#can never spell it

[foldingfittedsheets]

I have never been able to comprehend when people spell out loud. The letters jumble up hopelessly and I can only hold up to three in my mind before I completely lose the thread of what’s happening.

That made it particularly difficult when I worked at the pizza place. It was no problem when someone said their name, but when they spelled it was like my brain was instantly replaced by panicky static.

A coworker once asked, “Why do you look petrified the second someone starts spelling?”

I just shrugged uncomfortably. It sounded silly to admit I couldn’t spell in my head. Over and over I’d hear a name and have a clear vision of how to write it only to have them start saying letters aloud and my certain spelling suddenly scrambled into gibberish. I’d stand frozen, staring down at the paper trying to remember the name and forget the terrifying jumble of individual letters.

My solution was to simply ignore people trying to spell at me. If some white girl said her name was Kristine and I spelled Christine who did it really hurt? I’d willfully stop listening and just started writing the second they said a name.

This led to a young man in line telling me his name in a light accent. He took a breath as if to start spelling but then cut off to audibly gasp, “You spelled it right!”

I looked up in confusion. “There’s another way to spell Seamus?”

“No,” he assured me.

I felt warm and fuzzy that I could make at least one person happy even if a myriad of Kristy’s went away miffed that I couldn’t listen to their spelling.

[zolo-san]

look I did the thing~

Alternate blue text for Sanji (x)

[notimeforlaugh]

so....

I did it

[royalarchivist]

Phil: Ok, there we go– you should both have 100 coins, I think.

YD: We won't forget this. We can't forget the person who helped us when we were in need, we will definitely pay you back this money.

Phil: [Laughs] It's ok! You don't have to pay me back, it's alright.

YD: No! 😤

Phil: [Cracks up] Ok ok ok!

YD: [Laughing] We will definitely pay you back! Got it?

KongKong: This is Korean affection.

Phil: Ok, ok! [Laughs]

[haydenthewitch]

okay so. can you imagine

the 118 gets called to a spirtual spot due to some cristal-ball mayhap (it was left in line of direct sunlight and it set a bunch of curtains on fire.) Luckly no one was hurt, and the sprinkler system is up to date, so the shop doesn't even have major fire damage to it either. While there, tho, Buck ends up in the possession of a rabit's foot. And suddenly he's having a streak of AMZAING INCREDIBLE LUCK.

"It's not a thing!" eddie insists.

"You can't argue with facts!" buck tells him. "And the fact is, i've been having a statistical improbible bought of luck today, AFTER i got the rabbit's foot. Should i go to vegas this weekend?"

in a cosmicaly comedic twist of events, their next call is to the office building of a private jet's comapny. and buck pulled some crazy stunt, saved the ceo, and now he's being offered two free round trip tickets to anywhere in the country.

so buck packs a bag for vegas. and he tries to invite maddie, but she's WAY too pregnant for all that. So instead he guilty asks if she'd mind taking chris for the weekend so eddie and him could get away. ("yes, but only if you ask him out at somepoint durring your trip." "MADDIE!" "WHAT? i'm getting impaient, buck.")

So he manges to convince eddie to get on the plane with him, and watch him gamble the weekend away ("for sceince, eddie. to prove that i actualy do have a bunch of luck!") and for the first day they have a BUNCH of fun. Buck doesn't actualy gamble more than $50 at any table or slot, Becuse he's not stupid and he knows how these things work. He does lose close to $200, But he wins it all back (And then some!)

"See, eddie! i'm winning even when the machines are rigged! that has to be luck!! i made a net profit in vegas! it has to be lucky!!"

so anyways, they go back to their fancy hotel room (paid in full by the time of their arvial thank's to buck's INCREDIBLE save at the fancy privte jet company) they are wiped out, and they plan to both take a good nap when...

"Oh." Buck says. "There's only one bed."

"So?" eddie says. "That thing looks like a hiwaian king +!! there is plenty of room for the both of us, buck."

(Is this part of the rabbit foot's luck?)

so they climb into bed together (climb into bed! together!!!) and take a nap.

By six pm they are back out on the town, and boy is vegas after 6 pm WAYYY diffrebt than vegas in the full sunlight. They go out to this SUPER COOL (most likely tourist trap) resturant on the vegas strip, and the bill has to be MIGHTY but buck doesn't get to see the number before eddie snatches it up to pay.

("eds, let me pay. vegas was my idea, come on." "Buck, no. i've got some fun money stashed away. plus, you got us private flights and a room for free with your herotics. i'm paying tonight." buck is blushing so much he can't come up with a proper counter argument.)

Buck sees a poker lounge, and he insists that they go in. Thay have fun, and by the time buck has played two games of poker, they are both plesantly buzzed and gigling up a storm. eddie, of course, didn't play. he much prefers watching buck play, watching him work his charm and read pepole like open books. His boy is sooo good at that, fuck.

and then. someone is talking to buck. pepole have been talking to buck all night, and it felt. fine, normal, okay, fun even. this chick... does not feel like any of those. good lord. she's fucking flirting with buck right in front of eddie's goddamn salad. he instantly gets hot under his collar.

and it's kinda petulant, more than it's anger. anger is too scary of a word... he doesn't feel anger, not his hands curling into fists or hot short clipped thoughts. Yes, it does feel petculant, like a child who doesn't like to share. Couldn't this lady see that buck was clearly his?? couldn't she see how eddie felt too, how eddie was, quite simmalarly, clearly buck's? they were practicaly married, couldn't she see the wedding band mark branded into his soul??

fuck. maybe eddie was drunker than he thought.

buck is taken aback when eddie leans over to him, and says right into his ear. "You know, there is one more vegas thing to try."

"What's that?" He asks, trying to pointidly ignore amy (the lady who was clearly flirting with buck even though he only wabted eddie) and her attempt to lean closed to hear this cobversation.

"Vegas wedding. you and what's her face could totaly go get married right now, if you wanted." eddie says and... oh my god. eddie is jellous.

"Nah," buck says. trying to remain casual about the whole thing. "I'd rather get married to you. Make this whole 'necular fam' thing we got going on in Cali' offical."

and eddie... fucking glows at that.

"Hey!" the dealer snaps. "Do you want to be delt in for the next hand or not?"

"No." eddie tells him. "We've got a wedding to plan."

when they show up to their next sceduled 24 hr shift, they can't stop looking at each other and giggling. hen and chim clock the energy hard, but they decide to ignore it for the first half of the shift. that is until...

"How did vegas go? any elvis weddings?" ravi asks.

Buck freezes in place, but eddie doesn't even look up from his phone as he says: "Oh, elvis wasn't there."

Hen IMMEDATLY sits straight up on the couch. "Who Got Married????" She asks, a hint of urgent hilarity on her voice. Buck puts his head in his hands, blushing wildly becuse. good god, he's never going to live this down. "Buck!! WHO GOT MARRIED??"

"Yeah, Buck! who got married??" eddie says, mocking hen but ALSO teasing buck. The little shit. So, to get back at him.

"You know, you aren't being a very good husband right now, eddie buckly-diaz."

10 long seconds of silence, and then all HELL breaks loose in the firehouse. but you know what? it was fucking worth it to see eddie blush all pretty like that.

("Did you tell maddie yet?" Chim asks immedatly, and buck swears. "no, fuck, i havent." chim just grimaces, and says "that is NOT a secret i'm keeping from my wife. you better text her now if you want her to hear it from you." Buck groans, becuse fuck. chim is so right. this leads to:

Buck: eddie and i got married in vegas

maddie: what

maddie: the

maddie: fuck

maddie: this is NOT WHAT I MENT when i said you should ask him out, evan buckley.

buck: it's buckely-diaz actualy

buck: and it's still unclear if we're together

maddie: buck. EXPLAIN

Buck: Oh my god what's that sound it's the bell haha gtg maddie ily

maddie: I HATE YOU )

[the-judicial-assistants-notebook]

not enough discussion about the gavins' complicated relationship with feminine-coded/beauty products, i don't think.

[evilminji]

Back at it again~! With my PIDM Wife-OC Thoughts!

A SI-OC obviously, because I am a sucker for that "stranger in a strange but familiar land" vibe! It's about the subtle sense of alienation, you know? This is not your heaven, not your earth. Not your sky, not your stars.

Not even... in fact, your body.

You Do Not Belong.

And yet... you remain. Persist. Struggle, as all life does, to find both happiness and purpose. A stranger here. A thief. Unwilling, yes. But cast into stolen goods regardless. Forced to live out the rest of their life, for them. Forever to wonder... DID you steal it? Or did they die? Did you merely pick up what was already cast aside? Would they forgive you? Can they?

Does it matter?

That's GOOD SHIT! Love me some exploration of Self! Of Identity!

And? It's made SO MUCH BETTER? I realized? If you become a Nameless Wife Charater!

'Cause here me out! In the beginning~☆ They were named characters. Had personalized stories. Personalities for the readers and Binghe to remember. But as the numbers grew and grew? They became Beauties. Flowers.

Fetishes.

That one is the cat girl wife. This one is the milf. Over there is the one with the nice feet. He fucks, he marries, he promptly forgets. Except when he wants something, of course. The consent of half those marriages? Shakey at best! Fuck or Die scenarios. False promises. Altered states of mind!

It's everything about being a Woman, historically, on steroids.

You are nothing but a vessel for your husband's power and pleasure. Again, remebered as a fetish. That intimate, private, thing that you shared with someone who you thought you love... who you thought loved YOU? Becoming all you are and all your known for.

The tits ones. The one who does that thing with her tounge. The freaky one, who likes to-

It's a pretty, gilded, hell on earth. And you've already shown up too late. Story's over. Except! No it's NOT. Because the author is a hack. And is dragging it all out! There is nothing but needless drama, torture porn, and ACTUAL porn for decades to come!

What do you DO?

The woman you were... ARE now, didn't survive her God awful Fuck or Die scenario. Not really. Maybe if the Protagonist still CARED she might have. If he had moved to help FASTER. But he's grown so jaded, so cold, he took too long. She died and he never noticed. You took her place and he never knew her well enough to tell the difference.

Can you even call that "courtship"? We fucked. Congrats, you're married?

Are... are you supposed to LOVE him now? Treat him like a spouse? You KNOW how you would treat a spouse. But that was always assuming either monogamy or failing that? A REASONABLE number of other spouses! Like "could fit at the same average sized table" number! THIS? This isn't a marriage. It's a legion. You've been literally fucking conscripted! Heavy emphasis on the fucking part!!

Do they expect you to, what? Sign up to the fuck roster? Wait eagerly for your turn, being used and tossed aside? To dream of the day a man you barely know, slips into your bed again? To mess you up with his INFAMOUSLY HUGE MONSTER COCK?!

Are all of you FUCKING INSANE!?

But that's the thing? Isn't it? SI-OC is trapped in a porn logic horror movie. And the monster is both her fellow victims... AND their Husband. Harem infighting takes no prisoners. None of these women will EVER believe you don't secretly want Husband's undivided love and attention. The POWER that comes with it.

And? Worst of all? The reasonable reaction of "THE FUCK?! Get away from me!" Even if cautiously implemented? RIGHT after he has "Won" a new bride? In that BRIEF moment before he near completely forgets she exists beyond a number and few base facts?

That's like waving a bag of treats in front of a bored dog. Ears come up, attention? Grabbed. The unfortunate combo of his traumas, neuroses, demonic instincts, and sadomasochism all blending together into history's most unfortunate paste. The more you DONT want him to pay attention to you and to go the fuck away? The more he NEEDS you to love him. Worship him. Pay ATTENTION to him.

It's the Shizun issues. Which are Daddy/Mommy issues(extended edition).

So OBVIOUSLY? SI-OC needs to LOVE him. And he's gonna haunt her like the horror movie monster he is until she does. He has literal Gu in her blood. He can track her anywhere. MAKE her feel any physical sensation he pleases. Pain? Easy. Pleasure? Even easier. Why NOT try an condition her to love him?

Morals? Boundaries? "Because that's deeply fucked up?"

Ha ha... So?

Reading about a character like PIDM Luo Binghe and MEETING a character are wildly different experiences. One? Is fantasy. Mere escapism. Trashy porn with a cool character or two. The OTHER? Is deeply, DEEPLY and viscerally horrifying.

It's the difference between the naughty and transgression fanasties we might have in private... and the Actual Serial Killar who traps us in a shed.

THEN?

Mr. UNHINGED? Meets Nice Shizun™. And it ALL goes to SHIT. Very, very fast.

Cause, see, before? BEFORE? Bingge didn't KNOW what he wanted. He was just gathering everything. All of it. For himself. In the vain hope it might finally fix why he's unhappy. That he might be able to hold on to those brief little highs, that he got from victory. From sex.

But NOW? Oh NOW he KNOWS what he wants. He wants Nice Shizun. Nice Wives. Not a BIG number but a CONCENTRATED amount of adoration. He realizes he's been going at this the wrong way. So?

Spring cleaning.

He has a specific vision of what he wants. And if YOU have to die for him to get it? That's a sacrifice he's willing to make.

All those women. Trapped. Reduced to "beauties", "flowers", and fetishs. People who had hopes and dreams. Ambitions of their own. Who were so much MORE then their appearances and ability to be fucked. Dying. Day after day after day. This one not "kind" enough. That one doesn't smile right. She was too cold, too awkward, too proud. Dead, dead, dead.

Why are you crying? We're going to be so happy~!

A story that starts at the End. In hell. All those Wive's family's rightfully seeking justice. Getting caught in the crossfire. Because... because she is so tired. Because there are younger wives behind her. Because she has already died before.

Maybe this time will be kinder.

(That poor man. The warrior who shot her. She knew his sister. He... he looked so horrified. He didn't mean to hurt her. She forgives him. She... for..give..s...hi..m)

Waking up in SVSSS.

Indeed, the next life IS kinder. The System apologizes for the poor integration! She was SUPPOSED to awaken during the EARLY days of PIDM. Become a Main Wife! Help the story reach its full potential! However, PIDM was mistakenly categorized as "simple fix"! And handed over to a Beginner System.

It... is NOT.

(And even if it WAS, you put the User in the WRONG PART OF THE PLOT! *mechanical whacking noise*)

So~! Please enjoy this Journey Of Healing Side Plot~~☆ (yaaaay! Woooo! *confetti* pls don't be upseeeeeet~☆! Ha ha...) in which you, the User, will go one wonderful journey of Healing~☆!

..........is this a bribe? (Yes! It absolutely is! Please have some extra points, valued customer!) She... will take that bribe. Pleasure doing business with you. Kindly keep Crazy Pants away from her.

So NOW? We have Two camps. Team "fuckers, I DID MY TIME" over here in her SECOND-second run. Having her lovely, supportive System and slice of Life exploration of the world. And the OTHER two reincarnators who are all "wtf? That's not fair! Why does wife 453 get that but I dont?"

Ha! MAYBE?? BECAUSE she had to live as the woman remembered, even by YOU Mr. SUPER FAN and THE ACTUAL AUTHOR, as "Wife 453"! Tell me? What. Was? MY? NAME!? Hmm? Not my tit size, not what he did to me in bed, not what he thought of me naked, MY NAME. What was my favorite color? What I hoped to achieve in life?

The part where I KNOWINGLY and CONSENSUALLY agreed to marry that man.

Make Mr. "Everyone's gay for Binghe, who WOULDN'T want to marry him?" Face that... yeah, some of them DIDN'T. Make Airplane look into the face of all the women he condemned, however unknowingly. Let them look upon a kind face that STILL shows no sympathy, that says onto to them "the only way through hell, is to keep walking. Stop complaining."

Still ends up with Tianlang-jun though. Because she emphasizes HARD with being trapped for no reason. And being on the "wrong" side of the narrative, going down with the ship? There is a peace to that. At least this time... SHE chose her fate.

And Tianlang-jun doesn't want to fuck her.

They both got Trauma™ around that. Intimacy directly lead to the worst events of their lives. So like... how bout a cuddle. Everybody keeps their clothes on. He's a god damned mushroom, ffs. They are GOING THROUGH IT. But! They are GETTING through it.

Old married couple vibes. Except they are both literally NEVER getting married again, so help them gods. Because, Again, Trauma. So like... Tired Sassy Immortals who read bad porn together and their beleaguered Snake son. Hang out in a crypt.

AND THEN BINGGE SHOWS UP.

@mayfay @legitimatesatanspawn @spidori @babbling-babull @hdgnj @leftnotright @lolottes

[gojosoups]

Whenever I see a grammar error and someone has already reblogged the fic, I wanna kms and the person who reblogged it and everyone and anyone who let it happen 😭🙏

[zolo-san]

look I did the thing for LawLu~

[snaggletoothedbastard]

I've seen a couple of people complaining that the Captain didn't get a Coming Out Scene so that means it's Bad Rep, and I think they're missing the point a bit.

Like, sure, it would have been nice to see him finally come out but also, he doesn't have to? Personally I think it's amazing that ThemThere managed to create a character who isn't openly gay but is so obviously gay that we all just know without him having to say it. It's clear that they put a lot of thought and care into all the signs - the way he looks at the guys he has crushes on, the little offhand comments about Mike making a very fine soldier or the builder being handsome, the references to queer culture (Dorothy, Elton John, Cole Porter etc). They didn't half-ass this. They knew exactly what they were doing, and they were careful and subtle about it.

Also, we know the Captain's personality by now, right? He only talks openly about personal matters when he feels it's absolutely necessary, like when he's explaining about the bomb in "Redding Weddy" and explaining how he died in "Carpe Diem", and he doesn't seem particularly comfortable in either of these instances. He was alive in a time when he either wasn't allowed or didn't feel that he could be open about who he was, and seeing as he's sort of stuck in that time, what with him still acting like the war's continuing, he's obviously still heavily repressed. And it's in character. It makes sense for him to still be closeted. And of course, throughout the show he does gradually learn to relax and open up a bit, but he's not a fan of change anyway so it also makes sense that it takes a while for him to do that. As shown in "Gone Gone" after Mary moves on, he'd rather keep himself busy than talk about feelings.

And this is more a personal preference here, but I really really love seeing a gay character who isn't out. Now this doesn't mean I don't like openly gay characters, I love them too. But we see quite a lot of them, and it's just nice to have something a bit different. The Captain means so much to me as representation because while he's not openly gay, it's still very clear that he is gay. He's not a queerbait character, because they haven't hinted that he's gay and then revealed that he's actually straight. They've purposefully made the Captain gay, and there's barely any ambiguity, so even though he never says, "I'm gay," you'd have to be a fool to think he's anything but.

Queer people don't suddenly become queer when they come out. Just saying the words, "I'm gay," doesn't make someone gay. Being gay makes someone gay. That's it.

And the Captain is gay. That's it.

[rooolt]

All Tony Collette knows is sell car, drunk drive, be bisexual, smoke cigarettes, and lie

[only-lonely-www]

Family Resemblance

But like look at the concept art, the resemblance is crazy

[bonicedemandarina]

Click for better quality!

Hey guys I'm still into wha btw, here's my art for the deciduous spells zine, just wanted to draw my favorite guys being happy for once.

I feel like my art always ends up being in a modern au idk how, it just keeps happening

[laswells-ashtray]

Do you have anymore Weapon!Price? I just can’t get enough of how you write him as a sergeant and his interactions with Mac.

Also, since we’re on the topic: I think when he and Nik first meet he’s awfully wary of the Russian and avoids him like he’s filled with diseases. I also think that since Mac is in his tiny circle of trust, he’d keep him away from the pilot.

That wouldn’t stop Nik though, and he would(slowly but surely) get John to trust him enough to where they can talk without John holding him at gunpoint.

It's reflexive to treat anyone around him with suspicion and borderline disdain. His only exception is MacMillan. Mac is the hand behind the trigger, and John is the shield that warps into position to ensure any stray bullets head his own way. Any knife launched in Mac's direction will meet John's throat long before they draw Scottish blood. That's his captain.

And that's exactly why John pushes himself between Mac and the Russian stranger who insists on feigning a friendly dialogue with the captain. He not so subtly pushes MacMillan back and keeps the older man behind one of his shoulders.

Nikolai's stance is too open to be honest. He's open to different attacks, making himself seem almost docile in nature as he talks to Mac but John sees the scars covering his forearms and the bruises painted across his knuckles. Nikolai is a violent man, the question is: is he a quick one? Could he outmove John if the sergeant decided to plant a knife between his ribs?

He doesn't plan on finding out unless he has to, MacMillan isn't overly fond of how blood stains concrete when it pools below bodies or drips from John's knuckles.

Nikolai's eyes drift between MacMillan and John curiously, raising an eyebrow at the sudden, blunt interruption. He's half smirking, clearly entertained by whatever meaningless falsehoods he was rattling off to the captain under the guise of being helpful. As if MacMillan isn't one of the most competent and downright vicious men on base when it came down to it. It's only a matter of time before the Russian is caught spinning a web of fabrications and stories of suffering, Mac would wrap the web around his throat and let him hang from it.

He'd wait patiently for the day and he'd kick the stool out from under his boots when it arrived. Made in Russia, buried in Britain.

So, he stares blankly at Nikolai until the Russian stops talking and he mutters some half-hearted excuse to leave, anchoring his hand around the Scot's wrist and dragging him away. The amused scolding he receives is worthless in the name of the captain's safety.

When Nikolai walks in, there's already a blade in his hand that he's mechanically cleaning. The repetitive actions are good for him, calming or at least that's what Mac says. John would argue that the most therapeutic activity of all is breaking every bone in someone's hand until they're incapable of using it without chronic pain, every little twinge of pain that shoots up their wrist would bring John's face to the front of their mind.

But he knew there were some opinions he just didn't verbalise, he might be a weapon but he'd been taught the basics of social etiquette contrary to popular belief. John just chose to dismiss that lesson when the man behind him wasn't enforcing it with a belt.

The Russian man glances around the room and it's obvious that he appears to be looking for Mac. They'd be stuck with him for the foreseeable future according to the older man, Nikolai had connections that they didn't and they had to utilise him while he was available.

John will put a knife in him without hesitation if he puts a foot out of line, in fact, he's willing to ensure he leaves the Russian with a jaw wired shut if he so much as approaches the line and there is no doubt in his mind that Nikolai would.

He doesn't roll his eyes when the other man sits down by John's table, nor at the questioning look, he receives when Nikolai notices the way the other soldiers in the room make a conscious effort to avoid so much as even looking in John's direction. He's the feral dog that only the captain can pin down to muzzle, it's hardly a secret.

He cuts off Nikolai before the words have even left his mouth, he has no time to entertain a man whose hours are slipping by him like sand in an hourglass. He should await every word with bated breath in case it should be the last he'd ever hear.

"MacMillan isn't here, he won't be available until half five and then you can find him in his office. Don't waste your time wandering, go back to your bird."

It isn't an order. John Price isn't a man who orders people, he isn't a man at all. He's the split second of recognition before a bullet pierces someone's skull.

It's advice. Stay in your lane and hope that no one merges into it with a semi.

Nikolai, to the surprise of no one, does not take it.

The Russian man looks far too amused as he leans forward, elbows resting on the table and eyes drifting across the scene of John's knives in front of him. "You have a very... distinct way of telling someone to piss off."

John narrows his eyes at the other man as his hands still on the blade reflexively, the split-second preparation of a stabbing is arguably the most important part of one. The time it takes John to register whether he's thrusting the knife with his dominant hand or not, how much vigour he's using to bury the knife in the flesh and the point of entry for his blade.

"You have the ability to use your legs so I've yet to see why you're failing to piss off." He counters, irritation practically dripping from his tone.

Clearly, Nikolai retained some of his intelligence on whichever journey landed him in the UK. he's quick to push himself up from the table but not without a deep, hearty laugh at John's expense.

"I see, I shall leave you to your knives. If you see your captain, tell him I would like to see him."

The sergeant only glowers at him in lieu of a response.

"Please."

He smacks MacMillan's hands away instinctively as the captain reaches for John's jaw. He can't see out of his left eye and he looks like he's been doused in blood. Most of the crimson staining his clothing isn't his, he's only responsible for it. But there's a laceration above John's left eyebrow that's spitting and bubbling blood across his face and the severity of it appears to be a point of contention between himself and Mac.

You'd think his eye had been gouged out with the way the Scot had responded to the sight of his sergeant.

There's a presence lingering by their side that has John's good eye trained on the knife at Mac's waist. Nikolai had been involved in the shitshow of a mission, much to his own displeasure.

John had torn through crowds of armed men like taking a chainsaw to paper, he'd cut them down with a lack of hesitation and a growl arising from the back of his throat. He hadn't cared what the Russian had witnessed, he could take it as a warning. The sanguinary display at Sergeant Price's hands is far from uncommon.

He ducks back again when MacMillan tries to land his hands on John's face and he's met with a swift smack to the back of the head which only incites John's primeval desire to bite the man.

"Fuckin sit still while a deal wae yer heid, ye squirmy prick." The Scot chastises.

John's bestial act of protest is to offer Mac's shin a soft kick.

"Cunt."

He'd been called worse.

If it weren't for the fact that the blood oozing from the wound on his face had seeped into one of his eyes, forcing him to close it then he'd have caught the hands as they moved and beaten the shit out of the man they belonged to. But he doesn't and before he can attempt to, he's met with MacMillan flicking his forehead like John is an unruly toddler instead of an unrelenting mechanism of slaughter.

"Don't. Ye've done yerself a fuckin nasty yin here and he's stopping the bleeding, ye hit him and a'll huv ye tits oor taes."

If it weren't for the fact that his very sense of being is shaped around the survival of one Captain MacMillan then he'd be performing a makeshift vertebrectomy on the man for all to see.

He watches bitterly as Mac walks away, likely searching for a medic who can stitch John's face up and add to the collection of scars that decorate his being. Every mistake immortalised upon his skin. His entire frame is defined by his inability to meet the standards of a military-grade weapon.

The faint change in pressure against the wound on his face is enough to make him hiss and clamp his hand around Nikolai's wrist, pointedly ignoring the fact that the rag held against the mangled, gaping cut is already sopping. John has always been a heavy bleeder.

"Apologies."

For someone so willing to apologise, it only takes one good eye for him to see the lack of remorse on the pilot's face as he continues to stand over John, one hand holding a cloth dripping scarlet to his face and the other large, calloused hand holding the back of John's head so he can't escape the heavy-handed treatment.

"Stick yer "apologies" up yer arse." He mutters.

Nikolai snorts and presses a little harder.

Alcohol is a sinner's creation, made by unrighteous people who wish to watch even the strongest-willed people fall victim to the iniquitous.

At least that's what John chooses to believe as the Russian next to him rolls onto his back and the sergeant is met with the sight of his cock.

He rubs a hand across his face, taking a moment to scrub at his eyes in hopes that he could awaken himself from whatever nightmare situation he has found himself stuck in.

He'd grown used to Nikolai's presence. The man is useful and after John watched him snap the neck of a man who'd tried to attack MacMillan from behind he decided that the pilot could stay, under John's surveillance.

The Russian is handsome, that is factual. He's tall, he's strong and he's hairy. He has scruff decorating his jaw that he pretends not to care about but he never lets it grow into a proper beard. His biceps are bigger than John's and after offering to spar with the man to teach him something, John had felt just how big his arms were when one ended up around his throat. For only a split second before he sent the Russian to the mat. He's chesty and he insists on wearing the tightest of shirts which irritates John to no end.

But none of that is enough to warrant waking up next to the Russian with a condom wrapper on the floor and finger-shaped bruises on his hips.

He remembers getting dragged to a pub, to celebrate a mission gone right was the excuse of Mac. To get plastered was what he meant. At one point during the night, he and Nikolai had drunkenly stumbled outside for a cigarette. Apart from groping the Russian's tits, John can remember little else.

"Fuck."

The pilot lifts his head off of the pillow and smirks at John, evidently charmed by John's sober reaction to a drunken escapade.

"I believe that is what they call it, yes. Some people also label it sex."

He's quick to turn, grabbing the pillow behind him and firing it at the other man's face. The startled "oof" brings him no satisfaction as it's followed by an obnoxious chuckle.

"This doesn't make you any less insufferable." He remarks exasperatedly.

Nikolai tosses the pillow towards the end of the bed and climbs towards him, offering John a look that makes him far too aware of how hard he is under the duvet.

"I could be insufferable with your cock in my mouth?"

Well, fuck if he isn't right.

[aroaceleovaldez]

yknow i joke about pjo fandom being "ableism fandom" cause of how ironically the fandom behaves about disability themes in the franchise (and within the community) but the notes on that one post are apparently indicating the majority of the fandom legitimately did not process any disability themes in the entirety of the series besides being explicitly told in direct terms that demigods have adhd/dyslexia and that actually explains a lot

[radiocrypt-id]

Classified. They are watching.

Comforting (and enabling) a grieving mother.

Usually, no one else is there for her. Strange, how the local cryptid and voice of the Federation is the one present to comfort Jaiden?

Do you think, somewhere along the lines, Cucurucho has, or will, become attached to her? She's so kind to them, so gracious in her opinions of them.

I wonder if her view of them alters them in anyway? Cucurucho sure is kind to her, and around her. Good acting? or genuine? I'd like to think they've become fond of her, in some way, and is actually happy to see her when they interact. That they do want to help her, in some way. They're limited in what they can do, but if they do view her in this way then... well, they'd have to be careful, wouldn't they?

I love how Jaiden interacts with this weird bear creature. She never gets angry at them for their limited speech and their lack of control over what they're allowed to share with her. She's so understanding and sweet.

(edit: i forgot to watermark it like at all)