#we like to joke here but fallout is at the end of the day a very intense political satire

[thewitchqueen281]

I know a lot of people liked the show but also a lot of people liked fallout 4 so idk if any of you mfs can be trusted

[not-so-superheroine]

Elder Graham Needs to Come Get His Mormon Cricket Legion 🦗

saw a comment youtube that read “a swarm of mormon crickets is enough to make you wish for a nuclear winter.” and another that read “i’m a latter day saint and we don’t claim them (the mormon crickets)”  then i thought, “no, you need to claim them. come get your legion of crickets, Joshua Graham.” 

[apollogeticx]

✧˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ DUMB & POETIC ♡·˚

— [♡] ; you sprouted love like flowers, growing a garden in your mind and watering the petals with every unshed tear. ｡°. gojo satoru

tags: hanahaki disease, fem!reader, fluff, slow burn, angst, hurt/comfort, emotional growth, vulnerable gojo satoru, recovered feelings, love after trauma, reconciliation, slow healing, happy ending, chapter four of four!

wc. 3.2K

↳ part 1 | part 2 | part 3

The beach house had settled into a rhythm. Yuji, Nobara, and Megumi had kept the energy alive with beach games, bad jokes, and playful arguments. Even you had begun to relax, finding moments of peace between the tension that still occasionally surfaced between you and Gojo. But for the most part, the trip was turning out to be just what you needed—a break from everything that had happened, a chance to breathe.

It wasn’t until the third day, when the sun was high in the sky and the others were down by the shore, that Gojo’s phone rang. He was lounging on the deck, sipping something cold, when the shrill sound of his ringtone broke the lazy quiet. He glanced at the screen, surprised to see Shoko’s name flash across it.

He raised an eyebrow but answered, casually leaning back in his chair. “Hey, Shoko. What’s up?”

“What’s up?” Shoko’s voice came through sharp and annoyed, a tone Gojo didn’t often hear from her. “Are you out of your mind, Gojo?”

Gojo blinked, sitting up straighter at the edge in her voice. “What’s this about?”

There was a pause on the other end, and then Shoko sighed, her frustration palpable even through the phone. “You know what this is about. You dragged them— her —to your beach house? For spring break?”

Gojo frowned, confused. “Yeah, we needed a break. So what?”

“So what? Gojo, are you seriously that oblivious?” Shoko snapped. “Or are you really trying to make her fall in love with you all over again?”

Gojo froze, the words hitting him like a bucket of cold water. “What? No! That’s not—” He trailed off, suddenly unsure. Was that what he was doing? Was that why he’d invited everyone here? Why he’d made sure you came along?

Shoko’s silence on the other end was damning. She let out a frustrated huff before continuing. “Gojo, you might be the strongest sorcerer in the world, but when it comes to this, you’re clueless. Do you even realize what you’re doing? You’re putting her in the same position she was in before the surgery.”

Gojo stood up, moving to the edge of the deck, his hand running through his hair. “That’s not what I’m trying to do,” he insisted, though even as he said it, doubt began creeping in. “I just… I wanted to figure things out. With her. With all of this.”

“Figure things out?” Shoko’s voice was laced with disbelief. “You don’t get it, do you? She almost died because of how deeply she loved you. And now, after all that, you’re bringing her here, spending time with her like this… What do you think is going to happen, Gojo? She’ll just magically fall in love with you again? And this time it’ll be fine because you’re paying attention?”

Gojo clenched his jaw, the weight of her words hitting him harder than he expected. He hadn’t thought about it that way. He hadn’t been trying to manipulate anything—he hadn’t meant for this trip to turn into some kind of emotional trap. But now, hearing Shoko lay it out so plainly, he couldn’t ignore the truth.

Was that what he was doing? Trying to pull you back into his orbit, hoping that maybe—just maybe—you’d fall for him again? He hadn’t even realized it, but now that Shoko had said it out loud, it was impossible to ignore.

“I didn’t…” He trailed off, his voice quieter now. “I didn’t think of it like that.”

“No, you didn’t,” Shoko said, her voice softer but still firm. “You’ve never been good at thinking about the emotional fallout, Gojo. And I get it—you’re used to being able to fix things with power or clever words. But this isn’t something you can just fix by inviting her to a beach house.”

Gojo leaned against the railing, staring out at the ocean, his mind racing. He hadn’t meant for this to happen, hadn’t realized how deeply he was still entangled in everything that had happened between the two of you. But now, with Shoko’s words ringing in his ears, he couldn’t deny the truth. Somewhere along the way, without even realizing it, he had started wanting you to love him again.

He didn’t even know when it had started—maybe it was when he had seen you for the first time after the surgery, standing there with the weight of your love for him gone. Or maybe it was when you had told him, with fear in your voice, that you were afraid of falling for him again. Either way, it was there now, lingering in the back of his mind, in every look, every word.

Shoko’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Look, Gojo… I know you care about her. But you need to be careful. If you really want to help her, if you really care about her, you need to stop thinking about what you want and start thinking about what’s best for her.”

Gojo let out a slow breath, his grip tightening on the railing. “I didn’t… I wasn’t trying to hurt her, Shoko.”

“I know you weren’t,” Shoko replied, her tone softer now. “But just be honest with yourself, Gojo. Are you really ready to face what happens if she does love you again? Or are you going to make the same mistake and push her away when things get complicated?”

Gojo didn’t answer right away, his mind spinning with everything Shoko had said. He hadn’t meant for any of this to happen. But now, standing here, he realized that maybe—just maybe—he had been hoping for something. Something he hadn’t even been able to admit to himself until now.

“I’ll figure it out,” he said finally, his voice quieter, more serious than before. “I don’t want to hurt her again.”

“Good,” Shoko replied, her voice gentle but firm. “Because if you do, Gojo… this time, it might be too late to fix.”

They said their goodbyes, but Gojo didn’t move from his spot on the deck. The weight of Shoko’s words hung heavy over him, and for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t sure what to do.

He wasn’t used to this—feeling unsure, feeling vulnerable. He wasn’t used to caring this much about someone. But when it came to you, everything felt different. Messy. Complicated. And now, standing here in the soft light of the evening, he couldn’t help but wonder: What was this? What was he doing?

And more importantly: What did he want?

Because whether he liked it or not, Shoko was right. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to make the same mistake all over again.

And this time, there wouldn’t be a second chance.

Gojo stood there, the ocean stretching endlessly before him, but his mind was elsewhere—caught in the tangled mess of emotions and half-formed thoughts that had been brewing since the moment Shoko’s words hit him. He wasn’t used to this. He wasn’t used to questioning himself, to feeling so unsure about what he wanted or what to do next. But now, he couldn’t avoid it.

What do you want, Gojo?

That question had been lingering in the back of his mind for days, ever since this whole beach trip started. He had thought, at first, that it was about giving you a break, giving all of you some time away to reset. But if he was being honest with himself—and maybe for the first time, he really was—this trip had never just been about a vacation. It had been an excuse. An excuse to be near you, to figure out what this thing between you two was. He had wanted to get closer, to understand why you still lingered in his mind, even after the surgery had erased the love you once felt for him.

But now, after Shoko’s call, after that blunt, almost painful clarity she had given him, he couldn’t pretend anymore. It wasn’t about curiosity. It wasn’t about guilt or responsibility, either.

He cared about you. Not just as a student, not just because of what had happened. It was something more. Something deeper that he hadn’t realized until now, until the idea of you falling for him again was no longer a distant possibility but something that could happen. Something that he wanted to happen.

Gojo exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair as he watched the waves roll in, his thoughts swirling like the tide. He had never been one to care about these kinds of things. Feelings, relationships, love—it had always seemed messy, complicated, something he wasn’t built for. He was Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer alive, someone who lived on the edge of power and responsibility, always just a step removed from everyone else.

But with you… it felt different. He wasn’t standing on the edge anymore, wasn’t watching from afar. He was right in the middle of it, tangled up in something that he couldn’t just ignore or brush off.

Shoko had been right. If you fell in love with him again—and he knew it was possible, even probable—it would be different this time. Because now, it wasn’t just about your feelings. It was about his.

He hadn’t noticed it before. He hadn’t wanted to. But now, with the question staring him in the face, he couldn’t deny it anymore.

Gojo wanted you.

Not in the simple, surface-level way that he sometimes joked about with others. This wasn’t about charm or attraction, or the way he could so easily draw people in with his confidence and smile. This was deeper. He wanted you in his life, in a way that felt grounding, like maybe for the first time, he wasn’t floating above everything but was anchored to something real.

He wanted to be there, for you and with you—not just as your teacher or some distant figure in the background, but as someone who mattered. Someone who could be a part of your life, not just someone you admired from afar.

And if you fell in love with him again?

He wasn’t going to push you away this time. He wasn’t going to let fear or uncertainty stop him from trying. Because now, he understood that he had been waiting for something like this—for someone like you. Someone who made him feel… human, in a way he hadn’t felt in years.

Gojo smiled softly to himself, feeling the weight of his decision settle over him. It wasn’t a grand revelation or some huge, life-altering moment. It was quiet. Simple. But it was real.

He wanted you. And for the first time in his life, Gojo wasn’t afraid of what that meant.

The rest of the evening passed quietly. Yuji and Nobara had managed to drag Megumi back to the house, exhausted from the day’s activities, and the house was filled with the usual banter and noise that came from having them around. You had retreated to the kitchen, helping yourself to a glass of water, when you felt his presence behind you.

“Hey,” Gojo’s voice was light, but there was something different in his tone—something more grounded, more focused.

You turned to face him, surprised to find him standing closer than you expected, his usual easy grin absent, replaced by a more serious expression. His eyes, usually hidden behind his blindfold, were uncovered, bright and intense as they met yours.

“Hi,” you replied, suddenly feeling nervous, like there was something unspoken hanging in the air between you.

Gojo leaned against the counter, his gaze never leaving yours. “I’ve been thinking,” he said, his voice softer than usual, almost tentative. “About everything. About us.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the word us, and you swallowed hard, unsure of where this conversation was going. “What about us?”

Gojo was quiet for a moment, as if choosing his words carefully. “I know things have been complicated,” he began slowly. “And I know I haven’t exactly been great at… dealing with all of this. But I want to be honest with you.”

You stared at him, your pulse quickening. “Honest about what?”

He took a deep breath, his gaze softening as he spoke. “About what I want. About what’s been going on in my head since all of this started. And the truth is… I want you around. Not just as one of my students, but… more than that.”

You blinked, his words sinking in slowly. Your heart was racing, and you could barely breathe. “More than that?”

Gojo smiled, a small, genuine smile. “Yeah. I’ve realized that… I don’t want to push you away. I don’t want to pretend like none of this matters. It does. You matter. And I want to figure it out—whatever this is, whatever it could be—together.”

You stared at him, your mind reeling. Gojo—Satoru Gojo—was standing in front of you, telling you that he wanted you, that he wanted to figure out whatever was between you. The fear that had been gnawing at you since the surgery, the uncertainty of what would happen if you let yourself care for him again, all of it seemed to melt away in the face of his quiet sincerity.

For the first time since everything had changed, you felt something new. Something fragile, but real.

Hope.

You took a deep breath, meeting his gaze. “What if I fall for you again?” you asked, your voice trembling but steady.

Gojo stepped closer, his smile widening, his eyes soft but full of that familiar spark. “Then it’s all good.”

And for the first time in a long time, you weren’t afraid of what came next.

A few months had passed since that conversation at the beach house, and everything had settled into something new—something real. The fear, the uncertainty that had once weighed heavily between you and Gojo, had slowly faded, replaced by something more stable, more grounded. Life had moved forward, but now, it did so with a quiet ease that you hadn’t expected.

Your relationship with Gojo had evolved, and though it hadn’t been without its bumps and awkward moments, it had become something solid. It wasn’t rushed or dramatic, like you might have once imagined. There were no grand declarations of love, no sweeping romantic gestures. Instead, it was quiet and slow, built on the foundation of friendship, trust, and mutual understanding.

It felt like you had both found your footing, like you were learning how to be in each other’s lives without the fear of repeating the mistakes of the past.

It was a Saturday afternoon, and the weather was warm, the sun shining down as you and Gojo walked through the school grounds. Yuji, Nobara, and Megumi were off training somewhere, and the two of you had decided to take advantage of the quiet. Gojo had a bag of snacks slung over his shoulder, and you had your hands tucked into your pockets, enjoying the comfortable silence between you.

“What’s the plan for today, sensei?” you asked, giving him a teasing smile. It had become a running joke between you—calling him "sensei" even though the dynamic between you had changed so much over the past few months.

Gojo grinned, his usual playful energy still very much intact. “Oh, you know, the usual. Thought we could go somewhere quiet and you watch me be awesome.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at your lips. “You mean watch you eat snacks and avoid responsibility?”

“Exactly,” Gojo said with a wink, falling into step beside you. “See, you’re catching on.”

The banter between you had always been there, but now it was different. There was a lightness to it that hadn’t existed before. You weren’t constantly second-guessing yourself, wondering if Gojo was thinking about the past or the surgery or the complicated feelings that had once consumed both of you. Now, things just… were.

You weren’t in a rush to define the relationship, to label it. The love you had once felt for him had changed—it wasn’t the same overwhelming, suffocating force that had bloomed inside of you like the flowers that had nearly killed you. Instead, it had grown into something healthier, something that didn’t demand all of you but existed alongside you.

And Gojo? He had changed, too. He wasn’t the same distant, untouchable figure he had once been. He still had that easy confidence, that charm that made everyone around him smile, but there was something softer about him now—something more vulnerable. He had let you in, and though it hadn’t been easy for him, he hadn’t pulled away. He hadn’t run.

You found a quiet spot under a tree near the edge of the training grounds, and Gojo flopped down onto the grass, pulling a snack out of his bag with a dramatic flourish. You sat beside him, leaning back against the tree and closing your eyes for a moment, enjoying the warmth of the sun on your face.

“So,” Gojo said after a while, his tone more serious than usual. “How’s it going? You know… with everything.”

You opened your eyes, glancing over at him. It wasn’t like Gojo to ask questions like that—he wasn’t one for deep conversations unless they happened naturally, but when he did ask, you knew it mattered.

“It’s going,” you replied honestly, offering him a small smile. “Better than I expected.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly interested. “Better how?”

You sighed, resting your head back against the tree as you thought about your answer. “I’m not afraid anymore. Of being around you. Of falling for you again.” You turned your head to look at him, and his expression softened. “And I think… I already did.”

Gojo didn’t flinch. He didn’t tense up or act surprised. Instead, he smiled, his gaze warm as he looked at you. “I know.”

It wasn’t a grand moment, but it didn’t need to be. You had fallen for him again, slowly, gradually, and this time it felt right. It felt safe. It wasn’t the kind of love that demanded too much or threatened to swallow you whole. It was something that grew between you, steady and unforced.

And Gojo? He was right there with you.

You hadn’t talked much about what your relationship was in specific terms. You didn’t need to. What mattered was that you were both here, both willing to figure it out together. There was no rush, no urgency. Just… time. Time to grow, to understand each other, to learn how to love in a way that wasn’t destructive.

Gojo reached out, his fingers brushing against yours as he gave you that easy, lopsided grin you had come to know so well. “I’m not going anywhere, you know,” he said softly. “No matter what happens. We’ll figure it out.”

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his words settle over you. “I know.”

The two of you sat there for a while longer, the sound of the breeze rustling the leaves overhead and the distant laughter of the others in the background. It was peaceful, quiet, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you could breathe—like you had found something worth holding onto, not because you needed it to survive, but because it made life better.

And that was enough.

As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the grass, Gojo shifted beside you, his gaze thoughtful. “You know, we never did figure out what this is,” he said, gesturing between the two of you with a lazy wave of his hand. “Maybe we should give it a name.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Does it need a name?”

He grinned, leaning back on his elbows and looking up at the sky. “Nah. I guess not.”

And in that moment, you realized that it didn’t matter what you called it. What mattered was that you were here, together, and that the love between you—whatever form it took—was real.

And that was more than enough.

notes: now everyone says "thank you shoko ieiri"! writing this was so much fun, thank you so much!

tag list: @lily-of-my-dreams @sunnyx07 @3zae-zae3 @sashisuslover @kingshitonly @bvuckleybby @laviefantasie @r0ckst4rjk @minkyungseokie @tw0fvced @f1sheeee @laviefantasie @f1sheeee @spindyl @itsjustnikkixoxo @springsoltice

©apollogeticx ⋆ all rights reserved.

[itsabouttimex2]

Hi, I wanted to say that I really liked reading your analyses when it comes to flaws in lmk's writing, along with the ranking of the villains that you did. I hope it's alright to ask for advice, since I'd like to make a romantic self insert story with Macaque, but the thing is that I'm worried on how to portray the platonic relationship between Sun Wukong and Macaque. While we still don't know entirety of how Macaque died in his fight with Wukong, I've already made decision to address both of their faults that caused their relationship's downfall. What I'm worried about is how to portray it clearly that it's both of their faults, without making them too OOC. Some fans have tendency to chose sides with their whole situation, which is something I'd like to avoid. But I'm not sure how to avoid that, which is why I'd like to ask for your advice on it.

Sun Wukong and Macaque

A Rundown on the Fallout

This is an interesting question, and thank you for asking! Given how much of their personal backstory is left to viewer interpretation, I’ve included a little bit of mine.

I think the big, big thing that people miss with the Sundial/Shadowpeach fallout is how severely uneven it is. But give me a minute to get there…

Probably the biggest of Past!Sun Wukong’s biggest issues is what I’m going to call “externalizing”. (This isn’t the appropriate way to use that word, but I’m at a loss here) Wukong is bright and loud and happy- and very, very desperate for attention.

Sun Wukong’s literal first action in the world was to excitedly barrel towards a group of monkeys. His first words end with him asking plainly “Don’t ya like it?!” like a child begging for praise from a parent. He shows off to Subodhi’s other students. He eagerly tells a chaotic story to his sworn brothers and is implied to play it up to some degree for attention.

This is direct opposition to Macaque.

Past!Macaque is quiet, withdrawn. He has no ties to other people. He doesn’t pipe up. He’s not bold or confident. So what does Macaque do?

Well, just about jackshit. There’s only TWO members of the six-strong brotherhood that he actually shares interactions with- Sun Wukong and Peng.

Azure Lion? Yellowtusk? Demon Bull King? Macaque literally doesn’t interact with any of them even once. Nobody calls him brother. Flash to the modern day, and he’s the last person Azure bothers looking for.

He doesn’t joke, or tell stories, or try to bond with the rest of the crew. This is literally how he responds to being called a coward and a rodent by a “brother”.

By mildly frowning.

(Side note: WUKONG IS NOT IN THE WRONG FOR NOT DEFENDING MACAQUE FROM PENG. Macaque never went above a mild frown and never acted hurt or upset beyond this little facial expression. If he was sad ((WHICH HE WASN’T)) or seethingly angry ((WHICH HE WASN’T)) then it’s on Macaque and Macaque alone for not defending himself. Wukong is not his brother’s keeper, etc.)

(Macaque, even in the past, was a lot stronger than he’s often given credit for. Did this remark make him unhappy? Yes. Did it break or ruin him? No.)

He has no friends or ties to the past. No mentor and no fellows and no troop. No one likes him. No one wants him. No once cares about him… except for the Monkey King.

All he has is Sun Wukong.

So already they’re on this MASSIVELY unbalance scale where Wukong has a title and a troop and a heaping handful of immortalities and a band of brothers and a sacred weapon and a mountain and and and!!!

And… Macaque has… his shadow powers?

Yeah, they’re not on level footing. Wukong could pull out of the brotherhood and away from Macaque and throw down his staff and still have so, so much!

And Macaque, if he left Wukong, would have next to nothing.

Sun Wukong is his one good thing. His one star in a dark sky. Sun Wukong is all that Macaque has.

Already is this an EXTREMELY unhealthy dynamic, where you’re basically living for a second person without them putting that devotion back towards you-

Which is exactly what causes the downfall of this relationship.

Macaque doesn’t speak up for or against anything. He’s just willing to sit pretty and play along… because it’s for his one good thing.

Because it’s for Wukong.

Even if his brothers don’t like him, or he gets mocked, or he doesn’t want to play along, Macaque grits his teeth and stays- because it’s for Wukong.

Because he can’t lose his one good thing.

So he’ll do anything.

And that’s the problem.

The Monkey King isn’t asking him to shut up and play nice. Nor does he ask for blind loyalty. And he doesn’t ask his friend not to voice his concerns and fears.

Macaque is choosing to do these things.

Because he can’t lose his one good thing.

Macaque is choosing to “internalize” (again, this isn’t the appropriate way to use that word, but I’ve set a precedent here) his thoughts and feelings.

Macaque pulls everything inside, and Sun Wukong pushes it all out.

The First Crack: Uneven Expectations

Macaque is not honest with his thoughts and feelings. He never actually expresses the way he feels to Wukong, which leads to the Monkey King never understanding his feelings. But you know what Macaque DOES do?

He gently and softly nudges the idea of maybe kinda I dunno potentially not taking over the entire Celestial Realm???

But he doesn’t say no.

Macaque never expresses himself or genuinely tries to talk Wukong out of overthrowing the Jade Emperor. He just hints at the idea and EXPECTS Wukong to pick up on his thoughts and wants without any real effort on his own part. He puts ALL of the onus onto Wukong to understand and reach out to him, without putting that amount of time and effort in himself.

Macaque wants to be understood without putting on the effort to be understandable, which isn’t fair to Wukong at all.

The Second Crack: Unfairly Divided Consequences

Wukong is solely punished for the crimes of six men, and left to rot while his sworn brothers run free.

(Quotes pulled from prior analysis)

Sun Wukong is trapped. For attempting to overthrow the Jade Emperor, he is sentenced to FIVE HUNDRED YEARS trapped under a mountain.

Let me elaborate for anyone who doesn't sympathize.

For the next five hundred years, Sun Wukong will be 75% immobile and alone under a nearly lightless mountain. There will be no noise, no stimulation, and no company. He will suffer in silence, and he will suffer alone.

But you know who ISN'T being punished for an attempt to overthrow the Jade Emperor?

Macaque.

Now, this is funny. Wukong leads a six strong band of brothers against the forces of the Celestial Realm, but only ONE of them faces consequences for the rebellion- himself.

Even five hundred years later when Wukong is set free and traveling with his fellow pilgrims...

No one else has faced consequences for the rebellion. All five of Wukong's "brothers" (Azure Lion, Peng, Demon Bull King, Yellowtusk, and yes, Macaque) get away scot-free to continue their plans and schemes.

I would be pissed. You would be pissed. There is not ONE SINGLE PERSON in this world that would NOT be pissed about how blatantly unfair this is.

(End Quote)

This is especially important if you read Azure Lion’s about Wukong “surrendering” as the truth (he is an unreliable narrator), then it’s likely his brothers were spared as a result of his surrender. And still, he’s all alone in this cavern, bored and uncomfortable and angry.

And probably very sad and lonely, too.

The Third Crack: Peach Symbolism

When Wukong wants to cheer Macaque up, what does he do?

Engage in snacking and physical affection that leaves the two snuggled up side by side on a sunny beach.

Seems like the Monkey King has a pretty good read on his best bud!

Now, how does Macaque repay the favor?

After an unknown period of time spent in the extensively explained condition above leaves Wukong angry and frustrated, Macaque comes by to-

Jam a peach into Wukong’s face and act like nothing is wrong at all.

Sun Wukong doesn’t want to pretend that nothing is wrong. He doesn’t want to act like everything is okay. He wants to be free.

But Macaque has put on an act this entire time. He’s played along and kept quiet and complacent and been “good”, and even now is he acting.

So he presents, of all fucking thing, a peach.

Sun Wukong likes peaches, yes. They’re likely a comfort food from a time long past, a constant in his long, long life.

(I bet that on Flower Fruit Mountain there’s a special strain untainted by the push of genetically-modified fruit that’s grown to be chock-full of sugar. I bet it’s his absolute favorite thing in the world to eat. I bet he shared it with the Pilgrims. I bet he wishes he could share it with them again. I bet.)

They’re a symbol of massive freedom- freedom from strife and pain and death.

And having that symbol presented to him so plainly and pretend-happily?

It’s just the final nail in his diminishing coffin of self-control.

The Fourth Crack: Wukong Lashes Out

So, as was unavoidable from the start of his imprisonment- Wukong snaps and rejects the peach, mocking Macaque for trying to cheer him up from a five-hundred year sentence with fruit and a false smile.

But he doesn’t stop there-

The Monkey King continues to castigate his best friend, blaming him for things that are the shoulderweights of six men.

Except he’s not really lashing out at Macaque directly- he’s just lashing out, and Macaque happens to be the nearest target.

There was bound to be a breakdown eventually. No matter how you look at this scenario, anyone would snap. There’s literally not even one person who wouldn’t break down eventually.

And then, Macaque lashes right back, and says something very interesting-

The Fifth Crack: Macaque Lies and Run Away

(Censored quotes taken from same analysis)

No, he didn't.

Macaque nudges the idea. He implies the idea. He hints it, quietly and softly.

"You're really going through with this?" Is not him shutting down the idea of fighting the Celestial Realm.

It's him being a coward and trying to dance around the issue without a direct confrontation.

Not even once does Macaque say: “We shouldn't fight the Jade Emperor."

He directly LIES to present himself as being the better person during this fight.

Macaque is lying to his best friend’s face to make himself look better in this utterly pointless argument, then prepares to run away and never comes back- but not before placing literally all of the blame for EVERYTHING onto Wukong’s shoulders.

(End quote)

Final Crack: YOU are responsible for MY behavior!

Finally, Macaque makes a few last “Nothing is ever MY fault!” statements to Wukong, consisting of:

“You dragged everyone else into this!”

“You put yourself here, not me!”

Which are BOTH blatantly untrue, given that

1. The Azure Lion is actually the one who started the Brotherhood in the first place

2. Macaque is a grown man who makes his own decisions

3. The rest of the Brotherhood are grown men who make their own decisions

4. Macaque went along with the plan willingly

5. The rest of the Brotherhood went along with the plan willingly

6. Everyone took part in the attempted rebellion of their own will and volition

Everyone is responsible for the end result, including Macaque who was there literally every step of the way, but he doesn’t want to accept that!

Macaque wants to be a perfect little victim who can wipe his hands of the matter, and who better to blame…

Then his “one good thing”, who is now utterly helpless and incapable of doing anything about it?

Macaque only finally lashes out and speaks up when there is literally no way to face recourse for it- which is proof of the cowardice lurking inside him.

There’s a big reason that Wukong calling him out for “running away” hits so hard and is what finally prompts Macaque into speaking up and tries to absolve himself of all blame.

Because Macaque knows that Wukong is right.

The first thing that Macaque does when things go wrong is to prioritize himself and run away. (Just remember how he responded to unleashing the Samadhi Fire.) Then, when all is said and past and it’s time to tell the tale, Macaque will whitewash himself- which he does blatantly in “Shadowplay”.

So when his gilded “one good thing” finally cracks the image Macaque built up by being a fallible person who stumbles and slips up and makes very human mistakes?

He abandons ship, and allows his flaws to start sliding out- now Macaque is “externalizing”, which he’ll continue to do to the present day- taking everything inside and putting it out- by projecting and slandering and lying and trying to hurt innocent people.

Essentially, Macaque puts his best friend on a pedestal and of his own will and volition plays the role of “lackey” for nothing in return without being asked, then ditches him over a fight and returns to a much unhealthier group of “friends”, while Sun Wukong is left to serve a lonely sentence as punishment. But because the Monkey King receives punishment and does his time, Wukong is allowed a chance at redemption under the loving and caring eye of his Master, Tang Sanzang, and manages to redeem himself, where his guilty brothers going free leads them to continually rack up crimes that leaves them on the receiving end of the pilgrims wrath.

Okay I’m tired now love you guys ❤️❤️

[lampgate]

wtf is j2 fallout. i’m new to the fandom so ive heard it referenced but have no idea what it is

Okay okay so let me paint you a picture here.

It's June 2021 in the heat of post-SPN fandom. The parasocialism is at an all-time high, as well as some of the funniest bloggers Tumblr has ever had. Like, I don't think people who weren't here in 2021 understand how ACTIVE spnblr was. There were mass block lists, there were fights every day, your mutuals are getting 10k notes on spn text posts within a day. Like it was BUSY up in here and that definitely added to the chaos of this day.

Anyway. So this random day in late June, Jensen announces that he, his wife, and Robbie Thompson are producing an spn prequel together. Most of us are kind of confused and not super hopeful for it, just because most people don't really care enough about John and Mary to warrant a whole show about them...but of course we knew absolutely nothing about the plot so we couldn't say much about how it would actually go.

Tweets from past spn cast and crew start pouring in, mostly all positive, congratulating them on the show--and many of them seemingly suggesting that they already knew about the show in advance.

And then Jared tweeted THIS:

Immediately the vibe shifted. Nobody is sure if he is joking or not. the whole dash is full of "????????" and "he's just joking guys" and "he got hacked" for about 6 minutes. Before he then tweeted this:

And along with that reply, he tweeted the (now deleted) absolute funniest twitter breakdown tweet of all time:

I can't even begin to explain what the energy was like on here after these tweets were published. It was like giving unlimited amounts of tennis balls for a field of dogs to play with. EVERYBODY is online and locked in now. Nobody wants to log off just in case more happens. j2 stans were abandoning ship and choosing sides and fighting each other. destiel bloggers were having the best day of their lives. nearly every post about this is getting 10k notes. Like it was electric and I don't think even explaining it can do justice to what that day was like.

...and then in the end they did some damage control and pushed it all under the rug like nothing was ever said. the end.

[ducktoo]

Syncing Dream [Aespa x M!Reader]

24. Level Up

Note: A prelude to the actual meat of the arc

Masterlist here

The anticipation for Aespa’s world tour was electric. Fans around the globe were buzzing with excitement, and each passing day brought the tour closer to reality. For Y/n, this meant endless planning, logistics, and coordination. After their successful comeback with Supernova, everything was moving fast. But this time, Y/n felt more prepared. He was no longer the nervous rookie manager who fumbled schedules during the Drama era. Sure, the pressure was still there, but now, there was something different about his approach.

He glanced at his laptop screen, dozens of tabs open with spreadsheets, calendars, and tour notes. His mind raced as he juggled rehearsals, soundchecks, interviews, and media appearances. There was still so much to do, but Y/n had learned from his past mistakes. This time, he was determined to avoid the fallout he’d experienced with Karina. That argument, followed by his short leave of absence, had been a wake-up call. He couldn’t afford to let things spiral like that again.

But just as he was about to close the last tab, something caught his eye.

“Wait, what the…?”

His eyes widened. He had accidentally double-booked their all-important soundcheck with a media appearance on the same day. A wave of deja vu hit him hard, and he couldn’t help but laugh under his breath. This was "exactly" the kind of stuff he’d made back during "Drama" and “Supernova”—and it had led to some serious fallout with Karina.

"Hah, sike. Too easy"

But instead of panicking this time, Y/n smirked to himself, already thinking of a solution. He knew how to handle it. He had this under control now. Still, it was fun to mess with the girls a little.

Feigning panic, Y/n rushed into the living room where Aespa was relaxing after a long day of rehearsals. He made sure to put on his most worried face, eyes wide and hands in the air.

“Uh, guys… I might have fcked it up,” he announced dramatically, trying to stifle the laughter bubbling up inside.

Karina, who was curled up on the couch, glanced up, her brow furrowing. “What now, Y/n? Did we lose a venue or something?”

Winter, lounging beside her, raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, what happened? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

"Yeah, you."

"Aish, this guy-"

Y/n paced back and forth, doing his best to keep the act going. “Ok, but I may have, uh... accidentally double-booked our soundcheck and media appearance on the same day.”

“Again?” Giselle piped up from the other side of the room, half-joking but slightly concerned. “Like you did during "Drama"?”

"…Maybe?"

Ningning gasped, holding a hand to her chest in mock horror. “Are we going to relive that disaster?”

For a moment, the room was tense. The girls exchanged glances, unsure if this was going to lead to another meltdown like the last time. But just as the panic started to set in, Y/n burst out laughing.

"You guys seriously should've seen yourself!" Y/n coughed. "Man, wished I recorded this whole thing!"

"Wait, so that means…" Ningning held her breath.

“I’m just messing with you,” he admitted through his laughter, holding up his hands. “Yeah, I double-booked, but I already deal with it.”

The girls stared at him, stunned. Karina blinked, completely thrown off. “You… you what?”

Y/n grinned, finally dropping the act. “It was a quick fix. I rescheduled the soundcheck earlier in the day, and the media event will be in the afternoon. Easy.”

Winter threw her hoodie at him. “Seriously, Y/n? You made us think the world was ending!”

He dodged the hoodie with a laugh, still reveling in their reactions. “What can I say? I couldn’t resist. It’s just... the deja vu, you know?”

Karina narrowed her eyes but couldn’t help the smile that crept onto her face. “You really had us for a second there.”

Ningning groaned, shaking her head. “And here I thought we’d have to take over as managers. You’re lucky you’ve learned to handle this stuff.”

“I mean, can you imagine Minjeong running the tour?” Y/n teased, raising an eyebrow at her. "Snack time for the whole concert and no song."

Winter rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. “I’d be a great manager, thank you very much. Probably better than you.”

Y/n snorted, grinning. “Sure, crybaby. Whatever you say.”

As the girls laughed and teased each other, the tension from earlier faded. Y/n leaned back against the wall, watching them bicker playfully. This was what he loved about working with them—the chaos, the camaraderie. Yeah, the job was stressful, and yeah, he still made mistakes, but now he knew how to handle them without everything blowing up. He wasn’t the rookie manager anymore.

Giselle gave him a playful shove. “Next time, maybe don’t give us all a heart attack.”

Y/n grinned. “Boohoo. Cry me a river.”

“Honestly,” Karina said, shaking her head but smiling. “I’m proud of you, though. You didn’t freak out this time.”

“Yeah, you’re actually handling things like a pro,” Winter added, her teasing tone softening.

Y/n smiled, feeling a warmth in their words. “Thanks, guys. I’m just trying to avoid another fallout like last time.”

Ningning gave him a thumbs up. “Well, you’re doing a good job. Just keep it up, and we might actually survive this tour.”

Y/n laughed, feeling lighter than he had in weeks. They still had a long way to go before the tour kicked off, but for the first time in a while, he felt confident. The hiccup had been small, easily fixed, and no disaster had followed. He knew there would be more challenges ahead, but now, he also knew they could face them together.

As the teasing died down, Y/n returned to his laptop, sending off the final confirmations for the schedule. He glanced around the room, watching the girls joke with each other, and felt a sense of pride. Things had come a long way since the Drama days, and so had he.

Still, the playful chaos of Aespa was something he’d never want to change.

Winter broke the silence, smirking at him. “But seriously, idiot… no more acting like the world is ending.”

Y/n chuckled. “Alright, alright. I’ll save that for when it actually happens.”

-

With the world tour rehearsals in full swing, it was time for Aespa’s final music show performance of the "Armaggedon" comeback. The entire team was feeling the pressure, but Y/n was calm, collected, and—most importantly—determined not to mess things up this time.

The last time they had a major show like this, Y/n had bungled backstage logistics, almost causing a nightmare with another group’s schedule. He still remembered the awkward encounter with Le Sserafim in the waiting room, where he accidentally swapped their rooms with Aespa's.

But not today.

This time, Y/n moved through the backstage area with confidence. He had already triple-checked the schedule, confirmed the setlist, and ensured Aespa’s dressing room was fully stocked with their favorite snacks. Everything was going smoothly. He wasn’t the same rookie manager anymore.

“Y/n, we’re heading to wardrobe,” Karina called, snapping him out of his thoughts.

He looked up from his clipboard, giving her a thumbs-up. “Got it. I’ll make sure everything’s ready when you guys are done.”

As Aespa headed off, Y/n glanced down at the small takeout bag in his hand. He had a little mission of his own to take care of before the show started. Inside the bag was some fried rice that Yunjin of Le Sserafim joked about during his first days. Today was the day for her delivery to arrive.

Heading down the hall, he spotted Le Sserafim’s waiting room and knocked lightly on the door. When it opened, Yunjin stood there, looking surprised but pleased to see him.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Y/n, the room-swapper,” she teased, crossing her arms with a grin. “What brings you here?”

Y/n chuckled, holding up the takeout bag. “Delivery for Yunjin? Huhhh?”

Yunjin’s eyes widened as she reached for the bag. “Wait actually? Bro, I thought I would never get my order delivered.”

“Hey, I always follow with the joke,” Y/n replied with a smirk. “It’s just… taken a while. But here’s to not messing up anymore.”

Yunjin laughed, taking the bag from him. “Well, I appreciate it. You’ve come a long way, you know. I remember when you were running around here like a headless chicken. Kept hearing Winter yelling idiot every time that it's kinda sad.”

Y/n smiled, feeling the truth of her words. “Yeah, well, I'm no longer that idiot… mostly.”

“Well, you’ve definitely got the manager game down now,” Yunjin said. “Thanks for the rice, by the way. And good luck today and for the world tour as well—though you guys don’t really need it. I’m betting on a win for Aespa.”

Y/n nodded, his heart swelling a little with pride. “Thanks, Yunjin. Good luck to you guys, too. I’ll see you around.”

With that, he left Le Sserafim’s waiting room and made his way back to Aespa, feeling good about how things were going. There was something satisfying about righting past mistakes—both big and small—and moving forward with confidence.

As he returned to Aespa’s waiting room, the girls were just finishing up their hair and makeup. Ningning spotted him first, giving him a wave. “Y/n-oppa! Did you deliver the fried rice?”

“Mission accomplished,” Y/n replied, leaning against the doorframe.

“Wow, look at you, handling everything without a hitch,” Giselle teased, a playful grin on her face. “Who are you, and what did you do with the old Y/n?”

Y/n rolled his eyes, though a smile tugged at his lips. “Still here, but not that often.”

Winter glanced at him, an amused expression on her face. “You sure? You still looked pretty panicked earlier when we teased you about the schedule.”

“Oh, that was just for show,” Y/n shot back, earning a few laughs. “I had it under control.”

The energy in the room was light, and everyone seemed relaxed despite the looming performance. But when it came time to head to the stage, the focus returned, and Aespa prepared for what would be their last Armageddon performance.

As the show progressed, the tension built. Y/n watched from the sidelines, clipboard in hand, managing every small detail without breaking a sweat. The girls were giving it their all, and he couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride watching them dominate the stage. When the performance ended, the crowd erupted in applause, and Y/n knew they had nailed it.

But the biggest (obvious) surprise of the night came during the awards segment.

The host’s voice echoed through the venue. “And the winner for today’s music show is… Aespa with Armageddon!”

The girls’ jaws dropped in unison, and they exchanged shocked looks before breaking into excited cheers. Y/n felt a wave of joy wash over him as he watched them rush to the stage to accept the trophy. This was the culmination of all their hard work, and the victory felt even sweeter knowing they had overcome so much to get here.

As Aespa gave their acceptance speech, Y/n stood in the shadows, beaming with pride. The girls thanked their fans, the staff, and each other, but when Karina spoke up, she made sure to throw a special shout-out.

“And, of course, we want to thank our manager, Y/n, for always keeping us on track—even when things get crazy!” Karina said, flashing a smile in his direction.

"Oh my god, why are they mentioning me…"

Y/n chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. He couldn’t have imagined standing here a few years ago, especially not after all the chaos during the "Drama" era. But now, here they were—trophy in hand and stronger than ever.

As the night drew to a close, Y/n couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of satisfaction. He’d made it through the day without messing up, delivered on his promises, and Aespa had secured another win. It was a far cry from the days when he’d struggled to keep up, and now, he felt like he truly belonged.

Walking backstage with the girls, still riding the high of their victory, Y/n glanced at them, feeling grateful to be part of their journey. Things weren’t always easy, but moments like these made it all worth it.

“Well,” Y/n said, unable to resist one last tease. “I guess I didn’t mess up after all.”

Giselle elbowed him playfully. “Don’t get too cocky, bro. There’s still the world tour.”

Y/n grinned. “Bet.”

-

At the dorm, the atmosphere was a blend of excitement and calm, the perfect balance after a long day of rehearsals and celebrating their win. With the world tour concert kicking off tomorrow, the girls were looking forward to a quiet evening, but Y/n had one last treat in store for them.

“Alright, gather ’round,” Y/n called from the kitchen, waving a ladle like a conductor in front of an orchestra. The rich aroma of his signature cheesy ramen wafted through the air, filling the dorm with warmth.

Ningning poked her head around the corner, her eyes lighting up as she caught a whiff of the meal. “Are you serious? Cheesy ramen?! You’re really trying to spoil us before the tour, huh?”

Y/n grinned, stirring the pot. “Consider it a good luck charm, Ning. Besides, I know you guys are going to be too nervous and busy to eat anything decent tomorrow.”

Karina entered the kitchen, followed by Giselle and Winter, all of them eyeing the bubbling pot with a mix of hunger and anticipation.

“Didn’t you say last time that you’d never cook again after getting haunted by the ramen god?” Winter teased, leaning against the counter.

What she said was true, actually. After the dramatic ramen mess, Y/n ordered take out for the girls instead.

Y/n shot her a mock glare. “Ya, that was one time. And besides, I’ve perfected this ramen. No more getting haunted tonight.”

The girls laughed, settling around the small dining table as Y/n served each of them a steaming bowl of cheesy ramen. The rich, creamy broth mixed with the perfectly cooked noodles was an instant hit, and soon, the only sounds in the room were the slurps of noodles and the occasional hum of approval.

“You’ve really outdone yourself,” Giselle said between bites, pointing her chopsticks at Y/n. “This might be your best ramen yet.”

“I second that,” Karina added, nodding in agreement. “Please open a ramen shop after you finished managing.”

Y/n chuckled, shaking his head. “Ehhh… I'll just do managing, thanks. Cooking for you guys is tiring enough.”

As the dinner carried on, the mood was light, filled with laughter and warmth. The girls had already devoured their bowls of cheesy ramen, leaving them lounging comfortably at the table.

The conversation began to drift, as it always did, toward their solo songs for the tour, a favorite topic of the group these days.

“So, Y/n,” Karina said slyly, leaning forward with a grin that instantly put him on alert. “Now that you’ve seen heard all of our solo songs in full multiple time… Who’s your favorite?”

The question hung in the air, and Y/n groaned internally. After that whole chapter about the girls bickering about Y/n's choice for solo songs, they were still adamant to see who came out on top.

“Ah, come on,” Giselle chimed in, tapping her chopsticks against her empty bowl. “You know we need the finale. Spill it. Who’s the best?”

Ningning leaned in as well, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “I’m guessing it’s me, right? I mean, I did hear you humming my song in the kitchen yesterday.”

“Y/n humming?” Karina gasped dramatically, placing her hand over her chest. “That’s huge!”

Y/n chuckled, shaking his head as he wiped down the table. “You guys are annoying, you know that?”

“Oh, we know,” Giselle replied with a smirk. “But it’s time to face the music, literally.”

As the girls all leaned in closer, Y/n sighed. He was cornered. There was no way out of this one. He glanced over at Winter, who was sitting quietly, pretending not to care but clearly on edge. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Okay, okay, fine,” Y/n finally said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “If I had to choose…”

All eyes were on him. The room seemed to grow silent in anticipation.

“…Minjeong's solo is still my favorite.”

The room erupted in chaos.

Karina gasped dramatically, falling back against her chair. “Winter?! STILL!??” she exclaimed, half teasing, half genuinely shocked. “You traitor!”

Ningning clutched her chest in mock pain. “How could you do this to us, Y/n? After all we’ve been through!”

Giselle, however, grinned knowingly. “I knew it. I could tell from the way you looked all starstruck during her rehearsals.”

Winter, meanwhile, turned a shade of pink that could rival her stage outfit. She glanced at Y/n, clearly flustered but trying to play it cool.

“Really?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Y/n nodded, flashing her a genuine smile. “Yeah, really. Your song’s got this energy… it just hits different.”

Winter’s expression shifted from embarrassment to pure joy, her eyes sparkling with happiness. “Thanks, Y/n,” she mumbled, but her shy smile said more than words could.

Before she could say anything else, Karina leaned across the table, nudging Winter with a smirk. “Of course because Minjeong is Y/n's favourite.”

Giselle clapped her hands together. “Better watch out, Winter. That means you’ve got to live up to his expectations.”

Ningning wasn’t letting this go easily either. “But Y/n, you were humming my song! What happened to that? You can’t just flip-flop like this!”

Y/n laughed, raising his hands in defense. “What can I say? Her song grew on me from back then.”

“You’re just saying that because she’s sitting right here!” Karina teased, though she was smiling.

“Technically, you are all sitting right here.” Y/n retorted.

Winter shot Karina a playful glare, clearly still basking in the praise. “Hey, don’t be jealous.”

“Oh, I’m jealous all right,” Karina retorted, crossing her arms but grinning all the same. "My song was his favourite until you lured him away."

"Blehh, what are you gonna do about it?" Winter teased.

“Just wait. My solo’s going to be the crowd favorite during the tour.”

“Sure, sure,” Y/n said with a laugh, already sensing the playful rivalry brewing. “But you’ll all kill it, and you know it.”

“Still doesn’t mean we’re letting you off the hook!” Ningning declared, shaking her head as if in mock disappointment. “This isn’t over, Y/n. You’ll see. I’ll win you over eventually.”

As they continue to bicker, the mood turned somber as it dawned on them that the concert started tomorrow. There was a mixture of excitement and nerves in the air, but Y/n could tell the girls were more than ready. They’d worked hard, and now, it was time to show the world what they were made of.

“So, how’s everyone feeling about tomorrow?” Y/n asked, leaning back in his chair and glancing around the table.

Karina was the first to speak. “Honestly? I’m a little nervous. It’s not our first tour, but the scale is huge. But I think we’re ready. We’ve put in the work.”

Ningning chimed in, her voice filled with excitement. “I can’t wait! I’ve been practicing my solo song every night. I’m going to blow everyone and you away.”

"Pff. You're not letting me the hook again…"Y/n sighed.

“Same,” Giselle added with a grin. “Though I might pass out from exhaustion halfway through.”

Winter, who had been unusually quiet, finally spoke up, a small smile playing on her lips. “I’m just excited to see the fans’ reactions. This tour is going to be so fun, I can feel it.”

Y/n watched them all, feeling a sense of pride wash over him. He had been there through every step of their journey, from the stressful rehearsals to the emotional wins. And now, they were about to embark on something even bigger—a world tour that would cement their place in history.

“Girls,” Y/n said, his voice softer now, “no matter what happens tomorrow, you’ve already proven yourselves. MYs love you, and this tour is going to be amazing because of all the hard work you’ve put in. I’ve seen it firsthand. You’ve grown so much.”

The girls smiled, the tension easing from their shoulders at his words. It was true—they had grown, and so had he. The struggles of the past seemed so distant now, replaced by a newfound confidence in their abilities.

"…well, for a year, since I started managing you from Drama, so I don't know-"

"Stop ruining the mood, oppa!!" Ningning groaned, earning a laugh from the manager.

“Well, if you’re saying it, we’ll take your word for it,” Karina said with a wink, raising her bowl as if to toast. “To our world tour!”

The others quickly followed suit, raising their bowls and clinking them together in a playful, noodle-filled cheer.

“To the world tour!” they echoed, laughter filling the room.

As they finished their meal, Y/n couldn’t help but feel a sense of calm settle over him. He was ready—ready for the tour, ready to support the girls, and ready to face whatever challenges came next. After all, if he could survive the chaos of the past few months, he could handle anything.

Before heading to bed, the girls lingered for a while longer, sharing stories and jokes, their bond stronger than ever. And as Y/n cleaned up the kitchen, he felt a warmth in his chest, knowing that, no matter what, they were in this together.

Tomorrow was the start of something incredible. But tonight? Tonight was just for them, a quiet moment before diving to the Synk Road.

[inkmonster21]

Sing for Me

8. Sponsored by the Devil

Cooper Howard × Fem!Reader / The Ghoul × Fem!Reader

She's a singer the nation adores. He's the actor everyone respects. What happens when these two get entangled in a heated affair? Passion, regret, rage, and even murder will commence. From before the bombs drop to the vast wasteland, these two souls live for one another.

Previous Chapter Series Masterlist

Tagged: @fallout-girl219 @harmfulb1tch @themadhattersqueen @one-of-thewalkingdead

AN: Not crazy about this chapter, BUT there is smut at the end so...

I sit at the bar watching the TV. A newscaster babbles on, “As all nations race to secure uranium and control the future of energy, a shortage has emerged, turning even allies into potential competitors. Will energy prices surge this winter and will it lead to an expanded war?” I chuckle softly with the shake of my head, finishing my drink. I see the familiar figure of my old friend. My old friend who sounds like he’s gotten caught up in the communist bullshit. “Sorry you couldn't make it to the party the other night, Charlie,” he looks at me with a blank face. “Guess you had one of your meetings, huh? One of your Communist meetings?” He sighs, taking the seat next to me, “Come on, man.”

“We watched people die together up north fighting against all that horseshit.” He shrugs, “Yeah, and for what?” I scoffed, “What do you mean, for what? For the American dream. We're actors. We make movies, Charlie.”

“Yeah, the American dream has me getting shot in the ass by you all day.” I roll my eyes at his excuse. “You got five acres in Tarzana. I think you're doing all right.” He shakes his head, “It doesn't matter, Coop. Vault-Tec's the fucking devil, man.” I weigh in. “Vault Tech is a shifty company. I’ll give you that. My ex-wife works there. She’s a lot of things, but the devil? Come on now.” “Do you know what "fiduciary responsibility" means?” “Fiduciary responsibility? No, I have no fucking idea. I play a cowboy for a living.”

Charlie goes on, “Okay. So, the U.S. government has outsourced the survival of the human race to Vault-Tec. Vault-Tec is a private corporation that has a fiduciary responsibility to make money for its investors. And how does it make money? By selling vaults.” “That's called capitalism, Charlie.” He continued digging, “But they can't sell vaults if these peace negotiations go through. So Vault-Tec has a fiduciary responsibility to make sure that it doesn't work out.” I can’t even wrap my head around his speech. “Yeah. How are they gonna do that?” He falls flat, “I don't know. You remember that movie we did with Johnny Morton… you were the sheriff and I was some generic Indian?” I disagree, “Come on, man, don't say that. Tall hand Mudlake could talk to horses. You played him with grace and with dignity. It was a great role for you.”

“Morton played a rancher who owned half of Missouri. And what happens when the cattle ranchers have more power than the sheriff?” “The whole town burns down.” “Right. Vault-Tec is a trillion-dollar company that owns half of everything. And after ten years of war, the U.S. government is broker than a joke. The cattle ranchers are in charge, Coop.” I wave at his words again, “Come on, man, you sound like you're in a cult.” He fires back, “And you're sitting here defending a system that's ready to set the world on fire, Cooper. Maybe you're the one in the cult.”

I look away with the roll of my eye. He slides a card on the bar. “Look. You should come to a meeting. You should learn the truth about where your ex-wife works, and what they plan on doing with their employees. For (y/n)‘s sake.” With one final smile, my friend leaves the bar. Leaving me confused and a knot rolling in my chest.

Why the fuck would (y/n) be or any danger with Vault Tech? I stare at the card and begin to dive down a hole I’d rather not be sober for. I raise my hand, gesturing to the bartender, “Bartender, can I get one more?”

~

I caved and went to attend Charlie’s meeting. It was a basic conspiracy for weak-minded individuals. She sits at the front, coffee in hand. “These soldiers that we're fighting abroad, their families, we have more in common with them than we do with the people here in power, the real enemy.” I shake my head, “That's about all the horseshit I can take.” I stand, place my hat back on my head, and make my way to the exit.

“Mr. Howard?” I stop as she addresses me. “I'm sorry, I didn't hear what you said.” I raise my eyebrows at her, “I said that um… this is about all the horseshit I can take.” She smirks, “I didn't realize that America's favorite gunslinger was so sensitive.” She earns soft laughter from her followers. “I have my principles, Miss Williams, that's all.” I try to leave once more but she begins the conversation again, “Uh-huh. And those principles of yours… how much did Vault-Tec pay to take them off your hands?”

“Well, this is America. Everybody has a sponsor, and, uh, I'm not ashamed to earn a living.” She bickers back, “Vault-Tec is the largest company in America. There's a lot of money in selling the end of the world.” I couldn’t take her words. I fire back to her, “Well, I'm sure there's a lot of money in selling a political ideology that ends in breadlines.”

As the crowd gets upset, Charlie stands and backs away with me, “Okay, uh, sorry, this was a mistake. We'll be leaving.” Miss Williams shakes her head, coming to stand. “Oh, no, I'm-I'm quite glad you brought Mr. Howard today. You see, it happens that I know your wife… or Ex-wife. And perhaps a side of her you don't.”

I walk out and she follows close on my heels, catching up by my side. “How do you know my ex-wife?” “My research company was acquired by her division. We were developing this kind of technology that's… difficult to monetize. Cold fusion. Infinite energy. Several projects were advancing. Synthetic creations. That's what I was on the verge of achieving when Vault-Tec swept in and bought up every company I'd ever worked for.” I stare at her with no hesitation, “Every one of them? So, what are you, a millionaire communist?”

“Hypocrisy is like violence in your movies. If you only let the bad guys use it, the bad guys win.” “Yeah? I, uh, I got a little showbiz secret for you. A good bad guy doesn't see themselves as the bad guy.”

She pushes more, “America has been locked in a resource war for over a decade. Vault-Tec bought the means to end that war, the same war you fought in, so they could put it on the shelf. All because it didn't fit into their business model. I want your help in getting it back.” She passes a small device into my palm. I roll the small object in my fingers, “What is it?” “It's a listening device.”

I nod, disbelief running through my mind. “A listening device. You… you want me to spy on them?” I chuckled softly, passing it back, “Good luck with the revolution.” She shakes her head, “You can keep it. As a token.” She sighs, “I'm not a communist, Mr. Howard. That's just a dirty word they use to describe people who aren't insane.” I meet her with silence. She speaks once more in a hushed voice, stepping closer, “I understand you have a fond relationship with Ms. (L/n). If I were you, I’d be keeping her at a distance from Vault Tech. They have plans for her.” I clenched my jaw, “what the hell are you on about?” She taps the small listening device before turning on her heel and returning to her meeting.

~

I sit on the couch bouncing my knee, paranoid, thinking the worst of what could happen to (y/n). They could kidnap her. Keep her trapped in one of those damn vaults. They could kill her!

To add to the stress, we were about to set Janey down and talk to her. I roll the divine in my pocket overthinking the worst. My nerves got the best of me, and I gave up, going to the pip-boy on the counter. The divide pairs within seconds. Just in time for Barb to walk out and retrieve the bulky oversized wrist technology. She straps it onto her wrist before looking at me, eyebrows raised. “Are you ready?” I nod, “Yeah. I'll be out there in just a minute.”

She nods and exits the house. I watch as she sits down with Janey. I place the listening divide in my ear, clearly hearing Barb and Janey from outside. Roosevelt whines causing me to shake my head. There was no logical reason to believe anything those conspiracy theorists had to say. “You're right, Roosevelt,” I tuck the small device into my pocket, “What are you thinking?”

Janey has to be the smartest, and most intelligent little girl in the world. I had been very honest in explaining how her mother and I just didn’t feel the same and how we were going to be living away from each other. She knew something had been off for months. She had no issue expressing her feelings and opinions on the scheduling. “As long as daddy and (y/n) can take me for ice cream every other Friday!” I smile at Janey, while Barb does not. She simply ignores it.

~

The sun rose on Saturday morning, kissing the land of California. I stand on the back patio with a cup of coffee just taking in the beauty. It had been a month to the day since Cooper and I started dating. Life was good. I was happy. He was here more days out of the week than not. I couldn’t think of a better day than today to tell him the news.

The sliding glass door catches my attention. Cooper walks out, coffee in hand and a smile on his face. He wraps an around around me, nuzzling into my neck. “Good morning.” It’s such a perfect paradise with him at this moment. “Good morning, love.” I lean back into him, rubbing my fingertips up his arm, tracing each speck and freckle. “I have a surprise for you.” He looks down, trying to find a hint within my soul. “What type of surprise?” I turn around in his hold, now facing him. “A good one. I think you’ll be pleased with it.” He trails a finger down the front of my chest, dipping into my robe, brushing my concealed skin. “Wouldn’t happen to be you would it?” I shake my head, moving out of his grasp before I get caught up. “Nope. Get dressed Mr. Howard because we are going on a little adventure.”

We both get ready and exit my house. I get into the driver's seat before he can argue. "So where are we going?" I smirk at him as I begin to drive to the secret location. "You'll see."

We pass the line in Bakersfield and Cooper looks at me, even more confusion in his eyes. 30 more minutes down the line we pull up to a gate. I flip the keypad and enter the entrance code. The large gate slides open and I drive up the start of a long gravel driveway. Cooper looks at the surroundings in awe. The lush land filled with vegetation, and life. "6 acres on each side. There's a big barn in the back. I figured Sugarfoot could have his own space." Cooper sits silently as we pull up to the large cabin. I park the car and turn off the engine. I exit with a smile. "Are you coming?"

Cooper gets out of the vehicle, mouth gaping as he tries to make sense of the situation. "What did… Is this…" I grab his hand, intertwining our fingers. "It's ours." I pull the keys from my pocket and dangle them in front of his face. "How did you do this?" I waved my hand at him, "It was nothing. Heather and her boyfriend are sold in California. I offered them my house at an amazing rate, and I was able to get this place up here."

I squeeze his hands with a nervous smile. "I knew this was a risk. A huge one, but I know we had talked about it before, and it was just the perfect opportunity. It just… felt right." Cooper finally breaks into a smile, he hoists me up into his arms. I laugh in surprise, "What in the world are you doing?" He smiles charmingly down at me. "Well, I'm carrying you through the threshold of our new home, sweetheart." Nothing could be better than this moment. He passes through the doorway, the warmth of the cabin enveloping us in its glow.

"What you say we… break in a few rooms? See if the acoustics are good for that angelic voice of yours. I want you to sing for me, honey. Just the way you know I like." He kisses up my neck mumbling into my skin. Room by room Cooper drew orgasm from me. Each one is stronger than the last.

He carries me from the kitchen counter to the long hallway, posting me up on the wall, fucking into me with long thrusts. I moan out loudly the sound carrying through the halls. Cooper smirks, biting his lip as he hears my echoed pants bouncing off the walls.

''That's my girl,'' Cooper rumbled out, pressing his fingers into my cheeks, forcing me to glue my eyes on him. I summoned every ounce of strength I had to begin lifting my hips away from him. I couldn't take anymore, and he knew it. The pressure eased as his girth slowly withdrew from the depths of my sensitive walls. He pushes me into the wall further, deepening his thrusts.

I mewled involuntarily to his sudden way to keep me still. ''I don't think I can-'' I managed to blurt out, despite the trembling rushing through my entire body as his strong hands held me firmly in place.

''Of course, you can, sweetheart.'' He cooed through a strained groan. The stretch of his length was just right, so satisfying that made me want to writhe and squirm on top of him, to lose myself in the rawness of the moment. The friction of our bodies, the sound of our combined breaths, the intoxicating scent of cigarettes and expensive perfume hanging heavy in the air.

''Cooper,'' I cried out from the immense fullness of his length, unable to contain the bliss as every nerve in my body was set on fire. One of his hands traced a path up the curve of my side, his touch sending electric tingles through my skin, each movement leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.

He exits my heat, earning a whine from me. He moves us to lie on the sofa. He guided me to sit on his lap, lining his length up again. He kisses up my spine. He lifted one hand from my hip, a tender touch that trailed the expanse of my body until it reached my face and cupped my cheek to tilt my head downwards, coaxing me to meet his gaze.

Cooper leaned close, his breath warm against my ear, "Show me what a good cowgirl you can be." He murmured, the boom of his voice low and primal. As soon as he spoke those words, my hips jerked into action. I leaned back against his chest, grinding down on him, rising and falling on his cock like a bitch in heat.

''That's right, sweetheart,'' Cooper strained,  breathless mumbling reverberated through the warm cabin. He slipped a hand from my hips and with ease, he directed his attention to the most sensitive bud of nerves.

His touch met the tender flesh, I gasped at the sensation, the smooth pad of his finger gliding over the bundle of my clit. Cooper groaned from behind, ''You just keep riding me like that," He helped put motion into my movement. I was a mess, sobs escaped as the pleasure ripped through me.

I surrendered myself completely to him once more, needing nothing but him. Always him. Mustering up all the strength in my legs, I bounced on him even harder than before. My walls tightened around Coooper's length, and my climax finally burst. The waves crash causing me to see stars.

With each clench, I felt him twitch from inside. I lean back as he says, "Stay inside, Cooper." He sucked in a breath, biting into the skin of my shoulder. His thrusts are relentless as he pursues his release. All it took was a few more thrusts, and his body was convulsing beneath me, his movements seeming almost otherworldly while he emptied himself inside my cunt.

He lurched forward, dragging me close to his bare chest. He slowly rolled us over, his cock slipped free. I sighed heavily, but satiated and nestled into him. "Home sweet fucking home." Cooper leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead. ''I say we broke in every fuckin inch of this place, sweetheart."

[nerdieforpedro]

We need to be on the same page

Chapter 6 of Weddings 101 with Dieter Series

Dieter Bravo x Maya (plus size OFC)

This blog and fic are for readers 18+ MDNI

Summary: The fallout from the pictures begins and Dieter’s PR leader Vanessa is here to help, we think. Zack is just trying to stay employed. Dieter and Maya make a critical decision. Oscar might actually be useful.

Word Count: 3836

Warnings: naked people, a bad Beyoncé joke, messing with your assistant, some angst, no Cheetos or tequila were harmed in his chapter, sexual tension? or she might not be that into you dude, plotting, being an asshole sister in law, anxiety, I might have a good use for Oscar finally

Notes: This took me a while because I don’t like having loose ends and I wanted to build the drama! Not that there isn’t enough. 😆 With this chapter, this fic is my longest one to date, I'm proud of all the different directions it goes into. I have even more plans for them. 🫡

Main Masterlist/ Dieter Bravo Masterlist/ AO3 Link

Today was one of the days that Zack did not look forward to. He was at the villa at ten in the morning. The photos were everywhere, Vanessa had blown up his phone for information and face-timed him from the jet. He needed to warn both Dieter and Maya that she was coming. Maybe it would be good… “No, I'm lying to myself. Vanessa will question everything. Will I even have a job? She seemed mad though Mr. Bravo’s happy. Doesn’t that count for something? It’s not with drugs.” Walking up to the front door, he was going to use his key when he heard some giggling. “I just…I’ve seen Dieter naked. It’s kinda a requirement of the job. Just not Ms. Maya, she’s a nice lady.” He decided to knock loudly on the door, the giggles ceased and he heard footsteps heavy toward the door. 

“Who’s banging on my door this damn early?! You better get out of here!”

“Dee at least ask who it is.”

“I don’t care, it could be the president, pope or, no Beyonce could come in.”

“I am not meeting Beyonce in my robe. My hair is a mess, my face is puffy, I haven’t showered yet…that’s not who it is!”

“I mean, if she shows up on this door, she’s gonna have to be okay with my bare ass, balls and your robe with your cute puffy face. It’s just us. You don’t need one. I’m just going to take it back off to eat you for-.”

“MR. BRAVO IT’S ME ZACK! YOUR ASSISTANT!” He screamed, he didn’t need to hear Dieter removing anything off of Maya or eating her in any capacity, they can do that after he leaves later. Never any filter with this damn man, he just needs to remind himself of his loans. This is for your loans. This job is getting you out of debt.

“Oh! Why didn’t you say so?” Dieter opens the door as Maya yells at him not to. She grabs the throw blanket off the couch and wraps it around Dieter's waist. Zack appreciates that someone has some sense of when to be naked and when not to be. 

“Good morning Ms. Maya. Hi Dieter.” The assistant enthusiasm only was on display for Maya who gave him a smile and a hello. Dieter sucked his teeth. 

“Hey! Why do you greet her like that? I’m your employer! Be happy to see me, dammit!” Bravo fussed and took a hold of the blanket that Maya had been holding. He needed to pull it up so he wouldn’t step on it. 

Zack set his messenger bag on the couch and made a mental note of which throw blanket that was. It would need to be washed later after being thrown on Vanessa first. Maybe in her face. 

“Have either of you turned on the TV or looked at your phones? I did try calling both of you, but I assume-” Zack trailed off. He took a good look at them both. Dieter had scratches on his shoulders and chest peppered with bruises. His neck has several hickeys and so did Maya’s. She on the other hand appeared to have bruises that resembled fingers maybe? Zack didn’t want to think too much about it. “You both were otherwise occupied.” He sat down in the overstuffed chair. Dieter sat in the middle of the couch with Maya on one end, he draped part of the blanket over her legs since her robe hit mid-thigh.

Maya shakes her head. “No. We haven’t. Is there something Dieter should be concerned about?”

“It’s something both of you should be concerned about Ms. Maya.” Zack sighs and pulls out his iPad. On it, he loads up Google and type in Dieter’s name. The first ten links are to various sites that have pictures and speculations about Maya and Dieter, their relationship, who she is, what he’s doing with her and all sorts of nonsense. Thankfully, the negative comments are at a minimum, most were wondering if Dieter was making a turn for the better after his two week long marriage to Anika. 

Dieter thought he’d been careful. The boutique had been cleared, he thought. The jet he hadn’t been concerned about much of anything except getting her to ride with him so that one’s on him. The restaurant was supposed to only have VIPs, others who wouldn’t care about him being there with someone. Outside of the wedding venue could have been anyone. He hadn’t been thinking on that one either, well other than spending time with Maya that is. Now he’s involved her without her full consent. “Dammit…” He turned to say something to her, anything, but she’d gotten up and walked upstairs. He stood to go after her but Zack called after Dieter.

“Sir, if you’re going to have a conversation with any meaning, at least put underwear on. Also Vanessa just texted and she’s an hour out. No word on what the plan is yet. Don’t say anything stupid to Ms. Maya. She’s…” The assistant’s voice trailed off as Dieter stood next to his chair naked with his hands on his hips.

“She’s what Zack? Maya is funny, wonderful, gorgeous and so damn soft. I better not catch you looking at-“

“Mr. Bravo. I was going to say she’s a normal person like me who’s likely freaked out about suddenly having her picture everywhere and her life questioned by people she doesn’t know. Also I don’t see her that way. I don’t see you or anyone that way. I don’t form attachments like that at least not right away and it needs to be the right person.”

“That’s right, you’re Demi-sexual right? I keep forgetting that.”

Zack massages his temples, his boss has gotten sidetracked. “Task at hand sir. Ms. Maya is freaking out. Reassure her with pants on.” He knew to keep it short so Bravo wouldn’t lose focus again.

“Right, I’m off. Tell Nessa we’ll be down shortly.” Making his way up the stairs, he quickly went into his room, tossed on some boxers and took a deep breath. “Taking advantage of this would be wrong…right?” Daisy nips at his toes. “Hey girl, you gave us some privacy last night? Thanks.” He picks her up and scratches behind her ears. “I want her to stay with us Daisy. I know she has her own stuff, but couldn’t it be part of mine? We could have our stuff.” The goat licks a bite mark on his neck, “Maya’s a bit rough with me Daisy. It’s been a long while since I’ve been handled like that.” The low chuckle at the memory had him curious when the next time would be, if there would be a next time.

In Maya’s room:

“Oh my god, oh my god….nononono…” Panic was taking over, what did this all mean? Is she going to need to change jobs? Her name? What do people even do in this situation? Is she just going to be some quiz show question? That’s not how Maya wants to be on Jeopardy. Pacing in her room, she hears her phone vibrate.

Maya picked up her phone and saw twenty missed calls, ten of which were from Elyssa. Her mother congratulated her for snagging not only a nice man but a rich one. Her little brother Michael said to call him, he needs to talk to this man who has her out all over the place. Her two older brothers said the same thing but told her that they won’t recognize him as a brother in law unless he passes a few tests. There were increasingly frantic texts from the bride demanding to know the following:

Why she brought a celebrity to her wedding?

Why she was trying to sabotage her?

Is it because the entire time she’s dated Michael, Maya’s always been alone?

Did you go into debt paying him to come with you? 

Or is this how you were able to afford coming out to the wedding in the first place?

“What the hell are they all talking about about Dieter is not…he’s…well. Maybe…” Her conviction is wavering but she can’t stay with Dee. She has work, a life, but the last few days have been nothing short of wonderful. “And last night was…”

“I thought between last night and this morning things were great, superb even. Am I wrong?” Strolling in her room wearing a pair of navy boxer briefs that hung just below the swell of his tummy, Dieter crossed his arms watching Maya stop her pacing. She looked up at him, feeling embarrassed, frustrated, pissed and if she was honest with herself, happy. Unable to meet his gaze, she kept her eyes on her phone, re-reading Elyssa’s texts. Dieter peered over her shoulder and clicked his tongue. “She really has nothing better to do then text you that? That woman is insufferable. I’d feel bad for your little brother if it didn’t sound like he was threatening me too. Doesn’t he know I have a goat?” 

Wrapping his arms around her, Maya her initial laugh turned into a sigh and leaned back against Bravo’s chest. “They’re just worried, though they don’t need to be.”

“Is that what you call it? I’d say they’re over-protective. And Elyssa is being a bitch with those questions. Anyway, forget all that, sit down.” Dieter tugs her over to the bed and has Maya sit across his lap with her legs to one side. She tried to stand up, but she still got his strong arms wrapped around her. “We need to talk cariño (sweetheart.)”

“I know. I’ll go to the hotel. Things should blow over right?” Still looking at her phone, thumbing through her Instagram. There are mostly curious comments, a few mean and racist ones, a couple others were congratulatory. Bravo takes her phone and tosses it on the bed. “Dee, what the hell?” Finally, she’s looking at him, with surprise and fear on her face.

“I know you’re scared Almond Joy. I also know you never asked for any of this, to be associated which a guy who’s known for fucking up everything he touches except for easels, scripts and KitKats.” A kiss to her shoulder has her stiffen, then relax. “I also…don’t want you to leave.” Maya’s watching his eyes again. They look the same as last night, burrowing within her. 

“I can’t. You know I can’t. I’m not like you Dieter.” Shutting her lids tight is the only way not to be drawn in by his cocoa pools. Putting an arm around his shoulder, her hand lands on his back where she’s scratched him. 

“I know you’re not Maya. That’s part of what makes you so majestic. The trust you have in me, the fun, some other things you might still have in you.” Her fingers pinched his cheek. 

“Be serious! I’m not built for that type of scrutiny Dee and we’re not even toget-“

“But what if we were? Together? I mean it’s pretty muddled but you snap me back in to focus. We can just date. I’m not saying you have to stay here, we just see each other when we can. Video calls and I’ll come see where you live and-“

“You’ll tell me it’s beneath me and I need to be somewhere else because I only live once or something right?” The quick peck to his lips paused his thoughts. “Is that what our relationship becomes? Calls and visits? I…” Maya laments, she just has to say it, but she can’t. “Just let me go. I can’t…” Slipping out of Dieter’s arms, she steps away from him only to be in front of the same mirror from last night. Where he showed her how beautiful he believes her to be. Her hands are in her face again. She’s frightened but he’s thinks it’s not only the prospect of being on display for people.

Instead of approaching her from behind Bravo stands in front of her, “Ahora relájate y deja que cuide de ti (Relax now and let me take care of you).” Dieter places his hands on hers and moves them, she allows him to without a fuss. Her eyes are closed and there are tears at the edges, his lips wipe them away. “Let me. I’m not saying you’ll be a kept woman. You know that’s not what I mean. Just be honest with me, like you were last night. Tell me what you want.”

Maya knows he’s giving her a huge opening. She’s been fighting what she wants. She told herself it’s just for now, and then it was until the wedding was over. But Dieter’s offering it to her, why can’t she just say it?! “I..I…want. I want to stay with you. Be silly, wake up with you and do more fun things. Like the beach, swimming, brunch, just a drive. I don’t want to worry anymore. I’d like…” Dieter places his forehead against Maya’s as her tears fall. He doesn’t wipe them away this time. Just lets her continue. “I’d like to be fussed over, just some. Not in a weird dominating way but like…a soft way. Like am I okay, do I need anything, does that feel good, would you like more, do you even like that, what do you want to do today, what are your favorite foods and colors…Ugh…that was way too much. I can’t-“

“No. You can Maya. Be greedy. Ask for my time. Tell me to give you all you want. I don’t know if I can but I can damn well try. Mi mujer perfecta (My perfect woman).” He kisses her forehead and cups her face with his large hands. Her eyes are red and puffy. “I’ll say it again. I don’t want you to go Kit Kat. Just stay and worry about yourself. Please.”

“I feel like I’m watching a romance film right now. My, my…It looks like we won’t need to manufacture a real relationship between the two of you.” A woman of about five feet seven inches with auburn hair and matching butterfly tattoos on each arm. She wore a sleeveless navy blue slim fit dress with black red bottom heels. Her red tote bag swayed with her steps toward the couple. “Sorry to interrupt darlings, such a sweet moment, but we need to go ahead and decide how we want the chips to fall.” She smiled, patting Maya’s shoulder, studying her wet face. This Maya is cute, she almost wants to pinch her cheek. That didn’t matter much, what would matter is what these two decided to do. “My name is Vanessa. I’m the leader of Dieter’s PR team. Meet me downstairs when you two are dressed, don’t take too long. There’s much to discuss.” The fixer disappeared out of the room and back down the stairs to Zack, it looks like there was a lot he left out in his updates.

Back downstairs, Zack was being questioned by Vanessa after she peeked in on Dieter and Maya. She found out that Dieter had invited Maya on his jet after her flight was canceled. Since then, they’d grown closer and outside of one small sniff of a seat (Zack left out that it was coke on Maya’s seat - told her it was ecstasy). He also told her about Oscar’s fights with Dieter and the goat bite. Vanessa said she was aware of that one not the guitar one though. She said that she would table the idea of using Oscar in that manner, instead, why was Maya coming to Hawaii in the first place. Zack then remembered it was for a wedding, though who knows what’s happening with it now. From what he’s gathered, the bride, Maya’s future sister in law sounds like an asshole and crazy. Vanessa was making notes in a small pad she removed from her tote. “A plan is brewing Zack. You’ll need to actually keep me informed instead of pieces of information.”

”Yes ma’am. It’s just…Ms. Maya is really nice and Dieter seems somewhat sane with her. As sane as he’s going to be. It’s nice. No woodwind or brass instruments so far this week. I don’t know what his deal with the instruments is either. So weird. Or crazy parties. And I haven’t seen any toys askew but they could have just cleaned up which is still pretty nice and-“” Zack paused. “Just see how they are with each other, you’ll see.” 

Soon Maya and Dieter came downstairs fully dressed, Maya in a simple pink dress, flowing with wide sleeves and skirt. She’d cleaned her face but it was slightly red around the eyes and ends of her ears. Dieter had on a pair of black shorts with a white tee and sunglasses on his head. They sat on the couch and held hands. Zack and Vanessa watched their body language, in addition to them holding hands, Maya was leaning onto his shoulder and their knees were touching. If…they were seen like this out and about and if someone for whatever reason did an interview with them, it would reflect well for Dieter. Despite actually marrying that woman Anika, their interactions (outside of what happened in their bedroom) reflected two people that weren’t comfortable with each other and were distant. 

“Have you two decided what you want to do? It’s not really ideal for the start of any relationship, but at the very least we’ll be able to sell you two as being in a legitimate relationship.” With her white manicured nail, she drew an imaginary circle around the pair. “The way your two sit in silence with each other is excellent. I take it, a decision has been made?” Vanessa placed her elbow on the top of her bent knee. 

Maya squeezed Dieter’s hand and nodded, letting him talk, “Yeah we have Nessa.”

Later that evening…

Oscar was not pleased, what he woke up to was mostly positive headlines about Dieter Bravo. How happy he looked, how content, was it because of the new woman in his life? Was it something else? Maybe he came to Hawaii to rest and recharge and that’s why he looks like he has not a care in the world.  Issac’s plan had severely backfired, worse yet, his assistant informed him that he’d received a call from Vanessa La Roux’s office. Oscar is aware of who she is and has only one dealing with her before and that ended poorly, where he had to take a sabbatical afterward. 

Hanri knocked on Oscar’s hotel room door, he’d done as his boss asked and felt horrible about it. He was dropping off his boss’ usual order of tequila and three bags of hot Cheetos that he likes to eat in the evening. He had been propositioned by Vanessa and happily agreed to get her in the hotel and a private meeting with Mr. Issac. After getting her in, he left her to it and headed back to his room with his money. Oscar heard the door and called for the young man to bring him his snack.

“Good evening Oscar. Hanri is otherwise occupied.” Vanessa tilted her head and smiled, setting a bottle of tequila and the bags of cheetos on the end of the actor’s bed. “We have quite a bit to discuss tonight. You’ll need to be sober for this. After we talk you can drown yourself in your choice of drink.” She pulled up a chair and sat across from Oscar who was naked except for a soft eggshell robe that was wrapped around him.

“I figured you’d pop up at some point you damn she-devil. I guess my fun’s over. How much do I need to pay you to leave your little goat lover alone this time?” He remarks as he sips his red wine, expecting an outrageous number from her. It’s not like he hadn’t paid Vanessa and Dieter’s team before. Oscar enjoyed pissing Bravo off by any means. Their business ran on public opinion and numbers - no matter if it was scores, awards, stars, money, age, you name it, it could have a number. 

“No, no, no Oscar. You don’t get to just pay me this time. If it was just messing with Dieter, that’s one thing, but-“ Vanessa stood and snatched a bag of cheetos, ripping it so they spilled on the floor. “-you’ve not only been stalking him. Something you said you’d never do again, you also leaked pictures of him and his girlfriend, who hadn’t settled on being in the public eye yet and now she has to. No cheetos for you.” Grabbing a fist full of Oscar’s hair, she tugged on it. “You’re going to follow Dieter and Maya to the wedding and you’re going to do exactly as I tell you. Then we can talk about money and I can use it to fund another studio for Dieter.”

Sucking his teeth, Oscar nods and takes a swig of his tequila, the fixer lets go of his hair and extends her hand. They grip hands and shake, sitting back down. “What do I have to do jefa (boss)?” He attempted to touch her knee but she slapped her hand away. “Ahaha, You’re really serious aren’t you? Well jefa, that just makes the reward that much hotter doesn’t it?” His snicker has Vanessa shift her weight from side to side.

Looking over her shoulder, she sneered. “That was only one time. Don’t test your luck Issac. I’ll be in touch.” She walks out leaving him to his late night snack. “You know you’re too old to be drinking like that, it was that same tequila that got you and Dieter on a lifetime ban from The Muppets.” 

Oscar smiled as he stood and walked up behind Vanessa. Not touching her, just leaning over her shoulder to meet her face a few inches away. “I don’t recall you saying that in the green room when I had my Count cape on, and that wasn’t just one time. Unless you count it as one within a certain time period.” She exhaled and continued toward the door and Oscar followed her, but gave her more space, holding the door open for her. “I’ll take your ever so thoughtful advice mi jefa.” He takes a bow as she walks out. 

On her way down to the car, Vanessa whips out her phone and texts Zack to tell Maya (as she’ll actually make sure Dieter’s on time) to ensure that they are at the dress rehearsal for the wedding on time tomorrow. Thankfully, it’s only some family stuff that Maya can skip and she mentioned after their talk that she would be having lunch with her mother. 

The stage is prepared except for a few pieces here and there. This wedding rehearsal will be a vivid experience for all those in attendance. Vanessa was counting on it for Dieter’s sake, it was her job after all.

The Trash Panda Possse 🦝: @megamindsecretlair @pedritapascal @pascalsanctuary @nissaimmortal @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@soft-persephone @saturn-rings-writes @readingiskeepingmegoing @harriedandharassed @yorksgirl @bishtrouille

@missladym1981

Chapter 5 Chapter 7

[the-path-to-redemption]

Long Post Ahead

So, I just rewatched the first episode of Ice Queendom, and MY GOD, did it just pisses me off even more when I looked at the entire series as a whole.

It set up the characters, the dynamic, the pacing, and the motivation so fucking well that I'm more than just disappointed that the entire series derailed at the end. The first episode was amazing, and I think that's why many of us wanted to give the franchise another chance.

Already in the first 5 minutes of the episode, we were shown what we always wanted from canon RWBY: Yang's interaction with Summer's grave and how she felt about her mother. Hell, she even calls Summer "Mama", and gives her a wink as she embraces Ruby who just told Summer about her sister's admission to Beacon. It establishes their family dynamic, which only furthers when we see Tai interacting with his daughters.

He jokes with Yang and talks to her about their family having an outing, he goes with her to Vale to check on Ruby when she's late with the present, and they both wait for Ruby at the police station. He even sent them off on the airship. Where the fuck was this guy in the canon?? Ice Queendom actually managed to make him believable as a single father who's trying his best to support his girls, instead of someone sitting around in his house doing nothing.

The first episode also established the Schnee family so fucking well as a contrast to the Xiao Long-Roses, with Weiss already too familiar with her mother's day drinking habit and her tense relationship with Whitley, who was given a moment of complexity! What the fuck, they actually feel like siblings who never connected because their parents are never there for them without villainizing neither kids for feeling the way they do.

It even shows, in the end, how Weiss felt about her grandfather. Which had it been written by capable writers, we could've seen Nikolas Schnee from various perspectives. He could've simultaneously been a good family man, a great man whom Weiss idolizes, and a colonizing monster that he is to everyone else, especially to Vacuans whom he spearheaded their decline. There was something here, people, fucking do something about it.

And Blake... oh, baby girl I am fucking mad for you at the end of Ice Queendom. It sets her and Adam up so well, even with him clearly letting her go so that she, in his mind, can truly understand the cruelty of the world and how it treats Faunus. None of that bullshit "abusive relationship" shtick was shown, but rather what we expected of them: they have a fallout due to differing opinions but still aim for the same goal which is Faunus liberation.

But nope, her shadow self was villainized at the end for speaking the TRUTH. Weiss and her family did exploit the Faunus. Hell, Weiss herself in the nightmare clearly groups the exploitative, parasitic board members of her company in the same hostile environment as the people they abuse, the Faunus, who she portrays as monsters. In Weiss' mind, these two groups are the same, and that's fucking horrid. Weiss don't give a fuck about the truth at the end, she's just embarrassed that now everyone she knows sees how much of a fucking racist she is.

Ice Queendom disappointed me, and I hate it.

[ofthecaravel]

I'd Rather Be With You

Sequel to But You Look So Cool

Summary: Happy (????) Holidays!

Tags: Being home with your family for the holidays, The Twins conspiring, shame, doubt, arguing, Danny being a saint, NSFW at the very very end for like 2 secs

Words: 3k

A/N: Itty bitty holiday sequel to my most beloved! Wanted to touch more on Sam's family dynamic and what they've been up to since we left them. Thanks for reading MWAH

~~~

“Oh, my God, you were serious.”

“Did you think I was lying?”

“I mean, a little! Can you blame me?”

The Kiszka twins -home for the holidays, clutching wine glasses, and peeking around a doorway- were struggling to understand just what they were seeing. Not only had Sam brought someone home for Christmas (which is something they had never, ever expected from him, at least not in the state he’d been in for the past couple of years), but he had brought Danny Wagner. Danny fuckin’ Wagner, who stuck out in their collective consciousness for being a consistent presence during their Sunday school days and very briefly being the solitary member of their high school’s golf team. A nice, well adjusted boy with a nice, well adjusted family that he could easily be spending a much merrier Christmas Eve with. But here he was, laughing in the quiet living room of the Kiszka household and going through a photo album with Sam and their sister.  

“Crazy,” Jake murmured into a sip of his wine, shaking his head slightly as Josh nodded thoughtfully next to him. 

“It’s not like I’m mad he’s here,” Josh added, his eyebrows still high in surprise. “It’s just funny to see him next to Sam.”

They did admittedly look a little out of place nestled shoulder to shoulder. Danny’s smiling face was aglow with a wine drunk blush, snuggled up in a well fitting blue sweater and his hair tucked dotingly behind his ear. Sam, on the other hand, had his knees clad in oil stained mechanics pants and pulled up to his chin, looking not unlike an anxious pretzel as he chewed on his thumb and rested his head on Danny’s shoulder. 

“He pierced his ears,” Josh noted as he wiped some crumbs off the chest of his sweater. “Ya think Sam had something to do with that?”

“Definitely,” Jake smiled, his lips still stuck to the lip of his glass. “He probably did it for him. He’s gonna corrupt that sweet kid. Poor guy.”

“He’s been doing better,” Josh argued on behalf of his baby brother. “He’s got a job and his own place now. I swear Mom was gonna start charging him rent.”

“She would never,” Jake hummed, tuning in to the sound of their mother in the kitchen, talking to someone on the phone as dishes clinked in the sink. “He could crash the car into the house and she’d forgive him.”

“I guess the standards have been set pretty low,” Josh mumbled. Jake sighed a little and Josh cringed at his own words, slotting another cookie into his mouth and pulling out his phone.

He’d meant it as a joke, but it was still weird to even allude to everything that had gone down with their dad. It was hard to ignore, mostly when they were all together. It made it all the more obvious that someone was missing from the equation. Sure, he was a phone call away, but none of the siblings really wanted to talk to him. The twins were already graduating when their dad had been arrested, and they quickly escaped the immediate fallout with the titles of valedictorian, salutatorian, and two full ride scholarships that they rode the hell out of town. Ronnie had escaped into time with their mom and a myriad of friends to disappear in. And Sam…Sam had found his escape in means that only added to the fallout of the situation. 

So, yeah. The joke didn’t land. 

Especially during December. The family that used to fill their house simply didn’t bother to come by anymore, leaving only the immediate family to desperately try and revive a festive cheer that none of them really believed in anymore. Sam had barely attended the past few gatherings, and Jake and Josh had skipped them altogether under the pretense of their busy lives and jobs in Detroit. So imagine the oddity of having someone know all of the tension that would come with their awful little Christmas party and deciding to come anyway. 

“It’s just weird, dude,” Jake said plainly, finishing off his drink and setting it down loudly. “Kinda thought we’d be the ones bringing people home to try and fill the silence.”

“He’s making us look bad,” Josh chuckled, making a fond noise in response to seeing Danny give Sam a quick kiss to the forehead. “Look at that! What witchcraft has he been cooking up in his shitty little basement to swing that?”

“Love potions,” Jake responded in a silly voice and they both erupted into harmonizing giggles. 

The three on the couch looked up in confusion at them, which only made them laugh harder. Sam bristled instantly and Danny turned to see his eyes flicker with insecurity before glazing into a cold glinting squint.

“Shut the fuck up!” Sam barked, immediately (and correctly) assuming they were laughing at his expense.

“Sam!” their mom yelled from the kitchen, and Sam immediately closed his mouth and continued to glare stormily at his snorting brothers. 

“What’s funny?” Danny asked innocently, applying a gentle pressure to Sam’s shoulder with his own to try and calm him a little. Sam had been touchy for days leading up to this and Danny was honestly running out of ideas on how to soothe him.

“Nothing, nothing,” Jake said coolly, turning his back on them to return a bottle to their bar cart.

“He’s drunk,” Josh accused teasingly, exchanging an amused look with Danny that made Danny ease up ever so slightly.

“He’s an idiot,” Ronnie quipped, which Sam passionately nodded in agreement with. 

“You’re an idiot,” Jake retorted, his words carrying no bite as he and his sister traded mocking faces at each other while Danny watched with a shy smile. While the bickering continued, he looked over at Sam and melted a little at the sight. Around his siblings, Sam seemed smaller and softer than when he was trying to put on a suave front when he was on his own. Danny had obviously seen through that facade over a year ago, but Sam still attempted to carry himself with that same edge that Danny had fallen for but never really bought. However, in his childhood home surrounded by family and the ghosts of dynamics established long ago, there was no hiding for Sam. He was a little boy in a leather jacket being picked on lovingly by his big brothers and sister, and while Danny knew that Sam was going to be annoyed for the rest of the night, he really couldn’t help but find the whole scene adorable. 

“Danny is very tired and we are going to bed!” Sam finally shouted over his jabbering siblings, holding onto Danny’s arm and tugging to try and get him to his feet. 

“Aw, lame, Sam, come on!” Jake cackled while Danny gave Sam a look of confusion and amusement as they both stood up. “We were all gonna stay up until midnight and throw rocks at Santa’s sleigh.”

“I thought we were seducing him,” Josh complained, clearly much more into his idea. 

“Well, give him my number, then,” Sam countered. “Or throw a rock in my honor. I can’t be around you assholes for a minute longer.”

“That’s not very festive of you, Sammy,” Ronnie frowned, pulling on his sleeve as Sam attempted to shuffle Danny across the room almost as if he were a human shield. “Come on, stay.”

“I really am tired,” Danny said with remorse, giving all of Sam’s siblings a sincerely sympathetic smile. “But we’ll be up bright and early for presents, I promise.”

“You’re the sweetest, Danny,” Jake replied, clapping Danny on the back as they passed. “Don’t know why you bother with this street urchin.”

Sam rolled his eyes but Danny felt the genuine shiver of irritation from him as Josh and Ronnie hummed similar sentiments about Danny and Sam being…Danny and Sam.  

“Goodnight, you guys,” Danny bid them, giving a little wave as Sam practically dragged him up the stairs. 

--

They had all tossed him enthusiastic and properly festive goodnights as he chuckled and let himself get pulled along by Sam, who let out a frustrated sigh the second they were out of earshot. Danny only got a moment of appreciating the cute, vintage wallpaper of the hallway and the childhood photos hung up before Sam pulled him into his old bedroom and closed the door noisily behind them. Sam immediately collapsed face first into his pillow and let out a muffled groan while Danny cracked his neck and did a little perimeter walk of the room. He ghosted his fingers over posters ripped haphazardly out of magazines and Scotch taped to the wall and sun bleached science fair ribbons. Sam let out another noisy sigh while Danny continued to dote on every tchotchke and think with red cheeks about another time he’d surveyed Sam’s room while Sam vied for his attention. 

“They only razz you because they love you, baby,” Danny hummed, finally turning away from the sweetly dorky photos of Sam and his school peers to smile at Sam sprawled dramatically on his twin bed. 

“I wish they would do it in a way that didn’t remind me I’m such a fantastic fuck up,” Sam spat bitterly, flipping so he was staring up at the ceiling. His eyes were flat and dark in the way that Danny had seen for so many years and his heart fluttered sadly as he sat on the edge of the bed and put a reassuring hand on Sam’s cheek. Sam immediately let out a little huff and nuzzled against his palm.

“You’re really warm,” Danny noted simply as he felt the heat brewing on Sam’s skin.

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m fucking pissed off,” Sam muttered, rolling his eyes dismissively and shaking his head slightly as he stared at the wall and allowed Danny to swipe his thumb over his cheek and smooth his hair.

“You’re not a fuck up, Sam. I hate hearing you say that,” Danny assured Sam, using every ounce of sincerity in his body when he said it. Sam didn’t answer, simply continuing to chew on his lip and petulantly avoid eye contact. 

“Hey, can you look at me when I’m talking to you?” Danny asked sternly.

“Can you stop pretending like I’m some pathetic wimp fishing for a compliment?” Sam snapped, pulling Danny’s hand off of his face and rearranging himself again to stare into the expanse of the room. Danny recoiled slightly, unable to fend off the sting of Sam rejecting his kindness. But after a year of learning how to navigate Sam’s many tantrums and categorizing the roots of the meltdowns, he knew that Sam didn’t mean to hurt him. He never did. 

“Sammy,” Danny said softly, moving further onto the bed and tucking his feet under Sam’s legs. “I know you were really hesitant to come and do this at all.”

“They just make me so mad,” Sam whispered. “There’s just, like, this hole whenever we’re all together. Dad, I mean. His stupid choices and then, you know, my stupid choices. I don’t…I don’t want to be another empty space for them. And I feel like no matter what I do, I’m gonna be that.”

Danny couldn’t stand to give Sam his space for a second longer. He lowered himself to lay behind Sam and Sam immediately turned and buried his head into the crook of Danny’s neck, the both of them awkwardly entangling to keep Sam as close as possible to Danny’s chest while they clung together. There weren’t any tears from Sam, but Danny could feel the shudder in his thin chest as he fought to even out his breathing and calm down.

“And then,” Sam continued weakly, his voice high with emotion as he stumbled over his words frantically. “They’re giving me all that shit about how great you are and how you don’t belong with me. Like I don’t already know that. Fuck, Danny, I’m sorry but I agree with them. You deserve so much better than me and my-”

“Sam-”

“I’m serious, I swear I’m just waiting for you to wake up and realize I’m an asshole with-”

“Sam.” 

Sam, ever the obedient listener even in the midst of a full blown rant, cut himself off with a ragged exhale and pressed his mouth against Danny’s neck to silence himself. Danny held the back of his head and rested his lips right next to Sam’s ear, resisting the urge to nip his earlobe like he usually did when he was this close. 

“Sam,” Danny whispered, soft and smooth and steady. “You know I love you. You know I hate hearing you talk about yourself like this. I know you’ve had a lot of trouble coping with everything since your dad went away, and I know you made a lot of choices that you’re not proud of. But, I mean, you were a kid. A really hurt kid. And you’ve been trying so hard to change from the person you were and frankly, I can hardly believe you can’t see how much you’ve grown in this past year alone. You’re amazing.”

Sam sniffled slightly and burrowed up further against Danny. Danny smiled, his mind fuzzy with fondness as he thought about every instance that proved his own point. Sam, who quietly leafed through self help books rented from the library and wrote down all the tips and tricks he could because he was so determined to stop picking fights with anyone and everyone. Sam, who taught himself to cook with nothing but the cooking channel and the goal of having a new dish for Danny to try every week. Sam, who had worked infuriating shifts at the mechanics to pay for the lovingly hand picked presents for his family that now lay under the tree downstairs. Sam, who Danny loved more than anything.

“You should be with a good man,” Sam breathed, barely audible. “You’re gonna die wishing you hadn’t wasted so much time on me.”

“Good men die too,” Danny replied with a disbelieving laugh. “I’d rather be with you.”

Danny felt Sam’s lips smile slightly against his skin and he kissed his temple, still gently cupping the back of his silken head as his other hand absently doodled soothing shapes on the considerable curve of Sam’s back. If his hand dipped any lower, he’d be tracing the inky wings of the lower back tattoo Sam had surprised him with a few months back. Danny’s cheeks burned thinking about it for a moment too long and he channeled the warmth into pressing more kisses against Sam’s hair.

After a few minutes of silence, Sam pulled away just enough to look up at Danny through his starry lashes and give him a lovelorn smile. 

“Thank you,” Sam whispered sincerely, tucking a frizzy wave behind Danny’s ear with his deft calloused fingers. “I’m sorry for spinning out on you.”

“Family makes everybody crazy,” Danny shrugged, reaching up between them to lightly hold Sam’s chin with his thumb and forefinger. “And you never have to apologize. I’m happy to help.”

Danny tried and failed to smother his smile watching Sam’s pupils blow wide with affection as Danny kept a hold on his jaw. 

“I love you, Sammy,” Danny purred, teasingly brushing his nose against Sam’s. “And for the record, I have never once thought you were bad. You’re actually very, very good.”

“How good?” Sam asked bashfully, his lips parting to let out a shaky smiling breath as he playfully pressed his finger against Danny’s lip. If there was one thing Sam loved, it was hearing mountains and mountains of praise from Danny. And with all things considered, Danny figured he was owed it in.

“So good,” Danny grinned, tapping Sam’s nose. “You’ve always been so good for me, Sammy, right from the start. Such a good listener especially. So gentle and kind and nothing but good. And so, so pretty.”

“Now you’re just buttering me up,” Sam murmured with flushed cheeks, still staring unabashedly at Danny’s lips.

“I’m serious,” Danny rasped, his hand moving to properly cup Sam’s jaw with his fingers pressed right behind his ear. “If I had known how well you take direction, I probably would’ve started bossing you around a lot sooner.”

Sam’s eyes widened slightly and Danny knew he was teetering on the edge of falling deep into a sweet, needy headspace that he’d initially been shocked to uncover. But these days? He counted on it. 

“You want me to boss you around a little, baby?” Danny asked gently. “Do you want to forget your hard night and let me do the thinking for a little bit? And then you can wake up nice and happy on Christmas morning and open all the presents I got you. Does that sound good?”

“Yeah,” Sam breathed desperately. “Please.” 

Despite his impatience, he always knew what Danny wanted to hear from him.

“I didn’t even have to ask you to say please,” Danny delighted, finally giving Sam a kiss but pulling away far too quickly to whisper again. “You’re gonna have to be quiet, okay? I know that’s not your strong suit but we can’t have anyone hearing all your cute little noises.”

Sam nodded eagerly and, with both hands firmly planted on the sides of Danny’s head, pulled Danny into a much longer kiss that had Danny readjusting to pin Sam under him. Under any normal circumstance, Danny would’ve had Sam by the throat for grabbing him the way he did. He would’ve had him on his knees until there were tears in his eyes showing Danny how sorry he was for getting handsy without asking Danny first. But maybe Danny was feeling the holiday spirit a little more than usual and decided to show Sam some mercy. He’d bring it up later after Sam had the nice, black necktie Danny had gifted him as an early present wrapped around his wrists. 

“Love you,” Sam murmured dreamily against Danny’s lips as Danny put his weight on his knees and began moving his hands up to smooth over Sam’s chest and play with his waistband.

“Love you too,” Danny echoed with a mischievous smile. 

He didn’t give the chance for Sam to speak again before his palm muffled Sam’s chatty mouth and stifled his growls and whines until the first rose flush of dawn stretched over the newfallen snow and the lovesick boys tangled in a creaky little bed.

--

[fall0utmind]

Ch 7

Hi

Loved this ch, take as much time as you need to finish this

This is quite long so sorry about that😂(not sorry)

This had to be some elaborate joke, a media ploy from Marc’s team. He simply could not believe that happy, carefree Marc had done this. He settled slightly, yes, of course. It had to be false. Marc would never give up, no matter how bad it had gotten.

At this point he's just trying to convince himself, I mean, the only person he probably maybe though of as an equal wouldn't be so "weak", right? It's like he can't fathom that his actions have consequences that go beyond his own nose

Also why the fuck would Marc even do something like that 'for sympathy', they already hate him enough and the motorsport world is vicious, is vale even thinking logically, I think not

He considered himself an expert in Marc

Maybe you were in 2013-15 but news flash, bitch, people change cause of trauma

Marc was a manipulator; he changed that narrative to suit himself. He would do anything to win, including betraying people he claimed to love

Idk if he even deserves Marc, ever

Maybe we can get another one of his povs when his guilt is eating him alive so I can forgive him

Marc should always be smiling; even going through tragedy, he smiled. The thought of him in pain made him shudder. But he was not in pain, because it was a lie. It was abhorrent to think of it as the truth. It could not be. It went against the very fabric of the universe. It was a bit like this: he hated Marc Marquez, and Marc Marquez was a smug bastard who was always infuriatingly happy. These were two facts that he clung to desperately.

There's A LOT to unpack here, please make him go to therapy (somehow)

He had nothing to be jealous of.

Is he delusional or delusional

It was not his fault the media had broken into Marc’s house. He had not caused the fallout or the hatred

Is he capable of owning up to anything

Why would be so selfish? Why would he do something like that? He was so young. He had so much to live for. What about his family? His brother. It’s not fair. It’s so selfish. I hate him. Bastard.

It's amazing how far he can go, I want to study him under a microscope

Tbh, I don't think he can handle the though that his vision of Marc was not exactly accurate, so he's scrambling to make sense of it, so his world doesn't crumble around him

You are the bastard here

Tell him pecco✊ he's quickly becoming my fav character in this fic , just so fascinating

You do not hate Marc; you are obsessed with him. Yes, you were angry, but that was a decade ago. Surely you are over it by now. If I were you, I would consider what all your feelings about Marc really mean. Before you fuck it up even more.

Luca as always being the voice of reason, we love to see that

For Valentino, Marc was like a drug, inherently bad but at the same time addictive

At least he's aware of that

Every insight was like a punch to the stomach.

Would've copied the whole paragraph but that's too long

Finally we get vale seeing some truths, maybe now he can stop being delulu

I really want him to make some kind of public apology later in the fic, it should be one of the things he does to get Marc to forgive him, everything started with the press, it's only poetic that it 'ends' with the press too, maybe when he supports Marc and somehow retracts his earlier statements, his psycho dogs will back off (not that much hope about the press)(maybe the ita press)

He wanted Marc in every way that he could have him.

You should worship him on your knees for the rest of his life

He will spend the rest of his life on his knees grovelling if he has to. He has spent too long with his vision clouded by misplaced anger. It had taken him 11 years to work out his love for Marquez, he would spend the rest of his life loving him, and every day trying to prove it to him. Even if it killed him.

E-XAC-TLY , I'll be enjoying reading that

Feels like we are in the beginning stages of the vale redemption arc, wonder how long it takes until Marc actually believes him, maybe he can get closer with the academy boys so there's more opportunities for vale to grovel

I just wish these two believed in therapy, especially Vale, they need extensive therapy for at least the next five years

Okay, im finally replying. Again, thank you so much for always taking the time to write these. It makes me so happy.

I'm so glad you wrote that bit about Vale. He is 100% truly ro convinve himself. He can't bear the thought that his actions affected marc. And now he's completely delusional about it. Literally Vale so delusional cause marc hates being vulnerable so why the fuck would he voluntarily make himself seem more vulnerable????

Marc has definitely changed a lot due to Vales actions and the trauma he and media caused. Valentino is only just realising that.

Would you want another Vale pov? I have the next chapter from marcs pov written. Then I could do a Vale, then the final??

I feel like Marc makes Valentino go to therapy (in my head anyways)

Vale is both delusional and incapable of facing the consequences of his own actions lol👀👀 (irl too)

Vale 🫱🏼‍🫲🏽 unable to accept accountability

Also yes yes yes, you're so right about him and marc. Valentino is panicking cause wdym his mental construction of marc isn't even correct?? Crazy!

I also love pecco so much in this fic so I'm glad you do!

Also poor luca as per usual.

Omg, okay, so the public apologies. Hang tight, my friend, because the next chapter will be out in a few days!!! (It's written, I'm just editing). Hoping you'll like where I go with that in terms of the Redemption arc. Because writing this fic got so out of hand now I need to write such an impressive change of character by Vale. Lol.

Again, thank you so ooooo much for your support!!! It means the world!!!

[the-obnoxious-sibling]

in which late night sad topics are broached, buggy comes to his senses (???), and we do need to get out of bed at some point, shanks. there are things happening outside your personal drama, you know.

part seven of the post-marineford portion of the near miss fics! (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6) 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 a fair bit of complaining about writing, one inspirational improvised musical number, and a snippet of shanks pov) if you do know what i’m talking about: i am afraid this fic is turning into a test case for zeno’s dichotomy paradox, where the closer i get to the end the farther away it becomes. >>; i honestly cannot see how it would take me more than 5k to wrap things up, but i said that last time, and the time before that, so… see you in part eight! eta: i almost forgot!! if a moment early on sounds familiar, you may have already seen the huyandere art that inspired it. either way please enjoy the silliness.

Buggy woke with a start, and didn’t know where he was.  The bed was too soft, the person at his back was too warm.  And too close, Galdino had so far always curled up facing the far side of the bed, what was he—Buggy blinked blearily at the faint outline of a sake flask on the nightstand.  Oh, right.  This was Shanks’ room.

The windows above the bed let in a fair amount of moonlight, but the moon was waxing crescent tonight so Buggy couldn’t see much of anything.  He hadn’t thought about it when he decided to stay the night, but he didn’t sleep well in new places.  Stupid to think that just because there was a familiar person that the unfamiliar place wouldn’t still disturb his sleep.

Ah, well.

Buggy moved slowly, not wanting to wake Shanks if he could help it.  It should be possible, they weren’t wrapped up in each other or anything stupid like that… though if Buggy had been asked, he would have imagined Shanks was as clingy asleep as awake.  But no, Shanks was close enough that his body heat had soaked into Buggy’s back, but they weren’t touching.

Buggy stretched a little, yawned a little, and rolled over.  He couldn’t resist the opportunity to see what a fully grown Shanks looked like asleep.  The possibilities were too tempting… what if he had stupidly messy hair, or drool dried on his face, or a big snot bubble on one nostril?

Unfortunately, he wouldn’t get to find out, because it turned out that Shanks was awake.  He was lying on his side, in fact, staring at Buggy.  Biting back a yelp of alarm, Buggy swatted him on the arm.

“What the hell!” he hissed.

“What?”

“Why are you watching me sleep?  That’s so weird!”

“Is it?”

“Very!”

Shanks smiled sheepishly.  “Sorry.  I just couldn’t sleep, I guess, so I was lying here, thinking…” Buggy open his mouth and Shanks immediately put his hand over it.  “I know I set you up for it, but please, no jokes about how hard that must be for me or whatever.”

Buggy made a muffled grumbling sound and shoved Shanks’ hand away.  “Thinking about what, then?”

Shanks glanced away for a moment and sighed. “Well, I guess it is after midnight.”

What did that have to do with anything?  And then Buggy remembered: his moratorium on sad topics had been for one day only.  With a huff, Buggy turned away from Shanks.  He didn’t want to see Shanks’ face while he asked his question.

“Buggy.  Buggy, look at me?  Please?”  Shanks’ hand tugged at Buggy’s shoulder, a silent echo of his request.

Silently groaning—he used to say no to Shanks all the time, when had he lost the knack for it?!—Buggy rolled over and said, “Fine.  But I get my sad question first!”

Shanks considered him.  He nodded.  “That’s fair.”

Great!  If only he’d had one prepared.  Buggy’s thoughts went every which way—what did he want to know, what intel could he get out of Shanks?—before latching onto something totally useless, but also deeply important.  “Did you know?”  Realizing this was stupidly vague, he added, “About the kid?”

Shanks’ brow furrowed.  “‘The kid?’”

“Ace.”

“Ah.”

“Did you know he was Roger’s?”

Shanks sighed and laid down.  Staring at the ceiling, he said, “I… had my suspicions.  When I met him, a couple years back, he told me a lot about himself.  His dreams… where he was born… it was suggestive.  And then there was his name.”

Buggy groaned.  “Who names a kid after their sword?!”

Shanks chuckled.  “Roger.”

Buggy sighed.  “Roger.”  He propped himself up on an elbow to look down at Shanks.  “So he didn’t—no one told you?”  Told you and not me?

Shanks shook his head.  “Who would have?  Who could have?”

Buggy shrugged.  “I don’t know, doesn’t that haki stuff sometimes let you talk in each other’s heads or something?”

Shanks laughed.  “No!  It doesn’t work like that!  How many times—”

“Yeah, yeah, I don’t know how it works, I don’t care how it works!  I just—” Wanted to know if I’d been overlooked again.  “—wanted to know if you knew.”

“No.”  Shanks eyes softened, as if he’d heard Buggy’s real reason.  He reached up to curl the end of Buggy’s ponytail around a finger and tug Buggy closer.  “No, I think the only person Roger told was Garp.”

Buggy made a disgusted noise, which was not at all strangled by his reaction to Shanks’ hand in his hair. (Nope!  That wasn’t provoking any kind of feeling in Buggy at all!) “Garp,” he muttered darkly.  “What the hell was Roger thinking?!”

“Probably that Garp could keep his son safe.”  In the dim light, Shanks’ eyes were hooded, unreadable.

“Oh yeah, he kept him real safe,” Buggy said dryly.

“As a kid, I mean.”

“What’s that matter?  However safe his childhood was, he’s dead now,” Buggy snapped.  “Our childhood was about as far from safe as possible, but at least we’re alive!  At least we were cared for!  That kid… the way he thought of himself…” Buggy buried his face in Shanks’ chest and sighed deeply.  “It wasn’t right.  One of us should’ve had him.”

Shanks’ hand came to rest on the back of Buggy’s neck.  “Being a dad at sixteen would’ve been hard.”

“I guess,” Buggy grumbled.  “But we would have managed.”

Shanks’ hand went stiff and still, fingers digging into Buggy’s neck a little.  Buggy realized what he’d said and started to sweat.  He’d been hoping to distract Shanks from his question, not bring them back around to that topic himself.

“Buggy.  Please look at me.”

Buggy craned his neck back to look Shanks in the eye, resting the point of his chin on his chest in a pointed, hopefully painful move.

Shanks grimaced.  “I’m sorry, Buggy, but I have to know.  When did you ever want to be my first mate?”  How did I miss that, his eyes seemed to ask.

It was about as hard to look at as Buggy had expected.  He averted his eyes.  “That last year with Roger?  Maybe earlier, I don’t know.”  Shanks started stroking his thumb across the spot where Buggy’s neck met his hairline.  With that bit of contact soothing him, he managed to get the truth out.  “I thought it was the only way I’d get to the last island.”

“…you wanted to go there together?  That long ago?”

Buggy grimaced.  That awed tone of voice told him Shanks had gotten the wrong idea.  “More like I didn't think I could get there alone.”

“Oh.”  After a moment’s pause, Shanks went back to stroking Buggy’s hair.  Buggy relaxed, cheek sinking into Shanks’ chest.  His heartbeat thudded away by Buggy’s ear in a slow, steady comfort.  I’m here, I’m alive, I’m here… “Then I’m glad.”

“Hm?”

“I’m glad we didn’t stay together back then,” Shanks said, sounding almost surprised by his words. Buggy stared blankly into space. Was he hearing Shanks right?  Shanks nodded, surer, and said, “Yeah, never thought I’d say that, but… I want you to believe in yourself more than I want you to be with me, Buggy.”

Buggy blinked a few times, fighting off a sharp stinging in his eyes.

Shanks tensed underneath him.  “Buggy?”

Buggy shook his head, lifted himself up the barest amount, and pressed their lips together.  Shanks made a soft, protesting noise, but Buggy would not be moved.  He wouldn’t express these feelings in words, it couldn’t be done.  This was the best he could do.

With a resigned little sigh, Shanks sank back into the bed, fingers threaded into Buggy’s hair, and let Buggy kiss him.  Their faces came together and drifted apart so slowly, so many times, that Buggy would be hard-pressed to pinpoint the moment when they finally stopped, but stop they did, as sleep claimed them again.

When Buggy woke for the second time, early morning sunlight gleamed through the windows over Shanks’ bed.  He was warm and well-rested, sated in almost every meaning of the word, and had no interest in getting up.  And who could blame him?  Shanks, still asleep, was lying on his back facing Buggy, his hand loosely curled around the back of Buggy’s neck, unconsciously keeping him close.  Not that Buggy had made any effort to get away in his sleep; his head was on Shanks’ shoulder, his hand resting lightly against Shanks’ carotid, where he must have kept track of that pulse all night.  I'm here, I'm alive, I'm here… Shanks’ face was so close that Buggy could see every small hair of the dark red mustache that had grown back in overnight, could feel the air flutter against his cheek every time he breathed. Which—well, the sour, alcoholic morning breath didn’t exactly fit the morning’s atmosphere, but Buggy had smelled worse.

Buggy drifted a little, enjoying the gentle rocking of a boat at sea, the human contact with someone who cared for him, eyes shuttered against the sun’s attempt to wake him fully.  He didn’t want to get up until he had to.  That motion of the boat meant they’d already left port.  It wouldn’t be long before they met up with Buggy’s ship and crew, before this time together came to an end.  Buggy intended to enjoy it while it lasted.  Maybe if he laid here long enough, concentrating on his warm satisfaction, he’d be able to preserve it in his memory.

Outside, something fell to the deck with a loud crunch of wood on wood, the moment was ruined, and Buggy came to his senses.

He grimaced.  What was he thinking?  Preserving the memory of this sweet, soft morning?  Ugh.  Buggy rolled away from Shanks, his sappy thoughts snapping him to true wakefulness.  What was he, some dockside lover pining away for a pirate he only saw once a decade?  As if!  If anyone was leaving someone behind here, it was Buggy!  And he wasn’t gonna be some sappy excuse for a pirate either, staring wistfully at the horizon, thinking of someone he couldn’t be with—no way!  Best to start as he meant to go on: by reminding himself of all the reasons he’d left in the first place, reasons why he would not miss Shanks at all.

He got up, not bothering to wake Shanks but not going quietly about his business either.  His clothes were scattered all over the room—which was, he noticed with a touch of amusement and (ugh) affection, a lot less messy than it had been when he stopped by yesterday morning—and they’d gotten all mixed in with Shanks’ clothes, too.  After a few false starts (they’d been right, Buggy could not fit in Shanks’ pants these days), Buggy made himself sartorially presentable.  One last check in the mirror hanging next to Shanks’ closet, and—what the fuck.

Buggy gaped.  He looked like something out of a horror story.  His chin was streaked with red, his cheeks a ghastly pale gray where the powder hadn’t rubbed away entirely, just the faintest hint of the original crossbones showing through.

Good god, this makeup wasn’t just cheap, it was really cheaply made.  The kind of stuff that would barely last an hour on an expressive face, let alone a day.  Buggy put a finger to his cheekbone and watched with dismay as powder came off in a little cloud of dust. Not even his good setting spray would save this stuff.  And the way the lip had smeared was—

A thought occurred to Buggy, and he spun around to stare at Shanks in horror.  Marks that he hadn’t noticed last night were in the light of day very obvious lip prints in a deep red tint.  On his neck, his chest, all the way down his chest in a very telling progression… oh no.  No, no, no.  This could not be borne.

Buggy dug around in his pockets and pulled out the makeup removing stick he’d gotten from Galdino.  He’d thought he might need to touch up the makeup a bit in the morning, but not this much.  Glancing between Shanks, the little wax stick, and his own increasingly panicked expression in the mirror, Buggy came up with a plan.

He finished making himself presentable— cleaning up the edges of his lip and removing almost all of the powder from his face, save the slashes of blue meant to draw attention to his eyes—and leapt onto the bed, jolting Shanks into consciousness.

“Shanks!” he hissed.

“Mm?”

“Shanks!” he hissed again.  Shanks didn’t stir.  “I’ll hit you,” he warned, and Shanks groaned piteously, hungover.

“Not into that so much,” he mumbled, “but if you insist…”

Buggy flushed, shoved that reaction down deep, and said, “Would you wake up already?!  I have to go, and you need to promise not to leave your rooms until I’m back.”

“Hm, ’s that so?”  Shanks cracked open one eye, finally, and frowned a little at the sight of Buggy, fully dressed.  “Now who’s the one in a rush?”

“Didn’t I just say I’ll be back?” Buggy chided.  He flicked a finger against Shanks’ chest.  “You need makeup remover, and I assume you don’t keep any in here.”

“No.”  Shanks blinked.  He looked down at himself.  “Why would I—oh.”  He looked under the blanket.  “Oh, wow.”

“You see the problem,” Buggy said dryly.

“I sure do,” Shanks said, voice wavering with disbelief and laughter.  “I mean, wow, Buggy.”

“Shut up!  It’s not my fault—those guys went and bought me new makeup yesterday!”

“That was sweet of them.”

“Yeah, that and three hundred berries will get you a cup of coffee.  Stupid me, I assumed a couple dozen guys doing a day’s work could afford something a little better than this.”  Buggy waggled the wax stick around; powder rained off it onto the bed.  “This stick’s run its course, so I’m off to beg another one…” Buggy gave Shanks’ lipstick-marked chest a considering look.  “Maybe two… off Galdino.”

“Bring him tea,” Shanks suggested.  “Roux says he’s more agreeable after a cup of Earl Grey.”  At Buggy’s look of surprise, Shanks smirked.  “That guy’s not the only one keeping tabs on people around here, you know.”

Huh.  Well, Buggy would have to rethink every conversation he’d had with or in the presence of Lucky Roux.  Later.  For now, a bribe of tea sounded like a better plan than the one he’d had (shouting until he got what he wanted).  He headed for the door, but was stymied by a hand tangling in his sash.  He glared over his shoulder at Shanks.

“What now?”

Shanks—Buggy blinked, not believing what he was seeing—pouted.  “Can’t I get a kiss goodbye?”

Buggy blinked twice, not believing what he was hearing.  “You must be joking.”

“You aren’t gonna kiss me again after you get this lipstick off me, not when that would undo all your hard work,” Shanks said, sounding very reasonable for a man with his bottom lip stuck out so far.  “But I need a kiss.  Just one more, please?”

If someone had told him even yesterday that Shanks would become such a baby the second he was shown the smallest bit of affection… “You know what?  Fine.”  A delighted expression bloomed on Shanks’ face as Buggy walked back to his side. Buggy smiled, laid a loud, wet kiss dead-center on his forehead, and pulled back to watch his face crumple.

The pouting was, if possible, worse this time.  “Buggy, come on.” Shanks tugged at his sash again.

“I don’t know who told you this behavior was attractive, but they did you a real disservice,” Buggy said, splitting at the waist when it became clear Shanks would rather pull the sash loose than let go.  “I’m going.  I—” Actually, if he was flying anyway… “—do your windows open?”

Shanks dropped the pouty look—ugh, Buggy knew he’d been faking, what an ass—and glanced up.  “Yeah, there’s a hinge somewhere…”

Buggy flew up and found a simple latch that let the windows swing out.  Not great for hiding that the windows were open, but sensible for evacuation purposes.  He flicked the latch and carefully swung open one window.  Just big enough for him to get out, excellent.

“Don’t go anywhere.”

Shanks gave him a fond smile.  “As you wish.”

Giving Shanks a wary look—he really couldn’t tell how many of these strange comments were jokes anymore—Buggy floated out the window and off toward the mess.  Roux happily put together a mug of tea for Galdino when asked.  He also pulled out a cup of drinking chocolate for Buggy, unprompted.

Now that Buggy knew to look for it, it was a little uncanny how well Roux had him figured out after all of two days’ acquaintance.

Well, however well Roux knew Buggy, Buggy didn’t know him at all; he couldn’t tell if the grin on Roux’s face was a smug, knowing one, or if that was just how he smiled.  As Roux was adding the finishing touches to the tea—apparently Galdino liked it with lavender syrup and steamed milk, which was about as fancy as Buggy might have expected—Buggy thought, what the hell, the first mate already knows, and asked for something to eat, chef’s choice, and a bowl of that tomato-egg stuff Shanks liked, both to be picked up when Buggy was done bothering Galdino.

Roux’s grin didn’t change when he agreed, which answered that question.

When Galdino didn’t answer the door, Buggy went ahead and broke in. (Though was it really breaking in when it was supposed to be your room too?) He was dead to the world, those wax plugs in his ears again.  Buggy started rapping his knuckles against the headboard, knowing the vibrations would get through even if normal sounds wouldn’t.  After a minute, Galdino groaned, rolled over, and wrapped himself in a cocoon of wax.

Buggy paused.  That was different.

“Did you get drunk last night or something?” he asked, speaking loudly to be heard through the cocoon.  He couldn’t think of another reason Galdino would be this resistant to getting up.

The wax melted away to reveal a miserable, red-eyed man huddled in a ball on the bed.  “Or something,” he agreed.  Spotting the tea in Buggy’s hands, Galdino made a pathetic little sound and reached for it weakly, fingers stretching out but his arms not actually moving.  “Those Red-Haired Pirates do not mess around when it comes to drinking games.”

“I could’ve told you that,” Buggy said, passing the tea along to Galdino, who drank slowly and gratefully.  “Shanks could polish off a bottle of wine in an afternoon with no problem by the time we were thirteen, it’s only natural he’d find a crew with similar tolerances.”

Galdino groaned. “Yes, well, that would have been helpful information to have yesterday.”  Draining the mug, he said, “What did you want, then?”

“Hey, not every interaction has to be transactional, you kn—” Buggy started to say.  Galdino gave him a narrow-eyed look, and he gave up mid-word.  “More of the makeup removing sticks, please.  The shit those guys got me was cheap as hell, it got everywhere.”

“Everywhere?”  Galdino’s eyebrow shot up.  “Like… everywhere everywhere?”

“…and how’s that any of your business?” Buggy asked flatly, glaring daggers at him.

“You can’t blame a man for being curious,” Galdino said with an unrepentant little smirk.

“The hell I can’t, you flashy, nosy know-it-all!”  Buggy grabbed the closest weapon—a pillow—and tried to smother Galdino with it.  Galdino shrieked, shielding himself from the onslaught with wax armor.  After a brief battle of wills, Buggy stopped trying to kill Galdino, and Galdino made him a full dozen makeup removing wax sticks, at which point Buggy attempted to smother him again, and half the sticks melted and bound Buggy’s hands up, and—anyway.  Buggy got out of there eventually, with a reasonable number of wax sticks hidden away on his person.

As he left that room there was a tugging at his waist that had Buggy looking back, remembering too late that his waist wasn’t here, and grumbling to himself.  Oh, was he taking too long for the poor Emperor of the Sea?  Tough luck.  If someone wanted to see Shanks that badly, they deserved to see him as he was, all lipstick-stained and sex-haired.  So long as Buggy wasn’t in the room when it happened, it wouldn’t embarrass him. (Probably.)

The tugging continued, and Buggy rolled his eyes and let it happen, even when it changed from a tugging to a gentle pressure, what felt like Shanks’ whole hand pressed against his waist. What was Shanks thinking, touching Buggy like this?  Was he just lying in bed, staring at Buggy’s disembodied legs?   What a weirdo.  Buggy smiled—then, remembering himself, frowned.  What a creep.

At least the mess was empty.  Buggy hadn’t checked a clock, but he suspected the night shift and first shift men had already come through, and those without an early schedule had yet to get up.  It was super convenient, actually: no one but Roux would see him doing something sort of thoughtful for Shanks. Not that he deserved it, the way he was acting right now, making Buggy start to sweat with the effort of not reacting to the hand on his waist, the thumb rubbing little circles into his skin.

Roux had, somehow, just finished preparing the food, though Buggy had taken twice as long as he’d meant to with Galdino.  He had everything packed up in little boxes, tied together with butcher’s twine, a paper cup that reeked of grassy green tea sitting on top of the stack.

“Let me know what you think of what I made for you today,” Roux said with a grin as Buggy went to leave.  “I got a little experimental.”

“I’m sure it’ll be great,” Buggy said with a grin.  “I almost think you could get me to eat tomatoes and like it.”

Roux laughed.  “I still haven’t managed to get Shanks to eat blueberries, but I guess anything’s possible!”

That had Buggy laughing to himself the rest of the way back to Shanks’ rooms. He’d forgotten Shanks’ thing about blueberries! As a child, Buggy had accused Shanks of copying him, pretending to hate a blue food in revenge for Buggy legitimately hating a red one, but the truth was he’d always been a little squeamish about their yellow-green insides.  Hadn’t liked the look of them, or so he’d said.

Oh, the pranks Buggy had pulled!  Hiding a single overripe blueberry in all kinds of terrible places: the bottom of a bowl of porridge, on the seat of a chair, gently placed between the pages of a novel Shanks had bought at the last port town… man, he’d been such a menace as a kid.  But Shanks had given as good as he got, so it never felt unfair to mess with him.  As they’d gotten older, though, he’d stopped reacting.  Either stopped getting mad, or stopped showing he was mad, Buggy had never been quite sure which.  God, it had pissed him off. Shanks was only five months older than Buggy, where did he get off suddenly being so grown-up?

And now Shanks was more easygoing than ever!  Buggy didn’t trust it; no one was that unruffled by him, especially not when he was being obnoxious on purpose.  Even now that he’d seen some of what Shanks had been hiding, Buggy knew there was more to it.  Behind those fond smiles and carefree laughter, there was a part of Shanks he didn’t trust Buggy with.

Which was fine!  It was the most sensible thing he’d ever seen Shanks do, honestly—Buggy was a no-good, thieving, backstabbing pirate, he shouldn’t be trusted—but that he wouldn’t admit to it pissed Buggy off.  To others, sure, let Shanks play the fool, whatever, but to Buggy?  The least Shanks could do was be honest about lying to him.

As he was approaching the open window to Shanks’ room, a sudden jolt of sensation nearly made him yelp.  Shanks had shifted his hand lower in a caress that sent a shiver up Buggy’s spine, and now he was rubbing his thumb across Buggy’s hipbone, just like yesterday in the park, which was… Buggy shivered again.  Not something to be thinking about in public, damn him! He flew in the window, scowling, dropped the food on Shanks’ nightstand, scowling, and floated back up to shut the window with a scowl on his face.

“Buggy, hey!” Shanks was sitting on the edge of his bed. He’d found pants at some point, but not bothered with a shirt. He grinned. “You got us breakfast?”

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” Buggy said, turning that scowl on him.

“Hm?” Shanks said, an innocent look on his face.  He was still stroking Buggy’s hip, like that four-inch curve of flesh and bone was the most fascinating thing he’d ever felt.

“I refuse to give you your stupid goodbye kiss, so you decide to rile me up while I can’t do anything to stop you, so when I get back I’ll be unable to help myself, huh?  Is that it?”

Shanks blinked.  He looked from Buggy’s lower half, standing between his legs, to Buggy’s upper half, floating above him.  “Couldn’t you have just… stepped back, or kicked me, if you didn’t like it?”

Buggy opened his mouth to respond and found he didn’t have one.  He could have done that.  He just… hadn’t wanted to.

Shanks began to smile.  “‘Unable to help yourself,’ you said?”

Buggy scowled.  “Oh, you’re lucky you’re hot.”  He shoved Shanks back and climbed on top of him, ignoring the laughter that burst out of Shanks as his head hit the mattress.

Later, very relaxed and searching for reasons to stay mad at Shanks, he was annoyed to learn that the boxes Roux had packed everything in were special heat-retaining boxes that could stay warm for upwards of half a day if left alone.  He couldn’t even revenge himself on Shanks with a cold breakfast!  He tried to eat resentfully, but the food was just too good to manage it: thin cuts of yesterday’s fancy ham, fried with syrup to a salty-sweet crisp and layered with fried eggs, cheese, and a sour spicy sauce on a hot dog bun.  Roux really was some kind of miracle-worker; the bun wasn’t even soggy.

At least with a hand-held breakfast he could scrub aggressively at lipstick stains with his free hand while he ate.  Shanks had to hunch over his nightstand to eat his breakfast (the tomato-egg stuff Buggy had requested, served over fried rice with what looked like spicy pickled cabbage and the fancy ham mixed in), and obviously he had no hand free to pitch in.  He was happy to criticize Buggy’s technique, though, saying, “Won’t pressing hard enough to bruise defeat the purpose of cleaning me up?” as he leaned into the scrubbing motion.

This was, unfortunately, a reasonable point.

Muttering, “Well excuse me, I didn’t realize you bruised so easily,” under his breath, Buggy switched his focus to less easily bruised parts of Shanks.  Just as he was getting started, there was a knock at Shanks’ door.  The two of them shared a look—Buggy recently reclothed and fed, Shanks sitting there half-naked with his half-full bowl of food—and Buggy sighed.  He split himself a couple ways, leaving one arm behind to scrub at the lipstick on Shanks‘ chest, floating his head and the rest of his torso to the other room.

“What?” he barked out, sounding so annoyed at being interrupted that (hopefully) no one would question why Buggy was in Shanks’ rooms at this hour.

“Oh, good,” said Benn Beckman.  He walked in, terrifying Buggy, who’d been fairly certain that door was locked.  “I didn’t have any idea where to check if you weren’t here,” he admitted, glancing past Buggy and making a face at the glimpse he caught of Shanks.  “Boss, I think you’re gonna need to just give in and bathe to get all of that off,” he said, before returning his attentions to Buggy.

But Buggy was too distracted by this piece of information to let Beckman get back to his point.  “There are bathing facilities on this ship?” he said, horrified.  I could have gotten actually clean?  Jabbing a thumb at Shanks, he said, “And he still looks like an unwashed rat half the time?!”

“Hey!” Shanks said, affronted.

Beckman coughed, poorly hiding a surprised laugh. “Well, I can’t speak to my captain’s personal hygiene decisions, but yes, we do have showers, and yes, we deliberately hid them from you.”  Buggy gaped, aghast.  “Our potable water reserves and salinity filters are decent, but we just don’t have the capacity to let hundreds of people use them over such a short span of time,” Beckman admitted.  “It would have caused interpersonal conflict none of us wanted to deal with to only give some people access to the showers, especially if there appeared to be any signs of favoritism.” He gave Shanks a sideways look. “And there would have been.” Shanks shrugged affably, not denying it.

Buggy scowled, but nodded.  This was a fair point.  He'd been avoiding thinking about similar issues that would be sure to come up when he attempted to squeeze all of the Impel Down prisoners onto the Big Top.  The space, the supplies, the food… he needed to find a proper home base, an island no one cared about in Paradise, where he could leave most of these guys while he figured out what the hell he was going to do with a crew that had more than quadrupled in size overnight.  Multiple ships? (How?) A bigger ship? (How?) A permanent land-based population? (Who?  Where?)

Buggy shook his head.  Stupid to borrow problems from the future when he had plenty on his plate in the present.  “What did you want with me, then?”

Beckman tilted his head towards the door.  “Captain Buggy, if you don’t mind?”

Oh.  Using his title, and wanting to talk without Shanks overhearing?  This was serious.  Buggy dropped the wax stick—Beckman was right, a shower with lye soap would work just as well on makeup this cheap—and reconnected his body, following Beckman into the hall.  Crossing his arms over his chest, he said, “I’m listening.”

Beckman ran a hand across his face.  In a ragged undertone, he said, “Our timeline is a lot tighter than we’re making it look.  There’s a trade wind we need to catch tonight, and to do that we need you and yours off this ship within an hour of docking.  And, well, you saw how slow-moving that bunch can be.  Can you get those guys in some kind of order?  God knows they aren’t going to listen to anyone but you.”

Buggy nearly laughed. Encouragement to boss around those guys some more?  Was that all?  With a grin, he gave Beckman a slap on the arm.  “Tell you what,” he said, pushing Beckman back towards Shanks’ room, “you take care of your idiot in here, and I’ll take care of all of mine out there.”

Beckman sighed, relief making him look ten years younger.  “Deal.”

(If a protesting sound came from within Shanks’ room, both of them chose to ignore it.)

[radroachrepellent]

Lighter

John Hancock (FO4), Chercock (Feltcock is better), Cherry Feltman (FO4 OC), emo sad Cherry, 960~ words

I feel like there is not enough crying in Fallout so I made this. Art was fun to make too and only took me like 1.3 hours!! Cherry is emo and wants to be known and remembered for her deathclaw skin grafts for ghouls but she has not had a lot of success.

Cherry sat on a broken bench in Goodneighbor, her fingers fumbling with an old flip lighter. She flipped it open, trying to light the cigarette dangling from her lips, but her hands wouldn’t stop shaking. The lighter clicked shut without catching, and she muttered under her breath, wiping at her eyes quickly when she felt the tears starting to well up. Her glasses were nowhere to be seen—probably tossed aside somewhere earlier when her frustration had peaked.

She flicked the lighter again, this time managing to get a small flame. She lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply, letting the smoke fill her lungs. But it did little to calm the storm in her mind. The day had been another long string of disappointments—more attempts to help that ended with people politely pushing her aside, more jokes that fell flat, more conversations where she was barely acknowledged.

She took another drag, blinking back tears. “Stop it, Cherry,” she muttered to herself. “You’re fine. Juuust fine.”

“Is that a pep talk, or are you just talking to your new best friend, Grey Tortoise?”

Cherry nearly jumped out of her skin at the voice. She looked up to see Hancock sauntering over, his usual grin in place. He was trying to make it look casual, like he just happened to be wandering by, but she knew better.

“Hancock,” she greeted, quickly taking another drag and holding it as if it could hide the trembling in her voice. “Just needed some air.”

Hancock raised an eyebrow, glancing at the bench and then back at her. “Well, this is the perfect place if you’re looking to catch some tetanus with that air.” He sat down beside her, the creak of the bench protesting under his weight. “So, what’s got you out here in the middle of the night, puffin’ away like you’re in some old noir film?”

Cherry shrugged, avoiding his gaze. “Nothin'. Just couldn’t sleep.”

Hancock didn’t buy it for a second, but he didn’t press her right away. He leaned back, stretching his arms along the back of the bench, his fingers almost brushing her shoulder. “Yeah, insomnia’s a bitch. But, ya know, there’s usually a reason when someone’s up late, cryin’ into a cigarette.” His tone was light, but there was an undercurrent of concern.

Cherry took another drag, exhaling slowly, trying to keep her voice steady. “It’s nothing, really. Just… uh...thinking about stuff.”

“Uh-huh.” Hancock nodded. “You've never been good at lying, sister.”

She shifted uncomfortably, the cigarette burning low between her fingers. “It’s stupid. Just feeling off, I guess.”

“Off?” Hancock repeated, his grin fading slightly. “Now that doesn’t sound like the Cherry I know. Come on, spill it. What’s eating at ya?”

Cherry shook her head, stubbornly wiping at her eyes again. “I told you, it’s stupid. You don’t need to worry about it.”

Hancock sighed, tilting his head to catch her gaze. “I’m gonna stop you right there, doll. If it’s got you out here alone, smoking like the world’s about to end, again, it’s not stupid. So, how about you give me the lowdown, and we stop this 'lil battle of who's more stubborn?”

She let out a soft, bitter laugh, but it quickly faded. “I just… I feel like I’m always messing up. Like I’m always in the way, like no one really wants me around.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, her mask finally cracking. “I’m tired of feeling like this, Hancock. Like I don’t matter. Like I ain't gonna be somebody.”

Hancock’s eyes softened, the humor in his expression replaced by something more genuine. “Well, there’s your first mistake—thinking you don’t matter. I mean, who else is gonna save my sorry ass? Make me a new set of pretty skin and execute the deathclaws near by?”

Cherry gave him a weak smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m serious, Hancock. I just… I try to help, and it never seems to work out. People don’t take me seriously. They just… brush me off.”

Hancock sighed, his hand finally resting on her shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. “Listen, Cherry, this world’s got a real knack for kicking people when they’re down, making ‘em feel small. But that doesn’t mean you are. You’ve got a good heart, and a mind sharp enough to cut through all this bullshit. People might not see it right away, but that doesn’t mean you don’t shine.”

She looked at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I just feel like I’m always fighting to be seen, to be heard. It sucks.”

Hancock’s usual quips were replaced by sincerity. “I see you, Cherry. And trust me, anyone with half a brain sees you too. You’ve got a fire in you that’s... hard to ignore... even if some folks are too damn blind to notice. And for what it’s worth, you’re not in the way. You’re in the fight, same as the rest of us still traveling with Bunny. And I’m damn glad to have you by my side.”

Cherry let out a shaky breath, the tears finally spilling over. “Thanks, Hancock. I just… I guess I needed to hear that.”

“Anytime, sweetheart,” Hancock replied, pulling her into a casual side hug. “And hey, you ever need a reminder, you come find me, alright? I’ll be more than happy to talk you down from any more late-night cigarette fests. Maybe even throw in a few more bad jokes or free chems, just for you.”

She smiled through her tears, resting her head on his shoulder. “I’d like that.”

“Good,” he said, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “Now, how about we go find those glasses of yours before you trip over something in the dark and I have to carry you back?”

Cherry laughed softly, wiping her eyes. “Deal.” And for the first time in what felt like too long, she felt a little less alone.

[billthedrake]

SUMMERS WITH GRANDDAD

Grandpa Steve's grip was tight as he pulled me into a bear hug and clapped my lat muscle. "Jesus Mac," he growled, "You haven't been juicing have you?"

I pulled back and looking to my grandfather's face. It had been a few months since I'd seen him, and he looked as gruffly handsome as I remember. Weathered face, silvery scruff on his jaw and a blue-gray eyes completed the picture. Steve Prescott had just retired from the police force a few years ago, and somehow he looked both older and younger than his 60 years.

"Nah, Granddad," I said, soaking in his clear enthusiasm for my bigger body. "Just been hitting the weight room hard."

The man's strong, callused mitts openly ran up and down the outside of my arms before giving them an affectionate pat. "Well, whatever you're doing, it's working," he winked. "Come on in," he ordered. And as I followed him, he reminded me, "You’re family, Mac, so I don't need to tell you to make yourself at home. You know where your room is."

"Yessir," I said. Last time my grandfather told me to drop the sir, but he didn't lecture me on it this time, he just looked back and gave me a big smirk.

"Great to have you here, kiddo."

I had a million ideas that had played out in my head about how this visit would go down. Some of them with my dick in hand, slowly storking. Or not so slowly stroking. Now that I was here, I felt a little nervous. "Glad to be here, Grandpa." I paused at the guest room door with my bags in my hand. Granddad lived in a lake house that was more live-in than a cabin but not like one of the rich people's retirement mansions that were springing up at the other end of the lake. The place was small and simple, but that suited Granddad fine. Suited me, too.

"You hungry?" he asked.

"Starving," I replied.

"Well, you get settled in, and I'll whip us up a lunch."

I took the time to unpack a little, since I'd be there for two months. It was an annual tradition. Ever since my parents' divorce when I was 7, I'd spend half of my summer at Granddad's. The first year was a kind of freak out on their part as they dealt with finances and the fallout of their breakup, but when they saw how much I enjoyed spending time with my father's dad, and how Grandpa Prescott was happy to host me, it became a regular thing. Even when I entered high school and became serious about football, I'd spend my time at Granddad's until football camp started up.

Of course, Granddad spoiled me rotten. He let me eat ice cream a couple times a day and watch as much TV as I wanted. He'd take me on ride-alongs on patrol on slow days, and that was a fucking treat.

He retired early, with a decent pension, and moved into that 2-bedroom lake house, one of those old ones from the 60s. Granddad winterized it and a couple of years ago I came for a few days around Christmas. Another tradition now.

I looked around the wood paneled room and had a lot of great memories. I'd graduated high school now, and who knows if I'd be coming here again, at least not like before.

Grandad wasn't a great cook, but he'd gotten better. I wasn't a picky eater, and at that moment that large lunch he'd made was perfect. It was after 2PM. Grandpa seemed hungry too.

"I got in a heavy workout this morning," he admitted. "Normally I don't eat a lot during the day."

"Wish I could say the same," I said. I had a normal teen jock's appetite, only amped up by lifting and regular cardio.

Granddad chuckled. "Don't worry, I stocked up knowing you were coming."

"Mom complains her grocery bills go up when I'm staying with her," I admitted. I hope that didn't sound out of place, like my mother didn't like me staying with her. It was just kind of a joke she had.

Granddad just shrugged. "Part of having a teenage boy around," he said.

We made small talk. I figured I had the whole summer to talk seriously with Grandpa. Maybe he was thinking the same thing.

"Well, it looks like the weather's crap," he said as he looked out the window. It had been a light drizzle on the drive up but now was pouring. "The rest of the week looks perfect, though." He turned back to me. "We can hit the golf course some time if you're up for it."

"Sure, that'd be great," I said. Normally I hated golf. Half of it was that I didn't excel at it in the way I did football and wrestling. The other half was I hated Dad's country club. The men there were all snobbish as fuck and kept hounding me about which college I was going to. When it turned out I wasn't going to college, Dad was silently dispproving. His golf buddies were less silent.

But with Granddad, it felt laid back and fun. Even if he had to handicap himself extra and pack his patience when he played with me.

We watch a little TV then turned it off and talked. Grandpa Steve had a million questions about the last months. He'd heard some from Dad but if he knew, he pretended not to.

"So...," he asked, cracking open his first beer now that it was getting closer to 6. "Now that you're graduated, you got big plans, kiddo?"

I felt adult now, talking to him, but also like a little kid. I shrugged. "I dunno, Granddad," I said. "I guess not." I fumbled with the soda can I held in my hands. "I've actually been wondering... thinking, you know, of becoming a police officer."

That caught the man by surprise. "Yeah, Mac? What brings that on?"

"That's what Dad said," I laughed. "You both make it sound like a phase."

He looked at me seriously. Not judgmental, but on the level. "Is it?"

He got me there. "I don't know," I replied. "I've been thinking about it a while. I guess I always looked up to you."

He smiled. "I'm flattered, kiddo. But the job's not all glamour."

"I know sir," I said softly, defensively.

He looked me over. "I guess you do."

"What does your father say?"

I sighed. "He's not happy about the idea. I mean, he doesn't come out and say anything, but you know Dad."

Grandpa patted my knee. "God knows I do," he said knowingly. "But fuck it, you're 18 now. And out of high school. You can make your own decisions." He paused, and I swore he was tracing little circles on my bare knee cap with his fingers. It felt nice and if our conversation had been different I would have thrown fully hard at the gesture. As it was I chubbed a little. "How bout this? While you're here, I'll go over the pros and cons, ins and outs of the job. Stuff I wish I'd known when I was your age but no one told me."

"That'd be great Granddad." I enthused. It was such a reversal of my relationship with Dad, where I felt I always had to prove I wasn't the dumb kid. With Grandpa Steve, I was happy to defer to his age and wisdom.

I took a deep breath and said what had been on my mind, the whole ride up. The whole last few months even. "There's one thing that's been bugging me about my plan," I admitted.

"Yeah, Mac? What's that?" His hand didn't leave my knee.

"I guess I've been thinking I'm not into girls."

Those fingers stopped. Slowly he pulled back his hand. "Not at all?" he asked with a look that was even more questioning. Somehow surprised.

"No sir," I replied.

His voice grew quiet. "Maybe what we did last time didn't help, did it?"

I blushed, actually red-faced as I shook my head. "I have no complaints about that, sir. For real."

He grinned at me gamely. "Well, I love you, Mac, you know that, right?"

"Thanks, Granddad," I said. "I felt kind of silly bringing it up."

"Hey!" he said. "I don't want you to feel silly about a thing like that. Or anything... You tell your parents?"

I nodded. "A couple of days ago. Mom was great. Dad was cooler with it than I expected."

Granddad nodded. "Your old man can be difficult, but he loves you, Mac."

I felt a little ashamed at all the teenage battles I'd had with my father. "I guess I act like a typical child of divorce."

"I don't know what that's like," Granddad sighed. "But typical is the last word I'd use for you, kiddo."

***

It felt great to clear the air. Granddad and I talked, man to man. He didn't pry but he asked if I had a boyfriend, if I was keeping myself safe. I hadn't done much more than getting my dick sucked in the mall men's room a couple of times. If you didn't count the blow jobs Granddad and I traded the last time I was there.

I felt relieved and proud I'd told Grandpa. He was the fourth person I'd told... my folks, my best friend Tyler, and now him. I knew it would get easier from here on out.

But somehow, I felt like I'd spoiled any chance I had for a repeat of sex with Granddad. The last time had seemed so easy. Some sex talk, a porn video, some JO heavy with eye contact, then I'd experienced my first blowjob and had given one in return, with Granddad gently coaching me in what to do.

We'd repeated it only once before I went back home and now any hopes I had that we'd pick up where we left off were dashed by the very grandparent vibe I was getting from the man. Maybe my being gay made it feel more real to Granddad, like it wasn't just some naughty fun between two buddies, but something more.

Anyway, when it was time for bed, Grandpa gave me a normal good night hug, more reassuring than sexual.

"If you're up for getting up early, we'll go out fishing," he said. Unlike golf, I'd always loved fishing, maybe because I associated it with my summers with my grandfather.

"Yeah, Granddad," I said. "Just wake me up. Anytime, for real." I was the opposite of a morning person, but I'd get up early for this.

He nodded and gave me one last reassuring look.

I tried to sleep. It was late actually and the more I lay there, the more my eyes were open, in the dark. It gets real dark at the lake.

I thought of jacking off. But I was too emotionally wound up. I hope I'd be able to keep my desires in check the next couple of months. I lay there, off and on erect in my briefs, as I thought about men and my life. I'd do better going after a guy my age. But it wasn't like the guys I knew would be open to that. Maybe I was wired for older men. The daddies in those porn videos. I actually made myself watch younger guys in videos to try to retrain my desires. It didn't work.

I had no idea what time it was. I was thirsty, or maybe the idea of getting some water was just something to do with my restlessness. I tried to be quiet as I slipped out of bed and tip toed down the hall.

I needn't have worried: a dim light was on in the kitchen and Granddad was sitting there at the table, bare-chested and some pajama pants. He had his reading glasses on and was doing a crossword puzzle. I'd never picture Grandpa Steve as a crossword kind of guy, but maybe retirement had you finding ways to spend your time.

He looked up and his voice immediately told me he'd been up for a while. It was clear, not groggy. "Couldn't sleep either?" he asked.

"No sir, guess not," I replied. My voice wasn't groggy either, it turns out.

"Some nights are just like that," he said, leaning back in the seat and pulling off his glasses. I had my grandfather's body practically memorized from swimming and casual days in the summer heat from years past. He was a year older now and his thick muscle had some of the telltale signs of his years. A little sag to the bulk and lots of fine, silvery fur. Over the summer, Grandpa would get a tan, but for now his torso was still creamy-pale in complexion. It made the pink nipples stand out more.

I felt conflicted with what I wanted and the need to behave normally around the man. "What do you do on nights like this?" I asked. I had a feeling my grandfather and I were talking about the same thing, at least a similar thing, but I wasn't sure.

He cocked a grin. "Man to man, kiddo? I jerk off."

That directness caught me by surprise and made me laugh. And it made me a little bold in return. "You didn't tonight, Granddad?"

He shook his head, a look of suppressed lust creeping in behind his smile.

I leaned against the kitchen counter. I was now aware I was wearing only my briefs and even more aware of Grandpa's eyes on my semi-naked form. "I didn't either," I admitted.

I watched as my grandfather reached down and adjusted his crotch in his shorts. A simple gesture, something a man's done a thousand times in his life. But it was incredibly hot to see.

"I told myself nothing was gonna happen with us this time," I heard the man say quietly. His blue-gray eyes were on me now, and his gruffly handsome face seemed more attractive in the light. "But when you showed up... a goddamn stud..." It was like he was afraid to finish his thoughts.

The flattery made me puff out my chest and turn toward him to display my body. "I'm not gonna tell anyone, Granddad. Promise." I wanted this SO bad, and the idea Granddad wanted me but was stopping himself felt like torture.

The man nodded and stood up. I was taller than him by four inches, but he carried himself like an ex-cop, taller than his height. He had more muscle than me, too, though my brawn was better toned.

I saw his hardon now, tenting up his shorts. For me. That sent my own dick to a quick erection. The sight of it made Granddad pause and watch. Watch his grandson throw hard. He watched then looked up at me, a little frightened. It was weird to see fear in the man's face. Growing up, I figured Grandpa wasn't scared of anything.

"I've been trying to think with my head, not my dick," he said.

My heart pounded. I actually took a step toward the man. "I've had to think with my head a lot lately, Grandpa," I said. "I'm ready to think with my dick for a while."

"God," he muttered and we stepped closer in unison. His rough hands were on my body first, but only by a second. I loved his body, his older, mature muscle. Maybe I was fucked up, but I loved every part of Grandad. His manliness, his age, and the contrast with my youth.

The latter part was driving Grandpa wild, I could tell as he openly caressed my bare football-jock body. "You're so fucking beautiful, Mac," he hissed.

"You too, Grandpa."

The time fooling around with Grandpa before felt naughty as hell, but we'd never done THIS before.

Nor had we kissed, but as my grandfather leaned in, eyes dreamy in expression, I was all in. It was my first fucking kiss with a man. And since I'd been faking it with the girls I'd gone out with, I considered it my first real kiss, period.

It made me light headed, feeling Granddad's lips against mine and his tongue snake out to touch mine. This was both rougher and more tender than a kiss with a girl. Grandpa Steve knew how to kiss.

He finally broke it off and patted my side. "Whaddya say we take this back to the bedroom?"

I nodded.

I'd seen Granddad's dick, back in early January. It was a delight to see it again as he pulled off his shorts. He wasn't big and wasn't small, just a thick-normal tool that jutted up from a full hairy crotch. I had a little pride peeling off my briefs and showing myself to him. The times before I'd felt tentative and self conscious. Now I didn't. I wasn't hung overly big either, but I had a little length on Grandpa.

"Let me suck that, kiddo," he growled as he climbed onto the bed and made his way toward me on his hands and knees. I pictured this man wrestling some perp into submission, yet here he was eager for my dick. As his mouth descended on me it felt good.

Too good.

"Oh fuck, Grandpa, pull off!" I warned after a few bobs.

I heard his chuckle. "Got a quick trigger there, huh, Mac?" He blew onto my throbbing hardon, whether to tame it or to stimulate it, I didn't know.

"Yeah," I hissed. "At least with you."

He looked up at me, that naughty look from our previous time together coming back. "If you blow now, you can probably cum again soon, right?"

I thought it over for a second. From my solo masturbation sessions, I definitely knew that was possible, but I hadn't tried that with another guy. "I'm pretty sure I can," I answered.

"Good," was all I heard before Grandpa turned his attention back to my cock and started sucking me, really sucking me. I held onto his head, feeling his thinning gray hair and feeding off his sexual energy. There was something exciting and liberating about this, even more than the men's room head I'd gotten the last couple of months, nervously, fearful I'd be caught.

Now Grandpa was openly blowing me. He wanted my cum and didn't care how quick I gave it to him.

"Oh fuck! Oh shit!" I cried. I probably shouldn't be so loud, but it was just us, a half mile from the next house. So I grunted even more loudly as I came. Usually quick orgasms don't feel as good as the ones you work up, but usually it's not an incest orgasm. I came hard, my athletic body jerking with each jet into my grandfather's throat.

The man moaned excitedly around my cock as I fed him. He let me jerk a little in his gullet then worked his mouth up and down more shallowly to milk out the rest of my load.

I felt proud just then, but not as proud as the look Grandpa had when he finally pulled off. I wondered how often he'd done this, how many men he'd blown.

He scooted up and kissed me. I could taste my cum on his lips and rather than turn me off that excited me. As did feeling that mature thick muscle against me, writhing, since Granddad was real horny now. I could feel the steel-hardness of his dick pressing into my smooth abs and the strength in his pawing at my arms and lats.

"Let me suck you, Grandpa," I hissed as our lips parted for air.

"Yeah, kiddo?" he asked, excitedly. The last time we'd fooled around, two days after New Years', I had reciprocated. But I could tell in his voice Grandpa was worried I wouldn't be up for it now.

I was up for. Way up for it. In those furtive times in the mall men's room, I had just stuck my cock through the hole and had gotten sucked off. Nervous once I came, I pulled up my jeans and made it out of there pronto. But this had been in my mind the last few months, more than that even. Sucking a man's cock.

And I couldn't envision a hotter cock that Grandpa Steve's. It was rigid and masculine and horny and as I scooted into the same position he'd been in, I got a closer look. There was just something so different about an older man's dick. I leaned in an licked, from the base to the tip.

"Fuck yes, Mac..." Granddad hissed. "Just a warning, it can take us old geysers longer to cum."

"Good," I said and craned my head to take in his hardon, between my lips and several inches into my mouth. I suckled at the head, but figured that was more to my pleasure than Granddad's, so I started bobbing up and down on him. I held onto his strong thighs as it took me a half minute to get the rhythm. I didn't have experience. Hell, I didn't even have natural technique. But I'd watched a lot of gay porn and I copied what I'd seen.

I felt my grandfather's fingers massage my hair, my scalp, and the nape of my neck while I blew him. Even if his fingertips were callused, there was something soft and gentle about his touch.

I went down further now, closer to the base of his dick. I surprised myself by feeling no gag reflex. I mean, Grandpa wasn't hung real big or anything but he sure felt like a mouthful at that moment and very thick at the entrance to my throat.

"Holy Christ, Mac...." the man hissed. "You're really fucking good at this... Amazing, kiddo."

His encouraging words fueled my lust. I went at him a little deeper and a little faster. I imagined some dude sucking Granddad off back in the day to get out of a speeding ticket or something. It was a porny fantasy, for sure, but the interplay between that and the real-life incest I was committing had me rock hard again.

My hands had traveled up his legs to his hips, and now I was taking the chance to cup his butt cheeks. Lightly furred but not as hairy as his torso or legs and arms, Granddad had an amazing ass. Full, meaty with more than a little give. I was a little fucked up in the head maybe, but that mature ass turned me on like nothing else.

All of a sudden Grandpa's grip on my head grew more insistent, tauter.

"Jesus FUCK!" he bellowed. Up till then, Grandpa Steve had been gentle and affectionate. But as he nutted, he was all man, thriving on that primal instinct. I coughed a little as my face was pulled all the way against his pubes, before Granddad realized what he'd done and relaxed his hold.

His muscular body was still shaking as I swallowed his seed and sucked the dribbles out of his dick. Unlike me after a cum, Granddad almost immediately grew soft, but I liked that sensation too of feeling his relaxing meat feeling my mouth. I gave it a final kiss when I pulled off.

There was a look of pure love and satisfaction on the man's face when I looked up. "Sorry I went rough on you, Mac," he said, his fingers now grazing my neck in a touch that directly fed my renewed hardon. "But that was fricking incredible."

I leaned up on my knees now, scooting up to embrace my grandfather. "I'm glad,"" I said.

We kissed, softly. I mean, I was horned up like hell, but I followed Grandpa Steve's lead. The contrast between the smooth kiss and my sexual intensity felt exquisite, actually.

But Granddad seemed to read my mind. Reaching down to cup my erection, he pulled back and cocked an eyebrow. "You really are ready to go again, aren't ya, kiddo?"

"Yes, sir," I hissed.

He looked down and gave it a long gentle stroke. "You've grown into a big boy all right," he said. Then looking up at me with a playful grin he added, "If you can wait a little, I'll take care of you again. First, I want a little make out time with my favorite grandson."

"Can't think of anything better, Granddad," I said, lying down on my grandfather's queen sized bed and feeling his warm, mature body lying next to mine, pulling me close to him.

I knew this was going to be an unforgettable summer.

(TO BE CONT.)

[starcanwrecked-confessions]

Ok, you don't have to post this if you feel like it's too much, but I just needed to get this rant out about Robert Manion (not censoring so people who have it filtered can avoid it).

When I joined the fandom in 2019 ne was basically the fandom's darling, every fifth post in the tag was about him or his characters and it was hard to find a tgwdlm song ranking that didn't have SSN in the top 3. I wasn't a huge fan of him, mostly because I'm ace and didn't find him attractive, but I'm not going to lie and pretend like I always hated him. I thought he seemed like a nice enough guy, as did most other people in the fandom. I didn't have twitter at the time, so I didn't see any of the stuff he did there, but I did hear some of it on here which made me not like him as much, but for the most part I ignored it.

It's his actions around the sexual harassment incident that still makes my blood boil when I think about it. To me his apology post came off less as a sincere apology from someone who recognised how shitty he was and more like he was trying to make himself seem like such a good person for acknowledging that he was wrong. It came at such a shitty time for fans too, since everyone who clicked on his insta stories would have been expecting something about NMT 2 but instead got hit with something so heavy and potentially triggering. It was probably the worst day I've ever had in the fandom, as the fallout was intense and the few days before SK officially addressed the issue were actually stressful.

I know we don't know everything that happened behind the scenes, nor are we entitled to, but it definitely seems like Rob did not take being kicked out of Starkid permanently after NMT2 well. He had a whole year between his post and when he went on Tik Tok live to talk about his side of the story, but chose to do it only during the duration of the Starkid Returns kickstarter, when it became clear he wasn't going to be invited back. I know he made some pretty serious claims against SK, and I wouldn't normally dismiss something like that, but the fact that he also tried to play off his harassment as a joke that others made into a bigger deal than it was makes me so mad. Also, some of the stuff he said, like claiming that Dylan gets too many solos and calling them cringey for being in their 30s and still singing some of their older songs, just came off as pure pettiness and spite, and like he wanted to discourage the few fans he still had from giving to the campaign, especially since he stopped when it ended.

Honestly there isn't really a big point to this, I just felt like I needed to get my frustration off my chest. I was watching tgwdlm with friends yesterday and it was so hard for me to get through SSN remembering all of this. I just hope that he stays gone and doesn't try to pull anymore shit during the next kickstarter. Also, I hope all the fans who were seriously hurt by what happened are doing better now.

~~~

[thefallenangelsgang]

FALLOUT 4 HEADCANON MASTERPOST

two and a half years ago (👀) I posted a list of headcanons right around when I started playing around with the ideas in my fallout WIP

I've decided they ( 1 + 2 ) need to be updated and added to especially after Death Shroud gave me so many great ideas/things I want to steal. Added break to save you dash my loves <3

I will keep adding to this lmao

SECTIONS:

Post #1 Revisions

Post #2 Revisions

Death Shroud Stuff I'm Kidnapping

Misc Stuff From Asks, Mods, and My Brain (AKA THE LONGEST SECTION)

From #1 (Link Here)

We are keeping chair bound Murphy

I may or may not be recanting my gangly tall 'n thin Hancock HC. I oscillate wildly between wanting him to be Eldritch God™ tall and "gimme uppies! :3" short. He may end up being both. His height will be whatever is funniest for the bit.

oh yeah Sarah Lyons got merc-ed B)

We are still kicking with Kellogg in Nicky's skull but with the added angsty-ness brought in by Death Shroud. Oh the plot! Oh how it hurts so good! Kellogg wanting to find someway to punish the SoleSu(s) and Nick for picking through his memories? Ugh! Give me it all.

We are cutting Billy and the Fridge. I don't want to deal with the nightmare plot holes it will bring up and Quincy will already have enough BS. Plus the more I think about it the less I like the whole quest and its placement. Fuck! Maybe he'll be referenced in Publick Occurrences? I don't care! We're loosey goosey bay-be!

- 10. can stay. I have no issues with them and nothing funny to add

From #2 (Link Here)

Now I can bring up my beloved Vault-Tec Rep. Him in the Death Shroud? Perfect. Beautiful. Stunning. I no longer have to call him Paul Eiding as a very direct nod to his VO. Our Beloved David Dwecker is married to Sheffield and they have a house in Sanctuary filled with Nuka-Cola memorabilia (for Sheffield) and collectable plates (the kind grandmothers display for our lovely Rep). They have a little sitting area set up in the carport where they hangout, smoke, and dance together to Diamond City Radio. I need this for my mental health okay?

Shaun being Autistic is something I really want to explore. I truly forget who I first saw say this but it is not an original idea by any means. I also think the poor thing would have some level of trauma from everything so exploring that is gonna be fun! (no it will not oh my god I'm going to dredge up all my childhood issues.)

OHHHH CHRISTMAS. YULETIDE. FEAST OF ST. NICHOLAS. I find the "Seth Patrick" bit SO funny in Death Shroud so that is staying but also I feel like the feast of St. Nicholas got jokingly flipped into a celebration of Nick Valentine (Same with Valentine's Day) and people are beginning to forget the correct version. Nick tolerates it with an eye roll and a wry joke about people needing to read their history books but secretly finds the whole thing funny. Ellie has a santa suit for Nick to don during "his" holiday. Also the school children in Diamond City send Nick "Valentines" on valentines day and he displays them on his corkboard.

Music. My god the Johnny Guitar bit had me by the throat during Death Shroud. Expand those music libraries! Before you know it I'm gonna give Travis a rolling ladder attached to bookcases upon bookcases of records and holotapes. I want to hear people complain about how many Andrews Sisters records survived and God why won't Travis stop playing them!

The Flavor of Goodneighbor needs to be so complex. Like a good pasta sauce. I better be so overcome by the layers and smells and textures. Better Goodneighbor and Better Third Rail are really good starts but I'm expanding the shit out of both of them I think. I want to feel like Goodneighbor truly is dangerous to be in. Being able to cross most of the town in one sprint burst isn't cutting it Bethany Esda! Make it truly baffling how Hancock knows so much about the happenings in his town.

- 8. are about the BoS and I stand by them. You will get to meet my Lone Wanderer and learn about the hierarchies a little better. I redesigned the Orders and added one I think? I have to re-sort those notes lmao. Also the piloting thing is like MAJORLY important to me because the frequency of vertibird crashes in game pissed me off to no end.

From Death Shroud (@chadfallout76podcast THANK YOU)

Danse is just... Like That now. I can't wait to explore his character before and after Blind Betrayal especially because he will not be leaving the Brotherhood and he will still be Like That. [spoiler warning ;) for my story lol] I can't wait for the beautiful moments that will be born of it.

I actually kind of love some of the plot points in Death Shroud like the Mob Family wars? Staying 100%. Same with Ma and Boss Lombardo and some of the other families.

As is Charlie but I refuse to let him die. I got very attached to Charlie and his death was so perfect but this time he gets to stay alive dammit.

Magnolia sending Magnolia flowers with her letters? Genius

Vault-Tec Rep (David my beloved) being the saddest, wettest cat of a man imaginable when he's in Goodneighbor? Also fucking genius.

"Fish-lips" Malone being part of the same family as Skinny has me so excited for more mob family bullshit.

Ruffino's and the Black Rose is being transplanted somewhere and maybe might be near the Combat Zone. New den of sin anyone?

Obviously I'm not going to attempt to pull apart the fabric of reality in-canon but my god Death Shroud was fun <3

Some new Misc HCs

Diamond City is bigger and more populated, kind of in the same vein as the Goodneighbor HC. I haven't found a mod layout I like so I might end up redesigning it (Please kill me)

This is an old one from an ask! Hancock will help work the bar at the Third Rail occasionally. He's a notorious show off and his cocktails are mainly just straight liquor but he entertains the hell out of people when he dives over the bar to take orders and bother Whitechapel Charlie. There are major losses on nights he bartends due to the fact he forgets (sometimes purposefully) to take payment. Regulars know to put the cash in the tip jar so Whitechapel can collect it at the end of the night.

Another thing I'm keeping from an ancient ask, Danse wants kids. Badly. And the crushing blow of being sterile really fucks with him for a while. but he eventually comes to terms with it. He's also still touchy (as in he's always touching his partner) per that ask because I think that's cute.

I'm just going through old asks now lmao. Nick and Ellie dance together like the true father-daughter pair they are

I forgot who drew this but I once saw someone pair Sturges and Ellie together and that is the cutest damn thing so it stays.

MacReady got the Lone Wanderer's Grognak magazine as a gift for letting them into Little Lamplight and it's one of his prized possessions.

Macready and the Lone Wanderer's reunion is very cute my dudes.

More general slice of life stuff like fishing on the mainland and boats, more things to do in general, transportation, cool amputees, and other shit listed in this post I reblogged YEARS ago

OH Travis and Scarlett get married <3

Danny Sullivan skips town after taking the fun way down from the mayor's office and travels with some cross country caravans before coming back to work in Diamond City. YES HE LIVES!

Holy fuck i forgot I had this mod but the Institute projects the sky up on their ugly concrete dome because this mod fucks hard

Just the general vibe of raiders employing children and stringing more dead mutilated bodies about. There are mods for that and let me tell you they make the raider camps horrifying. No I will not be linking them. But they are available on Nexus should you want them.

Okay I'm changing the layout of everything apparently: Including but not limited to the Railroad HQ, The Prydwen, Vault 111, etc. Fuck game design I guess lmao. I like XFreakish's Railroad Redone and NordKitten's A Sensible Prydwen Overhaul for in game and basically plan to build off of them.

The asks: Hancock bartending, Danse wanting kids and being into physical affection, Nick and Ellie Dancing + MacReady and the LW's Grognak (same ask)