#i need them for more than just cosmetic reasons or else i would not be dealing with this lmao

[basiltonpitch]

why are braces so expensive jesus fucking christ

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for suggesting that my friend (A) NOT focus so much money into her little brother's (B) top surgery?

their family, while not toxic or abusive, is a little more close (or enmeshed?) than i ever was with mine. and thats great! it works for them and i love how much they care for each other. but A is 25 and married, significantly in debt, has a kid (on purpose) and her husband hasnt earned that much in the years since he went straight from high school to the work force. he now has a job getting like 25-30 an hour i think, but still thats not a lot for their situation. she had a salaried job (about 30k/year) but it wasnt working for her and she decided to quit. which i totally support, the position wasnt great for her and she wasnt great for the position. if she hadnt quit, she woulda been let go. she's looking for new jobs now.

anyway, all this to say, they are NOT flush with cash. and yet, every penny they have left after basic needs is being put toward B's top surgery- before even paying down their debt.

i especially want to know if i'm the asshole in a transphobic sense, because part of my reasoning is that B is a super skinny kid, and only 15 years old. he has an A cup at most. and the family had to jump through a million hoops to get permission or whatever for him to get his top surgery as gender affirming care.

i've brought up the idea that maybe B waits till he's 18 and gets it as an elective/cosmetic procedure, because the cost will be about the same to do that versus to get it as gender-affirming care under insurance. and that gives B time to save up his own money, and his family more time to organize their finances and contribute their parts. but A never seems to give a direct answer for why their family is so set on B getting his surgery before he's 18. of course i believe he should be allowed to by law and he shouldn't have has to go through so much trouble.

but B works summers only, at a low-paying job (ive worked the same job when i was a teen, it isnt enough to save up much) and is depending on his family for all this, even though his sister (A) and parents are all in rough spots financially. A just seems so stressed about money and i wonder if i'm the asshole for thinking she should just focus on her and her little immediate family for a while till theyre back on their feet. its noble and caring to be so invested in B getting the care he needs, but it's hurting A's finances, mental health, and family stress levels.

of course at the end of the day, it's none of my business. i'm A's friend, not life coach or money manager or anything else. i'm just curious what the aita voters think about all this. if i were to push the issue and make suggestions, would i be the asshole?

What are these acronyms?

[agent-cupcake]

Flashbang

Chapter 3 - My Ugly

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

Pairing: One Piece Live Action Buggy x f!Reader

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

Word Count: 7.8k

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

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

x

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You froze. “Captain?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Clothes?” you asked.

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

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

Except that it wasn’t. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, sir.” 

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

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

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

“What?” 

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

“Does any of this have a point?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really? I didn’t notice.” 

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

“Why would I?” 

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

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

“Ask you what?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Um… I’m… I don’t…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sweet dreams, babydoll.” 

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

But you didn’t want to think about that.

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

Except for once. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Were you supposed to wake him up? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I-”

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

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

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

Buggy blinked at you. Then he burst out laughing.

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

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

“I am.” 

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

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

“With one eye?” he asked incredulously. 

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

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

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

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

“Yes, sir.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you looking at?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Captain Buggy, I wasn’t-” 

“Get out,” he demanded. “Right now.” 

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

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

But he didn’t. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I have more,” he said, unconcerned. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Because you… What?” 

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

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

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

“What?” you asked, dismayed.

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

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

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

“Go?” you asked softly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your reaction made Buggy erupt into hoarse, drunken laughter. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And to serve, you needed to sleep.

[fluffle-writes]

TWST x Various Fandom Crossover Thoughts

I've been chucking various TWST guys into various universes in my head to see what sticks - these are the results! I'll probably post some more. I'd also be super happy to hear your own thoughts on what character + universe pairings would work well in your opinions - so feel free to share your own thoughts in my askbox or by tagging me in your own posts!

Potential Spoilers For: Sky:Children of the Light, Little Nightmares 2, Hunter X Hunter

Sky:COTL - Kalim Al-Asim

I feel like a good candidate for someone to end up in the world of Sky could be Kalim! Since he has many siblings, he would probably get along well with the ever-curious Skykids. I wouldn’t be surprised if he could even match their energy given how he often acts in TWST. Some Skykids would definitely try to trade candles for his ‘cosmetics’ if he ends up in the other world while in his dorm leader uniform.

He would definitely be seen as a moth by more experienced Skykids once they see how he struggles to fly after receiving his first Winged Light and forms his cape, He didn’t even go over to it the moment he saw t! Only brand-new moths don’t know how important gathering Winged Light is! They’ll need to help lead him through the realms! (Only Kalim keeps making many more friends and ends up in a Very Large group when they finally reach the final realm lol)

I can also see him being perseverant enough to make his way through the realms to Eden and find his way home to TWST via the help of the Elders – OR by making his way through the last part of Eden and finding a way home in Orbit.

Who knows, maybe he’ll bring a few blessings home too – gifted to him by the Light Children he traveled with.

Little Nightmares 2 - Ruggie Bucchi

Hmmm… While my mind jumps to Ortho because he looks younger than most of the TWST cast – I feel like Ruggie would be better suited to surviving the harsh challenges that the world of Little Nightmares has to offer. In this scenario I’m going for the typical Isekai scenario of ‘character ends up as buddies with the main character(s)’ – and I can certainly see Ruggie taking Six and Mono under his wing as they make their way through the pale city.

With his skills, he’d likely be able to assist the kids with more challenging parts of navigating the city or fleeing from dangerous beings (such as giving them boosts for climbing into the hospital, or speeding up the process of lifting the shotgun in the hunter’s shed.)

I feel like he’d have a few close calls, and would definitely be more understanding of Six’s actions in some of the later parts of their journey than some fans of the game are – you've gotta do what you can to survive in a place like this, and Six is just a little kid.

Unfortunately, he eventually ends up being split off from the group near the end when Six drops Mono in the ending and maybe ends up dragged through some type of portal back to his home world.

Hunter X Hunter - Lilia Vanrogue

For Hunter X Hunter, I thought about it for a while and finally settled on Lilia being the most interesting TWST character to send into the world. I mean, think about it. Old man who has two surrogate sons encounters a quartet of boys who all probably need A Goddamn Father Figure.

Gon is the obvious one – kid is looking for his deadbeat dad so I can see Lilia tryna fill that position himself. Not to mention that Killua would likely also end up under his wing due to him and Gon being practically connected at the hip. He also has similar eye and hair colours to Silver – and Lilia has experience handling really powerful kids/teens via raising Malleus, so minding Killua would be a cinch.

Kurapika is the reason why I wanted to select Ace, Kalim, or Lilia for this crossover idea. Primarily because the whole deal with Kurapika being the only survivor of the Kurta clan, and the fact that Lilia has red eyes may catch him (any anyone else who may know of the Kurta clan) off guard. Not to mention, Lilia’s eyes may make an encounter with the Phantom Troupe more interesting…

IDK much about Leorio, so I’m not going to talk at length about him, but I feel like Lilia may have a joke or two to crack about how Leorio looks older than his age whereas Lilia looks quite youthful. There could also be a funny little moment where the others ask Lilia how old he is and Lilia is all ‘wouldn’t you like to know, weather boys.’

(Also RIP to the judges of the cooking portion of the second phase of the exam lmao. Lilia’s cooking would make Buhara keel over hahaha)

[monstrousproductions]

Would it fuck with your licensing to put up ad-free season albums on Bandcamp or an ad-free RSS feed on the Patreon/Ko-fi? Pocket Casts skip buttons work fine, Acast just has terrible taste in ads (podcasters shilling for AirBnB and ads for cosmetic injections, to name a couple) and blast you after the more reasonable volume of Monstrous Agonies.

It's not the license that's the issue - it's the lack of hours in the day!

I don't know how an ad-free RSS feed works because I haven't looked into it - off the top of my head I think the RSS feed itself is hosted on Acast so I'm not sure how it could be ad-free? However, looking into it would take time that I'm more likely to spend on something else.

I've done my best to avoid the worst of the ads by opting out of anything military, gambling, or mental health related (just say no to Better Help!) but Acast don't make it easy to tailor what kind of ads get put on your content.

For the volume issues, that's actually a problem with how MA was originally mixed. As a baby podcaster, I made the show far quieter than industry standard.

In a dream world, I could hire someone to remaster them all (and perhaps update the credits and show-notes so they're pointing at the right website...) but that's not in our budget atm. So unfortunately, most of MA is mixed much more quietly than your average ad.

Every episode of MA is already up on Patreon, and I don't think it's even behind a paywall. However, they did all go up as separate posts rather than an RSS feed, so it might be a bit more of a faff to listen to than a podcatcher.

With regards to Bandcamp, I've never looked into it - again, just a lack of time and attention to spare! We're about to take two weeks off from Travelling Light so perhaps I'll find time to look at that then, but I'm making no promises just because there's also a bunch of other stuff that needs to be done during that time (including planning the next 8 weeks of TL, working on our marketing/promo stuff for that, and the ongoing process of transferring the MA transcripts from the old website to the new one)

I appreciate you asking, and am always glad to hear of new ways to make the listening experience better. Unfortunately I'm basically doing all the back-end podcastery stuff single-handed and there's just not enough time to get to everything - or enough money to pay someone else to get to it!

[fayeandknight]

Buying a car is bullshit

I am very seriously trying to buy a new (to me) car.

I need a bigger car to fit crates in since that will allow me to transport more dogs for boarding. I have opted to go the used route for a number of reasons.

After much research, input from some super helpful dogblr folks as well as coworkers, and some dragging my feet - I'm ready. I'm looking to buy a 2018 Toyota RAV4 XLE.

I found one being sold at a fair price given the low mileage and went to see it last Saturday. It was a trade in at a BMW dealership. When they brought it out I was a little taken back because it's pretty dinged up. Not to the point of hindering functionally but there are dents and scrapes on every panel and fixing it would $1000 in body work easily, if not more.

Honestly, I don't give a shit about cosmetics. This car is for hauling dogs around. But it would be silly to pretend it doesn't change the value of the car.

I noticed that the front tires were different from the rear tires and asked about it. Sales dude tells me they replaced the front ones because the originals were dry rotted. I asked if the mechanic measured the new vs the old because AWD can be sensitive and different widths can fuck it up. Sales dude tells yes, it's all on paper. Cool.

I take it for a test drive and notice the brakes are a little rough. I ask if the brake pads were inspected to see how worn they are. Sales dude assures me yes, the car passed inspection and they're fine. Am told, again, it's all on paper.

Once we're back at the dealership I ask him to please get me the info on the tires and brakes cause I'm ready to make a deal and buy the car. Sales dude asks for my price and I tell him my offer is contingent on the information so please get it. Guy comes back with a manager and oops, they don't actually have that info.

Which honestly really pissed me off. You lied to my face and what? Didn't think you'd get caught not having the very specific information I'm asking for? I don't know why I expected slightly less car sales bullshit from a higher end dealership but the jokes on me.

I leave with the agreement that on Monday (today) they'll have the mechanic get the info and call me promptly at X time. An hour and a half later, I ended up leaving them a voicemail.

Finally got on the phone with them, tires are fine but the brake pads are just this side of passing and I'll need to change them fairly quickly. Fine. Given the body work and brakes, not to mention all the fluid changes I'll need to do, I put in my offer - a little less than $1000 off listed price. This puts the car at just my side of a good deal rather than fair, but honestly not by much.

They eventually accept my offer. Awesome. I am ready to pay over the phone. No. They won't take the payment over the phone or even a deposit. I have to come buy it in person.

In an ideal world, I'd go Thursday morning and get it done before work since that's my late day. But I'm concerned about the time wasting tactics dealerships use to try to get people to "upgrade" packages. I am trialing Friday and Saturday.

That leaves my only actual day with time to spare next Monday. During the in between they will not hold the car for me or pull it from their listings.

It so fucking frustrating that a high end, fancy ass BMW dealership is giving me the run around for a busted up six year old Toyota that I am willing to pay for right now!

So, fingers crossed it's still there next week and I'm able to buy it. If not, oh well I guess. There's really not anything else I can do at this point. It's just annoying because if they had the information they said they did I'd have bought the car right then.

Anyway, let this be your reminder to not take car sales folks word for anything and make them show you on paper. They will lie right to your face and blame you for holding up the sale.

[oceangirl24]

Happily Ever After...Almost

The mood the next morning was subdued, for as much as the trio wanted to get home and relax before heading back to school, none of them wanted to leave Lancaster and the anonymity it provided.

No one wanted to return to pretending they weren't a family.

Breakfast was lackluster compared to the days before. As much of the leftover food was eaten as possible before cleaning and packing up. Once the truck was loaded and they were about to get in, Shawn had a sudden burst of anxiety about leaving.

What made it worse was that both Jon and Audrey had the same sense of foreboding.

Shawn stood several feet away from the truck, hugging himself. "I think we should go to Mama's and skip the apartment," he said somberly.

"I can't," Jon said as he tossed Audrey's hair and cosmetics bags into the back of the cab of the truck. "George is supposed to call this afternoon and I told him I'd be home by noon."

"So?" he said grumpily, not happy that Jon made plans that put them on a specific timetable without telling him. "A lot of unexpected things happen when you go outta town. Make somethin' up."

Jon shot him a disgruntled look as he walked around to the driver's side. "I'm already makin' a lot of stuff up," he huffed. "I don't wanna add anything else. But maybe I can drop you and Aud off at her place and go back on my own."

"Oh, no," Audrey said as she shut the door to the cabin behind her. "We have to go back to school tomorrow and separate until you can talk to Mr. Feeny about us. I don't want to split up early."

"Yeah," Shawn gnawed on the skin around his thumb and refused to move. "I don't wanna split up either. We need to stay together."

Jon opened the truck door, then turned around and leaned against it. "Well, look, let's go back to apartment and as soon as George calls we'll go to Aud's, spend the night. We won't even unpack the truck."

"Yeah, I guess." Shawn shifted uneasily. It was a good plan. A decent compromise. He had no reason not to go along with it.

But something in him resisted the idea completely.

"It'll work out. We'll be okay," Jon said with more confidence than he felt. He couldn't understand the foreboding that hung over the truck. "I was kind of hopin' I could talk to George about us this afternoon. Get it out of the way."

Audrey and Shawn exchanged apprehensive looks, then stared silently back at him.

"Well, the guardianship papers will be signed next weekend so we should get that done as soon as possible," he explained.

"Yeah. You're right." Audrey gave Shawn's arm a squeeze and nodded towards the truck. "Everything will be fine."

Shawn looked down at his plans, then closed his notepad and stared out of the window again. The sense of foreboding grew as they entered the Philadelphia city limits.

Audrey sensed this and Shawn and Jon's growing discomfort, so she distracted them by getting them wound up over the Rangers' offseason foray into the playoffs they just barely made. Both happily took the distraction, loudly complaining and chirping each other to the point that by the time they made it into the building, the emotion of the friendly teasing had overridden the intense anxiety.

As the little family made their way to Jon's apartment, each one tried to reassure themselves they were just feeling depressed after the weekend because it didn't make sense that anything would be wrong at home.

Audrey was sure her feelings were also caused by her resistance to pretend she was just Jon's student teacher again. It was different with Shawn, as he was often, jokingly, called her son by other faculty members. But she hated having to watch Jon get hit on and say nothing.

At least he wasn't dating anymore.

Shawn's concern was that someone would be waiting for them in the apartment. His guess was it would be either Mr. Feeny who got their whereabouts out of Mr. Williams or Chet who showed up and decided to take over the apartment.

He didn't want it to be either one.  He hoped Jon would have the chance to talk to Mr. Feeny before they got caught.

Jon could find no logical reason for his feelings. He figured, at the very worst, they'd find Eli camped out on the couch because he couldn't get past Mrs. Dubchek and her advances.  He really should have told Eli he was going to be out of town over the weekend. While Eli would give him a hard time, George was the one he really needed to talk to about what was going on.  The sooner the better, as it occurred to him just how quickly the week would pass, and it would be Saturday again and the paperwork that he'd been holding onto for so long would be signed.

By both him and Audrey.

He couldn't wait to see Shawn's face when he realized he was getting two legal guardians.

As soon as he got the apartment door unlocked, he caught Audrey by the waist and Shawn by the shoulders. Hugging them close, he pushed the door open with his foot.  Laughing, they awkwardly struggled through the narrow space together, angling Audrey in first while he and Shawn briefly got stuck in the doorway. The whole thing struck them as ridiculously funny as they fought to maintain their footing as they entered their home.

Tears clouded their vision, and it took a few minutes for their sight to clear. When it did, the trio froze in horror, unable to move.

None of them could process the scene in front of them.

Someone was waiting for them.

But it wasn't Eli camped out on the sofa.

Or Mr. Feeny and his disapproval.

It was Katherine.

Read the Rest:

AO3 FFN Wattpad

[oh-no-another-idea]

Find the word tag

This one comes from June, by the lovely @artdecosupernova-writing -- thank you, pal! I'm looking for these words both in my new 2nd draft of Invisible Girl, and also a bit in the older stuff too :)

Leak and Combine:

Velia stepped closer to it, watching carefully in case she might need to bolt. The large stature of the cars combined with the inky night had her pulse rabbiting faster than she would have ever admitted. Velia reached out and ran her fingers over the gold paint adorning the passenger car before her. The train’s name, the California Limited, soft to the touch like a lucky charm. The train made another sound like a leak let out from a tire.       Velia left her fingers there and nothing bit them. Maybe she and the train would get along alright.

Heat:

“You[r Gift is to] feel body heat?” “Yes.” “Then perhaps you’re wondering why the room has gotten warmer?” Antonio asked, grinning broadly now. Velia, understanding, only shot him an amused eyeroll. Fred nodded. “Yes. But occasionally I can get thrown off by the newer equipment—machines that output, or the radiators. I thought—” “Fred,” Antonio said grandly, “Have you ever imagined a Gift that would render the Gifted invisible?”

Mirror:

Her first most treasured possession lived in her right coat pocket. A small circular mirrored cosmetics compact, the powder side long empty. The lid was worn down from years of being carried and stroked, and the catch stuck a little; it nearly always took her two tries to open it.

Leave:

“I’ve got a huge house, no one will notice if one more bed gets slept in. I’ll hire you too—carry my briefcase, Velia, you’ll get full medical leave, great wages, the whole package, I swear it.” [Antonio's] enthusiasm was infectious. “I’m handling myself just fine,” Velia protested. She didn’t really have a good reason for protesting.

No pressure tags for @sarandipitywrites @inkovert @kaiusvnoir @winterandwords @drabbleitout @magic-is-something-we-create @akindofmagictoo @imbrisvastatio @daisywords and anyone else who'd like to look for the words frost, north, glass, and pretentious <3

aaand @sleepyowlwrites an Antonio spotting, should you be interested 😌

[honourablejester]

So. Out of curiosity, given recent events, I was looking at Pathfinder 2e, just to see what it felt like. And, being me, I decided to do this by seeing how easy/difficult it would be to port my homebrew deities over to it. And the results were … interesting.

In that it is not necessarily easy to port deities over, but for a rather cool reason and in a cool way. Apparently, if I am understanding things correctly, your deity is functionally your subclass as a cleric in PF2e? As in, you get a couple of spells from your domain, sure, but you get more spells, an ability increase, a skill, a weapon, and your Divine Font all from your deity. You also need to match your deity to your alignment, and your deity gives you edicts to try and follow and anathemas to avoid if you don’t want to face consequences. Your deity is, essentially, your subclass.

(I’m not ignoring doctrines, I’m just mentally thinking of them more like warlock pact boons? Actually, PF2e clerics are reminding me of 5e warlocks in a couple of ways, really)

It's actually … Honestly, I find that really cool? From a worldbuilding perspective. Now, I can see from a player POV how it might feel quite restrictive, particularly the alignment, edicts and anathemas, but from a story-expressed-in-mechanics POV … It always slightly bugs me in DnD5e that clerics of completely different gods who happen to share a domain will be mechanically identical. You can have, for a random example, a Trickery cleric of Asmodeus and a trickery cleric of Garl Glittergold, and they’ll play the exact same way (mechanically, not counting RP). Your deity, to an extent, is kind of a cosmetic choice beyond domain. But in Pathfinder, your deity is distinctly more crunchy and involved, and I do kinda love it.

It does make porting homebrew deities from DnD5e to PF2e a bit more involved. I am going to work on it, just to see what it’s like, but already I’m having to think about a lot more than the alignment and domains of 5e. Though that is … in one sense it’s fun as a worldbuilder, because a lot more of the deity’s ideals and values and pet peeves are represented mechanically. It’s cool. Working out their domains, their edicts, their anathemas, their boons, their abilities/skill, their spells …

As an extension of this, can I say, there’s some really gnarly spells in PF2e. I’ve no idea if they’re good or not, but for ideas alone there’s some spectacular stuff. For Nalashtar, the plague goddess, for example, I was browsing both Blister and Grisly Growths as potential options (I think Grisly Growths might be the one). Absolutely disgusting, but thematically amazing.

The only downside is, again if I’m reading this correctly, the spells given to deities need to not be on the divine spell list, because deity spells don’t work like DnD5e domain spells, where clerics get them as extra prepared spells a day, and instead are more like warlock patron spells, where they’re options that the cleric can prepare, but they don’t get them always prepared for free. So if a deity’s spell is on the divine spell list, it functionally gives the cleric absolutely nothing extra, since they already had that spell as an option to prepare.

This is a bummer, just from a thematic standpoint, because I read the spell Quick Sort and instantly wanted to give it to Alatee. Is it useful? Not a clue. But it’s bang on for theme. And, yes, she has it anyway, in the general sense that her clerics can use it, but it would have been so good to have it front and centre in her bio to remind people. Oh well. If I make a cleric of Alatee, I’ll know it’s there.

This is definitely turning out to be an interesting exercise, whatever else. Heh.

(Sidenote: I’m getting my PF2e info from the Archives of Nethys site)

[thecurioustale]

I Have a Fanatical Stance on Conventions of Body Appearance in Visual Media

In the timelines where I end up making movie, TV, or video game productions of my work, I have always had a list of several defiant guidelines that I will never compromise on, no matter what—even to the point of not making the movies if it comes to it. (Nor am I kidding about that.) Here's the list:

Body size norms for male and female actors = gone. In particular, I want to dispel the ghoulish reality we live in where female actors' upper arms look skeletal and their shoulders look almost juvenilely narrow; and, on the male side, those equally emaciated male actors who look like they're being tortured just as much as the female ones to eliminate virtually all their body fat, while also being forced to have comically broad shoulders and horrifying, steroidal musculature on their arms and torsos (and sometimes thighs). I really hate to use the word ugly, because that's not fair to the people who naturally look that way or deliberately want to look that way and work to achieve it. But I will say that the norm of imposing this shit as a societal default in our media absolutely is ugly.

Body diversity = the new hotness. I don't just mean I would make all the characters fat. I really do mean "diversity": I would ensure that my casting operation selected for a variety of body sizes and types, both within and on top of any my preexisting descriptions in written form.

Female beauty stereotypes like cosmetic makeup, big boobs, and high heels = begone! Just like it says on the tin. It blows my fucking mind that still to this day our media show female characters in war zones / apocalypse conditions / etc. in full lipstick, eyeliner, lash extensions...it's just ludicrous. Makeup for the camera, which all actors receive to "correct" for the biases of being filmed, I would keep, but the cosmetic makeup as a female default is gone. Only if characters (of any sex!) would actually want to wear cosmetic makeup, and only in situations where it would make sense for them to do so, would they be filmed in it. Same goes for the high heels. As for big chests, there would be some of that on the grounds of body diversity, but it would no longer be the norm, and bra padding for size or shape would not happen (again, unless the characters themselves had in-world personal motives for doing it because they wanted it as a part of their own look; that is night-and-day different from the production forcing it onto the characters as a meta-narrative).

Height diversity = lovely skylines. There's been a long trend favoring tall actors over short ones, and male actors are always cast as or else portrayed to be taller than their female counterparts. This artificial uniformity would be gone in favor of a natural variety of body heights.

Body hair = natural by default. Characters who would actually want to wear their hear differently (for aesthetic reasons more so than to conform to social norms for the sake of avoiding scrutiny) would of course continue to do as they liked, but no longer would this be the default. Waxed chests, sculpted beards, shaved pits...it's all an artifice of social convention. Nothing wrong with it, but neither is it the natural state of our bodies, nor is it inherently superior. We need to normalize body hair in our social conscience again.

Splotches, blotches, freckles, warts, and moles = back in business! This stuff is erased for no good reason. Societies hold onto these stupid norms of erasure out of a misapplied phobia toward the appearance of "sickness," and out of a powerful bias toward conformity.

I feel very strongly about all of this, and especially about the body size stuff. I'm really not kidding or exaggerating when I say that I would not sign any movie, TV, or game contract that did not guarantee all of the above. I do not want to participate in the cultural bigotry of homogenizing human appearance. I do not want to participate in the erasure of marginalized bodies, or the lie that what is popular is also better. For me, the items on this list would be as central to the purpose of my works as the actual contents of the story.

[lavenoon]

So we have the hostage scenario for Eclipse, which makes Sun n Moon race over to help...

But what if something similar happened to Sun and Moon? Either a hostage situation or they get supremely hurt on the job. I'm thinking like, damage they need help repairing (maybe Robin doesn't know enough to be able to help, or is also recovering, or etc etc)

Or even worse a hostage situation where the invaders feel the need to harm Sun & Moon to keep them pacified. Would they attempt to get a voice memo to Eclipse as well? Or would there be a different method they would use to get information out?

I can easily see this being resolved before Eclipse get's there/get's information about it as well. So he gets to the after-math n helps out with that instead. Maybe even speed-running a reveal if we're not at that point yet in this timeline/scenario

-G

These are more scattered thoughts rather than just one cohesive scenario like with the other ask, my apologies. (Still long af though, lmao. 2.3K words)

Anything they need help with regarding repairs, the agency definitely has covered - in First Aid, Sun/Moon insisted they can handle repairs themselves, and the agency only sent the parts, but if they were damaged to a point where they couldn't do that anymore (but are still salvageable) the agency would cover the repairs.

In cases of "technically resolved, but will need time to go back to normal" (like First Aid!) Sun/Moon do tell Eclipse - and that's a turning point in their relationship, actually. I thought about it before, and people from the server may recognize some of this ask, because it's maybe only marginally relevant to this ask but I like it and I think it's important to say actually.

Intermission regarding the repairs of First Aid specifically:

Sun and Moon did tell Eclipse. Not the day of, but the day after - after that talk with Robin, because before that they were just. preoccupied. They do almost consider sweeping it under the rug, but the hypocrisy doesn't sit well with them. So they agree to tell him, and lead with tons of disclaimers of how they're fine, the agency paid for replacements, everything vital came in quickly and it's all good, but uh, they may have been caught in an explosion

Eclipse... doesn't take it well. and he's kind of surprised, honestly. he didn't think he'd care that much (because sorry yall, he may be sad boy but he's he's also still salty af boy and has not been the friendliest either - all for good reason ofc, but at this point he's also still kinda flipping between trying to reach out and "well screw you too i don't need you"). So why does he care? Especially considering that 1) they said they're fine, and 2) he has lost more arms than his brothers have fingers. And every time he's made a point out of obviously not caring except to whine about fidgets or dropping things, while Sun/Moon roll their eyes at him and pretend they aren't more bothered than him.

So why does it bother him now, when it's them? They didn't even tell him immediately. They've been weirdly quiet for about two weeks then, and he's gotten no explanation out of them, and now he hears that they got blown up and he didn't even hear until it was resolved. He definitely feels shut out again, but the concern actually makes him ask. What's going on on their end? What's happening?

Sun and Moon, in the daze of "had extremely cathartic heart to heart with y/n, and hey, look at that! communication can be nice!" don't even hesitate and tell him.

"So the rival and the landlord we told you about may have been the same person. we found out, and before we blew up, everything else around us did metaphorically already. Sorry we've been quiet, we've just been trying to keep this from becoming an even bigger mess. We've talked, though, and we're fine. We're still waiting for a few cosmetic replacements, but we're back to fully functional"

Eclipse reads this once and relief settles in, along with that weird feeling of "huh that was much easier than expected, normally they're so cagey." Then he reads it again, and gets stuck on sentence one.

"... How is that even possible. How did no one realize. You've been talking about the same person?"

Before Sun/Moon can answer, another message follows:

"Against popular belief, I can read the room however. I'll refrain from outright making fun of you for it for the next week. After than, it's on"

The brotherly venom that follows is back in all their comfort zones, but does go on longer than usual. They go back to their previous amount of contact, with perhaps just a slight upwards trend (and a definite upwards trend once the week is up).

Eclipse does get to ruminate on his own injuries then, too - he doesn't even get full coverage by the agency anymore, because he had to be reminded of lab safety one time too many - they sat him down and told him to either do things exactly up to code, or accept partial out of pocket payment for the risk he's willingly engaging in. He chose the latter.

But if he's thinking about how he didn't even learn about it immediately, is he any better for purposefully waiting a few hours for things to settle again before letting them know? It's always a casual "ah just got home, thought id let you know" message, or before Sun/ Moon transferred he simply showed up after work and shrugged them off. Sun and Moon haven't been his emergency contacts in a while, either.

But it's lonely.

They had some straightforwardness now, some communication, and now things are improving - so his hope regrows with a vengeance (so does Sun and Moon's, especially when things with y/n also improve. Turns out the lesson "communication is important" learned in one important relationship can be generalized to your other important relationship, too!)

So that's the turning point for the brothers in canon - which translates into drastic differences in reaction pre- and post reveal in regards to a hostage situation.

(Intermission over, let's return to your actual ask)

Pre-reveal, Dusk/ Dawn may think of getting a message out to Eclipse, too - for the same tactical reasons that Eclipse thought of, too. He’s an agent, of the same agency, and it’s simply an efficient way to get information out as quickly as possible to resolve this fast. They don’t usually text him while on the job, but carry their respective phone anyway, so it’s not too much of a hassle. (But it’s already a sign for Eclipse that something is wrong, they never text him on the clock, and they very much are supposed to be working). 

Same as Eclipse, they don’t expect him in the rescue party. 

But - looking back to how Eclipse reacted to resolved danger, scared and upset - how is he supposed to react, hearing this? Dusk/ Dawn may not be as lighthearted as Horizon in the same situation, but they aren’t scared - so he only gets to hear his calm and collected brother, whichever is out. Dusk more snappy, Dawn more charming (in a murderous way). They get to the point quickly, and are technically more used to high stakes situations such as this, despite their limited experience as agents. They’re at least field agents. Dawn in particular knows what questions to ask, and how to ask them. 

Eclipse has a harder time to argue his way into a direct transport to their location. He doesn’t think to threaten his position, but he’s just so entirely genuine in his approach - they’re his brothers, he needs to go check on them. Whether the agency helps or not - but if they send help anyway, why can’t he join? He’ll be back to work sooner, too, if they send him instead of forcing him to arrange it himself. The logic is sound, and he gets the express travel. 

He doesn’t have an eclipse mode to dive back into, he is Eclipse. But the memories of the mode that made up his early life - they’re at the forefront of his mind the entire time. His brothers survived so much - but now they refuse to use that mode that let them survive so much. So he’s dealing with some misplaced guilt there, because it’s not his fault that their eclipse mode was experimental from the start, and always was a risk, he just happened to be the first (and only) consequence they ever had to deal with. 

I’m… I’m going to ensure no reveal is taking place here (definitely could!) because I don’t want to take away from the brothers’ relationship. A reveal here would be rather overshadowed by “Well, I guess that might as well happen, but frankly we’re still coping with that hostage situation, so let’s just unpack that later” before they all slip into a very efficient “Alright, we’re all safe, are we? Anything we need to ensure it stays that way?” With Y/N/ Robin handling some security issues at home for their collective peace of mind, and later gets the introduction to Eclipse, too. 

But we’re not doing that. I’m removing Robin from the equation - they were stuck in the same situation, perhaps, but pre-reveal they might have just taken a few reassurances from their rival to then hole up at home after pretending they’re fine. Rattled, but in the end they just invest into a bit more home security, much to the bafflement (but also relief) of their neighbor. (Who, of course, doesn’t pry.) 

So Horizon gets the trip to HQ, not the duplex - but after everything is resolved, Dawn/ Dusk at least have a rather considerate supervisor, who mentions that hey, your brother requested a transport to come see you. Maybe stay in for a little while longer. 

Dawn/ Dusk, baffled as the respective brother is, stays. Wakes up the other (again - depending on how dangerous the other situation got, even without the eclipse mode as an option, they prefer not being alone. Also heavily depends on where Robin was, given that Robin by that time is also a trusted work partner, even pre-reveal) and relays the information. 

It’s a more subdued reunion - Eclipse isn’t as outwardly frantic, more worried if he even has any right to be concerned, and Dawn/ Dusk just feel awkward, having made him worry. They’re the big brothers, and it’s not supposed to be that way. 

Once Eclipse lets slip that he was worried because they couldn’t use the eclipse mode “because of him,” that just breaks the ice. They’re quick to reassure him that everything is fine, things were handled, and they weren’t alone anyhow. Another speedrun - they make it clear that his existence is not a fault, and nothing they’re angry about, even if they mourn the safety they found in their ignorance. It always was a risk, and as far as consequences go, they’d take him any day. Something actually bad could have happened, instead of a new AI one of theirs (or both) could have been fried, maybe beyond repair, he’s the best case scenario and they are glad they found out to better not use the mode anymore through him. 

The reunion swaps focus here, because oops, that’s something Eclipse can’t just hear and not ask about. The way they reacted back then - 

Was stupid. They didn’t know what was going on, and took it out on him, which wasn’t fair. That’s, uh, actually something they feel rather bad about these days.

Eclipse just. folds. Sits down, surprise evident on his face, and doesn’t really know how to process that kind of revelation. 

Sun/ Moon look at their brother, and after a moment they sigh, tension dropping from their shoulders. Sit down next to him, as relaxed as they allow themselves at work, and just smile at him. 

“Thanks for coming, sorry we made you worry. Suppose your methods have their advantages - good thing we didn’t care about the regulations regarding confidential information.” 

That gets Eclipse to laugh, too - and they can talk a little more about what exactly happened. 

It’s still a short visit, all in all - a day or two at most, and Eclipse agrees to stay in a hotel room instead of the duplex - Sun/ Moon are a little blunt when they explain they simply cannot deal with their nice landlord learning about their job, too, right now - and Eclipse does note that he’d probably manage to mention something incriminating. No hard feelings - only relief, and a slightly better relationship the brothers can start fostering.

Post reveal, there are no secrets. The actual danger goes over pretty much as pre-reveal - just that Robin doesn't leave after, and helps mediate - they are too tired to deal with the brothers’ weirdness, so they’ll cut that starting awkwardness short. Similarly to the reveal scenario in this context, they would focus on improving the security at their home, but also announce they’ll be with the boys shortly. Greets Eclipse happily, exhausted as they are, and tells him not to worry too much, his brothers are too stupid to die so early. 

Gets an offended “hey!” and a snort from Eclipse in return, and whatever ice there was is broken. The brothers’ relationship is already much better at this point, after talking some things out, and with the intent in all of their minds to fix things. Whatever issues remain unresolved at this point, they push them away, because they know the other side cares, and that’s all that matters right now. 

They skip right into what happened, and Eclipse offers some new gadgets to keep their home safe, and some to carry on their persons to keep them safe on the job, too. More than warranted, technically, but none of them really say no to feeling a little extra safe. 

(Robin of course also gets decked out. Eclipse knows how important they are to his brothers’, and even in the case of this being their first meeting, he cares about them enough already. They’re nice to him - tired, maybe, but they joked with him immediately, and the boy gets attached easily. There’s also the fact that he’d know how involved they were, and that they care about Sun/ Moon’s safety too, so it’s sort of a mutual understanding that everyone gets extra gadgets)

I. I didn’t say anything about Dusk/ Dawn being potentially harmed in this scenario - but we are at over 2K words for this already, so I’ll just declare that they’re 1) smart enough to dodge getting hurt, and 2) have some serious dumb luck, and set this out in the world <3

[chthonicgodling]

speaking of Hades’ flower ring I am actually COMICALLY bad at remembering accessories AND little details for the whole Elysium cast - rearchiving the whole backlog made me realize that lmao. I’ve only just recently within the past few years made a concentrated effort in actually drawing Tory’s forearm tattoos, and even more recently than that remembered that Ty and Bel respectively wear earrings - but like, the compilation of other little things that I just. :( forget to draw??? its????? I REALLY should get better with this???? EXAMPLES-

1. Everyone should be wearing wedding rings lmfao. hello. hello. HELLO. okay I have been making an effort to draw ChalBel & Tybby engagement rings and that’s all the more reason to like aCTUALLY DRAW EVERYONE ELSE’S??? Laphi’s is a claddagh since Jesse is a mortal import 🥺 the only canon exception is Eury, whose divine occupation involves rooting through corpses and so if he wore a ring it would be. uhh lost. I do choose to believe he has one and keeps it in the mouth of the vulture shawl lol

2. Chal and Libby are CONSTANTLY giving Bel and Ty jewelry for every holiday and anniversary, I DO at least draw Bel’s black stud earrings and Ty’s white stud earrings (also gifts from respective partners!) but I only remembered that a few months ago AHHH. Bel has a necklace with one of Chal’s feathers on it - one of the old gray ones 🥺🥺 - I DID draw this many times and uhh. have forgotten since. Missing is several other bracelets including evil eye motifs. Tory makes all this for them by request :)

3. ….Also Bel’s supposed to have visible discolored scarring on his forearms??? From That Time Maci accidentally set him on fire???? yknow???🤪Somehow I’ve never ONCE drawn this and if anything else I really need to sTART dOING THIS ONE AAHH—

4. Once again something that I draw ~sometimes~ but this one I’ll allow bc it’s only ~sometimes~ relevant - in addition to the choker necklace Maci should also ~sometimes~ be wearing a little key on a chain. uhhHHH NO FURTHER DETAIL ON THAT ITS/,,, Maybe exactly what you think (maybe exactly what you think AND THEN dial it 20% raunchier thanks). like I said this one comes and goes but uhhh….. uhhhhhhh well I certainly should be drawing it LATELY. passed between her and Tory actually. Ahem.

the way th at I literally had this meme already made I—

5. BUT BEYOND THAT THOUGH Maci does have another necklace that she’s usually wearing, she actually has a divine crest emblem as a goddess it’s a narcissus on fire. Tory made a little pendant of it as a necklace and she’s SUPPOSED to be wearing that,,?? Well all necklaces fall into her cleavage so just the chain at least but hh still

6. Epi has a bracelet he’s supposed to be wearing that’s magically infused to help him control his uncontrollable shapeshifting in times of Extreme Emotion,…….. particularly one specific extreme emotion. or activity, rather. Prior to having this bracelet custom made, EVERY single time Epi had sex he’d shapeshift into his feral daemon form which isn’t necessarily that bad if you are into fucking daemons (and everyone is!) except daemon Epi IS prone to spontaneous mauling so it’s not even a cosmetic thing it’s just a safety thing. Eury has never cared for the record and he’s the only one safe from that anyway lmfao that uhhh. was just for the purpose of sleeping around with the rest of the palace

7. charon has full tattoo sleeves all moths and lanterns and I have never andprobably WILL never draw it it’s sooo OoOo much aaAAHHG//

8. Alena has a little snake ring that allows her to shapeshift and disguise her snake tail if she twists it! This is primarily used for the purpose of shifting topside when hunting for mortals to eat 😌

I’m sure there’s more but 😬 these are the ones I’ve clocked recently so!! OOPS!!! maybe I’ll….. fix it….. all of it……… one day…….. but use ur imagination when looking at my art pretend all of it is there ty ty

[loungemermaid]

What do you think is entailed in a Victors responsibilities after winning the hunger games?

Do you have any headcanon?

Thank you so much.

@curiousnonny

Ooohh this is such a good question, thank you so much!!! I haven't fully fleshed out what I think happens but I have given it some thought, definitely.

I think for the most part they're like how our reality tv stars are today. I think Haymitch personally is "washed up", or more likely in my brain he washed himself up. I think Haymitch is very much a Bojack type who, other than mentoring, "doesn't get work" anymore.

Contrasting that with Finnick, who obviously works quite a bit. Of course, a great deal of that work is forced prostitution, but I imagine he's also at movie premiers, exclusive parties, fashion shows, all of that.

We don't know much about entertainment in the Capitol because Katniss doesn't watch much tv or participate in pop culture, before or after she wins the Games, but I have a very hard time believing that the only entertainment in the Capitol is the Hunger Games. It's the biggest thing, it's their Met Gala and Olympics and all the talent shows combined. It's the biggest part of their calendar, but it's not the only thing they've got going on. Just the biggest.

I think the Victors are treated a bit how we treat the stars of "trashy" reality tv shows(think Keeping Up With the Kardashians, Jersey Shore, Sixteen and Pregnant, all those wonderful mtv shows.....). I think the Capitol always think of the Victors as being District Trash(like white trash). They're always going to be considered "other" and while they're the biggest stars, from the biggest stage of the Capitol, they're not the same as Capitol-born celebrities. So, like the difference between Kim Kardashian and Anne Hatheway. Anne Hatheway is famous because she's a fantastic actress. Kim Kardashian is famous because of many reasons, most notably because she's Kim Kardashian.

So, let's go back to Finnick, because I think the comparison between him and Kim is a good one, lol. I think along with the prostitution, it's print ads, it's commercials, it's exclusive interviews, it's anything they can get his name on, because he sells. He might have even been in movies or other tv shows. And that's just the things he's explicitly in and needs to be present for. This isn't even mentioning tabloids, paparazzi, blogs, listicles, talk shows, mentions at award shows, everything, every bit of noise, always, all the time.

As far as what I imagine Katniss and Peeta would've had to do had the Quarter Quell gone differently, I think they also would've been trafficked, their marriage be damned. I think it would've been worse, actually, that they would've been a package deal. I think Katniss would've been in fashion shows, made to work in the fashion world for a good part of her life. I think she would've been forced to sing, no matter if she wanted to or not. Peeta would be a famous artist, but they'd find something else for him to do as well. The Victors having talents can't be an accidental thing, I think they are expected to perform, with whatever they've got. For a lot of them, I think that performance is sex. Most people are attractive enough, especially with hi-tech cosmetics and a team of stylists, and Finnick mentions that he's far from the only one, just the most popular. I think for others, like Beetee, who might not be particularly desirable, they think of something else. I think Beetee holds the same cultural role as Steve Jobs or Elon Musk to them(obviously not the political part but the "oh my god he's such a genius" way).

Whatever they end up doing, it's all a method of control. The Capitol uses them for whatever they need, to feed the machine, and to keep them in line. They have to make it look glamorous enough to keep the Capitol citizens watching. They need them to buy into this, that this is an opportunity for poor District people to rise above their station, to be able to work in ways they are truly passionate about, not just their District career. That the Games give them the opportunity to serve their country and be part of the highest honor a poor kid from the Districts could be.

As far as the actual Victors, they need to make sure they're occupied enough to ensure there's no rebellions. Even at the bare minimum, they're shipped up for the Games, unless they are too embarrassing(like Annie. My theory is they treat her like pre-liberated Britney.) If they're all too busy with the press and the Games and celebrity, they can't plan anything. I think that's why they don't send someone in to help Haymitch mentor.

So, all in all, I think their obligations are very similar to what modern celebrities do/are expected to do. I've been thinking of writing a popstar oc but I don't know that a) anyone would read it or b) that it wouldn't be just a rip-off of Sarah Lynn or worse, self-inserty. I need to finish a few stories before I get to her but I will be putting her in as a cameo in some of my things.

[tearlessrain]

god i'm so fucking stupid i never knew that for top surgery they take the nips off and put them on later i just thought it was goodbye tits goodbye nips goodbye everything look at my flat chest yo

So the funny thing is that is an option you can choose to go with, there are multiple different types of top surgery and different ones work better for different people/situations. there are people who decide to yeet the nipples entirely and either roll with that or get nipples tattooed on later, depending on aesthetic preference.

at the other end of the spectrum, if you start out with small breasts and nipples that are naturally situated kind of high up, you can go with something called keyhole surgery, which only involves one small incision under the nipple to remove unwanted fat/breast tissue. there's also buttonhole which is similar to double incision but the nipple stays partly attached the whole time and the nerve is never severed. both of these options tend to wind up with the most "natural" looking nipples.

I had slightly too much boob for those options (and the fact that I'm built like an italian greyhound and have very little muscle/body fat means that if anything had been off after surgery, you'd notice) so the type I had was one of the most common, which is a double incision with nipple grafts. which basically means they remove the nipples entirely and... idk, put them somewhere for safekeeping I assume, then make an incision just below the pectoral to remove excess tissue and skin as needed to get the right shape (additional fun fact, my surgeon is also a literal sculptor with clay, which he partly does to study the human form to be better at the cosmetic side of gender affirming surgeries, super cool guy would highly recommend him, can't imagine what it's like to have that much of a grip). after that the nipples are reattached via grafts in a spot that's more consistent with a cis male chest. so they're still the same nipples, just moved to a new spot.

there are some downsides to this method, the main ones being that the nerves have to be severed to fully detach the nipples so it's common to either lose sensation in your nipples entirely, or have it come back kinda wrong (TMI but it was the latter for me, it's been a couple years and I've almost entirely regained feeling in my chest, but my nipples go back and forth between "exactly the same as the rest of my chest" and "oh no bad don't touch" depending on, as far as I can tell, their own whims and nothing else, which I won't lie is definitely a bummer, just not nearly as much of a bummer as constant dysphoria). the other is that they don't look as natural as keyhole or buttonhole, hence my phantom of the opera comment on that post. I've seen results that came out better than mine, but mine have a lot of scarring and one of them like. lost half its color for some reason. they look fine at a reasonable distance but if you get up close you can very much tell that something Happened there. which is honestly kind of odd because my incision scars healed ridiculously well.

anyway sorry for infodumping but yeah you can totally get top surgery and still have nipples in at least some capacity.

[outpost-31]

alright posting about it because I love it. for a rock human I had to create a stand. here it is

it's named after this song, but I just call it Arpeggi for short.

It's Layne Funagata's stand, one he had since before ever joining the org.

I've already explained it so . transcripts of lazy midnight conversation under the cut

also layne's stand has rings of eyes surrounding its face like the ophanim but instead it's head functions like a 360° camera because it's a mechanical stand. does this make sense. the rings are attached and rotate around a fixed point (the 'face'. still deciding what it is)

fun fact. because it's meant to look like a seraphim. arpeggi also has several pairs of wings. HOWEVER. theyre entirely mechanical and have cables attached to them like a powerline. it's such a strange thing, it's mechanical but also some parts of it are carved out of rock

ohh my god that reminds me. arpeggi follows the jojolion trend of extremely mechanical humanoid stands and. ok let me get a definition

now this is what the song is named after right. for this reason I thought it would be cute for arpeggi to have a mess of thin wires in their chest that are pulled tight enough for you to play like a harp. guess what those multiple arms are for. guess how its ability activates

.....

OH this isn't a cosmetic thing. the ability activates when it pulls on the strings

.....

layne is a conman and for that reason arpeggi is both a mix of the gambling stands in the series (osiris, marilyn manson) and yet also relies on unknowing hypnosis

that's what the chords do. it's a very obvious cue but the playing of the music with the ability. it`s literally designed not to be noticeable and for your brain to just tune it out. he openly cheats at bets and arpeggi grants him immunity because it leaves whoever he's playing with completely ignorant to his cheating. it doesn't actually change anything about your mind, you don't act any different and he can't command you, but it quite literally rewrites what youre seeing and displays something else like a mirage

he openly rigs a card draw to benefit himself? you see him playing entirely fairly as long as arpeggi is playing its music

this also works for other things which makes fighting him disorienting and confusing, especially because arpeggi only has to strike one chord for the effect to take hold. however in that case it only lasts for a limited time, for a constant effect it needs to play a song

he just uses it for bets and gambling. for the fun of it. never anything too serious, he does it for the fun it seems which is why he backed out when he met araneri and saw hof

the way he rigged araneri's bet was by pouring him shots of liquor that was much stronger than they'd both agreed to drink to get him to tap out early. and then hof manifested and he gently switched their shotglasses around

fun fact, arpeggi IS kindof biological but only in some places. the inside of its chest and its hands and its eyes (including thr ones on the rings)? that's it. you can see Biological Pieces in there when you look behind the strings to see it play but most of them are encased in rock or metal and don't move much. and its eyes usually stay closed

only its hands are the most noticeable. it only plays with 4 at a time because the others are more mechanical and produce a worse sound on the strings, which it genuinely cares about and gets annoyed by. they're much more dexterous than metal could be and much softer so those 4 are clearly skin despite how they look

then thr main body seems to be composed of metal and filled and draped with electrical wiring like a transmission tower including the blinking red lights and. then the head carved out of stone in the middle of the rings. it's a beast and i love it

I mentioned it has multiple pairs of wings. it does, they're just mechanical. 2 of them though are petrified like they were encased with clay and rock and also have moss growing on them like layne's hair and. are unable to move. it drapes multiple wires and lights over them since they're stable and they won't fall off

got too lazy to type the last one

[ardenssolis]

@tenkoseiensei said (inbox):

' if i asked, ' which was to say that he WAS asking, ' would you ... put it on for me? ' referring to the other's kohl and the experienced way the pharaoh applied it to themselves. ' i don't know, it might not look right since i'm not egyptian. but i still thought - it might be worth trying on this face. my face. ' a pause. ' only if you were willing, of course. '

     OZYMANDIAS LOOKED FROM THE Assassin to the kohl in his hand pensively for a moment, brows slightly risen in surprise, though that was the only thing to be discerned from his expression. Outside of Nitocris and Cleopatra who wore kohl a regular like himself, he had not expected someone else to take an interest in such a thing, least of all Yan Qing. ❝Mm…you need not worry about that,❞ he finally answered, his hand reaching out to gently pluck that kohl from the other’s hand. ❝I think it will look well on you.❞ Gesturing for them to have a seat, he pulled a chair over and sat down, leaning forward and careful as he set to work. It was with practice ease that the kohl was applied – such almost done mechanically as to be expected from one who had grown up knowing how to do this just as easily as one automatically knew how to breathe. ❝Sometimes the other pharaohs ask for assistance with this, myself included. It can be easier to have another apply it rather than doing it yourself, although in time, you learn. Your hand becomes faster, your mistakes, near non-existent. You could almost do this in your sleep.❞

     There were medical and culture reasons for this aside from merely cosmetic, thus, there was always great importance in learning such, even for a pharaoh like himself. Despite relying on servants for a great deal of things, this was something he could do quite easily on his end (and still did on his own most of the time). As he leaned back to examine his handiwork, there was a tease that so desired to be said, but he decided to spare Yan Qing of it…just this once, at least. ❝There. All finished. I must say, it matches you quite well. The color of your eyes seems to stand out even more with the darkened outline. Heh, you may even turn some heads, I think.❞ Okay, maybe one tease as a treat---