#i have zero idea what this is but take it

[christinescupofcoffee]

Multis. Although… I do enjoy the stray one shot every now and again.

A bit of both, and i’ve found that I’m most relaxed when I write without a plan (or at the very least having an idea as to where it’s going but not really having a destination. All my fics the last couple of years have been like this).

I take my time with chapters now—last few times I’ve gone on ao3 for any reason, the damned thing crashes (really, I’m worried about that place. I can’t expect it to last for the next four years the way it freaks out every couple of days). I worry about things like censorship, too: so getting my fics saved onto my laptop, I’m free to write and continue these stories at my own pace. My laptop is offline, too, i.e., no distractions. Sure, I can’t share anything, it’s a hassle, but… I kind of like it. It’s giving me all the 2016-2018 vibes when I was in the dark, away from the world, living in my own world alone. Everyone was screaming and yelling and carrying on about the political landscape and I just tucked myself away into my own imagination. I kind of want to do it again, if I’m honest.

I feel so raw saying this, raw and vulnerable, but… I have always been in love. I have always found myself crushing on someone. I have always written from the heart.

Honestly? *looks around* not really. It can be very useful, helpful, inspiring even. But… I approach this the same way I approach the culinary world and art: I bake a cake or make a drawing the same way I write a long fic, and I simply cannot divorce my heart from my work. People like to gripe about this sort of thing until the cows come home… no one has no idea how it makes me feel. Yes, I know my grammar can be complete shit at times, and yes, I am very verbose, but that’s how I roll. No need to shame me and make it seem like I just committed a mortal sin by accidentally omitting a word.

Nope. No beta, we die like Titans of Creation.

It has to “speak to me”, if you will. Seasons Grey works with third-person perspective because you don’t know everything about Christine and Alex is a mystery. Blood & Chocolate and After the Gold Rush work with first-person perspective because it’s intimate. Xenon Dreams works with the alternating first-person because all five men have different experiences, and it’s intimate; conversely, All That Glitters has the alternating third-person because it’s more adventurous. Now it’s Dark and Dark Months of April and May use first-person because it’s unreliable. Quarter After Twelve has the what I call “2 whole eggs, 3 yolks” perspective (Andy and Zero’s arcs are first-person; Richie, Tina, and Allison are third-person), as Andy is traumatized, Zero is stuck in one place, Richie and Tina are both still waters, and Allison is a broken man and therefore detached.

Beginning (what I get for being an Aries 😅)

I try to—and you know, I would be a lot more adept at it if people didn’t bitch about it ad infinitum. I was thinking about this the other night when SNL50 was going, too: fandom has changed drastically just in the last few years alone, in a sense that fans not only treat it like it’s business but they spend more time whining about the most trivial things (lack of comments, getting criticism, this weird unhinged approach to fandom as a whole) than doing anything useful or creative, god forbid.

“Meanwhile, once she had come downstairs, Alex had already showed up outside of her apartment in a snug dark gray shirt and low-slung black long shorts. His shoulder-length black hair was almost smooth and nicely combed back: there was a slight curl right over his shoulders, and his skin looked as smooth as porcelain. He looked a bit fuller, rounder, and softer right then, especially with the shade cast down from the building upon the crown of his head and his shoulders. He lifted his sunglasses up from his face to show her his eyes.” (latest chapter of Dark Roots of Earth, book two of Seasons Grey)

Genuinely don’t want to do that because… you know. ao3 is more mental than me the week before my period starts. But… With Strings Attached, the Beatles fic that inspired pretty much everything long from me. There’s a Light, the Pearl Jam/grunge fic that I still think about even 8 years after its completion. My friend Amanda wrote a two-parter that inspired Midnight Oil (drawing a blank on the title). You Know Your Rights on Wattpad (can’t remember the author’s name), probably the best “Hole-vana” fic I can think of. The entire Gojira tag on ao3. There’s a couple of Alan Partridge fics on ao3 that got a good laugh out of me. Love in Exile and a couple of Alice In Chains fics that wake up the kinkster in me. FOOLS GOLD (from Cazio).

I have a complicated relationship with feedback. I welcome it forever, but because I had to go through English and writing classes, peer reviews, teachers who ran on assumption that I knew what I was doing, the whole thing about me writing from the heart, and the fact that I tend to attract negative attention (I’ve often felt that people have an inexplicable pathological hatred of me), I never expect accolades. In fact, I fully expect everyone to hate it.

Be descriptive. I like bending this one and injecting poetry into things, even if it doesn’t seem to make sense.

This has been a learned skill on my part because when I first got into fiction writing, it was hard to not get melodramatic with things. I’m an emotional person and the other thing that’s worked for me is a cause and effect situation as well as pulling from my own scars: in Seasons Grey, Christine lost her best friend at a young age and sort of buried it. I wonder how everyone is going to react to this tidbit of her life, especially Alex—especially since he reminds her of Chris. In stories like All That Glitters and After the Gold Rush, I just sit and think of angst. What would happen if Jed and Octavius suffered an irreversible falling out. Where would Phileas go if he just started thinking and realized what was happening, both with Monique and Passepartout and back home in England. I feel like I made those three more human with this, too.

My smut is so wordy that even I can’t believe it. I have to set the mood as well as be spontaneous with it. It’s genuinely isolating when I look at smut in other places, too, like I can’t just do 1200 words, I have to lead into things and I have to be real with it all, too.

A bunch 😅 As the Seasons Grey. I started writing it in early 2023 after doing kinkmas during a blizzard: it basically just grew out of this fantasy I have about being a source of comfort for the man.

Exercise. Draw. Read. Garden. Bake and/or cook. Watch a movie or TV.

I think there was a couple where I came up with the title after I started writing simply because anything else I came up with sucked (fever in, fever out was an example of this; so was Have Your Cake and Eat It). Like with perspectives, titles usually speak to me, and they’ll come in song form or in sayings. “xenon dreams” is a weird one, though: xenon is a byproduct of radioactive iodine, which is found in fallout. That whole fic had this dreamy, blue color scheme whenever I thought about it; xenon is blue/indigo when electrolyzed.

“Alternate Universe”

A love of food. A feeling of heart throughout. This overreaching feeling of vulnerability within, a tenderness. Writing because I have a crush and no one knows how to react to it. Lately, I’ve been throwing in little call backs to my other wips in my wips, like it’s a spiderweb.

Yes, but I don’t see it happening any time soon, though.

Second-person perspective. Done to fucking death at this point and something about it just irritates me to no end, like it ruins my immersion right from the beginning.

Write when you can (instead of “write every day”, because sometimes you just can’t write every day, damn it).

“Avoid overused words” (look no further than “said”. Why. Why would I avoid “said”.) “Use active voice” (I’ve found a lot of power in being a little passive or submissive, if you can believe it. Conversely, I have had the most complaints from my active voice).

now it’s dark. My last adventure before the pandemic. Joey himself even loved it!

fever. Homeboy was 1.1 million words!

Most favorite: just seeing my internal worlds come to life. Least favorite: sharing it with everyone.

2-3k is considered a good day to me. 4-5k is “I got snowed in/it’s too fucking hot out to do anything” word lengths.

Ha, you really don’t want to know.

Yes.

Characters. Maybe that’s another reason why my fics tend to be entrenched in heart?

Amanda. Aviva Rothschild (author of With Strings Attached, i had to look her up really quick). Drawing a blank on the name of the person who wrote Love in Exile.

Of course!

Hopefully not like my homeskillet Oscar Wilde.

Their darkness exists in all of us to some degree.

Nervously with a pit in my stomach, a devastating feeling of existentialism, and a side of ginger ale.

Yet another thing that speaks to me.

Yes… but I don’t have the best experience with them, though. I tried to get commissions with my art years ago, and… there’s a reason why you aren’t seeing them.

(see above)

bro, if you make fanart of Alex and Eric on the lawn outside the apartment complex at sunrise, of Erik and Dragon talking, of Isaac flipping out on Richie, of James and Richard at breakfast, of Phileas napping, of Octavius and Ahkmenrah getting slack jawed drunk, of Jane and Vanessa with their braids… I’ll be happy.

If I really like something, I’ll read it several times.

The last fic I left kudos on ao3 was a compilation of Strawberry Shortcake one shots: underrated fandom and it was snowing outside, so I was in a cozy mood. The last fic I bookmarked was a one shot from Ideal Home: it was erotic and very tender.

The latter. I really only put them through pain to ground them.

I have no beta but I omit words all the time.

I want to make you laugh then break your heart, and then vice versa—such is the Steve Coogan school of writing.

Emotionally charged idyllic action

2. Any more than that and I’ll drive myself crazy.

🤷🏻‍♀️

All the time and I don’t deal with them.

1.1 million, AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

4.9 million, I think?

I want to. Believe me, I want to. I’m way more responsive on instagram, though, mainly because I can see you on my lockscreen. There’s none of that nerve-racking “oh, shit, what is it now” that comes with getting an inbox notification.

Definitely a writer. When I read, I go way outside of the fandom (like Strawberry Shortcake, old Top Gear, lesser known literature and theater, anything Steve touches). I’m not afraid to go into unknown territory, too, like Around the World in 80 Days with Steve and Skinwalker Ranch. Maybe that’s why Bandom writers can’t stand me?

Really, just writing the thing.

Hands down, Alex. He’s the love of my life. I just found him on a whim, in a bad part of history, and I was drawn to his plume of silver and his intellect. He brings out the sensuality in me, too, more than Joey or Lars.

🤷🏻‍♀️

Wait until it’s finished. Again, I’ll drive myself crazy.

Writing without question.

No, and yes, I would. My mom wrote fics way back in the era of message boards and mailing lists, back in 2001-2002, so she gets it.

Can’t say I have.

I like doing it and… referring back to fandom changing for the worse, is it just me or do fics, especially rpf fics, seem kind of mean-spirited now. Seriously, I can’t remember the last time I read some rpf where it felt like the author actually likes the guy involved, aside from the thing Amanda wrote. There has to be some heart here.

Painful but my god, do they keep you engaged.

“Coming inside” someone. Screaming. “Good girl.” Tight pussies—bitch, no one’s pussy is that tight. Weird euphemisms for body parts, too. When you’re reading about your kink and something happens that turns off the whole mood or doesn’t gel with your approach. The author claims to be sex-positive but there’s something off about the whole thing, like there’s no way that they are. Goes without saying I don’t like a ton of smut.

“Good boy.” Foreplay. Tension, like… you’re anticipating it and you don’t know if it’s going to happen or not.

Bringing it to life. Cozying up all snug next to Alex, Eric, Joey, Lars, Krist, Richard, James, Steve, all my boys under the warm sun away from the world…

I don’t think about it anymore.

Independent ideas. I guess this is the other reason why I hate kinktober other than feeling rawer than a frozen chicken?

Everything.

Black Diamonds. I got called “disgusting” for that, if you can believe it.

Totally embarrassed. I’m enthusiastic but every time, I’m faced with stupid reactions that it makes me uncomfortable.

…I’m not sure?

Chronological. I kinda have to.

It’s just weird.

probably the writing style.

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[javierpena-inatacvest]

Jealousy, Jealousy

Summary: Your brothers take you and Javi out to a local bar when you're home to visit. When you run into one of your old childhood friends, Javi can't help but feel jealous

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no use of y/n, established relationship)

Word Count: 3.2K

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v (whoops), creampie, breeding kink (only in the sense that there's no way in hell Javi's pulling out I know, who is she?), semi-public sex (gettin nasty in a grimy bar bathroom), two ass slaps, drinking/alcohol consumption, Jealous Javi, lowkey Javi is a dick (again, who is she writing nothing but fluff?!)

A/N: Shoutout to @yxtkiwiyxt for more horny Javi ideas rotting my brain at all hours of the day!!! 🤠 I can't believe that there has never been a jealousy one shot for these two in the great wide world of the NTL universe, but you bet your ass that Javier Peña is a possessive man to his core and tolerates zero bullshit from any man who dares to even look at you too long 😌 poorly beta'd bc I'm horny and impatient

Can be read as a part of the It's Never Too Late series!

"Another one?"

"Are you trying to make sure I have miserable hangover tomorrow?"

"Me? Never. Just tryin' to make sure you have fun." Your brother David teased, voice oozing with sarcasm as he popped off his barstool, giving you a playful nudge for your accusation.

While you and Javi had made a few trips back to your hometown of Chicago to visit your family since your move to Laredo, most of it had either been spent at your childhood home with your entire family, or at other family events, like your cousin's wedding a few months ago.

And of course, while your brothers, Charlie and David, were a part of your family, there was a substantial difference between spending time with your whole family together, and spending time with just your brothers.

So when they had convinced you and Javi to come out with them to Rossi's, your favorite dive bar in the city, under the guise of a few drinks and time to catch up, you shouldn't have been shocked to find yourself 4 beers and two shots of whisky deep, and preparing for a much longer night ahead of you than originally anticipated.

"'Nother one for you, big guy?" Charlie asked Javi, following behind David to make their way through the hot and sweaty mess of bodies crowding behind the bar for another drink.

"And before you answer, no isn't an option." David added, sneaking up behind Javi and shaking his shoulders.

"God, you are so annoying." You sighed, rolling your eyes at your brother, jabbing your elbow into his side to keep him from wrestling Javi out of his seat, "Just do two more beers. And I swear, if you come back with another shot, I'm pouring it over your head."

The four of you laughed before your brothers disappeared into the sea of bar patrons, leaving you and Javi giggling at your table.

"Fuck, I haven't drank this much since- God, I don't even remember." Javi sighed, running his hand through his hair and down the back of his head, rubbing the dark curls at the nape of his neck.

"Me either." You replied, followed by a long, low burp and more laughter, "I think the last time I was this drunk, I was here with David and Charlie and all their friends watching the Blackhawks lose in the playoffs, but all I remember is Charlie telling me I threw up in a bush and that he had to carry me to our taxi to get home. But don't worry, I promise not to get that drunk tonight."

"Sounds good, party animal." Javi smirked, placing his hand on your thigh under the table, rubbing it back and forth along the denim of your jeans, snickering at your drunken giggles.

The two of you both reached for your drinks, finishing off the last of what was left in your beer bottles, startled when you swore you had heard your name from a voice you knew wasn't Javi's, Charlie's or David's.

"Cubby? Holy shit, is that you?!"

Setting down your drink, you swerved your head over your shoulder, jaw dropping in complete surprise to see Frankie, one of your brother's best friends you had known for as long as you could remember.

"Frankie?! Oh my god, what the fuck?! Hi!" You squealed, shooting up out of your seat to give him a hug, the alcohol already in your system perhaps making you a little more enthusiastic about your greeting you would have been otherwise.

"What the hell are you doing here?! I thought the goons said you moved to Texas after everything that happened!" Frankie asked excitedly, parting from your hug to take a step back and look at you, shocked by your presence.

"I did, but I'm here visiting for the week! Charlie and David are at the bar right now getting drinks, but they'll be back in a second! Frankie, oh my god, I'm so happy to see you!" You grinned, giving him a playful shove.

"Me too. I feel like I haven't seen you in forever! You- You look great-" He paused, trying his best to play off his comment, quickly shifting topics, "Things uh, everything's been going good for you?"

"Yeah, things have been great! How about you? Wait, we have a table right here, do you wanna sit down and catch up? Unless you're busy, I don't wanna keep you!" You offered, gesturing towards the table behind you where Javi was sitting.

"Yeah, yeah, that would be fuckin' great! I'm meetin' a few buddies here later, but I have plenty of time to catch up if you guys have some room to squeeze me in!"

While you knew there would be plenty of room for one more person at your table, even after your brothers returned, what you didn't know is that since the moment Frankie had shown up, everything about Javi's once happy and carefree demeanor had completely changed.

And not for the better.

As soon as you turned around to face Javi, you could immediately sense the shift in tension, watching his brow furrow and hand wrap tighter around the neck of the near empty beer bottle he was nursing, practically burning a hole through Frankie with the way he was staring him down.

It seemed like Frankie could immediately sense it too, looking over at you before looking back at Javi, as if to silently ask who the hell was sitting with you and your brothers, looking like he was ready to commit murder, at the very least.

"Who's uh...." Frankie paused, awkwardly laughing as he nodded at Javi, trying his best to not seem off-put by Javi's clearly uncomfortable expression.

"I'm so sorry, Frank, this is my-"

"Fiancé. Javi." Javi stated, cutting off the rest of your introduction as he stood up out of his seat, sizing up Frankie as he offered a forceful handshake.

"Fiancé? Lucky guy." Frankie replied, forcing a friendly smile as he shook Javi's hand, "Congrats, I had no idea you were engaged." He shrugged, looking back at you with a more genuine expression before awkwardly shuffling around the table to find a seat across from you and Javi.

"Thanks, we got engaged in November and the wedding's in July!" You chimed in, hoping to try and ease Javi's obvious, unwarranted hostility towards Frankie.

"Oh nice!" Frankie nodded, smiling at both you and Javi, the crinkle in his cheeks dropping at Javi's still unamused facade, "Where you guys gettin' married? Here or Texas?"

"Texas." Javi answered, short and snappy with his response.

"Frank the Tank? No fuckin' way man! What's up?!"

The three of you all seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief at David's voice, turning your head to see him and Charlie making their way back, beers in hand.

"What's up, you goons? Long time, no see!" Frankie grinned, standing up to greet your brothers with happy pats on the back.

As the three of them said their 'hello's' you stayed put next to Javi, whapping his shoulder with the back of your hand, forcing him to face the frustrated frown plastered across your expression.

"What the fuck was that for?" You whispered to him, not wanting to draw any attention from your brothers and Frankie as they caught up.

"What?" Javi asked, shrugging nonchalantly before taking another sip of his beer, setting down the empty bottle with a forceful thud.

"W-what- What the fuck do you mean, 'what'?" You frowned, quickly realizing that Javi was trying to play dumb about the clearly uncomfortable interaction he and Frankie had just been through.

Javi silently shrugged again, jaw ticking from side to side as he looked back and forth between you and Frankie before speaking again.

"Just have never heard of Frankie before today. Didn't know you'd be so excited to see someone I didn't even know existed until five minutes ago."

"I've known Frankie since I was like, six years old. He's been one of my brother's best friends for like, ever. So yes, I was excited to see him. Would you like me to disclose every other person I've ever met and not mentioned to you, too?" You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest, feeling your scowl sink deeper into the wrinkles of your forehead.

Both groups of conversations seemed to lull at the same time, Frankie, David and Charlie all turning back towards your table to see the sour looks on both yours and Javi's faces.

"You good?" Charlie asked, handing a beer to you and then one to Javi.

"Listen, it was super nice to see all of you guys, but I don't wanna overstay my welcome or anything. I can just wait at the bar for my buddies if the four of you wanna hang out." Frankie suggested, clearly realizing he must have been the shift for the change of tone at the table.

"What, you're gonna catch up with these two idiots and leave me hanging? Seriously, please stay, we haven't hung out all together in forever!"

While Javi was able to make it subtle enough to everyone else, you could clearly tell that your invitation was the exact opposite of what he was hoping to hear.

"Only if you're-"

"Yes, I'm sure, Frankfurter, get a drink and sit your ass down!" You insisted, shooing Frankie towards the bar along with your brothers, the three of you howling over Frankie's long forgotten childhood nickname.

If he hadn't made it blatantly clear before, your avid encouragement for Frankie to join your group certainly had.

Right now, Javier Peña was one thing, and one thing only.

Jealous.

"I still can't believe you won't admit that I beat you!"

"Because you didn't!"

"I did, and you know it, David! C'mon you guys, back me up here!"

It hadn't taken much for the five of you to down a few more drinks- For four of you, you let the alcohol flowing through your veins loosen you up even more, laughing and reminiscing about your favorite shared childhood memories, teasing and taunting each other over the silly trials and tribulations of your youth.

For the other, the few beers and glasses of whisky swirling around in his stomach were nothing but a way to keep from saying (or doing) something out of spite that he'd regret.

"I'm gonna be honest with you here, Dave, I'm not gonna say that your sister's right, buuuut...." Frankie smirked, holding up his beer bottle to you, giving you a silent cheers of approval.

"See?! Told you! Thank you, Frankie, at least someone knows what they're talking about." You teased, giving David a jab in his stomach as he rolled his eyes at you.

"Dare I say, Cubby is more of a badass than either of you two clowns, but I don't know if you can handle that conversation yet." Frankie smiled, reaching across the table for a fist bump, "She's a pretty kick ass hockey player, ya know."

Javi had been so focused on picking at the waterlogged label of his beer bottle, he hadn't even noticed that Frankie was trying to talk to him, only looking in his direction after a nudge from your brother.

"Hmm?" Javi hummed, barely bothering to look in Frankie's direction to acknowledge his comment.

"I said your fiancé is a badass. Didn't know if you knew how good she was at hockey, that's all." Frankie shrugged, before taking another sip of his beer.

"Yeah, why the fuck would I not know that? She's my fiancé." Javi huffed, jaw clenching.

"Javi, seriously?" You whispered, shooting him a stern look as you had to quite literally bite your tongue to keep from causing a scene at the way he was behaving.

"Sorry, man, I- I was just givin' her a compliment." Frankie grimaced, shooting you an apologetic look from across the table.

"Yeah, I think you've made it pretty fucking clear how much you like complimenting her." Javi grumbled, just loud enough for you to hear and to having you fuming at your fiancé's enraging behavior.

You took one long, low deep breath, trying to compose yourself as the rest of the table sat in uncomfortable silence, wishing they had a chainsaw to cut through the palpable tension shrouding the air.

"Can I talk to you for a second, please?"

Javi knew just as well as you that even though you had phrased it as a question, he certainly had no choice in the matter, begrudgingly trailing behind you as you silently excused the both of you from the table.

In a stark silence, Javi followed behind you through the sea of drunken strangers that filled the bar until you reached a semi quiet hallway near the back of the building by the bathrooms.

You let out a frustrated sigh as your back bounced against the wall, using it to prop yourself as you stared at Javi, arms folded over his chest and eyes wandering in anywhere but your direction.

"What the fuck is going on, Javi? And don't bullshit me and say that you don't know what I'm talking about because you clearly do." You demanded, nostrils flaring and fists clenched.

"Like I really need to fucking say it." Javi huffed, shaking his head with a sarcastic laugh.

"You don't, because you've made it very clear, but yeah, I'd like to hear you say it."

You could feel the heat seething through your veins as Javi chewed at the inside of his lip, trying to bide whatever time he could to keep from bruising his pride.

"Wow, I really cannot believe this. You're seriously that threatened by Frankie?" You scoffed, stunned that Javi couldn't bring himself to admit it.

"I'm not fuckin' threatened by him." He spit back, eyes peeled to the ground. "He's just way too fucking comfortable with you."

"Oh, you cannot be serious. Because I've known him forever and he's a nice guy? Jesus Christ, Javi."

"I've been watching the way he's been fucking looking at you since the moment he said hello to you. How he's talking to you, acting with you, it's like- Jesus, it's like he trying to-"

"What? Like he's trying to flirt with me? Like he likes me?" You questioned, raising your voice enough to finally get Javi to look at you, letting him feel the frustration you were engulfed in.

"Yes! Jesus fucking Christ, yes!" Javi groaned back, growing more heated by the second.

"And what if he was, Javi? What if he was trying to flirt with me? Do you really in your right mind think that I would ever, EVER pick him above you?" You asked, throwing up your hands in defeat, voice trembling as you fought back tears, "So what if he was? I'm yours, Javi, and I've got the fucking ring on my finger to prove it."

You and Javi stood in silence for a moment, watching each other's chests rise and fall on beat. You swear you can see it in his eyes, the way everything about Javi seems to shift, realizing how badly he'd fucked tonight up.

Before you can get in another word, you can see Javi's eyes lock on the single stall bathroom door that's swung open at the end of the hallway, looking once at you and once again at the bathroom. You weren't even able to protest before he had grabbed you by the hand, checking once over his shoulder before ushering you inside and locking the door behind him.

As the lock clicked, you could feel the heat in your cheeks burning, and not just with anger like they were a few moments ago. The dim light of the bathroom flickered over the shadowy figure of Javi's broad body until he had your back flushed against the sink, pinning you between the porcelain and him.

"Javi, what are you-"

Suddenly, Javi had one hand cradling the back of your head, the other wrapped around your hip as he craned his neck down to let his lips collide with yours.

The angry part of you wanted to push him off you, to berate him with your frustrations until he apologized for how childishly he had behaved tonight.

Every other part of you that was so turned on by the fact Javi was so worked up, he had no other choice than to fuck you in the bathroom to prove that you were his, couldn't have cared less about it.

"You're all fucking mine, you know that?" Javi growled, his words warm against your skin, muffled between messy kisses.

"I'm all yours, Javi." You moaned, fighting to let each word escape from your lips as your mouths became frantic, colliding with tongues and teeth.

Your breath hitched in the back of your throat as Javi's hands slid down your sides, fingers fumbling with the button and zipper on your jeans until he the denim and your underwear pooled around your ankles.

After your jeans had dropped to the ground, his hands were back on your sides, fingertips digging into your skin as he flipped you around, your stomach pressed against the countertop, ass flushed against his hips where you could feel the strain of his cock beneath his pants.

"No one else gets to have you like this. Gets to make you feel like I do." Javi groaned, your core aching at the clanking of his belt coming undone behind you, watching his brow furrow in concentration in the reflection from the mirror in front of you, "Do they, baby?"

"N-No." You whimpered, feeling him run his tip through your folds, collecting the slick that had already begun pooling between your thighs.

"You gonna let me fuck you right here in this bathroom, hermosa? Let everyone here know that you're mine?" Javi mewled, whispering into your ear as he buried his head in the crook of your neck.

"Mhmmmhh." You nodded, whining as Javi teased you with the head of his cock, prodding at your entrance, "Please."

Javi chuckled softly to himself, hearing you gasp as he filled you with every inch of him, hips pressed firmly against your ass. You could practically feel your eyes roll to the back of your head with how full he felt inside you, despite how easily you had taken him from how wet and worked up you were.

"Love this pussy so much, baby. Always so fucking wet and tight for me."

Your eyes opened as Javi began to thrust into you, startled by the already deliberate pace he was setting with each snap of his hips. Staring back at the mirror, you could see the smug smirk spreading between Javi's cheeks, knowing how quickly he could make you crumble.

Your hands shot back behind you, wrapping around Javi's stomach, trying to grab fist fulls of his shirt to brace yourself as he fucked into you. With the grip Javi had around your hips, you shouldn't have been worried about going anywhere, only about the marks that he'd leave in the pump flesh of your skin after he was finished.

"Oh fuck, Javi! Fuck, oh my godddd-" You moaned, all consumed by the feeling of his length sliding in and out of your cunt, perfectly pounding at your g-spot with every thrust.

You tried to let your head dip back, but before you could tilt it any further, one of Javi's hands had shifted, snaking up your front and wrapping around your jaw, forcing your gaze back in the mirror to meet his.

"Nuh uh, mi amor," he paused, gritting his teeth as he swore under his breath, trying to compose himself, "need to see you, Osita. Wanna see that pretty face when I make you cum and fuck you so fucking full of me, you're gonna feel me dripping out of you all night."

His words had seemed to spark something feral in the both of you, moaning his name as you backed your ass up further into him, taking everything that he had to give.

With your eyes locked in filthy glass reflection, Javi's hand slid back down your sides, smacking your ass before reaching around to your front, slotting himself between your thighs to find your clit, puffy and aching to be touched.

"Fuck, Javi! Feels so fucking good." You whined, the newfound pressure of his fingers against your clit causing the tingle building at the base of your spine to grow rapidly.

"Yeah? And who's the only one that gets to make you feel this good, baby?" Javi grunted, hips slapping against your ass, each thrust feeling harder and deeper than the last.

With the way Javi was fucking you, you felt lucky that your brain could manage to string together a coherent thought, let a lone a comprehendible sentence, your words heavy and breathless as you fought against the overwhelming sensation of your orgasm starting to creep through your body.

"You! It's- fuck- it's you Javi! Only you!" You sobbed, praying that the music and chatter of the bar was loud enough to drown out your volume.

"That's my girl." Javi devilishly grinned, feeling the way your cunt was clamping down around his cock, sensing how close you were to finishing, "Gotta cum first for me, hermosa. Fuckin' soak me before I cum so deep inside of you."

Javi began to circle your clit faster, putting just enough pressure on your sensitive bundle of nerves to push you over the edge, your vision going white as your orgasm began to crash through you.

"Fuck, Javi! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck-ahhhhh!"

You could feel how instantly limp your body had gone, so drunk on pleasure, that if Javi hadn't been behind you, holding you up, you were convinced you would have collapsed over the edge of the sink you were fucking on.

You knew Javi wasn't far behind you, his thrusts becoming sloppy and frantic as he chased his own high, desperate to make good on his promise to fill you with every last drop he had to give.

"That's it, baby. Fuck, I'm- mierda- I'm close. Gonna give you everything. Let everyone know who this pussy belongs to. Feels so fucking- fuck- so fucking good. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!"

With one last pump of his cock, Javi was spilling inside you, painting your walls with his spend, burying himself inside your cunt until he you had taken everything he had to give.

The warmth and wetness of your mixed arousal pooled where your bodies met, making a mess between your thighs as Javi began to pull out.

The both of you watched as your bodies rose and fell in the mirror, trying desperately to catch your breath in your post orgasmic haze. It wasn't long until your unhinged jaws were replaced with devious smirks, Javi grabbing you by the waist to flip him back towards him, pulling you to his chest as he kissed you.

"Damn, maybe I should make you jealous more often." You teased, biting down on your lip as you gave Javi a loving poke on his chest before reaching down to pull your pants back up your legs.

"Whatever." Javi sighed, playfully rolling his eyes at you as he did the same, looping his belt back through his jeans. He let out another deep breath, arms crossed over his chest as he looked up at you with a sheepish shrug, "I'm- fuck. I'm sorry about tonight. I was a dick."

"It's okay." You smiled, pressing up on your tiptoes to drape your arms around his neck, planting a soft kiss on his lips, "I love you. And only you. I don't think you could get rid of me, even if you tried. And I think that me letting you fuck me in this dirty ass bar bathroom proves that."

The two of you laughed, turning back to the mirror to readjust the sweaty mats of tangled hair and crinkled clothes in hopes of avoiding any suspicions when you made your way back to the table.

"I know. Still shouldn't have been an asshole about it." He shrugged, stepping behind you so that his chest was pressed against your back and arms were draped across your front, his mustache tickling your neck as he leaned in to whisper in your ear, "This was fucking hot, though."

"It was. Feel sorry for the next person who has to use this bathroom." You grimaced, hoping that you hadn't managed to leave a trace of the ways you had further disrespected the dingy restroom.

"You wanna head out first, or should I?" Javi asked, rocking you back and forth in his grasp, swaying you just enough to make you burst out into giggles.

"It's so late and I'm sure everyone here is hammered, we probably just could sneak out at the same time and no one would notice." You suggested, still drunk enough to not care enough about a proper escape plan.

After one last kiss and smack of your ass, Javi quickly cracked open the door, doing one swift scan before giving you the nod to note the coast was clear.

Javi grabbed you by the hand, looking back at you with a stupid smirk as the two of you left the bathroom, unsuspecting and assuming that you'd be able to make it down the hallway without any run ins.

Unfortunately, Javi hadn't noticed the body across the bar, making a B-line to the bathroom through the drunken crowd towards the bathrooms after his half-assed check.

Before any of you could process it, Javi collided with the other person, both people grunting and stumbling backwards, mumbling apologies as they collected themselves, until they locked eyes.

"Oh, uh- Sorry. Didn't uh- Didn't see you guys coming." Frankie stammered, looking back and forth between you and Javi and the bathroom you had just emerged from, quickly piecing the puzzle before him together.

"All good. See you, uh- see you back at the table." Javi winced, trying his best to keep from laughing as both your cheeks began to turn a bright shade of pink as you slid past Frankie.

"Looks like you may not end up being the only jealous one tonight, Jav."

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

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@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

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@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[haechanhues]

chapter forty two : the war is...

*written*

word count : 1k

warnings : erm.. Maybe cheesy dialogue idk i was listening to ‘iyo’ by darren espanto so if anything i was immersed.

You’re a complete mess, hair all a rat's nest pacing down the street, scratching at your arm as a distraction that the lady you pass protects her purse labelling you as nothing but a ‘crackhead’. 

You punch in your code, pulling at the door before it can even get a beep in. 

Your eyes flit around his clean kitchen, save for a couple of opened cans of beer on the bench before zeroing in on his suitcase sitting in the middle of the living room floor. With a momentary decision, you race towards his suitcase, getting a grip on the body and the handle awkwardly. 

“Y/N?” 

With only a quick glimpse at the boy in front of you fresh from a quick shower, before you rush out of his apartment with his suitcase in your hold. 

“Y/N!” 

You run and run, despite his cursing and his pleas for you to slow down and stop going ignored. Two things you are very against currently, but it feels like a hate crime when you find yourself at a dead end. Your turn hazardously, trapped as you look for a way out. 

“Y/N, what the fuck?” He’s exasperated, exhausted and pure sweat. Not an ounce of amusement. 

You breathe heavily. 

“You took my suitcase,” He states, a slight whistle in his breath. 

“Yes.” 

You stare at him, tears welling in your eyes. His hair is still somewhat wet, darker than usual. It sends your heart into overdrive. 

“Let me guess…” He raises his eyebrows, exhaling, “You thought ‘Oh Haechan must not need any peace today, let’s make him fucking run after he just showered!’ Yeah I like your idea, really.” 

And you stare some more, unwilling to let him leave your sight, your grip on the suitcase tightening until the strain turns your wrist bloodless, “You can’t leave.” 

What?

You must be delirious. 

Absolutely mental. 

“You can’t just tell me what to do,” He chastises to which you shake your head like a scolded kid getting the biggest verbal lashing of your life. And yet, despite that you hold firm. 

He observes your expression with an inquisitive look that rivals Sherlock Holmes. Pausing at what he finds. 

“You told me you hated me,” He murmurs bewildered, “And I acce-” 

“- I didn’t mean it,” You interrupt him, “I don’t want you to leave.” 

He huffs out a laugh without humour, “You sounded pretty convincing, Y/N.” 

“You know I didn’t mean it,” You repeat. 

“Maybe. But nothing you told me afterwards proved otherwise, so why not take that as truth?” 

“I’m scared of you, but I don’t hate you,” You confess, “I could never hate you.” 

He swallows before he looks away, finding it difficult to look you in the eye at the confession. 

“Call me typical, call me frustrating,” You enunciate, “But I feel differently for you. We promised it was just sex and I know there was no contract or whatever. And then you…did what you did.” 

“Admitted my feelings,” He’s straight-faced, blatant with his truth. 

“And I hated it,” You scoff, “But I also hated that I loved it more. The first thing I saw was our memories and how I felt something I’ve never felt before. And then….made you feel less than worth it.” 

Projected. 

“And I’ve got no sob story at all.. It just got out of hand with my pride and everything. And I realise I didn’t do anything to calm the fact that your jealousy wasn’t just jealousy but insecurity and I took it as a joke.” 

“Hm,” He mutters, kicking the ground with his feet, tongue rolling in his mouth. 

“But you’re not one,” The need to victimise yourself is pressed down by your gritted teeth, “You’re not anything like that to me. You’re….a whole meaning entirely.” 

You swallow the clog in your throat to no avail. 

“You’re the only Haechan I have,” You croak but you refuse to coddle him with your tears, sway him with your emotions. 

For him to forgive you, you want him to make the decision himself. 

“And you’re the only Haechan I want…” You take a brief look at him, finding nothing to reassure you, “God…you’re the only one I want to see some mornings and that is something to me.” 

It’s silent, but you think it’s because you physically can’t hear anymore. Unable to focus on anything but him. He makes an action to check his phone. 

“Who told you I was leaving?” Haechan asked. 

“Chenle,” You admit quietly. 

“Huh….” Haechan smirks, turning his phone to you, revealing the words you want to give tribute to when you get caught for your crime of passion. Sent long before you got to Haechan’s apartment. 

I’ll get you your apology. 

You feel your stomach flip inside your body, the realisation catching up to you. 

“That fucking-” You make an attempt to snatch his phone before making the effort to storm back to Haechan’s apartment. 

You hear a snort of laughter before Haechan’s arms wrap around your waist to stop you, his warmth immediately calming you. He sees the way your muscles relax and the way you inhale him. 

“I for one am glad,” Haechan laughs, “…that was one good speech.” 

You exhale, turning away from his focus in embarrassment. 

“Thanks.” 

He rewards you with a smile that could cure all that’s wrong in the world. But doesn’t say anything else and although it slightly disappoints you and doesn’t do anything to reassure you, it’s enough for now. 

He gives you his phone, equipping you with the power to lay into Chenle through text, who is confused as to why Haechan is so fucking angry with him, before feeling smug when its made obvious that it’s not Haechan. 

But you. 

He sits you down, gives you a cup of steaming hot chocolate. You bring up the hot chocolate scene from Polar Express. He laughs. But doesn’t say much else. 

You talk and talk. 

He draws pictures on your exposed arm with his fingers, watching the way you squirm under his feather-like touch. Loves the way you giggle and continue talking. 

You’ve missed this. 

Him, most of all. 

And you don’t even need to remotely kiss to certify what you feel for him. 

And him? He hasn’t needed to for the longest time.

AND NOW, US

your best friend's best friend offers his services as you keep complaining about your lack of… sexual gratification.

chapter forty two : the war is...

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[kelpermoosee]

Knocking them over and watching them scramble to get up with those big ass heads

[astronoodle]

In fairness, it's not an idea that comes from nowhere. It's pretty observable, depending on your culture. There are a lot of people who not only drop hobbies, but also friendships, extended family relationships, and even commitments in their community once they're in a romantic relationship--particularly if it's long term and becomes one where life plans are made jointly.

I don't think this is a great aspect of our culture, tbh.

But it's also not necessarily an unrealistic or self-centered expectation if it's the norm you see all around you. Especially if one person in the relationship *does* end up sacrificing their own hobbies, friendships, and potentially also their creative or career goals in order to devote more time to nurture the relationship with someone they love, and the other partner... doesn't.

Like, I know way too many people who are in a relationship where their partners actually couldn't destroy their hobby stuff (be it makeup or art supplies or what have you), because they no longer have hobby stuff.

They stopped buying art supplies because they don't have time to make art anymore. All their time is spent working overtime to afford a family home, doing domestic chores to keep the household comfortable and safe, and planning and executing different strategies to show their partner they love them in the partner's "love language" (or w/e romance trend they think is best).

And their partner...isn't doing that. Their partner is not working overtime, maybe not even full time, nor pursuing some path to a more financially stable career. Their partner is not doing 50% of the chores necessary to live in a comfortable, safe environment. Their partner certainly isn't regularly planning out ways to show they love them through thoughtful romantic gestures or gifts or anything particularly personal.

Their partner isn't actually spending the time it takes to be a good partner. They're spending their time...playing video games. Hanging out with friends. Participating in their social scene.

And when the individual asks for their partner to let them have that same freedom--for their partner to, say, pick up more hours at work, so they can work a bit less and have time to paint again, or to take over more household chores so they have free time to rekindle their own friendships--their partner says no.

They say it's mean to even ask. It's damaging to their spirit.

And yeah, obviously, the thing to do then is break up and grieve the relationship. Not break someone's stuff.

But it's not actually wrong or bad to want to be in a partnership where everyone gets their needs met and both people make sacrifices for one another sometimes.

If you sacrificed 100% of your hobbies and friendships, and your partner sacrificed zero for you, that's not ok. You gotta get out. "Video games" is a red herring. It's the inequality that's the problem.

If someone wants you to sacrifice everything by default, and literally does not sacrifice even a smidgen of hobby time for you, they do not love you. Actions speak louder than words. People who love each other work together to distribute labor in a way that feels good for both, and make decisions to prioritize each other in a way that gets everyone's needs met and keeps everyone safe.

If you haven't painted in over a year for his sake, for the sake of your relationship, and he plays videogames or, I don't know, plays basketball or crochets every day? And he genuinely doesn't seem to care that you haven't painted in a year because you have no time, yet you had time before you were together?

Dump. Him.

He doesn't love you. Love is an action.

Grieve and start painting again.

Maybe stop dating in general if you feel the need to break things your partners enjoy

[gliphyartfan]

Do you know Dr. Stone? If so, can I have the Chain with a fem human reader who is like Senku? The reader takes advantage of being in Hyrule to do research on the different species that exist there and does experiments or machines that the Chain doesn't know about and using the Chain as guinea pigs to learn more about the biology of the Hylians.

I am…SOMEWHAT familiar with Dr.Stone? Not enough to be part of the fandom, I just know a vague gist, but a crazy scientist reader shouldn’t be too hard to figure out ! (Has to give the wiki a quick scan tho…😅)

——————

Let’s face it, Reader is a menace. A lovable menace, sure, but a menace nonetheless. They had too many ideas, too much knowledge, and zero fear of experimenting on the people around them.

The Chain quickly realized that you weren’t JUST curious about Hyrule’s different species, you were curious about EVERYTHING. Every village you passed through was a new research opportunity.

Gorons? Reader poked at their rocky skin, tested their body heat, and theorized why they could survive on a diet of literal rocks. Zoras? Reader studied their scales, their gills, even how their body structure compared to fish. Rito?

They nearly plucked a feather off a passing child before Twilight stopped them.

Reader: ”For SCIENCE, Twi! You don’t understand.”

Twilight: ”Only thing I understand is that you’re about to get your ass kicked by an entire flock of angry Rito parents.”

But the real problem?

The Chain was their easiest test subjects.

Hylian biology wasn’t anything too different from what they already knew, but they still had so many questions.

Why were some Hylians taller than others? Were their ears actually good at hearing? How different was their anatomy from a normal human?

Reader poked, prodded, and took notes on everything. They even tried to draw their anatomy from what they could figure out. (Sky was so red when he saw the diagrams, Legend smacked them over the head, and Hyrule just turned and walked away.)

Reader’s biggest victim? Wild.

Why?

Because he lets them.

Reader “Hey, Wild, can I take a sample of your hair?”

Wild: “Sure, do you need a chunk or just a few strands?”

Wild: “What about a small blood sample? Nothing major, just a few drops.”

Wild: “Eh, why not.”

Twilight stopped them from collecting his spit.

Reader: “IT’S FOR A PH TEST, YOU COUNTRY BUMPKIN.”

Twilight: “WHAT EVEN IS THAT?!? YOU DON’T NEED TO KNOW THE pH OF HIS SPIT, WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU.”

Reader took advantage of the fantasy setting to its fullest. Hyrule had magic, unexplainable creatures, literal deities, and they were going to study all of it.

When they realized that the Sheikah Slate had materials and blueprints from an advanced civilization, Wild barely had time to react before they yanked it from his hands. It took a whole week for him to get it back.

Wild: Reader, give me my Slate.

Reader: “I am doing RESEARCH.”

Wild: “IT’S MINE.”

Reader also invented shit.

Without modern resources, they had to get creative. Thwy used the environment, Wild’s cooking materials, and whatever spare parts the Chain had to make weapons, tools, even small gadgets.

The first time they made a small explosive, Time nearly had an aneurysm.

Time: “NO MORE BLOWING THINGS UP.”

Reader: “It’s for DEFENSE, OLD MAN.”

Warriors was their second biggest victim.Why? Because they used him as a guinea pig for their “hybrid energy” experiments.

Reader: “Okay, so technically, Hylian magic is a force field of energy produced from within, right? So, theoretically, if I adjust the angle and density of my conductive rods, I should be able to create an artificial current—”

Warriors, exasperated but curious: “Reader, are you trying to electrocute me?”

Reader: “It’s FOR SCIENCE, CAPTAIN.”

Legend was your biggest hater.

A few things the vet has said to them:

“Oh, great, what’s the lunatic trying to build now?”

“Reader, if you explode something again, I’m throwing you in the nearest lake.”

“STAY AWAY FROM ME WITH THAT NEEDLE.”

(To name a few)

But the moment he got injured, Reader was the first person he went to because their medicine worked better than potions and elixirs at times.

“Shut up,” he muttered as Reader smirked at him. “You’re the only one with antibiotics.”

“Oh? So you need me?”

“I WILL STAB YOU.”

They once started a fire in the middle of camp just to see how different types of wood burned.

Time banned them from touching firewood for a month.

Overall?

The Chain loved them, but they were a constant headache.

Reader was the only person who wanted to be in Hyrule for the sake of research, and even though their experiments terrified them, they couldn’t help but admire their genius.

Even if it meant they had to keep a close eye on them before they accidentally (re)invented nuclear warfare.

(Moment Wild mentioned Purah’s antics, the chain were horrified at the inevitable possibility of what the both of them would do together. So they drive to keep Reader as far from Purah as possible. It’s inevitable tho so..:sucks for them 😆)

[sleepyorchidmonster]

Okay, but what if Riddle attempts to fight Malleus alone to buy Idia some time?

Like, we know Riddle is both reckless and confident in his power, also, if timed correctly, Off With Your Head can be make a difference in a fight, and even Leona was having trouble with it (granted it was normal not-overblotted Leona and this is Malleus we're talking about).

It can also play with the reveal that Riddle thinks everyone hates him, so he convinces himself that the least he could do is make sure Idia stays safe, both for the mission and Ortho (and maybe he's feeling guilty because last he checked Ortho required urgent repairs and it's his fault). Or maybe Riddle just feels like his lack of understanding of technomancy is not being helpful enough andhe is eager to actually do something right (he doesn't understand the situation and, as far as he can tell, everything went wrong after his dream).

And then Idia has to stop his doomed typing with a side of panicked ramblings to take a deep breath and tell the 17-year-old kid to "Calm Down. We're not dead yet, and I'm not letting you go on a suicide mission."

And before Riddle can make a counter-argument, Idia is already following up with some extra points:

1) "Yeah we're both housewardens and troublemaking SSRs. I'm also older so I'm supposed to be the responsible one here."

2) "Technomancy is my domain, so if I say you're doing okay, you're doing okay. It's natural for veteran players to carry the noobs when they're just starting out!"

3) "You're a powerful DPS, but you're also a glass canon. Meta dictates that good DPS units need great supports, and I'm trying to summon them with negative gacha pulls and a dream here!!!!"

4) "If we open the door to let you fight Malleus, then the door will have been opened anyway, and that guy can multitask like a PRO..."

5) "You know chess right? Great. We're currently in check, with the only thing between total anihilation being a Rook (A.K.A. my precious door) and the Queen (A.K.A. you). The lil' pawns may have metamorphosized into a murderous army, but there's still a whole board between us, so we have to hold on!!!"

6) "And before you get the chess analogy wrong, I am NOT keeping you around just because of your magical power. You're a TEENAGER not a weapon, for crying out loud. Did you really think I'd be that stupid?? Ortho is literally my brother and I'd rather DIE than treat him like a weapon!"

7) "Is it really that hard to understand that I don't actually hate you? Sure, you have zero E.Q. and is in my "Top 5 Most annoying Students in NRC", but I don't want you dead! Who would drag me to dormhead meetings then? Vil and Ortho need a buddy who's not afraid to break the doo- NOT NOW MALLEUS"

8) "I actually like being alive and don't want Trey and Cater to kill me, and neither that freaky cat friend of yours. Or Floyd, Kalim, Sebek, Silver, Vil..."

Idia: And that would be all! Thank you for coming to my TED Talk! Now, I know the Final Boss is right outside that door, but why don't you read a manga or two to pass the time? You've already helped me A LOT, so why don't you rest a bit?

Malleus, from the other side: You should listen to Shroud, Rosehearts. I will even refrain from tearing the door down while you read, rest assured!

Malleus: Also, who gave you the idea that everyone hates you? I just want to have a pleasant chat with them! Lillia taught me the importance of understanding the point of view of others! :)

Meanwhile the others are trying to use Meet Me in a Dream while driving a gigantic Blastcycle so they can speedrun the dream hopping and get back to Idia's dream so they can make sure Idia is okay (Ortho), complete the final stage of the plan (the others) and locate Riddle (Heartslabyul and Equestrian Club mostly, but everyone's at least worried that he's MIA). Also Silver is resting while Ace uses his UM and Deuce drives.

Leona got what he wanted (a better mean of transportation between dreams) but at what cost (two freshmen at the wheel, and they're not the competent robot kid).

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

how dar u ignore my ask 😭

Going to assume these may have come from the same individual 💦

Allow me to direct you to what is clearly stated in my ask and writing request rules:

I have a life outside of this blog, and even just managing to reply to a few asks a day—especially if they are very research intensive—can take me a while. To give you an idea of what that look like (although keep in mind that these numbers are somewhat inflated by hundreds of creative writing WIPs and writing requests I have yet to get to):

There could also be other reasons why I’m not answering a certain ask. Maybe it’s already answered and queued to post. Maybe the ask made me uncomfortable or broke a blog rule in some manner. Maybe it’s a repeat ask or something I’ve already answered in the past (you should try searching my blog first) or in my pinned post. Maybe I’m taking my sweet time so I can come up with a mindful answer or to conduct research. Maybe the ask is unnecessarily aggressive or rude. Maybe I don’t understand what you’re asking. Maybe the ask is lacking in details. Maybe the ask isn’t transformative and just states the obvious, so there’s nothing meaningful for me to comment on. Maybe you mentioned a hyperspecific media that I have zero knowledge of and I don’t want to look into it. Maybe I forgot to look at the asks for a while or it got buried under other ones. Maybe I don’t have the time to get to it right now.

Honestly, maybe it’s as simple as “I’m not interested in replying”. Again, I’m not obligated to respond to anything I receive. Please keep this in mind and be mindful of the ask etiquette.

If you genuinely think me not responding is a personal attack on you and you specifically, then that’s an unhealthy parasocial belief on your part. It’s not the responsibility of any internet stranger (whether myself or others) to cater to anyone’s demands for interaction.

That’s all I’m going to say on the matter, and it’s going to be the only time I address this.

[pomrania]

Beta pass! First I'll be reading the whole thing through and jotting down page numbers of stuff to take a second look at, then I'll go back to those pages and see if there's anything I need to say about them. Because I remembered how good it felt when I discovered that method (it works really well!) so I wanted to share it.

…you know, I've never actually asked: how many figures are there on the cover? Is the Fizzgig-looking one a separate character, or a symbiote of the one on the left? And I've also just realized an that character has at least three arms; I don't know HOW that's slipped by me for so long.

Huh, there's bits where I can definitely tell that you rephrased it from previous versions; generally I prefer how it had been, but "getting the meaning across clearly" and "having it be able to fit in the space available" outweighs a witty turn of phrase.

Something that occurs throughout, I believe: the thing about "you can find these [cards] in your download package if you obtained this game digitally, or on the Penguin King Games website". Individually, each instance makes sense that it's written out in full. Put together, it feels kind of odd, like why is that repeated. (There's other things that are repeated in full, but they're rules elements where "being able to find relevant information to what you're looking up" is more important than "artistic flow when you read the whole thing straight through", so I don't consider those to be a potential issue.) My suggestion would be to have it written out in full in the "what you'll need" section, while other instances of it to just refer to the cards, maybe giving the page number. If you make/made a conscious decision that you do indeed want that written out in full, in all instances, then I'll respect that, because you have enough experience in the field that if so then it's probably the best idea.

((So I wrote this all with page numbers listed, but then when I tried copy-pasting it into here, it decided to treat the whole thing as a sequential numbered list, so I'm having to put in the proper numbers manually; if something seems like it's referring to the wrong page, then it's because of that.))

2. "Random selection table" is listed as being on page zero.

6. In the third paragraph, the "optionally" just feels weird as something starting the sentence. Maybe move it to elsewhere in the sentence? I'm also not sure about the paragraph arrangement, like if the thing about a deck of cards should come before or after the thing about the print-and-play cards; it's not WRONG, but it could stand to be looked at some more for considering what the ideal flow is.

10. In the second paragraph, the phrasing "able to bring to bear, or tag, on a test" is mildly grammatically ambiguous; "tag" could replace "bring to bear" (as it actually means), or it could replace "bear" leading to "bring to tag". My preference would be for it to be rephrased, but it's not a major issue or anything. In the third paragraph, "afforances" is presumably a typo. In the shaded box, "descripition" is a typo.

14. "Cunning crafter", "centring" just looks weird to me, like it would be "cent-ring" instead of the "centre-ing" it actually is. If it doesn't look weird to you, then I guess it's okay; otherwise, consider what other words/phrases might work instead.

16. "Extra organs", the "always" effect: I'm assuming that you HAVE to make up an organ to say why you're immune to it, and you're not just "generically immune to environmental effects"? So it's up to the player to be on top of that. And the "with effort" thing for it, that's also an exception to the rules against doing multiple effortful things at once?

17. "Flowing form", if I recall correctly this isn't intended to work as a disguise unless you get creative with your in-'verse excuses, yeah? "Fluttering flight", it feels weird that the link is on "six on"; like, it should include the "take". Maybe also put the page number before the "on", but I hadn't been paying attention to how you'd formatted that in other instances, so I don't know if there's something established or not.

18. "Hearty humours", the description says "drawbacks" but I can't see any in the rest of that entry, unless you count "not being able to tag it for the rest of the scene after you've used its effortful use", but that isn't listed as a drawback for the OTHER forms which have something like that. "Hundred-handed", in at least one other instance later on, the "handed" is capitalized, but it's not capitalized here (or in the "random forms" table). One of those should be changed for consistency.

20. "Menacing missiles", so I assume that if being very accurate is important, then that calls for a test? But just hitting a medium-sized target, when neither it nor you are moving and nobody's trying to interfere, would be an automatic thing. "Mighty muscles", it refers to "striking stature (puny)" and vice versa, but they might need to be looked at together, to make sure that the multiplier on lifting capacity doesn't get applied twice; or more accurately, that it's very obvious that it should NOT get applied twice. "Mobile members", does the "always" effect mean you can act through your main body AND a detached member at the same time, or only one at a time?

21. "Peculiar poise", the "with effort" use, so I'm assuming that it gives you a few seconds of leeway with the GM's description, but once they've described someone's action AND the results of that action, it's now too late to interrupt?

23. "Striking stature", so being Puny doesn't reduce your lifting capacity but it divides your weight by ten, and I'm actually looking back at "mighty muscles"… okay, I see, that one doesn't increase your "lifting capacity" per se but rather sets it at "X times your weight". They do NOT in fact have an unfortunate interaction with each other; but they SEEMED like they do, when the text isn't directly compared. So this would fall under "potentially rephrase to make it EASIER to know what the answer is", but it's still functional as-is. "Vague visage", I'm trying to think of actions you COULD perform while doing its effortful use… that'd be stuff that doesn't involve acting on parts of your environment that you can't carry with you, so you could read a book, or doodle something, but you can't sketch your surroundings because that relies on your being "somewhere in particular" (unless the view is the same from anywhere). And I remember that this Form doesn't allow quantum teleportation without a high-calamity-threshold test; but while staying WITHIN the "somewhere around here", where do you end up when the effort is no longer sustained? Specifically, if it gets dropped involuntarily.

25. This still doesn't feel like "inventing new Forms", or at least, not with its current set-up. You have "the easiest way" which is reskinning things, and then in a shaded box there's something about a concept being represented by multiple Forms. Those both feel like side-things to an actual "how to invent a new Form", because saying "the easiest way" implies that there's a less-easy way, and a shaded box has generally been used for clarification or edge cases. If "how to invent new Forms" isn't something you want to write and/or you feel it wouldn't benefit the game, I'd recommend rephrasing things (possibly including the section title) to make it clear that these are the available options if you don't like the Forms as described. (Also, "hundred-handed", with the "handed" being lowercase, is here, if you decide to go with it being uppercase.)

27. "Hundred-handed" has the "handed" as uppercase here, if you decide to go with it being lowercase.

36. "Art of abundance", can the "summon more copies of yourself while sustaining the Art" only be done once, or can it be done as often as you can pay for it? "Art of alteration", I see you've changed the "forced to end it" thing from "being verbally called out" to "someone speaks your true name aloud". Does that mean "if they say it anywhere in the world", or does it have to be in the vicinity? Plus, that would mean that with what rules we have so far, it could only be done by other party members, which… MIGHT be the intended gameplay, but it doesn't match my albeit extremely vague and distant memories of the relevant cartoons.

37. "Art of autonomy", no problems here, just want to comment that I REALLY wish I had this, since later on today I'm walking somewhere and I can't rely on anyone having plowed or shovelled the sidewalks on the way. "Art of exposition", the bullet points (arrow points?) feel like they're just the sentences from a paragraph put on a new line each. EXTREMELY low-priority, since it clearly conveys all the necessary information, but it can be made to feel a bit better with the format it's in.

38. "Art of guising", so if a role is held by a specific person and it doesn't make you look like that person, then if somebody knows who that person would be… I'm not sure which option is funnier, "I hadn't realized we got a new [role]" or "huh the [role] looks different today". I'm assuming that if someone has a personal connection to the [role] then Shenanigans would ensue. "Art of indulgence", typo, "or the part of to be eaten". If it's not a typo and it's actually a valid construction, then I'd suggest that it be rephrased, because it FEELS like a word got dropped there. …Also, I'm assuming that this doesn't count as "removing Stress by eating something", except in VERY niche cases. "Art of iteration", can it be activated multiple times for the same outcome? Like, you activate it once, get a new result; decide you don't like that new result, then activate it a second time.

39. "Art of keeping", I'd suggest moving the "later" from the start of the sentence, to fit better as part of a bullet point. "Art of making", another instance of "bullet-point division doesn't feel quite right". Very minor issue. "Art of miscellany", does "item in another character's inventory slot" count as "held" or "worn/carried"?

40. "Art of negation", for an ongoing effect where the Art must be sustained, it's possible to act (or have others act) in such a way to end up somewhere that it's no longer an ongoing effect, yeah? And I'm assuming that if it gets dropped when the situation is still there, that you'd then immediately take the Stress you would have earlier. "Art of realization", I wouldn't say that a STATUE counts as a "visual depiction"; like, "a sword in a statue's hand" isn't a real sword, but it's still a physical (sword-shaped) object. Maybe change it to "artistic depictions"?

41. "Art of transition", I just realized; the "sustain" effect isn't just to chain leaps together to go farther, it could also be used to briefly check (as in "take a glance around" not "search the area") a bunch of unoccupied rooms behind closed doors… and I just realized that it doesn't include stuff on what counts as a valid destination any more. "Art of ubiquity", oh I LIKE the change you made to the last point of it, how a creature can react to your action as though you were at Touch range; it's more elegant than the previous thing, AND it neatly suggests potential (direct!) consequences.

48. The "maximum five dice" thing still confuses me. If your intent is that no roll should EVER have more than five dice, I'd suggest putting that BEFORE "you get an extra dice for each Trait you tag", since otherwise it feels like a) when using Traits you're limited to five dice, but Obstinacy and pushing your luck can give you more than that, and/or b) you can get up to five dice from "tagging Traits", which are then added to the "starting" dice to result in SIX dice.

57. Typo in the second paragraph, "quanities of food". Also, I don't believe an that meaning of "atomic" (as "indivisible") is commonly understood; I like how it's used, and it can be figured out from context, but it's up to you to decide if you think it's sufficiently clear.

59. In the shaded box, typo, "eligible perform a reversal" is missing a "to". Also, NOW it's clear what kind of circumstance there'd be where "participating in a test even if there's the maximum amount of Traits added" would be beneficial; genuinely uncertain if that should be mentioned alongside 'cooperative tests', you're the expert when it comes to writing this stuff.

62. Typo in the first paragraph, "immeditiately".

63. Typo in the shaded box, "conjuction".

67. I really appreciate the stuff in the shaded box, about how it's "swapping out Forms" because that's what makes it easier to play. Plus, "trying to figure out which Form/s would best represent the Shenanigans that happened upon the character" is good enrichment.

79. For 11+, when it says "probably shouldn't require a test", my thought was that it should mention "taking six" on a roll.

81. In the first paragraph, "impact penalty for that would normally be suffered" feels like it's either missing a word or contains an extraneous word.

85. Typo in the shaded box, "explicity".

87. Typo in the last paragraph, "inflcit".

88. Ooh I like that thing about ganging up on NPCs, it makes so much SENSE for this game. Third paragraph, I'm genuinely not sure if there IS an HTML version of the current document; I'm reading it from the pdf, since the other relevant option was an epub file. (Also, another instance of the full text about print-and-play cards.)

102. Typo for the first word, actually, "Ths". So, it makes sense that a particular Gizmo has to be rolled for, if it's part of your starting inventory, since some of them are of more obvious use than others. But do you have to roll for ALL your starting inventory if you include a slot or two for Gizmo, or only what Gizmo is in that slot?

120. The note here made me grin.

122. Calling something "Western fantasy" raises the question of whether "EASTERN fantasy" will be a future table. Also, what other kinds of settings there could be… I've recently read the Murderbot books, and I think a lot of the corporate-run stations and planets there could ABSOLUTELY be improved by a bunch of God-eaters running around.

Not specific to any page, but something I realized I should prolly mention. Impact modifiers. When they're listed as "+1" or "+2", it FEELS like they should be additive with each other. (Most often it was seen in the playset stuff, like "XYZ approach has a +2 impact modifier in this situation" feels like that +2 is "in addition to" and not "instead of".) My thought is maybe renaming them to "tier one/two/three positive/negative"; this would add a layer of distance between "what it is" and "what it does", which would be a benefit for "not getting it confused with direct modifiers of the kind encountered in other games most notably D&D", but a detriment for "remembering what it actually does to the roll". Plus all the hassle which goes along with changing something. You're better equipped to make any judgement on the issue; it's just something an I had to raise.

Eat God playtest draft 0.5.0 is now available

Version 0.5.0 of Eat God brings several major changes, foremost among them a full rewrite of the Forms and Rebellious Arts, in a more structured and (hopefully!) more readable format than the previous wall-of-text presentation. This update also includes print-and-play cards (and corresponding VTT resources) for all Forms, Arts, and playset NPCs and locations. A full list of updates is available here, or under the cut below:

Download package now includes print-and-play cards for all Forms, Rebellious Arts, and playset and NPC locations

Revised introduction to provide a link to the new Form, Art, and playset cards

Expanded discussion of the mechanical effect of Traits

Forms and Rebellious Arts are now numerically indexed in their descriptions as well as in their lookup tables

One additional Form (bringing the total up to a full 36 for the first time!), and a full rewrite of all existing Forms

Full rewrite of all existing Rebellious Arts

Added discussion of how to handle resisting Stress when multiple God-eaters are affected by the same threat simultaneously

Small clarifications to activation timing for Rebellious Arts and what it means to "activate an Art in conjunction with a test"

Greatly expanded discussion of how to adjudicate Limit Breaks

Reformatted examples of Limit Break effects and added a few more examples

Random inventory table slightly revised to make its implicit milieu more consistent, and moved from the Inventory section to a separate appendix in preparation for adding multiple random inventory tables for different milieux

"Effect modifiers" renamed "impact modifiers" to avoid ambiguity with other uses of the word "effect"; relevant terminology throughout document revised accordingly

Simplified rules for how Forms influence impact penalties (formerly effect penalties)

Added first-pass rules for imposing temporary Traits upon NPCs

Added discussion of how cooperative tests work in the context of multiple God-eaters ganging up on a single NPC

Reformatted playset location/NPC/calamity tables for better readability

Added "Appendix B: Additional Tables"; right now this just contains the relocated starting inventory table (see above)

[insanityclause]

It is one hell of a moment. Delivering what I think (in gym terms) is known as a low lunge, with one straight leg, one knee millimetres from the ground, and the other at 90 degrees, Hiddleston unbuttons the top two fastenings of his formal dress shirt.

Cries go out from the audience. He then gracefully stands up, with his back to the audience. We cannot see but he is unbuttoning his shirt. Then, he turns to fully face the auditorium. I probably should say that he is speaking blank verse throughout.

The shirt is fully open, revealing a sculpted stomach and torso one only thought existed in Mr Universe competitions, or on Action Man dolls. Cue general hysteria from over 2,100 people on all four tiers, including boxes, of the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane.

What did you say? Take my shirt off?

Welcome to Much Ado About Nothing, the Millennial version.

It is such fun! That’s the first thing. One walks into the beautiful gilded auditorium to encounter grooving ushers dancing around waving signs saying “Turn Your Phones Off”, in time to Nineties pop anthems.

Outside, huge posters have Tom Hiddleston’s name above that of Shakespeare. But of course. Thanks to his recurring role as Marvel’s naughty trickster Loki, Hiddleston is a fully fledged Hollywood star. Yes, I know he cut his teeth at RADA and played Coriolanus at the National Theatre. But THIS IS LOKI. Transported in some miraculous way to Benedick, in Much Ado About Nothing and what’s more, taking his shirt off eight times a week in central London.

The rest of the cast are no mean assemblage; his sparring partner Beatrice is played by another Marvel personality, Hayley Atwell. Stage stalwarts such as Forbes Masson, a pitch perfect Leonato, Gerald Kyd and the wonderful Tim Steed all ensure this is a company show, sort of. That is if you discount the viewpoint of the entire audience, which is at Drury Lane for one reason and one reason only. LOKI.

I include myself in this. My youngest son, now 20, and I are serious Marvel fans. We’ve seen ‘em all, usually on the first weekend possible. Iron Man (various versions), Thor (ditto), Ant Man, etc. We’ve cried at Avengers Infinity War, cheered at Stan Lee’s cameos, bigged up Spiderman. We’ve watched the TV spinoffs. We always stay for the minute after the credits roll (where the next Marvel film is promoted, usually with some huge personage playing a baddie such as Samuel L Jackson, or Robert Redford). We have even kept going to the films when they went off the boil.

Naturally, we were going to see Hiddleston in Shakespeare. Naturally, Lucien had no idea what Much Ado About Nothing was. If a young person hasn’t done a ‘Spear for an exam, they don’t know it.

Just think of this poster, I usefully told him on the way to the theatre. See below.

On arrival at the theatre, I knew we were in the grip of a ‘moment’. “It’s a great show!” said the lady checking our tickets. “It’s had great reviews.” Ah, Madam, that is where you are wrong. It hasn’t had any reviews, in the formal sense. It hasn’t had a press night. It doesn’t need one.

Unlike Jamie Lloyd’s previous “Shakespeare-at-Drury-Lane-with-a-Hollywood-name”, namely The Tempest with Sigourney Weaver as Prospero, this show has confidence. It has buoyancy. It has HUGE hit written all over it, with or without the reviews.

And lo, the curtain rises. Zero set. Loads of cherry blossom everywhere. Will there be applause when Hiddleston arrives? Are you completely bonkers? The whole audience goes insane. I am probably the oldest person in the house, and that is the point. I have honestly never seen a younger, more diverse, more focused crowd at a Shakespeare production in the West End. And possibly a more excited one. They are here to have a good time. We are all here to have a good time. Every time Hiddleston opens his mouth, cheers. Every time he winks at the audience, whoops. Every time he points at an excited person in the stalls, said person faints.

Lloyd understands his audience. There are disco bangers (Groovers in the House is one) throughout this show. Every time, the whole cast start dancing, rather brilliantly. Hiddleston, throwing shapes! Who knew? There is even a moment of pure meta-theatricals where lifesize, cardboard cutouts of Atwell and Hiddleston’s Marvel characters are used as props. An actual image of Loki, in a Shakespeare play. The actress playing Hero, holding the cutout, points to his groin. The audience cheers wildly. It’s a cutout, everyone!

Characters in the play who do not really push forward the action, such as the unfunny Dogberry, have simply been excised by Lloyd. Interestingly, there is a whole section in the programme devoted towards clowning, in particular about the Elizabethan actor who played Dogberry in the original production, which makes me think this was perhaps a last minute decision. It’s a good one, however. The play spins along with no longeurs. We are in the hands of professionals.

Two observations; as the cast took its bow, and invited the whole audience to join in with disco moves, which it did without a second’s hesitation, my son said to me “That was great! It was so easy to understand!”

Secondly, as we left the theatre there was a queue of monumental proportions snaking around outside the building. This was the queue for the Stage Door.

I have been looking (again) at Culture Is Bad For You, by Brook, O’Brien and Taylor. This book crunches a lot of data to analyse who is going to British culture and why it is so unequal, both in terms of employees and in terms of audiences.

One of the main points it raises is that cultural consumption in the UK is a minority event. That there is “a disconnection between cultural production, cultural consumption and whole swathes of the population.”

The Jamie Lloyd project at the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane does not knock this idea down, but disregards it. The production is an outlier. It is a triumphant, and reasonably (but not wildly) expensive, delivery of ‘high’ art via popular culture to an audience who don’t normally feel included in the art world. Yes, we are lucky to have a player as Hiddleston, who can do both popular and rarified (while taking his shirt off), but it is a simple formula which producers across the theatre landscape, particularly ones which use public money, ought to take note of.

What a night!

[apoloadonisandnarcissus]

I actually blame the marketing campaign of “Nosferatu” (2024) for many of these bad takes. When you reach the truth behind this story you can see what bullshit this “possessed Ellen by Orlok” is. I don’t know who came up with this idea, but it’s deceiving the audience. Robert Eggers also doesn't talk about any of this in his own interviews. Orlok doesn’t possess Ellen like a demon, he doesn’t have that kind of power as a strigoi (not unless he has fed on his victims, like he did with Thomas, because he feeds off souls). Those “hysteric fits” are all on her, he only talks to her telepathically, inside of her head, and the film establishes this when you take the time to analyze it.

And the whole point of “Ellen’s possession scene” is her figure this out, when she tries to conjure him without sexual energy and he doesn’t an appearance; it’s not him possessing her, it’s all on herself, and she has been summoning him this entire time. That’s why she says “I’m unclean!” This scene was even marketed as “visit from a vampire” and that’s pure bullshit, too. Orlok is not in that scene; there’s zero visual or sound indication of this; he only appears as a shadow at the window later when Thomas is already asleep. I know that the “online script” says Orlok’s shadow passes through the room but not only that’s not in the actual scene, but the film itself declares that’s impossible because Orlok does not have entrance into this house, Ellen only gives him invitation at the end, by opening the window. He can’t enter that house without an invitation, and the film very clearly establishes that Orlok (like a regular vampire) has to be invited in, so this is another wrong thing about that script. Eggers is being very secretive about this story, don’t expect the atual script to be online; that’s probably the script for the marketing campaign or something. And even Professor Von Franz later comes to the conclusion it’s not a demon, it’s a Nosferatu, in this case a strigoi from Balkan folklore.

[veronicascreenwriter]

An amazing catch for a pro, if you think about it.

I miss seeing pay phones and having that convenience in case of an emergency, but I have had serious OCD since I was just a little girl. Both, a blessing and a curse.

Think about what these kids would do today, if cellphones didn’t exist.

I would say computers, the internet, home video games and cellphones were the beginning of our downfall.

The kids today have no idea what it feels like to receive an old fashioned letter in the mail, the anticipation of it all and the patience you had to have, just waiting to receive sincere words from a close friend, pen-pal or family member.

This guy was holding a long conversation on that pay phone, clearly. Who was on the other end? It must have been someone he loved, thus how relaxed he is sitting. And at 55, I recall when a pay phone was still 10 cents, and an operator would answer, you’d give her the number and say “collect call” or “person-to-person” if it was going to be a long call and you didn’t have 2 extra dollars in coins to slap into the phone to pay for it.

I miss hearing live phone operators.

I can still hear the sounds of the phone, the dial tone, the little ring when you dropped the coin into the phone closing the door of a glass phone booth just to have a bit of privacy.

I was born in 1970.

I am so glad to have been around well before the internet or cellphones - when we sat with family or friends to eat supper together, waiting for our prime time TV shows every week, unable to “binge watch” shows like anyone can do now.

So much to be said here - not enough room.

This photo doesn’t look like a whole lot at first glance - but for those of us who are 50 plus - I think they will see the beauty in it like I do.

It brought back bittersweet, yet fond memories of simpler times, however chaotic, however awkward or abusive the past may have seemed - I would rather go back to these times - than live in a world of zero emotions, no one caring, zero respect toward each other over simple differences of opinion.

I am truly disgusted by the world today and regardless of family or friends still here today. I can’t wait to get off this shit show of a planet, even though I still see beauty, I still hold a shred of hope for humanity - I don’t know nor believe I will ever see those I truly loved since they’ve died - but one can still hope, right?

I appreciated living when I did - have no idea if it will be nothing but blackness or perhaps a new life somewhere in the Universe of Multiverses, enjoying a new time period. Who knows, it that which I did not appreciate growing up… is now hanging on by a thread in my ailing mind.

They say memories are all we have left - but I have watched even memories ripped away from loving family members with photographic memories. And then they were just a shell, overnight due to Alzheimer’s/dementia and other brain diseases.

So do not rely on memories, write everything you can down now and as often as possible for the future to see and learn from.

Don’t let the new world, take History away from us.

All of these thoughts - from a photo.

- VJV Feb 19th, 2025 (10:02 am)

1982

Photo: Bill Wunsch/The Denver Post

[thedissonantverses]

Writing Challenge Weekends

Alright dear writer friends this is for you! So the consensus of my poll was the writing challenges would be more accessible and time friendly if we start doing them over the weekends! So I will start posting them Friday Nights (PST) and reblog them over Saturday and Sunday for visibility!

Now few things I wanted to say because of that feedback post:

This is primarily to get people writing who may be stuck or need ideas or who want feedback and otherwise might not get it! It’s been taking me forever to get through my fic backlog but this a way I can pay attention to more writers and see what you’re up to. As always my goal on this blog is promote other fic writers and this is an easier way for me to do that but also find you other people in your ships and niches that will go gaga for your work. I’m not even strict with the rules I just want you to write hahaha. If an idea grabs you go for it that’s what this is for!

There is zero, none, zip, nil, nada pressure to finish these within a certain time frame! If you don’t find one until a year from now and you want to do it I do not care. Tag me, link me, reblog, comment, dm, send an ask I do not care! I will share it! Depending on how nsfw the fic is and what it contains I will self select BUT I will still find a way to work with you and get your writing out there!

These are currently tagged writing challenge and writing challenge Wednesday on my blog! If you want to find more please do!!! I will tag them writing challenge weekend and writing challenge going forward!

I think I do want to incorporate just writing prompts into my blog more because they’re fun but it will be more intermittent!

Oh and I don’t care what ship it is. Don’t be afraid to submit because you think I won’t like the ship. I’m a hard multi shipper but also I uh just don’t care if it gets you writing to be honest.

I also don’t care if it’s not a ship at all and you just want to write your favorite character! Again the rules are minimal to promote your creativity as well as mine! No romance needed just you.

WIP Wednesday will continue as normal as I just reblog the ones I’m tagged in but also the ones I come across hahaha and I encourage you to tag me in yours even if I haven’t tagged you directly! Please let me show off your work I beg and plead!

If you have questions, comments, concerns the ask box and dm’s are open! Or ya know put it on this post! Anyways we’ll try this out for a while and see how it goes! Look for the first one tonight!

[mspopstar]

Okay! Now what would happen if you locked Kirby, Shadow Kirby, Keeby and the other Kirbys in the same room?

KE: "Kirby! Hello!!! Where are we?!? Is this some kind of game!!!"

KB: "Ah, an' Keeby's finally awaken."

SK: "Took you long enough, now that everyone has arisen. We can begin to investigate our trapping."

KU: "What the hell is goin' on here anyways! I was busy takin' a nap and now I'm here, talk about rude, right? Right, Kirby?"

KB: "Right, Kusa. Well, I'm not too sure about what's goin' on myself... It's a bit odd isn't it."

AKAA: "..."

SK: "Do you think we've been kidnapped?"

KB: "Heeeh? I don't know? Probably. I'm makin' guesses but I can't think of anyone who'd do this."

SKB: "What do you mean?"

KB: "Bein' in a white room doesn't really strike as my greatest Nightmare so it can't be the Nightmare Wizard either. We're awake and if he had a evil plan he would make it way more extravagant..''

SKB: "Anyone else that piques your thoughts?"

KB: "Can't be Yin-Yarn, we're not made out of yarn and this room does NOT feel like pants. Necrodeus can't be behind this 'cause he'd also just kill us all too. Can't be Taranza, he's too preoccupied with Sectonia and he'd rather torture me for days on end than kill us... Probably wouldn't involve any of ya'll. Susie... Susie wouldn't do this kind of thing I think and if it was her we'd already have broken out of this cage. Gryll would rather challenge ya' than trap ya' and I haven't eaten Salt, Pepper and the other one so I haven't a clue why'd I have that stinkin' witch's ire... Kracko isn't strong enough to pull something like this off....Neither is Whispy"

KU: "Woah, that sounds like... A LOT! I'm gonna take a nap, so..."

SKB: "Any other ideas, Kirby?"

KB: "Can't be Dark Crafter cause... We're all smooth. Hyness is out of the question, he promised me he wouldn't do anythin' evil. Marx is the same as Nightmare, this too borin' for him to do. Too weak too."

SKB: "How... How many people hate you?"

KB: "A lot. Ah. Hate... This is Zero ain't it."

SKB: "Wh..Who?"

KB: "No, no, no... Agh. He's... He's like Dark Mind but actually a threat! Your world's Zero's him I think. Anyways, Dark Mind wasn't that big of a deal but Zero... Zero's a big deal. I hope it ain't him. But... we're in a white room. Thinkin' about it now this seems like somethin' he'd do. Guy lives off of makin' people suffer so trappin' us in a prison with no food, water, or anything really makes sense. He's literally gonna bore us to death an' probably feed off of the resultin' sadness from that... Awh, an' he's probably gone an' messed up Pop Star while we're here. Crap."

SKB: "...I hope it isn't that but let's calm down first."

SKB: "You, yellow one. Why are you covered in blood? What do you remember last before coming here?"

KB: "It's Keeby, Shadow!"

KEB: "Hihihi! I had a really fun cage match!!! Knuckle Joe said he'd take me out for a huuuuge super mega, ultra deluxe, beef bowl with ramen if I won so I went all out! Guess I got a lil' too excited cause then I went an' passed out an' now I'm here."

KB: "Ah, sounds like ya' won. Good job!"

SKB: "Affirmative. Here I appeared closing my eyes during yet another arduous training session with Meta Knight."

KB: "Eh? Nuh-uh! He was doing his afternoon patrol-y thinー"

SKB: "My Meta Knight, you ingrate."

KU: "...I was playin' around at the Dedede Resort Casino. Y'know, pinball and then I decided to take a nap by the beach after a hefty loss. Then I woke up here. Well. Wake me up once you've figured out an escape plan an' all that."

KB: "Awh, that sounds like a lotta fun, ya' have to invite me sometime. I found myself here cause Gooey licked my face to get at a fish I had and I had to rub my face real hard to get all that slobbery stuff off. When I opened my eyes, I was here!"

SKB: "That's it? you were licked by that infernal pet of yours and then you closed your eyes and that's how you appeared in this room?"

KB: "Heey, Gooey's not my pet he's my friend! What about it?"

SKB: "Well, Kusa and Keeby found themselves here after sleeping. You and I simply...blinked. Akaabi over there... I don't know. What I'm getting at is that there's no connection."

KB: "Geez, you know now that I'm thinkin' about it... If I had known we'd all meet up like this I'd have packed a picnic basket or lunch or somethin'."

KEB: "Yummy!!!"

SKB: "By the stars, Kirby, you're right... This is terrible."

KB: "Heh? What, ya' don't like picnics?"

SKB: "No, you daft fool. Food. We're going to starve in here."

KU: "GAH, DON'T EVEN SAY THAT!!!"

SIX HOURS LATER...

AKAA: "here I gotta get outta here I gotta get outta here I gotta get outta here I gotta get outta here I gotta get outta here I gotta get outta here I gotta get outta here I gotta get outta here--"

SKB: "Akaabi, please."

KEB: "Loop numba' 3236, loop numba' 3237, loop numba' 3238, loop numba' 3239, loop numba' 3240, loop numba' 3241, loop numba' 3242, loop numba' 3243, loop numba' 3244, loop numba' 3245, loop numba' 3246, loop numba' 3247, loop numba' 3248, loop numba' 3249, loop numba' 3250, loop numba' 3251, loop numba' 3252, loop numba' 3253, loop numba' 3254, loop numba' 3255, loop numba' 3256, loop numba' 3257, loop numba' 3258, loop numba' 3259, loop numba' 3260, loopー""

SKB: "Keeby, please."

SKB: "Kirby...?" KB: "Yes, Shadow?" SKB: "We're not dead, right?" KB: "No... I don't even think that's possible, right?" SKB: "Everything and anything will inevitably die."

KB: "...Huh. Probably not. Why're askin'?"

SKB: "Well..."

KB: "Hhmm?"

KEB: "ーnumba' 3261, loop numba' 3262, loop numba' 3263, loop numba' 3264, loop numba' 3265, loop numba' 3266, loop numba' 3267, loop numba' 3268, loop numba' 3269, loop numba' 3270, loop numba' 3271, loop numba' 3272, loop numba' 3273, loop numba' 3274, loop numba' 3275, loop numba' 3276, loop numba' 3277, loop numba' 3278, loop numba' 3279, loop numba' 3280, loop numba' 3281, loop numba' 3282, loop numba' 3283, loop numba' 3284, loop numba' 3285ー"

KU: "SNOOOOOOOOOOOOOORREEEEEEEEEEー"

AKAA: "here I gotta get outta here I gotta get outta here I gotta get outta here I gotta get outta here I gotta get outta here I gotta get outta here I gotta get outta here I gotta get outta hereー"

SKB: "I have done a lot of terrible things, and I have a sinking feeling that this is my personal Hell. Maybe when I was training with Meta Knight, instead of dodging properly, he halved me. Thus, for my slothful behavior and negligence leading to the harm of many before you showed up... This, this is my punishment. If so, I give my regards to Lord Morpho. She truly has outdone herself this time."

KB: "Hmmn. I don't know. This doesn't seem like a punishment, don't it?"

SKB: "That, that right there is why I'm on edge and close to losing my mind! Stop it!"

KB: "Heeh? What'd I do!?"

SKB: "How can you be so... so calm?!"

KB: "Hm. It's a little bad, yes, but I'm surrounded by friends and I always manage to get out of these sit-chyuu-waytions, don't I?"

AKAA: "here I gotta get outta here I gotta get outta here I gotta get outta here I gotta get outta here I gotta get outta here I gotta get outta here I gotta get outta here I gotta get outta here I gotta get outta here I gotta get outta here I gotta get outta here I gotta get outta here I gotta get outta here I gotta get outta here ー"

KEB: "numba' 3286, loop numba' 3287, loop numba' 3288, loop numba' 3289, loop numba' 3290, loop numba' 3291, loop numba' 3292, loop numba' 3293, loop numba' 3294, loop numba' 3295, loop numba' 3296, loop numba' 3297, loop numba' 3298, loop numba' 3299, loop numba' 3300, loop numba' 3301, loop numba' 3302, loop numba' 3303, loop numba' 3304, loop numー"

SKB: "AKAABI, KEEBY, CUT IT OUT!!!"

SKB: "Is it impossible for you still yourself for more than a second you spaz?!?"

AKAA: "...No."

SKB: "And you, be quiet! Nobody wants to hear that. I tolerated you licking off your own blood and babbling like an animal but if you continue that jabbering, you'll see a real animal!"

KEB: "Hii－! Scary!"

KB: "Shadow, calm down."

SKB: "Don't refer to me as Shadow, refer to me as Kirby! I hate this! Stuck with a bunch of lesser beings!"

KB: "...Well, I can't do that cause I'm Kirby. So calm down, okay?"

SKB: "H-How can I? I'm trapped with you and them and I'm stuck, and I can't go home a-and andー"

KB: "Shadow, it's gonna be fine. I'm sure of it! Totally sure! 100% positive!"

SKB: "How?"

KB: "Cause I belive in myself and my selves!"

SKB: "It's BELIEVE! BELIEVE YOU ASS!!! I'm not YOURS either!"

KB: "Anyways, chillax Shadow. I've figured out a way to get out of here!

SKB: "...."

KEB: "Ooh, ooh! Me too!"

KB: "Aren't ya' gonna ask how?"

SKB: "...How?"

KB: "It's a bit of a hunch, and I feel like dumb for not realizin' earlier but couldn't we just warp outta here?"

SKB: Can... Can the Warp Star even make it here? Wherever here is?"

KB: "I dunno, better to try than do nothin'! Plus, ya' gotta remember. The farther we are, the faster it is! Dedede said it can build up an huuuge amount of speed but then he started talkin' maths so I tuned it out!"

SKB: "Well... If that is the case, I suppose it could work. Go ahead and call it."

KB: "WAAAAARRRRRRPPPPPP STARRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

KB: "Now we wait."

SKB: "Wait, wait, wait! ...Kirby."

KB: "Yeah, Shadow?"

SKB: "Correct me if I'm wrong but... If your Dedede said that the Warp Star increases with speed and force relative to the distance of the summoner, right?"

KB: "Geez, what now Shadow? Can't ya' be happy and wait patiently?"

SKB: "No. It could kill us all. You know how your Warp Star constantly explodes when you land because you don't decrease its fv? Let's say you're summoning it from...20 miles away. That's fine cause the combined velocity and force wouldn't be dangerous.... That'd be like... F⋅v≈1.2075×10^9, right? Anyways, not too big of a deal! Small explosion, very managable."

KB: "Heeeeh?"

SKB: "The force and velocity of your Warp Star expoentially increases relative to the distance of its summon or target, building up lots of energy. That's why they're so dangerous but so quick. So, if we all are far FAR far away. Depending on where we are... if it's then the force and speed of the Warp Star will increase with such an exponential level strength that once it makes impact it will be like standing right next to hundreds of thousands of Bombers exploding all at once."

KB: "Oh I'm sure it'll be fine. Plus maybe it'll break this prison! Win-win!"

SKB: "With us in it."

KB: "P'shaw! It'll be fine! I've been through worse!

SKB: "Kirby."

KUU: "Whaat? We're still here? Lame. What'd I miss"

SKB: "Kirby here is going to harness the infinite power of exponential force of a Warp Star and kill us all"

KB: "Nuh-uh! Shadow's bein' a sourpuss cause he couldn't save the day like he wanted. I'm about to break us out."

KUU: "Well, how long will it take? I'm gettin' sleepy again. Hungry too."

KB: "...I dunno..."

SKB: "Well, there is a positive. It's gonna come here quick. By this point, it will eventually exceed the speed of light and a blazar jet. Perhaps more even. You probably don't know, but it theoretically can travel between dimensions so..."

KB: "So... 'Kirby, you're plan might work?' is what ya' mean to say?"

SKB: "Yes! Yes it will work, it will work and then we will be disentigrated as a celestial object makes impact with the force of travelling past the speed of light."

TEN MINUTES LATER...

AKAA: "Do you all hear that?"

KB, SKB, KEB, KUU, AKAA: "?"

*Piii-------------------------------------------------------!!!!!"

*Krrkk...k..*

KB: "Yay, it's here!!!"

SKB: "..."

KEB: "AHAHAHAAH!!!! BRING IT ONNNNNNN!!!!"

AKAA: "WE'RE GONNA GET OUTTA HERE!!!!"

KUU: "Is it gettin' hot in he-"

A̴̟͇̞͈̘̱̟̙̗͑̎̓̎̎̊̇̐Ȧ̵͚̘̗͈͓̘͓Å̴͈̝̀͌̀͗̅͊̅̚͝ͅA̶̛͕̠͜A̷̗̙͕̪̻̭̞͕̗͌À̷̡̒̑̅̅̂̉͊̂̑A̶̧̠̱̲̝͎͐̈̂̉́̚Ȁ̴̡͘A̸̢̼̻̲̫̖͚͗̔͐͊͂͗̏͐͌A̷̗͛̏̐͂̉̋̿̎̋̌A̴͕͙̩͚̩̩͖̍͌̋̅̉̇̈͂́A̸̮͎̲̭͍̫͈͆͒͆̈̚͝Ą̶̩͈̱̟̱̖͖̉Ã̸̛͇̗͖̳̣̩̂͊̍͊Â̷̰̪͍̻̳Ḁ̵̌̑̄̎͗̔A̸͕͍̦̲͙̼̳̼͔̽̐͝A̵̧̢̺͉̩̺̎͌̏͛̄Å̴͔̯̽̈́̉͌͊͝Ả̴̙̎͜Ȁ̵̛͇̰̟̠̮͖̗̅͊̔̇͂̑Ȧ̶̧̰̦̮̞̭̮͕̳Ä̴͓͚̥̪̤̤́̆̈́͐̈́̐̏͝ͅH̸͚͍̱̿́̋Ḩ̶̧̫̒̒̒̚͝H̸̝̪̮̜̭͗͐͋̑̋̓̚Ḩ̷̮̳̲̤͙͚͇̇͋̓̔̐Ḫ̶̻̩̬̲͇̠͊͑͊̈́̆̍͑̾͠ͅḦ̸̛̙̱̎̽H̸̙̹̒̐̒̾Ḩ̶̛H̸̙̰͉̱̘̰̘̙̭̣̑͊͌̓̾̓̓̏̌A̸̧̨̛̰̪̰̲͈͗̉̓́̑̾͘͠͝A̴͚͔͋̀̓͘͝͠Ą̸̛͕̞̮̰̖͈͊͒̾̀̕A̶̢̡̢̡̞͔̪͔͈̲͋̈́̇̔͘À̵̢̩̱̰̙͔͆͜A̴̖͈͉̟̝̣̠͋́A̴̢̦̲̐

???? LATER...

[until-i-set-him-free]

[The idea of Buck meeting married Saltommy got to me, what can I say.]

***

The guy catches Buck’s attention right away.

It’s been a while since Bobby and him first sat there in the hospital, awaiting any news on Hen and Chimney’s old friend – Tommy, as he introduced himself before going right into action by their side, no hesitation and all ease. They’ve since melted into the waiting area, almost empty and so strangely slow in this air condensed with worry, each and every person shut inside their own head. The concerns congealed and almost in their final shape, and the whole room as if set in amber; the flies almost perpetually still by now, and almost dead.

Until this guy breaks through it on his way in, the stillness shattered and sent flying all directions – the air suddenly charged and rearranging to accommodate him. 

He goes in quickly, his black coat fluttering after him, and he’s rather scanning the surroundings than looking around; which, alongside with his posture, his softly grayish hair buzzed short, his cleanshaven face and his whole demeanor all point to him being a first responder. He’s panting a bit through the open mouth, as if from running; or from something else.

And he freezes there completely still as his eyes zero in on something.

That something, much to Buck’s surprise, being Bobby.

Bobby who seems taken aback for a second, but then stands up and takes a step towards the guy who’s already storming through the rest of the distance in between.

“Sure, cause why the fuck not…” he breathes, eyeing Bobby up and down as he stops in front of him, close. “They tell you anything?”

“Just that they took him to surgery to get the splinters out of him.”

The guy closes his eyes, bows his head as if to nod; but he doesn’t lift it back up. He just stays like this, just breathing in. Buck stands by Bobby’s side, and up closer he’s surprised to notice that this man is a bit shorter than him; the way he seems to fill up the room.

“For what it’s worth, his condition wasn’t critical.” Bobby takes on his most fatherly soothing voice. That’s what they gathered from the paramedics – that none of Tommy’s crucial internal organs seemed to have suffered. Bobby and Buck were both on call and joined in for the emergency, alongside with the pilot friend that Chimney called for help; who showed up for them and unfortunately got hurt in the process. Bobby and Buck have come here as soon as they changed at the station. “And I don’t know how much you’ve heard, but he really saved the day. Saved all of us.”

Buck is just about to jump in and add something from himself, but the guy looks up at Bobby with such a glare that Buck can feel the hot flash just from standing next to him.

“I’ll hold off my jumping up and down.” It’s not only in his voice but in his whole stance somehow – this readiness to rip the throats out and make no sound while doing it.

“Hey, take it easy…” Buck puts his hand on the guy’s shoulder, and the next second it’s off him and in sharp pain; they guy’s flicked it off himself so fast and hard and without even looking. And now he moves his eyes to Buck – and it sends the shivers down his spine. It’s not like burning rage in there, but something quieter and more dangerous; something that could crush you, swallow you whole, mow you down before you even see it coming; and it hits Buck like a train. It’s enough to reconsider getting a step closer to him, or even looking at him; in fact, Buck has to give his all not to take a step back.

Who is this guy?

“Sal.” Now it’s Bobby trying to talk him down; and apparently he knows better than to touch him.

“It’s Deluca.”

“From what I hear it’s captain Deluca.”

“Oh, up yours.” He looks back at Bobby, and some anger does seem to go away – replaced with reprehensive disbelief.

“I just meant that you’ve come a long way.”

“Yeah, likewise.” He makes a face indicating that he’s not amused, and done here.

He’s already turning away from them when the voice is heard – “Family of Thomas Kinard?” – and it leaves Buck just a split second to notice it; but still he notices. How in this glimpse of hearing Tommy’s name, all the anger and animosity from his eyes are gone; and the guy, Deluca, is already off, saying “Yeah, here” – and already just the back across the room, all attentiveness, black coat to the white coat.   

Instinctively, Buck takes a step towards them to go on and listen in, but Bobby stops him with his hand, shakes his head.

“So, you know this guy?” Buck asks him.   

“Briefly.”

They watch him follow eagerly after the doctor, and disappear around the corner; not giving them another look.

“You think he’s gonna kick us out if we go in there?”

“Maybe not.” Bobby goes to sit back down. “But let’s give them some time.”

When they eventually ask where to find one Tommy Kinard and go to that room, what they hear even before walking in is laughter.

Buck follows in after Bobby and is met with the sight that makes him exhale through a smile – Tommy wide awake, and beaming brightly on his hospital bed. And gazing at the guy from the waiting room, who is the one laughing now – a bit raggedly, a bit hysterically, and pleasantly.

His laugh dies down a bit as they walk in, but still he seems to be entirely different person than back there, the coat and all the tension from his shoulders lighter; and holding Tommy’s hand. They used to stick together when I first came to 118, him and Tommy, Bobby said after the guy left. And now the missing piece clicks itself into place in Buck’s head; and with surprisingly satisfying sound.

He listens as Bobby asks Tommy how he’s feeling, and to his response of being alright, really, just a few new scars in the collection.

“And it doesn’t freak him out,” Tommy says, to which Bobby smiles and nods.

And Buck’s not only glad to hear that he’s alright, but also strangely glad to see it all. Tommy’s face again, and this smile of his; and the other guy, too, and their arms exposed now; and their big hands clasped together and resting comfortably on the covers. And that last remark of Tommy’s may be lost on Buck, but not the way he points to Deluca fondly with his head while saying it, and covers his hand with his second – holding it now in both of his like stating this one here, oh mine.

Buck feels something soft arise in him, something giddy, something fairly new in a way of how good it feels; some early summer’s warmth, and unexpected. He assumes it’s the relief that this cool guy who helped them is alright.

Or that it’s only that.

“Hen and Chimney couldn’t come yet, but they’re waiting for an update.” Bobby’s already taking out his phone. “So I’ll give them a call and they’ll probably want to pop in after their shift if that’s alright.”

“Of course,” Tommy says.

“Chimney?” Sal gives him a look.

“Howie.”

“Ah, right. Heh.”

“Alright, so I’ll call them. And Tommy, we couldn’t be more grateful for your help, really. Thank you.”

“Sure thing, cap,” Tommy says and Sal huffs quietly at that, but there’s nothing deeper there – nothing dangerous, not anymore.

Bobby nods to both of them, already on his way out. By the door he stops and looks at Buck, as he lingers there near Tommy’s bed. Truth is, he just doesn’t want to leave yet, and he searches for something to say, but Bobby just tells him: “I’ll meet you by the exit”, and he leaves the room.

And Buck’s heart skips a beat as he turns back to them, not knowing if he even has the right to stay a bit longer, or what to say. But when he looks at Tommy, he’s smiling at him and speaks first:

“Evan, right?”

“Yeah.” Something in him even giddier at the sound of his own name; and that he remembered.

“You met Sal?”

“Not, uh…” He shoots him a glance and is not sure how to categorize the encounter they had. “No. Not really.”

Tommy frowns and looks to Sal, who is an image of impassiveness now and just gives him a soft shrug.

“Ah.” When Tommy looks back at him, it’s with understanding. “Don’t worry, kid. He bites by invitation only.”

Buck’s unsure if he’s allowed to smile at that, but when he looks to Sal for reference, he’s met with a grin so bright and so contagious that he just smiles back without remembering what he’s been thinking of. And just as before he felt the urge to take a step back, now he finds himself drawn to this face suddenly – the unforced softness in his features, the friendliness in his eyes; the cleft.

And for the second time today.

“Sal.” He stands up and extends his hand to Buck while still holding Tommy’s with the other. “Or Deluca.”

“Evan Buckley.” He gives him the hand that Sal brushed off himself not so long ago; but the handshake they share now is firm and warm and anything but sharp. “Or just Buck.”

Sal sits down again and Buck feels himself in front of a welcoming audience suddenly, and with the right to speak.

“So, anyway. Tommy, I just wanted to say… I really appreciate you jumping in with us like that. I’m sorry you got hurt, of course, but still, what you did there… it was really cool.”

“Jesus, man.” Sal shakes his head. “Don’t give him ideas.”

“What?” Tommy looks at him. “You don’t think I’m cool?”

“Hey, I know damn well you are. If being cool is going helter-skelter into the freakiest shit you can find, you’re the coolest guy around. Actually, you might wanna consider taking a beat already.”

“Okay, first of all: you knew that when you married me. And all of all, babe, remind me… what’s that about pots and kettles?”

“Don’t get smart with me. Or you’ll get what’s coming.”

“Hey, don’t threaten me with a good time.”

“See what I gotta work with here?” Sal looks to Buck. “That’s his response to everything.”

Buck bounces his smile in between them, back and forth just like the words they’re throwing – fondly, teasingly – at each other; and he feels it finding in them equally welcoming ground. The way they smile not only from each other but also – clearly, radiantly – at him. Suddenly he feels there’s something frivolous about how much he’s enjoying this, enjoying them. Suddenly he feels the need to get out, to get a hold of himself; to stop something from overflowing, from showing.

“I better go, Bobby is my ride…” He starts backing up towards the door. “Tommy, speedy recovery. And Sal, it was nice to meet you. And…” He starts before he thinks what to say, but he knows he needs to say something, anything; needs to get a foothold. “Once you’re better, we should… maybe get a beer sometime? I mean, I bet we could exchange some stories…”

“You betcha.” Tommy shines him another smile of his, and Buck is grateful to be halfway to the door already, his legs weaker by each step. “Don’t be a stranger, Evan.”

“Yeah, see ya, Just Buck.”

“See you, guys.” He leaves and manages three steps away from the door before leaning on the wall there, his back and his head to it, and smiling at the ceiling. He can hear Sal and Tommy jumping back into their conversation, deep voices interchanging, and laughter showing through, just as something within Buck – unveiling, and all bright, all warm; and suddenly all around.

And glowing, glowing, glowing.

“Ready to go?” Bobby’s waiting for him by the main door. “Something funny?”

“Uh, no…” He tries to take his smile down a peg. “What about Hen and Chim?”

“They’ll be here in about an hour.”

“Oh. So maybe I’ll just… hang around, you know. Meet them here and, um… show them to the right room.”

Bobby narrows his eyes; considers.

“Show them to the right room.”

“Yeah, since I already know the way… And I don’t have anything to do, I mean… I can hang.”

“Alright…” His eyes are still narrow, and with some amusement suddenly; but he leaves it for now. “And how are you gonna get home?”

“I’ll just… tag along…” He clears his throat. “With Chim, I mean. After.”

“Alright. See you tomorrow, then.” As Bobby turns away to go, it’s with a smile that’s borderline laughing at him.

But Buck doesn’t mind it, his own smile also something closer to laughing.

[orleans-jester]

Pierre would take that as a promise. After all, why would Piper want to bring him back from the dead if they weren’t going to be spending any time together? This was just going straight to his ego - Piper cared about him so much that she was bending the very natural law to bring him back from the dead, and as a person with a brain - or rather as much of a brain as a Pierre could have. Brought him into this other world where he was safer.

He’d have to catch up later on what this Pierre was like. What about him had been so important that these people wanted him back. Welcomed him back.

“Thanks beautiful,” Pierre would wink at the fate, no matter which one of them had been the one to bring him the blanket, and he wrapped it around his shoulders, letting it dangle just long enough to cover his netherregions.

Of course Zero was going to volunteer. His own Zero had been exactly like this one. It made him feel all at home, all warm and cozy again. “Knew it would be you, pup.”

He was a little disappointed that ‘breaking it in’ wasn’t going to include Seven, but he could accept that. He gave Seven a huge thumbs up. “You’re such a mama’s boy,” He teased his friend. “Enjoy life, man, and I’ll see you later.”

He had one arm around Zero, and the other was reaching for Piper’s. This Pierre had slightly different hands. The fingers were a bit more calloused, for this Pierre took music a bit more seriously than the other. Hey, serenading was always a good way to get the ladies. Bitches loved broody musician types and he could play into the stereotype. But he also gripped onto Piper’s hand, her being his literal ifeline here. The reason he was breathing in this forest air.

Bouncing around made his stomach feel a little bit queasy though.

He wasn’t used to that.

“Beautiful color scheme,” He smirked, looking around. Some things never changed. Piper’s colors didn’t. He was looking at those comfortable pillows like he wanted to just sink into them for a little while. Let his stomach settle. Let everything settle. Come to terms with what had just happened.

“I don’t need a stylist,” He said with a laugh, running his fingers through his hair. The tips were still slightly wet from the bathtub that they had been in. They clung to his neck. “But thanks, I preash. Especially for the green.”

He was going to be needing that alright. And the laptop was a good idea. He wasn’t necessarily the smartest man but he knew enough to do a little bit of research into this world, see what was different. He didn’t even know about the zombies yet. About what happened in Feral. What had happened to New Orleans. He knew the forest, and then the inn, and now this place, wherever it was that they were.

He pulled Piper into him, chest to chest for a second, his dark brown eyes looking into her purple ones. He licked his lips, then the corner of his mouth went up in a smile.

“I’m glad I’m here too.”

He opened his mouth to answer that relaxing was exactly what he wanted to do, and maybe another bath, but Zero was on top of that, making him chuckle and rub the back of his neck.

“Start up the water,” Pierre said, pointing towards Zero. “And Piper, if you could kindly provide us with some groove, I think we’re going to have a beautiful night together.”

Promise him?

Piper wasn't ready for that. Would it be a lie if she promised?

She smiled, nodded, and sealed it with a kiss.

Close enough.

That one might get to her conscious later. Depends how deep she thinks about it. She was told Pierre is Pierre is Pierre in the grand scheme of things. Somehow they're all Pierre. So that was that and she was going to try and stick to it.

After the blaze in the forest a Fate was kind enough to wrap him in a blanket not having thought to bring him clothes. The plan was to take him back home straight away and deal with such things. His reaction however was just so... Pierre.

Zero jumped right up to volunteer. "Oh. Me! Me-me-me." He quickly grabbed up Pierre's hand like it was the most normal thing to do ready to head off anywhere.

Seven had his finger up in the air like he was raising his hand in a classroom when his mother, Lachesis stepped in between them.

"We're all very glad you're back, my dear and I'm sure you're very excited to break that body in as you say."

Clotho interrupted with a little shake of her hips.

"A little horizontal mambo never hurt anybody."

"BUT-" Lachesis glared daggers at Clotho, "-my son's been dead and a momma gets first dibs."

Seven's eyes went to Pierre with a little laugh. "I'll meet up with you a little later. Promise. Enjoy the pup. I will always be good to my momma. Allow me to break you in later."

Clotho kept shaking her hips as all three, Lachesis and Atropos started to head in formation in the same direction back home. Seven was still chuckling about breaking Pierre's body in. He wanted to break his own in too. At this point he had no idea it was a different timeline's Pierre. It looked Pierre to him. No one told him a thing. All Seven knew was he, himself felt good as new like he never died. He felt the same age as when he left. There weren't a lot of differences he could tell straight away. He felt like himself in the body he stole. He was feeling on top of the world and felt high on life, literally.

Lastly, there was Piper. She moved in towards Pierre. It was her responsibility to get Pierre stable and settled in this world, so she wasn't going to go anywhere. She understood the Fates wanting a moment with their lost son after she sprung that one on them out of the blue. It was probably extremely emotional for their family.

"Here." Piper put out her hand too. "Hotel time."

Piper was the only person with the ability to leave the fae circle. She'd pop Pierre and Zero to the inn, but that was just for a starting point. She had her special room there. Then she bounced them out. They left Feral. This Pierre was going to be given choices and freedom, a real life. Piper had it all planned. She had it all charted for him for later.

First, the room. It was already purchased and ready in hopes he said yes and she actually pulled this off.

She did.

So, as it would end up Pierre, Piper, and Zero were in the temporary room. Seven would be ported in later when he finished with his family.

This was Piper so the room was nothing short of luxury. She also stocked it with food for him.

"And there's a laptop. I already got it hooked up to the internet. I put a special charge card number in the drawer of the desk to use to start shopping. I didn't want to do it for you. I only bought a few essentials. Swim trunks in case you want to go down to the pool. Styling products, a little green, hair dryer, um, a couple shirts, pants, but I wanted to leave it to you. Most people like to dress themselves. If you really need a stylist to get started just let me know. Just whatever you need, use that card. Food. Whatever. I'll take care of it until we get you up and running in this life. I wouldn't leave you hanging like that. I'm just glad you're here."

"You get to stay here until you decide where you want to be. We can discuss all that whenever you're ready. Your choices. I figured you might just want to relax tonight."

"OH MY GOD. PIERRE! There's a whirlpool tub in this bathroom. It's as big as a swimming pool! Right here in the room!"

Zero looked between Piper and Pierre. "Sorry was I interrupting something? Seriously, you gotta see this."