#and now I have favorite chapters of space marines?

[2manyburiedtales]

Can somebody please tell me WHAT DID THEY PUT IN THAT OVERSIZED CHICKEN?! Why is he so likeable? I mean, I’ve never been the one for vampires, I borderline hate them. But now? Because of him??? IM NOT IMMUNE TO THS IMPERIAL PROPAGANDA

[agent-cupcake]

Flashbang

Chapter 3 - My Ugly

Spotify Playlist / All Chapters / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 /Chapter 7/ Chapter 8 / Chapter 9 pt.1 / Chapter 9 pt.2 / Chapter 10 / Chapter 11 / Chapter 12

Pairing: One Piece Live Action Buggy x f!Reader

Synopsis: You have a lot of uncomfortable, complicated feelings about yourself, your life, and Captain Buggy. Buggy has a lot of comfortable, uncomplicated feelings about using you for cheap entertainment.

Word Count: 7.8k

Notes: My dearest says that this is her favorite chapter so far and I'm inclined to agree. It's almost 8k of sexual harassment in the workplace peppered with reader being Not Okay and Buggy riding that line of silly goober and sexy bully. Hope you like it as much as we do~

“I don't care if it hurts meI want to be worthyThe world to be thirsty for meI will grind night and dayLike a cosmetic slaveTill you're 6 feet down bad for me”

x

Dad liked to go out at night. More often than not, the big grandfather clock’s little hand hovered in the uneasy in-between of eleven and one before he got back. Drinking, usually, although you knew that wasn’t all he did when he was gone. He said it was business. Now that you were older, you understood that the two of you lived beyond the means of a retired Marine, but you never cared to know how. Dad wouldn’t have told you anyway. It wasn’t your place to know. Your place was curled up on the hearth as the fire burned down to cinders, dutifully waiting for him to return in case he needed something from you.

This wasn’t at all the same. This was a job. A duty rather than an obligation. The sense of hot determination from earlier had yet to fade. You were going to make yourself irreplaceable. You were going to be the best. You would not fail Captain Buggy or Cabaji—you would prove everybody wrong. You had to. There was nothing else. 

To that end, Captain Buggy’s bed was made, the room was tidy, you knew what to use when removing his makeup, you knew where everything was kept. That didn’t stop nerves from buzzing in your stomach like angry bees, or keep your skin from crawling at the idea of being alone with Buggy after everything Crina and Cabaji had said. You tried, as surreptitiously as possible, to find Crina’s missing dress, but to no avail. It left you thinking that maybe you were just confused. Even the parts of last night that you could remember were hazy, and then there were the many, many things you didn’t dare to remember. So how could anyone—let alone people who weren’t even there—assume something inappropriate happened? If anything, you were the one in the wrong for imposing on the captain like you had.

Another reason that you had to prove your worth. You repeated that over and over to keep yourself from spacing out, to remain focused so that you would be ready when Captain Buggy came back. It made the span of minutes feel like days, but paid off because you were on your feet before he even had the door all the way open.  

“Good evening, Captain Buggy,” you said respectfully.

He kicked the door shut, not acknowledging you. Too busy mumbling under his breath as he stomped through the antechamber. You followed quickly, a sick pit forming in your stomach. It seemed the poor mood from earlier had not only returned, but gotten worse.

“-buncha talentless idiots. Good for nothing, rotten lot of-” Buggy paused, shrugging his coat partially down his shoulders. He stayed like that for a moment before snapping. “Well?” 

“Well?” you echoed nervously. You hadn’t prepared for this. 

“Don’t just stand there looking stupid, take my coat.”

“Right, of course. Sorry, sir,” you told him, rushing over to take his coat as he roughly shrugged it off. 

“I hope you’re not as useless as everyone else on this ship,” he said. “I can’t deal with another failure.” 

“I’m sorry, Captain Buggy,” you said, hanging up his coat while he removed his gloves. 

When you turned, he threw them at you without looking. You tried to catch them, but missed. Only having one eye made it difficult to judge where things actually were, and your fist closed around empty air while his gloves thumped to the floor. Buggy seemed too lost in his own world to call you on it as you stooped down to pick them up.

“I’m a clown, not a goddamn miracle worker,” Buggy continued, pulling off his hat and headscarf. Finally free, his hair flopped down, creased from being up all day. To your surprise, the bits of what looked like ribbon were entwined with his hair, only adding to what looked like an absolute nightmare to try and sort out. Absently, Buggy smoothed and tied it back. “Nobody is prepared. Rehearsals start tomorrow and, frankly, I’m not optimistic.” 

Scowling, he tipped into his chair, legs outstretched, elbows on the rests, and his chin resting on his fist. 

“I could put out a casting call next time we make it to port, replace some of the dead weight,” he muttered. 

Since he didn’t sound like he was talking to you, you remained silent as you knelt to remove his boots. What you realized right then, what you hadn’t stopped to consider, was that his boots weren’t the kind with laces, they needed to be pulled off. You frowned, grabbing his foot and getting a solid grip around the heel.

“-check their egos,” he continued, paying you no mind as you tried to wrestle his boot off. Unfortunately, Buggy didn’t seem at all inclined to point his toe and make it easier for you. “I really can’t stand divas.” 

You adjusted your grip to get better leverage, bracing the sole against your chest and pulling at the ankle. 

“Every idiot with a deformity and shitty act thinks they’ve got what it takes to be a star. They’re lucky to have the chance to be in my show.” 

Taking a big breath, you pulled hard. His boot finally came off, but the amount of force you had to use nearly knocked you over. Luckily, you managed to avoid that particular embarrassment. Setting it aside, you grabbed his other boot, mentally and physically bracing yourself to wrestle it off. 

“They have no idea of how much blood, sweat, and natural talent goes into perfection,” Buggy continued, continuing to ramble to himself. This time, you avoided falling, but only narrowly. It was good that he was so distracted. “Without me, they’d be nothing. They’ll be nothing anyway, if they keep this up.” 

Letting out a sigh of relief, you stood up to set his boots aside. The next part was the one you had been dreading ever since Cabaji told you about it—removing the captain’s makeup. Oil remover first, then soap and water. Mind the lashes, don’t get anything in his eyes. Mentally, you added Crina’s reminder about not drawing any attention to his nose. 

Your problem with the idea of it at first was that standing so close to Buggy seemed intimate, but now you worried about his reaction. Buggy was still muttering to himself as you washed your hands and filled a bowl with water, angrily staring at the wall. So far, his ire hadn’t been directed at you, but that could change. Very easily, that could change, and you knew what happened after that. 

If you worked quickly and didn’t mess up, then everything would be fine. Telling yourself that over and over, you took everything to his desk. That drew Buggy’s attention just like you feared, but his muttering had stopped.

“I still don’t know what I’m going to do with you,” he said.

You froze. “Captain?” 

“It’d be nice if you had some sort of skill. Anything, really… You sure you’re not holding out on me?”

You set down the bowl and bottles before holding out your empty hands with your fingers splayed, showing him the fronts and backs. “I’m not holding anything, sir.”  

“No kidding,” Buggy said. To your relief, he finally cracked a smile, pressing his hand against yours. “How could you hold anything with those tiny little doll hands?” 

You drew back with a frown, your shoulders curling. He sounded like he was teasing, but it reminded you of what Crina said about stunted development. Pushing that thought from your head, you picked up the cloth, but he stopped you. 

“Ah, ah, ah. That shit’s messy. Clothes first.”  

“Clothes?” you asked.

“Yes, clothes. My clothes,” Buggy said slowly, like you were stupid. Your only response was to look at him uncertainly. “Take them off.” 

“Right, of course,” you said with a little shake of your head, stepping in closer. Standing between his legs. He was so indifferent to personal space, yours or otherwise, so it wasn’t as if it was a big deal. It wasn’t. It was fine. Completely fine. It wasn’t as if there was anything strange about this. There were many nights when your dad was too drunk to take off his clothes and you had to help, this was the same thing.

Except that it wasn’t. 

With Buggy sitting, you were a tiny bit taller, finally seeing eye to eye. His were so pretty. Disarmingly so, their color divided between the ring of blue encasing the green haloing his pupil. You tried to avoid them, tugging your bandana down a little more to cover the scar before undoing the loose knot of his cravat. Last night, before the alcohol really even set in, you remembered wishing to see more of his neck. Now you were almost afraid of it, overly aware of your awkward, fumbling fingers as you tugged the fabric loose. His neck was pale and smooth, nothing like the wrinkled, leathery tan your father had after years as a Marine. You couldn’t help but let your gaze slip over the pronounced shape of his Adam’s apple, following the strong lines of tendon that descended into his shoulders, down the valley between his collar bones to the trail of hair that disappeared into the deep V of his vest.

“This isn’t a peep show,” Buggy said. 

“No, I…” You cleared your throat. “I’m sorry, sir.” With careful hands, you folded the scarf and set it aside. He wasn’t wearing an undershirt, so the vest was all that was left. Buggy leaned back so you could undo the front, saying nothing. Part of you wished he would, just to break the tension. It wasn’t weird. You had seen shirtless men before. Cabaji hadn’t been wearing a shirt and that was fine. You were a pirate now, you had to get used to seeing skin. 

It was different though, with him. Of course it was, because you made it different. Wiry as he was, Buggy wasn’t boyish in the way you almost hoped for. The word your brain supplied was adult, not because of the difference in age or size, but because he physically existed in a way you didn’t. There was no curious dip where his neck met his shoulder, and hair trailed all the way down his torso. He was solid. A man. Standing in front of him instilled a very odd sense of vertigo within you, like drowning. A wave of nausea rolled from your stomach all the way to your head, the sickness of shame and something else, something worse. 

“I’m sorry,” you said again, your face burning as you turned to put his vest aside.  

“I was just kidding. It’s not a crime to admire a work of art,” Buggy told you with a lopsided grin. “You’ve only got one eye anyway, it barely counts.” 

“I wasn’t… I don’t mean to,” you said, wishing to be anywhere else. You tried to distract yourself by dousing the cloth in oil, but you could still feel his eyes on you, watching your awkward movements. 

“Jeez, relax a little,” Buggy said, grabbing your shoulders to give you a shake. “I know it’s a huge honor to serve me and you’re scared you’ll mess it up, but I’m not gonna bite your head off or anything.”

“I know,” you said, unable to look him in the eye and knowing better than to look at his nose but also unable to look down at his body. The middle ground was to look behind him but that was just as awkward as anything else. 

“Just be careful, I wouldn’t wanna end up with an eye like yours,” Buggy said, tapping the bottom of your chin playfully before closing his eyes. Being spared of his gaze helped, at least. 

“Yes, sir.” 

Taking in a deep breath to steady yourself, you held his head in place with one hand and began to clean his face, starting at the top and working down. You could only imagine how long it took to draw on the crossbones, but the oil made quick work of them. And then the blue, cleaning up the sparkles. You took extra care to be gentle around his eyes, but he didn’t react at all, sitting still as you peeled off the lashes with the aid of more oil. 

Without anything else to distract you, your thoughts of last night only spiraled. Now that you were so close to him again, you had vague flashes of sitting on his lap, although you weren’t sure if that was real or not. Hopefully it wasn’t. The embarrassment would eat you alive. And then there was your conversation with Crina. In your head, you had tried very hard to imagine what he might do or say, how he might react if you asked what happened. It was just in case. You needed to know that Crina was wrong, that the entire crew was wrong. You knew, and Buggy knew, that he would have no interest in you. So you would say what you needed to say, confirm that you were right, and move on.

“Captain Buggy?” you asked, pausing to adjust the rag.

“What?” 

“About last night… I had too much to drink, and I know I was being annoying and I know that we… um… and that I…”

“Does any of this have a point?”

“Oh! I’m sorry. Nevermind,” you told him, shaking your head and refocusing on finishing your task.

He opened one eye to give you a flat look. “No, no, you can’t just leave me hanging.”

You sighed, carefully working on the corner of his red smile. You remembered, distantly, having drunk thoughts about his stubble, and you were right about it being rough. “It’s just that I can’t remember everything that happened last night,” you said, “but I remember enough to know I embarrassed myself. I’m really, really sorry if I put you in an uncomfortable position.”

“What are you talking about?” Buggy asked, his voice distorted from the way he had to hold his mouth taut for you to wipe off the makeup.

“I want to apologize if I was too forward and you felt pressured or, um, uncomfortable. I’m really sorry.” 

“The only thing I felt pressured to do was carry you to bed. My bed, by the way. You’re welcome for that.”

“Thank you,” you responded quickly. “I’m really sorry, truly, but thank you.” 

“Sure thing, kiddo,” he said, opening his eyes as you cleaned up the last smears of paint from his jaw. “I couldn’t stand the thought of anybody else taking advantage of you.”

Your breath caught with nerves. He probably didn’t mean that in any way, but the phrasing made you blush. Blush more. 

“By the way, um,” you said, “do you know what happened to the dress I was wearing?” 

Buggy opened his eyes and stretched, yawning loudly. You didn’t want to, but you couldn’t keep your eyes from wandering down for a moment before you caught yourself. “When?” he asked. You busied yourself with the water and soap before he could catch you looking. 

“Last night, I was wearing a dress that Crina lent me.” 

“Really? I didn’t notice.” 

“That’s fine! I was just wondering if you know where it is?” 

“Why would I?” 

You looked up, but Buggy looked as innocent and bored as his tone would indicate. It was a stupid concern in the first place, there was no way he would have done anything. Shaking your head of the annoying thoughts, you raised the cloth to wipe off the oil and any remaining traces of makeup. He watched you this time, only closing his eyes when you were cleaning them. Very studiously, you avoided his nose—avoiding even looking at it. What you were left with was a very regular, if handsome, man. Pink lips, a cleft chin, beautiful eyes. Maybe that was part of why the nose upset him so much. Before the accident, you liked to think that you had been pretty enough, losing that made your injury that much more hideous. 

“Come on,” Buggy asked, still staring at you as you put the rag back into the bowl, “aren’t you going to ask me?” 

“Ask you what?” 

“You wanna know if we fucked,” he said, dragging out the words in a slow and mocking way. You gasped at his childish use of vulgarity, your stomach twisting up. Buggy grinned. “Don’t look so scandalized, I know you were thinking it. Well, we didn’t. Trust me, you’d remember that. You did get a little handsy, but I didn’t mind it. I don’t feel weird about it or anything. I managed to fend off your advances until you passed out.” 

You shook your head, staring at his shoulder. “I am so sorry, Captain Buggy.” 

“Aw, are you embarrassed?” he asked, putting his hands on your hips to sway you back and forth. The casual touch made you jump, more aware than ever of his state of undress. But it wasn’t weird. People touched all the time. It wasn’t weird. “I promise I won’t tell anybody how badly my little one-eyed monster wanted my one-eyed monster.”

It took a second for you to realize that he was saying what you thought he was saying, and that was your limit. You stumbled away from him with a choked squeak, covering your face with your hands. They were still wet, but you didn’t care, only wanting to hide from him as he laughed at the joke.

“You are just a treasure trove of new and exciting sounds, aren’t you?” 

You slowly lowered your hands, still shaking your head. “I… I didn’t mean…” 

“Hey, hey, do you think if I squeezed you real tight and let go it’d sound like a squeaky toy?”

“Um… I’m… I don’t…”

“God, don’t look so scared, I wasn’t gonna try it,” Buggy said, leaning back. “Yet. You’re way too squirmy and I’m tired.” He yawned again to make the point, causing you to yawn in turn. “You too, huh? I’m surprised, you only slept in for half the day.” 

“I know,” you said, averting your eye. “I’m, uh, I’m sorry, sir.” You were glad to have the excuse of cleaning up to avoid his eyes. 

“From now on,” Buggy told you seriously, “you’re an early riser. I could need you at any time, so you better stay on your toes. That’s the only way you’ll ever be able to reach anything.” 

You blinked, realizing too late that he was poking fun at you. At least it was about your height this time. Buggy’s grin fell, disappointed with your lack of reaction.

“We’ll have to work on that,” he said. “Now make like a tree and… Well, more of a stick. Maybe a stump… It doesn’t matter. Get out of here and come back bright and early tomorrow. Don’t forget.” 

“I won’t,” you said, relieved that he wasn’t going to ask anything more of you after making that comment. “Goodnight, Captain Buggy.” 

“Sweet dreams, babydoll.” 

Despite how tired you had been all day, you couldn’t fall asleep. Since you often only got a few hours to rest, it wasn’t usually that difficult. It was a talent, mom used to boast about how good of a baby you had been, sleeping through the night while other infants screamed and wailed to be fed. A small and quiet child, so easy to mind. 

But you didn’t want to think about that.

You shifted, curling up beneath the uncomfortably thin blanket you had been given. The beds for the crew were dormitory style, set into the walls. You got the top bunk, sleeping above a woman named Pippa. She had heavy eye makeup and clipped words. Her big steamer trunk laid by your feet, she claimed you were small enough to fit with it on your bed. Everybody slept in the same area, men and women. Crina told you to get a knife to sleep with, although you had forgotten to heed that warning. Maybe it wouldn’t matter, you wouldn’t know how to use one. You never had before. 

Except for once. 

But you didn’t want to think about that either. 

Rolling onto your back, you stared at the ceiling. The ship creaked and people snored and coughed and snorted. Footsteps above and waves below, the ocean was a place of endless motion and noise. A constant reminder that you were on a ship with your crew. Which was what you wanted, wasn’t it? Not only that, but you had been given a respectable job. You should have felt a sense of accomplishment. This was far better than what you had hoped for when you left home.  

Maybe it just hadn’t set in yet. Maybe you would feel better after getting some rest. Maybe you just had to get used to being here. 

Maybe you had made a terrible mistake. Maybe you couldn’t handle this. Maybe you were exactly as weak as Crina and Cabaji accused you of being. Maybe it was only a matter of time before you disappointed Captain Buggy and he cast you out with nowhere to go. Or maybe it was that intangible monster that people called fate, the rusty ladder you had trapped yourself on. The only way down was to take each rung at a time, to obey the gravitational weight of inevitability. That’s what took you northside, that’s what made you beg to join Buggy’s crew. And now you were a murderer, was that inevitable too? 

There was something within you that screamed, that thrashed, that bled. Something with gnashing teeth and clawing fingers. The thing that existed in the hollow pit when you were half conscious, the one that took over when you were smothered. She didn’t understand why you acted the way you did, she was different. You made her skin crawl with disgust for letting a man touch you and hated you for what you had done, the betrayal you perpetuated with every mile put between you and the remains of your town. She was a familiar host, always there, always agonized and angry and bewildered by your behavior, holding onto your worst feelings. 

Once, you were in love with Randall. He was the neighbor boy, the son of a carpenter. He wanted to be a Marine. You wanted to leave Barley, actually leave, not just the short trips like dad sometimes allowed you to go on with him. But then the accident happened to your mom and Randall inherited his father’s business. He told you it was a matter of responsibility. You had yours, and he has his. And then he had a pretty girl from a nearby town, and you only had your dad. You hated him. Didn’t you? If you hated him, that would be better. You had to hate him.

Eventually, you rolled onto your side and, an eternity after that, fell asleep.

Days began early on a ship, a shift change rather than a good morning. Not that you would know what time it was, buried in the ship’s stomach like you were. The hour didn’t bother you as much as the cold did, it was the first thing you were aware of before your circumstances snapped into place. The facts came easier than they had the previous morning, your reality slightly more real. You sat up slowly, crusty eyed and with a headache, looking around to orient yourself.  

Privacy was a foreign concept to the pirates, they all went about their business without any concern for anyone else. To your surprise, the women were as casual as the men in regards to their modesty. Averting your eye, you awkwardly got dressed under the covers before climbing down, fixing your bandana over your eye and breathing deep to try and wake up. Pippa was still sleeping, sprawled across her small bunk with one toned leg sticking out. 

Although others were eating, you didn’t join them. Captain Buggy got his breakfast first. The cook made no comment, although you did get another look. Lots of people had given you looks. But nothing more. Cabaji said that having an official position among the crew would keep you safe. Keeping your head down and fighting the dizzy pain of your worsening headache, you hurried to get the food to Buggy’s chambers. After serving him, you would eat. Maybe Crina would give you something to help you feel better again. 

You knocked on his door and then waited, listening. On a ship, there was never silence, but there was a sort of hushed equivalent. You knocked again, a little louder, calling his name. And again. 

Deliberating for a moment, you decided that it was best to use the key Cabaji had given you. After knocking and calling out your intentions, you awkwardly balanced the tray to unlock the door and enter. The dining area antechamber was empty. You set the tray on the table before venturing further, peeking your head into Buggy’s bedroom. The captain laid in a sprawl of pale skin and blue hair, face down and fast asleep. 

Were you supposed to wake him up? 

“Captain Buggy?” you called softly. “I brought your breakfast.” He didn’t move, but you could see the steady rise and fall of his breathing. You walked a little closer. “Sir? Are you awake?” Nothing. Carefully, slowly, you approached him until you stood at the edge of the bed. “Captain?” you asked, daring to reach out and touch his shoulder. 

“Not now,” he said, slapping your hand away. “‘m very busy.” 

“Sir, you told me bright and early,” you said, frowning. With the amount of light peering in through the curtains, it was certainly bright outside.

“Bright and…” Buggy began, his words eaten by a yawn. He finally opened his eyes, rolling onto his side and blearily looking up at you with a smile. Illuminated only faintly and obviously sleepy, the expression was shockingly boyish. “Hey there, babydoll. I knew you’d come crawling back to me.”

“No, I um… I brought your breakfast, Captain Buggy,” you told him, flushing.

“Oh. Right, you’re…” He groaned, exhaling harshly.

“It’s going to get cold, sir,” you told him nervously.  

He blinked alert suddenly, sitting up.  “Why didn’t you say so? I can’t stand cold food.”

“I-”

Buggy snapped his fingers, gesturing to the side. “Get my robe,” he ordered. He barely opened his eyes as he snatched it out of your hand and stood up, stretching as he left his room. “If it’s inedible,” Buggy called, “I might have to eat you instead.” 

While it sounded like a joke, his tone was not at all humorous. You didn’t respond, hurrying so you could pull out his chair for him. Buggy dropped into it heavily, yawning without bothering to cover his mouth. There was something slightly funny about the way he was huddled beneath his robe with a sleepy scowl, his hair a disaster and face scruffy. He ran a hand over his cheek and chin, frowning.

“I could help you, if you wanted,” you offered. “You know,” you gestured to your face, “shaving.” 

Buggy blinked at you. Then he burst out laughing.

You shuffled self-consciously. “What’s funny?” 

Taking in your confused expression, his laughter came to an abrupt halt. “You’re not serious.”

“I am.” 

“You think,” Buggy said, “that I’m gonna let you,” he pointed at your left eye, “anywhere near my neck with a sharp object?” 

“I’m very good at it,” you insisted. “Dad… His hands are shaky, so I help him with it.”

“With one eye?” he asked incredulously. 

“Yes,” you said, a hint of defensiveness in your voice. 

“Yeah, I’m probably gonna have to say no to letting the one-eyed new girl anywhere near my neck with a razor,” Buggy said with another yawn, taking the lid off the tray. 

“Is there anything else, sir?” you asked, knowing better than to push it.

“Yeah, go get something to eat,” he told you. “You’re too scrawny.”

“Yes, sir.”

The rest of the day passed like the previous afternoon. Crina agreed to give you something for the headache in exchange for fetching supplies she needed, and Cabaji continued his lessons from the previous day. 

Eyes followed you wherever you went. Regardless of what Buggy said yesterday about you being a member of the crew, you knew that some of it was hostile. You couldn’t fight, you couldn’t perform the basic tasks of a sailor, you didn’t dine with the crew, and you had no talent to add to Buggy’s show. Many of the pirates were already working on their acts, it was just as likely to have to avoid a stray juggler as it was to weave around men minding the sails. There was no strict order like there had been on Marine vessels, but colors and noise and movement of every variety, and you weren’t involved in any of it. 

Ostracization came as a natural consequence of who, and what, you were. In some form or another, you knew it very well. What you couldn’t handle was the fear you felt sometimes when you passed other crew members, or when you were too far from the captain or Cabaji or Crina. Sometimes you caught sight of Ivo. Rather, sometimes he caught sight of you, and his expression would darken. Cabaji said you shouldn’t worry about it. You weren’t worth the risk.

The duties Captain Buggy expected you to fulfill, at least, were not difficult. It seemed like Cabaji’s warning was for nothing because the tasks given to you were standard. Delivering meals, cleaning, taking messages, and anything else he needed. By the end of your second night, you felt like you had a handle on it. 

Until the third day came and you learned a new lesson. Buggy’s moods were as fickle as the sea, calm as glass one moment and riled into a frothing swell the next. A man with a temper wasn’t very new to you, but Captain Buggy’s rules were entirely different. Where your dad misinterpreted your behavior to be in opposition to what he wanted from you, Buggy had a way of misunderstanding any behavior he didn’t like as direct insults to himself. 

The afternoon had been wearing on and on, and Buggy didn’t dismiss you from his office while he worked on the logs, leaving you to sit across from him, just waiting. You had a habit of losing track of yourself, your mind wandering whenever you were left to idle, to seek some distraction instead of having to contemplate your own life or thoughts. It wasn’t always that foggy nothingness. Actually, you were thinking about a story you’d nearly forgotten about. A girl whisked away on a grand adventure by a boy who descended from the clouds, one conjured from childish whimsy. So it wasn’t as if you were looking at anything in particular, you were barely aware of anything until Buggy snapped at you. 

“What are you looking at?” 

You blinked, shaking yourself free of the cloud filled daze. “Sorry, sir. I-” 

“You were staring at my nose, weren’t you,” he said, his voice hard.

“I wasn’t,” you told him, shaken by the cold anger of his random accusation. And you didn’t mean for your eye to flick down to his nose, it wasn’t like you had been staring at it in the first place, but Buggy clearly noticed, a muscle in his jaw ticking with barely contained rage. Your heart dropped, your tongue clumsy as you tried to desperately placate him. “I wasn’t looking at anything, I was thinking about a book I read-”

“Red?” he shouted, abruptly standing up with enough force to knock his chair over. “You were staring because you think my nose is red?”  

“No,” you said, shrinking back. “I wasn’t, I swear.” 

“I saw you doing it and, unlike you, I’ve got both eyes. Pretty soon, that’s gonna be two more than you’ve got.” 

“Captain Buggy, I wasn’t-” 

“Get out,” he demanded. “Right now.” 

“Yes, sir,” you said, bowing your head and scurrying out of his office, carefully sliding the door shut before escaping into the bright afternoon. 

There weren’t many places on a ship to hide, but you were small enough to fit in between the large crates of supplies in the cramped storage room beneath the forecastle. Luckily, you managed to avoid any attention until you were safely hidden. You didn’t cry, but it took you a while to stop shaking, composing apology after apology in your head. When you emerged from there, you returned to your chores, and you kept waiting for him to summon you again, to hit you and get it over with. That’s what the aggressive posture he’d taken always led to. A black eye, sore ribs. And you were prepared for it. 

But he didn’t. 

You weren’t summoned again until you were informed that Captain Buggy decided to dine in the officer’s mess and you, of course, would serve his meal. 

When you entered from below, the colorfully decorated room was abuzz with activity and laughter. You recognized Crina and Cabaji, of course. The former was in deep conversation with a red-faced officer you thought was called Newt. Mohji sat in the corner with Richie at his side. Buggy sat in the center of it all. The star. Having an audience didn’t do much to set you at ease, Buggy had no reservations about dealing out punishment in front of his crew. Nobody would dare to stop him. You kept your head down, taking Buggy his food and desperately wishing to be invisible. 

“Is there anything else you need, Captain Buggy?” you asked softly, staring at the floor rather than risk meeting anybody’s eye. 

“Yeah, sit down,” Buggy said, pointing to the chair next to him. You peeked up at him, confused, but he was far more concerned with his meal than you. After earlier, you expected red hot vitriol, but Buggy was relaxed, and you didn’t see any anger in his eyes. That was another lesson about the captain. His temper flared at the slightest provocation, but burned out fast. 

You sat down nervously, looking around again. The other officers were only just being served, but that didn’t stop Buggy from immediately digging in. 

“I heard that you don’t eat enough,” he casually said, talking with his mouth full. There was only one person who would have been able to tell him that. You looked over to where Crina sat, but she seemed to be reading Newt’s tea leaves. “What kind of message does it send about me if my little protégé is starved half to death? From now on, you’ll eat when I do.”

“I’m sorry, captain. You really don’t need to…” your words died out, withering away beneath his hard stare. “Thank you, Captain Buggy.” 

And so you were served with the rest of the officers, given a larger portion than you usually took. Buggy insisted you eat every bite. And then, after that, he insisted you stay in the officer's mess while they all drank and talked. Ale, mostly. A few bottles of the harder stuff were broken out, but nothing that interested you. The mere scent of it was sickening, let alone the taste. You wouldn’t want to drink anyway. A liquor-loosened tongue could very easily upset Buggy again. 

Cabaji began to idly juggle after a little while, which caught your interest far more than any talk about the winds or raids or treasure. He made it look so easy, tossing and catching the balls without any added tension in his posture or change of expression.

Very abruptly, he caught the balls, looking at you directly. “Do you need something?” 

“Oh, no,” you said, embarrassed at getting caught staring. “No, sir. It’s just so cool to watch, that’s all. I can stop.” 

“Maybe you should give that a try,” Buggy said, leaning in to catch your attention. “It could be your secret talent. Cabaji, hand those over.” 

“Captain Buggy, I don’t think I can juggle,” you said. “With my eye-”

“That wasn’t a problem when you were watching Cabaji,” Buggy said, handing you the balls Cabaji had just tossed over. “Nobody’s gonna laugh at you, I promise.”

You weighed them in hand, your stomach twisting because you knew that this wouldn’t end well. At the very least, the only people who were watching were Buggy and Cabaji. You let out a big breath and, with all of the grace you could muster, accidentally threw two balls in the air while dropping the third. You tried to catch one, but your hand closed around empty air to the side of the ball where you thought it would be, a common occurrence when you only had one eye. They all hit the floor with dull thumps, rolling away in different directions.  

Almost immediately, Buggy cracked up, leaning back in his chair with how hard he was laughing. Ducking your head, you got up to hunt down the dropped balls, your cheeks flushing red. 

“You’re supposed to catch them, genius,” Buggy said, breathless from laughing. “Here, hand ‘em over. I’ll show you.” 

He set down his bottle and you gratefully let him take the balls. Buggy straightened out, lining them up in his hands. He did far better than you, smiling at his own success, but slipped up when his eyes flicked away for a second. One of the balls escaped and hit the floor for the second time. 

Buggy scowled, tossing away the other two in exchange for his bottle of ale. 

“Clearly there’s something wrong with those ones. I think they got broken or something when she dropped them.”

“I am so sorry,” you said, meeting Cabaji’s dark eyes. 

“I have more,” he said, unconcerned. 

“How about cards?” Buggy asked you, quick to move on. “Do you know any card tricks? You gotta be hiding some sort of talent.” 

To nobody’s surprise, but Captain Buggy’s immense amusement, you were not.

That seemed to be the point because, rather than be upset about your consistent ineptitude, Buggy laughed at each failed trick just like he had with the juggling. At a certain point, you began to feel a bit less insecure because at least he was entertained by you. Not to say it wasn’t humiliating, but you could accept that as long as Captain Buggy was happy. You liked his laugh, mean or amused or raucous, you didn’t think you’d ever get tired of it.

When he finally called it a night and your decided lack of talent was exhausted, the full moon had reached its highest point and Buggy was more than a little drunk, needing you to steady him on the way back to his cabin. He was heavy and hot, singing a song you were pretty sure was entirely made up and you worried that if he collapsed, you would both go down, but you managed to get him all the way into his cabin and onto his chair. 

Buggy told you stories as you fixed his hair and got his clothes off, drunkenly meandering between his prowess in combat, awkward encounters with fans, and tricks he’d effortlessly pulled off on idiot nobodies. 

When you stood in front of him with a washcloth, Buggy blinked a few times, his eyes focusing on you with more clarity than you expected. “You and me, babydoll, we’re the same,” he said seriously, the words muddled by his drunken slurring. “Like, obviously you’re way more pathetic and less talented, but both of us were kept down by people who didn’t see our value. People who wanted to—to stifle our light, to keep us from ever shining the way we’re destined to.” 

“Do you believe in destiny, Captain Buggy?” you asked, beginning the process of washing his face. 

“Of course I do,” he said, his eyes closed. “I’m destined to find the One Piece, to become King of the Pirates, to be loved by everyone. You agree, right? That’s why you wanted to serve me.” 

“No, I wanted to serve you because I-” you cut yourself off, realizing that now probably wasn’t the time for you to start talking about your feelings. 

“Because you… What?” 

You sighed, kicking yourself for saying anything. “When I saw you and your crew northside, I remembered my dad mentioning you a while back. You were involved in a raid on a town he had been staying at,” you explained as you removed and set his false lashes aside. “He called you a freak. There are a lot of weird pirates, but only you were a freak. Buggy the Clown, the Fool, the Jester—I’d never seen or heard anything like that. And then I saw you and your crew and it was just… I had to. No matter how scary or difficult it would be, I didn’t see any other option. I know you’re going to do everything you say, but I ran away and all of that because I wanted to serve you, Captain Buggy.” You shrugged even though he couldn’t see, shaking your head with a nervous smile. “If that makes sense.”

By now, you had gotten to his cheeks, but his growing smile made you stop. 

“I knew it,” Buggy said with a huge, manic grin. 

“What?” you asked, dismayed.

“You’re in love with me,” he said. “I knew it the whole time. I mean, the signs were all there, I just figured you were too shy to say it. But this… sheesh, you’ve got it bad.” 

“No!” you exclaimed. “No, that’s not what I meant. You’re my captain, it’s not anything like… like…” 

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he told you, grabbing your shoulders, “it was bound to happen at some point. I’m willing to help you out, I’ve just been waiting for you to get desperate enough to ask.” He released you, sitting back. “Okay… Go ahead.” 

“Go?” you asked softly. 

He huffed, rolling his eyes. “Strip, idiot. Take off your clothes.” 

You stared at him in pure shock. “I can’t… I can’t do that.” 

“There’s no point in being shy now. I’ve already seen you in your undies.”

You shook your head fast. “Captain, it’s very late, and-and you’re drunk.” 

“That shouldn’t be a problem. I was drunk the other night and that didn’t stop me from coming my brains out thinking about how you’d look—”

“Please stop!” you interjected in a desperate whine. 

Your reaction made Buggy erupt into hoarse, drunken laughter. 

“You’re… you’re teasing me?” you asked. 

“Of course I am. You didn’t seriously think I wanted to fuck you tonight.” He slumped back into his chair, yawning widely. “Don’t get me wrong, I thought about it but, frankly, I’m exhausted.”

Your shoulders tightened, a pit forming in your stomach at how stupid you felt for assuming he would mean that. You were the one who insisted over and over again that you knew Captain Buggy didn’t want you in that way. To think that he would was nothing but undeserved ego. You couldn’t be surprised. You especially couldn’t be hurt. 

“You gonna finish or what?” Buggy asked, opening one eye. “I’m falling asleep over here.” 

“Sorry, captain,” you said, glad to throw yourself back into the task.  

Buggy didn’t talk very much after that. The liquor set in heavily, and he was half asleep by the time you were done. You helped him get up and into bed, and you very, very, very professionally ignored how hot his bare torso felt, even through your own clothes. You decided after a moment that you could not handle removing his pants, but you took his belt. And then it was a familiar ritual to get him to lay on his side, tucking a pillow behind his head to keep him like that.  

“Is there anything else, Captain Buggy?” you asked as you covered him with his blanket and put a cup of water on the table. 

“You do love me, don’t you?” he asked, his eyelashes fluttering so he could look at you with bloodshot, filmy eyes. Compared to earlier, he just sounded vulnerable, his voice fried and sleepy. 

“Of course I love you, Captain Buggy,” you said, unable to keep yourself from brushing his cheek with your thumb. He sighed, his eyes drooping shut. Part of you wanted to stay and watch over him, to make sure he didn’t throw up and choke, to force him to drink water, to ward off any alcohol induced nightmares. To stay by his side and just be. Be with him. 

It was a silly impulse. He didn’t need that from you, and you doubted he would accept it anyway. So you left, and you hoped he could sleep through the few hours of night that remained.

Despite how late it was, you didn’t feel very tired at all as you climbed into your bunk. You wrapped yourself in a cocoon of blankets—the only way you could stay warm—and stared up at the ceiling. Thinking. Just thinking. Every day was a barrage of new information and activity like you had never experienced, but today felt like more. Being yelled at, being made fun of, but also taken care of. You knew better than to read too far into anything Buggy did or said while he was so drunk, but that didn’t stop you from shivering with a brand new type of warmth and disgust when you thought about it. Pure, blazing, white-hot, and unambiguously terrible because you knew it was stupid. And wrong. And gross.

Captain Buggy teased you about sex things because it was easy, because you reacted so strongly to it. That was the only reason. You knew that. Really, if you thought about it, the way he treated you wasn’t all that different from your dad. At least in his gentler moments. That was kind of the role of a captain, wasn’t it? If you only thought about it like that, then you could condemn and ignore the weird things you felt. 

Huffing with irritation at yourself, you turned onto your side. You were being stupid, it had only been a couple of days. The love you felt was the love of a servant for their master, and it was the only kind of love that actually mattered in any measurable way, not any of the jittery anxious feelings in your gut, or the heartache you felt when you thought about your dad. Love through respect. Love through obedience. Love through service.

And to serve, you needed to sleep.

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Pains that Grow

Author's note: Su'cona's next chapter.

Past =-= Next

Warnings: descriptions of chronic illness and pain. Uh. Let me know if I need to add anything else.

Summary: Su'cona tends to his bonded when they are having a bad pain day.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams,

Tagged continued: @sleepyfan-blog, @whorety-k, @ms--lobotomy @bispecsual @thevoidscreams

You wake up and turn to look at your phone, which you have charging next to you as it rings, waking you up from sleep. You groan and grab your phone, squinting down at it. Reading the numbers on the clock which brightly tell you the time. You set your phone down and rub your face with a tired groan. 

It’s been a while since you pushed yourself and helped out at a Soup Kitchen. Part of you had known that doing so would have Consequences, but you liked helping out people who had less fortunate situations than yourself when you could. Besides, volunteer work was not quite-mandatory for your Work. 

If you did do Volunteer work, logged the hours, and sent in the hours, dates, times, as well as Proof of doing it, then you’d get extra paid time off. Which could be a godsend sometimes. Your job, which you are very grateful to have is remote work, with once or twice a month you come into the office to have In Person meetings that the Higher ups insisted had to be done in person. 

You didn’t mind it. Much. The in-person training days were fine, and you learned the things that you needed to, or the refresher courses. It also helped when new team members came on to have everyone meet face-to-face, rather than over a Video conference phone call. You shiver a little as you feel a burning feeling that has been spreading over your shoulders and down your back, and has been slowly intensifying since you’d finished doing the Soup Kitchen. 

There is a dull throbbing sensation that pulses angrily to the beat of your heart. During one of the times you had worked at a soup kitchen, you met Su’cona, a Salamander Space Marine. He’d seemed… lost and alone. Which, as far as what you knew about Marines (which wasn’t much, just what ‘everyone said’ about them) it was unusual for him to be alone. 

He’s also hungry, and happy to hand out soup and sandwiches to the very grateful folk who’d shown up for the food and drinks. You hadn’t ever thought about having a Space Marine in your life, sure, as a kid you’d been as excited as most kids about maybe getting a Space Marine, but as you’d gotten older and your life had gotten much fuller and emptier in some ways, you didn’t have room in your life for a pet, or a romance partner, much less a space marine, but one had shown up in your life. 

Large, Green, warm, and very affectionate and friendly. You had to move, since Su’cona had decided you belonged to him now (some people would say that the Space Marine’s belonged to them) for some reason, you think that it’s likely more complicated than that. 

But, having subsidized Space Marine housing that included housing for you because of Space Marine Stuff isn’t something that you were going to complain about. Grateful that your job was mostly remote, and that it was still within reasonable driving distance to get to and from the office in a car. Su’cona was already quietly puttering about, making both of you breakfast. You slowly get up, and carefully stretch as you try not to whimper in pain. You have a high pain tolerance, usually, because of your condition, but it was feeling particularly bad this morning.

Su’cona comes over to where you are, out of armor and tilting his head down, a concerned expression on his face as he trills down at you in Space Marine Language ???. You try to smile up at the big guy.

“Thanks for worrying buddy,” You say rubbing your eyes, “It’s just a bad morning.”

He tilts his head a different way, his brows furrowing, as he lifts a tray of food that had a warm, tasty looking and smelling meal. It’s one of your favorites, but your stomach rumbles uneasily and the thought of food makes you want to gag. 

“Thanks for making breakfast,” You say as you get up, and carefully take the tray from him. “I’m going to do it in a bit, I need to get ready for the day.”

He gives you those devastating fire-bright puppy eyes that melt your heart. Every. Single. Time. Your shoulders slump a little, “Buddy, I need to get ready for work. I get a half day off since I did the Soup Kitchen, but there is an important deadline that the Boss is on my ass about.”

Su’cona rumbles down at his bonded human. They are having a Bad Day, he’d learned quickly that his human had a… condition? Of some kind where they would get pain that would flare up. Their skin would become discolored and warm to the touch. 

It had alarmed him when he’d seen the mottled purplish and irregular looking skin. It had Worried him, afraid that they were ill. As they had been so lethargic and unlike their normal self. He’d gotten one of his Apothecary Brothers to make a house call to see what the issue was.

He’ll make sure to get them some of their medication to help ease the pain, swelling, inflammation. If it’s a particularly bad day, their skin could be so sensitive that the slightest touches of wind or cloth could feel like torture to his poor human.

He wondered if this was a curse that beset his poor human from Chaos. But his Librarian brothers had assured him that it was no curse, and his Apothecary brother’s had explained that it was just how their body was made. Which had distressed him greatly, as he’d hoped he, or his brothers or cousins might be able to help ease their distress and pain.

They also could forget things easily, or become frustrated, with themself, or their world around them. So he’d learned how to help them, make sure to give reminders and help them when their brain and body worked against them. They have such a strong soul and spirit. He admires and cherishes his Bonded human dearly. 

He’s glad that they were able to have a full night’s sleep, as that could be an issue, with the pain their body had, sleeping was in short supply a lot of time. Su’cona had learned about the symptoms and signs of his human’s conditions, and the ways that he could help them… without being overbearing. 

Which had… taken time to learn what they would allow him to help them with and what they wouldn’t allow him to help them with. He knew that some of the Death Guard Apothecaries were willing to make medications that were not available for humanity in this age, for a price, and he’d heard of Apothecary Hura- a Death Guard Veteran and Apothecary who could be… reasonable, for a certain measure of the word with Renegade and Loyalists. Of course, all services come with a price attached to it. He shook his head, banishing thoughts that could go down a bad, dark, ugly road if he wasn’t careful. He’s not met this Hura, only heard of him from his brothers and cousins.

[kit-williams]

Barn Anon. Just this little one because I’m hungry and I smell food. Should I also hold off on sending any more for now?

Anytime you cook bacon in particular, it instantly becomes food thievery O’clock for Gabriel. Other food tend to take longer to rouse the deceptively adorable food thief. You had tried using a squirt bottle to deter him but unsurprisingly getting his shirt drenched has no effect on the massive Blood Angel.

Using pepper spray is much more effective according to some of the other Blood Angels you’ve spoken to. But can you really bring yourself to pepper spray your very oversized golden retriever of a Space Marine? You’re currently using whatever you have on hand to simply smack his hands away. Of course you know that he’s more than capable of dodging every smack. You get the feeling that every hit you land is more like an older sibling throwing a game to let their younger sibling win.

Well, nothing to be helped there. You look at your freshly made omelet and look over at Gabriel’s own omelet that’s buried under a layer of bacon.

“It must be nice taking all the bacon huh Gaby?”

Gabriel could survive off the nutrient paste that they could make easily back at base and the donated blood too... but somehow food that his bonded made tasted so much better! He cared little for food in all honesty it was just calories and nutrients only when it called to rub shoulders with elite would he allow himself to taste but it wasn't needed.

Food here popped and tasted. His favorite was beef... happy cow blood also was another thing that the chapter would use to help stave off the red thirst was animal blood but they were picky about it. Gabriel liked happy cows... distressed cows he could taste in the meat and the blood.

Gabriel looked at you as your arms were folded... and he gave back half of the bacon. It felt odd with their not being an overabundance of food it caused the chapters having to rely on making food synthesizers and paste makers or whatever else the techmarines and forge masters knew how to make. Self reliance was not something that they were strangers of.

He smiled as you smiled back and cooed your own thanks to him before digging into your breakfast. He did his small prayer to the Emperor and to Sanguinius thanking them for another day of life and well a small addition to him having his bonded.

Tag list sorry i forgot again: @egrets-not-regrets @liar-anubiass-blog @barn-anon @bleedingichorhearts

[wutheringmights]

Can we get the latest directors commentary pls?

Of course you can!

All things considered, this chapter actually came together really quickly. I haven't had a free weekend in a while, so that the chapter got done in a little over a month is really cool and sexy of me

My original plan was to have the bit about the war ending and the engineer leaving in secret at the end of the last chapter, and for this chapter to be the scene about Kat plus its consequences. The entire year would have passed between chapters with the reader getting no glimpses into what happened

Obviously, things got screwed up and I had to think of a way to make the war ending work with the Kat scene. I ended up with the idea of showing the passage of time with Link constantly reflecting back on how he failed to see the engineer. And I think it worked really well! For once my bad pacing was a blessing in disguise.

A part of me feels bad that I didn't do more with the friends of the Heroes Spirit, though I already struggle at times to give Midna things to do. I don't think I could have handled more of Ravio or Tetra.

There was going to be way more of Marin, including a bit about how she fades in and out of existence since she's only a dream. The engineer was always going to be the first person who knew when she was back, as he could always sense her presence.

This chapter also has one of my knew favorite lines (which I will highlight because I want to draw attention to it): "He hadn’t been a child for a long time now. But he had been in that comfortable space where he wasn’t a kid but not yet an adult. He always had the sense that if he turned around, he could walk back into a small shape his mother could hold in her arms."

Fort Raven was named after Sir Raven, from the Oracle of Time manga

Where do I start with the Kat stuff?

First off, I almost named this part of the chapter after the pudding bun. I really wanted to highlight the idea that what breaks through Link's disassociation is one person being selflessly nice to him. Like showing someone humanity begets more humanity

Also, the auburn woman who pointed out which direction Kat went in is the same auburn woman who danced with Link and spread rumors about the engineer in chapter 16. This is a detail only I care about.

Okay, so random trivia aside, let's actually talk about Kat

I have mentioned many times before that Kat is based off of Kattrin from Mother Courage and Her Children. Kattrin is a girl who became non-verbal after she was sexually assaulted by a soldier when she was a kid. You can obviously see how that relates to my Kat.

A long time ago, I mentioned that one of the deleted subplots in CTB was about Link dealing with the Waltons wanting to connect with him now that he was the hero. A character who was deleted from that plotline was a slightly older cousin who was also in the army, and was a total asshole of a man.

I bring the cousin up because the cousin's storyline was going to end with Kat-- that's right, he was supposed to play the role that the major with the slicked back hair played in this chapter.

Obviously, this would mean that this bit about Kat being continuously harassed would have gotten a lot more attention and gone on way longer before climaxing with cousin assaulting Kat.

The cousin got deleted from the story when I got rid of the subplot with the Waltons. I told myself that having a random character attack Kat would still work, but it still feels a little sudden to me.

I really wanted to keep this scene not only for the ways it forces Link to respond, but also to show how shitty soldiers are to civilians, especially men in power

And yeah, I wanted Link trying and failing to save someone to be what triggers his wake-up call. Link definitively fucked up. The only thing he has left is being the hero, and he just fucked up saving someone he cares about.

Watching you all speculate about how Kat got injured up until this point was interesting. For a long while, a lot of you thought that the engineer would be involved. I somehow never expected anyone to associate the engineer with Kat's injury.

There were also a lot of people who thought Link was the one who injured Kat. That, I saw coming. It's been interesting to see how people think about what actually happened.

Of course, I was going to have this section go all the way until the end of the next scene, where Link faces the consequences of his actions. You'll have to see next chapter what those consequences will be.

Okay, onto the present--

Up until this chapter, I was utterly convinced that Twilight and Spirit would hate each other from the moment they meet. Then I wrote this chapter and realized that Twilight's protective gene would triumph any misgivings he would otherwise have. Absolutely no way he wouldn't find out about Spirit and not decide he was going to be the only bozo standing in his corner.

I really wanted this bit with Time and Warriors talking to be at the end of the last chapter. In my brain, the pacing just makes more sense that way. I can't even regret pushing it off until this chapter because their talk ended up being so long.

I also had to write this scene twice because the first time, Time was way out of character.

I was initially worried that Time explaining his point of view would be redundant, but after blindsiding you all with his extremely bias POV during his argument with Spirit, this ended up being necessary. My bad.

But also, Time's perspective is so, so... *vague gesturing*

There were a lot of people who were really certain that the child must have hated Link after Link hit him in the temple. Since then, I have been waiting for someone to connect that scene with the moment where the engineer hit the child first. I thought someone would point this point out after Time's argument with Spirit. But, no! No one did! So I had to point it out in this chapter!

I gotta emphasize that Time is not necessarily correct. But I swore that once I got everyone comfortable with Warriors's morality, I was going to start throwing curve balls to challenge your opinion. And as Time puts it, if Spirit can be forgiven, then why not Warriors? Weren't they both responding to shitty situations? And is Warriors correct when he says it's different?

And why am I writing literary response questions for my own fic? Damn.

I originally scrapped the Wolfie scene because it was too cheesy, then I had to put it back in because I had been writing Twilight like the scene was still there

I've been worried that CTB Hyrule has become so iconic for being kinda a hard ass that he's being flanderized, so I figured he could be the one who declares that everyone is safe and sound.

Wind gets a new haircut because it's not real trauma unless your hair changes. The author is someone who changes her hair every time her life falls apart.

And he has a cool anime-esque eye patch because he's thirteen and he deserves a cool anime-esque eye patch

There actually was going to be a scene where Warriors shared his plan for the Triforce with Lana first, but I cut it since I didn't want to have the same argument twice, once with Lana and once with the Chain; it still feels a little out of character for Link to not talk to Lana first.

So the Warriors and Spirit scene

I wanted to convey that talking about everything that happened too soon would cause Warriors to sort of relive his memories and worsen his trauma. I wanted to try showing that without needing to outright state it, hence the dream-like sequence.

I think this was largely successful. People get the idea. Shout out to this story for forcing me to get good at writing trippy sequences, though. I wasn't really planning on that.

I think my favorite part about Twilight taking control is that he still needed Four to do some of the heavy talking for him. Power duo between a grown man and his 16 year old BFF

As I promised, a Triforce quest comes with a lot of morale quandaries that we now have to navigate with the characters, the biggest one being what is the definition of a war won? How do you wish for a war to be over without causing a larger disaster?

Everything about the world building for the Faovarian government and society was designed to add complications to that question. You can't annihilate the army without killing thralls. You can't use it on their ruler because they have a senate who can be replaced. They're an empire made of conquered people, so there's the risk that you could hurt an oppressed state.

But yeah, we're ready to go on another adventure. The boys are sticking together a little bit longer, and now we have to go meet up with Lincoln.

I wanted to get them on the road this chapter too, especially so that I could end with another really important Spirit scene, but I punted that off to the next chapter. Hopefully, the pacing for the next chapter won't be too weird.

And because the ending is different from what I had planned, I didn't know HOW to end things. Then I remembered how much you all liked dog imagery.

One last note: I love reading everyone's thoughts on the story, especially your thoughts on Warriors, Spirit, and Time. I am amazed by how many different takes I have seen. There is no one out there who is thinking the same thing.

On one hand, that's terrifying for me. When I was younger, I was really into the idea that a successful story left every reader thinking the same thing. The part of me that is forever 20 years old is scared shitless that someone is going to have a bad take and get mad at me for it.

The part of me that is older and somewhat wiser wants all of these polarizing opinions. Every reader brings their own experiences to the table, and I want to see everyone reaching their own conclusions about the characters. I love this. I relish in every ask, reply, or AO3 comment. I love your mini-essays and note taking. I love knowing what everyone thinks.

So, yeah. I just wanted to take a moment to reflect on that. Things are a little terrifying, but they have to be in order to be exciting as well.

[nerdieforpedro]

WIP Wednesday

Welp after this week, there will be one more week of Sard’ika Sessions. I’m kinda proud that after next week, I’ll have actually completed a series. A great way to start the new year. 😆 This week is session five so we’re almost done Space Buddies! Thanks for sticking with me this long. I appreciate you all. ❤️

As for an actual preview of something, I decided on two things, one is from a pending new series with Dave York (Nerdie, you never finished the old one.) One doesn’t dwell on the past and we move forward!

An email comes Monday, a member of your new department would like to meet with you, give you materials to prep before starting the job. Seems fine, legit if you will. You did check with your old manager to make sure and they assured you that this Dave York is who your contact is. You weren’t sure if you should dress casually or business like for this meeting. It was your week off, you decided to wear your favorite dark green long sleeve button down dress with black flats. A mix of business and play if need be. Hair tied up and a tight bun with your favorite bright pink lipstick, may not have been business but you liked it, that’s what mattered. York had emailed you and told you to meet you for brunch, at least you’re getting food.

The second is a second helping of Mr. York! There were a few Pedro men on the brain but Dave came out ahead and maybe, just maybe I’m finishing my first Dave York series. 😘

“No. Not right now. Just let me…Fuck.” Dave whispered to himself. Her concern and confusion were understandable, but he didn’t care. “You want to know how I really feel about you. What I really think Peach? Fine.” He placed his bloody hand on the back of her neck, pulling her in for a kiss. She didn’t react at first, but her fingers found their way into the loops of his cargo pants. It could have been the frustration at not really saying what they meant or that they had just been arguing but as their tongues danced, they crept toward the bed falling onto it and laughing at how absurd the situation was. It was then that Kiara initiated the kiss this time, grabbing Dave’s shoulders and pinning him under her. But after a few more make out sessions they both fell asleep in their clothes. Greeted by the sunlight of a new day.

I may also be marinating some more WIPs:

Frankie (haven’t decided if subby Frankie will be back or another Frankie will appear. He’s like a Pokémon - gotta catch ‘em all!)

Joel (might be Joel & Layla with them being sweet, might be a darker Joel I thought about in the QZ. My mood will determine that.)

Din (which Sard’ika ending soon, I do plan on one or two epilogues and working on one of four Din WIPs)

Santiago (haven’t written for the man but I do have bullet points and Tom slander 😆)

Dieter (Weddings 101 with Dieter shall continue! Daisy will be back and so will Oscar for more beef. In case you haven’t voted on the poll for chapter 4, click here.)

Well all, I talked a whole bunch. Dave and I have appointments to keep and to use these sheets and gasoline. ⛽️ Yes will wear a mask, you never forget THAT smell. 👃

No pressure tags: @saturn-rings-writes @megamindsecretlair @secretelephanttattoo @rhoorl @trulybetty @maggiemayhemnj @fhatbhabie @theywhowriteandknowthings @frenchiereading @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @javierpena-inatacvest @goodwithcheese @soft-persephone @soft-girl-musings @morallyinept @pamasaur @perotovar @chronically-ghosted

[moodymisty]

Your writing about Sevatar stalking and catching one of Salamanders’ civilians makes me think of a big bad dragon swooping off with the princess. Now the Salamanders have to steal them back.

Part 2

Ya know, this is a path I never thought about before this ask. I kinda love the idea tbh.

Realistically the Salamanders are probably one of the few chapters who might fight to get back one of their civilians. But the issue stands that in Sevatar's case, he isn't exactly one of your run of the mill Night Lords; He's basically a peak Space Marine. Granted his stealth tech would be completely nullified by the Salamanders, as proven by Nykona.

Maybe Sevatar (or another Night Lord) stole a civilian that is very close to a particular Salamander and they go on a furious tirade to get them back? Not much would probably be able to stand between a massive, dragon killing Astartes who's favorite human is in the hands of some other Space Marine. Astartes are deeply loyal just kind of by design, so it works. They'd be more than willing to hunt whoever it was down for someone close to them.

I dunno, but I do enjoy this idea. I mean I'm a predicable person, so I'd love nothing more than to get to be a princess to a massive fuckin' Salamander who just burned their way through a bunch of Night Lords for me.

Love wins <3

[thegigilwriter]

16 | “Danger & Star, Rooster & Angel” — Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Female Mitchell OC

Summary. 26-year-old Lucy Asa Mitchell did not know what was in store for her when she first bumped into Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw. After an instant mutual connection followed by a sweet whirlwind romance that swept both their feet, Lucy found herself being immersed deeper into Bradley’s world of the Navy, F-14s, and deployments. What she didn’t expect was finding was the answer to an elusive part of her past — the identity of her long-lost father.

Chapter Summary. After an eventful day at work— an annoying co-worker and word of a possible advancement in her career, Lucy spends some quality time with Nat.

Masterlist

Keywords/Warnings: Inaccuracies about marine biologists, implications of sexism, fluff

16 | Lucy’s Surprise 💐

September 27, 2023

“Great dive fellas,ˮ Dr. Agnes Foster announced. “Weʼre docking soon, now listen up...ˮ

Lucy was last to arrive on the stern. Lifting her scuba mask from her eyes and wiping the excess water from her face, she sat herself on the precipice of the boat. She expertly slipped off her fins and slightly lowered the zipper on her bodysuit.

“Ugh, Diego.ˮ Lucy sighed as she picked up the abandoned set of fins nearby and set off towards the main deck with the others. A hand reached out to her as she rose and she beheld Chenʼs kind face.

“Thanks,ˮ Lucy smiled taking his fingers as she came aboard. “Diego left these again.ˮ

Chen nodded, taking his fins from her hand as they set off to the final conference of the day. Chen Zhao was a character who seldom spoke — especially when it came to the ladies. He was a little older than Sam with inky black hair, thin eyes, and a broad nose. He was the tallest of their bunch and spoke the most languages, which ironically for such an introverted individual, was is favorite hobby. Chen was brilliant with tech and research, and alongside Sam — they were quite the pair to be reckoned with.

“Where the hell have you two been?ˮ Dr. Agnes squinted with her hands on her hips. “I told you not pick up after Diegoʼs shit, Lucy.ˮ

“They were about to float out to sea, Doctor.ˮ

“Then so will his paycheck!ˮ She hissed. “Now get your asses down here — we need to prep for the upcoming conference in Japan. Our research is one of two chosen in the entire North America continent...ˮ

“Thanks wifey,ˮ Diego winked beside her. Lucy rolled her eyes. Far before Lucy had met Jake ‘Hangmanʼ Seresin, she already had the pleasure of working with Diego ‘The Tigerʼ Alcaraz. Aside from Dr. Foster, Diego was the oldest— 37-year- old bachelor from Tarifa, Spain, known for his sixth sense for whales and his amorous reputation among women. Heʼs 6��0, sandy-eyed, blue-eyed, fit, and well- articulated. There are rumors that he once modeled and acted to pay off his student loans. He loves to write and heʼs mostly harmless... but he did have a tendency to pick on Lucy when he feels like it from time to time.

“... Now on the matter of the presentation,ˮ Dr. Agnes announced. “This year, I have decided that one of my associates... will join me on stage.ˮ

Silence ensued the space.

“But... only research heads are permitted to do so,ˮ Sam raised. “Doctor — whatʼs going on?ˮ

Dr. Agnes casted her eyes downwards and took her glasses from the bridge of her nose and placed on of its legs between her teeth.

“...youʼre not retiring, are you?ˮ Sam asked.

“No,ˮ she sighed. “But Dr. Murphy will.ˮ

“Youʼve been asked the Director position,ˮ Diego said. “I thought Dr. Murphy retiring was only a rumor!ˮ

“Doctor...ˮ Lucy breathed. “If thatʼs the case... then you would be the first woman Director of Umi— in history.ˮ

“It isnʼt final,ˮ Dr. Agnes spoke slowly. “Iʼm in the running with another esteemed individual whose identity I will not be disclos—“

“Itʼs Dr. Abrams,ˮ Diego informed confidently. Dr. Agnes glared at him.

“I will be neither be confirming nor denying that,ˮ she ignored. “But I just want to make sure that in the event that I do become Director, I would like to leave this research group in the best hands — and I would like to make known those two individuals whom I am considering for... right now.ˮ

They waited with bated breath, and in that moment, Lucy stared at the faces of her fellow associates. Chen and Diego would make the most sense. Diego has worked with Dr. Agnes the longest and had both an amazing applicable and theoretical understanding of cetology and the nature of their research. Chen on the other hand was simply brilliant. Whenever Dr. Agnes needed something typed up — a proposal, a report, a finding — she always went to Chen and he always got it done in no time. Not to mention, because of his tech savvy background, Chen would have the upper hand of using new technology that would further the reach of not only the research of cetology — but of other fields. The man was also basically an encyclopedia of marine biology!

“Diego and Lucy.ˮ

Lucy froze. Her heart had stopped, not quite comprehending the names that had just come out of Dr. Agnesʼ lips.

“The conference is at the end of March in Tokyo. More details will be communicated in the near future. For now... gird your loins.ˮ On that note, they all felt the ship dock at Umi and Dr. Agnes acknowledged them with a nod before exiting — then everyone shared an exhale.

“Congratulations Lucy,ˮ Sam smiled. “I knew youʼd get it.ˮ Chen also came up behind her, patting her shoulder fondly.

“Not so fast, Trace.ˮ Diego tutted. “Lucy isnʼt the only one with the ballot in the hat.ˮ

“Right,ˮ Sam rolled his eyes. “Diego ‘Peacockʼ Alcaraz is.ˮ

“You know itʼs Tiger!ˮ He countered fiercely. “Besides, I have seniority — the position is rightfully mine. The only reason why Lucy is in the mix is because sheʼs a gir—“

“Are you sure you want to finish that?ˮ Sam spoke. “Because if I remember, Lucy kicked your —“

“Leave him be Sam,ˮ Lucy sighed. “I will not dignify what he just said with a response.ˮ

Diego smiled. “Youʼve grown quite a bit to be an amiable little lady Lucy,ˮ he chuckled. “Have to admit... I kind of wished you were still the spitfire I first met... but of course things happen in life — and with Ford and all... I guess youʼve just lost that fire.ˮ

Sam considered Lucy carefully, her eyes defiant but her stance calm as she began to fix her belongings into her tote and head towards the dock.

“Maybe you need some other things to occupy your life, so wouldnʼt have to hold on to this promotion?ˮ He goaded.

Just then, as she stepped out from the ship, she was met with young red-headed girl in denim shorts with a bouquet of flowers.

“Hi,ˮ she spoke nervously. “Are you Lucy Mitchell?ˮ

“Yes?ˮ she replied.

“These are for you... from a... Bradley Bradshaw?ˮ

All suffocating feeling gripping her instantly washed away when she first whiffed the scent of the babyʼs breath, the assortment of colored-roses, and, daisies wrapped in pretty crepe paper.

“Sign here please,ˮ she smiled and Lucy did as directed. Behind her, Sam was smirking widely at Diegoʼs amused expression. Chen approached her.

“Those are beautiful,ˮ he said quietly.

“Thank you, Chen.ˮ Lucy smiled at the flowers. Sam followed, ignoring Diegoʼs nosy stare. Chen pointed to something concealed in the babyʼs breath.

“Whatʼs that?ˮ Sam remarked as Lucy retrieved the mystery items.

“Tickets to the Monterey Bay Aquarium,ˮ Lucy breathed. “And... a Coldplay concert in Santa Clara.ˮ

“Ooh, lucky! The Aquarium has a new one-of-a-kind Into the Deep Exhibition! Plus Coldplay front-row tickets— and itʼs this weekend!ˮ

A small placard revealed itself among the tickets.

Happy Birthday, Angel

Pack your bags. This is non-negotiable.

Love, Daddy

Lucy blushed, hiding the writing hastily out of sight.

Lucy stepped out of the foyer, donning a some dark wash denim shirts, sandals, and a breezy pale blouse. Her salty beach waves were held up with a pearly clamp and she had on a pair of one of Francescaʼs oversized sunglasses. She was about to send Bradley a text when a silver sedan pulled up in front of her and rolled down the driverʼs window — revealing Nat in a cute sundress.

“Hi,ˮ Lucy smiled. “Are you picking Sam up? Heʼs working overtime, today.ˮ

“Iʼm picking you up Luce,ˮ she replied. “Bradleyʼs stuck at work and he gave me his card to get our nails done. Get in!ˮ

Lucy went around to the passengerʼs side just as Nat was clearing out the seat and throwing things at the back.

“You can put your tote and flowers at the back too,ˮ she told her. “Sorry for the mess.ˮ

“My carʼs a disaster too,ˮ Lucy laughed. “Youʼre fine.ˮ

Nat chuckled as Lucy strapped herself in and the car was on drive, exiting the parking lot.

“Nice hair,ˮ Nat remarked. “You guys went for a dive, or something?ˮ

“Oh yeah,ˮ Lucy grinned. “Love the water, hate the paperwork.ˮ

“I hear that,ˮ Nat nodded as she stopped at an intersection. “So... any salon you regularly go to?ˮ

“No...ˮ she replied, staring at her nails — weathered and short. “I donʼt really get my nails done unless Iʼm with Francesca or thereʼs a family thing...ˮ

“Thatʼs okay,ˮ Nat smiled, turning left into a boulevard. “We can go to my girl.ˮ

“Hey... does Bradley really intend for us to get our nails done?ˮ

“Well...ˮ Nat frowned a little looking over at Lucy. “If youʼre not comfortable with that we can always do something else, babe. We can get something to eat or shop a little...ˮ

“Thank you Nat, but I think Iʼd rather just go home...ˮ Lucy sighed.

“Are you feeling, okay?ˮ Her brow creased with concern.

“Iʼm okay...ˮ

“Cʼmon now Luce, this may work with Rooster but it wonʼt work with me...ˮ

Lucy conceded, sighing.

“Iʼm in the running for a promotion—“

“Thatʼs great!ˮ Nat exclaimed. “All the more reason to celebrate— Wait. Whatʼs wrong?ˮ

“Itʼs just something really stupid that a coworker made me think. Itʼs nothing. Never mind.ˮ

“You come from one of those families, huh?ˮ Nat spoke. “The kind that made you feel if you pretend your problems arenʼt there, then itʼll all be better?ˮ

Lucy averted her gaze in her direction.

“My grandparents were like that,ˮ she continued. “Thatʼs why I never really know my dad as I should have. Heʼs been shut like a clam all my life... But I also learned from Rooster... itʼs not really obvious... but heʼs a little clueless when it comes to you, you know?ˮ

“Itʼs okay,ˮ she smiled. “That there are some things youʼd rather not tell anyone... I mean thereʼs a lot about me Iʼd rather take to my grave. But... donʼt make him feel that youʼre pushing him away, okay? He hates that. Youʼre really good to him and the sucker is a sucker for you...ˮ

Lucy looked down at her hands.

“A coworker feel made me today that the only reason Iʼm in it for the promotion is because Iʼm a girl and my boss is a girl and we were just... helping each other out.ˮ Lucy sighed. “Maybe heʼs right, you know? Diego has more years of experience than me and when it comes to whales— heʼs basically a whisperer! I wasnʼt even qualified for this team in the first place. I-I donʼt know...ˮ

“And does getting your nails done make you feel even more like a girl which in turn furthers your point?ˮ

Lucy nodded slowly.

“Okay letʼs get one thing clear,ˮ Nat replied. “This Diego figure sounds like an insecure asshole whose name sounds like it belongs to a fuckboy.ˮ

Lucy suppressed a derisive laugh.

“Lucy, Iʼve worked among men for many years and if thereʼs anything I can tell you is that you cannot change their behavior, their mentality, and even how they look at you. Thereʼs a real, inherit, biological component there... which also means that they can be and will be stupid until the end of time unless evolution says otherwise. But what you can change... is how you look at yourself. Are you capable? Lucy, are you capable?ˮ

“I like to believe so.ˮ

“Iʼm looking for a ‘yes,ʼ babe.ˮ

“Yes.ˮ

“Do you work hard?ˮ

“I do.ˮ

“Do you want this job?ˮ

“Badly.ˮ

“Then donʼt even worry about the shit that this Diego says. He doesnʼt matter in this equation, you do. You should never think badly of being a woman and neither should you apologize for it. Okay?ˮ

“Okay,ˮ Lucy replied quietly.

“Okay?ˮ

“Okay!ˮ

“What does this Diego even have on you? Why is he acting like some sexually frustrated little bitch?ˮ

Lucy laughed.

“I uh...ˮ Lucy picked at her jeans nervously. “I may have... sucker-punched him in the throat when we first met because he wouldnʼt stop asking me out,ˮ she replied nonchalantly as Nat finally pulled into what appeared to be a nail salon.

“Woah, baddie in the house…ˮ Nat stared at her as Lucy chuckled. “You know what? I donʼt know about you, but Iʼm going ultra-fem with my nails today and Iʼm not taking anyoneʼs shit for it tomorrow.ˮ

“I might just join you,ˮ Lucy smiled, ducking out of the passengerʼs side.

We all need a hype woman like Nat to pick us up on our bad days, sometimes :)) Personally I prefer not to get my nails done ‘cause I have a weird sensory issue… does anyone else have that? 😂 Anyways, gird your loins! Got a ‘whole lot of fluff (and some spice 😉 🌶️) up ahead!But first, let’s kick it off with some important deets for the plot at 17 | Birthday Wish!

Taglist: @itsarabellebabes

[ghostinthegallery]

And Szeras' main body is done!! At least until I find something I need/want to fix. He is my first real character/centerpiece model so given that I'm pretty happy with him! Obviously things that could be improved, but I'll take him for now. Now time to paint up his little friend (switched the normal dude for a space marine I stole from the Be'lakor kit spouse painted for a friend) and then terrain.

Trying to decide how to paint the blood donor. First thought was a good old fashioned ultramarine (blueberries are often found in nature, and ties into Pariah Nexus) but I do want to practice my Salamanders scheme (I have an infestation of space marine models that I really should do something with and Salamanders are my favorite chapter). But a Salamander being turned into a smoothie makes me sad. But it DOES tie my armies together...

Ugh, decisions. For now I am happy with my spindly science spider (god this model is a pain in the ass good riddance)

[iantimony]

this tuesdaypost was drafted on monday, please clap

we are cookin with Gas this week

listening: listened to antimai a few times through, favorite track i think is 'ring 5: middle class'. dorian electra - man to man: really fun video too charasho (benny friedman): was linked in jew chat. very charming and funky. 5 Old French Dances: No. 5. Le Basque (arr. for 2 recorders and harpsichord): i heard this a billion year ago on the radio (my wakeup radio station on my alarm clock is classical) and i finally got around to saving a link for it. very bouncy very cute. makes me think of rabbits running in circles a la beatrix potter.

EDIT TO ADD: i also finally listened to beyonce 'cowboy carter'!! i know im late! it's good i like it! not a revolutionary opinion! obsessed with her jolene cover! that's all!

reading: big one this week! i FINISHED 'the left hand of darkness'! i really liked it! still marinating on the themes etc. i started 'the dispossessed', also by le guin, and am devouring that as well. there's some stuff in there that oof ough. existential. but i'm liking it so far, i'm around chapter 5 right now. physicists!

fanfic: imposter syndrome (mikkeneko): i might have already linked it but i can't be assed to go back through a few weeks of tuesdaypost to see if i already have. so if i did, here it is again. really charming premise, gut-punch of an ending, cool twist on the doppelganger setup from dungeon meshi with svsss.

the articles, some of which were actually read a while ago but i forgot to link and am now cleaning out my phone tabs: how will the golden age of 'making it worse' end? (david roth) new canada policy lets indigenous people reclaim their names (emma bowman) what happens to the stay-at-home girlfriend after a breakup? (erika w smith) unschooling is the parenting trend that's pissing everyone off (ej dickson) in defense of 'coffee badging' (monica torres): if i had a job that was all zoom calls i would literally go insane over being made to go into an office to take zoom calls. fuck that what my mother's wardrobe taught me about style and grief after she died: thinking a lot about all my dad's shit will semen destroy your shower drain? granny davis' geocaching page: found when i was looking at some reviews for caches near my apartment. im kind of obsessed with her. she also has a facebook page called 'granny's geo page' if you don't have a geocaching account. literally she is everything to me. she has found So Many fucking geocaches good god. wedding trivia questions: used as reference to create some wedding trivia for a bridal shower! similarly, the wikipedia page for morganatic marriages my fight with a sidewalk robot (emily ackerman): my school has these. hate them. my boyfriend just linked this to me and im obsessed, laser etched paperweights, i am not a huge paperweight girlie but wowwww prettyyyyy. the electron orbitals!!!! i had a search open for "anti mega #1 cray street". i have no idea what this is.

special edition: the link dump from my trip to the uk last month! some very related to the trip itself, a few random extras! top of the poops, an architectural firm bc i saw a sign with their logo and thought it was cool but now i can't find their logo, waring ader space invaders because i saw someone's shirt with the little space invader guys and was like ooh the tate museum joel meyerowitz (and another page about him) wikipedia on gratin dauphinois, wikipedia page on doncaster for some reason i did not go there list of artworks at the national portrait gallery of scotland wikipedia page on the jacobite uprising of 1745 washi tape that would match the edinburgh one i bought there, tintin in the land of the soviets postcard that i didnt end up getting wikipedia for a quaich which is a traditional scottish bowl, a wiki page on the geology of arthur's seat, a book in the scottish national galleries that i thought about purchasing but didn't want to try and fit in my luggage (she is definitely one of my new favorite artists though) wikipedia page on lauryn hill for some reason not sure how i got there, wikipedia page on salome halpir this post was on tumblr and i tried to find the item in the victoria and albert museum but it was sadly not on display, one of the audio guides i listened to a bit of in the v & a, a scarf i almost bought in the v & a a google search for the fabric library at harrods because my mom mentioned that it existed but i could not find it search for blinq (apparently spelled that way) blossoms because of a cocktail my brother's friend ordered that had one as a garnish wikipedia page on the mechanical explanations of gravitation

watching: from wool to cloth using a historical weaving technique (jillian eve): oughhh colors

emma in the moment/made in the moment: a deep dive into the chunky boy crochet lore the crochet stardew valley pillow drama untangling the shocking tale of mystical creations yarn i tried red heart's new all in one granny square yarn

some crochet tips videos from play hooky with me

tiffanyferg: 'personal style' discourse hgtv is a gentrification masterclass cleantok villains and the morality of messiness

playing: a teeny bit of wizard101

making: fallow. well i guess i drew on some cards for my friend's bridal shower. but generally fallow.

eating: made deb smittenkitchen's delicious carrot cake recipe. mine was a little ugly but really really delicious. i bought a bag of preshredded carrots and just sort of roughly chopped em up a little smaller because i couldn't be assed to grate them. i also couldn't be assed to trim the cakes, i did two smaller round pans and stacked them up but because i didn't trim them they were a little wibbly. oh well.

i'm going to bake another cake for my brother's birthday next weekend and i'm between her chocolate olive oil cake (looks really easy) and bittersweet chocolate and pear cake (a little more involved but highly recommended by bee)

misc: my mom wanted to take a sailing class but didn't want to do it alone so she offered to pay for me to come. sure, said i! i have never sailed! i like learning new skills! reader, it is So Fucking Hot Outside. the wind died and we had to get towed back to shore. the sun was so strong. there are so many ropes with all different names and they all Do Something. sunday's class got cancelled/rescheduled because the weather was That Bad (hot as fuck and no wind) so we're doing it probably friday instead (and saturday. and sunday. it's two weekends in a row of both days at 9am yayyyyy) but i just hope the weather is. better.

[sharenadraculea]

My 40k-OCs (so far)

Johanna: Very grumpy, very old terran-born Dark Angel. She is very no-nonsense, get the job done and move on and has a weakness for orbital bombardement. Do not misgender her or you get a heavy flamer to your face. She also has pretty severe dysphoria and thus is basically always wearing armor and just generally a lot of issues from multiple centuries of basically always figthing. And post-heresy she becomes the chapter master of my homebrew chapter, the Archangels.

Inia: Also known as Pretty Boy. Originally from the Second Legion, but he stayed loyal enough and now Johanna has to deal with him. They end up in a „They have been a couple for how long?!“-situation. He is very upbeat, very dramatic and has a thing for cannibalism and a gigantic oversized anime-sword. He‘s very gender. My whole second Legion is based on mermaids and whales and sirens and Inia is very siren-y. Also he absolutly has opinions on which traitor-legion tastes the best.

Ishtor: Thunder Warrior I made up for a one-shot and got attached to. He and Johanna were friends and then he died

Nia-9: Tiny Tech-Priest. She has been travelling with Johanna since the start of the great crusade and the two has been best friends for a very long time, do not attempt to seperate them. Also of course all the archeology she conducts is completly ethical (by the standards of the mechanicus)

3V-α-14142 (EVA): Nia‘s favorite creation, a heavily costumized Skitari serving as her bodyguard, research assistent and secretary. Technically there have been multiple EVA‘s because sometimes they die

Annabella: Originally the thirteenth bastard of a minor Caliban noble, later becomes a Space Marine and then goes renegade. At least a little bit chaos-touched, but won‘t admit it. Actually very chivalrous and knigthly. Also likes monsterhunting. She is hard of hearing and lost a arm and a leg during the destruction of Caliban. Also goes by Annie

Scarlet Roserio: Last of a exiled Navigator-house. Stupidly rich and has approximatly a thousand health issues. Annie crashlanded in her backyard and now the two are gay space pirates for each other.

Umbra: Psyker Night Lord that kind of hangs out with the pirate-warband. His grip on reality is less than good and he likes to mutter about inevitable doom. Also he is definetly in cahoot with some minor warp-entities and has a whole pack of hunting dogs.

Angelique: Umbra‘s adopted daugther and a blank that somewhat keeps him sane. She is also a actual psychopath and generally takes after her dad. Also she‘s a sniper

Phillip: Navigator-child Umbra kidnapped picked up semi-recently. He‘s not having a great time, especially since Angelique would like to be a only child again.

Caramel: Noise Marine. He‘s been doing this for like three days and has no idea how anything works.

Emilia: Titan-Princeps and cool old lady. I need to work more on her

Orcus: Second Legion Primarch. She‘s based on a Orca. She‘s having a good time nearly all the time. This does not guarantee that anyone else is having a good time. Might later turn into a funky warp-mutated space-mermaid.

[ask-the-shichibukai]

Hello, everyone! I hope you are all well.

I'm trying to get some of the Warlords to tell me what to post next 😂 but in the meantime, I'm happy to tell you that I officially turned the fanfiction I posted here a few days ago ("How the Shichibukai Meeting went to Hell") into the first part of a series on ao3 called "How to make a crocodile and a hawk' blood pressure skyrocket - by D. Doflamingo". Take a look at it if you liked the first part and now want to know in what kind of insanity our favorite Warlords will get themselves into 😁

If you are interested, the series is still open to suggestions, since I just started to work on it. The rating will be mostly T because it was thought of as a comedy. The plan is to make 4 instances of the series (3 parts and a spin-off/prologue) more or less.

The general idea is:

0) "The Warlords' Job interview" (chapter 1 - 2 - 3). Have you ever wondered how the WG ended up choosing that group of recalcitrant madmen (and -woman) in particular as their pirate assets? That's exactly what I want to show you: the time when poor Sengoku spent a very bad morning - turned to worse afternoon - having to interview the original members of the Shichibukai to see if they are suited for the job.

(it is an AU because they joined the ranks at different moments of the canon timeline while here they all show up at the Navy HQ at the same time; and Coby is also impossibly present for reasons).

1) The aforementioned first part, which was posted both here and on ao3.

2) "How a stupid, stupid plan was formed" (one shot). The sequel of the first part, where the Warlords and the Admirals attend the real meeting with all the shenanigans it implies.

3) "The misadventures of a crocodile, a hawk and a flamingo". A probably multi-chapter fic where Crocodile, Doflamingo and (a reluctant and unwilling) Mihawk are sent by the Marines to gather information about the emperor Red-haired Shanks in a mission that'll only spell trouble for them. Shanks has in fact been aware of it since the beginning and so he takes every opportunity to make fun of their attempts with embarrassing countermeasures. To add salt to the injury, they are forced to share their living space for all the duration of the mission. And, because it never should be said that they are petty people, they decide to make the resulting frustration everyone else's problem. Excerpt:

Mihawk: "Tell me again why are we doing this?"

Crocodile: "For the same reason we do everything else. The paycheck."

Doflamingo: "Come on, we'll have so much fun together, the three of us! Trust me and lighten up, you mummies!"

Let me know what you think of this project and if there's something you'd like to see in the still-work-in-progress instances of the series (0, 2, 3) 😁

[kit-williams]

Fast Husbands and Wall Husbands

@moodymisty you might be able to help me with this

I, in a notebook, have figured out/bulletpoint ideas the rest of the yandere space marines except for White Scars and Imperial Fists and I'm at a fuckin loss.

Maybe I'll come back to this after I write everyone else but I also want to save probably the 2 darker (Black Legion and Salamander) Yandere's for the very end so that I can give everyone a chance to actually enjoy myself before I get dropped like a hot sack of potatoes for ya know writing something that is going to be grim and dark.

(Dear god if you thought what the Tyberos darling went through was bad I'm just gonna say it now... the Black Legion darling will have it worse.)

But I'm just at a loss for what is good material to inspire me for Imperial Fists and White Scars because I'm gonna be honest the Fists are one of my least favorite chapters (number one of least favorite is Iron Hands) and just the White Scars don't have a lot.

[on-the-topic-of-saint-soln]

uploading some pics of my models

these are mostly gonna be for hosting on my neocities

but it won't hurt to have them here too :)

my first models ever on the left. they came with a old "learn to paint" type kit that came out around the time they introduced primaris marines I think? the kit came with a couple paints, just enough to make some Ultramarines :) looking at them now the paint is very inconsistent. lots of colors going over edges into other spaces, the layers of paint not being uniform, etc etc. I don't want to touch these guys up though. the have a beautiful first model charm to them I still think looks cute uvu

on the right is mine and my partner's stand in self OC type marines. each have their own chapters. his is the slightly kitbashed Chaplin mine is the female space marine (also technically kitbashed because of the head). these two are definitely my favorite models I've ever made. I put a lot of effort into making them colorful and unique but also very clean. maybe add some stuff here about the chapters and the names?

here is my guardsmen. main center is our regimental officer, his kitbashed vox officer, and one of the standard guardsmen. the rest of the command squad is still in my pile of unfinished work T~T the vox officer is my idea for the planet all my models exist on. he's from the local imperial cult and counts as a veteran guard unit. this way they look like a nice fanatic vibe while still looking guard enough.

top left is a special unit I managed to nab from the

[knightposting]

If you get this, answer with 3 random facts about yourself and send it to the last 7 blogs in your notifications, anonymously or not! Let's get to know the person behind the blog :D

oh fuck forgot I had this in my inbox.

1.I have dreadlocks! I've been growing them for around seven years now. I used t have different locks before then, but had to cut my hair to fit into my cap and gown for graduation(still salty about that.)

2. My favorite space marine chapter is The Lamenters, their luck is so fucking atrocious that it loops back around into making them total badasses for continuing to survive the absurd circumstances thrown at them.

3. One of my favorite dishes is Jamaican Curry Chicken.

[kisskissbanggang]

HI IM BACK FROM THE TRENCHES OF THE REAL WORLDDDDD😭😭 born to read sexy space fanfic, forced to be a functional human in society :(. i don’t even know where to START with chapter 7… I LOVE ALL THESE LITTLE GREMLINS, but minho’s moment with y/n… that damn GUN🗣 has got to be my favorite. their dynamic is so HOT AND FUN AHH! also, THE WAY I FELT CALLED OUT WHEN MAN STARTED MOCKING NOVA FOR THINKING IT WAS “too obvious” THAT HE HAD IT- imma head out. I MEAN, we were RIGHT!!!!! SOOOO HAHA TO YOU MINHOE!! im so glad we all unanimously chose to join in on his little plan. i’m almost certain my ass will sing like a canary when asked, BUT THAT’S BESIDE THE POINT☠️ i have to be completely honest though… seungmin has stolen my damn heart. the little moments we had with him so far have just pressed all the right buttons. it’s been fun to mess around with the others, but seungmin continuously saying he gets jealous and UGHHHSJFKFJWKKDHD the moment when he has her pinned to the wall. him saying she probably isn’t used to having someone’s full attention…. i need him. I NEED HIM NOW🗣🗣 he’s everything to me idc. i’m LOCKED IN! i’m trying to be like changbin and felix (before the big wife reveal). there definitely is more to the situation, so i hope felix and him are able to work it out🥹. i will never get enough of this story! the way you write is so thrilling! i literally CANNOT stop myself from getting sucked into the plot. you’re such a talented author🫶🫶🫶🫶 THE HATCHERY IS GOING TO BE A MESS AND WE ARE ALL HERE FOR ITTTT (i wanted to be with babyboy seungmin but chose hyunjin for the CONTENT✊). so excited to see where you take this -3-

- 🌟 anon, aka seungmin’s future wife & your biggest simp fr <3

AHHHHH HELLO LOVE THAT'S OKAY REAL WORLD COMES FIRST

the first rule of this house: get that bag 😔

THAT BEING SAID

They really are gremlins I love them so much🤧 crusty space mariners and a bunch of cozy bros, the lot of them

Okay but, the scifi gun kink was TONED DOWN from the outline 😭 it was going to be DISGUSTING but I simply didn't have the strength 🫠

I really love how MC and Minho are teaming up. We'll have to see how their dynamic grows since he doesn't fool around with wingmen 😏

BUT SERIOUSLY can we keep this a secret forever? 🥴 Someone HAS to find out... Right???

BUT SEUNGMIN PRAISE LET'S GOOOOOO can we tell I'm in my Seungmin hours CAN WE he's just a gorgeous, dangerously unassuming guy, maybe he'll provide an interesting challenge at some point 👀👀

And YES there's definitely some depth to the Changlix drama. Like there's be a LOT of drama apparently, but this is THE drama. We'll just have to see where this goes 🤩

🌟anon, my love, you are giving me LIFE with your little updates, this series is for you and your fellow readers as much as it's for me 💕💕💕