#i mentioned this on my main but if you've read this far in the tags you can have the cursed knowledge

[ruvviks]

// wip day.

i'm working on a new project that is (for once) not connected to any of my bigger original universes, so i thought i'd share some of the writing i have for it! taglist down below, feel free to take this opportunity to share your own wips (in a separate post of course) if you have any!! the first part is a sort of introduction to the story, from the perspective of main character marshall! the second part is a snippet from a scene much further into the story, to kind of paint a picture (for both you and myself lol) of what the setting and the tone of the story is gonna be like. it's a bit different writing than what you're used to from me so please take a moment to read the warnings first!! warnings >> blood, cult, death, implied cannibalism, gore, religion, violence

God won't speak to me.

He spoke to my sister when we were eleven, her howls echoing through the backyard of our childhood home as the venom of a wasp spread quickly through her veins.

He spoke to my mother the day we buried her oldest son, the hem of her alcohol-stained dress torn where it had caught on the thorns of a blackberry bush she had blankly passed through.

He spoke to my father the day he put the barrel of a .44 in his mouth, reenacting what he had classified a sin for all the wrong reasons, his trembling finger on the trigger strong enough to rip apart the last tendon holding our family together yet not to finish the job.

I was eighteen, when I was found on the river bank near Overture, Louisiana, the sharp end of a jagged knife plunged deep within my side and my bloodied hands clutching the cross necklace of my brother, my breathing akin to the ice cold shallow water grazing at my ankles as I stared up at the star-spotted sky with glazed over eyes, blue chapped lips shaped in the final hum of a prayer.

A black abyss stared back, a strained vacuum without comfort, leaving me with a plea unheard and the metallic taste of blood in my mouth.

And God did not answer.

'Gotta dig… Just gotta dig. Gotta get 'em out of there… Gotta take 'em home…'

The physical distance between Marshall and the grave did not muffle the continuous mumbling, the shaky voice of the young priest clear as day like a whisper directly in his ear as the eerie silence looming over the church's cemetery left him with not much else to focus on. He knew he should turn around and leave, at that hour of the night— get back in his car and return to Posey in the motel, get some sleep while he still could— yet curiosity held him tight within its grasp, and each step he took pushed him closer into the wrong direction.

'Just the bones… Just the bones…'

The man was hunched over, back turned towards Marshall and partially obscured by the few last rows of gravestones stood between the two of them. His neck twitched— a sudden and unexpected movement at an angle Marshall did not hold for possible, yet it had happened entirely too fast for him to clearly see.

'Hey, is everything alright?' he called out; well against his better judgment, hairs on his forearms standing up straight as his feet carried him another few inches closer to the priest.

And the closer he got, the more he wished he had listened to himself.

If he had just turned away, he wouldn't have had to notice the unusual and unplaceable noises bubbling up from the priest's direction. He wouldn't have had to realize the priest was sat next to a coffin, yet to be lowered into an undug grave. (A curious practice, but Marshall was not one to judge— Overture'd had to endure a rather tiresome series of curiosities as of late, and an unburied corpse in the middle of bumfuck Louisiana in the midst of a yet to be explained power cut would be the least of its problems.)

'Just the bones…. Gotta dig… Gotta bring 'em home.'

'Do you need help?' Marshall persistently asked, his voice muffled by the thrumming of his own heart in his eardrums while his eyes trailed over the coffin— splintered and shattered at the lid, the glimmer of the distant church lights barely enough to reveal the outline of an axe resting on the dirt at the priest's ankles.

'Have to do it, there's no other way. Gotta dig, gotta dig, gotta dig—'

'Hey!'

Marshall should have never stayed in town.

He realized that now, as the priest's obsessive muttering came to a sudden stop forcing Marshall to hold still too— yet he had already approached too closely, and realized that no dirt had been dug in at all, and realized that the priest's hands were instead stuck inside the coffin repeatedly plunging deeper and deeper into the rotting remains of the corpse inside, once white vestment covered in blood and gore and he stared up at Marshall with a faint glow in two milky white eyes and with a wide grin exposing bloodied and shattered teeth, much akin to a predator looking at its next prey.

'Just the bones,' he repeated, the nodding of his head nearly belittling— as if to convince Marshall this was how it was supposed to be, as if to convince him the Word of God was not to be neglected and his fate as a sinner was a gift to the Divine Light and as if to convince him as long as he would not struggle it would all be over soon.

'Gotta dig.'

Marshall could not move, lamb to the slaughter as the priest rose to his feet with the axe in his hand.

'Just the bones! Gotta take 'em home.'

taglist (opt in/out)

@velocitic, @deadrlngers, @euryalex, @ordinarymaine, @gurathins;

@mojaves, @shellibisshe, @dickytwister, @mnwlk, @rindemption;

@ncytiri, @calenhads, @noirapocalypto, @florbelles, @radioactiveshitstorm;

@strafethesesinners, @fashionablyfyrdraaca, @aemondtargeryen, @radioactive-synth, @katsigian;

@estevnys, @elgaravel

[plusultraetc]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY PRESENT MIC, I got you (super)villainy <3

[jweekgoji]

Hello! So I read your sentinel/starscream x reader fic and was absolutely devastated to check the tag and see it was one of like…maybe 3 other TFO!starscream fics on here? So I wanna request NSFW of my boy TFO!Starscream. The lack of content is killing me 🤕 Thank you! (Specifically a high guard!reader x starscream if you do end up see this)

Starscream/High Guard!Reader [TFO]

tw: NSFW (minors don't read, don't interact), praise kink, commander/subordinate relationship. word count: ~740 a/n: I think this version of Starscream will be more popular if only the writers decided to keep that scene where Starscream helps the main trio to rescue D-16 and the others. :(

It was no secret that the well-known leader of the High Guard was quite popular among the citizens of Iacon. Compliments came from all over the place, from the citizens to the Primes themselves.

“You've been so great today, I don't know who else would lead a mission against Sentinel so well like you do.”

“Mhhm.”

“There is no one else, a better commander than you.”

“...Continue.”

“I think you're far smarter and stronger leader than this false Prime wannabe, Lord Starscream.”

Starscream's servo clamps his mouth shut as your words reach his audio receptors. You notice his optics dimming a little, a slight shiver running along his spine. Did the mention of the title capture his attention that much? Or perhaps it was your confession that he was better than that greedy liar leading Iacon now? Either way, it doesn't matter at this moment.

“You're unbelievable...” Starscream says through gritted teeth, holding back from letting out more shameless sounds. Someone might hear.

Fragging you on the throne while your comrades are unaware, seemed a tiny bit risky, don't you think? He knows that, of course. If Skywarp or Slipstream spot the two of you like that, they will never miss the chance to tease him about it for cycles.

You meet his thrusts with your hips, feeling his spike pushing even deeper inside you. A slight smirk sparkles on your face in response to an earned muffled groan from your commander.

Who would have thought so? Starscream, of all the mechs you've ever met, melts in your optics with praise. At first, you hardly even noticed it. A brief ‘you're so strong, Commander!’ or ‘wonderful job, sir’ every time made him immediately drop whatever he was doing, only to realize what you had just said.

Receiving a lot of compliments was never unusual, but for some reason, it was you who made his spark beat a little faster.

“Don't even think...about telling it to someone,” his clawed servo snakes around your waist, pushing you lower onto his lap, digits pressing tighter with each deep thrust.

You purr softly in response, enjoying the lovely view of your leader sitting directly beneath you. At a steady, lazy pace, you felt his spike buried deep inside your valve, every tiny movement causing you to hold onto him tighter.

So, so painfully slow, it almost makes the red-and-white jet hiss in annoyance. Any other good day he would have appreciated your desire for something so vanilla, but right now, all he can think about is flopping your back down on his throne, taking you right here and there how he wants it now. But that would be too good to ask for, wouldn't it?

“If you want to do it faster, just say ‘please’,” you coo, rocking your hips against his own. “It's not that hard.”

“No,” he huffs, shooting you a strict glance. Him? Begging? How funny.

“Come on, boss,” you lean a little closer, his bright red optics narrowing at the sight of yours.

“Don't be ridiculous.”

Now that's your turn to huff. Maybe if you try to use your big, charming optics on him, to make him finally give in and admit to what exactly he wants from you. You want it too. Why can't he just use his words instead of giving you these longing looks? Your commander is so unfair and childish sometimes. He can't even look you in the optics right now, perhaps, so you wouldn't give him that puppy optics of yours even he can't say no to.

“If you weren't so moody all the time, commander,” you trace your digits around the edge of the jet's wings, rubbing the small circles around the sensitive spot. “I'd let you frag me on this throne any day of the week. Just so our comrades will know that I belong to you.”

For a moment, you see him stop. A sudden sense of panic runs through your processor. Was it too forward? Now things will be awkward. You've been so caught up at the moment, you barely had the chance to think about what slipped from your mouth.

Not like anyone had the strength not to fall on their knees for Starscream, though...that is, until you feel his wings twitch at the touch. A soft, pleased hum coming from his chassis. His servo slowly wraps around your own, only to catch your wrists together, pulling them in front of your center.

“Prove it then.”

[pink-melk]

warnings: gn/afab reader, office workers au, everyone is aged up 21+, power imbalance dynamics (toji is your boss), alcohol consumption, piss kink, wetting yourself, public urination, fingering, degradation, a lot of shame and embarrassment, mentions of classic japanese work culture

note: happy birthday toji the love of my life!!! my hc is he turns 47 this year :) old baby man this fic isnt beta read so apologies for any mistakes or whatever but please mind the tags! ♥

18+ minors and ageless blogs dni you will be blocked

"Can you take another?" Your boss, Toji asks with a fresh glass of booze waving in front of your face. Despite your churning stomach and blurred vision, you nod and take the drink.

When compared to other bosses you've worked for, Mr. Fushiguro isn't nearly as strict or serious in or out of the office. He's pretty lax about most things and creates a fresh work environment in the office — you love working for him, but that doesn't mean you're going to let go of all your formal training. At the end of the day, Toji is still your boss, and if he offers you the drinks other coworkers are buying for him, you take them with a smile despite it all.

The company had offered to pay for everyone's food and drinks to celebrate Obon in the short, mandatory holiday your office is given. Initially the plan was dinner and a couple of drinks, nothing too serious and definitely not an event that would bleed into the early hours of the morning. Despite missing the last train home, all your coworkers slowly tapped out through the night, sipping on the final drink Toji was bought when the last guest of your party leaves the bar.

Not long after do you both leave for the next bar on his agenda, something about watered down drinks; of which he hasn't actually drank himself. The peak summer air doesn't hit you as hard as it should, but it's enough to have you losing your balance only slightly when you step onto the uneven path.

Toji chuckles, a hand hovering over you, ready to catch you if you stumble but you're determined to maintain your composure. "You should go back to a hotel and call it there, you pounded a few drinks tonight."

You shake your head and grow dizzier from the action, inhaling deeply. When you offer your boss your best, most professional and sober smile, he grins. "I'm good." You say through a mouth of cotton. "Unless you want to go to your hotel — by yourself, I mean."

Raising an eyebrow at you, his grin widens and the scar on the corner of his lip stretches. He's so handsome and mysterious, you always wonder how or why he became the manager of your little team. As far as you know he doesn't have any familial ties to the company, he just fell into the position. While in your own head pondering Toji's existence, he had already set off down the street.

This part of Tokyo is much quieter than the main cities — much less expensive too. Toji had bartered with finance on where to eat since the company was being cheap, but the food was quite nice considering. It's a change in atmosphere from the bustling nightlife of Shinjuku or Shibuya. There aren't people sleeping on the streets or harassing police who patrol the area.

As quiet as it is, you're still unsure when your boss turns into a dark alleyway. It doesn't take long for him to realise you're not following him, standing on the edge of the streetlight, yellow frames his sharp features in a way that makes your mouth water.

"Come on, this way is faster." When you don't start following him, Toji steps forward. "Are your legs not working anymore? This isn't the office, that excuse isn't going to work."

You take a step back and bite the inside of your lip to hold back a pout. Maintaining professionalism when you're drunk is harder than it seems.

"It's…Dark."

Toji laughs, so loud it echoes off of the walls of the abandoned buildings he's stood between. "How about I protect you? You're safe with me." He smiles and you can't help but feel at ease. "I can't lose my best employee or else the team would collapse."

All you can muster is a giggle in response but begin to follow anyway. You trust your boss wouldn't let any harm befall you, best employee or not.

The alleyway is dark and disgusting, tucked away from any kind of life, it's just you and Toji. Streetlights peek in between the buildings the further you traverse down the path, only hearing the buzz of your veins in your eardrums and Toji's groan under his breath.

"Should've used the bathroom before we came out."

"The next bar isn't that far, is it?"

Toji doesn't answer but in the lowlights of the alley, you turn to see your boss pissing against the wall of a building. You jump and make an involuntary noise of surprise, embarrassed at what you'd just witnessed and turning away. The visual of your drunken boss leaning his forearm against the wall, forehead resting on the wall looking down at himself, hand on his soft cock with piss streaming out will forever be burned in your memories.

He groans and sighs in relief, continuing the steady stream that it sounds like he'd been holding for a while. The noise of his urinating sets off your bladder too, suddenly deciding you are ready to join him.

No, you tell yourself. You'll be a decent human being and wait rather than peeing in public — no matter the darkness or the privacy, you would never do such a disgusting and trashy thing in front of your boss.

"If you need to go too," Toji starts as he shakes himself dry and tucks his cock back into his pants, "Here's your chance 'cos the next bar is pretty far."

You do need to go and the more you think about it, the worse your bladder becomes. Holding onto your pride, you tilt your chin up and hum. "No, I can wait."

He laughs and you feel his presence behind you. "I won't look if you do, promise."

"I am not going to pee in an alley in front of my boss." You balk, turning around to face him and trying not to think about his piss.

"I'm drunk enough not to remember it…maybe, probably."

With a huff, you mumble "I'm still not doing it." And begin walking again, even if going to the bathroom and relieving yourself has become all you can think about.

Walking slowly, you try to concentrate on how not full your bladder is, on how nice Toji's piss sounded hitting the wall or his sighs of relief as he let himself go. You feel so full in a way that's not at all how you want and you're beginning to sweat in the muggy Japanese heat. Still on edge with your need to pee and maintaining a level of respect and professionalism with your boss, you jump and almost let yourself go when Toji hisses in your ear. Laughing at you, he teases with the sound of a running stream to encourage you.

"Don't…!" You start and cut yourself off, composing yourself while Toji grins all smug with an empty bladder. "Let's go to the next bar if it's far. It's too hot and gross out here. Please."

Your manners are slipping with each passing moment that your boss's cock is in your head. What if he remembers this and fires you? Maybe all of this was a test to see how you'd react, encouraging you to piss even within earshot so he can fire you for inappropriate actions.

Except when you began to walk again, Toji used his arm to intercept you and trap you against the wall. You moved quickly to avoid his touch — more out of politeness than rejection — caged between his arms on either side of your head. He's so much taller than you, bigger and buff he makes you feel like a little mouse.

It's so strangely intimate and inappropriate, your clit is beginning to throb with your swollen bladder. Needing to pee and growing horny is an odd combo.

"If you need to go," Your boss whispers in your face, "Then you should go while you can."

The strange combination of warm spice and alcohol is attacking your brain in a way that's so very unfair. It reminds you of work, stepping into Toji's office. The scent also reminds you of a long term lover storing their cologne in your bathroom, a homely reminder that sets your mind at ease.

Swallowing thick and trying to clear your head, you respond, "It would be inappropriate for me to do such a thing. I'm not a drunken slob."

You say, slurring every word.

He laughs. "Squat and piss for me right now." Toji's tone lowers, growing darker and your clit vibrates harder. "I'm your boss, aren't I? You'd listen to anything I tell you to do."

Looking up at him with almost wet, pleading eyes, you silently beg for mercy. Your bladder grows weaker with each passing moment, unable to stop yourself from thinking about peeing. The sweet relief every other time you've urinated, how shameful it would be to piss in front of him — you don't even consider the reason why he's poking and prodding you about going.

Toji grins, something so wicked and devious, it makes you forget this is your boss and not a hot guy you fell into at the bar. The last thing you want to do is disappoint your boss but it's clear the manipulation tactic he's using, though the power he wields over you is doing unspeakable things to your clit. He has the power to fire you at the flick of a wrist, to make sure you never work in Tokyo ever again, and you wonder if he will do exactly that if you do or don't do as he says.

Bladder so full, you sweat bullets as Toji continues teasing you. "You had a lot of drinks since I last saw you use the bathroom — that was a couple of bars ago, yeah? You're probably full to bursting."

To emphasise his point, your boss presses his fingers into your stomach, poking around to find your swollen and urine filled bladder. It's such an inappropriate and intimate act, your boss should never be touching you like this even as a joke, yet you find yourself almost wishing he would find it. Each press of his fingers over your shirt sends shocks of excitement throughout your body, as though his body was made of electricity. You wish he would touch you skin to skin, rub his hands over your stomach and really take his time trying to find the perfect spot to press.

When he finds your sensitive organ, you squirm and involuntarily cry out at the pressure. Toji grins, "I'm just trying to look after you." His voice is low; hot, alcoholic breath hitting your lips and you wish to devour the taste. "Be a good worker and make sure you relieve yourself when you need to."

He continues poking your bladder, savouring your whines and gasps before the same hand finds its way beneath the waistband of your pants. It's all too much; trying to focus on not pissing yourself, the distracting thump of your clit with arousal, alcohol swirling in your veins and the spinning of your head. Toji's hand moves so fast in your pants, snaking down beneath your underwear in the tight space and carefully sliding between your folds to find your clit. The skin-to-skin contact makes your legs tremble and when his fingertips prod your swollen bud, you can't hold back anymore.

You release yourself then and there, suddenly sober enough to see the surprise on your boss's face. The sweet relief of your bladder being emptied is almost as good as an orgasm, momentarily embracing the warmth between your legs. For a second, you forget it's piss and not a warm bath you'd sunken into. You keep going and going, there's no way to stop as your pants grow unbearably damp and liquid trickles all the way down your legs, dripping onto the concrete. It's quiet bar your whimpers of relief — you can't bring yourself to look at Toji.

While your empty bladder and throbbing clit with your boss's hand still in your pants is nice, the alcohol seems to hit you again with a fresh wave of embarrassment and shame. Nausea swirls in your gut and you hold back from giving Toji more reasons to fire you; not just fire you, but blast your crimes of disgusting behaviour all over Tokyo. Your family name will forever be tarnished because you don't know how to control yourself, acting like a child soiling themselves in front of your boss. You're ready to hand in your resignation immediately — that, or kill yourself before the sun comes up.

Toji laughs and you still can't bring yourself to look at him. If he hadn't trapped you against the wall with his enormous frame, you'd have run far, far away, never to be seen again. His hand remains in your pants, the heel of his palm pressing against the peak of your lips as his fingers press along your folds, having moved to hit the hot stream of piss coming from you.

"I didn't expect you to piss yourself." Your boss chuckles in disbelief and you wish the ground would collapse beneath you. "You're disgusting."

It's said with a smile, you can hear it but it doesn't soften the blow on your heart — or your clit.

You gasp when his fingers slide inside of you. Two of them at once, thick and stretching you so delicious, you instinctually grab onto Toji's arms for leverage. You're confused; he just called you disgusting, he's laughing at you, why is he continuing to touch you? Instead of running away like you expected, he pushes himself closer to you, trapping you further between his body and the wall. His hips press into yours, his hand still buried in your pants and fingers in your cunt between you, hips flush against yours with his prominent erection prodding you. Toji pants in your ear as he moves in and out of you, dipping his head into the crook of your neck to get as close as he possibly can.

He's…getting off to this? It's hard to make sense of the situation, about anything that's just happened. Forced to piss yourself in an embarrassing act, your reward is being fingered in an alleyway at two in the morning. Still, you cling onto your boss, melting into his touch and allowing yourself to make the most of his generosity.

"So dirty, a filthy bitch." Toji whispers in your ear and you can't help the way your walls tighten in response, thriving off of the degradation. You are a dirty and disgusting bitch. "Would you piss on me again? If I put my cock in your pretty pussy, would you piss all over my thick, hard cock?"

You're breathless from the combination of his fingers and repulsive suggestion. Stars litter your vision and you know it's not from the alcohol. Nodding your head against his shoulder, you hum and whisper a breathy "Yeah."

Toji groans loudly, something from the back of his throat, pulling out before you'd even come close to finishing. Before you have a chance to process anything or maybe run away from shame, he's pulling your feet off the ground and hooking your knees on either side of his hips. The feeling of your slowly cooling piss being forcefully pressed into you by your boss's hips isn't something you ever expected to experience. His hard, clothed cock against your sodden and clothed pussy has you dizzy and drooling, though. Kissing you with desperation, he's all teeth and tongue and alcohol to the point you can hardly breathe. Everything feels like the strangest dream but you aren't complaining in the slightest.

"We're getting a room and some drinks," He demands, just as breathless, "And you can make a mess on my cock."

If you were any more drunk, you'd be convinced you're hallucinating as your boss drags you by your hand out the alleyway, intending to feed you drinks until you piss on him again.

[the-kr8tor]

KATY AGAIN, CONGRATULATIONS, HONESTLY I FEEL LIKE A PROUD LITTLE SISTER 🥳🤭💕💕 , YOU'VE COME SO FAR, I KNEW YOU COULD DO IT! I just wished I'd met you sooner, then I could call myself an og 💪 *sigh*

Feel free to ignore my rec if you have no inspiration, or there are other recs that need tending to 🥺

Can I get a ❣️ shaped bottle full to the brim of epsom salt and Baby's breath, please! - a short fluffy drabble consisting of the twins helping their father out during his day to day tasks on the ship

Thank you ml ❤️❤️ you're an honorary og in my heart 🩷

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 3k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, cw pregnancy talk, cw food mentions, dad! Hobie, mom! Reader, an au of my BDAS series, Billie and Ramona AU, Twins AU. Fluff!

Katy's one year celebration 🎉

“Wake up, guppies.” Hobie whispers, hands placed on Billie and Mona's shoulders, rocking them awake. It's easier when they prefer to sleep on the same bed even though they have their own right next to each other. He traces each of their noses, and they wiggle it in their half sleep state. “Thought you two wanted to help the captain today?”

Ramona is the first one to wake up, yawning, similar grey eyes cracking open. “Hi, dad.” She gives him a soft smile that Hobie reciprocates.

“Hello, guppy.” He gently rubs away sand from her sleepy eyes. “Good dream?”

“Yes, it was the mermaid dream again.” She whispers, ever so polite. “Bee and I were reading under the water while you and mum were making us hot chocolate.”

Hobie tilts his head with endearment. “How could you read underwater when the books would get wet?”

Her eyes shine, “mermaid magic.”

“I wouldn't have thought that, lovie.” She giggles, stretching on the mattress. Her hand smacks Billie to wake, groaning and frowning while she stirs.

Hobie senses an early tantrum. “G’morning, shark.”

She smiles at the ‘menacing’ nickname. Crisis averted. “Morning, daddy.” Turning towards Mona, she flicks her bicep. “You hit me.”

“Sorry, mon.”

Again, Hobie senses a fight. He's getting good at this. “What did you dream ‘bout, guppy?” He tucks away curls that have fallen in front of her face. That seemed to soften the twins away from fighting.

“I dreamed that grandad Miguel visited us on the ship and he was wearing a duck costume.”

“A duck costume?” Hobie and Mona ask at the same time.

Billie giggles with a shrug, “maybe he likes ducks.”

Hobie chuckles, too loudly. He quickly twists around to check on you. Thankfully, you still lay asleep, drooling on the pillow. Satisfied, he returns his attention towards his girls. “You two know the drill. Get dressed, brush your teeth—”

“And eat breakfast, then help the crew and captain dad.” They finish his sentence for him with a grin, twin telepathy working its magic.

He gives them a proud smile, patting each of their cheeks. “That's my girls.”

—

All three of them sit and eat outside with the ever rambunctious crew. Loaves of bread are being tossed around as people ask for them, jams are passed to and fro while Billie and Mona happily chatter with Yuri and Ned. Hobie smiles as the sun shines down on the long table, everything seems perfect with only Gwen, Miles, Pavitr and a handful of the crew with them are away on the second ship. The twins miss them dearly but after a few restless nights of them bawling their eyes out, they're counting down the days until they return back on the main ship.

The only person who isn't miles away but is very much missed on the breakfast table is you. Hobie resists the urge to wake you up, to pepper your face with saccharine kisses until you wake. But you need the sleep, especially that you're carrying the youngest crew member in your growing belly.

After breakfast, Billie and Mona help take down the dishes to the galley where Finn waits for each plate and utensil with a mountain of patience since the tiny crew members could only carry two plates at a time with some help from James. And James distracts them a lot with his stories. One time, Finn has been waiting for the next batch of dishes to be brought down, only to find the trio sitting on the stairs while James turns into their personal storyteller. Thankfully this time though, the only hang up is that Billie and Mona have small legs that don't cover much ground. With the combined help of James and Hobie (even though he needed to talk to Yuri) helped with the dishes.

Next on the agenda is a meeting with his navigator and a few of the crew members inside the captain's office. The twins seem to hate this only thing on the schedule. They sit and wait, and wait some more. With boredom etched on their faces, Ned had a brilliant idea to place a blanket down over a free table where the girls could hang out with their books, toys and drawing notebooks that Miles gifted them. Their giggles and own meeting about which biscuit is the best can be heard under the table while Hobie talks about strategy, he couldn't help but smile the entire meeting. Now it's their favourite part of the day until they see you awake that is.

Hobie brought them back on the deck with the sole purpose of teaching them how to tie knots. Or rather, they begged him to teach them. His calloused hands tie a simple ribbon around a bannister using a silk ribbon instead of the usual rough rope so that their hands wouldn't be irritated by it. His mind wanders back to the day that he first taught you how to properly secure a knot, it seems like forever ago now. But it's not so much a distant memory for him everytime he looks at you, and traces the scars on your palms— it's as if it happened just yesterday.

Waking up from his thoughts of you, he turns around to check on their progress. “Let's see what you've done then.” He's greeted by Mona's curly hair tied around the silky ribbon while Billie's curls are almost identical to hers. All tied around a cute ribbon. Though the pigtails are a bit wonky, they look absolutely adorable. He wishes that Miles could draw the moment so that he could show you later.

“Did we do good?” Mona smiles hopefully, Billie gives her dad the biggest, most adorable grin that could rival the brightness of the sun. Upon seeing this, Mona does the same, even making her eyelashes flutter. A trick that she must've gotten from you.

Hobie crouches down to their height, hands running along their hair and checking the neat ribbons. Surprisingly, they're pretty good at it. Wait till you hear your daughters are better at tying ribbons than you.

He exhales to compose himself from all the cuteness lest he scoops them up in his arms and scream into the sea, telling neptune himself at how adorable his children are.

“Brilliant, you're both brilliant.” They giggle, puffing their chests proudly.

Lo and behold, Hobie still scoops them up in his arms, giving them a squeeze. Both girls shriek happily, legs kicking about as Hobie rises to his full height. He has an idea, which might make Ned pop a blood vessel.

“How about we steer the ship?” Their eyes widened, excited screeching echoing around the deck as they nod furiously.

—

You wake up to the quiet lull of the sea. Waves lapping at the great ship, wood creaking, and blankets falling off your body when a tall wave meets the side of the ship. Water splashes against the porthole, stirring you awake further.

“—Bie?” Your throat scratches with sleep, eyes still heavy as you pat his side of the bed. “Hobie?” Finding it cold and empty, you prop yourself up by your elbows, sniffing at the cool air. “Billie? Mona?” Looking over your girls' toddler beds, you disappointedly find them both empty.

Their rooms aren't quite ready yet according to their standards, the walls aren't pink enough, and their desks aren't big enough. But you and Hobie think that they're still a little bit afraid of sleeping in their own room without the comforting presence of their mum and dad. You don't mind it at all, you also don't think you can sleep without their soft snores across the room. They are still your babies after all.

It's not unusual to find the captain's quarters devoid of your little family, not when both girls are starting to get used to their sea legs after spending the first three years of their life waddling around the shores of your shared home. They were beyond ecstatic when you and Hobie told them that it's the right time to go back to sailing the seas, something that you thought that they wouldn't even care about. But of course they would be excited, after all, their father is the greatest pirate to ever sail the seven seas (according to him and his girls.)

They're very much at home on the ship, so much so that they always wake up their ‘captain dad’ so they could help him with his morning routine even before breakfast is served. Hobie also loves being back, it's like he has never left the embrace of the tides.

Hobie has been a great sport the entire time, whenever the girls would cry about motion sickness or throwing tantrums when they want to climb up on the crow’s nest (because if aunt Yuri can do it, so can they!) he would be there helping you calm them down. Even though he hates waking up before the sun is barely peeking over the horizon, he loves it when he wakes up to his girls' smiling faces. There's nothing better than stirring awake with their little hands patting his face until they ultimately give up and use their feet to kick his legs. The girls would wake you up too but with you carrying the newest crew member in your bump, they're opting to just wake up their dad for now. Hobie has managed to convince the girls that you needed twice the amount of sleep because of the baby. Or managed to swindle them with hot chocolate in the morning, based on the fact that whenever you kiss each of them good morning, they always smell like the sweet drink.

You swing your legs at the end of the bed, socked feet padding along the room to grab your sweater, (or Hobie's old sweater for that matter) after changing and washing your face with the water basin, you head off towards the upper deck. Knowing that they're running along the floors trying to take the mop from James, who refuses to give up his job to a couple of four year olds. Walking along the corridors doesn't leave you winded just yet, you can still see your foot if you look down despite the bump. You have no idea if you can traverse the large ship once you hit the stage of having a stomach as big as a watermelon instead of the coconut sized belly you're strutting around with.

Passing along the galley, you pause at the open doorway, seeing Finn make pie crusts has you wanting to stay and help out. And by help out, you mean taking a little nibble of fruit while he looks away. You still remember the days where you used to spend hours helping in the kitchen.

“Knock knock.” You greet him with a smile. “Have you seen a certain pair of twins with their dad running after them?”

Finn chuckles, blue eyes crinkling at the corners. His grey hair weaved around blonde strands has the twins calling him Santa, or when they're in a good mood (when they want a sweet treat) they call him grandpa Finn, that has the older pirate folding immediately and making whatever the girls want. Unsurprisingly enough, he answers back. “A pair of twins and a pirate walk into a bar, I think I've heard of that joke before.”

“Different joke, Finn.” You snort, eyeing the bowl of blueberries on the counter. Finn, being the perceptive chef on board, notices your hard stare at the fruit.

Without a word, he nudges the bowl towards you, and then he points up towards the deck, replying to your previous question.

“This is why you're my favourite crew member.” Latching onto the bowl, you take it with a smile. “Don't tell Yuri.” He makes a face, putting both flour coated hands up in surrender.

You leave with a grin and a bowl of blueberries. It's still a mystery to you on how Finn keeps them fresh even after weeks of buying them from the last coastal town you anchored in for supplies. You guess you'll never know.

Walking up the steps towards the deck, you're greeted by blinding light as you open the door with a creek. The sight alone would've had you melting if not for the fragile bowl in your hands. Hobie stands on the highest deck with Billie and Ramona in his arms. While both girls are ‘steering’ the ship with their small hands gripping on the wheel as if they're actually sailing the huge ship.

“Mornin’ gorgeous.” Yuri nudges your side, hands dipping inside the bowl to take a handful of fruit, sunlight dancing along her features. “Sleep well? Or did the little pirate keep you awake?”

With the mention of the baby, your hand instinctively pats the bump softly. “Nope, the baby barely kicked me last night. And Hobie helped by letting me sleep in.”

Yuri hums, smiling softly between you and the twins laughing in their dad's arms. “He better, or I'll be the one to kick Hobie where the sun doesn't shine so he doesn't experience fatherhood ever again.”

You laugh, “that is bleak, Yuri.”

She shrugs, “I'm a pirate, Y/N, a pirate who hasn't shot her gun at a navy in months.”

“Sure, big bad pirate, who has made my girls' clothes ever since they were born.” She huffs with a teasing smile, taking another handful of berries. “Don't worry, once Gwen and the others get back from their scouting mission, you get to be a big bad pirate again.”

“I'm turning soft, doc.” She looks at you with puppy dog eyes, lashes fluttering teasingly.

“I know, Yuri, you made my girls puppets last week.”

“And they were fucking gorgeous.”

You start to walk away before she takes half of your stash. “They were! If you get tired of being a pirate, maybe being a puppet maker is your calling.”

She flips you off, grinning from ear to ear before going below deck to maybe annoy Finn instead. Bounding up the steps, Hobie and the twins heard you before they saw you.

“Mummy!” They simultaneously call out, wiggling out of Hobie's arms. He lets them gently back down on the floor, to which they immediately latch onto your legs, trying to climb up.

“Hello, my darlings!” You coo, patting both their heads. Their matching captain tricorns make you giggle. “What have you two been up to?”

“A lot!” Billie jumps up and down to reach your hip, you meet her halfway by crouching down to their level. “We fixed the sail with uncle Ned—”

“We helped auntie Yuri find land by looking into her te-escope!”

You nod enthusiastically, smile blindingly bright as you hold on to them. “What else? You two looked busy with dad.”

Hobie leans on the wheel that's still not activated with the help of a rope tied around the bottom and the other end wrapped around the bannister. The girls are none the wiser. The sun bathes Hobie in glorious light, rays of light seeping through his linen shirt, looking as if no time has passed.

“I should be careful, they're goin' to take my job as captain if they continue their trainin’”

You gasp, feigning hurt. “You mean they're planning a mutiny?! No, not my own girls!”

“What's a mu-tiny?” Billie questions, brows furrowed, an identical look that her sister is also sporting.

Hobie closes the small distance, boots thumping along the floorboards, looking softly at his girls while his hands find their way on their heads. “Tell you what, help uncle James clean the poop deck and I'll tell you.”

“Aye, aye, captain dad!” They say at the same time, even saluting Hobie. Before they could run off, you call them back.

“Take the blueberries, share them with each other, alright? Pass it around to the crew too.” You hand the bowl to them, both girls give you a grin and a smooch to each of your cheeks as thank you. Sometimes you wonder how they could be this sweet, you've joked once that they're a gift from the sea with how kind they could be. “Careful! Don't run— and they're already running off.” Their small feet bound away towards an unassuming James.

“They got that from you.” Hobie helps you up, hand warm against yours. “Always runnin’ off, always so bloody energetic.”

You prop your chin on his shoulder, smiling at him. “Did they tire you out, old man?”

“We're the same age, love.” His hand wraps behind you to cup your hip, fingers tapping along your stomach. He watches as his girls prefer to sit down on the stairs to munch on their snacks. “How's our growing pirate?”

“Good, he didn't kick me all night this time.”

“You?” Hobie leans on the bannister, back pressed on the wood while he guides you in front of him, arms around you, thumbs brushing along your spine while you cradle his jaw in your hands.

“I'm okay, Hobs, nothing of note.”

“You sure? We can still turn around so you can give birth on land.” Worry etches on his face, and you rub your hand on his forehead to flatten the worry lines.

“You forget that I was born at sea, and I've given birth to your pirate gremlins without a problem. I can handle it, don't worry.”

Hobie has a glimpse of you back then, legs coated in crimson, screams echoing around the small cabin that even silences the roar of the sea next door. “Just say the word and we'll find the nearest land, yeah?”

“I promise,” he raises a brow and you roll your eyes. “You know I never break a promise, Cap'n.”

Hobie opens his mouth to quip back, but James’ screech makes you and the pirate in your arms to look. Billie giggles as she runs away with a mop, tracking water droplets on the deck while Mona drags James down with her clinging to his leg with a laugh.

“I think we should save James before he falls overboard. Again.” You unwrap yourself from Hobie, before you could leave his side fully, he gently tugs you back in for a quick but affectionate kiss and a loving pat on your belly.

[perfectlypreservedpie]

MacCready Fanfiction Recs (Fallout 4)

hey everybody, nobody asked for this but in the midst of writing fallout fanfic I was feeling a special kind of love for my favorite fo4 fanfics and wanted to recommend them in case you hadn't read 'em. Because they are VERY GOOD and writing fanfic is hard, so you gotta give props to those who sweat for your comfort fics.

I'm gonna recommend my top three finished fanfics, and then two more bonus fics that are being updated rn. As a clarifier, these are all Maccready fallout 4 fics. so. keep that in mind.

im tagging the authors and also anybody who wants to join and share their favorites too!

3. THE FATHER(S) AND THE SON(S) on ao3 by @sirmanmister

I'm going to preface this rec by saying this: there is Fanon MacCready. There is canon MacCready. And then there is ascended!whatBethesdawishesitWAS MacCready, which exists solely in this fanfiction. The characterization of Mac is so well written. He is snarky, he is vulnerable. He desperately wants to grow up but doesn't know how. He has the most sick character arc in this story!!!

It's not a romance but instead a coming of age story where the sole survivor becomes a de-facto parent to Mac. The heart of the story is about how to raise a child while you're still trying to grow up yourself. The apocalypse setting lends itself well because the Wasteland is a place where NOTHING is beautiful, but the way that M!Sosu and MacCready care for their sons is beautiful. Which makes it special and worth fighting for.

As a fun fact, I read The Road by Cormac McCarthy for class a week after finishing this fic and I was thinking about this fic the whole time because the themes of fatherhood during an apocalypse hit a lot of the same beats. Maybe my professor would kick me in the teeth by comparing fic to McCarthy, but @sirmanmister YOU ARE MY CORMAC MCCARTHY <3

2. WORKING CLASS HERO on ao3 by @bluegrasskitty

This is the kind of fic you take with you to toilet, to work, in-between classes. It will suck you in. AND THERE'S A SEQUEL TOO YOU GUYS‼️

The sole survivor in this story is the model for the Nuka Cola girl. You know the hot lady in the spacesuit? SHE HAS A BACKSTORY. AND YALL IT MADE ME WEEP. During some point of the story, I sort of stopped rooting for MacCready to be the narrator and just wanted Nora Cabot to take the reins. When I tell you I think of this oc every two to three business weeks. She's an incredible leading lady. I can't look at Nuka Girl posters in the game without thinking of Nora Cabot, my beloved.

the sequel IS SO FIRE. It's the best reimagining of 'what happened after the institute blew up' that I've ever read. im gnawing at the bars of my enclosure actually.

A VERY GOOD PLOT TWIST I CANNOT MENTION TO NEW READERS BUT IF YOU'VE READ IT YOU'LL UNDERSTAND. AND IF YOU UNDERSTAND DM ME I HAVE TO TALK TO SOMEBODY ABOUT IT. HHh.

The amount of world building that @bluegrasskitty puts into this story is insane. They ARE Beth Esda.

As a fun fact, I didn't know that radchickens were canon in fallout. I thought it was a plot device made up by this author to excuse the ability to make cake in this book, but radchickens ARE real. When I was playing Far Harbor last year, I found radchickens and thought that @bluegrasskitty manifested them into existence because they had that kind of power.

that being said, I still think this author has that kind of power.

1. Atom Bomb Baby on ao3 by @starlightwrites

I think you dropped something....my jaw.

fellas. fellas. this is my comfort fic. You ever had a comfort fic? Something you come back to at least once a year to reread to feel something? the fiction equivalent of chicken noodle soup? this is what Atom Bomb Baby is to me. this is peak literature actually. if I ever figure out book binding, im doing this one first.

Plot wise, it's a retelling of Fallout 4's main story through the perspective of MacCready. But (and im wheezing as I say this) it's also so much more THAN THAT.

this fic author understands that MacCready is not a womanizer but is in fact a touch starved loser. and they are CORRECT.

MacCready spends the entire fic like 'uuuhhhh I dunno about this one, boss!'

ITS BEST FRIENDS TO LOVERS RAHHHHHH

it also has a nostalgia feel to me too, because reading it gives me the same feeling as what it was like to play the game for the first time, years ago. maybe it's because I've read it so many times over the years, but reading it feels so satisfying.

The author spends 10 chapters at the end solely dedicated to an epilogue. I wish more stories did this. They go through the wringer in this story, and it's so deeply satisfying to see how cleanly everything gets wrapped up. MacCready and the Lola work really well together as a couple, so it's awesome to see how they work together after the battle is done.

6 out of 5 stars.

BONUS FICS !! aka fics that are still updating! I squeal with joy when I get an ao3 email about these: 1. Best Laid Plans on ao3 by @druidgroves - Georgia Tate is an incredible character and sole survivor! She was a teacher prewar, so it's really fun to get her perspective on the world. She cares a lot about education and libraries and I find her really relatable and endearing. It's a cool thing for a character in an apocalypse to care about! It also makes for fun tension with Mac, who's written as a pragmatic survivor. A great take on familiar characters and their dynamics. - And It's a great slow burn! I'm really enjoying reading it. 2. Long Time Running on ao3 by @twosides--samecoin - If you've ever thought that Med-Tek was too convenient an option for Duncan's cure, this fic was written with you in mind. - RJ goes to Canada and im obsessed with it. - If you're interested in fallout lore, specifically the bit where the U.S annexed Canada and wished that there was more info about that, I would highly recommend this fic. Twosides--samecoin put in THE WORK. The world building they do to explain Canada's side of the Great War is so fun!!! its genuinely such a thrill to read!

I'm tagging the authors who I mentioned, if you all have favorite fics (fallout or otherwise, I'd love to hear em!) Thank you for making good art!

[ppumeonae-bigvibe]

alley-oop

↖ navigation: ateez masterlist || main masterlist 

pairing: san x gn! reader

↬ tags: cold x warm trope!, i really think i let loose on this one (my inner delusions are surfacing the more i type and before i knew it i birthed this very piece from my author-ussy, !

summary: san chuckles in acknowledgement, "it is my wish for you to see me in the nationals, but now that i won, i want sunbae to grant me another wish."

word count: 3.2 k words

a/n: i realized that what i see and read greatly influences the things i write...the increase in thriller and action kdrama has certainly been a big reason why my well has been dry lately—

also -> alley oop - a high pass caught by a leaping teammate who tries to dunk the ball before landing.

— 8 months before

"choi san, you need to get your grades up in the upcoming semester, or i'm not going to be able to let you compete in the upcoming basketball nationals at the end of the year."

his eyes widened at his coach's announcement.

"get your overall rank up to top quarter of your cohort. i've put you into the list of players, but your name will be removed if you don't improve."

"but, coach-nim!"

"our members have to balance both the club activities and school work, and i expect more from you because you are our team's stellar player. do you hear me?"

biting back an array of complaints, he hung his head in shame and accepted his fate. he knew that his grades weren't great and assumed if he kept playing well (he was good at it after all), his coach would overlook the horrible C and D grades.

"i know you can do it."

top quarter? he needs to be the top 25% of his cohort??

"yes, coach-nim."

the only problem now was to find someone who could tutor him.

— 8 months before

"and...yeah that was what happened. coach-nim pulled me out of extra b-ball practices. but who is going to want to tutor me?" san grumbles, listlessly swirling his noodles with a flick of his chopsticks.

"i know someone who could tutor you. all the subjects." wooyoung casually mentions over lunch and san jerks up, raising an eyebrow at his friend, "wait...you are serious?" wooyoung nods his head, mouth full of noodles.

"yeah. i know this sunbaenim who happens to just be the top scorer of the school." san sputtered, gold having landed in his lap, "dude?! why didn't you tell me earlier??"

— 7 months and 2 weeks before

"sunbae!" you watch in horror as this male student came barrelling down the hallway, calling out your name another time. not believing your eyes, you clutched onto your bagstrap tighter, the male progressively gaining unto you.

what on earth...?

your flight or fight instincts was triggered and you begin running away from him, not having any clue about what was going on.

"sunbae! stop running away please!" he never ceased his pace, steadily catching up. "w-what do you want...!" you hollered worriedly. he continued to chase you out of the hallway towards the school track field. you felt a sharp tug and you were sent falling backwards into his arms.

"for some nerd like sunbae, you are quite the runner."

you were absolutely floored, sweaty and breathless, whereas he seemed put together, not a hair out of place. you jumped out of his hold, shooting him a puzzled look, "why were you running after me...choi san-ssi?" you squinted at his name tag and he stares pointedly at you, "...now that you've stopped running, i got something to ask."

— 7 months and 1 week before

after much persuasion (it surprisingly wasn't too difficult), you agreed to tutor him after you mentioned that you were friends with wooyoung. in the name of 'getting to know someone better', he has been asking the people in school about what they know of you.

this was as far as he has gathered: you were not someone who stands out from the crowd, the only thing distinguishable was just your outstanding grades. you hardly said no to any request and were an all-round nice person, smiling everywhere you went; hence you were also quite the popular person, much to san's chargin.

and somehow, wooyoung also just happened to be your neighbor. (san wonders why wooyoung's grades weren't stellar, but who was he to judge, right?)

here he was, sat beside the top scorer of the school, also his senior, and also somehow wooyoung's contact. he felt a bit out of place in your neat and tidy room, a stark contrast to his messy and dim one.

"san-ah, let's try that again, shall we? if we look through this part again..."

he didn't want to be here, but he needed to pull his grades up...by a lot. damn his poor grades. he sighs frustratedly, rubbing his eyes from the bright afternoon light streaming into your room. well, it was helping him to focus somehow...

"are you paying attention?" you lightly tapped on his shoulder and he scowls, "sunbae...i'm trying to..."

out of courtesy, he told you to drop the honorifics and now he doesn't know whether to hate the fact his name rolls off your tongue so sweetly or that it was annoying.

"sure, okay...listen, this part here? that's important. if you follow..." you continued your explanation, but paused when you see him drifting off into his own world yet again.

"san? do you need a break?" mildly mortified because you caught him zoning out more than once (this was the fourth time), he huffed and shook his head.

with amusement, san watches as you pulled out a packet of chocolate milk from your bag and he raises a brow when you push it into his hand. "sunbae, what..." did you think he was a little kid? he was nearly 2 heads taller than you and--

"just something to cheer you up. i thought you might like it...but if you don't..." you proceeded to take it back but san was quicker to grab it, lightly grazing your hands in the process.

"i want it." he realized how much he sounded like a petulant child and cleared his throat, 'i mean...i'm hungry." you smiled affectionately at him, causing him to practically wince at your undivided focus.

gulping down on the milk, san purposely avoided eye contact with you. he subtly glances at you from the corner of his eyes: you were looking intently at his worksheet, scribbling tips and notes at the borders, neatly summarizing for him what is the important things.

he'd rather get punched in the stomach than admit he likes you more than he thinks. (he doesn't know yet.)

"well...are you going to start listening?" "yeah...yeah..."

— 5 months and 3 weeks before

"sunbae..." san spots you sitting down by the bleachers in the evening sun and his heart rate picks up. it's been a few weeks since you started tutoring him and he's beginning to look forward to each and every session, putting in the effort to actually revise his topics so you could be proud of him. he's definitely warmed up to you, and unbeknownst to him, his cold exterior begun to chip in your presence.

jogging over, he calmed down for a bit—taking his excessive excitement down a notch—before talking to you

"what are you doing here?" he hoped he was presentable as he stood slightly nervous before you.

"wooyoung told me i should come and support him; i expected you to be around too so i thought i could hang around." you simply smiled and a sting of jealousy struck san. he brushed it off, cool exterior back in place, "so how was i?"

"i think you're really good! i hope that your grades improve so that you can stand brightly on the court with no worries." the way you encouraged him effortlessly nearly had him buckling. just on cue, wooyoung materializes beside san, "sunbae! you came!"

"you called didn't you? i hope all that basketball didnt cause you to forget our tutoring session." you rolled your eyes as wooyoung playfully pats your head, "of course sunbae!"

san guesses he's thoroughly mistaken: you were also tutoring wooyoung.

why did he think he was the only tutee you had? for all he knew you had more than just wooyoung and him as your students.

wooyoung trundles away to get his gym bag and you followed him, all while san stands there trying not to be sulky. you picked up your schoolbag, grabbing your jacket, "san-ah, i'm going to go first."

pausing in your tracks, you waved goodbye to san with a cheery smile on your face, "don't forget our session tomorrow okay?" he brightens at your reminder (if he might add, a little giddy when you said 'our'), "okay...!"

you spun around and jogged to wooyoung's side and san wishes that it was him. maybe if he knew how to express his emotions better just like how outgoing wooyoung is, so that you could have that similar banter with him.

almost immediately, san smacks his face with his palms, eyes widening in shock.

no…now’s not the time to be distracted choi san!!!

— 4 months before

to make things easier for you, you begun tutoring the two of them in your home since they took similar subjects despite the being put in different classes. san was happy that tutoring sessions increased, but...not so happy that he couldn't have one-on-one time with you.

wait...since when did he care about that?

"i heard that you two had a mock test just this week. can i review your papers?" wooyoung confidently hands his over, "i managed to get into the top ten! are you proud of me?" you nodded your head as you flipped through wooyoung's papers. it wasn't long before your attention was on san, who was dodging your very gaze when you noticed the barely passing mark circled in red on his paper.

"i didn't do quite well." san admits, lowering his gaze. "it''s okay. you improved from your previous rank! small improvement is still improvement after all."

wooyoung interrupted and cheekily grabbed your arm, "sunbae! since i did well i can skip on today's tutor session right? see you~" without much hesitation wooyoung takes his own paper back from you and scampers out of your room. "his head is gonna inflate from all that pride i swear." you chuckled and san hides a laugh at your words.

"well now that he's gone, let's review your paper now, shall we?"

you sat him down beside you as you went through his mistakes and gave him additional questions, leaving him quite miserable at the end of the session. sensing his dejected spirit, you pat his back to comfort him. "sunbae, i feel bad because...i can't do well..."

san didn't know what came over him as he rambled on, stopping himself almost immediately because he thought he sounded silly. you grabbed his hand, that same enchanting smile on your face, "well...i'm here aren't i? i promised i'd help you to do your best so you can go for the nationals."

"but why do you want to help me?" san questioned. you shrugged your shoulders, "you're the coolest on the court!" san sputters, "huh? sunbae, don't joke with me!"

you shoot him a bashful smile, "to know that i was able to help you? that's more than enough. i don't need you to repay me; i just wanna see you fulfill your passions."

at that split second of a moment, when the sun was setting and you were basked in it's golden glory, san thinks he's falling in love with you.

— 3 months

"wooyoung, why do you keep hanging out around sunbae these days?" san randomly brings up, before shaking his head, "you know what? nevermind."

"why are you even asking me this question?" wooyoung's eyes never left the computer screen, fingers tapping rapidly on the keyboard to make his game avatar run and dodge.

san aimlessly scrolls his mouse about, "just...nothing." of course, being neighbors and all it would not be weird for san to witness the two of you walking to and from school together, to hang out occasionally together. that much is normal, but to what extend is it considered not?

wooyoung bursts out laughing, "are you jealous or something? do you like sunbae?"

san silence spoke volumes and wooyoung turns his head slowly, unbelief evident in his contorted face, "you have a crush?!" san slaps his hand over wooyoung's mouth.

"not so loud genius!!"

wooyoung gasped in shock, "no wonder you've been so...weird lately. it is certainly very unlike you and i guess this explains everything. like...everything!"

— 2 months before

san felt as if a whole boulder has been lifted off his heart at the realization that he likes you. that explained all the "unnecessary" heart racing moments when it was just you and him, all the times when he would "accidentally" detour around school just to walk past your class and "somehow" get a glimpse of you.

with this newfound appreciation, his grades also took a turn for the better because he wanted to make you proud. he started texting you about his day outside of school (wooyoung often left him on read), giddy with happiness when you replied to him with the same enthusiasm.

before he knew it, the semester tests were around the corner. san stood worriedly outside the classroom with his other classmates waiting to enter. he spots you walking hurriedly down the hallway and when his eyes met yours, he relaxed his tensed shoulders.

murmurs from his classmates increased as you paused in front of him, "i'm rooting for you. here's your lucky charm." you whispered, pushing something into his hand. as quickly as you stopped by him, you walked away to your classroom on the floor above his.

he opens his palm to see the pen, a grin forming on his face when he notices your name sticker on it. gripping it tighter in his hand, he enters the classroom with confidence.

— 2 month and 3 weeks before

"sunbae, do you have a good luck charm?"

"well, i don't have one."

san propped his head on his hand, "i need a good luck charm for the coming tests, just like what i have for my matches." he points to his bracelet, one made by wooyoung to commemorate them being friends in basketball.

"from me?" you stared at him quizzically and san flushed, parroting your question, "from...you?!" you two burst out laughing at the absurdity of the interaction. you calmed down enough to formulate a proper response, "i'll...maybe think about it...?"

san pouts at your uncertainty, "you're not going to give me one?" you lightly pinched his cheeks, "you're making it very hard for me to say no. i'll get you something, okay?"

"i'll hold your word to it sunbae!"

— 1 month before

"how did it go?"

you were huffing, having ran from your homeroom to san's classroom as soon as he texted you he got back his results. you found him standing outside the classroom: head hung low, hands clenched at his side. he perked up at the sound of your question and the sight before you nearly had you reeling.

"i..."

you waited with bated breath for san to finish his statement. "i...somehow did it..." he points to the ranking that was displayed on his phone, and in the picture you could see that his marks barely made the cut, yet because of the person after him, he was pushed to the top 25% of scores in his cohort.

"san! you did it!" you hugged him and he freezes in your hold. you pulled away from him, unshed tears in your eyes causing him to panic, "ahh! sunbae! why are you crying!!" san hurriedly wipes away the falling tears and you laughed, "i'm so glad all that hard work paid off, even if it was just merely there, you improved by leaps and bounds!"

"could have been the lucky charm you gave me. i brought it with me to all my papers." he mentioned and delights in the way you were tongue-tied at his revelation. "sunbae, why this pen though? is there anything special about it?" he pulls out the pen from his pocket, rotating it in his hands to examine it closely.

"if you really must know, it was the very first pen that i got with my own pocket money. nothing special, but i liked the fact that i worked hard to get this branded pen." you bashfully replied, taking back the pen from him.

he thinks you're really beautiful like this, and he finds it so difficult to not like you. he's thoroughly crushing on you now, even more so than before when he first met you.

"before i forget, san-ah, what's your wish?"

— 2 weeks before

now that san has earn the respect of his coach from his drastically improved grades, he's been staying back after school every day to practice till late.

with the ball dribbling beneath his palms, he relishes in his passion and determination that brought him this far.

"you're in great form, eh?" wooyoung teases as the two of them shoot hoops. "yeah, i absolutely missed this. back when coach only allowed me to come for tuesday trainings? that was such a pain!" san laughs, thinking about how he would linger outside the auditorium as he watch his teammates train with each other, while he had to get going to be tutored.

not that he minded, actually. deep down, he was glad for this break because after meeting you, he was reluctant to go back to this thrice-a-week club trainings. he immediately pushes that thought away, exerting force to fling the ball in wooyoung's general direction.

"did you get sunbae to come watch you?" wooyoung—who somehow has become his confidant for anything relating to you—wiggled his eyebrows and san's face warmed up, "yeah i managed to ask. and sunbae's going to be coming..." san embarrassedly hides his face behind the ball wooyoung returns and an uncharacteristic squeal leaves wooyoung's lips and he excitably hugs san, "let's go! my bro's got this!"

— D-DAY

"san! over here!" wooyoung hollers and san passes the ball over. with just about one more minute left in the last quarter, san was really feeling the physical and mental strain after the first 3 rounds. he needs to make the final blow that will pull his school out of the current tie they were in.

san let's his other teammates go ahead of him as he scours around for a wide spot with as little defense from the opposing team.

san's entire being awakens as his gaze lands on you in the bleachers; you were here for him. his eyes flicker between the court and you distractedly, watching as you looked around uncertainly, before deciding to just stand at the back, still within his line of vision.

"san!" surging with adrenaline he nods at wooyoung, who then swings the ball high up. this move he practiced countless times with his friends, coordinating down to even synchronizing their breaths and footsteps.

this is for you.

he takes a huge leap with arms held up. the moment the ball from wooyoung falls in his palms, he sends the ball hurtling into the net. heart beating in trepidation, he feels the second melting into one another as the ball dramatically lands in the hoop with a satisfying woosh.

"with that quick thinking, KQ high school wins the nationals!"

the whole auditorium was flooded with cheers, confetti and streamers floating down from the sky. san feels himself being lifted up by his teammates, wooyoung shouting in his ear about how crazy it was, but all he could focus on was you and your awed expression. pride blooms through him like a blossoming flower, and he thinks he could get used to having someone being there for him.

after all that congratulatory messages from his team, he makes his way to you, beckoning for you to come over to the side lines.

"you made it, sunbae."

"i'm fulfilling your wish, isn't it?"

san chuckles in acknowledgement, "it is my wish for you to see me in the nationals, but now that i won, i want sunbae to grant me another wish."

your nose scrunched up, the corners of your lips turned downwards despite the big smile on your face, "another? that's—"

"—sunbae, will you go out with me?"

@ppumeonae-bigvibe 's work ; likes and reblogs are appreciated <3

[torchickentacos]

Im here for your opinions on roundworms and parasites.

THANK YOU! Your enabling is always appreciated (and I think I have a pokemon ask from you that I lost in my drafts like six months ago????? I'll go find that later!) Here are some of my parasite opinions. Under the read-more because, re: last post's tags, this is not what most of you guys signed up for 😭

My main opinion- worms are, by far, the most interesting type of parasite, even amongst other endoparasites. Exoparasites are largely boring. Sorry to any tick or leech enthusiasts out there. Amoebas (and other protozoan parasites) are just okay. They were more interesting in season 2 of House MD than they are in real life, imo.

Guinea worms (draculculiasis) are maybe the most disgusting type of endoparasite, but thankfully they're incredibly rare. I'll keep it not-revolting but the removal process is disgusting, and not much gets to me but that does. When I was in vetmed classes back in like 2018-2020, I was the person who wanted front-row seats to literally everything, and despite that, guinea worms make me viscerally uncomfortable... but very fascinated. Heartworms are pretty high up there, too, and roundworms do get an honorary mention.

Not really an opinion but I need to know what kind of worm RFK JR has. I have been so darkly fascinated by this for months on end. It's PROBABLY neurocysticercosis, but what if it's something more interesting???? I have never wanted to see the full medical work-up of a politician more badly. I periodically check to see if there's any updates in the brainworm department. ALSO, it didn't actually eat his brain. I'm not a parasitologist but I'm like 95% sure that any worms that would have a presence in the brain would not actively feed on any organic tissue in that sense. It's probably a cyst caused by a calcified tapeworm larvae that damaged surrounding brain tissue. There was probably no actual ingestion of brain tissue despite claims and headlines. BUT IF THERE WAS, I WANT TO KNOW ABOUT IT. But nobody has a concrete answer.

If we want to talk about non-human parasites, then horsehair worms are a fun starting point! They infect insects and cause the insect to seek out water and drown themselves, and then the worm escapes in the water as part of the worm's life cycle. If you've got a strong stomach, go look it up on youtube. It's vile but SO interesting. The Green-banded broodsac is also a lovely little freak. It invades snail's eye stalks and pulses bright, strange colors to attract birds. The bird eats the snail (and the worm) and the worm uses the bird's droppings to scatter its eggs. It's some real freak of nature type shit and I love it.

Also not really an opinion, but I learned very quickly as a child that telling the other kids fun worm facts is not a great way to make friends, but on tumblr it works just fine!

[ken-dom]

Ken Comfort Headcanons

Ken x reader

Summary and warnings: a few headcanons of Ken being supportive when you’re in need of comfort. It’s Ken, so that does sometimes cross over into him being a little... obsessive. Also, I’ve tried to leave this ambiguous as to the time and setting so it’s up to how you want to read it! Includes mentions of kisses.

I originally posted this to my main blog but I'm re-posting all my work here to have everything in one place due to an unresolved tagging issue on my main

He tries SO hard when he knows you've had a bad day because he can't stand the thought of you feeling anything other than as perfect as he thinks you are

Will give you space but is never far away, usually watching from a distance just incase you need something he can provide

He’s so soft and gentle with you, brushing your hair while he tells you all the things he loves most about you to give you a boost

The list of compliments is long and far from exhaustive; he rarely gives you the same compliment twice and never runs out of new ones

Truly excellent at pep talks if you need one

Holds your face in his palms and looks deep into your eyes to tell you some variation of how sublime or brave or wonderful or kind you are, hoping you’ll believe him and trying to send some positive Kenergy straight to you via his intense gaze

‘Would you like to go for a walk? You can hold my hand…’

Of course, he walks you to the beach (after taking a moment to compose himself at the hand holding) to watch the sunset together

If you squeeze his hand he giggles or let’s out a delighted little ‘Ooh!’

After finding the perfect place to sit together on the sand, he lights a little fire to get cosy beside, smiling at you all the while, and asks, ‘Do you want to talk about it? Or you can just rest with me if that’s what you need?’

Either way, it ends with you laid together on the sand with you resting on his chest, listening to the soothing sounds of his heartbeat and steady breathing

You feel so safe and content with his strong arms wrapped around your shoulders and his fingers playing lovingly with your hair

There’s no rush. He’s content for you to remain silent or take all the time you need in talking to him. He really has all the time in the world for you

It makes his heart race a little to be so close with you, but he contains the feelings it stirs within him so that he can focus entirely on you

Does give you tender little kisses at least every five minutes though, just to remind you how wanted you are

He’s such a good listener. He usually hangs on your every word, but at times like these, it's not just that. When you need him, he is so supportive and always surprises you with new perspectives on whatever is bothering you

If you tell Ken a secret he will guard that secret with his life (but he may flex on some other Kens that you confide in him. He would be really proud of that)

When you begin to feel tired, he will walk you back home, eagerly offering his hand again. He always hopes you’ll invite him inside and to sleep over, but his main priority tonight is helping you feel yourself again

‘Would you like me to come in and read to you?’

He doesn’t so much read as look at pictures with you and excitedly read out the bits he thinks are most exciting, but his heart is in the right place and it warms yours to know that he wants to spend his free time making you feel better and not just vying for your attention

Makes you tea and tucks you in even if he’s not staying over, with one final kiss to your forehead before he departs

‘I’m your Ken no matter what.’

Literally does not sleep. Worries all night that you might not have sweet dreams or will wake feeling anything other than great

Will be back first thing in the morning with breakfast already made and a hot bath drawn for you, ready for when you wake up to make sure you’re off to a perfect start the next day

[redjennies]

i see you sometimes in different dragon age tags like "oh yeah the lae'zel fan with the redjenny url. who also likes oghren. extreme good taste" and then as an anders girlie i see your "anti"-anders post and im like "yeah they even have good taste in the way they hate my guy"

aw I really appreciate this! I'm really glad people like my takes on Oghren. I almost posted this long ass meta about him while doing my Brosca playthrough but ended up saving it to the drafts because I was like "girl you are the only person going to bat for this man and everyone else is just tolerating your right to be ornery about disliked characters." I just think about him at the Temple of Sacred Ashes a lot. to anyone reading this, if you've never brought him there, you are truly missing out on some fucking wild character work. he is a gem.

truthfully I'm not even really that anti-Anders when I'm not actively in a mood about how much this fandom annoys me. I'm extremely critical of him as a person and full disclosure, without trauma-dumping too much, I do have a personal history that makes it hard for me to not see him as very manipulative if not outright abusive. but I actually quite enjoy him as a character. I think he's got a lot of flaws and strengths that are really interesting to examine how they coincide with Hawke's larger story. how Anders and Hawke are arguably more intrinsically linked to each other than Varric and Hawke are. it might surprise people but I intentionally max out his friendship every time with my main Hawke because I think their particular story is more tragic if she has fully drunk the Anders kool-aid because he's the first unapologetic apostate she's met outside of her family and because he saved Carver in the Deep Roads and she feels like she owes him. even more of a surprise possibly, I love Sebastian and don't like Anders, but my canon ending is Hawke sparing him one last time and asking him to leave because I think that's the best ending for how I play their relationship. like "no, you have asked so much of me and I have done it for you over and over but I'm not going to give you this, even at the expense of my other friendships. you don't get the easy way out. you have to live with this and you have to do it far away from me." like fuck man! the drama! the poetry! the divorce!

honestly most of my vitriol towards him comes from over a decade now of having an extremely negative experience with what I fully recognize are not all his fans but a vocal group of people who plague the Bioware fandom who are just as bigoted as your average fanboy but in a way they can dress up as "social justice." I've said a lot about how I think the Circle and apostates is just straight up a bad metaphor for systemic oppression (see also: any setting with supers and/or legitimately dangerous monsters as stand-in for oppressed people.) and I won't get into it too much here, but it's worth mentioning because I believe the mage rights discourse and Anders particularly attracts this crowd because you know he's a cute queer whiteboy with legitimate problems and pseudo-radical politics. but I was in the DA Tumblr fandom when Inquisition dropped I remember what group of fans on Tumblr who were particularly rabid in their hatred towards characters like Vivienne and Sera (who are both critical of mage freedom, mind.) 'Twas not primarily the Cullenites calling Vivienne an Uncle Tom, no matter what people will tell you now.

and I also get that there's this way Anders haters talk about him that makes even more otherwise reasonable fans dig their heels in about him. like any critique of him that boils down to "Anders bad because he did a terrorism and terrorism bad" is not really useful to me because yeah, I'm not super keen on bombings as the best course of political action, but terrorism is a very politically loaded and at this point somewhat meaningless term that is mostly used to justify extreme violence against a person or group by the state. I don't need to bring up real life examples because the politics of who is and isn't labeled a terrorist being shorthand for who is and isn't a person deserving of basic human rights has become so obvious over the last three decades that everyone knows at least one example of what I'm talking about. on top of that, I'm a big believer that fiction does not and should not exist in a vacuum and good art should provoke discussions about how we view people who do similar things that these fictional characters do. who are we being asked to give empathy to and who are we not? who are we naturally extending empathy to and who are we not? how do we immediately feel about these things? are we outraged? disgusted? moved? does sympathizing with these characters change our understanding of our personal ethical lines? are certain actions justified under dire circumstances or are there certain lines that should never be crossed? are people forever defined by it when they cross said lines? etc etc. none of these questions can be meaningfully answered by "no, thing bad because thing bad."

that being said, I still come down on the side of Anders is a shitty person at the end of the day. not because he blew up that church or even because he tried to kill that girl, but because there's a consistent lack of compassion for the suffering and/or oppression of others the second someone doesn't fit his mold. because he's honestly pretty sexist and racist in universe. because his romance plot is just a series of progressively worsening red flags in a way that's in my opinion, less sexy and more like he's gonna start punching holes in the wall right next to you. because he's lowkey a tankie. and I've said it before and I'll say it til the day I die, we can have a discussion about how ableism influenced his writing, but at the end of the day, as a mentally ill anarchist, I know buckets and buckets of mentally ill leftist whiteboys who act like this. shit I know women and nonbinary people who act like this too. while I can understand that Bioware wasn't necessarily coming from the same perspective I am and think people are right to call his overarching storyline a tired centrist liberal take on the dangers of radicalism, his character writing still feels not only coherent as a character but very true to a particular type of ain't shit anarchist boy I have encountered over and over. i cannot dismiss his flaws and worst moments as bad writing because I feel like I personally know this asshole.

for example, I once made a post about Dissent years and years ago where I was talking about Anders/Justice/Vengeance/whoever we're calling him depending on what's most useful in the moment's outburst of violence towards Ella through the lens of male entitlement even in leftist circles and like yeah I was being a little tongue in cheek about it because a) I'm pretty tongue in cheek in general, b) I have a tendency to get even more tongue in cheek when I'm talking about things that hit a little too close to home to me, and c) that quest is frankly terrifying if you've lived a life that makes you relate more to Ella in that scene than to Anders. I think it was something along the lines of "people can call Anders a revolutionary all they want but when a mage girl was afraid of him instead of grateful for his rescue, he tried to kill her. [insert anarcho-feminist ranting here]" and I remember someone arguing with me about how that's not what happened at all and how even though I was being pithy, their take on the situation was so utterly removed from what occurs that I had to go back and watch the scene to make sure I wasn't the one completely misremembering it which made me realize just how much Anders has been completely rewritten in parts of the fandom consciousness.

which in and of itself is not really a problem. I know some people just don't care for interacting with fanon at all and want to stay as true to canon as possible and I'm like that sometimes, but there are lots of characters I'm like "oh, I don't like how their story went in canon or think the writer had a neat idea but is too misogynistic to handle her in a way I like and I'm going to basically put them in an AU where they developed their traits in a different way and I can recognize this is more or less my version of them." there's characters I don't care for in canon but I love someone else's fanon version of them. I'm even fine with people doing this with Anders, if they want. I've read really good fic with him that is not my take but hey you do you, this is what transformative fandom is for after all. but I do get more than a little prickly when I'm interacting with my reading of canon that is of course informed by my experiences but still discussing something that just literally happens and someone tells me I'm wrong because of what basically amounts to their fanfics, you know?

anyway that's my very long post about my complicated and extremely nuanced Anders feelings. great character, shitty person, his fans are either really cool or really fucking not. also it's been almost fifteen years, and I still think we should've had Jowan in DA2 as a familiar face helping out in the mage underground to both flesh them out more and to serve as a middle ground between the more circle-aligned Orsino and the initially representing the mage underground before getting progressively more Kaczynski-esque, Anders, instead of Cullen just kind of hanging out in the templars not really doing anything.

[bardic-inspo]

2024 Writing Retrospection

Tagged by the lovely @amoremagnificentbastard 💜

What's been your biggest learning point this past year?

Don't wait until you're done with X to write the Y thing you've been dying to get to. Don't kill your own joy by forcing yourself to earn the fun parts. Write the fun parts now. Write them whenever and however you want to. Start as many things as you want. You don't have to finish everything you write for it to be worthwhile. Some stories are stepping stones for you to find your footing to the things you've wanted to work on, deep down.

How has your writing developed this past year?

I've been steadily working on becoming more concise and building my dialogue skills. I do still like to wax poetic on the tangible aspects (and I often have a lot to say, case in point hehe), but I'm proud with my progress. I think Aeterna Nostalgia in particular is a good example of this, especially compared to other longfics I've written. I think it gives my writing a better balance than it had in the past. I plan to keep working on this!

Good writing habits?

I think I've gotten better at gauging when to hunker down and when to take a break! And about taking time between when I stop editing and when I do my final, pre-posting read-through.

Bad writing habits?

My inner editor never shuts up. I have a love-hate relationship with it, because I do think it makes me write at a painstakingly slow pace, but in some respects, it saves editing later. I do wish I could shush that instinct a bit more.

Favorite thing you wrote?

Both of my Ascended Astarion fics, Aeterna Nostalgia and Blood in the Mortar. I don't see many portrayals of Ascended Astarion in the vein I depicted him (and I pretty much instantly devour those fics anytime I do), and so with these fics, I felt sort of like a kid in a candy shop getting to write the exact sort of thing I wanted to read myself.

Favorite reads?

Oh god, so many! Too many to count!

Since I mentioned not seeing too many Ascended Astarion fics in the flavor of him I typically like to read, I thought I'd call out some amazing writers who've written a dark and devilish A!A who still loves Tav/Durge/his consort. These are fics that, in my opinion, handle the complexity of A!A very well, and don't shy away from his darkness while still honoring all of the elements that make Ascended Astarion very much still Astarion. Many also feature a consort/Tav/durge/main character who can go toe-to-toe with a power-tripping Ascendant.

Sonnet of the Lone Cardinal by @brain-rot-central

Death & His Maiden by @pinkberrytea

Hell & You by @ladymdc

How Far You've Come & No Good Deeds & Magic, Music, and Mazes by Garnett Gibson

By Proxy and Oblivion & Obsession by @alcetryx

(*This is no shade whatsoever to those who write a more corrupted A!A whose affection for Tav is twisted, I just personally prefer the flavor I described. This list is, of course, non-exhaustive, and just features some of the fics I happened to read that I wanna throw more love on!!)

Biggest win?

About a year ago, I was brand new to a new fandom. I hadn't written in ~6 months or so. I'd never written anything besides Fallout fanfic. I had a lot of self-doubt, and felt like probably no one would read anything of mine, anyway. I felt like I was already late to a party where everyone had already made friends/servers/connections and fanon had some well-rooted opinions.

But now here I am, a year later, having made some amazing friends and met so many kind people who inspired me and encouraged me personally and creatively. I'm not self-doubt free, but I feel like I've found a space where I can write what brings me joy, and I get to be giddy about that with others. That's huge to me. That's everything.

Goals for the new year?

To keep working on the things I strove for last year: write what brings me joy, write semi-regularly (3-5 days a week), work towards being concise, and to write lots more Aeterna Nostalgia!

Your favorite words of the year, aka the words you check each chapter for, making sure you didn't repeat them 788 times?

OOOF I have a lot of these hehe. Off the top of my head, some common offenders include breath (like stealing/holding/catching a breath), jaw clenching, and the words 'fleeting', 'briefly', and 'tender'.

What are you excited for in the new year?

Reading more good fic, writing more fic, and getting to be giddy with friends about it!!

Tagging in turn: @electricshoebox, @brain-rot-central, @ladymdc, @dismalzelenka, @wilteddreamsofbaldursgate,

@elinorbard, and @marlowethebard if you wanna do this, no worries if not! 💜

[wexhappyxfew]

Shannon please put this on a backburner if you're busy (and I mentioned this in the tags of my last reblog) but in your last Benny/Margie fic you said, "she tumbled in, clinging to Major Cleven's jacket" and a protective Buck being the first one Margie sees is a *need* if you've got the inspiration. -- @softspeirs

KATIE!!!!! @softspeirs it has been a minute since you sent this in (much longer than i intended), BUT, i have since written up my interpretation of this little moment. not only do we get a hint at the friendship between margie and buck (!!!!), but we also get some hints of margie x benny in there, too. enough where benny has his freak-out moment (and equally valid moment). this was honestly so much fun to write - from beginning to end. exploring connections i haven't been able to previously, so thank you so much for that!!! i sincerely hope you enjoy my interpretation of buck cleven!! <3333

heard you the first time

(a/n): the 'before piece' of this margie harlowe piece, featuring the friendship of margie and buck, a smidge of margie x benny, and the rest of the crew in the stalag, complete with annie bradshaw and bucky egan as rising stars. by far one of my favorite pieces to write and develop and dig into. a bit of a warning for some heavier topics, as margie is clearly going through a difficult mental battle, along with trauma that she has since experienced and gone through. thank you all for reading! please enjoy! :)

The deceptive nature of a war was something one could easily have as hard of a time getting used to; nearly as much as a simple card trick or removal of a mask.

Dealing with the aftermath of such was something no one was inherently ready for.

The fragile form that was Marjorie Harlowe, stumbling in the main gates of the Stalag was something far from the reality Buck Cleven had hoped to see upon Lieutenant Harlowe turning up - better yet, her turning up alive.

From Buck's position behind the barbed wire fence, the farthest he'd ever felt from a member of the 100th, despite her being just 50 feet away, at the entrance of the gates, had his blood pumping and his worry spiking off the charts.

There was something about that distant look in her eye as she looked around warily, trying to keep herself up on her own two legs, her clothing in the poorest condition he'd seen any of the women come in with, and a look on her face that evidently displayed whatever horror she had been through and had to both see and witness.

Buck had always kept an eye out for Margie Harlowe ever since they crossed paths before heading out for Greenland - a run in near the bar where groups had gathered and news had spread that an all-female B-17 crew was being immersed into the 100th. She was almost like a younger sibling to him and if anything, allowed him to bring out a looser side of himself than normal.

The group that was coming in now looked worse off than the last groups had been - at least they'd been able to confidently stand on two feet and move their limbs. This group looked beat to a pulp, half-stumbling, half-falling just to keep themselves from looking weak in front of the unfamiliar and unknown. The yelling of names around him was nearly going to send him over the edge as he pushed to the front of the group and braced as the barbed wire came in contact with his form. Pressing forward, the crusher cap on his head tilting side ways, he cupped his hands around his mouth.

"Harlowe!" he yelled, his voice sounding more hoarse than it had in recent days, "Harlowe!" Buck was able to watch, through a strained gaze, as Margie managed to pull her head upwards from the ground and get a glimpse in a general direction of the voice. Just at the sight of him it seemed, she collapsed and Buck's heart leapt into his throat.

"Margie!" Buck yelled, his voice causing others around him to snap shut quietly, his eyes turning to the second set of entrance gates.

Immediately, he was pushing through the layers of people pressing themselves earnestly against the wire and wood, desperate for a look to see if a friend had survived, a comrade that had since fallen from the sky just like the rest of them.

Hurriedly looking over his shoulder as he pushed through the crowd of pilots and American men, he could make out one of the German soldiers standing over her, yelling and spitting, harsh German spilling down upon her - he wanted her to get up. The German kept poking her with the muzzle of the rifle as she lie there.

"Get up." Buck whispered to himself as he pushed through towards the second entrance gate, which slowly opened, allowing the new wave of arrivals to flood inwards, "Get up, Margie, please."

Buck rounded around half of the swinging gate and watched as Margie rolled herself on her side and tried to push upward. She looked exhausted, entirely depleted of herself and who she was; nothing more than the shell of a human with the instinct to survive. It broke Buck's heart to even have to see someone, a human being, like that in this very moment.

"Harlowe!" Buck called as he pushed through the new arrivals, moving past swinging arms and shoulders, side-stepping and keeping his eyes on Margie there on the ground.

"Up! Up!" the German yelled over her as Buck moved closer, "Get up!" In an instant, the German kicked and a blood-curdling scream ripped out of Margie's mouth.

Buck felt himself freeze for a split-second, his entire body growing cold as he watched the German do it again, a weak whimper from Margie to follow as tears trailed down her dirtied and bloodied face, her gaunt cheeks matching the bloodshot tint of her eyes, her hair, once bright and blonde and lush, now short, hap-hazardously cut and filled with scraps of dirt and mud. Buck watched as the German went to kick again, but Buck couldn't take it.

He stepped forward.

"Harlowe!" he yelled, quickly falling to his knees, watching as the German froze there, watching him with wide, stone-cold eyes as Buck's hands made contact with Margie. He noticed her flinch at his touch, her entire body reflecting the pain and the past all at once. Buck lowered his head and watched as Margie's eyes cracked open in fear, her breathing erratic, her body trembling.

"Margie, it's me. It's Buck Cleven." he said quietly, reaching forward to gently move his hand under her head to get her up, "You gotta stand for me."

"B-Buck." she managed out quickly, her hands frantically scrambling for his arms as she let him help her to get herself situated, before clinging to him like a frightened child, weak cries coming from her lips as Buck held her as tight as he possibly could, looking towards the German.

"Move." the German spat, taking a step closer, "Out!" Buck stared back at the German coldly, watching with a steadiness he hadn't been able to scrounge before and bit his tongue, holding back any words that could make the situation worse than it already was.

Buck's mind seemed to feel a million miles away as he began to take on the reality of the situation.

Margie.

Margie Harlowe was barely alive in his arms and he needed to get away from this German before they were both dead and more importantly, get her to a bed, to a quiet room, filled with people who'd fight the end of the war just to keep her alive.

Benny DeMarco.

Buck's heart clenched at the thought, knowing Benny was already mulling things over with others making conclusions about it all. How Margie had been thought to be as good as dead just 24 hours ago, when it had been over two weeks since a new Silver Bullets arrival. He couldn't imagine the horror on the rest of the mens' faces, nor Bradshaw, Farley or Carlisle. He could imagine Annie Bradshaw - hot on his heels, going through hell and high water, causing a storm to blow up - he knew she'd have someone's head if it weren't for the fact they were prisoners in a camp made specifically for them.

Annie Bradshaw was going to lose it - and the fact Buck was even struggling to maintain composure was a sure sign.

"Margie, we gotta move, you gotta keep yourself awake." Buck whispered quietly, moving his eyes in the direction of the second gate, "Keep moving."

"Buck." whimpered Margie, her tiny fists balled in his jacket as her legs flopped about, her limbs depleted, any energy she had once had gone. God, it scared him beyond compare seeing one of the Silver Bullets women like this - so far from the person they once were.

"I'm here Margie, I'm here." Buck said as they passed the second gate and he started for the bunkhouse, "You gotta keep your eyes open."

"Buck." Margie managed again - his name, she kept repeating it over and over - like convincing herself this was real, that he was real. He placed his hand on her side of her head, pushing it against his inner shoulder to stabilize.

"Buck," Margie managed, her voice pained, "t-they hit me, Buck. They h-hit me all over." Buck's blood ran cold at her words, legs nearly stuttering to a stop as she said those words.

One could take a few guesses as to what had transpired before Margie Harlowe had arrived, but with her current state, Buck's heart fell. And it fell right to his feet, causing his grip to loosen and his mind to twist. He stopped with Margie there curled into his side and looked down at her, grimacing and whimpering into his side, trying to stay on two shaky legs.

Anger hit him first - anger for her, with the Germans, with this war, with how the Germans had left her, her current state and condition.

Guilt coursed next - he would never be able to protect them all - all the 100th, all the Silver Bullets crew, the very people in this group of people here now. 1943 and a stalemate for the war and nothing would ever seem to change.

"It hurts. So much." Margie whispered, her voice cracking, "Everywhere." Buck couldn't take it.

"Margie." muttered Buck, getting a better grasp on Margie, "We gotta keep moving, Margie, get you in the bunkhouse. Where it's safe. Safe, alright?" A weak whimper seemed to escape her lips as she curled against him, as if to hide away in whatever comfort him and his heavy overcoat could provide.

Oh Annie Bradshaw was going to lose her mind.

Coming upon the bunkhouse, Buck felt Margie's grip on his coat and arms tighten as she looked upwards at the building.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head frantically, shoving at his arms, as if to try and break free, "no, no, no, NO." Pulling herself out of his grasp, she flopped onto the ground weakly, before moving to curl into a ball.

"Margie-" Buck started, scrambling to crouch beside her on the ground, where dirt now had smeared upon the clothes hanging off her body and her dirtied, bloodied face, "Margie, you'll be safe."

"No, I can't." whimpered Margie, writhing like a wounded animal, "I can't, please don't make me." She looked up at him with barely opened eyes, peering at him through glossy tears and bruised cheeks, her lip quivering, hands grasping at the Earth to grab hold.

"No one in there will hurt you, alright, Margie?" Buck said, placing a hand on the side of her face gently, bracing as she flinched at the touch, "Annie's there, Farley and Carlisle, too. We got a whole crew of our guys in there." Margie continued to shake but grew quiet instead.

"I promise you, nothing in there will hurt you." Buck repeated, watching as recognition attempted to flicker in her gaze. Buck's mind began to race a little.

"Let me help you up, okay?" he asked her quietly. She stared at him, flush to the ground like dead weight.

"I can't let them know what they did to me." Margie whispered softly, her voice trembling, "I can't let them know."

"Who's they?" Buck asked her quietly back, ignoring the looks of others passing by, their lingering gazes catching on them here on the ground.

"Them." Margie whispered, "Those people that held me captive until the Germans came for me. Caught me like a wild animal, tied me up to a wall and left me with nothing but darkness and the cold." Margie's eyes welled with tears. "You can't let them know."

"Who know?"

"Them." Margie whispered. She either wasn't making sense or Buck's mind was going, but all he knew was that she needed to get inside and he needed to keep her talking.

"Let me help you stand." Buck said again and Margie, this time nodded. Buck reached out, grabbing her frail arms, and slowly pulled her to her feet, placing her promptly upwards, before wrapping an arm around her form and nodding to the bunkhouse.

"I promise you'll be safe in here," he repeated to her quietly, "I swear to you." Margie looked up at him, with such a profound fear and sadness in her eyes that he felt his heart rate begin to pick up.

"C'mon." Buck said quietly, slowly nudging her forward. As they moved up the steps, Margie began to cry from beside him, each painful little breakage of emotion that slipped out of her, causing his insides to twist in a sickening way.

What had happened to her?

Moving down the hall to their room, Margie began to slip from his grasp, her legs giving out from under her as she clung to his coat and his form, her shaky body nearly bumping into every bit of wall as they moved.

As they came to their door, Margie holding onto him like life or death, Annie Bradshaw came over the threshold. And her eyes immediately went to the sobbing Margie Harlowe hanging off of him. Buck saw a glint of anger flash through Annie's gaze, something he had grown accustomed to after a few officer outings and conversations at the flying club. But then there was grief and sadness and something else he was sure he'd never fully be able to grasp.

Before Annie came to them, she leaned back over her shoulder and yelled back into the room.

"Someone get some warm water and a towel! Get some soup going, open up a bed!" Annie called, before looking forward again, her face growing with horror by the second.

"Wait, what's going on?" Brady's voice called from inside, as other sets of eyes began to appear, looking their way or moving to look through the doorway.

"It's Margie-" Buck began to hear people say, bodies bustling and beginning to move, the glimpse of a frozen Kennedy somewhere by the stove as she stared, numb and with tears in her eyes.

"What happened?" Annie asked as she stepped forward and slowly looked to peer at Margie's eyes.

"I don't know." Buck managed out, swallowing as Margie's grip tightened.

"Margie? It's me, Annie." Annie said, reaching forward to place a hand on her flight engineer's back only to be met with Margie flinching and beginning to cry again.

"You can't make me." Margie cried out, causing heads from inside to turn and look towards the door, "You can't make me go in there!" Annie met Buck's gaze; he felt helpless in all the ways there could be. He was half keeping Margie standing and trying to usher her in the room. She was in near hysterics, with no one having a clue what had happened and simply being in need of the ones who cared for her most. And she didn't want it.

"You'll be safe in here, Margie, it's Annie. Annie Bradshaw." Annie said quietly and desperately, keeping her voice low.

"They're in there," whimpered Margie, shoving her face into Buck's coat as he kept a firm grip on her tattered A2, "they're in there, I know it." Annie looked to Buck again who clenched his jaw before keeping a steady hand on Margie's back.

"Margie, you have to go in the room," Buck said, "you'll be safe."

"No, please, don't make me do it!"

"Who is they?" Annie asked quietly and Margie froze. Her body shuttered, as if preparing to scream, but instead she looked over at Annie with wide, bloodshot eyes.

"They tried to kill me, they were trying to kill me-"

"Hey, hey, hey, what's going on over here?" a voice called from down the hall. Buck looked away from Annie and found Bucky and Benny coming down the hall, some potatoes in hand, confused looks on their faces.

"If anyone tried to kill anyone here, I'll-" Bucky stopped mid-sentence, just as Benny came up beside him with a content look on his face only to freeze, "Margie."

For a moment, it was completely silent as they all stood there. Buck watched Benny the most - the way his face dropped completely, his eyes immediately all over Margie - her clothes, her scrunched face, the tears on her cheeks, the mud plastered upon her clothing, the blood. Buck saw it building on Benny's face - the anger. His blood boiling.

"Benny-" Buck started, only to watch Benny grit his teeth, eyes flaring wide, the potatoes in his hands slamming to the ground.

"What the fuck is going-"

"DeMarco." Annie snapped, stepping forward, placing a hand on Buck's arm, "You need to calm down." Annie dropped her voice. "She's terrified." Benny stared at Annie, his eyes darting over Annie's shoulder again only to refocus again.

"What the hell happened to her." he said, more of a statement, rather than a question, his eyes blazing to Buck, who stared at him. Benny was going to start losing it. Margie's grip was tightening.

"We don't know," Annie said, glancing up at Bucky who was now looking into the bunkroom, meeting the eyes of Kennedy, "but raising our voices and arguing is not going to help in any way, shape or form, so I highly suggest every one of you shuts your mouth." Annie met each of their eyes before looking back to Margie again.

"We can settle her in my bunk." Annie said quietly, before looking towards Margie again, "Hey, Margie, you ready to get some warm soup?" Margie was quiet standing there curled into his jacket, quivering, he could feel her trembling.

Buck took a slow glance at Benny, watching as the Captain's shoulders rose up and down in a pounding fashion, evidently upset and angered all at once, his emotions in a multitude of directions.

Captain Benny DeMarco wasn't one to lose his temper like this it seemed. But, in this moment, Buck could take two guesses as to the fact it was about to happen.

"I can't." Margie managed out, her voice hoarse, throat sounding raw with emotion and tears to follow, "Please, I can't, they're in there." The group went quiet around her, as Buck glanced upwards to Bessie who had come forward with a hot towel, Hambone behind her with a spoon, Brady appearing with a blanket. What had to hurt the most was that these were all people standing around her now that had cared for Margie for months before this. Some for years. Yet, they were almost unrecognizable.

"That's it-" Benny started, before starting to turn, unclenching his jaw and pointing towards the door, his footsteps becoming quick.

"Benny-" Bucky started, but was quickly cut off.

"What the fuck did you do to her!" Benny yelled, his footsteps beginning to move down the hall, his voice echoing off the sodden wood, Buck's eardrums ringing with a clammer.

"Benny, lower your goddamn voice!" Bucky called to him, moving from the group, forcefully grabbing Benny's shoulder and pushing it back, "You're gonna freak her out more!"

"They did something to her, Bucky, they did something to her and scared the shit out of her and-"

"Listen, you gotta calm the fuck down-" Bucky started in. Buck turned his head slowly away from the rumbling scene and looked to Margie, landlocked onto his jacket still. The hour was desperate.

"Don't tell me to calm down-"

"You get any louder and you're going to freak her out even more, ya hear?!"

"You two have to shut up." Annie yelled, raising her voice the loudest he'd ever heard her do so, "If you need to be yelling so much, go find a different wall to bark up, okay? We don't have time to listen to you two right now." Both Bucky and Benny stopped, staring each other down.

"Don't go making more problems." Bucky said calmly as Benny stared coldly.

"Then they gotta stop doing stuff that make me want to." Benny answered, narrowing his gaze. Buck slowly turned his gaze back to Margie and watched as Annie slowly placed a hand against her cheek, gazing into her eyes in the most calming and present way. To let her know she wasn't alone and that these were people that cared for her. Right here.

"It'll be okay, you can stay in my bunk," Annie said quietly, before glancing at Buck, "I can take it from here." Buck nodded, watching as Annie took hold of Margie's hands, taking them into her own before Margie was latching onto Annie, trembling and shaking, eyes unfocused, as Annie led the two of them into the room.

He watched, like a stagnant figure, as Brady came forward, wrapping a blanket around Margie's shoulders before guiding her over towards where Annie bunked out, disappearing from his line of sight.

Buck set his eyes on Benny, now looking towards the doorway where Margie had disappeared into, his eyes a mixture of contempt, torment and sadness. Bucky was still there, standing in front of Benny, hands on the Captain's shoulders, as if letting go would unleash the chaos Benny was still holding back.

"Benny…." Buck said closing the space between him and the two of them, coming up on Bucky's side to look at the Captain's face, "calm yourself down before you go walking in there, okay?" Benny watched Buck, his gaze narrowed, jaw clenched, shoulders and neck filled with a tight tension.

People that had been peering out of other bunkrooms to see the commotion, were now turning away, moving to leave out the door, or going back to minding their business. It was relatively quiet and calm. And for once, silent. Buck continued watching Benny.

"She's freaked out enough as it is," Bucky started, "did you hear what she was saying-"

"I heard every goddamn word she was saying, what happened to her?" Benny said quickly, leaning forward towards Bucky, "I'm gonna kill whoever did that to her-"

"Benny." Buck said, reaching forward to place a hand on the man's shoulder, "We'll figure that all out. But for now. What you gotta focus on? Calming down. You gotta keep it in your mind - Margie is here and she's alive. Albeit, we wish in a better situation. But she's here, with us, safe for the moment and alive." Buck watched him. "You freaking out won't help us out anymore. And scaring her further isn't going to do us any good." Benny looked helplessly towards the door again before looking back at Buck.

"She'll be okay," Bucky said quietly, patting Benny's shoulder, "you got Annie Bradshaw in there ready to tear the eye sockets outta someone it seems. Margie's in good hands."

"Yeah," Buck agreed, a small smile on his face, "she looked ready to go out there and let someone have it." Benny managed a slight smile on his face, the worry and concern that had been hidden by anger, beginning to emerge on his features. Buck could tell Benny was at a bit of a loss for words other than expletives, along with feelings he couldn't quite reel in.

"I shouldn't have lost my temper-"

"Benny," Buck said quietly, offering a slight smile, "just go in there, do what you can to help. We'll all make sure she feels safe and comfortable, okay? She's here now." Benny nodded at his words before letting out a deep breath.

"I'm real sorry again-"

"Benny." Bucky said leaning forward a smile on his face, voice low, "Pick up your goddamn potatoes, shut your mouth and get in there." Benny couldn't seem to help but manage a small smile at those words, dropping is head before glancing upwards at Bucky with a smile.

"Yes, sir, alright?" Benny said, before turning, gathering up his potatoes and pausing by the door. Buck watched as he took a deep breath, before stepping inside. Buck grew quiet beside Bucky, eyes still trained on where Benny had been standing before entering, before Bucky nudged his shoulder.

"What the hell do you think they did to her?" Bucky asked him, his gaze narrowed, eyes set on the doorway and his face like a stone. Buck glanced his way and set his jaw firmly.

"We'll let her rest, get herself back in order. Give her time." Buck said, "But I don't know…..whatever happened, clearly it was enough to convince her that it's still happening." Bucky let out a low whistle and righted his feet before crossing his arms and leaning up against the opposite wall of Buck.

"You think they did something to her?" Bucky asked, tilting his head, anger pooling in his eyes, "I think Benny was onto something, I could shove their heads right down into the dirt-"

"Bucky." Buck said, shifting his weight as he watched him, "Now, you're sounding just as bad as Benny."

"You see the look on her face?" Bucky asked him, "They touch any one of those women, and they're dead." Buck knew there was no use arguing, especially when truer words had never been spoken and rightfully shut his mouth.

"C'mon," Buck said, nodding his head towards the door, "she needs us." Bucky slowly pushed up from the wall before following towards the bunkhouse doorway.

"I swear to God, Buck." Bucky said pausing to look at him, jaw clenched.

"If one of those officers comes in and messes with any one of us, you'll have their head," Buck said, a slight upturn of a grin on his face. Bucky watched him. Buck gave him a pat on the shoulder and a smirk.

"I heard you the first time."

[konako]

did you ever see any red snowing fics??

i’m back on my ouat bullshit after about 5 years and i remember a tumblr blog along the lines of traumatising emma

i’ve read most of your fics and thegirl20’s fics again and i just need ruby lucas content

You need Ruby Lucas content, you say?

YOU CAME TO THE RIGHT PLACE. LET ME SHOW YOU AROUND.

@traumatizing-emma Is the blog to go to, for Red Snowing content, as far as I know! Here are a few of my faves.

You might also find something in my Red Snowing tag. Not much, I'm afraid, I haven't explored this trio as a romantic possibility (a... poly-bility. hah!) in a while!

You can always try my Partner In Crime's blog: @lovecanbesostrange.

Kat is every bit as unhinged and as obsessed with Ruby Lucas as I am — make no mistake! —, the only difference is she has the decency to keep her spiraling off main. Plus her blog has considerably more variety, while I'm a one-track-mind gal. She's also the MAIN CULPRIT behind some of the MOST devastating Red Snow feelings one can have.

Check her Red Snow tag(s) for the complete experience. But for the more polished (published) pieces, let me interest you in her AO3 work:

Four times Snow is on top and one time she isn't

I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free

Keep you safe and warm

But if it's Red Snow pain that you're after, then Safe Cage is your destination. Look no further. This story might break your heart. (Red Queen is the romantic ship, btw!) I have had several meltdowns about Safe Cage. On main. Look the other way.

If Ruby Lucas Meta is more your speed, check out my maniacal rants tag. But also look out for Kat's tags under any Ruby post!! Some of the best commentary in the business!! The brain in that skull should be studied, but wait until I give back the single cell I borrowed.

Short Fics Inspired by a tumblr post? Or fics to dive into for longer? @foxofthedesert is your person! Their writing has a fantastic, rich flavour I can't get enough of. Seriously, this author has put together sentences that have made me gasp. You want to read something you can taste, smell, hear and picture? Read their work. We're blessed to have them!

Also, back when I was being unjustly blamed for getting people to watch OUAT again, I listed a few of the people in the fandom that were also responsible for the collective relapse. You can check them out. I'm sure they remain a gateway drug into the OUAT world, even in 2024.

I do have more recs for you, depending on your specific needs! But since you mentioned Red Snowing first, I tried to stay in that general area. Feel free to reach out again, if you need something else. I'm always here to help. I can't leave. I'm stuck.

[thelingering]

a little about me

*voice* hello!! I see you've found my blog

I post and reblog random stuff here, and this is my favourite child of my accounts (I mostly use it for the most personal posts of mine)

here are the others if you were interested!

@themovementsoflife (photography)

@naughtsimpossible (poetryy)

@thespeakinglingering (talkers)

@thecatholiclingering (my very Catholic blog)

@lingeringthesecond (my reblogs 'cause everything was so muddy)

@poetic-song-lyrics (a blog dedicated to the lyrics of the world that just work, run by my very good friend @saltedcaramelchaos and myself)

wow I have a lot of side blogs

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anyways, I'll start by telling you what we're all about here, and we can be on our merry little ways:

first I need to tell you something: it is greatly appreciate and encouraged to spam like/reblog my posts if that's what you desire, and I will always derive joy from seeing you on my dash

next then I suppose, I've never felt comfortable giving out my real name, so you can call me whatever your heart desires! you'll notice I call myself Lingo a lot though, 'tis a very lovely nickname on of my best friends cane up with (I'm he/him though); also I'm a teenager :D do with that what you will

random but I am. half-Irish and born and raised in the US, pretty much everywhere in this grand country other than the South honestly

I'm a devout Catholic (pro-life all the way, and we don't condone any sort of hate on this blog), and some of my favourite activities include playing my guitar, talking with people, and reading!

I also enjoyy:

poetry

writing

music

making music

cats

talking with my friends

dogs

people

my bed

music

learning new skills

the Red Hot Chili Peppers

music

meeting new people

writing

flannels (MY BELOVED)

and others! (I can't remember all of them)

I also take a large interest in languages and etymology, and I hold it true that my linguistic spirit animal is Youtube user 'etymology_nerd' and my Linguist Best Friend Who Blows Me Away is @saltedcaramelchaos ^-^ (hehe get tagged)

I'm actually currently attempting to translate the phrase "You (all) are my beloved(s)", both plural and not, into as many languages as I can muster! the Big Post for that is here

the variety of music I enjoy is far too broad to list here, but let's say anything but bad country (although I do especially enjoy The Arcadian Wild, the Red Hot Chili Peppers, the Dirt Poor Robins, Jack Johnson, Green Day, Jim Croce, dc Talk, The Oh Hellos, and others)

I'm not sure what all I'll post here, or what accounts will get made over time, but I'll be sure to update this as things happen

The paragraph above this one has honestly just been left here for nostalgic reasons, this blog is mostly the one I use to talk with people/to you all lol :D

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some tags I'm currently using:

#catholicism and/or #catholic stuff --- my Catholic posts on main :3 #lingo gets infused with bluegrass --- anything that I post about while I learn how to write and play bluegrass music #tag: eg pd lb --- my liveblogging of the Late, the Great, and the COLEEEEEE STYLEEEEEE Prime Defenders from the JRWI team ^-^ #the talkies tag --- posts that are my talking to you all :3

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okay, that's all!

if you want to talk with, chat with, or ask questions about, me I'd be more than happy to!

now you may be on your merry way, I've held you long enough

stay strong out there

wait, one more quick thing

make sure you fill up your body's hourly coolant with water and don't forget a routine fuel refill, I'd hate for you to run out of gas halfway through the day

also specific person mention: ak if you see this I can confirm you're an amazing person and I love you a lot 🫵 if you impact everyone's life half as much as you have mine then. well. actually I'm sure you have and do, you're the best ^-^

ok now byee!!

[mrs-apocalypse]

Hi! How are you? I hope you’re doing okay!

I have a few questions about your game theory series! 🥳 First of all, it’s the first fic i’ve read in months because i kinda stopped reading after awhile since I couldn’t find anything that caught my eye as a reader, some fics started to feel the same to me 😭 I saw yours on twitter and I thought it was really interesting. and it didn’t disappoint!! 🤩

My questions are: Are you following the series’ plotline or book? Or are you creating your own universe(?)/plotline? I mean will you include the events in the series and the book in the future? Safehouse, torture, coup etc? I feel like your story is different than any of I have read so far that is why I wanted to ask😭 Very unique plot! I have to admit I never thought Pete became Pete since neither the book or the series mentions it. He was the main bodyguard and Tankhun’s and Kinn’s most trusted bodyguard, but how did this happen? 🤔 So your story is really refreshing!

Second question: I know many authors might not know the ending of the story they write since it comes as you write, but will it be happy ending or sad ending? 😭 May I ask you could you tag if there’s a mcd before it happens🥹 Third question: will we be seeing Vegas and Macau in the second book again? I think we’re getting closer to ending right?

Third question: how did you start to write this story? Was it something that came to your mind and started writing? Or was it something more planned?

Last question: what will the last book’s name be? And what would you say about the theme of the book? Is it more angsty?

I am sorry for the mistakes, English is not my first language. So I have to think in my own language and translate it as I write🥲

And I hope I am not too annoying. Please feel free to tell me if I am. And please skip the questions you don’t feel comfortable.

Have a nice day 🥰

Hi there! Wow, thank you so much for your question! I'm so so glad you've enjoyed my story. It makes me so happy that you like it so much! Also, please do not apologize for your English skills. I think your English sounds great and even if it wasn't, it's still impressive to speak in a second language!

As for your questions:

Question One: I plan to follow canon nearly 90%. I did my best to make Prisoner's Dilemma a prequel that would make logical sense with the canon story, so that is what I want to continue in the next book (Trolley Problem). That said, I will be adding some things. As much as I adore Kinnporsche, I think VegasPete's storyline would have done better with some expansion. For example, I think that the safehouse arc would have been perfect if there had been just one or two more scenes, or if the time Pete spent at the safehouse were just a few days more. So, while the story will mainly follow canon, I'll be taking some liberties on what 'happened' during the time we didn't see in the show!

Question Two: I know exactly how this story will end! I always know how my stories will end before I write them and I also never like to write a sad ending. To me, angst is the most fun to write, but only if there's a worthwhile ending to reach. It will be happy, and what I think is an appropriate ending for the all characters in the show (if you look back on my profile, you'll see that I think certain endings from canon aren't appropriate 'happy' endings for characters). But I think what I've planned will be pleasing to everyone!

Question Three: Second book is finished as of today, and it ends with a nice little scene between our favorite brothers. To be honest, any scene with Macau is my favorite to write (that's VegasPete's first son!).

Question Four: So, there's lots of reasons I came up with this story. First, I love Pete dearly, but there is so little known about him and the more I know, the more I just don't think he fits with the main family. And so to me the most logical conclusions was that he would have had to learn in a harsher environment (sans his father). I also love reading fics with Vegas being obsessed with Pete, but I do't see that logically happening unless there was some grand event that put them together, and so I was like 'what if Pete worked for him first?' Just. UGH, I think that a lot about their personalities and obsessions with each other can be explained much better with a backstory like this!

Question Five: The last book will be called 'Dictator's Game', which I think says a lot about what the contents is. The theme is basically 'What really happened between Korn, Nampheung, and Gun?" and how that affects the boys in modern time. Aka, Theerapanyakul War 2.0. There will be angst, but universally. And VegasPete will not have any extreme fights between them because I wanna focus on them being the sanest couple in the bunch.

Please let me know if you have any more questions! I love love LOVE getting to talk about my fic and also just VegasPete/Kinnporsche stuff in general!

[ask-whitepearl-and-steven]

Hey chekov uh, not to pry or anything, but in a post a few weeks back you mentioned something about Japanese people not believing LGBTQ people live there and I'm just wondering. Like what? How... bad is the bigotry there towards LGBTQ folk

You've caught me at an unfortunate time - I'm really not in the mood for writing a huge essay post on the topic. I would direct you to my main blog to peruse the tags and see my old posts on the subject, but... those are now out-dated by a few years.

There are far too many aspects to this question to answer it simply, or briefly. There are varying attitudes towards the people who fall under the LGBQTA umbrella - and just like in the states, depending on where you are, what you do, what you look like, and what you identify as, your experience will be completely different.

I recommend trying to search it up and read other people's personal accounts they've already written - preferably people who are LGBTQA themselves and currently live in Japan and are therefore qualified to comment - as that will be your fastest way to discover a variety of viewpoints on the subject. I understand that I am technically one such person, but I am not able to slap down a brand new blogpost on command, so you'll have to go digging.