to hold out though, a little spark of competition lighting up his chest. When Bokuto’s strokes suddenly slow you groan again, the vibrations dragging a stuttered moan from Hinata’s pretty lips.

“Gonna, hngh, uh gonna cum.” He sputters out, hips quivering as he tries to hold back from fucking too far back into your throat. At that, Bokuto’s hips speed up again, forcing a little whimpered cry, muffled by the cock in your mouth, from you. Still, you force yourself to focus on Hinata, sucking him dry as soon as the first spurt of cum hits the back of your throat.

He cums fast and hard and a lot. It’s seeping out from your lips, making him messier than he already was until he’s pulling his softening length from your mouth and flopping back against the couch, gently rubbing your arm while he catches his breath. With a heavy grin, Bokuto shoves a hand between your shoulder blades, knocking you into Hinata’s lap. Somewhat in vain, you try to clean him off between the pitchy mewls and cries that you breathe out while Bokuto chases his own release.

In no time, he’s there again, his own pressure built up as high as it could just before he burst inside of you. He fucks himself raw, your tight hole sucking him in, his cum only making it easier to slip in and out of you. Knowing he’ll finish when he’s completely spent, you lie limp in Hinata’s lap and he lazily wraps a hand around the back of your neck, soothing the leftover tension. You recognize Bokuto’s nearly done when his cock stops twitching and his hips slot against yours with some finality just before he slumps over you.

Whining when he slips out, even soft his cock is still a tight squeeze, you fall all the way against the couch, legs giving out at last. He falls back against the back, moving your legs to sit on top of his thighs and massaging them with great care. Completely spent and drifting half-asleep you just barely hear him.

“So,” he starts, head lolling toward Hinata who’s still lightly working his fingers against your upper back, “Dinner next week?”

[barnesandco]

Little Hands (IV)

Series Masterlist

Communication is key.

This is an entry for @star-spangled-bingo 2021. Word count: 2248. Square filled: “Sung to Sleep”

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: More Hydra Evilness, More Sad Child, Parental Anxieties. Brief mentions of war, sickness, death, grief. 

A/N: I know 2.2k words isn’t objectively a lot but boy did this feel like it. I hope every word is worth it and that you enjoy! Lmk what you think!!! Also I won’t even lie, the idea of Steve’s kids is 100% from one of my favorite comfort fics, family means no one gets left behind or forgotten, by the genius, the wonderful cosmicocean. IT’S SO SOFT. Pls read it.

You’re stunned when Bucky tells you what’s going on. The idea that his daughter (?) was made in a lab like some kind of experiment, and that the man who led said experiment now wants her back like she is his property, his weapon, is too horrid to consider for very long. Weaponizing an innocent child. Hydra.

Bucky gave you the broad strokes of the investigation – currently running on little more than educated guesses based on the meagre intel they have – and has let you know that he has had to recuse himself from the case, due to his… personal connection. That leaves him somewhere he finds awkward, to say the least.

It's evident in the way the corners of his lips turn down, how he is constantly rubbing the pads of his fingers against the coarse scratch of denim, while he watches Ana watch Zoya, Steve’s 17-year-old daughter, working on a tablet. Zoya tucks a strand of hair behind her hijab, then continues to draw up a storyboard, narrating the events to the younger girl. Steve had apparently forgotten the lunch his kids had made him at home, so Zoya had brought it in, and decided to stay the day.

Ana’s quiet, attentive for the most part, listening with her full capabilities, but her eyes flit away from the screen every now and then to look at you and Bucky, as if to reassure herself that you’re still there.

Besides that, there aren’t all that many distractions present for an already precocious child. Most of the team has dispersed for the investigation, with the exception of Peter, who is sat at a table in the corner making intentionally fruitless efforts at teaching Morgan chess, while she giggles and tries to stack the pieces like Jenga blocks instead.

However, Bucky’s restlessness is infectious, and you think he needs to get it under check before it grows any further. That’s why you stand, saying, “Could we go for a little walk, Bucky?”

He nods, man of few words that he is, and leads the way. You’re sure he knows that you formulated it like a request for his benefit, but he doesn’t mention it. It’s just as well – that he knows you like that, and knows when to accept the proverbial hand being offered.

Bucky takes you to a corner of the roof that you’d mistake for a community garden if you didn’t know any better. The Avengers seem to have green thumbs, or at least, a significant portion of them do. They’re good with plants, and possessive about them, too. Autumn ferns grow outside the circle they seem to have been planted in – with a sign shouting Wanda! – to invade the territory of a vegetable garden labelled Bruce (accompanied by a Hulkish, green thumbs up presumably not drawn by the man himself).  

Meticulously maintained daylilies and columbines, in vivid reds and vibrant purples, litter the edges of the path that has been carved through this little paradise, and the birdhouses between them stake the claim of the owner more effectively than a neon sign screaming Sam Wilson. Bucky’s told you about his abilities, how they veer into the decidedly supernatural but Sam insists are only the residue of a childhood with homing pigeons.

Nothing here looks like Bucky’s, though. He seems to be taking it in, perhaps thinking about his own little paradise back in the city, and how he’s chosen to keep it distant from that of his teammates. That worries you. He worries you.

And this, the situation with Anastasia, becoming a father, it’s terrifying. Hell, if it scares you this much, how is he feeling? You ask him as much.

“Bucky, are you okay?”

He laughs, softly, disbelievingly, no malice in his scoff, only fear. Only the sound of a voice saturated with consternation and total, complete anxiety. “Would you be?” He asks back.

“That’s why I’m asking.”

Bucky evades the questions, turning first one way on the path, and then the other, approaching the edge clear of shrubbery and blooms alike, resting his palms on the top of the wall.

“I can’t be a father.”

The solemnity in his tone allows no room for negotiations, but then, neither do the facts. “You are,” you reply, somewhat hesitantly, because the technicalities of how Ana came to be are still a little blurry to you. She’s far from a normal child, and not quite a clone, either. She is of Bucky, though. His, in any way that counts.

“That little girl was created in a Hydra lab as a super soldier to serve the cause,” he says, shaking his head vigorously as the cause repulses him even more than it does you. “And who knows what else she was put through before SHIELD fell and Orlov got her out, and it’s my fault.”

“You didn’t—”

“I didn’t ask for it to happen but it wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t happened. They used me to make a super soldier from scratch, and now I’m supposed to raise her? It’s not that simple. I’m not Steve. I can’t…”

Being honest, you feel you’re pretty far out of your depth here. But you’ve promised him your help, and you’ll do your best.

“You don’t have to. There are other options.” You’re sure you’re overstepping. Perhaps this gentle companionship has not yet reached the point where you can give advice on parenting. But if you don’t, who will? Steve, whose answers don’t enter the gray territory Bucky’s mind is residing in right now, who parents like he was born for it?

Steve chose fatherhood. Bucky has been nailed to it like it’s a new cross to bear, heavier than all the previous ones put together.

His gaze roams the grounds that stretch as far as you can see. You’re both far away from home right now, far outside your comfort zones.

“I’m sorry for dragging you into my mess, sweetheart. It’s not right. You have things to do, and I shouldn’t have—”

“Bucky, I’ve been staring at the same four sentences of dialogue for the past month. I literally could not have been happier to get out of the house. Even if I do wish it was under better circumstances,” you say fervently. You’re here because he needs you. Because Ana needs you. It’s nice to be needed.

“That’s one way to put it,” he smiles, and you’re glad to see it.

“Not to mention, it’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault except whoever your team is looking for,” you insist. “And Ana’s a sweet girl. A little quiet, but Baba says I was, too.”

This, Bucky thinks about. You wonder if he was a quiet child, too. “What’s he like?”

“Hmm?” The reverie snaps like a rubber band.

“Your father?” Bucky asks, shyly, his eyes meeting yours, letting you know exactly why he’s asking.

You look up at the clouds, think back to Boston, to time shared between the library and the park. A childhood with books, lunch breaks under a desk in an office at MIT, stealing his glasses and running away with them, rubbing at his stubbly beard like he was a housecat. Inside jokes with your father and rolled eyes with your mother. Laughter and tears, laughter with tears.

After a long while, trying and failing to summarize your father, you say, “A jokester. The most sarcastic person I know. But still kind of neurotic, to be honest. The kind of parent that makes you show up at the airport a full four hours before your flight.” It’s grossly insufficient. For a writer, you’re not very good with words. You suppose it’s not the words that are the problem; it’s the lifetime they have to encompass. “What about yours?”

Bucky sighs. “Soldier. He’s one thing I don’t feel bad for not remembering because it wasn’t Hydra that wiped those memories. He just died when I was really small. Survived the Great War only to be killed by TB a few years later at home.”

“I’m sorry.” You avert your eyes. Grief feels private, even decades later, even in the smallest doses.

He shakes his head, smiles fondly, up at the sky, too, like you did. Only, he’s smiling at it, like he’s thinking of someone beyond the clouds. “Don’t be. Was a long time ago.”

“That doesn’t mean it isn’t allowed to hurt anymore.”

“You sound like my therapist.”

“I sound like my therapist.”

At this, the two of you look at each other and burst into laughter. It feels forbidden, as though the severity of the situation condemns joy. That isn’t fair, you think. The situation is that of a child, and nobody needs laughter more than kids do. Food for the soul.

When the echo of your exhilarations falls, Bucky grows serious once more. “They have them for kids, now, too, right?” He asks, referring to therapists. “Do you think Anastasia should see one? She’s not exactly… normal, you know?”

“Maybe.” It’s a difficult question, but a good indicator of how Bucky is growing to feel about Ana. “You’d make a good dad, if you wanted to be one, Bucky,” you say, and mean it. It’s plain as day that he cares about her.

“I can’t even remember my own.”

“Parental instincts are intuitive, not genetic,” you tell him.

“You been reading handbooks?” He teases.

“You’d be surprised by how much you learn from the rabbit holes you fall down while researching books,” you deadpan.

“Can any of that research get the nightmares out of my head? I think it might scare a kid.”

The self-deprecation hurts, but your response is honest, heartfelt. “She likes you already.”

“She won’t if she thinks I’ve run away,” he answers, straightening up. He might be trying to evade the conversation, but you’ll let him, for now. He’s gotten some fresh air, had some time to clear his thoughts, or sort them, at least. And so you return, to the little girl who has a tighter grip on both of you than you even realize.

------

Ana grows unsettled as night darkens the sky. It could be the ruckus she isn’t quite used to. It could be the toy fire truck Tony has been altering with his utensils to increase its noise output, much to Morgan’s amusement. It could be the actual parrot perched on Sam’s shoulder.

Whatever the cause, she hasn’t succumbed to it enough to make a seat out of the fridge again. She’s sitting in her seat, between Bucky and yourself, eating the hummus Bruce and Wanda have made. Nat discusses sniper scopes with Clint, Peter tries to get away with eating the side of vegetables on Jordan’s plate without Steve noticing, and Bucky eats silently, eyes almost constantly on Anastasia, who takes it all in while her knee bounces up and down with an ever-increasing speed, much like her father’s.

You excuse yourselves soon after dessert, after Morgan has fallen asleep against Jordan’s arm on the couch, and Steve and Tony’s friendly debate is starting to develop the edge it tends to when they’ve been bantering for too long.

Bucky sets up on the sectional in his room, and leaves the ridiculously large double bed to you and Anastasia. It’s been a strange, strange day, and one can only hope that tomorrow brings some ease, a balm for the prickly, fiery ache that has settled over the man you care so much about.

------

When you wake, it’s because of singing. For half a moment, you think you’re in a dream, but as your eyes adjust to the blanket of dark, you see the shadow on the sofa nearby. Only, it’s bigger than just Bucky. Anastasia is sitting on his lap, her head cushioned against his chest. Scrambling for your glasses, and turning on the lamp on the bedside table, you notice that there are trails of drying tears on her little cheeks, and she’s still shaking with the aftershocks of whatever scare she must’ve had during the night.

Not for the first time, you curse your deep sleep that meant you didn’t wake with Ana, but watch in wonder as Bucky sings.

Hush, little baby, don't say a word Papa's going to buy you a mockingbird

And if that mockingbird won't sing Papa's going to buy you a diamond ring

Ana’s eyes begin to close, but she fights the sleep. Bucky doesn’t let her. He lies down, easing her down beside himself, singing all the while.

And if that diamond ring turns brass Papa's going to buy you a looking glass

And if that looking glass gets broke Papa's going to buy you a billy goat

His voice fills the room, low though it may be, and he curls himself around Ana.

And if that billy goat won't pull Papa's going to buy you a cart and bull

And if that cart and bull turn over Papa's going to buy you a dog named Rover

She succumbs to the lull of his tone, his song, his promises, sighs a little sigh, lets the last, little hiccup leave her body.

And if that dog named Rover won't bark Papa's going to buy you a horse and cart

And if that horse and cart fall down You'll still be the sweetest little baby in town

Bucky lifts his hand from where it was stroking the hair at her temple, and lays his arm over his daughter. They’re safe, for now. Together.

[amarillokidding]

(I'm just gonna post it by itself but it was an ask by my friend Vojta about what books I like!!!)

***

Thank you for the question :D

To be warned, I don't read as much as I used to BUT I have started getting back into it since this past year.

For starters my favorite types of books and genres are adult and contemporary dealing with family dynamics. I love books about families and either how messed up stuff is and working it out or healing from it. When I say adult I mean just dealing with older characters as opposed to teenagers which young adult is abundant with. Other genres I like are high fantasy with like kingdoms and magic colleges and stuff. Its all bc of elder scrolls I guess🙄 I'm obsessed with like, ''''organizations'''' and how each person fits into its place and how characters work together in different ways. Waaahh😭😭😭 also a fan of coming of age but in a specific way I don't know how to describe. Its like, you're growing up and seeing things the way they really happened and you understand now. Its like everything is different but its still the same.

My favorite book is Along for the Ride by Sarah Dessen. I don't like mentioning it that much bc she has a sort of "reputation" for ya formulaic cishet books and yea I agree (sort of) but its the first book from her I read and therefore it was new to me. Its getting a Netflix film and its in post production rn (I'm keeping up with it on instagram by following the actors and director). Its about a girl named Auden, its the summer before college and she stays with her dad and his new family in a beach town for the summer and she meets this guy called Eli and bc they both dont sleep at night and she's never done a lot of stuff kids have done so he decides to help her experience her life for the first time. I'm obsessed with this book, Auden and Eli both have like traumas and stuff in their past that theyre both dealing with and it feels realistic to me on how their relationship evolves as opposed to just falling in love suddenly. The story isn't quite a romance as the description and everyone says. Theres a love interest but the story deals more heavily with Auden's family as her mom is super condescending and judgemental and her dad barely cares about her. Literally almost all scenes with Audens mom have me like:

Its just my favorite book ive drawn fanart for it before and even recently its that I just haven't posted it for no reason probably bc I'm insane. My audio tag is the shortened form "aud" as a reference to her actually lol. I definitely think of Auden as a comfort character and I see a lot of myself in her.

Another book I loved was "We Were Liars" by E. Lockhart. This is a 'tiktok phenomenon' apparently lmao. Its about a girl called Cadence and two summers ago she was in an accident on her grandfathers ISLAND where her family spends the summer every year and now two years later she doesn't remember what even happened to her and everybody refuses to speak about it. Cadence spends the summer with her cousins and friend and she slowly starts remembering what happened that summer. I thought the twist was awesome and spine-chilling and I'm obsessed with the fact that the author made like, a family tree and a map for the island. I thought that was so cool bc samesies I do the same with my characters. Based on reviews for this book, it really is a hit or miss depending on the person. So many ppl hate this book bc of the twist and find the story stupid bc its about rich white ppl going through stuff but like 😔👉👈 I still like it....

Some more books I love are "Waiting for Normal" by Leslie Conner and "This One Summer" by Mariko and Jillian Tamaki (graphic novel) and "Flipped" by Wendelin Van Draanen all which also follow a similar theme in family stuff and include summer in some way. I also love graphic novels, 'this one summer' is definitely my fave one. Flipped is my best example of coming of age that I love and it has a film adaption I adore as well and has become a comfort movie.

Rn im reading Lost Gods by Brom, its pretty heavy and long and im just at the beginning so I don't know if I like it yet but I like the way the author writes so far.

So far we have like dysfunctional family, summer setting, trauma, and healing from the past as major things I enjoyed in these stories.😔

I dont have a goodreads or another book website I just put book links saved to my bookmarks and make lists in a binder about which books seem interesting. I was thinking of making an account but probably not on goodreads as I wanna move away from Amazon stuff but idk yet where. I used to have shelfari before it got discontinued/merged to goodreads back in middle school but I don't really remember if that's still active or not or what books I even had there. When I make an account I will let you know about it :D

So disclaimer again I do read and watch and play almost anything and I'm not always the best judge of stuff, sometimes I like things that are bad or poorly executed so idk if you'd end up enjoying the same things in the same way I do waaah😭.

[infinites-chaser]

2/5/21

NEON

1. Teenage bedroom (late night)

2. Lord

3. Planetarium

4. Basketball court

5. Malevolence

prompts by @nosebleedclub can be found here!

i. it’s cold and dark— the new moon and cloudy skies mean only the artificial glow of streetlights filters in, soft and subdued, through the hazy fabric of his curtains. 1:30, reads the clock. he closes his eyes. opens them when dreams won’t come.

it’s often that teenagers like him are lost, this time of night, it’s often that sleep can’t find him.

ii. he doesn’t believe in god, he never has, not since his father first laid his eyes on him, laid hands on his mother, took away his little brother. when he looks to the whorls of stars glued clumsy and hasty to his bedroom ceiling, when he closes his eyes at night, he does not pray to any lord. he worships her smile. 

iii. there’s a galaxy swirling in the depths of her clear gaze, constellations that could be drawn in the scattering of freckles across her cheeks that only darken come summer. she dimples. stars collide, stars reform. it’s astronomy planetariums and textbooks could never hope to teach, astronomy only poets and lovers know.

(he’s pulled into her orbit, the weight of his heart nothing against her gravity. her force. his heartbeat accelerates. but he doesn’t fall, he flies.)

iv. physics class blurs past him. most of his classes do. but when the teacher’s droning voice turns to talk of the stars above, the way the planets move, he listens. it makes sense, somehow, though little else in school does. he thinks of it often. of laws of motion. of forces and attraction.

an object in motion will stay in motion, the teacher says.

she moves him. his heart’s restless. it stays restless, no matter what he does.

he drums his fingers on his desk in time with his racing heart, doesn’t stop even when the bully in the seat in front twists around to glare. he ignores the boy, lets his eyes instead follow her across the classroom.

basketball helps, keeps his motion focused, lets it flow. he dribbles the ball. thinks about the ball’s bounce, its steady spring back up after every fall. thinks about how she says she liked the other team’s dunk, the way the last player had looked when he’d scored.

he jumps. he shoots. he scores. he makes sure it’s when she’s watching, he’s rewarded with her bright congratulations! and her grin, a small cosmic wonder.

it feels like flying. like defying gravity.

(when she faints during p.e. he’s by her side. she gives him a band-aid, after, cheeks flushed, dimples showing.

for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction, he thinks, and puts the bandage on with an answering smile.)

v. there’s his father’s anger, vicious swirling storm of violence that leaves him broken breathless beaten, curled into a corner wishing for gentle winds and the summer stars. his father’s anger and the cold winter that follows, eyes that look past him, that look through him, murmur you failure, you, that put icy fingers of frost deep into even the warmest corners of his heart. there’s the bullies who corner him atop the roof, knives in hand, telling him to jump, telling him his destiny was always to fall.

he survives the bullies. weathers his father. but when it’s her standing in front of him, his fist curled in a boy’s shirt, her starbright eyes dim with horror, it dawns on him. there are some falls that were always meant to happen. there are some orbits he can’t escape from (this one’s a hole opened up in the pit of his stomach, dark and wide, his snarl reflected in her eyes an inescapable force that pulls him apart, pulls him under). this is his event horizon.

PASTEL

1. Teenage bedroom (soft morning)

2. Dwarf rabbit

3. Seaside memory

4. Embrace

5. Peach juice

v. she likes the juice normally. it’s sweet and light and refreshing, a nectar of the gods, bottled in it is a hundred laughs and smiles, the taste of summers gone by. today, the drink sits heavy on her tongue, choking, cloying artificial sugar that makes her stomach turn.

what’s wrong, her friend asks. it tastes like missed opportunities, she thinks but does not say, it tastes like what-could-have-been turned sour, then sugared over again, far too sweet, it tastes like regret. it tastes like a bloodstained letter from a desperate boy left unopened, like a desperate boy left standing in an empty parking lot, his heart in his hands a star, waiting to fall.

she says, it’s nothing, smiles, and tries not to wince when she sips at her straw again. 

iv. they don’t ever hug in their teenage years. they could barely manage the brush of fingers without the hint of a blush. when they meet again, it’s different. gravity, attraction, all the laws of physics bend his path back to her.

he falls back into her orbit like breathing, an inhale, an exhale, and he’s weightless, he’s flying again.

she saves him. he saves her.

when she’s in his arms, he wonders if she sees stars in his eyes, wonders if she thinks there’s a gentle supernova within his every smile. little does he know, she’s wondering the same things, too.

for every action, he nearly remembers, slow and distant, a memory from light-years away, there is an equal and opposite reaction.

iii. once there was an ocean between him and her, waves of years-old misunderstandings come crashing down through time to separate them. tides rise. tides overflow. there is truth to be had on both sides, she thinks, in the flood of feelings that follows. there is a peace to be found when the tide goes out again, an understanding when they stand beside each other, hand-in-hand, back to the storm-swept past, looking to the starlit seashore of their future.

call it what you will. call it love.

ii. she curls against him, her head on his chest, hair fanned out in ripples of starless sky. they’re universe enough, two celestial things settled into comfortable orbit: some nights she circles him, some nights it’s her. his moon. her jupiter. he’s mapped an infinite number of constellations from her dimples down the small of her back and lower. she’s traced comets and meteors across the scars on his torso, discovered nebulas high on his cheekbones, made them burn bright red under her touch.

still, they turn their eyes skyward, to galaxies beyond. a world within their arms, a world without.he points out the constellations, draws out the shape of their mythological namesakes with one outstretched hand. over here, a legendary hunter, he says. there, a lyre.

here, a goddess, he says, and his eyes are on hers. she blushes. in the flush of her cheeks, he imagines new stars are born. (fusion, fission. love as something stronger than a nuclear reaction.)

tell me about the different types of stars, she says instead of a reply. he nods, pulls her closer, recites facts slow and soft he learned for her years ago: dwarfs, giants, all their different colors. she giggles at dwarf; she always does, asks if she’s a dwarf, a dwarf bunny. he laughs, pokes her nose, says, weren’t you listening, that’s not a kind of star—

his voice gentles to silence. she cranes her neck to look up at the stars in his bright eyes, the planets, the worlds.

maybe we’re binary stars, he says at last. you and i.

i. it’s warm and bright— rays of dawn drift light and dreamy through her open window painting long panes of her rumpled blankets the gold of the morning’s sunshine. he murmurs words, soft, loving, unintelligible, against the crown of her head. she smiles an i love you and a good morning into his chest, presses a kiss to his heart, and snuggles closer. his hand finds hers beneath shared sheets. their fingers tangle. they take their waking slow, their hearts beating as one, a secret language, a morse code of lovers, spelling out the words you are found. you are home. 

[hopelikethemoon]

The Truth (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: The Truth Rating: PG-13 Length: 3300 Warnings: Mild Angst. (Potential Triggers: mentions of period-typical homophobia and child abuse) Notes: You can find the Maybe Today, Maybe Forever Timeline here. Set in March 1997. Part three in the “big angst arc”. Both Javier and Reader’s POVs are reflected in this.  Summary: Monica tells her truth. 

Taglist:  @grapemama​  @seawhisperer​​ @huliabitch​​ @pedropascalito​​ @rogrsnbarnes​​​@thewallpapergoesorido​​ @twomoonstwosuns​​ @gooddaykate​​ @livasaurasrex​​ @ham4arrow​​​@hiscyarika​​ @plexflexico​​ @readsalot73​​ @hdlynn​​ @lokiaddicted​​ @randomness501​​​@fioccodineveautunnale​​​  @roxypeanut​​ @just-add-butter​​ @snivellusim​​​@amarvelousmandalorian​​ @lukesrighthand​​ @historynerd04​​ @mrsparknuts​​​@synystersilenceinblacknwhite​​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​​ @exrebelshocktrooper​​​@awesomefandomsunited​​ @ah-callie​​ @swhiskeys​​ @lady-tano​​ @beskar-droids​​​ @space-floozy @ct-arc-5555​​​ @cable-kenobi​​​

“You gonna talk or am I paying long distance to listen to you breathe, son?”

Javier sighed heavily, clicking his tongue against his teeth. “I don’t fucking know what to say, pops. It’s been a shit show and…”

“And?”

He raked his fingers through his hair, “And I feel like it’s all my fault.”

“How so?”

“How could it not be?” Javier questioned. “We should’ve stopped trying. She wanted to, but I… I wasn’t ready to give up hope. She didn’t want to disappoint me.”

“Who’s idea was it?”

“Who’s idea was what?”

Chucho chuckled, “To have another kid. Since you’re fretting about that.”

“I’m not fretting. She nearly died because of me.”

“Who suggested having another child?”

“She did.” Javier chewed on his bottom lip. “But she wanted to stop trying and I know… she kept trying because of me.” He sank back in the chair, keeping the phone pressed to his ear. “That’s not even half of it. All this bullshit stress is my doing too.”

“Yeah?”

Javier hesitated to tell his father about the stress factors in their lives. Despite how much he had changed over the years — he doubted his father would be as quick to believe him as she was. And he didn’t want to get into it. To explain everything that happened with the DEA. 

“There’s just been a lot going on and…” Javier sighed, rubbing at his eyes. “I never wanna see her like that again.” He shook his head slowly. “They had her hooked up to all these wires and monitors and… I fucking hated it, pops.” 

“Javier, how’s she doing now?” 

“She’s resting. Josie’s curled up with her in bed. I’m glad she didn’t have to see her mother like that.” Javier dragged a hand over his face. “I could’ve lost both of them. Her and the baby.” 

“But you didn’t.” 

“I still could.” Javier pressed. 

“Have you talked to her?”

“Today? No. She needs rest. I’m not stressing her out further about any of this bullshit.” Javier tucked the phone against his ear as he reached for the bottle of beer he’d been nursing, downing the rest of it with a quiet hiss. 

“You should go sleep, Javier.” 

“I’m good, pops.” Javier shrugged his shoulders. His plan was to crash on the sofa. She needed her rest and if he knew Josie — she’d taken over his side of the bed already. He didn’t want to wake either of them up. 

“Talk to her.” Chucho said firmly. “I’m not going to claim to know her as well as you do. I’ve spent all of a month with her over the past few years, but… she’s a good one. Whatever you’re going through, don’t let it fuck this up.” 

“Nothing’s going to fuck this up.” 

His father chuckled, “You don’t do well under pressure.”

“No.” He shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere. That’s not… It’s not like that.” Javier rubbed at the back of his neck, brows furrowed together. “I thought I could fix something. Something that I was partially complicit in.” 

“What did you do?”

“Nothing. Not really.” Javier clenched his fists. “Colombia still has her hooks in us. I should’ve cut the line, but…” 

“Javi?”

He tensed, glancing back over his shoulder to see her standing in the doorway. “Pops, I’ll call you tomorrow. I’ve gotta go.” 

“Love you son.” 

“Love you too.” Javier hung the phone up, staring at it for a moment as he raked his fingers through his hair and steadied himself. “You should be in bed.” He said softly as he looked back at her. 

“Josie snores like you.” She folded her arms across her chest, smiling at him. “I couldn’t sleep.” 

Javier moved towards her slowly, his heart hammering in his chest. “How long have you been out here?”

She chewed on her bottom lip, her eyes flickering over his face. “Long enough.” 

“I just needed to vent,” He explained, swallowing thickly. “Pops is worried about you.” 

“I’ll call him tomorrow.” She smiled a little sadly, resting her hand against her stomach. He hated seeing the ugly bruising on the top of her hand from where she’d had the IV. “Are we going to talk? Before you worry yourself into an early grave.”

Javier pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, looking away. “It’s been a long day. A long week.”

She moved towards him, placing her hands on his shoulders. “Look at me, Javi.” She whispered and he complied. “It’s not your fault.” She squeezed his shoulders three times, before she trailed her fingers up his neck and cupped his cheeks. “None of it is and I refuse to let you beat yourself up over it. Okay?”

“Baby—”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” He sighed heavily. “Fine.”

“I appreciate your willingness to take up my problems, but… it’s not your cross to bear.” She smiled up at him, rubbing her thumbs over his cheekbones. “And I know what you’re thinking… we should back off the DEA article, remove one area of stress—“

“It was them.” Javier admitted. “Monica said someone from the DEA offered to pay her a pretty sizeable chunk of money to start the rumor.”

“Sons of bastards.” She swore, laughing humorlessly. “Well, fuck them. I’m not backing off this.”

Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth, shaking his head. “You are something else baby.”

“I’m not going to let them win. Do I look like someone who is going to slink back into the shadows and let them win?”

“You need to relax.” Javier curled his arm around her waist and drew her into his chest. “But you have to let me carry some of this weight. Let me handle Monica. We’ll resolve this whole rumor bullshit.”

She clung to him, curling a hand around the back of his neck as she pressed her face against his chest. She pulled back a little, looking up at him. “We’re doing this together.” 

Javier sighed heavily, giving her hip a squeeze. “I don’t want to see you in the hospital again. Not like that.” He shook his head. “I can’t do it.” 

She rose up on her toes and kissed him gently. “I’ll take it easy, Javi. I really don’t want to end up in the hospital again either.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “But I’m not going to lay in bed until I give birth. I will lose my fucking mind.” 

He nodded his head slowly, understandingly. “I’ve never known you to be able to keep still for very long.” 

“Case in point.” She gestured to them and laughed. “A normal person would probably be in bed right now.” She made a face.

Javier pulled her towards him and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, before he swept her off her feet, cradling her in his arms. “If Josie’s taken over our bed, I guess we’ll just have to move to the sofa.” He remarked as he carried her out of the kitchen and into the family room. 

He settled back onto the sofa and she rearranged herself more comfortably in his lap. She rested her face against his shoulder, brushing her nose against his neck. “Don’t be angry with her.”

“Who?”

“Monica.” She pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw, before pulling back. “She’s just a kid and…” She chewed on the inside of her bottom lip, shaking her head slowly. “I wanna hear her side of the story.” 

Javier gave her hip a gentle pat, before he slid his hand over her leg reassuringly. “What do you wanna do, then?”

“Let’s invite her over.” She said with a small smile. “That way it’s low stress for me… and we can figure out what’s going on.” She reached out and played with the hair that fell against his forehead. “And how we’re going to stop it. I’m not… I’m not ready to let go of this thing with the DEA. If they think they can play dirty, well…”

“You are an unstoppable force.” He grinned at her. “But you have to take care of you first, baby. I should’ve never started this whole mess while you were pregnant.”

“When did you submit the FOIA requests?”

“Before.” His shoulders sagged. “But I should’ve realized they’d retaliate.”

She shook her head. “No blaming yourself.” she leaned forward and rested her forehead against his. “We’re going to get through this.”

 ——

 “Is this the part where you guys kill me?” Monica questioned, rocking nervously from the balls of her feet to her heels as she looked between them. 

You shook your head slowly. “We really just want answers, Monica. The claims you made—“

“They were just rumors! I told a few people and just let it get around. I didn’t…” Monica raked her fingers through her hair. “I didn’t mean for all of this to happen.”

“But it did happen.” Javier said sharply as he steepled his fingers and he leaned his elbows against the table. “If you have plans to work in law enforcement, you should realize this. The choices you make — even ones that seem minor — cause reactions.” He shook his head. “But you took a bribe.”

“Ten thousand dollars. Really?” You questioned, lips drawn into a thin line. “That’s all it took to turn against us?”

“You have no idea how much I needed the money.” Monica whispered, staring at the table. “I don’t know how they knew.” She dragged her fingers through her hair and pressed her hands against her forehead. 

“What did they know?” You looked towards Javier, brows furrowed. “Is there more to this story, Monica?”

She sniffled quietly, before looking up at you, tears in her eyes. “I’m in a really bad situation right now.” Her eyes flickered briefly towards Javier, but his unreadable expression turned her gaze back to you. “And I don’t say this for sympathy. I don’t deserve any sympathy right now, but…” 

You reached across the table and took her hand, squeezing it gently. “You’re a good kid, Monica. If you’re in trouble, you can tell us.” You kicked Javier under the table, encouraging him to say something as well. 

Javier cleared his throat, rocking his jaw slowly as he stared at her. “I know something’s been going on… the missed classes, the late work… What is it?”

Monica rubbed the sleeve of her sweatshirt under her nose, before wiping away a stray tear. “At the end of last semester, my parents cut financial ties with me.” She admitted. “I… wasn’t in a good situation with them, but…” She shook her head slowly and looked away. “It’s complicated.” 

“Is that why you needed the money?”

“The irony of the rumor.” Monica started, her voice wavering. “I’m just going to say this… I’m just…” She nervously rubbed at her lips before she sank back in her seat, somehow managing to make herself seem smaller. “I’m gay.”

“Is that why your parents kicked you out?” You questioned, your heart aching for this poor kid. You couldn’t even imagine that situation. 

“Oh, Monica…” Javier said quietly, shaking his head. 

Monica nodded her head slowly. “I told them over the holidays and…” She wrung her hands. “It had been years since they hurt me. But I couldn’t keep living a lie.” She wiped at her eyes again, looking at you then. “I’m so sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize.” Javier said quickly. “I should’ve realized something was going on with you. You’ve been off all semester.” He dragged his fingers through his hair and exhaled heavily. “Are you in a safe place now?”

She shook her head. “I’m in a hostel right now. I’m trying to find somewhere to live. The money… I’ll give it back.” 

You shook your head. “No. You’re not giving the money back.You did what they told you to do. That money’s yours.” You looked towards Javier then, trying to read his pensive expression. “What is it?”

“I’m trying to think how to help her.” He gestured towards Monica. “Look, first thing Monday morning we’re talking to the dean. We’ll get the rumor brushed aside and explain it’s the fucking DEA playing games.” Javier looked at you then, brows furrowed. “You think Connie might know someone?”

You shrugged, “Yeah. I mean... Connie knows everyone.” You looked towards Monica then, a small smile playing over your lips. “We’ll help you.”

“Why?”

Javier rubbed at the back of his neck, stretching his back as he readjusted in his seat. “Because we’re good people, Monica. And you’ve gotten caught up in our shit.” 

Monica looked between the two of you, her bottom lip trembling before a flood of tears overwhelmed her. She sobbed into her hands, making absolutely no coherent sense with her words. 

“Go get her some tissues,” You told Javier as you got up from your seat and moved around the table to pull a chair up close to her. “Monica, look… I know this situation really sucks, but you’re going to get through it okay?”

“I shouldn’t have taken the money.” 

“No. You shouldn’t have.” You weren’t going to sugar coat it. “But people make mistakes. Especially when they’re going through things.” You looked up at Javier as he held out the box of tissues. “Here.” You passed her the box.

Javier rested his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently and you reached up to squeeze it. “Monica you’re a smart kid. I’ve read your papers, you know your shit. But you can’t… taking money from the DEA…” You shook your head. 

She wiped at her nose, looking up at you. Her shoulders shook as she tried to control another sob of emotion. “I regretted it the second I did it. The moment I opened my mouth and started the rumor…” She looked towards Javier then. “You’ve been so good to me Professor Peña. Both of you. I just needed the money so I can have somewhere to live… somewhere safe from my parents.” She wiped at her eyes furiously. “I wanted… I wanted to help kids like me, but I… I’m going to lose everything.”

You shook your head, “No. No. Monica. You’re not.” You reached out and stroked the back of her shoulders gently. “I’m not a bitch, contrary to whatever Javier might say.”

“He’s never said that.” Monica said quickly with a short laugh.

You smiled a little, glad that it made her laugh. “Your internship isn’t going anywhere, kid.”

“Really?”

“But you are going to have to help me.” You told her, arching a brow. “This shit with the DEA just proves they need to have a come to Jesus meeting.” You looked back at Javier then, your heart fluttering a little at the look in his eyes as he stared at you. “I’m not stopping.” Your gaze fell back on Monica. “I can’t do a lot right now, but you can.”

“How?”

“I need someone to help do some research for this article.” Your head canted to the side. “Think you can do that for me?”

“I’ll do anything.” Monica sniffed. 

Javier leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, before he moved back around the table to sit down. “Monday morning we go to the dean’s office. We clear this up.” He looked to you then.

“How much do you make at your jobs?”

“Like five and a half dollars an hour.” Monica answered, her brows furrowing together. 

“Josie can be a handful and I’m probably going to need help. We usually pay the sitter eight an hour.” You looked towards Javier, smiling when he nodded his head in agreement with your plan. “I could use the help.” 

“Are you serious?”

“Yep.” Javier said with a shrug. “And I’ll see what Connie can do about finding you a safe place to live. I’d offer you a room here, but… We already have it set up for the baby.” 

Monica shook her head, “No. I wouldn’t want to impose. I have enough saved for like three hundred and fifty a month…”

“We’ll figure it out.” Javier said with an understanding nod. “Now, you mentioned your parents… hurting you?” He leaned against the table, staring at her. “Are you in danger?”

She shook her head. “I’m not. I didn’t… they don’t know where I am.” Monica hugged her arms around herself. “They know where I go to school, but they don’t… They wouldn’t come here.” 

You rubbed her back reassuringly. “If you need anything.” 

You couldn’t wrap your head around how someone could hurt their child. You knew it happened. You had seen the results of it, but… it just made you think of Josie. The thought of making that little girl even cry by saying ‘no’ made your heart ache. “You’re going to be okay, Monica.” 

“Thank you.” She wiped at her eyes with the sleeves of her hoodie again. 

“Do you want to stay for dinner?”

Monica shook her head, “I have work tonight.”

“Any time.” You told her, offering her a kind smile. 

“How are you doing?” Monica asked, sniffling a little. 

You shrugged, rubbing at your stomach. “I’m pregnant, I have high blood pressure, and my partner would be happy to see me never leave bed.” You looked towards Javier with a grin. “And not even in the fun way.” 

Monica laughed, looking between the two of you. “I wish my parents had been like you guys. Your daughters are lucky.”

“It’s not always sunshine and puppy dogs.” You rolled your eyes. “Speaking of puppy dogs…” You shot Javier a look. “I’m dropping hints.” 

“I think I’m going to go…” Monica said quietly. “I need to decompress before work.” 

“I know the feeling.” You squeezed her arm, before you got up from your seat. “If you need anything you have my number.”

“Thank you. Thank you both.” Monica stepped towards you and hugged you tightly. You wrapped your arms around her and held her. “I’m proud of you, kid.” 

Monica’s smile was thanks enough. 

You headed down the hallway to Josie’s room, while Javier walked Monica out. 

Josie was sound asleep, clutching at her stuffed animal. Her curly hair peeking out from above the edge of her blanket. She loved burrowing under the blankets. You just couldn’t understand it… how could someone hurt their own flesh and blood.

Javier wrapped his arms around you as he came up behind you. “That was… an interesting conversation.” He remarked, kissing your neck. “That poor kid.”

“I knew there had to be more to her story.” You chewed on your bottom lip. “She knew a lot about the emergency room. It seemed like a nervous habit, the way she told me about every little thing in the room.”

“You’re too damn observant.” 

You laughed and leaned back against him. “I am good at what I do, Javi.” You tensed a little, rubbing at your stomach. “Your daughter has an incredibly strong kick.”

Javier rested his hand over your stomach just below where your hand was, “Where?”

You curled your hand around the back of his, sliding it up to where the baby was kicking. It was a faint flutter at first, but then a swift movement followed. 

“Damn.” Javier whispered, keeping his hand pressed there. Hoping to feel it again. “You know… I never fucking expected someone to sit in front of me and say they wished I was their parent.” 

You tilted your head to look at him at him with a grin. “I think we just gained a third daughter.” 

“Oh, did we?” He snorted. “I didn’t sign any papers.” 

“It was a silent thing.” You teased, reaching back to stroke his cheek. “She needs a support system.”

“Steve and Connie like adopting.” 

“Javi.” 

“She’s also nineteen.” 

“Minor detail.” You laughed softly, pulling Josie’s room closed. “What do you think they’ll do next?”

“The DEA?” He questioned and you nodded. “Fuck if I know, but… we’re taking them down.” 

A chill ran down your spine. “It’s not going to be easy.”

“Nothing good ever is.” Javier reminded you. 

[prompt-master]

Would you be willing to share how you might rewrite Yukizome, Sakakura, and Munakata to make them likable characters (if not ppl Bc there’s a big difference)???

ahhhhhhh this ask got me so stupidly excited that I was like wavin my hands around. I think about how to rewrite their characters OFTEN. very often. I’m gonna go with likeable character over likeable people because I think they work better where they’re actually not that likeable people. 

The one I think about the MOST is Munakata. He was SUCH wasted potential and I partially blame the medium for that (a single season anime is too constrained for future, it needed more time and care to be a proper story). But Munakata is actually so close to being a compelling character but they made some MAJOR mistakes with him. This ended up getting really long and more like a 3 page ADHD ramble essay. SO IM VERY SORRY to anyone who cannot read this but TYTYTY if you did because these ideas make me very happy! Oh it’s only about Munakata btw because of how long it got

The thing about Munakata is that he is designed to be a foil to Naegi. In fact a majority of dr3 future FOCUSES on this foil dynamic. It is Naegi’s hope vs Munakata’s hope. The World’s hope vs The FF’s hope. And more importantly it is True Hope vs Corrupted Hope.

This is a fantastic concept...so why didn’t it work in canon? I think that the biggest most glaring issue with Munakata’s hope is his logic. Munakata is meant to be a logical man, although with corrupted morals that lead him astray. Yet in canon his logic is laughably infallible. For example as a major figure in the FF and someone who wants to spread hope....why would he tell Naegi to kill himself? More importantly why does he continue to try and slaughter Naegi? The issue here isn’t from the fact that he wants him dead but from the fact that he is under the IMPRESSION that this entire game is being broadcast to the world.

Think about this for a second. In Munakata’s eyes he is going to kill the Ultimate Hope, an international symbol of a better life, live on TV. He doesn’t just want to kill the Ultimate Hope..he wants to do it BRUTALLY as a MAJOR FIGURE OF THE FF. IMO this should have happened later on as the game furthers the emotional turmoil in Munakata’s head and he eventually snaps and gives in to the desire to kill Naegi despite the fact that this is live. And then there should be CONSEQUENCES for that. I wanted so badly a realization where Munakata realizes that he is hurting the Ultimate Hope in front of what he believes is the entire world. 

Another issue with Munakata’s logic is saying things such as...implying that the HPA KG was...just a game. I mean...people DIED. it's not hard to see how wrong that logic is. you can't say “this is the real world now” when what Naegi experienced WAS the real world. I think that this could be fixed through a bit of world building. DR3 Future is rather isolated from its world. We don’t really know much about the world and its dynamics. I think it would make perfect sense if the general public viewed the HPA KG as a tv show, they got numb to the sight and even those untouched by despair had a hard time connecting that these are REAL people suffering. With this previously established Munakata expressing that the KG was not real would make a lot more sense and play into his corrupted idea of hope. 

There is also Munakata’s connection to his other friends. Now I’ve talked about this before but the game was clearly designed to BREAK Munakata and Naegi. This way the FF would die, both the FF and World’s hope would be broken, and upon seeing this Mitarai would have no choice but to deploy his own forced hope. So it makes perfect sense that Yukizome’s death would break him (in fact if she hadn’t died in that way, her NG code was designed to be Munakata’s fault). But something about it felt...superficial. Again I think this is the mediums fault but it almost feels as though Munakata just forgets about Yukizome until later. I think they should spend more time establishing his pain and what he has lost and why this pushes him to kill. In his eyes if she can die then nothing else matters. It should be THE breaking point, not the first push. I do like the betrayal he feels towards realizing she had despair but it needed more time to fester. 

And his relationship with Sakakura also felt weak. In all honesty it was hard for me to feel as though they were ever friends. Sakakura is written as though he just follows Munakata like a loyal dog and Munakata just orders him around. Establish their relationship more! Why are they such good friends? Why is Sakakura important to him? And more importantly why did Munakata decide to cruelly gut Sakakura knowing he was about to confess? This is because he believed that Sakaura was despair and that his confession was more manipulation, but they didn’t show this well at ALL. Munakata just comes across as a major a-sshole who does not care. I also personally found it distasteful that when changing his heart Munakata only seemed to cry for Yukizome. I understand that was his love interest but Yukizome at the end of the day killed herself. Sakakura however was an unnecessary betrayal he took into his own hands AS HE HIMSELF KILLED HIM. He should have more guilt over that! Not just in that moment where he runs to Sakakura, but ahead of time as well! Maybe even DURING his rampage they could have shown him having moments of guilt but he is so absorbed in the idea that all despairs have to die that he doesn’t even realize he has become despair in the name of hope.

A BIG weakness on Munakata’s part comes with interacting with other characters. He is a man who should know how to take charge, lead, and doesn't know what to do when things are getting too crazy even though he THINKS he does. Munakata is heavily flawed, OBVIOUSLY flawed, but many of the interactions with him are as tho his rampage isnt a big deal. There should be reasons for this! Why do people trust Munakatas guidance so much? I dont know! All ive seen from him is that hes insane! Maybe even pieces where around others hes a lot nicer so you can understand why they follow him, even though hes ready to gut Naegi alive with a flaming katana. His interactions with others feel like the writers just wanted to see the next big evil thing they could think of, but for Munakata’s character this doesn't make sense because he was appointed a high status in the foundation for a reason. Maybe even have people say they disagree with some of his methods but at the end of the day he gets the job done!

There is another major missed opportunity here and it's why Muanakata wants Naegi dead so badly in the first place. The remnants. Hiding terrorists in the apocalypse is a PERFECTLY valid reason to want someone dead and think they're a bad guy! But I think since Naegis initial arrest was already so hostile and violent we get the sense that the FF is simply just...crazy. 

And let’s think about what Munakata WANTS from Naegi. He does not just want Naegi dead he wants something worse. He wants Naegi to suffer first. He thinks that Naegi doesnt understand his own personal pain. He thinks that because Naegi protected the remnants he must also not care about the suffering the remnants caused. He wants Naegi to feel despair and then die. This is important to his corrupted hope. He thinks the suffering must be shared in order to understand who must die, but he is creating a cycle of pain. Tie this back to the broadcasting issue. He wants Naegi to break for everyone to see. I think..and this is just a concept..I think it would have been a great idea for Munkata to force Naegi to watch the despair video so that he has no choice but to understand. 

AND themes are majorly important to Danganronpa. And I don’t think its a stretch to say that there are parallels between Munakata and Naegi. In fact I would say that there are aspects of the og trio in this new trio. I think it would have been really cool if they showed how our favorite trio could have ended up if they had been corrupted as well. But the parrellels dont stick strongly. I think it would have been cool to show a past where Munakata’s idealism lies more strongly than Naegis. As the student council president there was a time where he himself had to use his words to solve problems. Perhaps he learned that sometimes his words made things worse. Munakata does not have Naegi’s talent of emotional intelligence. He is a man of action over words. So he interprets this as WORDS being the problem rather than understanding he does not have these skills. Especially when the apocalypse breaks out, it becomes all action over words. So he sees Naegi who is all talk as a genuine threat who will let everyone die through his “weak ineffective” idea of hope. 

Another parallel could be drawn from the fact that they both have hope based careers. Their job is too keep things hopeful. Maybe Naegi stays safe doing public broadcasted speeches, while Munakata is on the field weeding out despairs. This would cause Munakata to feel as though Naegi is doing no real work yet getting all the credit for being a savior.

Munakata constantly complains that Naegi does not know true pain. But he and we as an audience have followed Naegi through his entire process of trauma. We know he is in the wrong. But what do we as an audience know about Munakata’s suffering? We are shown almost nothing! There are some implications, but for how intense he is implications are not enough. We need to see his suffering. We should see how he has witnessed death. Yukizomes death is not nearly enough for this because he talks as though he has suffered for years. How can we as an audience understand that when we have never seen it? How can we understand Munakata when he is outright denying Naegi’s trauma that we KNOW existed with no proper justification for his reasoning?

I also believe that Munakata should have died. It actually upsets me a bit that he was PLANNED to die but didn't. He should have died protecting Naegi after all that suffering and relentless brutality he offered him. Munakata again is a man of action over word, and protecting Naegi with his last breath is the perfect way to show how in the end he changed. Especially when all he wanted initially was for Naegi to die. I find that much more satisfying than just…...walking off to who knows where.

So lets recap some changes. Munakata needs a proper display of his past traumas and his relationship with Sakakura and Yukizome. Munakata needs a proper display of his work relationships and the respect he has earned. Munakata needs to fall into corruption at a better pace, and have geniune reasons for his illogical attacks on Naegi. Munakata needs to care more for his friends. Munakata needs to deal with the turmoil of wanting to hurt Naegi while he believes the world is watching. Munakata needs to die for Naegi

This has gotten long...and I still have things to say. There is so much to make Munakata a good character. Future had a lot of potential and is amazing for a rewrite concept. As for Sakakura and Yukizome since this has gotten long feel free to ask for another round of this individually when asks are open again! If you read all of this somehow….TYSM

[atinytokki]

Across the Night

iv. The Monarch Embarks 

Kon was every bit the bustling harbour town Seonghwa imagined it to be.

Mr. Hwang was dragging his trunk up the dock for him as he glanced around, doe-eyed, at all the sights of the town.

“Dread Pirate Eden still roaming free!” A young man suddenly appeared, yelling at the top of his lungs with no qualms about personal space. “Navy increases reward incentive!”

He waved a news bulletin in Seonghwa’s face, but backed off when he stumbled away, hurrying after Mr. Hwang and inquiring about the headline.

“You haven’t heard of Eden?” The man snorted, handing off some barrels to the sailors who were loading the boat. “He’s only the most infamous pirate still in business.”

Hwang motioned to the many posters with a crudely drawn illustration plastered all over the walls of buildings in every corner of the city. The man pictured looked unassuming for a pirate, but angry red script demanding his capture warned otherwise, and Seonghwa shivered before passing off his bag.

It seemed that even pirates were unlike his childhood fantasy tales made them out to be.

Just as he made ready to board the Monarch, the beautifully careened vessel he’d be living on for their supply delivery, a familiar voice broke through the noise of the harbour and stopped him in his tracks.

“Seonghwa! Wait!”

It sounded like a female voice.

Eyes widening, Seonghwa turned and ran back down the gangplank to meet the approaching woman in a hug.

It was Chaeyoung.

“How did you get here?” He laughed, impressed that she had come all the way down the river just to see him off.

“I told the driver to hurry, because my best friend is not allowed to leave without saying goodbye,” she shot back, punching him lightly in the shoulder and laughing when he pouted and rubbed the spot.

It still hurt, and more than it did when they played around as children.

“Chaeyoung, I don’t know what I’ll do without you,” Seonghwa confessed, sobering as he could sense the time of departure was nearing.

Nodding, she bit her lip and lowered her head, eyes coming to rest on the whistle around her neck.

“You know my father spends many days at sea,” she reminded him before pulling off the necklace and holding it up for him to see. “This is a boatswain’s whistle he gave me as a present. Except I’d like to give it to you... as a goodbye.”

Seonghwa’s eyes filled with tears instantly. “Chaeyoung, I can’t take this—”

“I insist!” She cut him off, placing the whistle in his palm and folding his hands over it. “You’ll get more use out of it than I will.”

“I want to see you again,” Seonghwa told her thickly, struggling through the newly formed ball in his throat.

“I hope one day you will,” Chaeyoung smiled at him sweetly, her face like the light of the moon. “But I think you’ve got a lot of exploring to do first. I’ve found my calling, and so has Donghyun. Now it’s your turn.”

Out of words to say, Seonghwa pulled her into a tight hug, grinning slightly at the fact that he finally had a few inches on her, and put the necklace on with finality.

“Say goodbye to Chan for me,” he sighed as they parted, Chaeyoung lifting her skirts to step into the carriage. “Safe travels!”

“Safe travels to you as well!” She called back, waving through the window and growing smaller as the driver urged the horses up the hill and back towards Doljeon.

Seonghwa wondered if he’d ever see her again.

“All aboard the Monarch! Weighing anchor in five minutes!”

Jolted out of his reverie, Seonghwa hurried up the gangplank and looked around the ship for Mr. Hwang.

Not seeing him anywhere on the main level, Seonghwa was about to climb the stairs to the quarterdeck and ask the man at the wheel, presumably the captain, when a hand clamped down on his shoulder and spun him around.

“Any man who is not an officer may only stand on the quarterdeck when summoned,” the intimidating sailor told him gruffly, and stuttering apologetically, Seonghwa backed away.

Just when he thought he was safe and had avoided any more embarrassment, his backwards step caused his foot to get caught in a loop of rope and bring him crashing down.

The sailors who watched him stumble all over their rigging merely snickered as he tried to untangle himself hurriedly.

“Need a hand?” Mr. Hwang finally appeared and helped the poor boy up, brushing him off and escorting him belowdecks.

“We’ll be underway any minute now,” he explained as he helped Seonghwa secure his hammock. “I’m sure you aren’t used to sharing your space, but the Monarch is made to carry cargo, not people, and all the lower ranks bunk together. My hammock will be over here if you need me.”

Seonghwa followed the man’s gesture with his eyes and nodded in acknowledgement before setting his personal bag on his hammock. There were a few odds and ends he’d brought from home to make the space feel familiar, since Mother had warned him there wouldn’t be much more than a ratty blanket on offer. The faceless pirate he’d saved from his childhood toys peeked back at him.

“This is your first time on a ship, isn’t it?” Hwang observed knowingly from the doorway.

Seonghwa sighed and affirmed it. As much as he’d dreamed about the sea during his lazy afternoons, he’d never actually laid eyes on it. And whether that would become a problem or not was unclear as of yet.

“Well, you’ll probably want to see the action then,” the older man concluded, beckoning Seonghwa back onto the main deck with him where they stood out of the way and watched the sailors make ready to leave port.

“Man the capstan!” The man from before on the quarterdeck was yelling. “Hands aloft to loose the mainsails!”

The rest of the men seemed to know what those commands meant and snapped to, some of them bringing up the anchor by the strength of their backs, and others climbing the rigging with agile ease and unfurling sails to catch the wind.

The Monarch began to move, and Seonghwa looked out over the railing as Kon began to grow smaller. It was entrancing, unlike the slow meandering carriage that had brought him there, how quickly the wind caught the sails and bore them away, like the three hundred pound sloop was weightless.

“Boom about!”

The loud yell startled Seonghwa, and he turned around just in time to see the beam underneath the mainsail swinging at full speed in his direction.

Mr. Hwang’s hand on his arm tightened and yanked him out of way, both of them continuing to duck while Seonghwa willed his heart rate to return to normal.

“Keep your eye on that thing, it can sweep you right overboard,” Hwang cautioned. “In fact, I think you’d better stay close to me, today and for your entire apprenticeship. You’ll need to learn not just the art of the cooper, but how to survive at sea. I’ll reckon it’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced before.”

Seonghwa swallowed nervously and nodded again, rubbing his head where the boom had almost smacked him, and hesitantly got to his feet.

A few sailors who had witnessed the whole thing were chuckling at him and his face went cherry red.

Thinking to hide away downstairs and escape yet again, Seonghwa turned back towards the hatch that led belowdecks, only to have Hwang take him by the arm again and drag him over to the stairs to the quarterdeck.

“Permission to speak with the captain?” The cooper requested formally and the burly man guarding the staircase allowed the two of them to pass.

“Good morning, Captain Bae,” Mr. Hwang greeted, nudging Seonghwa forward to be introduced. “I thought you’d like to meet the newest member of our crew, my apprentice and our cook.”

“You say you found someone to cook for us?” The captain hummed without looking up from where he studied some maps.

“Yessir,” Mr. Hwang repeated a little bit louder. “Here he is, Park Seonghwa.”

Finally the man glanced up at the pair through his wiry spectacles and reached out a hand politely.

Seonghwa shook it carefully, minding the captain’s ink stained sleeve cuffs, and peeked down at the chart he appeared to be marking.

“Well that is good news,” Captain Bae chuckled as he returned to his work. “I’m sure Hwang here told you, but old man Tak Moon has been doing the cooking the past couple of years after the previous chef was shot full of lead by pirates in the Somhae pass. You’ll want to get to know him.”

Seonghwa opened his mouth and closed it again as the words hit him full force. “After he was— pardon me, after what?”

Captain Bae laughed and slapped him on the back, inevitably leaving behind an ink trace while Seonghwa squirmed. “Nothing to be afraid of. The Navy cleared the archipelago of nearly all pirates infesting our trade routes. At any rate, they’re on the decline and we have full cargo and smooth sailing ahead of us. Say, Namgoong, did our textiles client happen to send a message along with his shipment last night?”

With the captain once again distracted and conversing with the man who guarded the quarterdeck, Seonghwa took that as his opportunity to nudge Mr. Hwang back down to the main deck to follow their orders and find this old man Tak.

The way the deck rolled underneath them was making Seonghwa dizzy, but he stiffened and struggled through back to the hatch where Hwang led him to the galley.

Pausing with his hand just above the doorknob, he turned back and flashed a halfhearted smile. “Don’t let him startle you, he likes picking on greenies.”

Seonghwa had no time to question what that meant before the door was swung open and he was greeted with a very sharp smell.

A bearded old sailor sat on the floor against a black wall, sorting through piles of cheese very studiously despite being surrounded by food of every other kind.

The galley was... unorganised to say the least.

“Who’s this? The sorry lad you found to replace me?”

Seonghwa’s polite smile faded and the sight of it made the old man cackle.

“He’s a much better cook than you are, Tak,” Mr. Hwang joked back. “But you and I both know this was a only temporary job anyway, you belong above decks.”

As he inspected the piles of food stored away, Seonghwa realised that Mr. Tak apparently only knew how to make soup. And from the looks of things, the kitchen had been on fire at least once.

“I’ll leave you to breakfast then,” Hwang concluded with a hardy slap to both their backs and headed for the door.

“Do you have any fresh fruit?” Seonghwa asked the old man hesitantly, and in response he got a mouse trap shoved in his face.

“Can’t you see I’m busy with the rats? Fresh fruit — wait until you’re stuck weeks out of the colonies with no supplies because of a tax kerfuffle! Then you’ll be wishing for fresh fruit!”

Suppressing a sigh, Seonghwa resolved to search on his own and left Tak to his tinkering. It was calming, to do something he was familiar with for once and let Mr. Hwang serve the morning meal to the crew so he didn’t have to show his face on deck again. Breakfast could have been better, but he wagered it was an improvement on whatever they’d been eating previously as he wrinkled his nose and threw himself into planning the next meal.

The entire day was consumed with cooking and planning and familiarising himself with the galley. Tak stayed out of his way for the most part, and by late evening Seonghwa was tired enough to seek refuge in his hammock, mind racing throughout the night with ideas for the rest of the week.

But of course, while he stirred his dumplings three days out, tragedy struck in the form of seasickness.

He had been feeling uncomfortable all morning, with the humid and confined space, the boat rushing upwind, the smell of the food and swirling vertigo all becoming too much to handle.

Seonghwa shouted out something about being nauseous and Tak was there to guide him upstairs to the rail of the main deck.

“Vomit to leeward!” He cautioned gruffly, steering his young charge downwind by the neck and letting him heave into the ocean waves.

Seonghwa slumped to the deck at some point, exhausted and still considerably dizzy, and let Tak drag him below again when he was sure he was done.

“I may just be an old salt, but you’re no mariner, boy,” the man clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “You’re, what, sixteen and have never been at sea?”

“He’s just the cook, there’s no reason for him to have prior knowledge about sailing,” Mr. Hwang’s voice explained from somewhere and when the room stopped spinning, Seonghwa realised they were in the hold where the bunks where. “What did you do to him, Tak Moon?”

“It wasn’t me, he’s green at the gills like I warned you he would be,” Tak defended himself in that sassy tone of voice he always used. “Now, if you’ll let me go make the landlubber some ginger tea, you can be the one to tuck him in bed.”

Seonghwa didn’t think his stomach could handle anything at all right now, but just as he bit his lip to keep from whining, the cooper crossed in front of him and blocked his route to bed.

“Hang on, let’s switch your hammock around. Fore-to-aft so you don’t feel the pitch of the ship as harshly. It’ll pass when the waters are calmer for sure, but I don’t want to eat Tak’s food for dinner tonight, so the sooner you’re on your feet again, the better.”

It was supposed to be funny but Seonghwa was too fatigued to even crack a smile and so he collapsed in his bed, swinging much less violently than it was before Hwang moved it, and squeezed his eyes shut.

Time passed unnaturally quickly, because when he opened them again, the teacup sitting next to him had grown cold and night had fallen.

Closing his eyes for a time had improved his condition considerably, but the presence of so many men snoring in their hammocks made Seonghwa slightly claustrophobic again, so he took his tea and tiptoed to the kitchen, warming it over the fire and drinking it quickly.

Glancing at the corner, he wrinkled his nose at the presence of rats caught in the traps, but noticed another stinky scent, not from the rodents or the accumulated cheese.

Following his nose took him to the lower decks, where the quartermaster Namgoong was consoling the agitated livestock.

In the past few days, Seonghwa had learned that the intimidating officer who guarded the quarterdeck was actually much more soft and compassionate on the inside than he had anticipated.

Though he maintained his gruff appearance with the crew, he had a special affection for the animals, even knowing they were likely to be slaughtered for meat when they reached their destination.

“They don’t like rough weather either,” Seonghwa observed quietly, and the other man turned his head in surprise, not expecting to see him.

“No, it makes them uneasy. Feeling better?”

The boy ducked his head as nervousness took over again but nodded while Namgoong was looking on.

“I think so...”

The sailor made a knowing sound and gave the cattle a final pat before turning to face him.

“Half of overcoming seasickness is mental. Just tell yourself you’re fine and you will be.”

“Right,” Seonghwa sighed. “It still won’t help save my life if I do fall overboard. I can’t swim well enough.”

“You don’t know how to swim?” Namgoong whispered back, shocked, before snorting and leading his charge back to the hold. “Well, that’s your first order of business when we reach our port of call, then. Off to bed now.”

Seonghwa didn’t put up a fight, ready to melt away his exhaustion again, and when he awoke the next morning, all his remedies seemed to have paid off.

The Monarch sailed smoothly for the rest of her short journey, and by the date their shipment was due they had docked on the archipelago and unloaded successfully.

While some of the more business-minded crew dealt with the sales and negotiations, Seonghwa found himself a free stretch of public beach on the island where they’d docked, Namhae, and under the ever watchful eye of Mr. Hwang, practiced his swimming.

He had appointed himself as a guardian (or else Mother had appointed him herself) and took it upon himself to teach the swimming lesson personally, showcasing various strokes and techniques and sternly warning Seonghwa against ever jumping overboard before realising the day had gone and going into town to find them an inn.

It was comfortable around Hwang. Seonghwa hesitated to think of him as a father figure, but couldn’t help but enjoy having him there. He taught him the kinds of things fathers usually taught their sons, and where Seonghwa’s mother had left off, he picked up smoothly and naturally.

Sometimes Seonghwa found himself wishing Mr. Hwang was his father, not the mysterious king who lived far away in the palace and wouldn’t even recognise him, but he stopped his thinking and rolled over in bed to face the wall.

The sea offered freedom, there was no reason to tether himself to someone when his focus should be the escape that seeing the world could offer.

The remainder of deliveries along the archipelago and the return trip were relatively uneventful, but their arrival at Kon found Seonghwa dressed and ready to go and embark on another voyage to some more distant place, nervously pacing at the door by the time Hwang appeared for breakfast, and the older man sat him down and chuckled at him before explaining, “We’ll be called back when we have another job and not a moment sooner. That’s just the nature of shore leave.”

Harvest was just around the corner, and the crew was permitted to celebrate with their families. It left the question of what Seonghwa ought to do when Hwang’s carriage came to bring him back to Doljeon, where his wife and daughters waited.

“Would you like us to drop you off at Lina’s?” Mr. Hwang yelled, sticking his head out the window and catching the gaze of a very anxious Seonghwa, standing on the dock with his things piled up awkwardly in his hands again.

“Yes, please!” He exclaimed, relieved, before loading up and sliding into a seat.

Fireworks were shooting off ahead, lighting up the sky in an explosively dazzling celebration while the town danced and sang, and the colours that streaked down were mesmerising.

Deep down, Seonghwa hoped it would bode well on his reunion with Mother.

He was wrong.

Seonghwa believed his first short sailing trip had already changed him, but from the moment he walked in the door only to be encased like a glass sculpture in her arms, he knew she didn’t see it that way.

“Still so fragile. I thought you would at least have more of a tan...” she sighed into his coat as she squeezed him in a hug.

“Mother, I will, it’s just that it’s only been a short trip, not to mention the weather.”

Mr. Hwang saw the storm clouds gathering between them and tipped his hat in farewell.

It quickly became apparent why Mother had allowed this arrangement in the first place. She hoped Seonghwa would not be up to the task after all, changing his mind and remaining in Doljeon with her once he’d tasted hardship. She thought life at sea would ultimately return him home, not separate him from her further.

It was a losing battle, but she fought and clawed hard over dinner while they stared each other down and didn’t touch the harvest feast Seonghwa had cooked in an angry blur.

Mother had no choice but to reveal her true intentions when he had deflected every concern expertly and the frankness of it all was nauseating.

“No, I’m sorry, but I don’t think sailing is right for you. I mean, what if you fall overboard? You can’t even swim.”

“But Mr. Hwang actually taught me while we were in Namhae—”

“Then there’s the matter of your pay, it’s quite low,” Mother shot back. “Are you not working enough to match their expectations? I’m sorry, this is all my fault to have left you incapable—”

“Mother, that’s enough!” Seonghwa finally snapped, standing from the table and throwing down his napkin. “How can you expect me to be thriving when you’ve given me so little time? I haven’t even started helping with the cooper business yet, can’t you wait for the revenue to come in before making your judgment?”

“Seonghwa, dear—”

“No!” He burst out in a scream that shook the windows. “I’ve had enough! I am not weak and helpless, I’m learning and discovering myself. You already destroyed my life when you stole me, you have no right to meddle in it now. If you won’t give me a say in my own future, just stay away from me!”

Shocked to be scorned so completely, Mother didn’t even move from her chair as Seonghwa ran from the house in tears.

He had never been sure of what he wanted, but at the moment he knew without question that he wanted to be away from her.

It had all just been another plot to manipulate him into self-doubt and self-hatred, to persuade him to choose to remain in her control, when in reality it had backfired to disastrous proportions.

Seonghwa had somewhere to go now, for however long he could.

He wouldn’t see that woman again.

...

A/N: The future is taking shape! Like the double meaning of the chapter title? Let me know what you thought in the comments and have a good week :)

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[smoljamswrites]

all is fair in love & war | bts x reader | chapter one

pairing: bts x female reader

genre: (eventual) smut, fluff, angst, series fic, mafia!au

warnings for this chapter: kidnapping mention, mention of murderers, mention of being beaten, character being wreckless? and doing stupid shit? alcohol, character feels like she’s being watched, swearing, um idk if anything else could be a trigger? 

a/n: I’ll try and update this regularly + thank you guys so much for your support so far!!  Also, future chapters will be longer than this one!!

the playlist is here, if anybody wants the link!x

All these years living with Sin Syndicate you have been kept under lock and key. Which is understandable really, you’ve probably been labelled as a missing person for years now. Life is pretty boring for you though, you’d think living with a huge mafia gang you’d be up close and personal with all the dramas and crimes. But that isn’t the case; you just stay in this huge house all day, which sounds lovely, until you remember you share it with murderers. The only time that you have left this house was that one time you were 13 and you had snuck out. To your misfortune, you got caught within an hour, and got brought back home to be beaten. But what Sin Syndicate never found out is that you took some of their money and you brought yourself a phone that day. Not one that could be traced though – just in case they ever did find it – you bought an old Nokia phone, and now you spend most of your days playing snake. You never tried to actually run away from them though because you know that if they ever did find you again, which is very likely, then they would definitely kill you this time.

At the moment, Sin Syndicate has every reason to believe that Bangtan are going to attack soon. 3 syndicate members this week have mysteriously “vanished” without a trace, and well, it would be no surprise if they are now facing the wrath of the rival gang. Everyone is currently losing their minds, preparing for an attack. And it’s much harder to be ready for an attack when you don’t even know what the rivals look like. Bangtan have been good at shielding their identities; always wearing masks when they are on jobs. Luckily for you, they seemingly have forgotten about your presence in the midst of all this chaos. So, for the first time in almost 7 years, you sneak out of your window in search of fun, and that brings us to now.

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

You shouldn’t be here. There’s so much sweat on your skin, and not all of it is yours. The music is blaring, pulsating through your body. You’ve never been here before; it’s only recently opened and usually you wouldn’t be out at this time of night, but everyone had been so ‘preoccupied’ that you just took your chances. You left. Escaped even. Now you’re here, living life like a normal girl your age would, and god does it feel good. You feel alive. The club was like your heartbeat put on loudspeaker. As the floor vibrated with bass notes, your body sways with the rhythm, alcohol running through your veins like it was being fed through an IV drip.

This was your first mistake – escaping. The second being you’re here all alone. Truth be told, you were a strong-headed young lady and when push came to shove you could hold your own; that’s what growing up with Sin Syndicate has taught you. But this is different. Especially when this club is owned by them – Bangtan. But of course, you don’t know that. Nobody knows that, and well, if you do, then you better keep your mouth shut.

They’ve been wanting you for years. You’d be great leverage. Imagine being able to capture your rival’s most prized possession, their weakness. The accident that happened all those years ago, where they got caught and panicked. They didn’t finish the job; they didn’t finish you. And now Bangtan wants that hold over them. They want you, and all the information you have, whether you’re willing to give them it or not. And you’ve just handed yourself to them on a plate. And that is your third mistake.

You’ve never felt like this before – you feel on top of the world and you’re 100% certain that no punishment could make you ever regret this. Everyone’s bodies touched while moving to the melody of the music. You haven’t heard music in such a long time, and even though you have no idea what songs are being played, you can’t stop dancing. Everyone else seems to be mouthing all the words, and you have to admit it is a good song, it’s a shame you’ll probably never hear it again.

However, you cannot shake this feeling that someone is watching you. Call it crazy or maybe paranoia, it could even be called a ‘Spidey Sense’, but you feel like somebody is watching your every move. With a quick glance around, you see that almost every girl has caught someone’s attention. You try to tell yourself it’s nothing – probably just a predatory, hungry gaze from someone who is dying to take you home tonight…at least that’s what happens on the TV right? Deciding that you need another drink to loosen up a bit, you head to the bar.

Someone is watching you alright, and so is his friend upstairs that overlooks the dancefloor. The one downstairs watches you with a confused stare. Surely it can’t really be you? He’s seen a picture of your face a million times over, and yet actually seeing it right here in front of him doesn’t feel real to him. Is he dreaming? The taller man, who stands in the darkness of the upper floor, wears a different look. His grin shows his evident elation; basking in the joy that you are completely unaware of the situation you have unknowingly put yourself in.

As you push and squeeze past all the bodies blocking the way, you see the non-flickering lights above the bar, becoming instantly grateful that they aren’t like the strobe ones on the dancefloor. Taking a seat on one of the barstools you look over to the bartenders, and you see that one is on his way over to you. You quickly dig through your bag, in search for your money.

“Hi what can I get you?”    

You don’t even get chance to look up to see which bartender the voice belonged to, when a deeper, much more stronger sounding voice took over.

“I’ll take this one, go serve them over there”

Instantly your head snaps up, and your eyes meet with his. This bartender has long, dark brown hair but your eyes are immediately drawn to his figure. He must work out a lot to get a body like that. His chest looked solid, and he had tattoos down his one arm. God, he looked heavenly.

“You okay there?” he smirked, eyes never leaving yours, “what can I get you?”

“rum and coke” you snap and look away, feeling heat rising in your face.

He turns away swiftly to make you your drink, muttering something under his breath that sounded awfully similar to ‘feisty’. When he turns back around and places the drink in front of you, he leans on the counter, making it so you’re now near enough the same height. You move back abruptly and hold out your hand to give him the money, but he just shakes his head.

“It’s on the house, don’t worry about it” he smiles, and even though he seemed really cocky before, this smile of his appears to be genuine. Its weird though, you think, that he wanted to serve you and he even gave you a drink for free. Is he allowed to do that? You’ve never been one to be timid and so you don’t bat an eyelid when you question his motive.

“Can’t I give out free drinks to pretty customers now? I can make you pay if you really want, but I’d rather you have it for free. Besides, I think the real question is why are you here alone?” his voice is sultry and smooth, slipping from his lips like warm honey.

How does he know you here alone? Warning sounds in your mind, and you tell yourself to be cautious around this man. There’s something about him that you just can’t put your finger on.

“My friends are on the dancefloor actually. Now if you’d excuse me-“

“No! Stay,” you turn around and look at him, what the fuck is happening?

“Please stay here, I know it sounds weird, but I noticed you earlier when you came in. You seemed out of place, and you were alone. You’ve had guys watching you all night, and I really want to keep an eye on you, make sure you’re okay. Wouldn’t want you to fall into the wrong hands now, would we?”

The way he said that last sentence sent shivers down your spine. It seemed a little odd. But he did have a point, coming here alone was stupid, and a little protection wouldn’t exactly be bad, would it?

Once you’ve sat back down, he straightens up, giving you some space.

“So what are you doing here alone?”

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

The room was black for the most part, except for the chocolatey wooden desk and sparkly silver chandelier. Two black, leather couches faced each other, and at the head of the room, stood a big office-type chair next to the desk. A small golden panther adorned the corner of the desk.

The sudden knock of the door, and a young man bursting in interrupted the 3 older men’s conversation. With a sigh, the man sat at the desk addressed the younger man who smiled like an excited child, “What is it, Taehyung?”

“You will not believe this!” the man, who’s name is Taehyung, exclaims, capturing the attention of the two other men sat in the room, “Guess who is downstairs!?”

All three deadpanned while Taehyung carried on, boxy smile still prominent on his face.

“Y/N! Y/F/N! Sin Syndicate’s girl. Yknow, the one who-“

“We get it Tae, no need to continue” the one in charge says sternly.

“Wait, what is she doing here though?” one of the guys sitting on the couch questions.

“Nobody knows Jin. She’s at the bar as we speak! Jimin was the first to spot her actually. Can you believe this!?” Taehyung is acting like he wants to jump up and down at this point.

After being asked who is serving you, and Tae answering with the name ‘Guk’, that starts a conversation with the two men on the couch.

“I bet he’s having a field day with her! I’d say he’s been determined to get her the most, from like day one!”

“Yeah Jin, but is he smart enough to fucking spike her drink? Because that’s what we need to do! And well, he’s a fucking dumbass when he wants to be!”

The one sat at the desk seemingly agrees with this, and turns to Taehyung, “Whatever you do Tae, don’t let her leave”

next chapter update: Wednesday 22nd January 2020 8pm gmt

tagging: @toddsgirl27​ @honeydewseoks​ @whimsicalwoodlands​ @dearlydreadful​ @wendyiiwl​ @asifetch7​ @barbyisafangirl​ @miraculyfe​ @smollmonajinsa

let me know if you want to be tagged in future chapters!

Thank you so much for reading!

all rights reserved © smoljamswrites | 12/01/2020 | reposting my work or modifying of any kind is strictly not allowed. Translations are also not allowed.

[ohblackdiamond]

liner notes/unused joke summaries for kiss fics (part iv)

Despite what my general dislike of the shift key and my tendency to mock all that I love might imply, I actually overthink everything I write to a great extent. I make no claims to these explanations being in any way enjoyable, but if you wanted to know what I was thinking while writing KISS fic… now you do. Part one can be found here. Part two is here. Part three is here. 

little t&a --If Paul had boobs, they would be big and Gene would want to grab them.

>>Title from a Rolling Stones song of the same name; most of the chapter titles are from another Stones song, “The Spider and the Fly.” I started it during quarantine as a means to occupy myself and destress, and didn’t initially plan on posting it at all. Once I’d written five chapters without having posted it or mentioned it to anyone, I figured, well, I guess this might as well go somewhere, so I put it up. I had the hope that it’d give me something to strive for during the stress of lockdown, and I’d assumed that I wouldn’t ever have that much time to devote to a story again.

There were a couple of things that really inspired me. I’ve always enjoyed sexswaps as a bit of a guilty pleasure, but wanted to do a different take on them-- there’s this tendency for sexswaps to either be wacky hijinks or an excuse to write particularly brutal noncon. There’s also a tendency for the sexswapped character to almost automatically start adopting stereotypically feminine traits he didn’t have prior, with no real reason for it. I wanted to try and avoid all that as much as possible.

... There’s also another tendency for the sexswapped character never getting back to normal, and I wanted to avoid that, too. I mean, c’mon, KISS is supposed to start the Love Gun tour a month after the fic. Paul can’t exactly pull the trigger of a love taco. (Maybe gently brush it a bit...)

I had Paul already cursed for five days at the start of the fic because I thought it would make things easier and allow the plot to advance more quickly. I also felt like it would give him more autonomy-- prior to Gene showing up, he has tried (albeit in small ways) to get a handle on what’s happened to him, and while he’s hermited it up, he hasn’t given up. Autonomy in general was pretty important for me re: Paul. (Incidentally, probably one of my favorite things about this fic is that Paul’s made that poor twelve-year-old kid on his bike buy him sanitary napkins.)

I wanted to explore a couple of other things, too, mostly rock and roll’s (and KISS’ in particular) pretty heinous treatment of women. Gene and Paul argue in the eighties that groupies know the score from the beginning, and even postulates that those relationships are more “honest” than just taking a girl out to dinner. They’re not alone in this (and, of course, as married men, these days they try not to discuss those times at all); almost every band/artist from around that time period will give you the same answer. “The girls know what they’re doing.” I think many of them did know. I also think many of them came into those hotel rooms expecting a lot more than they ever received, and I think plenty of girls ended up at the very least disappointed by their encounters, if not humiliated or worse.

I don’t know if this was successful, but I also wanted to at least try to poke a few holes in celebrity/idol worship as well. Carol’s scathing comments to Paul-- “they [fans] think there’s something you’ve got that they can get at, but there’s not” pretty heavily exemplify behavior I’ve seen at conventions, fan meet-ups, etc. At the end of the day, well, there’s no point in putting them on much of a pedestal. I dunno. I’ve seen some weird crap in the name of fan worship, in and outside of RPS. Keith Richards talks about it in his book-- girls urinating on themselves out of sheer nerves/excitement just at seeing the band, etc., which, while disturbing, had to have given them a sense of being something beyond ordinary (and act accordingly, of course).

I don’t know. I like them a lot, but I can’t hero-worship these guys; they don’t live in the real world. They’re not, ultimately, relatable or accessible despite the billions of photos, the twitter posts, the meet and greets-- any more than they were 40-odd years ago. I think there can be a real danger in thinking they are. I wanted to show that, too, but again, I don’t know if it came across properly.

One of the aspects I really struggled with was getting a good handle on Paul’s innately slippery sense of identity without it overtaking the story entirely. Gene’s very stable identity was a good foil, and it helped that most of “t&a” is from his point of view, rather than Paul’s.

Another place I faltered with was Paul’s outing alone at CBGB. The first draft had the guy in the club slip quaaludes into his drink, but I really didn’t like that at all and felt it took too much control away from Paul/punished him for going out on his own. I thought it’d be more interesting if Paul deliberately took what he knew was a dangerous combination (alcohol + quaaludes) in the hopes that would make him feel better about sleeping with someone he didn’t care about.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, having him do that (and the way the scene with the guy at the club ends) also meant that I couldn’t have him hop right into bed with Gene that night, either, so that accounts for some of the delaying. I was also really wanting to make sure in general that when Gene and Paul finally did go all the way, there wasn’t any feeling of being coerced or pressured. Not that Gene would do either of those things, but I didn’t want him or Paul to be doing it out of any feeling of obligation or hurry; I wanted it to be as natural as possible, under the circumstances. And I wanted, again, Paul’s dubious sense of self and Gene’s ambiguous feelings about Paul(’s boobs) to come into play-- yes, Paul, now you, too, can take Gene on the amazing technicolor dreamdate you’ve been fantasizing about for the last seven years! Or, you know, not. Overall, there are some pacing issues and the story slows down considerably after Gene takes Paul home from CBGB, but I like to hope that most of the scenes add something.

There were a couple of secondary plotlines that got scrapped because I couldn’t get them to fit well enough with the narrative. One of them was Paul’s very troubled relationship with his sister, Julia. There’s a fair amount of references to her scattered throughout, and Paul brings her up on several occasions, generally without much provocation, and generally at mildly odd moments (at Central Park and immediately after getting drawn by Gene being the standouts). There was an initial draft of the chapter in which Ace calls Paul, where Julia’s the one calling Paul instead (after having gotten his number from their parents). I wanted to at least get the start of a reconciliation going between them. Ultimately I scrapped it because I couldn’t get it to flow with the main plot and never felt like I’d ever explored it thoroughly enough for it to be worth a detour.

The comparison between Paul and Carol is pretty blatantly obvious, even in the narrative. Paul and Gene both recognize it (Gene, initially, when he notes that Carol doesn’t seem to belong at 54 any more than Paul does), and it makes them highly uncomfortable. (Mary-Anne, Carol’s friend, also notices it-- “she [Paul] reminds me of Carol. Just pitiful.”) They’re both very shy, insecure people that have thrust themselves into a world they’re not naturally suited for (show business) in order to achieve their own ends. They’ve both put great stock in a single person who helped them (inadvertently or not) during a dark time, and are driven by those feelings, despite knowing that person is out of reach.

Physically, they’re intentionally mostly opposite (Carol’s short, with a slight build, lighter hair, blue eyes, vs. Paul being, well, Paul-- tall, fuller build, black hair, brown eyes). But narratively speaking, neither of them are described as beautiful; “cute” and “kind of pretty,” sure, but nothing past that (except when Gene says it towards the end). That was important, too, for a couple of reasons. One, I wanted to further the comparison between them; two, I wanted to at least try and dispel the idea that all groupies were glamorous; many of them were rather ordinary-looking.

Paul not being “playboy material as a girl” was very deliberate. I feel like a lot of sexswaps tend to make the guy in question end up a ridiculously hot babe, which didn’t quite jive with what I was going for (not that I wanted Paul to end up awful-looking, but...). ... He’s probably hotter than he thinks he is though; at least, Gene didn’t mind at all, and Pete thought he was pretty. I wanted him to be recognizable if one knew where to look (face, body language). I didn’t want him to end up a tiny, frail-looking waif-- given what he looks like as a dude, that didn’t make sense to me. So this meant the less perfect attributes had to stay and carry over to a female body. He ended up with big boobs because... well, honestly because if he wasn’t going to end up with a great figure overall, he might as well have great boobs. And I mean, really, his chest’s already pretty all right as-is.

I didn’t want there to be a love triangle, but I did want it obvious, at least in an offhand way, that Peter and Paul had had sex (Ace mentions it in the car with Peter, with his “how long did it take you”). I wanted to incorporate Ace and Peter to as great an extent as possible in general.

Marbas is an actual demon from The Lesser Key of Solomon, although other than the few sentences Paul reads off from that grimoire, there’s not much more information on him to be found.