#plus ridiculous shipping of course
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Sometimes it kinda gets to me just how solitary my life is. No, I don't have a way to go pick up something really heavy or big. I don't have a driving license and I don't have anyone that I could ask to come pick it up with me. I'd be ready to pay for the petrol but I simply don't have anyone I can even ask. Not in about 300km radius. Sure, I've learned how to get by and take more difficult roads to achieve stuff by myself, but I don't feel like it's something to be proud about. I'd rather have friends to ask for help and give help in return. Also the fact that if something happened to me at home and i was unable to call for help, it would likely take a few months before someone would be worried enough to figure out if something happened. Meh. I dunno. I guess I'm feeling sad.
#shut up yoi#I would've gotten a 25kg sack of plaster for just a few coins if i would'be been able to go pick it up#alas I had to find a place that sells it in smaller amounts and best I could find was 3kg for 13eur...#plus ridiculous shipping of course#sometimes i really just want to give up trying to do anything#it's always either a struggle or expensive as hell or both
10 notes
·
View notes
Note
I live your human streamer x monsters! Imagine them doing unboxing videos and gifts from fans. Of course you get sweet ans who send really nice gifts. Then you get the fans who might send a bit more suggestive gifts. I think it would be pretty funny off some monsters sending yn "courting gifts". Poor gullible yn who is too nice to say know. Plus they don't exactly know its that type of gift
[Referring to this story] Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, NSFW under the cut!
You didn’t think much of it. One day, one of your monster viewers had asked if they might send you a gift in the mail. You cheerfully agreed to it and continued eating your food, moving on from the topic.
Then you found your entrance door blocked by dozens of packages.
As it turns out, a lot of your monstrous fans had the same intention. You decided to start doing unboxing videos, clearing out your ever-flowing queue of gifts.
Some are innocently sweet. The plant creatures prefer surprising you with fresh bouquets of flowers or harvests. The bird hybrids usually go for shiny, eye-catching jewelry. You’ve received a cursed locket from a deep-sea kraken, and a haunted doll from one of your cheeky ghost followers.
Other packages are bolder in their intention.
“Is this a promise ring?” you wondered out loud, fumbling to comment on the unexpectedly romantic gesture and trying to hide the deep blush.
The worst part about these particular offerings is that they always seem to trigger a certain jealousy within the other viewers; it results in some increasingly ridiculous attempts to one-up the previous. You had to threaten to stop doing these videos once you found a wedding gown in one of the boxes.
If you've decided to delve into adult content for your monster fans, the variety of presents expands even further.
At first, you mostly received additional props for your content. Maybe a revealing outfit, or a pair of handcuffs. It didn't take long for your patrons to gain more confidence in their choices. You've hesitantly unboxed different kinds of sex toys, with little handwritten notes begging asking you to use them in your upcoming livestreams.
The turning point was when you revealed a custom-made dildo, bearing the shape of your viewer's own appendage. The chat had briefly gone silent while you gawked at the bizarre toy. Of course, they thought begrudgingly, what better gift than a way to fuck you from a distance?
Needles to say, you woke up to piles upon piles of similar "donations". You wondered if there's some erotic shop out there confused at its sudden spike in sales.
"Are you guys serious?" you whined, pulling out a large, silicone tentacle the size of your torso. "At this point I think I've collected all of your genitals."
"Mine hasn't shipped yet", a viewer comments.
[More Monsters]
#monster streaming#monster imagines#monster x reader#monster x human#monster romance#monster smut#monster boyfriend#terato#teratophillia#monster fucker
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Autistic/neurodivergent 👻 (💀🧼 too bc why not/it's my comfort ship and I love them)
(chock full my own personal HCs and ideas, also mental health stuff/issues/problems heyo)
CW: brief mentions of s*icide/s*icidal ideation
I have a lot more to say about this freak, than pretty boy, ADHD brain rotted Johnny, so let’s get into it‼️‼️
Ghost is socially awkward as all hell with actual negative rizz, whether platonically or romantically. Most people write him off as weird, creepy, or scary, though that's also part of his charm and mystique for some reason.
Autistic, (and it's painfully obvious lmao). Special interests include Skyrim, DND, Bloodborne, Dark Souls, Elden Ring, The Witcher, etc. An absolute sweat, so it’s absurdly good at the games too. Also owns a ridiculous amount of merch pertaining to these games, from t-shirts to fucking coffee mugs. Their eyes will positively light up whenever they get the chance to geek out, and will talk your ear off about it. Soap always listening to it's nerdy rants, as he just loves to hear Simon talk no matter what it’s about. But, also because he’s always so eager to learn about what his partner likes or is interested in. Every now and then it'll get Johnny to join them for a round of DND or watch him play Skyrim or some other game, or even other members of the 1-4-1. And even though Soap and the others aren't nearly as experienced and well-versed in these games as Ghost is, they still both/all have a lot of fun. Outside of video games, they’re also obsessed with marine life and sea creatures. They're especially fond of sharks, he has a large collection of stuffed sharks/shark plushies in fact. Each with their own individual names that he loves dearly. Can't sleep without at least one plushie or shark, and sleeps with a different one each night, cycling through them. They also love to visit aquariums and the beach, and it has encyclopedic knowledge when it comes to most underwater creatures or marine mammals you can think of. He loves to show this off via party trick, or of course, just for the sake of rambling about it. It owns entire books on just sharks or marine life, and is obssessed with watching nature doctumentaries, whether it's on sea or land creatures.
Speaking of his fascination with marine life...He even keeps a few Ranchu goldfish as pets that it bought online from a breeder, (as Ranchu goldfish are one of it’s favorite fish/favorite breeds of goldfish). It thinks of them as it’s own children, and does it’s due diligence and research to provide them with the best care possible, (plus a beautifully decorated tank). Their names are Wotsit, Tangy, and Oswald. Wotsit and Oswald are males, Wotsit is red and black, and Oswald is a "calico" Ranchu. While, Tangy is female, and is orange and white.
At first, Johnny can't for the life of him understand what makes a goldfish, (fish being some of the most boring pets in the world in his humble opinion), so appealing as a pet. But he sees how happy the fish make Simon, so he doesn't really question it, just leaving it at "if they’re happy, than I guess that's all that really matters". Though the more Ghost talks about them with so much excitement and affection for it’s little fishy friends, the more Soap begins to appreciate them and kind of grow attached to them in his own way.
Simon stims by bouncing his legs, pacing, flapping their hands, or grinding his teeth (had to get braces and later a retainer to fix their teeth because of this). It used to mainly stim by rocking back and forth as a child, and he still does it from time to time to help calm himself, or for comfort when they need it. It also likes to walk on their tiptoes,—(he has exceptionally strong legs and calfs because of this habit),—especially when walking up or down stairs.
This detail is more just a general personality trait of his but whatever—
They are very expressive, (Johnny finds it absolutely adorable). Which is something not a lot of people know about him, as when the situation calls for it or when they need to get it together, he has excellent control over his emotions. A sensitive crybaby, and is a very emotional person. Quite literally can’t help it.
Ghost often has a hard time understanding other people or what they're feeling due to his autism. They're not heartless by any means, and it tries it's best to understand, but most times they unintentionally come off as insensitive or mean. He’s also brutally honest with people and never lies.
Simon needs constant reassurance due to their often low self-esteem, and Johnny is more than happy to provide that for him. Always praising them and telling them that he’s handsome, that he’s enough, that he’s perfect, and that he’s such a good boy.
(Speaking of Soap praising him, Ghost has a praise kink, to which Johnny is also more than happy to indulge. Though will occasionally use it’s kink against it, such as openly giving it praise during missions. Which Simon is always embarrassed, and seemingly hates it, but in actuality it’s the hottest thing ever).
That he loves them more than anything in the whole wide world, and would not trade him for anything. That he’d never lie, or cheat on him, (and he’s proven time and time again that he’s a man of his word). That it is his “forever” and nothing can change that.
The fact that Johnny is always so considerate of it’s needs touches Simon so deeply, as none of it’s past partners had ever been so respectful. Warming their heart, and it only continues to deepen the love he has for his partner. 💖
Ghost has a rescue German Shepherd named Riley. They love the dog to death, brings him everywhere with them. Simon especially likes to always take Riley with him when they go out jogging or for a run, or whenever they just feel like walking around the neighborhood to clear their head. The two are joined at the hip, not only because they’re incredibly attached to each other...But because Riley is trained as an emotional support animal for PTSD and anxiety-related reasons, and is also a medical alert service dog. Regarding not only some pretty nasty asthma, but he’s got some hereditary cardiovascular/heart issues that could prove to be a real problem.
Simon can't really live without him.
Riley is formerly both a fighting and military dog, they took him as their personal pooch, after no other handlers would work with him due to aggression issues. He has stunning green eyes and a beautiful black and tan coat. Though he's a bit mangy. With Ghost having handmade a leather spiked collar and a chain leash to match his overall ruggedness, though Riley's personality couldn't be farther from his tough exterior. Simon has re-trained and re-socialized him very well, and has helped him to unlearn his past temperament/behavior. Good with kids and other dogs and animals, loves people and attention. Though still has just enough bite left in him to be protective and to act as a guard dog for him and Johnny, always at the ready in case something happens. Which in Ghost's eyes is highly important and appreciated in a dog.
Riley's past history really tugged on Simon's heartstrings, so he has dedicated himself to pampering his dog. Getting him the best dog food money can buy, always looking out for a new toy for him when he goes to the store, etc. Riley often will sleep in between Ghost and Soap or at the foot of their bed.
Ghost struggles with PTSD and generalized anxiety disorder (GAD). His PTSD stems from his traumatic childhood. While his anxiety is mostly a by-product of his PTSD and trauma, as well as something born from the stress of being in the military, and learning to always be on the alert, never at ease. Though both seem to be somewhat tied to his autism as well.
They have panic attacks regularly, (which can be very dangerous because of his asthma, having to carry an inhaler on him at all times). (Plus, his heart condition is heavily affected by stress, which he’s treated/medicated for, but can still pose a risk). Flashbacks occur more often than not, (their flashbacks mostly happen in their sleep, as nightmares and night terrors).
Johnny is really the only one who knows of their past and mental health. (On all government mandated material, it’s intentionally left vague. The most it recognizes is that Ghost was born in Manchester, that his father's got a lengthy criminal record, and his capture and extensive torture by Roba).
As they don’t really talk about themselves that much, half because they’d rather not bring up such painful memories, and half for the fact he doesn’t really want other people knowing his business. Either that, or it's just that either no one ever really cared to know, or people weren't stubborn (or stupid) enough to press on it further, (apart from Johnny of course).
Soap is incredibly understanding and patient, therefore, it was very easy to open up to him. (Simon still finds that Johnny's the only person he's super comfortable opening up to, but also it opens up to and overshares with Roach every now and then). Johnny has a strange sort of calming effect on Ghost. Soap being an expert on how to get Simon to relax. Even when Ghost has a whole-ass service dog, (who also happens to be registered as an emotional support animal too), for this exact reason and purpose—But, Johnny frankly doesn't give a fuck. He wants it to know that he’s there for them, and that he cares deeply for him. Simon appreciating his fawning over him, and him taking care of them greatly.
Simon also has major depressive disorder (MDD), having struggled with such since childhood, and battles with suicidal ideation/thoughts on the daily.
They have actually even attempted quite a few times in the past. (Fun fact, the closest he’d ever come to successfully killing himself, was when Soap had gone into a months long coma after having been nearly killed by Makarov).
He’ll have depressive episodes that can last from days, to weeks, to months, sometimes being borderline debilitating and/or incapacitating. Soap tries to always be there for it during hard times, and this is no exception. He tries to provide him with what they may need, whether it’s a bit of humor to get it’s mind off things, or consolation after a long day, or maybe a hug, or one of their favorite snacks from the grocery store.—All Ghost has to do is ask, but usually Johnny always knows what he needs without a word being said between them.
Ghost goes to therapy regularly, and it does help a lot, (as they’ve got a fantastic therapist, having provided them with tools that have helped to save their skin on more than a few occasions). Though unfortunately despite this,—he’ll never be completely happy or stable. But that’s fine and is something it can live with, as long as he has Soap by their side and other people to support him. 💖
And last but not least…All members of the 1-4-1 having highly specific phobias? Yes please!
As for Ghost…
He is deathly afraid of thunderstorms/has major Astraphobia, as it triggers flashbacks regarding his father’s physical abuse. Simon is about the most vulnerable you’ll ever see him during a thunderstorm, they can’t do anything but curl up into a ball and sob and shake. He’s even pissed himself from fear on a few occasions after a particularly loud clap of thunder. Soap always tries to make sure he’s by their side when bad weather is soon to come, even planning his schedule around it (if he can), or rushes home to it in the event of a storm. If they end up having an accident he’ll help to clean them up. Cuddling with him, holding them and having Ghost clinging to him while they cry into his shoulder, attempting to soothe him with lovely words and a gentle touch.
They are also afraid of bugs/have major entomophobia, their entire squad teases and makes fun of them for it, (including Johnny lmao). Though it’s all in good fun, and if Simon ever encounters a single solitary insect…It’s got comfort in knowing their buddies and Soap are there for them, and will protect them. :3 (Idk, I just think it would be hilarious that this grim reaper looking ahh mf, 6’0 or taller brick shithouse of a man, is afraid of a fly getting too close to him).
I really need to gather up my hcs for Gaz and Price and write them down, I love those two as much as Ghost and Soap…I also wanna write shit about NikPrice, bc that’s like my favorite COD ship next to GhostSoap…hrmmm
#cod modern warfare#call of duty#cod mw3#cod mw2#video games#ghoap#ghostsoap#soapghost#simon ghost riley#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#ghost x soap#ghost mw2#ghost mw3#simon riley#autism#headcanons#headcanon#cod fanfiction#cod fanfic#fanfic#fanfiction#ship dynamics#shipping#cod#autism x adhd#adhd x autism#mental health#actually autistic#adhd
70 notes
·
View notes
Note
random question.. do you have any hotchniss headcanons? 🫣
// okay, so i do not ship hotchniss as much as jemily, BUT i do think they’d be really good together, soo i wanted to throw my thoughts about this power couple out there. this is also my first time doing something like this so i apologize if it’s ass ✨🫶
MY HOTCHNISS HEADCANONS:
ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏~♡˚॰°ₒ৹๐
- Emily and Aaron both took dance when they were younger. Hotch was kinda forced to by his mother but secretly liked it, especially the being partnered up with pretty girls part. Emily was a full on pro ballerina by age nine. She still takes ballet classes in her free time because it helps ease anxiety. Definitely giving black widow movie vibes, like spy AND ballerina, we love to see it. Anyway, they bond over this when they first get together and decided to take couples classes. They do anything from salsa dancing to tap, Emily even persuades Hotch to take a dirty dancing class, AND HE IS ACTUALLY REALLY GOOD?!? The man is so tender and likes to take his time in a relationship so the intimacy in dirty dancing is like second nature to him and Emily definitely isn’t mad about it.
- They are both very much married to their work so every now and then they have to take a step back and remind themselves, and sometimes each other, that work isn’t the most important thing anymore. Hotch is actually better at making time because he’s had so many years with Jack. I also like to think that Emily is the Unit Chief and Aaron has semi retired but helps consult on cases across the country by the time they get together. Emily is definitely in charge of planning trips for the two of them, plus Jack whenever he wants to tag along.
- very much the definition of ‘touch him/her and i’ll kill you.’ vibes. They are both VERY passionate creatures and do get jealous often. Definitely not in a toxic way, they just love each other so much and never want the other to feel disrespected. Hotch will always have a hand on the small of her back when they are walking together. Emily eats ALL of it up cause her man is completely whipped for her.
- Aaron goes absolutely feral when Emily speaks French or any other language. He literally turns into Gomez Addams and is just like ‘My wife is the most gorgeous, smartest person to ever live!’
- Emily instantly connects with Jack because although her mother is still alive, Emily rarely got to spend time with her. So she definitely feels like she is healing a part of her younger self by being there for Jack. I don’t see Aaron and Emily having kids of their own. Jack being enough for Aaron and Emily maybe feeling as though she wouldn’t be a good mother. Aaron tells her how ridiculous that is because she’s a natural with Jack, but ultimately they decided to just focus on raising him.
- Emily does have five fur babies to take care of though. Soon after her and Aaron got married he gifted her with a cat he adopted from the pound. Little did he or the vet at the pound know that the cat was pregnant, so a couple months later the Hotchner family discovered a little surprise in the form of six baby kittens. Aaron talked Emily into giving two of them away, one to Spencer and one to JJ, but Emily insisted on keeping the rest. Of course Aaron couldn’t say no to her 🫶
- Aaron has a lot of PTSD from what happened with Haley. He has night terrors sometimes so bad that Emily finds him shaking and sobbing in his sleep some nights. If Emily takes to long running errands or maybe doesn’t answer a text over a certain amount of time Aaron’s anxiety sky rockets. But Emily is so patient with him. Staying up late to soothe him and going with him to his therapy sessions just to hold his hand in the waiting room. She’s his number one supporter and he doesn’t take that for granted.
#aaron hotchner#criminal minds#thomas gibson#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotch x reader#emily prentiss#aaron hotch hotchner#aaron hotchner x emily prentiss#hotchniss
81 notes
·
View notes
Note
I don't know if you take requests...but I really liked ur Scott fic so maybe one where Scott really likes praise.... And reader doesn't mind giving it
- Yesss i do accept requests😭!! I love getting them cayse half the time i have writers block. But i love this sm.
Also sorry this is so late i’ve been so busy it’s ridiculous 😭💔
Warnings: one mention of sex but that’s it
(also i made this is kinda a continuation from my other post “He’s better”)
Logan and Scott fought really bad for a bit after he caught you two that night. All you could do was just sit there in horror and watch.
It ended in a tie surprisingly. Scott didn’t wanna kill Logan and Logan saw no point against Scott’s blasts. He just stopped hurting scott and was like, “..wait, why do i even care so much? Fuck you both.” He yelled at you that you two were over and you could enjoy your “downgrade dick”. You didn’t bother arguing. Plus, he cheated first so technically this was all his fault already…
But anyways, after wiping the blood from his nose, Scott got you cleaned up and gave you one of his shirts to wear and helped you officially move into his room. Everyone was shocked with you two being a couple. Jean especially. She was sad at first but knew she was wrong so she let it go. No hard feelings.
Rogue was excited because apparently her and her friends had been “shipping” you two for a while. You guess the chemistry was always there.
Logan was secretly still pissed but just stayed to himself for a long while. You didn’t care about him though. All the nights you’d cry because you felt like he just didn’t care..it was horrible. Then Scott came along like a prince and saved you.
It didn’t take long for you and him to officially become a couple either. Now there were dates and late night walks and just romantic bonding. He was actually a big cuddler.
You discovered how much he like praise too. It started simple.
After a mission, you praised him on the “excellent planning”. He blushed and thanked you quietly. You found it cute.
Then another day, he cooked you pasta while you two did a mini date in the mansion/school. It was so good you just praised him over and over.
“Scott, oh my gosh- this is delicious! You did so good on this!” You exclaimed before taking another bite.
You almost missed it but he blushed again a deep red and smiled. Then it clicked. He liked praise..like really liked it. You suddenly felt mischievous..
In bed one night, after you two were done having sex you turned to him and started praising him again just to see if he’d react again. He did in fact blush again and thanked you quietly. He was very flustered now. You just flat out asked him, “You like being praised, don’t you?”
Caught off guard, he at first stammers but then just settled with a simple, “Yes.”
“I knew it.” You said poking him, teasingly. He just stayed quiet, possibly embarrassed to admit it.
“Just makes me feel nice, yknow..? I don’t know..don’t tell anyone okay? It’s kinda embarrassing.”
“Of course, i won’t..and it’s nothing to be embarrassed about! I don’t mind praising you honestly. You’re just…so good at everything you do,.” You turned your body to face and started swirling your finger around his chest. He sighed in relief that you didn’t find it weird.
“Thank you. Thank you,love.” He smiles at you in the dark.
After that night, you started to praise Scott more. For simple things like being so organized and calm to more complex things like during missions. You knew it helped keep him motivated and happy. You really enjoyed Scott and your healthy new relationship with him and he enjoyed feeling seen❤️
#scott summers xmen#scott summers#scott summers x reader#scott summers imagines#xmen97#xmen scott#xmen#cyclops x reader#cyclops#cyclops x men
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
~ SWTD: Still Here AU Part 12: ~
Operation Spy Part 1:
Here we go. The moment we've all been waiting for. The rescue. How will it go? Knowing this lot...
Part 13:
Step 1. Grab the yellow paint and mark the infected containers.
Step 2. Load the infected inside.
Step 3. Get back to the mainland.
Step 4. ...
Well, we'll see what happens afterwards.
Brodie and Roper waited at the Under Rig. They watched the horizon. An outline of a cargo ship came into view. It was a strange feeling. They were all so relieved because this was it - they were going home - but how can you just walk away from this? Easy. You don't.
The pair had to count their lucky stars. They weren't dead like Gregor or turned into something no one thought possible like Rennick. They can still have a normal life. Until then, they just had to go through an investigation, followed by a debriefing and possible firing from Cadal to cover their own arse. It's not like anyone here would care. If Cadal was thinking about sending anyone here to another rig, then they had another thing coming.
'So, what's your plan, Roper?'
'I think I'm going to take myself and the misses on that long needed holiday to Spain. What about you?'
'Take myself and Raffs back to Skye and...'Brodie shrugged. 'I dunno. Rethink my life choices.'
Roper wasn't daft. He was basically the crew's therapist when he wasn't manning Marine Control, and he knew something was bothering Brodie. Which was an oddity in and of itself because nothing bothered him. He was a father figure to most of the younger lads here, especially Raffs. Brodie's known him since he was a child. Roper's eyes lingered towards Brodie's crossed arms. His hands gripped to the sleeves as if he were hanging onto them for dear life. His breathing was laboured, which he'd just pass off as the cold.
'Don't blame yourself,' Roper said. Brodie's shoulders and jaw tensed. 'Raffs is fine. You're fine.'
'I know.' Brodie spoke through gritted teeth. 'But, I shouldn't have let him go down there.'
'He wasn't infected.'
'The lad wasn't ready.'
'Yes, he was, Brods. If none of this happened, he'd be going head first back into that diving bell. Give him time. He'll tell you what he wants.'
Of course, Roper was right, and with a supportive pat on the shoulder, he made his way to the Deck for an update. Brodie continued to watch the cargo ship come into view and took a deep breath to help himself relax.
'He's right.' Raffs' voice broke Brodie out of his spell. The pair had failed to notice that the young man was just around the corner. He approached and leaned against the railing. He seemed happier today. More relaxed. His wide eyes were calm, and his hands weren't shaking. 'I mean - Yeah, I was terrified, but I knew I was safe. Plus, I did hit my head in there. Of course, I'm going to be shak-'
Brodie didn't let Raffs finish his sentence. He just grabbed the young man he saw as his son and held him close. Raffs knew what this was. He's felt this crushing hug before, where Brodie kept him close and refused to let go. The last time he felt it was when Raffs nearly fell down the stairs carrying one side of a dresser. You couldn't fight it either. Any second now...
'I'm sorry.'
There it is.
Raffs returned the hug, though he could never have the strength of Brodie. 'I'm fine,' he said with reassurance whilst he pulled away. 'Just needed to wrap my head around all this.' Brodie's heard that excuse before, but he'll take his word for it. As long as he was okay.
The same couldn't be said for Muir.
Anxiety suddenly gripped him, and the heartbeats he could hear weren't helping. If this was his power from The Shape, then it was frankly shit. The excitement from everyone made him uneasy. There was no warning. The anxiety just came knocking on the door before kicking it down. Muir's mind began to race with ridiculous possibilities. What if the ship sank? What if the police are waiting for Caz to just shoot him? What if The Shape isn't really dead and it'll follow them to the mainland? What if he's taken away and he never gets to see Innes again?
Muir held his breath with a thousand yard stare. No one seemed to notice. Not even Innes, who came into the container with a backpack he left for his partner. All of Muir's eyes turned to him, yet his head stayed seated in the same position.
'Alright. That's all of your stuff.' Like everyone else, Innes was happy. 'Yes. I brought the bloody harmonica before you ask. But don't go playing it until we get ye home.' Muir didn't answer and continued to stare. His mind wouldn't shut up. Everyone's heartbeats drowned out whatever Innes said. It was an echo for him. Everything began to blur. Not because The Shape had suddenly returned, but because he was crying. Muir could finally allow himself to breathe again. Innes looked, and his smile dropped. 'Muir?' He felt a tendril wrap around his hand, and he instinctively began to stroke it with his thumb.
'Please don't go.'
Innes frowned. 'I'm not going anywhere.'
'Stay in here with me.' A pause. 'What if this doesn't work? And what if I'm taken away, never to be seen again?'
'I think that's impossible.'
'Innes, please!' Muir snapped as he began to tighten his grip on Innes and shook his head, because he couldn't run a hand through his hair anymore. 'I don't want to be on my own.'
Innes moved towards him and wiped Muir's tears away. Muir hugged and pulled him closer for him to rest his head on his shoulders. Of course, Innes allowed it and, in return, gave Muir a kiss. 'Alright... Alright, Muir. I'll stay, but we have to be quiet.' Muir nodded before buring his head into Innes.
The pair were so worked up in themselves that they didn't notice Gibbo, Trots, and Roy watching. None of them were surprised. They all suspected something for a while. I'm glad to see they had their confirmation.
Roy often wondered what that felt like. To love someone so near and dear in that way. He's loved friends and family, but nothing you could conclude to be romantic. His only real love outside of that would be football and cooking. He caught on that the three were just staring at this point and gave Gibbo and Trots a small tap.
'Right, you two, get in.'
With their belongings tucked away in the corner, Gibbo, being bigger of the pair, went first and soon settled by using his bag as a pillow. Trots soon followed and didn't exactly know what to do with himself. He had this coat pocket, but it was just awkward for him. Like Rennick, he felt like a rescue horse being led to a stable.
'Hope you don't mind me sharing with you, Gibs.'
'As long as there's no Cadal this or Cadal that.'
'Oh no, this has made it worse,' Roy laughed. 'But hey, if he gets bored, Animal Farm is in his bag.' It wasn't. Trots knew it wasn't. The comment got Gibbo laughing. Trots just smirked before using the tendrils to make himself taller before giving Roy a quick shove on the shoulder with a chuff.
'Off with ya, ya prick.'
'Seya on the other side, lads.'
Of course, the men weren't in complete darkness. Along with the sun coming through at the bottom of the door, Caz and Finlay made some adjustments to the containers, other than paint. A few holes for the natural light. No one thought about possible rain, though.
'Are you really going to use your infection to get a Union?' Gibbo asked out of curiosity.
'Of course,' Trots said. 'How can they say 'no' to this?'
'Ah Christ.' Maybe Gibbo should have taken Rennick as his container-mate. He made his stance known by grabbing Trot's bag and holding it over his head like a pillow trying to block out the noise.
'Right, you two Roasters,' Finlay said in her usual tone that commanded your attention. She was never scared to use it towards Rennick and Addair before, and them being infected didn't change that. The pair awkwardly stood in their own shared container. 'I better not hear a peep out of either of you.'
'I want off this rig, Finlay,' Rennick said in that tone when you're about to get an earful. 'Why the fuck, do you think I'm gonna be loud?!'
'Because you always have to get the last word.'
'Then give me my own container.'
'No. We take you in pairs. Muir's too big for anyone else.' Except Trots, but wanted to be with Gibbo. 'Now keep ye' voices down, or I'll come in there and ring both of ya necks.'
Was Rennick scared of Finaly? No. Was Addair scared of Finlay? Also, no. But, the pair had to admire her attitude, even if they didn't like being spoken to like this. She always carried herself with authority and had bigger balls than most of the men here. Even if she couldn't swim.
'Hey Finlay?' Addair called as she began to close the door. Finlay stopped and listened. 'Why did the military say no to you?'
'Because they don't take women. Is that why they refused you, Addair?'
With that, the door shut, and Finlay could finally feel her blood pressure return to normal. Faint snickering from Rennick could be heard through the metal, followed by a small smack. She spotted Roper and gave a thumbs up, who gave one in return.
Within minutes, the cargo ship docked beside them, and a man stepped off and onto the walkway that connected to the rig. Thankfully, the sea was calm this afternoon. Roper went to greet him.
'Are you Rennick?' He asked.
'No,' Roper said. 'We did a headcount. We lost him.'
'Didn't take a lifeboat?'
'Considering none of them worked, the answer's no.'
The man noticed the exhausted look in Roper's eyes. He was putting it on just so they could leave faster. They then noticed the amount of holes and smashed windows were on Beria. And this was only one part. Their eyes went wide and confused as they scanned the rig before looking to Roper for answers, who exchanged a look that said, 'I know.'
Nothing else needed to be said. The man gave a nod of approval. 'Oh, and we still have some equipment that Cadal will want back.'
'Will they?'
'Do you want to pay for anything we lose?' Seems Caz's sarcasm had finally rubbed off on Roper.
'Fair enough.' He turned and called to his crew. 'Get the crane going!'
And breathe.
Soon, the crew of Beria were safely secured on the cargo. The infected were all sat next to each other, but the equipment sat on top. So much for the holes to give them sunlight. Maybe they could see in the dark?
Caz found himself watching the containers from the safety of Bridge. He couldn't feel their presence from this distance, and it left him on edge. He hoped they were okay. Yes, even Rennick and Addair. He turned and, along with the others, watched the Beria slowly disappear from view.
'Good riddance.'
49 notes
·
View notes
Note
I'm sorry but why do you ship them so hard? They just have 1 episode together.. I watched the sandman expecting destiel and it was literally almost nothing there. 1 episode. Idk how you guys got so much ship content out of that.
Ah nonny, I'm sorry but if you go into anything expecting Destiel you are gonna be dissappointed. Destiel is a behemouth of 12 years worth of gradually escalating gay subtext, queer coding, and romantic tropes. Destiel is the ship that people go into expecting that Tumblr exaggerated only to be blown away by how ridiculously gay it is even when it tries so hard not to be.
But remember, once upon a time people shipped Destiel after only a few moments of interaction. The first Destiel fic was written 30 minutes after Lazarus Rising aired...everything has its time.
When I joked that Dreamling was the "Destiel of Sandman fandom" I meant in terms of popularity compared to everything else about the show. The ships share some similar traits when compared on a grand scale - think ancient cosmic entity that has very strict rules slowly changes and starts to become more "human" thanks to their friendship with one dude who just so happens to be a hedonistic stubborn ass who refuses to die - but are otherwise very different.
But if you are wondering why people ship Dream and Hob so hard, well, this post goes some ways to explaining it.
But basically, look this may only be a half hour of television, but it doesn't equate in universe to half an hour of interaction. This half hour of television spans the course of 6 centuries for these two characters. There is a totally untapped potential hidden in the gaps between centuries to explore, and on top of that, the final meeting is left completely up to the imagination of the audience. Its a sandbox ship. Its a dozen fanfiction gaps laid on top of each other. It's at least 20 different prompts for fans to sink their teeth into. Its the potential. It's the what if.
Then on top of that, if you follow the comics, you know that the future Dream x Hob meetings also have a hell of a lot of potential to turn romantic. Dream going out of his way to hunt down a specific bottle of wine that doesn't exist on Earth anymore to gift it to Hob in his dreams, the very fact that he visits Hob in his dreams (hello common Destiel trope right there). They don't meet too many more times in the comics, but each time the tension is palpable. The meeting in the Kindly Ones is heartbreaking, because you can tell desperately how much they need each other at that moment, but they are both too distracted or consumed by grief and depression to truly reach out to one another. The comics never reveal why Dream sought Hob out at that point, but given everything happening to him at the time, its not hard to assume that Dream was seeking comfort from his friend - the only person he could really turn to for comfort at that point.
Then we have Hob's dream. One of the final stories in The Sandman original comic run. After everything else has happened, after the climax and all that takes place, after the smoke has cleared and you think everyone else has moved on and you are certain the ending is set in stone, you get to Hob's dream, and your mind is once again blown, and suddenly you have a thousand more questions. So many fans hopes and dreams rely on Hob's dream right now I can't even begin to express how important that particular comic issue is to me.
It's all about the potential. There is so much potential.
Plus the 30 minute scene we got was loaded full of subtext, romantic tropes, and queer coding. I dunno if you picked up on it, but I have an extremely long meta essay still in the works that goes through everything that 30 minute sequence gives us in terms of shipping fodder (I really need to finish that). Its not just the romantic tropes, the break up and make up, its the acting choices, the eye fucking, the freaking song choices in 1989 holy fuck could they be more on the nose.
Also, consider this thought experiment: Crowley and Aziraphale in Good Omens are a hugely popular ship, where their creator Neil Gaiman has confirmed that theirs is a love story. Whatever else you may believe about Crowley and Aziraphale, their story is a love story. Creator confirmed love story.
Now, Crowley and Aziraphale are the leads of Good Omens and interact throughout the entire 6 episode show. But consider the first half of episode 3. Imagine a version of Good Omens where Crowley and Aziraphale don't really interact outside of that 30 minute opening sequence. That the story was much more focused on the Them, the Horsemen, and the other characters. Imagine then seeing that 30 minute sequence which shows Crowley and Aziraphale slowly warming to each other and becoming friends over the centuries, shows them getting to know each other, do each other favours, come to each others defence, get into fights and break up with each other, only to make up later...
Would you still ship them? Even if that 30 minute sequence was all you got? I guarantee if I asked any Ineffable Husbands fan that question they would say yes. Because THAT 30 minute sequence is what solidifies the importance of their relationship and its what MAKES IT a love story.
Guess where Neil Gaiman got the idea for that 30 minute sequence in Good Omens from? Ah Neil, plagiarising his own work all these years later!
If Neil Gaiman thought that Men of Good Fortune would work well for a canonical love story in Good Omens, I wonder what he was thinking when he then adapted Men of Good Fortune for television?
THE POTENTIAL.
I ship Dreamling that hard because it has more potential than any other ship I have come across. It has 6 centuries and all the future of the Sandman show for me to explore, to tweak, to play with. Besides they just suit each other ya know? Like Dream is notoriously bad at relationships, but Hob is literally perfect for him. The more my mind dwells on how perfect Hob is for Dream the more I want to scream about it. Give the sad wet cat man a boyfriend who is literally his opposite in every way. Dream is a character looking for a reason to keep living, and Hob is a character who refuses to die. Dream is a pessimist, Hob is an optimist. Dream is afraid of change, Hob literally changes constantly with the times. Dream is desperate for love and someone to stay by his side, Hob just wants to love someone he doesn't have to eventually leave.
Let them meet in the middle.
#dreamling#destiel#the sandman#there is a destiel quote in there somewhere#they met in the middle#lol#sandman comic spoilers#dream of the endless#hob gadling#sandman meta#dreamling meta#asks
262 notes
·
View notes
Text
Of all the atrocities that were written for Voyager, this is, without a doubt, the worst for me, surpassing even the lizard babies and the C7 relationship. Okay, we have a captain who doesn't want to have a relationship with anyone on the crew so as not to compromise her command. And this same captain, who literally gave her life to keep the ship on course, who risked her life, more than once, for members of her crew… This same person creates a romantic/sexual bond with a hologram, deliberately for anyone to see. And as if that weren't enough, she has the audacity to call the hologram her boyfriend. And no, my friends, the atrocity doesn't end there… She puts at risk the lives of two crew members who were being held hostage by the holograms because she simply didn't want to pull the plug and end up with her holographic boyfriend. Does anyone else agree that this wouldn't be something Kathryn Janeway would do??? "Ah, but we have to show that she is a human character, with her weaknesses, mistakes and such…" - Yes! But there are so many less shameful ways to do this. "Ah, but Janeway having a relationship with a hologram wouldn't be so stupid, let the girl have her fun…" - To begin with, she didn't even like holograms very much, I remember her comparing the Doctor to a broken synthesizer! And yes, she could have a relationship with a hologram, but doing it in front of everyone?
What bothered me a lot about this relationship is that Janeway completely went out of character. SHE WOULD NOT DO THAT! Plus, it makes the woman seem weak and desperate. Sorry, but that's exactly the opposite of the image I have of her. That's why I say over and over again that sometimes the canon is hard to swallow. I ignore the existence of this relationship with all my might. In my mind, there's no way this could have happened, at least not in this crappy way.
If they had made it happen in a less crappy way, it would have been good. They could have explored the romance between them in a discreet way, not exposing Janeway in this ridiculous way!
23 notes
·
View notes
Note
actually it's buck who's the spy the whole thing is a long con
Send Me Ridiculous BuckTommy Prompts
Omg I love it 😂
The True Spy
Agent Evan "Buck" Buckley had been tasked with one thing and one thing only - finding out the secrets of the infamous, the mysterious, the aloof Mr. Thomas "Tommy" Kinard.
Buck had been recruited in Peru.
As a freelance spy, rarely had Buck stayed in one place for long, but the money was too good. And, once he began the job, the role had been too good.
He had - he had liked being a firefighter. He liked helping people. Sure, the job had gone a little sideways when the 118 had recruited him rather than Harbor Station. Maybe Buck had dragged his feet for five to seven years working as seemingly a real firefighter.
But.
He eventually got that in with Tommy Kinard. It just took a missing cruise ship, the captain that Buck may or may not see as more of a father than his own dad being on said cruise ship, a hijacked chopper, and a hurricane to get him his meeting with Tommy.
And.
Councilwoman Ortiz hadn't specified how Buck should get close to Tommy.
Maybe.
Dating the guy was much more honeypot than Buck had anticipated for the job. But hey, the guy was cute. He had a great ass. He was so confident. He was interesting. He had a cleft.
And, sure.
Buck hadn't known he liked guys until those soft, soft lips touched his and his body screamed yes at the mere kiss. The gentle, sincere, putting-himself-at-risk kiss Tommy had gifted him.
And.
Okay, it was a plus to learn that he was bi from this experience. Sue Buck, he liked knowing more about himself.
And as Buck stood there, in the house he had moved in with Tommy, with Tommy on one knee with a ring, Buck couldn't help but blurt out, "I'm a spy."
"Uh. What?"
"I'm a spy. I'm a freelance spy that got tasked to watch you. But - but I love you. Damn it, I actually love you. And I needed you to know that before I say yes," said Buck, and it was just spilling out of him like a waterfall of information, "I stopped reporting in when we started dating, anyway. I liked being a firefighter more than a spy. I - I like being with you more than being a spy."
Tommy.
Stood up.
Took Buck's hands.
"Evan. I have no clue what the fuck you just said. And I'm sure you're going to explain it with great detail in a second. But I just want to make sure. You said yes?"
Buck.
Nodded profusely.
"Yes, yes. Of course yes, Tommy."
Tommy leaned in to give Buck a kiss. The same soft, beautiful kiss that Tommy had given Buck the first time they kissed over a year ago.
"Great," said Tommy as he slipped the engagement ring onto Buck's finger, "Now, what's this about being a freelance spy?"
#911 abc#bucktommy#tommy kinard#evan buckley#crack treated seriously#bucktommy microfic#ignore me i'm being goofy#asks
38 notes
·
View notes
Text
Unpopular Opinion that may get me cancelled:
This may sound ridiculous but I genuinely don't ship MJ and Peter. Like there's no iteration of them that ignites any type of emotion within me whatsoever.
If I'm being completely honest. It's like "Yes, heterosexual white couple with a woman basically written to be your perfect match from day one, with no sort of later internal conflict or growth at it's basis, yes, give us nothing and argue about the same thing for 50 years"
Every MJ and Peter scene I've seen in my life I've watched like
Completely emotionless and unmoved. There is no conflict to me. We know they end up together. It's been 70 years. The end.
MAYBE MCU Michelle and Peter from the MCU but even then that's like one specific scene from Far From Home.
But even in ITSV the whole time I was straight faced cause like....
Yeah, they get back together. Of course they do. And if they don't even better for me.
I am a Felicia Hardy supremacist. No offense to MJ but give me a strong sexual assault survivor who is wholy independent, has her own moral code and goals, and is openly ready to deal with conflict between her and Peter even if they still love each other.
Like.. enough of the 'gf sitting at home worried about her superhero bf'. I want the story where the bf is the one worried about his gf doing crazy superhero shit (Peter and Felicia)
Like you can't tell me you be watching MJ Peter scenes not knowing what's gonna happen or what they're gonna say or do they second the scene starts.
It's the same every time. Even if they try and throw in a little conflict it still ends the same.
YEAH and I'm counting NWH because we know we're gonna see Michelle again. The very obviously set up that she remembers Peter so,
When I'm watching Felicia and Peter - talking the video game - I genuinely don't know what's going to happen, what Felicia's angle is, or how they're going to express their emotions to each other.
There's conflict that actually develops over time and effects their relationship on a deep level for years in the comics.
They write MJ to be perfect for Peter, so every argument or breakup they have is contrived or forced as hell (One More Day). And they expect me to be on the edge of my seat.
At least TASM went for Gwen.
No shade to people who ship them though and I mean that.
It's just- It's just not for me. I need some conflict and growth here.
I will always ship Peter and Felicia first.
On the basis that their differening moral codes but willingness to see the other side while not compromising their morals plus them not falling into traditional relationship labels is just more compelling to me
Seeing a SA survivor taking back her power by becoming a vigilante, finally growing to trust a man who's face she hasn't even seen, and then coming to terms with who he is under the mask, as well as questioning her moral code of stealing - to be that's way more interesting than whatever the hell him and MJ got going on back at home.
I love MayDay tho.
This is one opinion from me you ain't gonna change. I ain't gonna argue about it. This was a Felicia x Peter blog before it was a Hobie one. Bring out the casket I'mma drop dead on this hill
#spiderman#atsv#marvel#spider man#across the spiderverse#peter parker#felicia hardy#peterfel#spideyfel
126 notes
·
View notes
Text
in which buggy admits something (if only to himself), shanks is hiding something (though who knows what), and they start to catch up.
part four of the post-marineford portion of the near miss fics! (1, 2, 3) if you have no idea what i'm talking about but would like to read a shanks/buggy story about kissing in disguise and then having to deal with the emotional fallout of doing that, click on this link, that's the tag for the whole thing in chronological order. (plus some complaining about writing, one inspirational improvised musical number, and a snippet of shanks pov) if you do know what i'm talking about: welcome to the not-date! given how long this part took, i'm expecting at least two more. orz
Buggy slept poorly, and woke before the sun was even above the horizon, let alone high enough in the sky to bother him. He stayed in bed, staring up through that window into the gloom of night, and told himself he wasn't nervous. That it was stupid to be nervous. That this wasn’t a big deal. A day with Shanks, what was that next to all the shit he’d been through lately?
It wasn’t working.
And the reason was so stupid, which might be the most infuriating part. Was he nervous about being alone with Shanks, his old rival? Shanks, his old friend? No, of course not. And he wasn’t nervous about being alone with Red-Haired Shanks, Emperor of the Sea, though he might be one of the only guests on the ship who wasn’t. But Shanks, a person who’d unknowingly kissed Buggy once, and Shanks, a person who all evidence suggested was interested in kissing Buggy now… that guy scared him.
That was the truth Buggy had been fighting so hard not to realize, ever since he’d seen Shanks again: the thought of kissing Shanks wouldn’t leave his mind, and it scared him.
It had been a long time since anything about Shanks scared him.
At first, watching from around a corner as Shanks trained with swords and blossomed beautifully under Roger’s praise, Buggy hadn’t understood what he was feeling. His heart racing, his breath growing short, sweat beading at his brow—he’d stared, confused, until his instinct kicked in. The instinct, which had saved Buggy’s life a dozen times over at this point, which Rayleigh would later call hypervigilance, told him that he felt like this when he was afraid. That he must be afraid of Shanks.
But that was ridiculous, he’d thought, the first time he ever challenged that instinct. Why? Shanks would never hurt him.
Oh, he would never mean to. But how could the crew ever care for Buggy half as much as Shanks, when he wasn’t even a quarter as good as him? What kind of legacy would Buggy be to the crew of the future king of the pirates, compared to Shanks?
His instinct had set him on the wrong path that day, Buggy knew now—Shanks hadn’t given a damn about that legacy, though he’d’ve been able to fulfill it without even trying—but at the time, it had seemed the only way to survive. If he stayed as close to Shanks as he could stand, if the legacy was Shanks and Buggy, not Shanks and Buggy… soon he’d realized he didn’t even need to work at it, that Shanks was happy to have Buggy at his side. Shanks’ arm flung casually across Buggy’s shoulder had made the queasy feeling in his stomach worsen and then ease, proof that Shanks was very capable of hurting him, and never ever would.
(Well, he’d been half right about that.)
Thinking back on that time made Buggy want to curl up into a ball and die. Fear? Burning up inside watching Shanks smile—had he really thought that was how fear felt? How he hadn’t seen those feelings for what they were—well, Buggy could grant himself a little leniency there. It had been his first time. And, as one small upside to the whole mess, the way Shanks had eventually, inevitably hurt him had stripped him of all power over Buggy. No more queasy stomachs, no more racing hearts. Just misery, and anger, and disgust.
Until now. Now, Buggy was facing both that old “fear” and the real deal, because this, this was—
Buggy took some deep breaths and told himself none of it mattered. They were just going to catch up. Buggy would find out what really happened to Shanks’ arm. He’d learn a bit about what Shanks had gotten up to and where he'd been. They’d gossip about Rayleigh. Maybe Shanks would have questions of his own, and Buggy would… probably lie through his teeth, honestly, but Shanks would be expecting that. They’d find somewhere to eat, and Buggy would get wasted on Shanks’ dime, and a good time would be had by all.
There would be no talk of (or acts of) kissing.
Unless…
Buggy smacked himself across the head. No! No unlesses! There would be no kissing.
Dawn was beginning to make herself known when Buggy gave in and got up. He dressed, considered the Marine jacket and hat he’d stolen and rebranded, and decided against them. Despite what the ex-prisoners had said yesterday, this wasn’t going to be a conversation between captains. If anything, this was going to be a conversation between former pirate apprentices, and to Buggy that meant no symbols of higher office.
But this left Buggy in the worn shirt of his prison uniform, which he was not wild about, even paired with the white Marine pants. The stripes were alright, but the ragged sleeves didn't exactly scream “ordinary guy” or “capable pirate.” He wasn’t about to go begging Shanks’ quartermaster for clothes, though—that could only lead to Buggy wearing something embarrassing from the Red Force’s lost and found. Given the things Shanks and his crew wore willingly, their idea of embarrassing must be excruciating.
Ah, well. Shanks never wore anything but that old salt-crusted cotton shirt anyway, Buggy wouldn’t look that weird next to him.
He considered himself in the mirror. The small smudges and imperfections he’d noticed yesterday were still there, of course, along with some new ones. Something had really fucked up the lower half of his crossbones, they were barely visible past the shadows under his eyes.
He didn’t feel good about leaving it like that.
He felt worse about caring how he looked today.
While he was fussing—and hating himself for fussing—something struck him over the back of his head. Buggy spun around to see Galdino squinting at him from the bed, hand outstretched from throwing... some kind of wax stick? Buggy picked it up, surprised at how little it weighed.
“Don’ squeeze it,” Galdino mumbled. Buggy’s hand flexed in spiteful reflex, and he realized the wax was stiff and porous. “Isn’t perfect, but it’ll strip most kinds of makeup off.” He laid down, tugging the blanket back up, and said, “If you wanna try and reapply it I can’t guarantee it’ll work, but I can make it softer and concentrate the pigment into a small point.”
Buggy considered this. Probably not worth the effort, he decided, starting to scrape the lower half of the crossbones off his face. The upper half was solid enough it wouldn't look too unbalanced. It might even seem intentional, like his eyes were meant to represent the lower knobs of bone. Yeah, Buggy thought, scraping the smudged corners of his lips to sharp points, this was a halfway decent look.
“Thanks,” he offered, as much of a white flag for yesterday’s… behavior… as Buggy was willing to offer. Galdino let out a vaguely agreeable grunt. “How’d you learn to do that?”
Galdino sat up and rubbed at his eyes, resigned to being awake. “You met Mr. 2.” He shrugged. “We fought sometimes, and I learned by accident that my wax could do similar things with his makeup that I’d already learned to do with paint.”
“Well, it's impressive,” Buggy admitted, tossing the crayon back to Galdino. “Better than I could've hoped for without my special makeup-removing solvents.”
“You’re welcome,” Galdino said, letting the crayon melt away until he was left with a smear of black and white powder on his fingertips. “Now. I have a feeling you won’t want to answer me, but I’m going to ask anyway: having slept on it, do you know what you’re doing with Red-Haired Shanks?”
Buggy grimaced, crossing his arms. He should’ve seen this coming. “No.”
Galdino sighed. He put a hand to his temple. “Do you know what you want to be doing with him?”
Face going warm, Buggy turned away. He wanted to say “nothing,” but somehow Galdino was a person he couldn’t convincingly lie to, so he snapped, “No!”
“Well, at least you’re somewhat self-aware about it,” Galdino muttered. “Okay then.”
Buggy spun around to stare at Galdino. “‘Okay then?’” he repeated.
“Yeah.” Yawning, Galdino said, “Having slept on it myself, I’ve realized you were right, Red-Haired Shanks isn’t going to strand us in the middle of nowhere because you refuse to put out. So I’ve decided this doesn't concern me anymore. Good luck, or whatever.” And with that, he laid down and went back to sleep.
Baffled, Buggy stared blankly at the back of Galdino’s head for a minute. Well, that was a turnabout. He told himself he was glad—he hadn’t wanted anyone bothering him about Shanks in the first place—but couldn’t quite bring himself to believe it. Which was stupid; Galdino had said from the start his interest was entirely one of self-preservation. But a part of Buggy had still thought he’d found a real friend in these bizarre circumstances.
A soft knock at the door distracted Buggy from his thoughts. He chop-chopped an eye to secretly put it to the window, and immediately ruined any hopes for subtlety when he spat out an incredulous, “Shanks?!”
“Hey.” Shanks gave the eye at the window a quick smile before Buggy threw open the door to gape at him more directly. “Sorry, I know it’s early, but I heard you talking so I didn’t think I would be disturbing you. We never decided when to meet yesterday—is now a good time?”
“I…” Lost for words, Buggy stared at Shanks. He wasn’t wearing his usual ratty, half-buttoned shirt of cheap white cotton. Under a hooded cape (of course he had more than one), the blue button-up (left unbuttoned, of course) patterned with white lilies was the kind of shapeless fit that must have been bought from a mass-market store… or a tourist shop, knowing Shanks’ interests. It had, sometime in its recent history, been ironed. And Shanks’ hair looked like it had seen a comb this morning.
It was barely light out.
Shanks was eager.
And scared as he was, Buggy was… not unaffected. He didn’t let his eyes linger on the full length of Shanks’ chest, but even a glance was enough to make Buggy see the truth. However complex his feelings towards Shanks as a person were, Shanks’ body evoked a very simple reaction: a desire to touch.
“Something wrong?” Shanks asked.
Buggy huffed a sigh. “It’s stupid.” When Shanks looked earnestly at him, he rolled his eyes and said, “I thought you were going to be in that same old shirt of yours, so I wasn’t bothered about being stuck in this prison uniform, but… you almost look nice.”
Shanks smiled at this backhanded compliment, and Buggy lost track of the point he’d been trying to make, distracted by the curve of that mouth. It opened a few times, and Buggy realized he’d been so distracted he hadn’t heard a word of what Shanks said.
“Uh, what?”
Shanks’ smile went a little wider. Ah fuck, he’d noticed. “I said, you could always borrow something of mine? I think we’re still about the same size… on top, at least,” he added, glancing down at Buggy’s waist.
Buggy thought about attempting to squeeze into the sunflower-patterned capris Shanks was wearing and snort-laughed. Yeah, they were definitely not the same pants size anymore. “Do you even own anything I would wear?”
Shanks pouted. “What, don’t you think this is a little flashy?” He gestured to his outfit, comprising four entire colors and two floral patterns.
Buggy shook his head. “A little, maybe. But I’m never anything less than 100% flashy if I can help it.”
Shanks jerked his head to the side. “Come check out my wardrobe, then. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”
Buggy raised an eyebrow. Would he, now? “We’ll see about that.”
He stepped out of the room, and before he could close the door found it slamming shut behind him, a faint trace of wax bulging around the frame before disappearing. Buggy’s face went hot. So Galdino hadn’t fallen back to sleep immediately after all.
Voice shaking with laughter, Shanks said, “Shall we?” and led the way.
The wardrobe wasn’t bad—sure, Shanks had a lot of basically identical white cotton shirts, but there were a dozen exceptions that did surprise Buggy—but the real treat was getting a peak at Shanks’ rooms. He still had the messy habits of their childhood, Buggy was delighted to see, dirty clothes and empty bottles on the floor. The furnishings were beautiful, and hand-carved to fit the ship, if Buggy wasn’t mistaken. The bed—Buggy didn’t look at the bed.
Buggy’s hands lingered over a few locked drawers—Shanks had seen how long Buggy was going to take and wandered off, foolishly—but there wasn’t any point to breaking in. That rubber brat had reminded him of Shanks for a reason: the things he called “treasure” didn’t have any shine or value to them at all. If Shanks did have treasures hidden away, they wouldn’t be anything Buggy could sell. They would be sappy in context and meaningless without it—like the hat, given to Shanks as a gift and no doubt given to Monkey D. Luffy for similar reasons.
No, he’d best do what he’d come in here to do.
Most of the flashier shirts were floral patterned. It seemed to be a recurring thing for Shanks, which was all well and good—if you found something you liked, why not stick with it?—but it wouldn’t do for Buggy. They wouldn’t literally be matching, but if they were both in florals it would appear all too well-coordinated for Buggy’s comfort. But, digging into the very back of the wardrobe, Buggy found a shirt that made him smile.
And after yesterday, how could he not?
He strode out of Shanks’ rooms with a smirk sharpening the corners of his lips, wearing an orange button-down (left unbuttoned because they weren’t quite as close in size as Shanks had thought) decorated in a pattern of skewered fishcakes and konjac. He was a walking, talking pot of oden.
Shanks rounded the corner, spotted him, and grinned. “I’m not going to say I was hoping you’d pick that one, because if I do you’ll probably go back and change—” Buggy scowled, ignoring the sudden impulse to do just that. “—but that is one of my favorites. And orange looks good on you.”
“Everything looks good on me,” Buggy said snidely, walking ahead, not letting himself read anything into that comment. Or the glance up and down Shanks gave him after he said this, or the little nod of agreement Shanks made as they left the ship.
“What’s that?” he asked instead. Shanks was holding his arm at an odd angle—hiding something behind his back? For a moment, Buggy was struck with the awful thought that Shanks might have gotten him flowers.
“Breakfast,” Shanks said with a grin, bringing his arm around to reveal a pair of rolls, one fruit- and cream-filled, the other stuffed with��
Buggy gasped. “Is that a hot dog?”
“Close!” Shanks let Buggy snatch up the second roll, which on closer inspection was holding a breakfast sausage, sandwiched between two thin lengths of egg, and drizzled with—Buggy dabbed at the sauce with a finger to get a confirmatory taste—some of the porridge syrup from breakfast yesterday. “I asked Lucky Roux to put something together that would be easy to carry and eat one-handed, and he thought you’d like this.” Looking impressed, Shanks said, “I guess you do.”
Buggy blinked. Half the sandwich already eaten, the rest shoved so far into his mouth he couldn’t fully close his jaw… yeah, no shit he liked it. Easing off the sausage, Buggy said, “If I thought I could steal him from you, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”
Shanks laughed. “Sorry, Roux’s been with me nearly twenty years now, I don’t think he’s leaving for love or money.”
“Too bad,” Buggy muttered, attention back on his breakfast. It was stupidly good, sweet and savory and greasy all at once. “How’d he know, though? The syrup, sure, I had that yesterday, but the roll? This specific shape?"
Shanks, mid-bite, smiled a little sheepishly. Licking cream from the corner of his lip, he said, “Ah, that one’s on me. Roux asked if I remembered any of your old preferences or allergies, and I mentioned your obsession with cheap boardwalk hot dogs.”
So the chef wasn’t a mind-reader. That was a small bit of comfort. Shanks remembering Buggy’s favorite food was… something else altogether. “Well… thanks.”
Shanks smiled like Buggy had lavished him with compliments, instead of barely managing two words of gratitude. “I’m just glad you like it.”
Buggy had assumed Shanks knew this island, maybe even this specific town, pretty well, but the ease with which he led them out of the dockyards proved it. They went south, which didn’t seem to be particularly busy at this hour—that honor went to the docks themselves, with workers wheeling crates and rolling barrels up to the side of the Red Force and the handful of other ships in dock.
South was… just beach? Well, it was early, maybe whatever sights there were to see in town weren’t open yet. A walk on the beach, though, that was a bit…
Buggy told himself to stop thinking about it.
As they finished off their rolls, they came upon a little shack with an “OPEN” sign hung out front. Shanks spoke familiarly with the proprietress, who handed him a steaming paper cup of pale green tea in exchange for a few coins. He offered it to Buggy, who wrinkled his nose at the vegetal smell and interrogated the woman about what else she had. The list wasn’t long, but it included drinking chocolate, which Buggy didn’t get to indulge himself in too often, so he made Shanks get him two cups.
The bittersweet taste lingered deliciously on Buggy’s lips. Definitely the right call.
Shanks had walked in silence the whole time Buggy was drinking, which he’d pretended didn’t bother him. Shanks being quiet, being contemplative, wasn’t totally out of the ordinary. Shanks contemplatively watching Buggy was, just a little.
“So,” Buggy said, breaking the silence. “How did you lose that arm?”
Shanks blinked, coming to a halt. He huffed a tired little laugh. “You’re not gonna like it.”
“My first guess was that Whitebeard cut it off, and my second was that you were dumb enough to let a Sea King eat it,” Buggy said dryly, staring out at the ocean with his arms crossed. The sun glinting off the waves made his eyes hurt. “How much worse can the truth be?”
“…well, you know Luffy, right?”
After a deranged moment of thinking the rubber kid had eaten Shanks’ arm, Buggy put it together and sighed. “It’s not enough that you gave him your hat, you lost your arm for him too?”
Shanks smiled. “I said you weren’t gonna like it.”
“Of course I don’t like it!” Buggy fumed. “I hate that kid! He’s so—” Making a strangling motion with his hands, Buggy yelled wordlessly. “I can’t believe people still go around talking like that!”
“Like our captain, you mean?”
Buggy hissed, “Yes!” Spinning on Shanks, he asked, “Wait, did he say—?”
“—the same thing Captain Roger always did?” Shanks raised an eyebrow. “Why do you think I gave him the hat?”
Buggy rubbed a hand across his face. “I really couldn’t believe it. Wearing that hat, saying those things, it was like I was a kid again! Who’s that naive anymore? We’ve seen what happens to people who talk like that.”
Shanks nodded thoughtfully. “And that’s why you tried to kill him at Roguetown.”
Buggy started to nod, then froze up. “You, ah… you heard about that?”
“I’ve talked about Luffy to… a lot of people over the years,” Shanks said, a wry smile on his face. The breeze that came in with the tide grabbed at his hair, tossing it back from his face. “They like to bring me news about him, when they can.” Cocking an eyebrow at Buggy, Shanks said, “Including newspaper articles about freak lightning strikes that burn down the execution platform famous for hosting Captain Roger’s final words.”
Buggy sulked silently. That stupid lightning…
“But yeah, it was for Luffy’s sake,” Shanks said easily. “He was just a kid, and he’d eaten a Devil Fruit that was in my possession. Even if I didn’t care for him, I’d’ve still felt responsible. He was tossed into a Sea King’s hunting grounds, and I got there too late to scare it off. It was my arm, or Luffy’s whole body.” Shanks shrugged. “Not much of a choice.”
Buggy looked at Shanks, staring out to sea and remembering that moment. For all the lightness of his words, his expression looked heavy. “You have bad luck with Devil Fruit users, huh,” he said at last.
Shanks smiled at him, a sad little wrinkle by his eye the only sign he wasn’t perfectly content. “No worse than I deserve.”
Buggy stared. That almost sounded like Shanks had accepted responsibility for what had happened to Buggy. Maybe being responsible for someone else eating a Devil Fruit had put things into perspective for him.
“Is it my turn now?” Shanks asked, the sort of cheeky tone in his voice that he used to pull out when he wanted to pretend everything was fine, and draw attention away from how he was really feeling. Buggy was surprised to find he still recognized it. He’d’ve thought Shanks would have less obvious tells by now.
Buggy rolled his eyes. “I guess it’s only fair.” Gesturing dramatically at Shanks, he added, “But I reserve the right to refuse to answer! If you think you can get me to reveal my deepest secrets this way, you’ll have to think again!”
Shanks chuckled. “What deepest secrets?” Before Buggy could start to sweat, or sputter out some kind of non-answer, he said, “Anyway, I’m not interested in that. I want to know about your crew.”
“My crew?”
“Yeah, what are they like? The only one mentioned by name in that article was ‘Iron Mace’ Alvida, and it sounded like she’d been a captain in her own right before you met. Are your crews allied or merged? What are your goals?”
Buggy blinked, thrown by this line of questioning. What did Shanks care for the personalities and interests of an above-average East Blue pirate crew that had gotten in over their heads after entering the Grand Line? But the way he was staring expectantly at Buggy, it was undeniable that Shanks did care. “Ah—Alvida and I are allies. At first it was just because she also had a grudge against Strawhat, but we’re both interested in finding Captain John’s treasure, so…”
Shanks smiled fondly. “You’re still after that one, huh?”
“Damn right I am! I never give up on a treasure hunt!” Buggy insisted, raising a triumphant fist in the air. “I even—” Buggy cut himself off. He wasn’t stupid enough to reveal to another pirate captain that he’d been given acquired an important lead on a treasure hunt, not when he was still technically in that captain’s custody. Smiling slyly, he said, “Well, let’s just say I’m getting closer to finding it all the time.”
“And the rest of your crew share that interest?”
“Of course! We’re all greedy, treasure-loving pirates at heart!” Buggy went on to tell Shanks a few stories of his crew’s successes—maybe a little exaggerated, sure, but who did that hurt? So the treasure chest Richie had dug up at Mohji’s command hadn’t really been full of priceless gemstones, he’d still found it! That was impressive to Buggy, and he wanted other people to feel just as impressed. If he had to twist the truth to get that reaction, so be it.
Shanks was still smiling when Buggy got tired of bragging about his men. “I’m glad,” he said. “I remember how much you wanted to have a crew that loved treasure the same way you do… I’m glad you were able to find one.”
“I—” Buggy stuttered. He—had Shanks just wanted to know if Buggy was happy with his life and his crew as it was? Face hot, Buggy paced down the beach, ignoring Shanks calling after him. This fucking guy. How was Buggy supposed to behave around him, acting like this?
Shanks caught up to Buggy a pace from the wet sand that marked the highest point the tide had reached. They stood in silence for a moment, watching the water ebb and flow, Buggy inching backwards when progressive waves made it clear high tide was yet to come. Quietly, Shanks asked, “Was that all you had to ask me?”
Buggy glanced sideways at Shanks. Had he imagined that disappointed tone? Shanks’ face certainly didn’t look disappointed. It didn’t look like much of anything, though; he was hiding his feelings again, but behind a casual interest instead of a careless smile. Why? What did Shanks have to hide?
Buggy lifted a hand to hover next to Shanks’ left eye. “I could ask about these scars, but I think I know how you got them.” There were only so many weapons that used three blades set so close together, and only one person who used them that Buggy could think of who was good enough to get at Shanks with one.
Shanks smiled, a forced little thing. “Ah, yeah, that…”
“When I saw them the first time, I thought to myself, I wouldn’t have let that happen!” Buggy laughed; Shanks’ face was frozen in surprise. “Yeah, stupid, right? Like I could’ve gotten between you and Teach. Like I would’ve wanted to.” Buggy shrugged. “Still thought it.” Giving into the impulse, he pressed forward, tracing his thumb down the line of the outermost scar. It was rough, a sharp-edged divot in Shanks’ face. Unnatural, especially on someone like him. “It’s weird, seeing proof you can actually get hurt.”
Shanks’ eyes had fluttered shut; they opened at these last words. “Buggy…”
Stepping back, Buggy shook his head, hair swinging wildly behind him. “Which is why I’m not asking any more questions like that! It’s bad enough thinking about all the shit that just happened, I don’t want to think about other bad times.” He glared at Shanks, daring him to push back.
Shanks just nodded. “Okay, Buggy.” He stood there, letting the tide flow between his toes, waiting patiently for Buggy’s next question.
If only he’d had something in mind. Scrambling for one and coming up blank, Buggy went with the easy option and threw Shanks’ own question back at him: “What about your crew? Who’d you pick up first, the first mate?”
Shanks grinned. “Well, technically,” he began, and Buggy let him go on, hardly listening, satisfied by that easy, real smile.
#notfic#the near miss fics#one piece#shuggy#shanks#buggy#soon... soon taking a gd magnifying glass to the ch 581 cover is going to pay off...
54 notes
·
View notes
Note
You are getting me intrigued about Bladeweave, and i want to know your thoughts on:
A) Do they get a pet together? (The correct answer is yes)
B) Do you imagine them like, in a specific Bladeweave universe, or like canon-ish one, but like after the Hell Trip?
C) Do you think Tara and Wyll team up to make sure Gale doesn't forget to take care of himself and then Tara teams up with Gale to do the same to Wyll?
D) What do you think Wyll's father thinks of Gale?
Also feels weirdly nostalgic to be on your asks
omg hiiiii beloved. first of all finish the damn game 🔫 second of all damn i missed your asks 💕
in order:
A) they get a frankly ridiculous amount of pets but neither of them will admit it because they're the "they're not my pets, i just feed them" kind of mfs. i mean, that's canon on gale's end but we all know wyll is just as bad if not worse with the whole "hm actually animals are fully fledged individuals who belong to no one but themselves and only a tyrant would wish to conquer them and reduce them to something to be owned and,"- bullshit.
(also, honestly? after being called a pet and a pup by mizora for so long, the last thing he wants is to be reminded of her. and considering how in wyll origins he says his biggest fear is to become the devil he was made to look as, i think it'd be highly triggering for him to say anything at all that sounded like it could've come from her mouth, even in a completely different context. so, no, he'll never have "pets", he'll have loyal animal friends whom he feeds and takes care of and who live with him and always come back to him but they're not pets how dare you)
gale is more of a cat/tressym person, and of course tara is gale's friend first and foremost and wyll and her mostly bond over their love for gale. wyll however has no discrimination when it comes to species and i mean none. he'll show up at the tower or wherever else they live all like "hey gale so hear me out" and it's just as likely that he'll have a cat, a dog, a pigeon, a horse, or a crocodile in tow. gale just sighs and goes magic up whatever sort of specialized environment their new tennant will need because he knew what he was getting into when he married Literal Disney Princess, got-speak-with-animals-as-a-cantrip-out-of-a-devil-deal Wyll Ravengard. those are mostly wyll's friends (not pets, the dekarios-ravengard household is completely pet free, ignore the first 10 levels of the tower) but they also get along well with gale too. he makes them tea when they to to their area upstairs for a chat or whatever
B) usually the canon universe, yes. i mean it's fully possible to have a canon run without ever even meeting karlach so it's not like i'd need a fully fledged AU if I didn't wanna include the going to hell part (plus other ending possibilities im not spoiling you about). but also i feel like gale is the kind of stupidly self sacrificial mf who would go to hell with wyll and karlach if that's what it takes, both to be with his love and because karlach does deserve to live and be safe. and he knows that he can help try to look into arcane solutions for her heart. and if anyone understands having a ticking time bomb in their chest and needing support to grow back hope that you'll be able to live without it being a risk, and deserve to, it's him. wyll's saved him from his own time bomb; he would never deny karlach the same sort of redemption, especially when she got in that situation through no fault of her own
so, yes, i can imagine him joining them, even if not 24/7, and trying to help with her heart before they come back. and then we can have bladeweave and karlachzel (? what's their ship name called man) or Fucking Whatever lol. i mean part of the appeal of wyllach to me is that i feel like it makes 0 difference whether it's platonic or romantic, so i can see a platonic helping each other in hell before we can go back to our respective baes sort of situation
C) duh. tara and wyll have a whole routine they've executed to perfection for when gale is having a bad depression day, or a bad back/joint pain day, or an orb flare-up day, or whichever other flavor of disabling situation gale faces (semi-)regularly. tara is both relieved to have someone else to take care of him (both so she gets room to take care of herself as well and just from knowing that no matter what, someone else has gale's back) and pleased to see that, at least as far as depression days go, gale has been having those less and less. not because true love cures all or whatever but because now gale has a significant support network with all the tadfools, plus with the orb stabilized he doesn't have to fear going out, seeing his family, and making friends anymore. nothing is perfect or cured but slowly and steadily he's been building the kind of support net that allows him to breathe and keep himself alive more easily, you know
as for wyll's own disability days, tara is kind of slow to trust and even slower to show said trust. naturally she would always be there to support them both when wyll needed, if anything because it mattered to gale. but it was mostly supporting gale while he supported wyll at the beginning, because she was still wary of anyone who could potentially break her wizard's heart and make him even more fragile
also, he kind of waltzed into her house and then started bringing dogs. yuck.
but wyll is nothing if not explicitly and selflessly loving of gale and completely polite and respectful of tara's boundaries, which means he earns her love faster than any other humanoid ever has. so at first she was kind of tsundere about it - trying to hide her concern when wyll was having PTSD episodes by being kind of focused on gale, being a bit snarky (although never in a mean way), that kind of thing. over time though she fully gave up on pretending and became very involved in helping him. nothing like having a tressym purr to help pull you out of a flashback, or having someone to pet during a depression day, etc.
she is also one of the few people who always keeps in mind that wyll is not, in fact, fully sighted. whenever they go somewhere new or something changes in the layout of the tower she always helps him figure out clues to make up for his lack of depth perception while he's getting used to the state of things. gale also has a tendency to clutter and leave his stuff everywhere when he's particularly invested in a subject so she always makes sure to point out to wyll if there's anything in his path. especially when they're in waterdeep, she always takes the lead when they're walking through crowds, helping make the way so wyll won't bump into anybody by accident. with gale she's more of a supportive friend/housemate but with wyll she goes full on service animal without him ever asking. neither of them ever say anything about it but when she starts doing it wyll knows that he is, officially, part of the family. and most of all, loved
(and they take care of her too, of course. with food and pets and help when she's in pain or sad too. gale is aware that he put quite a heavy load on her when she was literally the only thing keeping him alive after the orb, and wyll is endlessly thankful to her for making sure he was cared for during that time. so they make sure she has all the resting and support she needs, and she is, quite frankly, the most spoiled tressym in the sword coast. wyll also went to ridiculous lengths to make sure everything in their tower was accessible for a non-opposable-thumbs-haver, especially the wizardy stuff because tara is, as gale said, a fine wizard on her own right)
also, sometimes she kneads the bases of wyll's horns when they hurt or feel particularly heavy, physically or emotionally, and it's really cute
D) difficult one. i kinda struggle to imagine ulder having a good relationship with any of wyll's partners, considering he... like... didn't even have a healthy relationship with wyll lol. so he'd probably be distant and kind of strained, but as far as partner choices go, i feel like gale is some of the best he could be hoping for among the tadfools. he is smart and can be charming, and he thrives with older people tbh. ulder wouldn't be a fan of the fact that he's the wizard-living-in-a-tower stereotype and has never really gotten his hands in the mud, so to speak, but gale is respectful, polite, interesting to talk to, intelligent, compassionate, and honorable and ethical to boot, which i think ulder would see as more important. also, he obviously loves wyll, and there's not much more ulder can ask of a partner, especially after he himself failed to provide wyll the love he needed for so long
so i believe he'd like him, although they'd never really be close. the real question though is what gale would think of ulder, because while i think he would be nothing if not polite to him, especially since he knows how much he means to wyll, i also think gale would be playing 5d chess to subtly insult his parenting skills at every opportunity. he is way too nice to be explicit about it but the way he keeps going for the softest, most subtle and hidden of stings, can be more devastating than calling him a bitch. ulder will suddenly realize that two weeks ago gale implied that he was a dumbass, and given that he only noticed that afterwards, he feels like he was probably right. it keeps him up at night sometimes, trying to figure out if gale lightly insulted him or was genuinely just commenting on the weather. the fact that it drives him mad only makes it all the more satisfying to gale. wyll has no clue this is happening at all
this got long and far too detailed but I won't apologize cuz what did you expect really. anyway i love they
#bg3#baldurs gate 3#baldur's gate 3#wyll ravengard#gale dekarios#tara the tressym#tara bg3#bladeweave#ask#confused-inalltheways-human#overflowing trashcan#long post
37 notes
·
View notes
Text
Expectations
A/N: You know, it's always Tartaglia hours in my mind. It's like I always end up going back to writing about him lol. I hope y'all enjoy.
Pairing: Possessive!Childe x Reader
Summary: You struggle with your job and the shadow that looms over you - your boss.
CW: Unhealthy relationships, power imbalance (boss and subordinate)
You paced in the freezing cold with a frown. Snezhnaya’s weather never changed, in fact, it felt worse these days. You could feel your fingertips going numb, even through the gloves, as you crossed your arms to try and make some warmth. The coat that you were wearing wasn’t good enough to withstand the cold of the day. You had to ask for a new one, but the thought made you hesitate. The less you spoke to your boss, the better. It meant not giving into his whims. You could already see the glimmer in his eyes at the thought of you asking him for something.
Your boss. Your frown got worse as you thought more about him. Childe, 11th of the Harbingers, was the headache that never left you. Of course, you did your best to make your boss happy. A happy Childe was the only version of him you ever wanted to see. Anything that could make him angry or upset was dealt with immediately. But keeping him happy was at your expense. Rather than oversee the new recruits himself, he’d left you in charge and kept being in far off lands. So, you were shipped back to Snezhnaya rapidly on his whims. “I hate having to send you off, but you get it, right?” Certainly.
Then, Signora died. You knew that he was in Snezhnaya. There was no way that he wouldn’t be. But where was he? The funeral had come and gone and all that you’d gotten was a letter. A stupid piece of paper that you’d burned in anger after reading its contents. He was in a hurry to ship off the new recruits.
“Captain?” asked someone. Your pacing slowed down as you turned to look at the recruits. They’d all been quicker with their training today. The one speaking to you, Ilya, was the most promising member of the small group. Though, the whole group had improved greatly over these few weeks.
“Yes, Ilya?” you asked softly. You kept telling yourself to be gentle with them. You’d be the last kindness they had before being sent all over the world to cruel hands. Plus, it’d be wrong to take your anger out on them. Childe was your reason for anger, not them.
“We finished our training like you asked. Is there anything else you want us to do?” he asked. You shook your head at them and gave them a strained smile. The weight of their future tormented you.
Every single one of these recruits before you were younger than you. They didn’t know what it was like. They didn’t know the true horrors that awaited them. It was always like this, no matter how much you tried to not get attached. It was like having a new part of your heart ripped out as they were sent off to their deaths. Perhaps it was ridiculous to care. Part of being in the Fatui meant not caring about others too much because you run the risk of getting hurt. All of you were mere bodies that the Harbingers could move around like pawns. But you couldn’t separate yourself from them. You remembered every single person that had been trained by you. You remembered them because you knew that the rest of the Fatui, the Harbingers, and even the Tsaritsa wouldn’t remember them.
It wouldn’t be long before someone in this new group died and were replaced with someone else. It wouldn’t be long for them to be separated from each other. It wouldn’t be long before you were assigned another group to train. A puff of air formed as you took a shaky breath. As you prepared to answer, a pair of arms wrapped tightly around you. Your brain stopped thinking for a moment. You were so keenly aware of the recruits looking at the person that was caging you in.
You looked up and felt your heart stop. Dark, sapphire eyes looked back down at you. It was that look. The one he always got when he had you right where he wanted you. You were his cherished prey. A chorus of cheerful greetings filled the air. You remained frozen in your spot. He’d made no mention of personally visiting the group before sending them off. You could only assume that he was purposefully trying to agitate you. There was never any freedom from him, was there?
“Look at how well behaved these recruits are, (Y/N). Why am I yet to hear your voice?” he asked. Behind the cheery tone, you could hear the underlying disappointment. Your stomach plummeted.
“Master Childe! I-I’m just surprised is all,” you whispered. The smile returned to his face. He turned his attention to the group.
“All of you are free to go back to camp. When you get there, someone will give you details on your next mission.”
“Yes, sir!” said the group as they hurried back to camp. As you watched them disappear in the snow, you bit your lip. You’d told yourself that you were going to be strong. You couldn’t cry. Especially not in front of him. It’d upset him to see you cry for others when you refused to be emotional with him. You couldn’t afford any misunderstandings.
“You’re shaking,” he said. “Are you that happy to see me?” You didn’t know how to respond. The emotions were overwhelming.
“Always am, Master Childe,” you answered. You hoped that your smile didn’t seem forced to him.
“I’m happy to hear that. You don’t know how difficult these last few weeks have been. Not being able to touch you in any way has been awful. I’ve been counting down the days for when I could see you again,” he said. His grip on you tightened more. It wasn’t like you could even escape him. No matter where you went, the shadow of Childe loomed over your existence. At its core, there was no hope for you. You were bound to this job. “You know, I’m so proud of you. You trained them in record time.” You knew that he had to have been watching them for some time. Perhaps the whole training run. He would ask for details if he wasn’t aware.
“Just wanted them to be the best for you, Master Childe.” You didn’t have the strength to fight against him. In gentler terms, you were a mere plaything to him. In reality, he felt like he owned you. Your own movements within the Fatui were restricted because the world knew what you were to him. You knew that the trainees only respected you because of the man that was eternally attached to you. Your title might as well be: Captain (Y/N), Harbinger Childe’s Pet. He orders you to do something and you do it.
But you had to maintain it. Maintain it for the smiles that waited back home for you. Your family couldn’t survive without you providing for them. “I expect nothing else,” he said as he nuzzled your face. “Since you’re done with these recruits, I can take you on my new mission.”
“Yes, Master Childe,” you said. You secretly wondered how much more you could take of any of this. The nature of training people just to send them off to their deaths, the constant moving around with no stability, and the suffocation of the man who held you.
But it was expected of you to be able to handle all of this, so you would.
#tartaglia x reader#childe x reader#genshin impact imagines#genshin impact x reader#childe x you#tartaglia x you#genshin impact x you
95 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Story of Minglan
Three exams down, two to go, plus I haven't made any irreversible bad decisions that will screw up my life again for years to come yet! 🎉🎉 I deserve a treat!
Go, Minglan! Destroy some evil in-laws! Make my night!
***
LMAO, Granny has an agenda 😂
IMO as a viewer, though, this guy is such a non-entity, I can't even anti-ship him like I do with Qi Heng.
***
LOL, this imbecile.
What guards? They are too busy fighting for their lives while your stupid ass is catching up on beauty sleep.
***
Well. I guess this is better than being court-martialled and beheaded.
Super unsatisfying, though.
On a happier note, Gu Tingye's beard is growing on me 😋 Also, he looks good in armour!
***
Are you kidding me?
***
ARE YOU KIDDING ME?
***
Is he really going to take credit for Gu Tingye's plan?
How many episodes before this cockroach is squashed? I'm already furious!
***
Wait, did the cousin also marry someone from this ridiculous family?
Why would he do that? Have they not had enough of this stupid woman and her stupid offspring?
***
Well. He seems like a prize.
***
I am just not a fan of this entire episode. They made these people into such caricatures. All they need is an "I'M A VILLAIN" sign and we'd be all set. It is so over the top, I cannot take any of it seriously.
And, of course, the wife is meek and virtuous and obedient, and miles out of his league looks-wise. It's all just too unrealistic.
***
GIRL, WHY WOULD YOU EVEN WANT TO?
With a husband like that, I feel like my vagina would permanently nail itself shut.
***
How do they know that the prostitute's baby is even his?
A prostitute by definition is not sleeping with only one man.
***
Oh, that will go over well, I'm sure.
***
LOL, what even.
Ma'am, first of all, that is not his child. After three years of not being able to get his wife or multiple other concubines pregnant, he suddenly impregnated a prostitute?
Second, I would sooner die than carry this subhuman's offspring. Shulan not having kids is a blessing.
***
Wait, is Granny the Second suggesting MURDER?
Grabbing the popcorn, I am finally intrigued! 🍿🍿
36 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fic Writing Review 2023 🌈
i wanted to take a moment to reflect on the past year and bring it to a nice close, so i took to tumblr search and google to see if there was some sort of tag game going around. i frankensteined this list of questions from a few different versions of what was probably originally the same thing, but the nature of The Website of course makes it impossible to locate an original, so this is me just sort of, well, joining the fun by starting a parallel thread.
-
Words and Fics (on ao3) 📚
words posted: 73,947, but this is a little deceptive because all the words for A flip-flop state of mind currently get counted for 2023, so it's probably something closer to 45-50k
fics posted: 21, which will eventually go down to 19 when i update the two multi-chapter works and they get sorted into the new year
first fic: Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream Throuple [Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House (1948)]
last fic: Bases loaded, do your dance [h50]
-
Ships and Fandoms ⚓
ao3 tells me the following:
Starsky & Hutch (8)
Hawaii Five-0 (2010) (7)
Ted Lasso (TV) (2)
Stargate Atlantis (1)
Hard Core Logo (1996) (1)
Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House (1948) (1)
Top Gun (Movies) (1)
and for each of those it's probably the ship you most expect if you know the thing (and the way fandom works), except maybe ted lasso (both fics are keeley/roy/jamie) and sga (a gen team fic, no ships).
-
Top 5 Fics by Kudos 🏆
no big surprises here. ted lasso was easily the biggest fandom i've written for this year (not to mention that these two fics had the good fortune of being posted very soon after the finale), followed by h50 long before s&h comes on the scene:
How To Build A Triangle (or accidentally fall headlong into one, or whatever the fuck) [ted lasso]
Honey honey, how you thrill me (Honey honey, nearly kill me) [ted lasso]
A flip-flop state of mind [h50]
Oh, kiss me like the final meal (Yeah, kiss me like we die tonight) [h50]
Something old, something new [h50]
-
Top 5 Favorite Fics 💖
these are in no particular order!
3 AM, the time when most people die - this is a hard core logo (1996 canadian movie) fic which just kind of Happened, and it hung around on ao3 for a solid few days in a 0 kudos 10 hits sort of state, which had me giggling every time i thought about it. 2023 goal of writing for me, myself & i achieved (0 kudos on a fic)! ✅ (that said, it does also bring me great joy to see that the number is upwards of zero now. lovely to see an obscure thing find its audience. <3)
Your hands in my back pockets - a starsky/hutch fic, and in some ways the opposite to the previous one. i had a "this is alright" sort of feeling about it when i hit post, and the (lovely! very flattering!) way people responded to it surprised me somewhat. reading it back now, i don't know what bothered me about it at first - it's nice, it flows, it's all good! plus, i really like the title. it's a good s/h title.
POV: It’s a lovely day, you’re sipping a refreshing cold drink on your 70s apartment balcony, and the upstairs neighbor who always waters the sago palm outside your front door when you forget about it has that one friend over and his windows wide open. - this is a starsky/hutch all dialogue fic, and it was just plain fun! very easy to write, thankfully not hard to read, and the title is completely ridiculous in a way that still gives me a kick.
How To Build A Triangle (or accidentally fall headlong into one, or whatever the fuck) - can't not mention this one, i think. it's the roy/jamie/keeley ted lasso fic i wrote in record time (for me), and i had a blast doing that and i think that's palpable in the end result. i have warm memories of this!
Oh, kiss me like the final meal (Yeah, kiss me like we die tonight) - h50! steve/danny! they'd gotten swamped by all the starsky/hutch in 2022, but they made a minor comeback this past year. and again, this fic was just plain fun - a scene that really needed the mcdanno rewrite, and i'm glad it happened, and that it decided to flow so smoothly it grew twice as long as intended. the gag with the gun is still good, the banter works, and i like "it tastes like a laugh".
-
Fandom Fic Events 🤝
my knee-jerk first thought was none, which would have been a blatant lie for this year! i wrote a fic for the SHareCon (starsky/hutch con) zine, which is currently still zine-only but will appear on ao3 at some point in the future, and i also wrote something for this year's Starsky & Hutch Advent Calendar, which can be found here (which will also lead you to all the other lovely advent calendar gifts of 2023 and previous years!). neither of these things would have happened if starsky & hutch fandom hadn't been such a warm, welcoming, unbelievably well-organized space. <3
-
Projects for 2024 👀
oh god. oh god i have so many things on the grill.
the end of 2023 was a stretch of time where i did write some, and at times even a very decent amount, but nothing seemed to be getting finished - which was annoying for a bit, and then sort of petered out into oh well. it'll happen, eventually, when it wants to. which means that currently i have a whole bunch of nearly finished things for a whole bunch of fandoms:
bad buddy - should this be top of the list? who knows. but oh, i need to write something for this - i have to, i need to, you know. it's just that it's turning out to be more of a challenge than most new things i start writing for, because i do feel i have a reasonable grip on the characters, but the fact that it's a thai series which i'm only consuming through fan-generated subtitles is clashing with some of the fundamentals of how i usually write fic, as it turns out. usually i watch a thing and then mimic character voices to write a section of (probably mostly, maybe only) dialogue, which then gets filled out with descriptions and an actual setting later on. the problem with bad buddy is that i love, love subtitles, and i love, love the people who write them, but they do (understandably! naturally!) lead to some very clunky english at times, and i just can't write things like "are you chickened out, fierce eyes". i cannot. which means i need to half-invent the right english character voice (and how that blends with the little i know of thai speaking patterns and customs), which takes away the thing i usually lean on way more heavily than i previously realized i did, so. it's a journey! it's an experiment! i'm learning things! i'm making choices! and i'm pumped about it but it's also REALLY slowing down the bad buddy fic production.
starsky & hutch - many things are happening! many many! they're just happening slowly. there's one particular fic about starsky and hutch comfortably out at a party and hutch fielding questions about names which has been 98% done for a month or two, but i need one (1) more connective paragraph to wrap things up, and apparently i'm in no hurry. and i love that for me, at the same time as i'm tempted to flick my brain and go Do It. Just Do It. oh god, and then there's a much older comedy fic stuck in close to the same situation only there it's 95% and the missing part is the end, which is at least a little more serious, and there are. i think literally a dozen probably. things that are cooking, bubbling, making interesting little noises. it's yet to be seen which of those turn out tasty.
h50 - there are some shorter wips here that have great potential to go somewhere, but mostly i want to finally (finally!) wrap up a flip-flop state of mind, which only needs finishing touches (albeit a bunch of them) on the final chapter, and then maybe 200 more words for the short epilogue to round things out. i had somewhat hoped to get that done before the new year, but it didn't work out that way, and i'm at peace with it - the longer this fic takes, the more comical my initial estimate of "i can probably get this done within the month" becomes. and after that's done, i can refocus my energy on Sweet like a chic-a-cherry cola, another ill-fated plan which i Will see through (while also enjoying myself), dammit, but i think for that one i'll need to pre-write the whole thing before i start posting again or i'll just keep going in circles.
nashville - it's been a while since my rewatch, so i'm not sure it will ever really come together, but i have a fun little 5+1 will/gunnar thing which lives half in a google docs file and half in my heart. could be nice!
sga - there's One Fic that's near done and has a few turns of phrase in it that keep making me go "oh, this might be worth finishing, actually" every time i return to it, but i think i'll need to let that happen a few more times before we actually get there. there's also a light and comedy-ish aro/ace john fic (heavily featuring john&rodney and john&team) on a low boil. i think that one might need to wait for me to rewatch the show at some point so i'm correctly immersed in the Vibes of it all, but it's very dear to me, so it still gets a permanent In Progress label.
due south - there's one particular thing that i might get back to? maybe. it could happen. @redgoldblue's dedicated live reporting on their due south watch, as well as their ds fic, did stir something in my brain.
other - there's literally two paragraphs of hard core logo fic kicking around in my notes which might turn into something some day. (when i started writing 3AM those new words were intended to blend with the two existing paragraphs, but they never did.) there's some ted lasso that can still be considered wip, but my ted lasso fic moment burned bright and short, it seems, though it's nice to know the framework is there if i ever do a rewatch. oh man, and there's a weird homoerotic over the top (because that's what this canon is) tango & cash wip which i hope will make it across the finish line some day, but i wouldn't be surprised if in the end that's, like. coming to an ao3 page near you soon! in 2026.
-
Tagging ✨
tag any number of people you want as far as i'm concerned (which can be zero! that's a valid number), but i haven't spotted this going around in my fandom circles yet, so i'll shoot for some good coverage: @redgoldblue @luredin @actingcamplibrarian @stephmcx @pterawaters @the-arya-silvertongue @logicgunn @incognito-insomniac @dedkake @spaceradars @spurious @sparrowsarus @flownwrong @theroseandthebeast @jimmyandthegiraffes @soleadita @ivycross @murphyhatesme @bgharison @thekristen999 @cowandcalf @msbeeinmybonnet @ruztyryan and you, reading this. i fully tagged myself to do this, so please don't feel shy about doing the same! i really do want to read your answers, if you feel like giving them.
obviously there's no pressure, and also feel free to modify this any way you want! give different stats, list top 5 by hits instead of kudos, name just one favorite fic, add in fics you only posted to tumblr rather than ao3, skip a category or invent a new one or throw the whole thing out and only reflect on a single piece of writing in more detail - it's all fair game, as long as it suits you.
#biggest regret is probably that neither flip-flop OR any of the bad buddy fic got finished before dec 31st#but that's okay. there'll be another dec 31st. we've got time!#*#tag stuff
34 notes
·
View notes
Text
A giant ice spider on Maldo Kries. Image from The Mandalorian, Season 2, Episode 2, The Passenger. Calendar by DateWorks.
Grogu loved a good scary story. A story that was filled with atmosphere. Creepy characters. Scary locations. Strange and wondrous actions. The very heart beat of doom setting the tempo of the tale, with people huddled next to each other, worried and impressed at the same time. The sort of story his dad was completely incapable of telling.
Fennec had asked Grogu why his dad shied away from the spider/mechs that carried around the brains of the Monks of B’omarr. Grogu had laughed and told her it was a long story and he’d need to eat a full meal before he told it. She seemed satisfied with that answer, but then went and asked his dad as soon as she saw them both speaking with the Daimyo. The fink.
His dad of course made a hash of the whole thing by saying, “We ran into some spiders on Maldo Kreis. They made a mess in the Razor Crest.”
What?! That wasn’t the story! The story was much creepier and far more terrifying than that. Typical of his dad to down play the danger. Mandalorians didn’t think something was dangerous unless it had leveled other planets and even then they would kind of shrug and mutter, ‘didn't happen to Mandalore’. Uff. They were so frustrating.
“Okay, kid. How would you tell the story?”
His dad was just humoring him, but Din Djarin forgot that as a former Jedi youngling Grogu had spent a lot of his time dealing with Jedi Knights and Masters who did the exact same thing to him. He knew it for what it was and no Mandalorian was going to trick him into not telling the real, accurate, truthful account of the horror story they had barely survived.
He waited for just a moment and began the story at the beginning. His sign language had improved with practice and thought this was a great opportunity to show off what he’d learned.
‘It was a dark and stormy night. The only sound was the crackling of ice crystals forming on the husk of the Razor Crest. Even the few water droplets from our breath froze instantly as a biting wind began to swirl through the breached panels of a ship that could have become our silent tomb…”
“Grogu. Buddy. Stick to the facts. It wasn’t night. We were just underneath the ice shelf on that ice planet. Of course it was cold. The planet is covered with ice. You can find that in the galactic encyclopedia entry for it.”
Grogu gave his dad a look. A sharp, angry, I’m going to pout at you for the rest of eternity look that he hoped would sear his ice cold dad to his very core.
“Fine. It’s your story. You tell it.”
Ha! He knew the Mandalorian couldn’t hold up under a look like that. If there was one thing Grogu had learned since the bounty hunter had collected him on Arvala-7, was that Din Djarin had no stomach for pouting. It was his secret weakness and Grogu planned to exploit as much as he needed to in order to tell the story of their near demise.
“Our passenger, a Queen frog, from a long line of royal frogs…”
“Grogu…”
Huff.
“Our passenger, a lovely lady frog, who had a desperate need to reunite with her husband for the sake of their children, was so cold her teeth plates were chattering.”
Grogu looked over at his dad and the Mandalorian nodded his head. Good. Fine. Whatever.
“I must protect my offspring Mandalorian. We must escape from this place. My prince of a husband will pay you handsomely.”
“Grogu, she wasn’t married to a prince. He was just a regular frog person. Plus, this has nothing to do with the spiders that Fennec was talking about.”
Grogu folded his arms over his chest and sat on the floor and pouted. He aimed his pout at his dad, hoping it would cause the Mandalorian to reflect on how rude he was being.
“Buddy, just start the story at the point it really began, with you eating that baby spider because I stopped you from eating more the the frog eggs.”
This was ridiculous! How was Grogu supposed to tell the tale of the spider who crept up on them if his dad just kept interrupting and adding in details that didn’t make a difference?
“You mean he actually ate one of those spiders on Maldo Kreis?” Fennec seemed impressed, disgusted, and amazed all at the same time.
“He sure did. After the about fifty thousand of those damn things came after us and almost destroyed the Razor Crest.”
“You have no idea how lucky you are. Those critters are venomous!” Fennec was giving Grogu a very strange look.
“We know that. That’s why we got the heck out of there.”
“Mando, I mean he could have died when he ate one. He was very lucky. He must not have eaten the outer wrapping.”
What! “What!” What?
Grogu stayed where he was sitting. He wasn’t sure he wanted to tell the rest of that story now. It was too terrifying.
7 notes
·
View notes