#what’s worse is I considered them a work friend but wtf

[somemoreofwhat]

I hate when someone is a cunt but fucking thinks they’re justified. The worst. Like damn “thanks for harassing my boss and trying to throw me under the bus cuz you’re a dumb bitch ass who doesn’t know what my job is”. You could clearly see how annoyed my boss was getting with each email but she backed me up hella. It was so bad that my boss told my supervisor and he came over shocked that someone thinks behaving that way is ok in our job.

[therealslimshakespeare]

Am I Still Your Favorite Escape?

Gale & Maureen -requested? ✔️

As a new year and a new unrelenting malaise settles over the prisoners in camp, Maureen Kendeigh finds the journey from viewing Gale Cleven as her prize collector’s item to the man others suspect she loves most harrowing indeed.

Note: y’all wanted handjobs and I gave ya one, with a twist, and yall wanted more of what Maureen is thinking during this time and so you got it. Along with 6k of other dynamics and plot and feelings, buckle up 👐🏻

Warnings: 18+ smut, female fingering, some cum play, semi public sex acts (not trying to be exhibitionists, but the place is packed ok?) erectile disfunction, not the most supportive attitudes towards partners feeling out of sorts, BUT ALSO!! Please note the typical universe warnings apply with an addition in this chapter being a discussion about terminating a pregnancy, those discussing it disagree strongly and due to religious beliefs one refers to it as “murder”. No action is taken in this chapter. There are hints of Buck x Bucky in this one, although can anyone actually define for me wtf was going on!? Because by Buck x Bucky I just mean they’d die for each other and that’s stronger your average marriage and Bucky maybe should look away when his friend gets some midnight loving, lol.

Maureen had been enthused at the outset. Not that she cared that much for subversion, but she enjoyed the feeling of mischief that their new task carried with it. Camp had proven dull, worse in many ways than she had even expected. She had expected there to be work if not recreation, and while there was some, then the winter months came all too soon and nothing about their shelters or their clothing were suitable for sustaining outdoor productivity.

Which meant she -and the others, she supposed it was only right to admit the others were no better- she had been cooped up in here during a never ending snowstorm outside, watching Gale sand his little board in a room muggy with pungent sweat and stale breath. They were packed on top of each other in here and any attempt to get fresh air earned one a case of frostbite.

That bit of wood was going to become a radio, Gale had told her, and she believed him. With all her heart Maureen believed him. But there came a day when watching Gale fiddle with a safety pin stuck atop a board became unarguably boring. So much so she had begun to insist she be allowed to help Brady and Crank haul in the hot water and assist in what went for “cooking” in this place. Johnny didn’t let her near his precious concoctions after having ousted Benny from the same, but he did let her hand him bowls and generally act useful at mealtimes.

She kept him entertained with stories of picnics in exotic places, safari’s where they cooked out of the back of her father’s jeep. Brady had them eaten all his terse quips about her not knowing how to manage in straitened circumstances and instead asked her endlessly about rhinoceros habitats. It served to entertain her for awhile, too.

Bucky had recovered after a few weeks abed, his movements remained stilted and she could still carry more water than his ribs allowed -a point she made to him daily as he swatted at her from his bunk- but as he recovered he became preoccupied.

Ida had also recovered, though not as thoroughly, having gone well over a week without so much as drinking water in her insensible state. She was weak, feverish and upon at last being plied with nourishment, she puked it right up. It was little cause for concern considering her illness, but as she grew stronger and her stomach remained contrary, some unease began to grow. By Christmas her brother Johnny had taken over the cooking in an endeavor to make something palatable but the woman was hardly the sort to be picky over her victuals. Benny and Brady’s watery soups were alike and they both came up within fifteen minutes of being eaten.

So then, their little room smelled of sweat, breath and vomit. Her brother and Hambone made mention of Crosby, it provided levity for a few days and Maureen was fast to join in. Until Ida had her at a private moment, the men in the hall or else out with latrine duty, and then she asked Maureen if she’d had her menses.

Offended at the implication that Gale Cleven would allow her any more than a mouth or handful of himself, Maureen hotly insisted she had. Three of them in fact, since arriving. She had the bloody rags to prove it.

It wasn’t until a few weeks later, when there began to be a very segregated group of men hovering and debating amongst themselves that Maureen began to second guess such an inquiry as more than moralistic judgment. Their Red Cross packages arrived with canned goods and bland crackers. Bucky began to bargain for the latter with a gambler's gusto -before inevitably handing his loot to Ida. Ida herself began gambling fiercely, for smokes.

Ida had never smoked in her life.

And now the place smelled even stronger of one more cigarette, sweat, breath and vomit.

The smokes seemed to help her, or at least, Maureen noticed her puking less by New Years. The early part of the new year brought new misfortunes, the confiscation of Cleven’s prized radio and a rash of miscarriages amongst the women. A rash was perhaps an exaggeration -only three or four, by Maureen’s count, and between her’s and Ida’s and Cleven’s discreet insistence, such incidents were passed off to the wary guards as heavy menses.

Maureen realized then that those were pregnancies from their guards, a possibility that she had not considered as she had not had reason to worry about it. That is, until Ida Brady caught her again at a moment alone, and asked her in the closest thing to feminine fluster that Maureen had ever seen her in, if she’d ever had reason “in your expeditions, as it were…” to possibly “eliminate a -poor decision?”

Being quite puzzled by this inquiry, and only picking up on the vague aspects -something she admitted to Ida straight away- Maureen admitted she drank most of her poor decisions away, a strategy that hadn’t failed her yet and she wished was at her disposal in this frozen mud pit.

“I’m speaking of- romantic decisions. Poor ones.” Ida had tried again, yearning for understanding in her voice.

Maureen remained nonplussed.

“A child, Maureen a-a pregnancy have you ever?” Ida hissed out at last.

“Gosh no.” Maureen sputtered, “I’m not a full idiot. Why would you ask? I strike you as enough of a harlot?”

“I’m merely looking for -remedies.” Ida pinched at her nose, a motion Maureen was familiar with watching in Gale when he was overwhelmed.

“Who needs it?” Maureen scoffed, quite sure that the odds didn’t stand many more girls suffering from the same, the poor food and rough conditions having ensured it for them.

Ida took her hand away but closed her eyes, mouth folding to a straight line. “I do.”

“Oh fuck.” Maureen plopped down beside her on the bunk in disbelief, they both stared at the opposite wall and its identical beds with rumpled bedding and starlets pasted on the walls. “Fuck.”

“They’re getting very stupid about it.” Ida said at last.

“What do you mean? Who?”

“The boys.”

“You’ve told the boys?” Maureen cried out, infuriated.

“They guessed, already, for God’s sake must even this be about you, too, Kendeigh?”

“What’s that supposed to mean!”

“It means while you’re bored and very vocal of it, some of us might die-“

“-we could all die in this shithole-“

“-or! Or worse,” Ida cut in fiercely, “have someone die for us by being idiots. Bucky is full of schemes of -of running off into the sunset. I suppose after he levitates us over the barbed wire with his magic carpet. I don’t know, but I- Maureen I know that if I go on much longer, it won’t just be me in danger. They’re either going to risk something terrible or get punished for not reporting me.”

“So what?” Maureen asked dully, having been excluded from an obvious inner circle regarding the issue and having now been accused of being trivial in her own sufferings, it smarted and she could not deny the flicker of unfairness she felt over it. “Want me to shove a coat hanger up you? The others too chicken?”

Ida visibly recoiled beside her, putting more space between them in the bunk. “I’m not going to- to kill it.”

“What kinda remedy doesn’t?” Maureen sassed, if they were to talk no longer in flippant pleasantries, she could do that.

“I’m just asking for help.” Ida’s jaw wobbled, her voice a wreck of desperation and Maureen could see with a small and ugly bit of satisfaction that the woman was truly close to losing her grip. It was satisfyingly human. As was her reaction to a remedy after asking for it.

“You come to me because you think I’m loose enough to know, and then you have the nerve to be appalled when I do.” Maureen pointed out, “That what all the smokes are for?”

“Yes.” Ida put her head back in her hands.

“Just won’t budge; huh?”

“No.” her voice sounded like she might be crying but there was no telling with those hands in the way.

“It would be stubborn.” Maureen muttured, thinking of the goddamn Brady family as she knew them. “Why won’t you get rid of it? You want to get rid of it-“

“-I don’t understand why it’s hanging on!” Ida’s wail came out garbled between her fingers.

“So let’s -unhang it.”

“I can’t. Kendeigh -I can’t.”

“I know it’s risky, but I know you’re not scared of dying.” Maureen muttered, attempting to understand.

“Candy I cant, I can’t murder it.” her voice had dipped into a sacrosanct whisper.

Maureen huffed in confusion, a substantial amount of pragmatism warring with what tiny bit of sympathy the threat left her, “It’s a German’s, at this size no more than a blo-“

“It’s a life!” Ida snarled back at her so viciously Maureen contemplated the likelihood of her having gone fully mad, “And it’s mine.” she rebutted, pointing to her chest fiercely.

“So you’ll let Bucky and Gale die for you, die trying to get you out of here but you won’t try to fix it yourself.” It was how Maureen saw it, and if she were to be accused of suggesting murder, she might as well have her side put out there, too.

“That’s how you see it?” Ida muttured, looking utterly defeated.

“If Gale dies over this, I’ll wring your neck myself. Keep smoking.” she advised with a shrug, “Maybe catch an elbow to the gut if you can.”

Ida pulled her hand away again to look at her, she’d definitely been crying then, red nosed and watery eyed, but she looked less aghast now than she had at the mention of the coat hanger. Maureen didn’t think she wanted condolences about it, or a pat on the back. Come to think of it, Ida was getting plenty of that sort of doting from the boys. No, Maureen didn’t feel like she needed that from her, and something sour and twisted in her heart made her loath to give it.

It worsened as the days went by, as Maureen observed their once innocuous routines with new eyes, noticing the boys' furtive plans, their hovering concern, their brought in provisions -offerings fit for a queen. It was understandable to show such care for her in her state, and ostensibly no one deserved it more than Ida Brady. But it left Maureen feeling adrift, like an afterthought, someone whose greatest challenge was their boredom. And ever looming were those great risks the boys bantered about like it were all a low stakes game of cards.

She plays thirty to forty sets of cards with Hambone, decimates Benny at chess, cleans the pans, even mops the goddamn floor. All to keep busy, perhaps even to spite Ida whose one assigned task is the floors. She cannot be accused of boredom or idleness if she has done all her own tasks and others’ besides.

In her spare time she would like to go with Bucky, to be of use in collecting things for Gale’s new little project, his precious crystal radio, but where women go -there go guards and attention and soon, the sheer mischief of the naughtiness of Gale’s construction wanes as she is left laying in her bunk watching him wiggle a clothespin around for the fifth day in a row. She had been so understanding for the first four. Even though she had contemplated a tiff with him over not informing her of Ida’s state as soon as he knew, she had been merciful and instead settled for holding the copper wire for him and brushing his cheek when he didn’t actively shy away in concentration.

He mumbles about needing to give it his full attention, about her needing to keep a lookout, about the danger of getting caught. She asks if it’s worth it then, anything that might get him killed is her enemy, even if it’s a little clothespin on a board. He looks at her like she’s from mars, unable to fathom why she wouldn’t understand its necessity. And he doesn’t come to bed until an ungodly hour of the night and immediately, upon settling in their bunk he is asleep, much to her chagrin.

She would have liked a kiss, a hand between her legs even more. She would have settled for those whispering little chats they’ve indulged in ever since Bucky laid atop Ida and all rules were broken -they’ve shared a bunk and as the winter gets worse, no one bats an eye. In fact, everyone’s stacked two for one, male and female alike. Brady and Hambone snicker and whisper in their bunk every bit as much as she and Gale do, Maureen is sure of it.

Instead Gale falls asleep. And he does it again and again, night after night. Bucky rummages on his own for supplies. Brady frets over Ida. Only so many people can play makeshift bat gammon in the hall. It does not pass the time. And Maureen grows ever more restless.

She feels expectantly happy when Gale’s work is finally complete, his finished product constructed and the moment of truth comes. They crowd around and wait with baited breath as his finger tunes it. And Maureen knows she is fully awful for her relieved feelings when it does not work. He can’t be killed for it if he scraps it. And he will come to bed at a reasonable hour now it is useless. The shake of his hand makes everyone else feel helpless in the face of his ever steady composure cracking, but while Maureen has no acceptable remedy for Ida’s plight, she does for Gale’s, and she waits for darkness with the relieved excitement of a child on Christmas Eve.

Gale does indeed come to bed, the radio not fully scrapped but heartily abandoned and hidden with its various parts in sundry places. And when he slips beside her, his nose is cold and he touches her like he has missed her. He pulls the covers to their chins, tucking them in with a small giggle, she is suffocated by it and yet he persists and this has gone on all winter until now it is their inside joke and he does it just to make her laugh, and when she laughs so does he, a honest little giggle of a thing, and she misses him worse than ever even as he pressed along the length of her.

It isn’t safe yet, not everyone is asleep but she bides her time with kissing him and he returns her caresses ardently, a thorough press of his lips and his tongue unreservedly sliding into place alongside her own, his hands warming up as they clasp her neck, turning her head upon their pillow. She wonders if they are loud even at this, but she was never the one to care, it’s Gale who objects and who hushes them, who makes them wait, who insists on being courteous even in hell, who only allows himself to lap at her when the place is abandoned or else full of the atmospheric noises of masculine snores.

Maureen does not mind waiting for him, or rather -she does, but he is implacable about it and when she attempts to persuade him otherwise she is oftentimes swatted and put in her place like a wayward child. Such correction holds a charm of its own when it is Gale Cleven administering it, but tonight she feels close to madness if she does not get her way so she allows him to kiss her as the quiet and steady breaths around them herald the unconsciousness of their brethren. She grows bolder, throws her leg over his hip and tugs at his buttons, hands rucking up his shirt and parting the heavy flaps of his coat. He is as burdened with layers as a Victorian maiden and Maureen enjoys the hunt for warm skin, the way he looks as ravished and expectant as any girl while she gropes at him, when she finally reaches him he always shudders, a full bodied thing that jerks even his neck.

Tonight she parts his layers feverishly and he mutters her name, again and again and his hands are clumsy at her shoulders and no progress is made on discarding her own clothing but she pays it no mind, she is direly hungry for him. Any touch of him, to make him shake and melt and pay tribute to her.

“Maureen.”

She finds the button of his trousers right at his heaving naval and she exults at the feel of the fine trail of hair beneath her fingertips.

“Maureen.” his voice grows urgent and she doesn’t heed it, he counts on her never heeding it.

She wiggles her hand beneath the waistband of his boxers and skims the hairy plane of his pelvis before laying her hand on what she needs and -he is as limp as a dead mouse. She holds the chubby thing for a good long moment, very much like it were some useless rodent she had caught and must now dispose of, and she is filled with confusion.

“Maureen-“ he mutters again against her unmoving lips and she realizes with misery she mistook his pleading for a different sort.

It is not that she’s never felt him soft, on the contrary, there was a long time in the early days -when she wanted him and he wanted a promotion- that her hand would find its way between his legs, in a jeep or a bar, beneath the table while he helped her with her calculus. Once she felt him she became mildly obsessed, he was always tucked to the right and he was so substantially long and full beneath her palming, even in repose, that her determination to have him was only further cemented by it. Again and again her hand made it into his lap and again and again he would rebuff her, sometimes with startled propriety, occasionally with long suffering disbelief, more and more with almost parental disapproval.

Each reaction had been as satisfying to Maureen as if he were swelling into her palm. And soon enough, he was doing that, too. His hand growing a beat too slow before he grabbed her wrist, his mouth still twisted in dry reproof but his eyes began to burn. He was unbothered no longer and it was not much longer after that he was not even resistant.

Ever since, she could count on him to perk, to respond, to validate her own want of him with his own for her.

The fact it was in many ways a tortured surrender on his part only drove her madder, made her desire burn brighter, made the succumbing of the good, the right, the proud man all the more intoxicating. And again, as if they’d never shared all that, he was now as warm and floppy as a dead dormouse.

“Maureen.” he begged, half expecting tears again like her first night in the stalag, wincing as her hand squeezed him meanly, jerked at him a few impotent times in an effort to fluff him.

Her hand withdraws and he holds his breath, ready for a scene or a rebuke. His gut twists miserably, at fault twice over and yet -not really. But that never mattered with Maureen. He says her name again but she is still and deflated, and after a moment, she merley rolls over, giving him her back.

That is how he knows she is hurt, were she angry she would not have shrunk from being crueler than a few angry tugs. The silence is new and it makes Gale’s stomach swoop in an odd terror, like his next decision might rescue them both or plunge them off a cliff.

“Maureen.” He tries again, his hand on her shoulder, squeezing and trying to turn her back.

Her shoulder jolts up sharply to displace the gesture. “I’m not cold.” she informs him as she rolls further away towards the wall, and her tone is icier than the weather outside. He’s stunned, she’s never once ignored him, no it’s always ever been an escalation of her demands for his interest. Hell, even in Africa she had said she was cold and the presence of her head on his shoulder disrupted his tan, he got no end of grief from the boys about it.

Confused and mildly hurt himself, although he doesn’t know why, not beyond some tickling sense of unfairness about being blamed for being a bit out of sorts in the place, Gale takes his hand away and moves to lie on his back, to keep from crowding her. He thinks that in the morning he will explain to her how he is preoccupied with the radio, that his gut feels in constant free fall from the plans to escape, that everyone is riding on him for this thing to work and he just proved tonight he’s perfectly worthless at it. Nothing but buzz in his ear echoes around in his head and he replays the sound of that failure again and again, justifying her frustration with him. He thinks he’ll explain this all to her in the morning. And also-

-that he is cold.

He’s so damn cold from the anxiety and being still at his work at the table for so long his hands and legs go numb that he simply cannot imagine feeling bothered at this moment, cannot imagine it and it would seem that neither can the little guy. He doesn’t deserve a reward, not for fucking up at the one thing they’ve got going for them. He catches Bucky’s eyes when he rolls over, having taken up night shift over Ida due to insomniatic tendencies. He wonders strongly if Bucky would be as disappointed in him, if he is already. Just wait until next morning, Gale thinks, when I get to admit I’ve got no second plan. If it doesn’t work as is, no amount of fiddling is gonna make it better.

That settles heavy in his gut but does nothing for the swooping feeling, there is merely a loadstone in his belly, plunging downward in a perpetual free fall, and in his dreams the accompanying soundtrack is radio static.

There is a tiny sliver of freedom in the morning -and it does not come every morning- when Maureen has noticed there is still and quiet yet the morning routines are in place. Lazy and weak, the prisoners do not rise with the sun, although some stir and moan and try to meet the new day head on. The guards unlock the doors and yet many choose to lay abed. So many in fact that Johnny Brady ceased making breakfast at that hour as with so few ready to eat it, the ordeal became a waste. He does often fetch water for morning pit baths and teeth brushing, the occasional splash on the face to wash off the sleep.

Maureen has often contemplated these little slivers of time as a chance to break free. Not of the compound, that endeavor holds no fascination to her, but rather out of this combine and out from under the watchful eyes of people who know her all too well. Or think they do. They don’t, they very obviously don’t. And she’s losing all sense of who she is to be known by as the days go on.

She listens as Johnny gathers the buckets and milk pails, always gentle with the clanking metal, vestiges of the considerate boy his mama raised still clinging even in this place, and he hands an allotment to Hambone who is awake with him and less considerate.

Then there is the hushed flurry of beratings and the sleepy protests of trying one’s best.

They leave together, and they leave the door adjar as usual, to come back in quietly if needed. They’ll be gone for at least fifteen minutes, then they will come back and then Brady will leave again to run his two goddamn laps around the compound while that testicular looking bald headed doctor clocks his pace. Maureen doesn’t think Johnny likes running track or ever did it before, but he and Ida both took it up, the latter probably to get rid of the child and the former maybe to stay warm. The doctor didn’t care about the timing of Ida’s laps and soon she began to grow too large to risk attention by keeping Johnny company.

Now Johnny runs his timed laps alone and the only motivation Maureen can imagine for it, beyond the over-familiar assessment of his limbs by the doctor, is the chocolate he earns from it. Priceless sugar to keep up his specimen’s strength in this starving place.

Chocolate Johnny regularly gives to Ida. Though for Christmas he made them all a mashed chocolate pie on a tin plate and it had honestly been the kindest and loveliest Yuletide treat anyone had ever given any of them.

Maureen has considered running with him, trying her luck and seeing if she can win chocolate herself. Maybe that would make Gale smile. She doubts the doctor would care, he’s curiously uncaring regarding the existence of females in camp.

Maureen knows all these sounds of morning routine by heart, can track the progress of each stage of the routine while feigning sleep, motionlessly facing the wall.

Gale has no need to feign, it would seem. He is not snoring but he is whimpering and muttering in that annoying way of his that only occurs when he’s in deep. She used to think it cute, she now thinks it helpful to judge if he is able to catch her at her scheme.

-useless fucker with his useless radio and his useless cock, making her feel useless-

Careful as a cat, and with as much grace, Maureen rolls herself upright, and uses the slats of their upper bunk to balance her weight, keeping the mattress from giving a tell-tale dip. She swings from one slat to the next, carefully crouching when the movement jars the whole frame but Benny stays asleep below her and Gale makes no move to arrest her. It’s a feat to drop soundlessly to her feet after such a climb in a full overcoat, but she manages it. Her boots are under Benny’s bunk and she fetches them with no small amount of terror, but despite his shifts and erratic movements, he does not catch her.

She takes the boots into the hall, which is gratefully empty, and fastens them there. Taking her woolen cap from her coat pocket, she puts it atop her head while tucking in her hair, and fastens her scarf high over her nose, and knows that she is about as inconspicuous in form and feature as the next man. When Brady is bundled similarly his eyes appear as gentle as a woman’s and Maureen knows her own are no longer half so beguiling, not with their pale lashes and absence of cosmetic relief.

Perhaps she’s grown so wane and bland Gale has even lost the ability to pretend attraction. He always was fastidious about cleanliness and order, fussy and volatile when she took him unawares. In fact, when she had first managed to get so far as to undo his pants, to fondle his half hard length, to pull him from the slit of his drawers, to tug his shaft to orgasm, it had been beside the antiseptics. And that had some sort of parable in it, she thought now. Recalling how she’d had to talk him down off a panic as soon as he had shuddered and given her the sought after reward, hot and sticky and plentiful as only a virgin’s would be. He was not comforted until gauze and betadine was used copiously to clean her hand, and the nurse was later puzzled as to why when she entered only one had needed treatment, but both left stained with the orange stuff.

Back then a word, a flick of her eyes would have Gale in full pursuit, bodily if not mentally. She could wage a war with his ever so impeccable spirit and win it with the help of his own flesh. Now? Now he couldn’t even respond, not even pretend it. And he’d tried to warn her and she’d thought he’d been begging and she realized he wanted to stall her, keep it from her, one more thing.

These thoughts carried her dozens of rows down, combine after combine, lost in a flurry of snowflakes that were turning gradually pink as the sun rose. It was beautiful here before all the footprints ruined it.

At the far end of the sector, outside the last combine before the fence that separated them from the Brits, Maureen spotted a huddle of men gathered around a fire pit. She hadn’t known those were even allowed, not doubting that its proximity to the fence had some other subversive reason beyond warmth, and if she thought it then the guards must have. Yet here it was alright, jugs hung over it from a makeshift spit and crackers impaled and being toasted on the same. Maureen’s mouth watered, as much at the thought of genuinely smoke flavored food as she did at the heat. She was still undecided as to her course of action when a loud guffaw, followed by a familiar and harsh curse made her startle.

Polish airmen -or, at least by way of America. They would be sat out in the cold at dawn and they would toast their crackers. Maureen had frequently used her brief passes from Thorpe to terrorize other officer clubs, finding the joy of it a great distraction and some of the girls had joined her at it. She was usually greeted in such escapades with shock or even disgust but the men’s flailing helplessness in the face of a female serviceman always served as a full quota of contentment.

No one had terrorized her back as good as she gave until the Poles. And then they had bought her a drink, and lamented with her that she had not become a fighter pilot. Because Maureen still held a flame for the small craft, resentful that her decent piloting had been considered too poor for the clunky birds, for she knew she wasn't all bad, it was merely those awful forts and their terrible bulk. The Poles had agreed and bought her another drink, and tried to seduce her to their squadron. That had been a happy night and she’d come back to barracks so late as to break curfew, and chatted Gale’s ear off in drunken joy about her wonderful time and her new friends.

Maureen now eyed the fire in the snow and the group of foreign speaking men around it and tugged off her cap, allowing her hair free. And she sauntered up with calculated aimlessness, as if she were indeed only checking out their s’mores to ridicule them compared to her combine’s delicacies. It was effective, they defended their crackers vehemently and she remained derisive, this called for a demand that she try them and so she did and admitted they weren’t too bad but were too dry to be gotten down her throat. So they then passed her coffee and she had to squat to receive it and then she was given a seat to finish it and before long, she was one of the huddle and her feint at leaving them was argued against so heartily she knew she’d won, and so she stayed and played cards and told stories and drank hot water with boys who had been born over here but were in many cases educated not far from her house. And when afternoon came and went she stayed, and when evening fell and the guards became stricter with the perimeter and their fire, she snuck in with them into their combine and there played drinking games despite the violation of curfew.

For the Poles had liquor in this hell hole. And that, Maureen thought, was the true measure of a great nation, their capacity for ingenuity and irrepressible spirits.

Gale entered his own combine in the falling dark with the persistent press of a gun barrel at his lower back, right about at the kidneys, he figured. It was the only thing possible to persuade him to keep from looking, and the others were filing in right ahead of him, saving him a bullet their only motivation for abandoning the search. The guards locked the door after them, and Gale’s chest heaved in panic at the thought of her out there somewhere and locked out and him locked in.

“Fuckin’ Kendeigh.” Murph grumbled but without any heat,

taking himself to his barracks.

Bucky kept pacing up and down the hall with his hands in his hair, snapping at anyone who dared clog his promenade. “Jerries said it was time for bed -so get in your goddamn beds!”

“Why would she do this?” Gale begged him again and Bucky huffed again at it, furious for him.

“She give you grief last night?” Bucky asked wisely, the loyalty in his voice soothes Gale, as does the structure of his sentence, it suggested it wasn’t his fault. And Gale wanted to believe that and he just as strongly he knew it was wrong of him.

He had been in the wrong and he didn’t deserve Bucky’s sympathy for this or the damn radio. They’d been talking of repairs every spare minute of this day that hadn’t been taken up with trying to find Maureen. And while Bucky could remain as adamant as he wanted, that it wasn’t his fault that his radio didn’t work -it didn’t change the fact that his failure now meant Bucky was gonna try something awful instead, like climbing the fence with a pregnant woman on his shoulders. And it was all because Gale couldn’t fucking make a connection. Just as he couldn’t connect to his own body for Maureen and now she’d probably gone over the fence too, or got shot trying.

“So fuckin’ unless.” He dug the heels of his palms into his eyes and mashed the tears away.

“She call ya that?” Egan barked, and Gale didn’t need to see his frown to know he was about to track down Kendeigh to punch her, not rescue her.

“No, don’t need a dame to tell me what’s what.”

He didn’t see it coming so he was reasonably startled when he found his hands dislodged from his eyes and his face suddenly collided into the weave of a musky sweater, Bucky’s hand gripping the nape of his neck like he were a child. That hand was so damn large Gale could imagine he was young again and his father was holding him. “Somethin’s gonna come to you,” this reassuring rumble was light years away from his father’s belittlements and he shuddered, “I’ll get you new wire or somethin’ but just- ain’t your fault, Buck, and that goddamn parakeet needs snow down her pants if she can’t see it too.”

No one pretended to sleep that night, even once the lights were out. Ida sat up in her bunk with her brother beside her, a telling lack of sympathy being expressed for Maureen’s self inflicted plight. Ida had spent her own time at the radio and while it hadn’t done much good, it had gone some way to reassure Gale she didn’t see anything amiss. It ought to work.

Small talk was kept carefully low in the bunks, and Bucky kept a firm position on Gale’s bunk, sitting upright with his legs slung over his friend’s boney knees, affectionately trapping him in a lying posture. Bucky had taken to entrapments here in camp, perhaps the barbed wire inspired him.

They had already given Benny his fair share of chiding for not going out with Maureen that the morning, although Brady’s report of her absence in the time he had fetched water plainly represented someone not wishing for accompaniment -or, as Brady so helpfully reminded of the obvious, her desire to obey Cleven’s long standing order on the matter.

It was probably close to 0100 when a great commotion sounded outside, followed by a crash bang of the combine’s main doors being thrown wide and the rhythmic tread of jackboots had everyone pouring out of their bunks and standing at the ready, -they weren’t sure for what, but it wasn’t something you wanted to be caught lying down for. Gale wrenched open the door, expectancy already perfectly in place on his face until he caught sight of Kendeigh, hauled like a child between the guards and one of their captains met his eye with unimpressed disdain.

“This we found in wrong sector.” he explained, gesticulating to Maureen with a gloved hand, “Sleeping under combine steps. I have told you, Major, I cannot guarantee safety of your females when they are alone, something happen to them, you blame me but I told you! Cannot guarantee.”

“Understood.” Cleven gave him his soberest nod, feeling ill and angry and watching warily for the next move, wondering when he could get his lost package back, yet not wanting to appear eager.

“Discipline, major, discipline!” The Captain insisted and Gale felt Bucky’s heat searing at his back as he pressed forward, taking the German’s eyes away from Gale’s, preventing something rash.

“Oh believe me, sir,” Bucky drawled as he pressed forward, the guards posture confidant and lax, “discipline will be met.” he took the brave step of gripping Kendeigh’s coat flap in his hand and tugging her forward, a movement that yanked her free of the gaurds’s grip.

“Met?” the officer was confused, anger and annoyance tinged his repetition.

Bucky shook Maureen meanly by her coat in emphasis of his statement, “Discipline!” he agreed, insistent.

“Well?” It appeared the officer intended to wait until it was meted out.

Bucky stalled and Gale caught Maureen’s panicked eyes even as her nose flared rebelliously with measured breaths, trying to get on top of it all. Gale felt himself pushed to the side abruptly, having to catch himself on the door as Ida Brady strode past him into the hall, the book she’d been perusing still clutched in her hand.

“Child.” she muttered loudly for the officer’s benefit before raising her book and striking Mauree square across the face, one cheek and then the other as the blow sent her staggering, sharp thwacks with the flat side of the volume.

Maureen took the reproof with good grace and a stunned whimper, Bucky’s still supportive clutch on her jacket keeping her from making a fully pathetic scene and melting to the floor.

“Go, in, get in bed.” Ida snapped her fingers, pointing to the door and when Maureen took a second too long to collect her spotted vision, Ida raised the book again and Maureen needed no more incentive, knowing if Ida did not deliver it the guards would.

She tumbled over the barracks threshold like a bedraggled orphan, hair snow drenched and cheeks throbbing, her jacket muddy and undone.

“Well done.” Johnny Brady greeted with montone venom and only Benny Demarco’s well placed foot tripped her and prevented her from clawing his face off in long suppressed spite.

She landed inelegantly on her face, elbows bent just enough to catch herself from a truly ugly splat, she was gathering herself for another spring when the troop of her officers sounded and the door closed and quiet fell over the place, lethal and accusing.

So the Germans had let her off easy then. Maureen drug herself up to her knees and suddenly wished she hadn’t, it felt too close to contrition.

She staggered upright, ignoring the indignity of having to push up on Brady’s knee to do so. Once on her own two feet she raked muddy fingers through her hair and smiled at her superiors, tired but dandy. They looked pissed and that was to be expected.

“The hell did you go?” The others seemed to acknowledge Gale had some right -or maybe it was responsibility- to address her first and it was leveled at her even more scathingly than she had braced for.

“For fresh air.” she chimed, leaning against a bunk brace, arms crossed easily.

“Sleepin’ out? Sneakin’ out?” Gale stormed on and Ida actually took pains to bypass him and climb into her own bunk, her merciful discipline administered she seemed to wash her hands of the business, “Flagrantly disobeying my expressed orders! Answer me! The hell were you thinking?”

“I wanted to get out,” she leveled back at him, her smirk grown sharp and practiced and debutant-worthy, “I wanted to be somewhere else besides in this stinking, miserable cabin with its miserable, stinking occupants. Nothing but a bunch of self righteous, maniacally focused dreamers who can’t have fun for shit.”

As soon as she said it, no regret came, only a feeling of utter validation. Indeed, what had changed since she had been gone? Ida was still sick and pregnant, Johnny was still fussy, Benny was still playing at cards, Bucky was still pushing Gale harder than any over the radio and her Cleven was cleaving to the damn thing like it were his god.

“I mean, tell me if I missed something essential!” She scoffed, “Some great development occur? Or was I needed for some great task you all missed me so desperately during? No? Didn’t think so. Because we don’t go anything in here except talk about getting out like it’s actually plausible and I’m sick as fuck of it and I-“ she pointed to herself, voice growing in volume as Gale’s own fury seemed to wane into something shocked and scared, “I have spent my day with men who have ingenuity and good humor and liquor, because they aren’t hopeless fucks like us. The Brit’s have a tunnel started, the Polish have one too along with a bathtub of potato peel vodka, and we have a pregnant colonel! Sto lat!”

It was terribly quiet for a moment, half the cabin's occupants intent on appearing discrete and the other half stunned into a sort of mortified offense.

“You gonna thrash her or am I?” Egan finally broke the tension, his head turning lazily to look at Gale, his mouth was grinning like he was eager and it made Maureen’s bruised cheeks flame. It seemed to be some private joke, Maureen could only tell by the way Cleven’s eyes widened in warning protest at his friend before biting his lip and sniffing harshly. Then the lights cut again and the place was plunged in darkness, it brought Maureen both relief at the obscurity and a strange feeling of terror at the pitch black surroundings. She still hated the dark, ever since those Gestapo cells.

“Take that filthy shit off and get in your bunk.” Gale’s voice so near and so sudden startled her, and it wasn’t rebellion that made her lag in response but he seemed to take it that way, the snap of his finger seeming dangerously close to her nose, and she felt his fingers pluck at her muddy coat, “Now, don’t test me, get in, now.”

She peeled it off and let it flop heavily to the floor before kicking off her boots with the same carelessness, and then taking a step up, digging her frozen toes into Benny’s mattress and hauling herself up to the next level, laying down with a shiver in the cold sheets. The quiet sounds of rustling and bedding filled the place, the others putting themselves away for the night too, but to her relief no one seemed to be murmuring about her. Then the bunk creaked again and the unmistakable feel of someone climbing in beside her made her gasp.

Gale, of course it was Gale, laid himself out atop her, like he planned to keep her there by his weight alone like Bucky had with Ida, and an odd feeling suddenly took possession of Maureen’s chest, one she hadn’t felt all day: she felt undeserving. His head was hard and awkward against her clavicle but she didn’t want to budge him, secretly and utterly grateful he was being kind, that he was not ignoring her. Maybe Ida was right and she was childish but if that were the case, what was to be done about it? She was as she was and she needed him, so tentatively after a few minutes, she withdrew her legs out from under his own and wrapped them around his hips, pulling him close all along her like they were mating, she meant it as a hug and she felt him limp and heavy between her thighs but she did not withdraw.

Gale waited patiently until the snores began, wind whistling outside so loudly it would cover their whispers, and she shuddered to think of herself being petty enough to try to sleep in that icebox. “I need you to tell me what’s wrong.” he rasped at last, raising his head a little and trying to get a read on her in the semi dark. “Maureen, you can’t worry me like that, please.”

“I’m tired.” her voice was weak from the effort to hold back an ugly sob.

“You've been tired before.” he soothed, “What about today? What about last night? What’s all this? C’mon, you can tell me, I need ya to tell me.”

Maureen sighed raggedly, always a sucker for his cajoling voice, more so when she knew she deserved and expected the thrashing. “You don’t need me that way. You don’t need me at all.”

Gale dropped his head a little, his hand reaching up to pinch his nose, humiliation and impotence warring with need to assure her. “I'm sorry about that.” he settled for, “I’m too fucked right now, I admit it. It’s all just, it’s a lot, we’ve all got a lot goin’ on. You too, I know, I’m just not right up there, Maureen. Doesn’t mean I don’t need you.”

“You don’t need me during the day and you don’t need me at night.” she had tried to dissuade herself of this painful reality, truly! -but those were the facts as she saw them and it hurt her worse than him.

“I’m doing this for you!” he begged, his large hand cupping the side of her throat and she would love to think it a caress but he was only trying to make a point, one she contested vehemently in her heart. “I won’t be okay until you’re safe, baby.”

Maureen scoffed, thick and bitter, she had no child, she had no threat, she didn’t need to get out. “I don’t have any reason to get out!” She seethed back, “What’s in it for me? Besides you dead and me too, maybe I’ll get sent back to the Gestapo. That’ll be lark. I don’t need to get out, Major, I need-“

Gale was panting in her face, hot and hurried as her own ire rose with each word, “What do you need?” he goaded, and she could hear him lick his lips.

“I need you to pay attention to me.” she said it.

And to anyone else it would have sounded the most petty thing of all, but to Gale Cleven it was something he already knew deep down when he wasn’t so caught up in the imminent might-be’s of their situation, when he wasn’t needing to save Bucky from himself, or Ida from being put down or Johnny from whatever Greek hell that doctor had enlisted him in. He knew Maureen needed him, not his brains or what he could give, not really, she just wanted his flesh, and he had never bartered in that currency before her, having always assumed it was cheap if not with love. He was not sure he was loved but he knew it was not cheap, whatever it was they shared. And he knew she needed him. Just as he needed her, even though he could not manifest it as he wished.

He could kiss her, though. That he could do.

She did not expect the plush press of his lips when she saw him duck his head against the halo of window light. He kisses with intent and with reproof and the part of her that enjoys his anger begins to thrum to life as mercy and justice both battle in his kiss, his tongue all forgiveness and his teeth implacable rightness.

“Why?” she whines at him, feeling herself need and yet he lays between her legs useless as a girl, “why’re you when you can’t-“ she has insulted him enough today, she trails off with surprising tact.

“Don’t mean I don’t need you.” his voice has gone gruff like it does when he holds her head firmly and grinds his once hard cock down her throat, “Don’t mean your boy don’t want you.”

And that’s all she needed, really.

Along with the feeling of his fingertips walking down her bare stomach, his hand somehow sneaking its way through her layers undetected until now. It awakes a trail of fire down to her core, her core that is already ablaze by his kissing, his neglect, his language.

“My baby.” she moans in ascent, loudly and exultant and a little mournful.

“I gotchue, I got you.” he swears into her mouth and his hand wastes no time in slithering between her legs, elegant fingers cupping her and smearing her arousal around beneath his fingertips.

“Fuck them into me.” she begs, his hand swiping and rubbing at her heat until her hole clenches in desperation, wanting the burn of a stretch.

He is used to her instructions, they’d have accomplished nothing these last months without them, he is able to obey without ceding one bit of control in the kiss and the dichotomy of it, of him, makes her spiral as long fingers plunge, three at a time into her like he’s mad at her, and she cums from it alone with a hoarse cry of shock. He leans up and over her, hair aglow in the dim light and his hand beginning to slam again and again between her legs, forearm hard at work before he brings his wrist to her mouth.

“Bite.” he tells her, an offer and an order and she does, repaying him the vicious assault below her waist where she is tugged apart and jammed at with all too much finesse, his thumb swiping at the apex of her slit everytime he plunges knuckle deep. Gale knows by now the signs of her peak but he pushes beyond it, adds his pinky until all four digits wreak havoc and makes her go again. She uses his wrist out of necessity not to wake the whole place. The sounds of her squelching may have done it for her.

He pets her after, his palm warmed up by his work and it cups and soothes her as she jerks and jolts and settles, and his nose nuzzles her own sweetly, murmuring her name again and again just how she likes it.

“Don’t you ever scare me like that again.” he begs between smooches and Maureen feels entirely too weak to deny him.

“Ok.”

“Promise?” his tone and his hand grow firm again.

“Yeah.”

“Alright.” he sighs beside her and she thinks she could fall asleep now he’s wrung her out. He pets her a few moments longer, as if loathe to pull his hand free. He cups her one more time, collecting her wetness in the crook of his fingers before at last he does, carefully bringing his hand up and out of her waistband. He holds it in front of himself for a brief moment as if debating how to enact his thoughts, and she watches him curiously because he does not lick his digits clean like usual, perhaps she is too soiled tonight, even for his devotion.

Instead she watches him roll onto his back, hand still aloft and glittery with an obscene amount of sticky pleasure and his other hand trails to his own fly, popping the button deftly with his left hand and tugging down the fastening. Her breath catches in her throat, suspense and arousal at the familiar motion making her perk once more. Gale shimmies his clothing down his thighs until she can see him just barely, lying fat and peaceful against his thigh. He deserves a little peace, she thinks, now that she is not so cross with him.

She holds his gaze in startled suspense as he locks eyes with her, wanting her to stare when he moves his wet hand down and wraps it around himself, smearing her juices all over his soft member, clear and creamy swirls rubbed into the pink meat of him, down to his very balls.

“There,” he manages between her kisses as she assails him anew with desperate appreciation, “you’ve still got me. I’m still yours.”

She drags her hand down there to feel the sticky evidence of his promise, to rub and fondle him as he lays dormant in her palm. She has often snickered to him that he is too tidy to ever fully have sex, he has had qualms over even what they do with their hands, their mouths as well. He was pleased she could swallow only for the mess it prevented. She’s often told him he’ll find coupling a filthy business and he oughta brace himself. This tacky feeling under her palm is the closest they’ve ever gotten to the act, her fluids touching him there, drying on him. She appreciates the gesture, more than here heart can bear to ponder: she also knows he’ll regret it.

“I’ve got some amends to make.” she acknowledges after giving him one last kiss and checking that the coast is clear. Egan is doubtless still awake as usual and perhaps Brady, but it can’t be helped and she doesn’t give a damn. “Try to be quiet -don’t think too hard on it, it’s fine if this is all it is.” she preemptively cautions before he can realize what she intends.

She slinks down the length of him, careful not to jar the whole bunk, careful to keep a low profile to the blankets before dipping her head in the little nest of covers shoved around his thighs. Despite her assurances Gale makes a keening noise of confusion when her tongue darts out without preamble and licks up the seam of his balls.

“Maureen.” he sounds half strangled but his hand flies out, not to prevent her, but to pet her lustrous hair. She feels utterly content in that moment and continues her quest to tidy him up.

“You hate being sticky.” she reminds in a whisper before gently sucking on his soft tip, she can feel his belly heaving in relaxed sighs, the connection not fully alive and yet, potent all the same, he pets her hair more firmly and even pushes her head down further and she gets the hint, abandoning his soft cock head for the chubby vein beneath, licking stripes of herself off him.

“I’m sorry I hurt you.” she whispers to the inanimate little thing, remembering how meanly she squeezed it the night before. “I swear we’re still friends.”

Gale vaguely registers her apology to his bits and bobs but he is genuinely more distracted by two glinting shards across the room that have to be Bucky’s blazing eyes. Trained right on him. Holy hell, he feels himself shake and the closest thing to a twitch animates between his legs before he throws his hand over his eyes and pretends he is very alone. He pets her head more purposefully, long, feminine strands slipping through his fingers.

John Egan once put a bet on how long it would take these idiots to learn they were in love. It was once all a bit funny. And now, seeing in a dim haze what appears to be the ritual of making up, it’s not so funny any more. Today could have gone far worse, any attention to the women was bad attention and having Ida have to make a scene while hiding a belly like that was nearly criminal in Bucky’s mind.

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t glad for Gale. No, he was so glad he was half jealous watching, imagining more than even seeing. He wondered if Maureen knew how much she loved him, he wondered how it compared to his own, and he ached like hell.

Next morning Gale woke up with a sore spot on his chest from the weight of her head lying there all night, and to the tinkering sounds of the metal water jugs being jostled. There was a laugh and a responding “shh” and another stifled laugh following. He rolled his head on the pillow and blearily cracked an eye open, taking in Brady and Maureen over their task. Or at least, Johnny was trying while fighting some whispered bit of comedy that Maureen continued despite Johnny’s wheezing protests and incompetent fumbling with his handles.

“You ain’t bein’ quiet, if ya think you are.” Benny’s grumble from the bunk below said what Gale was thinking, but he was too relieved to see Maureen awake, cheerful and integrated again to complain.

“I’m telling him about a Romanian girl in the other sector, met her yesterday.” Maureen stage whispered and Brady began to lose it again, muffling his whole face into his sleeve, milk pail abandoned on the floor so he could laugh. “There’s a fence between and she’s a fighter pilot but she’s seen him at his laps and she wants him.”

Benny stayed quiet a minute before his own laugh started and Gale could feel the vibrations of it from a whole bunk below. “She put in an order or somethin’?”

“Practically.” Maureen drawled, “She was so relieved to meet an American so arrangements can be made for my fellow. She has cows back home Johnny, she’d trade ten for you. Those big Eastern European cows, straight from a storybook, it’s worth consideration.”

“Grab your jug.” Johnny insisted instead in a small wheeze as he collected his own and strode out, looking behind to ensure she was following and beginning to laugh at eye contact. Maureen threw her head back and guffawed that ugly little cackle of hers as she went out.

“I think we missed part of the first act.” Benny observed about the joke from below, Gale didn’t know what talent it was but his co-pilot always seemed to sense when he was awake, no checking needed.

“Yup.” Gale puffed into his pillow, not giving a damn about the content of her material only that some material was back.

Someone else who was shit at playing asleep was John Egan. Gale slunk out of his bed quietly to not awake everyone else and went over to the sprawled out form of his friend, Ida tucked behind his back and the wall, genuinely asleep despite the nicotine she had coursing through her. Gale reached out and flicked at an overgrown curl dangling over his friend's face, the return momentum of it tickled his nose and he sneezed on compulsion.

“Sleep well?” Gale asked as Bucky stared up at him, betrayed and crinkly faced.

“Was.” he accused.

“Talk?” Buck proposed in a monosyllable and he watched Egan’s raw morning eyes shutter closed into something as readable as millponds.

“Yeah, sure.” There was a series of grunts and heaves of effort as Bucky righted himself and finally pushed out of the bunk, “Hall?” he asked while contemplating just how little he wanted to don boots right now.

“Hall’s fine.”

They went out together, it was quiet in the hall despite the awakening rustle in the various rooms off it. It stayed quiet once they’d both taken a wall to lean against because Gale Cleven wasn’t good at broaching topics despite his bravery to initiate their surroundings. Egan had a sense what this was about, but then, things usually weren’t about the thing they were about, they were about another thing reflected in the thing and that’s where he got lost. But watching Gale Cleven take in a breath five times only to exhale and chew his lip got a little tedious, even by his standards for how much he enjoyed watching his Buck at anything.

If this was about being observed last night, Egan sure as fuck wasn’t gonna take the blame for seeing shit in a packed dormitory. Or, combine, barracks, whatever. So, a sentence like -sorry I watched you get licked at like a bowl of milk last night- didn’t reflect his sentiments at all. And he’d never lied to Buck, not once, except maybe about not social engineering his way onto planes during rough missions. So instead he went with an easy going, “Must be nice to almost get everyone killed then get rewarded for it.”

Gale’s eyes sharpened instantly but the harsh retort Egan panted for didn’t come, instead something tired took over and Gale pinched his nose. “We’re all goin’ a little looney in here.”

“Are we?” Bucky hummed combatively, “How you crackin’ up these days?” it wasn't fair his Buck had all this weight on him and a fussy woman besides.

“I’m havin’ an affair with a fellow officer.” Gale recited in a devastated montone, and Egan hadn’t expected such transparency. Not in criminal language.

“Well,” he ceded, “there is that.”

“And occurrences like last night are gonna need to keep happenin.” Gale was informing him and Bucky didn’t know what to do with that, his tone was that of an officer but his soft blue eyes flicked with a plea to be understood. “To keep her -tame. Some sorta sane. She’s like you, she wasn’t meant for this place.”

“Just last week you told me nobody was.” Egan pointed out just to be contrary but he couldn’t help his grin and Buck caught sight of it before he could suppress it, knowing the banter and its innate kinship was back.

“I need you to promise me somethin’.” Gale went on, a nervous hand rubbing at the back of his neck and Bucky perked at the sight of that tick.

“Yeah?”

“I want you to promise to wait a week before you try anythin’.” Gale said, “You said I’d come up with somethin’ and I will, but I need a week Bucky. Give me that, can’t let you leave here without any direction of where to head toward. Wait on that radio, don’t you go off gettin’ yourself shot and Ida, too.”

A week in this place felt like a year, a week with an ever swelling woman felt like an eternity of valuable, crucial time. Bucky ran his bare toes over the splintering wood and tried to focus on the way the wood shards pricked at his frozen toes. “Alright.” he agreed, couldn’t help himself when Buck was looking at him like that and telling him he didn’t want him to die. “Alright.” He repeated more forcefully just to see Gale’s face clear and some old expression of peaceful relief smooth out his worry lines, not as much as Maureen’s tongue could do, Bucky wagered, but it was a little relief of his own he could give. “But you make a poor incentive for obeying you.” he pointed out cheekily, shoving off his wall to advance on Gale and shove a finger in those still full cheeks, “You gonna reward me if I disobey an’climb over on day six?”

Gale rolled his eyes, an expression all too pretty with his cheek distorted by Egan’s rough fingers, his eyes wary and loving all at once, Bucky had missed that look, it was coy as hell and one of his favorites on his friend. “Don’t count on it.”

💋 Hope you enjoyed! Feedback is a writer’s lifeblood, please feel free to scream in comments or the inbox, I love it and wanna hear it all. Trust me, nothing is “too dumb”. Your thoughts mean the world to me.

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[genericpuff]

I saw your "hades and apollo looking at Persephone the exact same" post and like honestly??? This series would be so much better if Hades/Persephone were intended to be toxic and Hades was MEANT to be a manipulative asshole. There are so many panels where everything is designed to make it look like Hades is the bad guy (hades following/"rescuing" persephone during the proposal) and like... ugh if it was INTENTIONAL it would be so much more interesting for the story. But it's not and it bothers me so much.

Also your "Thanatos yelling at Hades with Hades speech to Kronos" edit made my whole life, I was literally liveblogging my reading of the chapter to a friend on discord and i was telling them that everything Hades said to Kronos is something Thanatos deserved to tell Hades and I wanted someone to make an edit. So thank you for reading my mind somehow and making it 😂💖

Right, I've been dying over the same thought for ages now, if the whole point of LO was to showcase a girl being groomed and manipulated into becoming a worse person due to a richer and older man taking advantage of her... then maybe I'd be singing praises about what it's accomplished because as it stands, I really can't celebrate LO as being a "romance" in any way shape or form.

Either that, OR it should have stayed as like, a feel-good fluffy office romance story. Like if it had stayed in the territory of S1 with Persephone going to university and working in the Underworld without delving into any of the crazy supernatural fertility goddess / Kronos returning BS. Sure, considering it's Greek myth obviously it wouldn't be as 'fun' to have the characters not be actual gods who get into supernatural tussles, but LO just... isn't being written by someone who's capable of writing stories to that scale, and it's especially evident throughout the entire third season. Rachel should have just stuck to the character-driven plotlines with the grounded and intimate story beats (slice-of-life type stuff).

That's not to say she shouldn't ever try to write a bigger story with higher stakes and more intricate plotlines, but like... she's clearly not ready for that yet and I hope at the very least LO has been a learning experience for her so that her next story will either be more grounded or at the very least organized better if she can't resist doing a larger-than-life story.

also ur welcome LOL though honestly I can't take credit for that because that was basically ALL of us reacting to that scene like... wtf, this is what Thanatos should be saying to Hades fr LOL so have some confidence in knowing that you weren't alone in feeling that LMAO

[valkyrieandstrangeridingaragorn]

Episode 2 of What If Season 2 poked the Peggy hornet’s nest and did exactly what I thought it would. 

So, for context, in this reality Yondu actually handed Peter Quill over to Ego when he was supposed to, and within just 6 months Ego was able to corrupt his son into a conqueror, so they invade Earth together. Peggy is director of SHIELD at the time, and she and Howard work together to assemble a proto-Avengers team to stop them. The team consists of Hank Pym, Bill Foster, T’Chaka, Thor, Wendy Lawson (who I think is from Captain Marvel), and… wait for it… the Winter Motherfucking Soldier. 

Yes, for real.

And because I know you’re thinking it, the excuse given is that he is in the hands of the Russians during this time, so Peggy and Howard couldn’t possibly have known about it UwU. Anyway, when they see him there’s a super drawn-out moment where they both think they recognize him (and it’s while he still has the mask on, so while this probably wasn’t intentional I actually read that as yet another middle finger to Steve, as Peggy could apparently recognize Bucky even under his disguise while Steve couldn’t). And then, Howard says, I shit you not: “I'd heard the rumors, but even if they’re true, the man we knew is long-gone, Peg, and we have bigger fish to fry.” And then later in the episode, with no segway from that to this, there’s a scene where they’re all together and the Winter Soldier has his mask off, and actually speaks. 

So, at least in this universe, Howard and Peggy are 100% aware that Bucky Barnes is in fact the Winter Soldier. Later on in the episode Howard attempts to get through to him, but only when it becomes a necessity to save the world (because he is about to kill Peter Quill while Hank is trying to convince him to turn on Ego), but it’s still pretty damning. And then at the end of the episode, rather than trying to rehabilitate him, they just let him go. Like, it’s not the same situation as Steve where he was out cold and unable to do anything, they could have taken Bucky in and tried to break his programming, but they didn’t. It’s left ambiguous what will happen to him after that, so it’s not like they sent him back to Hydra, but Hydra is still out there in this universe, so my hopes aren’t high.

TLDR; this episode attempts to handwave away the very strong possibility that the Howard and Peggy of the Prime Timeline knew what was happening to Bucky, but in doing so unintentionally made them look so much worse.

I don't... I can't even... WTF did I just read? (not you of course, I mean, what is wrong with Marvel?) 🤦‍♀️

So they use Bucky while brainwashed and/or still with Hydra's BS in his mind, and they don't even care to help him out after? They see a victim and they use him and then turn away from him, not caring about his well-being? And, I assume, Howard and Lady Brexit are still framed as good guys? And how are they any better than Hydra in that story?! The absolute nerve...

Once I read the spoilers a few days ago and saw they were going to have her as Director of SHIELD, I just knew they were going to absolve her of everything and never have her answer for any of her actions. And of course the only one who says he had "heard rumours" was Howard, not her. She's an angelic glorious being incapable of doing anything wrong. What in the absolute narrative protection is this...

Howard and Miss Brexit couldn't possibly know about Bucky... yeah, right. Except for the fact that they knew what Zola had done, because Steve told them, and they still willingly worked alongside him, even gave him a nickname. Oh Arnie, my beloved, wasn't it fun when you tortured Steve's best friend? Let's have some beer. I don't see how Miss "I shoot innocents when I'm jealous" Brexit could have recognized Bucky considering she didn't give a damn about him after Steve risked his own life against her wishes to save him, but apparently in this she can tell who he is even with a mask on? Damn girl, did you inject the serum in him yourself?

And I'm sorry but what is this... “I'd heard the rumors, but even if they’re true, the man we knew is long gone.” Excuse me? Oh, good enough to use but not good enough to save? How is the everloving hell is that even a line?! Oh my god, Marvel, just say you hate Bucky and go. I don't get it, what, he's the guy who ruins their beloved Steggy nonsense and they can't help themselves, they have to drag him through the mud for daring to be more important to Steve than Miss Brexit here? (And I say that as a non-shipper but holy crap, this is nuts.)

Not even in another timeline are these two somewhat redeemable. And Bucky is fucked up no matter what. Typical.

So the Infinity Saga had Stark as their golden boy and now it's Agent Brexit's time to shine... Will the Hero Cinematic Universe ever provide any heroes of narrative protection or are they going to choose the bad ones only? Oh, you're a soldier kidnapped, tortured and brainwashed? Go ahead and make amends, you monster. Oh, you willingly worked for the TVA and tortured and killed because you wanted to? Poor you, let us frame you as good and pat you on the back, you sweet thing.

Wow, I got mad in this one. Sorry. I have the Bucky feels right now 😜😂

[chunkymamatam]

Do you have any more info about shifting to MHA? I know that was probably a while ago but I really wanna try shifting there so yeah!! :DDD

Yeah. It was a really long time ago. Like 4 years lol

So this was actually the first time and place I wanted to shift to. It was mostly mini shifting.

One time I went and I “gained sentience” as me and my friends like to call it lmfao in the street. I looked around and I was like “oh shit. I’m actually here.. huh. I wonder if I can bother Hawks” I saw he was busy and I was like “man I’ll go bother Aizawa he’s too busy with fan girls for me to introduce myself.” I go to walk off and I hear flapping of wings

My first thought was “ah he has hero work to do.” Tell me why this man lands in front of me and knocks me on my ass. That shit hurt like a bitch 😭THEN HE HAS THE AUDACITY TO ASK IF I NEED HELP GETTING UP LIKE HE DIDN'T DO THAT SHIT ON PURPOSE

Also keep in mind I had never met that man until then. I shifted home it freaked me out so bad lol It's funnier when I remember over there my clone teleported her ass away pfff

The next time I managed to shift there I was in an alleyway and all of a sudden a feather floats down. This stalking ass bitch was watching me up above. He drops down and I kindly (NOT) tell him he needs to stop doing that shit (He hasn't done it since pfffff) and he was like

"So.. You're the one who teleported away in the middle of a crowded area?"

"What does that matter? The fuck were you doing watching me???"

"That's for me to know and you to never find out! Haha anyway duty calls" THEN THE BITCH FLIES AWAY Keep in mind I didn't think he was actually stalking me and that's why I didn't freak out more and this next bit happened.

I left after that interacting and came back a different night. It was night and I was just trying to figure out wtf to do now that I'm here and tell me why this man appears behind me saying some "We meet again!" Now if I call you one of my many claimable slurs...(/j) but seriously tho little 18 year old Tam was just happy to be there lmfao. He comes at me with the "I just got off of work you wanna get a bite to eat"

... I said yes and he finally asked my name LMFAO I ended up going to his place at the end of the night. Crazy I know but again I didn't think he was ACTUALLY stalking me okay????

It gets better because after that I ended up accidentally shifting into the LOV hide out LMFAO I literally don't know why tf my clone was there but I was trying to get out of there so fast. They wanted me dead bro. Now I momentarily shot myself in the foot when I was arguing why they should let me live. Shiggy asked why I should be allowed to live and I was like "I got dirt on everyone"

he said "prove it"

I was like "Well I got dirt on everyone here too so I could probably prove it like that"

BRUH BAD MOVE THEY WANTED ME GONE EVEN WORSE WHEN I PROVED IT

I revealed to Dabi I knew who he was and gave a few details about every person there that I definitely shouldn't have know from there perspective but then Magne came in and I was like "HOLY SHIT YOU'RE STILL ALIVE????" proceeded to give them life saving advice for her and went home cuz that shit was TOO stressful. had to let my clone deal lmfao

It worked considering I was a free man when i went back. did it last long? no. Was freedom nice for a while?? yeah. Tell me why I run into Hawks and Endeavor. He introduced us and idk if it's just his face but bro was mean mugging me. Endeavor please stop looking at me like that I haven't even started dogging on you verbally yet. They end up running off to do their job or whatever and I walk off. Tell me why I see Shigaraki creeping in an alleyway just watching. HELLO??? I cross the street and end up getting snatched up by Dabi and Twice anyway but fucking christ bro. They take me to the warehouse and tell me why they hit me with the "You were right" MAGNE FUCKING DIED BRO I WAS SO UPSET

Long story short they forced me to stay with them after that. Dabi for the longest time gave me the cold shoulder and was acting like he hated me. I'm just gonna say he didn't and not go too far into what happened cuz idk how old you are. There was also this time when Shigaraki kissed me out of nowhere. I was drunk and rambling and crying about something to him and he kissed me. Gonna be honest I thought he just wanted me to shut up and he was just following the trope. I didn't think he liked me. I only found out because he found out what happened with Dabi and chased me down to confront me about it. It was a wild time. I was so fucking scared bro.

He said "How did you not know I liked you??? I literally kissed you"

"I thought you just wanted me to STFU!"

Shiggy after I said that dumb shit:

I'm fucking stupid when it comes to people liking me in short. I stopped going to that specific DR shortly after that. I have other MHA DRs if y'all wanna hear about them.

[sunohws]

no rules - kang taehyun

pairing: fwb!taehyun x m!reader

synopsis: you and Taehyun are fwb and in order to not spoil their friendship, Taehyun imposes some rules on the relationship . . . (there's actually no other way to describe this.)

word count: 0.8k

a/n: ssfw :3 . . . this is also very VERY cringey... beware. also this has been in my drafts for over 2 weeks. um.. i may or may not have forgetten about it when i was revamping my profile. LOL!

Taehyun had four set rules when they first started out: first, no sex while they were on a busy schedule, i.e. at the time of performances, promotions, or tours; second, avoid unnecessary caresses; third, no kissing on the mouth; last but not least, no sleeping together, especially after sex.

These were four simple rules, but y/n hated them with all his heart. He knew that he could not break them, nor could he complain to have them eliminated, and finally he understood that Taehyun had them set for a reason. The Korean man had talked about something to do with the chemistry of human emotions and how not respecting them would cause a romantic attachment on the part of them, which would inevitably end their friendships.

Maybe Taehyun had exaggerated or been dramatic? you couldn’t tell, it was better not to risk it. And it’s not that you didn’t believe that, in fact, you didn’t care. Considering that you were already in love with Taehyun, nothing could make it worse. But you couldn’t tell his friend, or it might not only shake their friendship, but also with the group dynamic, more than the casual sex they had.

Which you thought was too little, considering everyone was busy with performances and touring for the last few months, a situation mentioned in Taehyun’s rules that left you with calluses on your hands, if you know what I mean.

You understood this, of course it was necessary to focus on work, to avoid distractions. However, in your humble opinion and perspective, even during work, they need to relax a little, even take some risks… And that is why you were in Taehyun’s room, lying half-naked on his bed, waiting for him to come out of the bathroom.

Originally, Huening Kai was supposed to be sharing the room with Taehyun, but fortunately, with your wit and persuasion – and a bit of bribery - you managed to swap places with the maknae. When Taehyun finally emerged from the bathroom, his gaze wandered in surprise and confusion to see your figure on his bed. And to your delight, Taehyun’s gaze also showed interest.

“No.” he said seriously, interrupting you before you could even say anything, causing your smile to crumble. “We’ve talked about this, not during concerts and promotions.” He said slowly, making sure that the other understood. You rolled your eyes.

“Oh come on.” You huffed, standing up and approaching Taehyun, wrapping your arms around his larger body. You smiled when your realize, Taehyun didn’t pull away. “You’re so tense…”

“Y/N”

You just nibbled Taehyun’s ear in response, fiddling and messing up his hair and, damn, Taehyun was so hot. You already felt as hard as a stone to have him in his arms, clean and smelling good, wearing only a robe, since knowing him well, he probably wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

“Are you an animal or what?” Taehyun gasped, failing to maintain a serious posture in front of the elder man, exposing his neck and giving you more room to act. You, who is no fool (ur super smart), immediately took advantage of this, leaving a trail of kisses on his skin as he ran his hands alonf the others body. A stronf and tasy body, just the way you likedit.

To be honest you still found it surreal the situation you were in, having a beneficial friendship relationship (im sorry wtf) with none other than Kang Taehyun, his crush…

“Y/N, seriously, we’re not even home…”

“But we are alone. And the reason why you don’t like to have sex with me when we are on tour or performing is because you’re afraid that you wont be able to dance the next day, but we don’t have a performance tomorrow.” You insisted, as you untied Taehyun’s robe a bit. And well, he didn’t stop you.

“pfft, I can’t believe you said that.” Taehyun laughed and patted your chest. You weren’t lying. “And look at you, as excited as I am.” You smiled, opening your robe. Taehyun narrowed his eyes and looked at you with an expression that should have been threatening but failed miserably.

“Well, just this once.” Agreed Taehyun.

You didn’t need anything else, you grabbed the boy by the thighs and lifted him while Taehyun whined and laughed. The tasty echoing laugh that made your heart warm up and squeeze. “Oh Y/N, you’re like an animal in heat, all impatient.” He scoffed, and you just smiled broadly as he threw him onto the bed, crawled over him and opened his robe.

“When it comes to you yes. And don’t pretend to be any less perverted than I am.” You added, whole nibbling and teasing one of his nipples. Sure, you would love to kiss Taehyun now, but you were already breaking a rule and maybe it was better to not push your luck… You didn’t want or need to think about that right now.

At that moment, it was just sex between friends with benefits. And while you were not so good at playing that role, you were certainly good at fucking Taehyun and making him forget everything.

And that’s what you did.

im throwing up in a good way kind of. why is this so cringe. lord! um um yeah um yeah mhm, i think yep sorry for how cringey this was.

[lappel-du-vide83]

Also getting back to the manhwas train I finally read debut or die which was?? Not at all like I was expecting?? But anyways, here are just my reactions (often kinda random) but I hope you read through and can figure out what's going on while finding it funny!

Also don't ask me which chapter it starts at because brother in arms I don't know either

EUGENE IS SO FUNNY

[VTIC Cheongryeo sunbae-nim: Call me if you feel like dying ^^]

- LMFAOOOO what

didn’t know where this dogsh*t idea came from. Does his pituitary produce saliva instead of hormones? It was fortunate that he was the type to be impressed by trivial interpersonal relationships.

- woah what went straight for the jugular

I never thought that the situation where I cried for the first time in nearly 7 years would be live in front of a camera with 13,000 people.

- AND AIN'T AFRAID TO CRY

- OR TREAT HIS MAMA RIGHT

“You didn’t have a trashy attitude back then, Moondae. You just worked hard even though you were sick. Chungwoo hyung was worried too.”

- Oml

[We have to lose!]

- Bless cha Eugene's heart

-- HE'S SAYING IT IN ENG

Hey, that’s scary. I’m scared.’

- Behold the intelligence of mcs

The company’s internal network structure is derived from T1.’

- HOLY SHIT THIS GUY'S DEDUCTING SKILLS IS CRAZY

- Have you considered a career in

- Forensic?

He also gave very American advice.

- LMFAO

I cheered as I reviewed the ten-day seclusion plan.

- FR

- secluded for 10 days sounds like the DREAM

‘I am so f*cking uncomfortable with it, you bastard.’

- Leave the poor man alone 😭

-- Is this..?

-- THE KIDNAPPING???

(- WHAT

Why don’t you try to commit suicide?”

- CRAZY BASTARD

-- He is now the kidnapper

--- Kidnappee turn kidnapper

Because I beat the sh*t out of him.”

- Amen

It’s okay. I won.”

- HELL YEAH YOU DID

The fact that I was injured enough to go to the hospital was funnier.

- WHAT STOP

- HE COLLAPSED

- WTF

- PLS REST

--

HE'S ACTUALLY SO MANIPULATIVE

-- USING THE SKILL

-- SUBTLY CHANGING THEIR THOUGHTS IT'S CRAZY

---

DO YOU REALLY WANNA WORK THAT HARD

Arent you drinking too much

- ONG was not expecting this to actually be a problem

You look tired these days!”

- OMG HE _IS_ AN UNRELIABLE NARRATOR

--

Oh no he got a SURPRISE BDAY PARTY

-- Woah so his actual one is 8 dec??

-- That's awfully close

---

WATCHING RED PANDAS IN THE CORNER OF HIS ROOM

--- SAUR CUTE

----

HIS GRANDMA IS AN OPP

---- I'M SORRY IT'S REALLY MEAN BUT GET IT TOGETHER GIRL

---- OMG CHA YUJIN INSISTING THAT HE STAY

---- URGHHH MY HEART

Self criticism should be done during spare time not when it's a nuisance

- I respect this man so much

like a brainless idiot

- STOP

- YOU ARE SMART

- AND AMAZING

- YOU JUST GIVE 200% AT THE WRONG TIMES

--

AW OMG HE CARES SO MUCH

-- BLESS RAEBIN

-- EVERYONE ACTUALLY

-- THEY ARE THERE FOR EACH OTHER SO MUCH

- - -

Woah wait so they're aiming for a Moondae is the the same person as bae sejin feel??

--- I am INVESTED in the mv lore

It doesn't matter if it was worse this time

- NO

- IT'S ALREADY SO BAD

- THE RECOIL SHOULD NOT GET WORSE

- THAT'S RIGHT SLEEP MORE

- JUST BECAUSE YOU HAVE BACCHUAS DOESN MEAN YOU DONT NEED SLEEO

--

OH NO

-- THE ACCIDENT

-- STOP

-- ARGHHH

-- WILL YOU REST PLEASE

-- OH THANK FUCK

---

WAIT

--- NO

--- NONONONO

--- STOP

--- NOT ALLT HE WAY BACK

--- Daydream??

( how desparate he is)

- OH MY FUCKING GOD

- SHOULD I JUMP OFFF

- NO

- OMG

- NO

--

OMG THIS REALISATION is Tearing me APART

rapid prayers in spanish

- the angst here is killing me

--

THANK GOD FOR NECTAR

-- 18 DAY COMA

OMFG

-- CHA YUJIN IS SAUR CUTE

-- BRIBED HIM WITH TANGEIRNES

-- HE'S SORRY

-- HE IS FORGIVEN

-- CHA YUJIN KEEPING QUIET ABOUT VTIC

-- AND BLACKMAILING MOONDAE

-- SO ADORABLE

---

FUNDRAISING

--- He's actually so sweet

--- PLS EVERYONE WAS CRYING

"do you think I'm some kind of sociopath"

- SEJIN NO

- THEYRE FRIENDS <333

- PLEASE I NEED THEM TO BE HAPPY

--

So the system is actively trying to help him??

---

TSRANDED ARC!!

--- Lights out :0

--- SAVE THE CHICKENS

--- The secret door is so ominous

--- Horror arc

--- OMG MOONDAE GOING wtf do I do??

--- SO REALL

--- WAS SO SCARED FOR A SECOND

----

THE MEETING

---- OMG

---- OMG

---- OMG

---- OMG

---- AHHHHHH

---- DID HE RUN AWAY???

---- I'M SO CONFUSED

---- BUT RGW IN THIS CONTEXT IS SO SWEET

HE TRIED TO COMMIT DEATH

- WHAT

- WHAT THE FUCK

- HUH

- IT ENDED LIKE THAT????

- No more abnormalities???

- WHAT

--

:OO A CONVO WITH OG PMD

Ah the need to be in control of every situation

- So valid

AND THEN MY TEXTS JUST END THERE SO...

anyways hope you had a laugh

And I really hope this fandom gets so much bigger than it is now :)

[obsidianstrawberrymilk]

Mmk so 119 goes crazyyy spoilers below!!

Damn bro got the grippers OUT also canoninical "anywho" sayer

This was just heartbreaking tbh. Bro's having the evil little time of his life psychologically tormenting Atsushi. He BLAMES HIM even WORSE for their deaths I can't-

This explanation for how Amenogozen works is so damn cool? I'm gonna have to do more research into a Minkowski Space to actually understand what this means fully I think because I'm not smart enough for this but holy shiiit I love this. It makes a lot of sense. Asagiri's flavor of neurodivergency is the same as mine.

These are both just... absolutely heartbreaking. The Agency are his family. His home. They took him in and protected him. And he's just been told it's HIS fault Kunikida (his mentor and guiding light), Junichiro and Kenji (his friends) are dead... and as SOON as Fyodor gives him the opportunity to give them back he takes it. No concern for his own wellbeing at all. Wtf.

AKUTAGAWA!! He's slaying SO hard in his fit and we DID get an explanation (it's his Demon Armor with Rashoumon!!) Also he's pretty much the strongest character in the series now considering his space-manipulation is enough to fight a being literally called just a shadow of something beyond human comprehension like!! Holy shit!! SSKK are about to become the strongest characters in the whole manga huh...

BAM BAM BAAAM!! So many theories here: originally I thought my 'alternate universe Akutagawa' theory was right, but now I'm thinking it may have something to with how bro was full on dead before he was vampirified. Maybe the fact he died meant that even when Bram gave him back his body there wasn't enough of him to remain? Even the way he speaks is different... so he remembers how to fight and the promise he made to Bram but not Atsushi or (maybe) the PM (including his own sister)?? I'm so curious what he remembers...

Anyway SSKK SINGULARITY NOVEMBER LETS GOOOO!!!

[takeariskao3]

I’ll give you an example…. I read this Reddit post about a gf who convinced her bf females shed skin during their periods (she was wearing a face mask at the time), and got her bf’s sister/mother/female friends in on the joke. They all went along with it or months and the poor guy thought it was true until he brought it up during dinner and his Dad was like WTF?! Who told you that??? Lmao. I could see Ginny pulling something like that and the little old gullible Harry completely falling for it.

Something along those lines…

P.S. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BEAUTIFUL!!! 🥳🎂🎊

okay this is shamelessly inspired by an old onion article lmaoo

There was a rock in Ginny's shower.

Not like a pebble, or a piece of gravel or something that would be equally confusing, but maybe easier to explain. This was a solid three inch by three inch, light gray, porous, circular rock in the corner of the bath.

Harry had eyed the thing curiously over the span of several weeks. It moved every so often, which made him think it was either sentient or useful in someway. It was also always a little bit damp, sometimes even sudsy, which made him think Ginny used it during her washing routine. This had him testing the hypothesis on himself, but scrubbing the rock down his forearm didn't result in any extra cleansing, it just fucking hurt. So, he ruled that one out.

Then he wondered if it didn't have some magical purpose, like a wizard shortcut, but he asked Ron, and his best mate didn't have a clue. Which brought Harry back to square one.

For about two months, the mystery of the stone in Ginny's shower remained just that. A mystery. Until one night, after joining her in the bath post spectacular sex, he finally worked up the nerve to ask.

Grabbing the rock from the shelf, he held it up between them. "What is this thing?"

Ginny frowned at him and blinked several times in confusion.

"Is it alive? Does it do anything? What do you use it for?"

Ginny sucked her lips between her teeth to bite back a smile. "What do you think I use it for?"

"I don't know!" Harry replied dramatically. "I thought maybe it was for the soaps and things, but its too rough to use as a sponge. But it moves around, so obviously you use it. Either that or it's taken up residence in your shower and you have a pet rock you've never told me about, which fine, whatever, but it can't just be here for no reason..."

Ginny nodded along, her grin growing harder and harder to hide.

"What?" Harry asked. "Is it something obvious and I'm being a muppet?"

"No," she interjected and her face contorted into something like sympathy.

"Well, then what?" He turned it end over end in his hands to examine it. "Because I can't figure it out. Does it absorb bad smells? Does it clean when we aren't looking? Does it ward off evil spirits?"

Snorting, Ginny plucked it from his grasp and stared up at him with wide eyes. "I'll tell you, alright, but you can't laugh."

"Why would I laugh?"

"It's sort of..." she hesitated, "superstition."

Harry pinched his brows together. "Like a normal superstition or a Luna superstition?"

She winced. "Luna superstition."

Smoothing his grimace, he listened to her explanation with steadily increasing wonder...

------------------------------------------

3 years later

"It's just getting worse," Hermione complained from her spot on the sofa. "I don't think I can keep going on like this. It's completely demoralizing."

"It's just a slump," Ginny answered. "It's not like you've had a ton of great options to begin with."

"Yes, that is the demoralizing part."

Harry backed away from the conversation slowly, unsure of how to engage with the subject matter of one of their best friend's, frankly miserable, dating life. Hermione had always been so sure of herself, and so independent, he hadn't ever considered that she truly wanted to date someone for real. After her and Ron had broken up, she seemed put off by the whole undertaking.

Which, fair. Harry had abhorred dating. So, he could relate.

Sometime recently, though, she must have decided to put herself out there. Only it seemed she wasn't impressed or particularly taken with any of her choices.

A spark of an idea curled through the back of his mind, and he turned toward the stairs to mount the steps two at a time. Charging into his and Ginny's bathroom, he found what he was looking for in moments. He supposed they could loan it out, at least until Hermione could get one of her own.

It wasn't like he and Ginny exactly needed it anymore.

Returning to the sitting room, Harry marched past the armchair and presented his gift with assured conviction.

Hermione stopped talking abruptly and looked at the stone in Harry's hand in unmitigated confusion. Meanwhile, Ginny made a choking noise and clapped a hand over her mouth.

"Take it," Harry urged, but she still looked utterly bewildered. "It's-- well, it's not exactly incontestable, but it seemed to work for us. Maybe... you could give it a go?"

Hermione's expression didn't change, but she accepted Harry's gift anyway.

"A pumice stone?" she asked, looking to Ginny for clarification. Ginny, for her part, seemed unable to speak; her shoulders shaking and her cheeks as red as a tomato.

Harry took over the responsibility of explaining. "If you keep it damp and keep it close to where you... you know-- it'll bring you luck and... you know... the other things, too."

"Sorry, I'm not quite understanding." Hermione blinked several times very quickly. "You think a pumice stone brings you sex luck?"

"Yeah," Harry swallowed down his discomfort and shifted his gaze to Ginny in a plea for help. Only she was full on convulsing now, her entire upper body shaking with...

Laughter.

His realization must have showed on his face because Ginny lost all semblance of control and dissolved into a fit of giggles.

"Oh, christ--" he swore loudly. "I can't believe this. What does it actually do?"

"It's for your feet!" Hermione cried, her own grin stretching across her face.

"Your what?" Harry replied, his horror growing with each second.

"Your feet!" Hermione said again, then she threw the rock at Ginny's middle. Ginny caught it and, if possible, laughed even harder.

"FEET?" Harry roared. "What does that do for your feet!?"

Ginny sucked in a gasping breath and cackled, "You scrub the callouses, you absolute moron!"

He threw his hands into the air in embarrassment and frustration. "Oh for fuck's sake, what else have you tricked me into?"

"No!" Ginny bellowed through tears of laughter. "Nothing, I swear!"

"I got one of those for Ron last Christmas!"

"You what!?" Ginny and Hermione shrieked at the same time.

"He and Padma had just--" Harry clenched his teeth, grinding his molars in mortification. "This is unbelievable. "

"Oh, Harry," Ginny keened. "I'm sorry, okay? But think of it this way, we didn't actually need luck at all!"

Shaking his head, he grumbled a few choice words under his breath and turned his back on the uncontrollable giggles still echoing from the couch.

[mydnite-moonrabbit]

skmdaldmd okokok SO

y'know the girl in the gif i sent you? yeah that's mizuki akiyama and she's transfem and in a recent update to her game(specifically a new event story--commonly dubbed mizu5 since it's her 5th focus event. also side note the entire fandom and even some people OUTSIDE of the fandom have been losing their shit since they first caught wind of this) she just got outed by her bullies (in the most transphobic way possible) to her friend who she'd been slowly working up the courage to tell for ages. said friend(who is named ena shinonome) took a while to figure out what the bullies meant but wasn't being unaccepting but mizuki overheard this wholw situation and read ena's expression as disgust and ran off before ena could explain

and to make matters worse mizuki's straight up just not appearing in the world anymore and she's lost ALL the sparkle in her eyes. also like multiple of the things she's done(don't think i've mentioned them here) could be considered metaphors for suicide so that's fun

tl;dr: pink girl in the gif got forcibly outed to her friend and is not ok for the forseeable future and everybody everywhere is losing their shit over this

wtf game devs?

[shall-we-go-far-away]

alright, I know, I'm late to the party because it's been literal days but here are we are ready to talk about ep. 7+8:

do you all know that football meme, that "they had us in the first half"-meme? that's how I felt after the first 17 minutes of ep. 7... my lord I was so sure jihyun was fine and then they pull this shit on us I was genuinely scared.. so thanks to jaewon for putting me out of my misery by saying he just almost died

I was actually kind of shocked that something genuinely serious happened, because I thought it would be enough for jaewon to back away from jihyun if there was just the tiniest possibility of him getting hurt but I guess we went the drastic way, anyways I'm really glad he's alive

also seeing what the accident did to jaewon was so painful to watch.. he looked so bad and to see how his "friends" just glossed it over and being like: "oh I'm glad you're back to your regular self" like wtf are you saying, do you see him?? he was barely present the entire time, literally just a shadow of himself

we literally only saw his impression change twice - both times involving jihyun - once, when he's about to punch taehyung and the second time when jihyun speaks about his behavior in the surf club

what I also liked was how hard jaewon tries to get jihyun away from him but when they properly meet again in front of the classroom he can't even say no to jihyun asking to talk

well, back to the seniors.. they - emphasis on eunji and taehyung - are still assholes like wow you really don't even have the slightest bit of empathy left in you, have you? I found it pretty crazy how well you could tell in these episodes that neither eunji nor taehyung actually care for jaewon like at all, it feels like they see him as a trophy to carry around and show off and boost their egos with

that being said, I'm so glad taehyung got punched and eunji got absolutely devoured by jihyun, serves them right

taehyung is just so insensitive and childish, he makes me go insane, what was he expecting when he said that about jihyun? that people would clap?? no you idiot, be glad jaewon didn't break a bone or two

and eunji?? is she not embarrassed? her entire behavior is so embarrassing oh my god.. I know she can tell that jaewon doesn't want to be with her because she's not stupid, she just doesn't want to accept it, she can't accept being rejected and left and - what's even worse for her - she can't accept being left by jaewon for another man and I get it, it kinda sucks but you gotta face reality at some point, babes

and considering all that, it's so funny to watch how jihyun gets her blood boiling by simply existing, like she hates him so much and it's so amusing because jihyun couldn't care less, he just doesn't care

so the whole scene of them in the park was so satisfying to watch because with how the characters are positioned - eunji standing and jihyun sitting - and with the camera angle - looking up to eunji and down on jihyun- it's supposed to seem like she is above jihyun and then he just complety verbally destroys her because she already came into the conversation insecure, trying to cover it up by provoking jihyun but just didn't work

I genuinely believed in her redemption arc but at this point I don't think that's happening anymore

alrighty, next up, how sassy did jihyun get after literally almost drowning?? I really liked how he was joking around with his friends talking back to them and all that

and seeing his determination to get jaewon back was great, like he's better than me because I could never, he has a goal and he wants to achieve it

the thing that also stuck with me was him saying "I want to heal his wounds." which we all know he said with good intentions but I think jihyun also has to learn that the only person able to heal jaewon's wounds is jaewon himself, yes he can be there for him and be his support system but jaewon has to want this himself

I also really liked that we saw more of joon pyo in these episodes and he could redeem his "annoying childhood best friend"-image.. he's just a really sweet guy who, yes, is a bit much and a little awkward at times, but he has a good heart and really cares for jihyun

now onto the last bits of ep. 8: that hurt, it really hurt.. I get why jaewon pushed him away, I really do but that was not it, bestie.. I wanted to give jihyun a hug so bad

but honestly even though that was quite painful and I think jihyun might be a little thrown off, I think he's gonna keep pushing.. he was so sure about getting his man back I don't think he's stopping now

what I'm saying is, I hope they get back together and we get a happy ending on wednesday because otherwise.. well idk what I'd do otherwise

[alexologyart]

Some thoughts about the migration

Seriously thinking in just nuking my Twitter account or just stopping using it  after what has been happening, there are a number of reasons I just prefer to get out of there, this includes:

Of the 3k people following me on twitter, only 20 or just 10 (sometimes lower) interacts with my tweets.

I’ve had very nasty interactions with people there.

There has been absolutely no replies nor responses other than already my twitter circle and friends. I seriously considered I am just bad at art, and I know is not the case.

I can not promote: patreon, kofi, commissions, without bots and scammers getting in my DM or replies, is just exhahusting to have to censor the words every time.

Follow x Follow doesn’t even work in the art community without several scammers getting into line, and in the end, just 5% of those “artists” support each other. If you unfollow anyone because you want to clean your timeline, they will just stop supporting you.

Is difficult to me to manage SEVERAL accounts, I have Instagram, facebook (already thinking in nuking these two as well), Tumblr, DA, ArtStation, Mastodon, Kofi, Patreon, Artfold, Inkblot, Cara... did I miss something else?

The algorithm absolutely fucked me over, if you are not blue, you are basically invisible, pushed lower in the timeline and feed of your own followers. I have had to rt my own art several times for people to get to see it, sometimes I think I am shadowbanned because I just tweet something and I don’t see it in my OWN timeline

Everyone is migrating, absolutely everyone, I noticed artists tweeting less and less, some fortunate professional artists got bsky accounts now and are getting good number there while other minor artists are still in the waitlist.

Now, I’m trying not to be pessimist, but right now it feels like using the birdapp is just useless. I’m just retweeting art from other people because tweeting my own art feels like nothing, and I like to support people, I really do because they are amazing, but feeling invisible due to the algorithm + passive shadowban is just depressing.

As I mentioned above, I’m in other places, Mastodon is one of them, and I KNOW people feels intimidated by it + doesn’t understand wtf is all about, thinks is some tech savvy thing or worse, thinks is full of nazis or extremists when it all depends on the Instance you choose (and most mayor instances have blocked radicalized/extremists ones), but you just have to sign up to ONE instance focused in art (socel.net is mine focused in art and animation, mastodon.art is the one artists are using the most) and you have access to the whole Fediverse, and Mastodon has several other apps you can access to, I recommend Megalodon in the Playstore. Is that simple.

Now, if you want to follow me in a place other than Twitter and Tumblr, just check my carrd account HERE

[beecreeper]

Well I gotta do some asks for my favorite color! For the Baldur's Gate crew

🌻

🍯

🐝

🌞

🍋

✨

Damn this took me literally all day to write wtf

✨ and 🍯 answered here. The rest under the cut!

🌻 (sunflower) - What’s something your character has grown out of? Did it happen gradually or was it a drastic change? What caused this shift?

Briar -- Attempting to care about people/form relationships. She *did* try to, especially when she was in her druid circle. But it never really worked. There always felt like there was something separating her from other people. She burned that bridge all at once when she murdered her circle and embraced Bhaal.

Ferox -- Honestly used to be a more chaotic when he was a kid with his goblin family. Was more enthusiastic about pulling the kind of goblin shenanigans with his siblings that you can imagine goblin kids get up to. But at he got old, his urge started to manifest more strongly, raising the stakes and consequences. It gets a lot less fun to play "let's see who can hit each other with a stick the hardest" when you black out and accidentally beat one of them to a pulp, you know? He also started to feel worse about how goblin society worked in general and how violent it all was. By the time he reached like 15 or 16 he was in full brooding "I don't want to be like this anymore..." mode.

Molli -- Molli hasn't grown out of SHIT. She got captured in her early twenties and is free for the first time in like seven or eight years. In many ways she behaves like a college student moving out of their parents house for the first time. She's also always been the kind of person who enjoyed childish things well into her adulthood. And honestly! Good for her! Be a immature and silly forever Molli you fucking deserve it.

🐝 (bumblebee) - What are some reasons someone would dislike or not get along with your oc? Are these negative traits something your oc is aware of?

Briar -- stinky, evil, a complete crazy bitch. She is aware but doesn't care. If you don't like her that's a you problem.

Ferox -- too stoic and in his own head, stewing in his guilt too much, kinda a stick in the mud. These aren't the parts of himself that he feels bad about though he's mostly dwelling on, you know, the uncontrollable bloodlust.

Molli -- annoying, naive, weak, incompetent, worried about everything including all these negative qualities and like a bunch more she made up

☀️ (sun) - What’s your character like at their best?

Briar -- well.... I mean from *her* perspective her best was her peak cult days. Fully confident, powerful, no worries about anything, doing anything she wants, on her way to ruling the world and having a great fucking time with it. But I don't know of there's a version of her that any sane person would call "good". Like. Her "best" ending is secluding herself in the woods and only killing people if they accidentally find into her rather than her actively seeking them out.

Ferox -- At his best he's hard working and dedicated and extremely competent at what he does. Helpful and feeling good about himself for doing something positive. Secure in himself and *not* considering himself an uncomfortable irredeemable monster (he'll get there eventually)

Molli -- Cheerful ray of sunshine type shit, playing her concertina for people, wanting to experience new things and not worrying about whether she's good enough.

🍋 (lemon) - What’s something your character never got over, if anything? Why did it affect them so much and is there any chance of them ever healing from it?

Briar -- Depends on how you define "got over". If you asked Briar, she would say that nothing from her past affects her at all and she never thinks about it ever. But like. Obviously it affects her. Her foster parents were super creeped out by her and totally emotionally distant and the only kinda friend she had she drowned on impulse. Really set a precedent that she cannot and will not be able to connect to people and it informs a LOT of her behavior.

On a related note she never got over realizing she DOES care for Gortash but she only had like a week at most to deal with that before her brain was scrambled lol. Problem solved!

Ferox -- MYRALA MYRALA MYRALA It manages to even haunt him post-tadpole because the oathbreaker knight is still at camping reminding him that he did SOMETHING to break his oath but won't tell him what and he reasonably assumes it has something to do with that urge for slaughter he feels in his blood. Honestly I think the only reason he's gonna be able to heal at all is because he can't remember it specifically anymore. But it still hurts and he's got all the *other* Bhaalspawn baggage to work through as well.

Molli -- I mean. Being a slave to a guy who would beat her for fun. And her good and bad endings are differentiated by how well she deals with it. On one hand, she falls into a fawn response codependent pattern and locks herself into more abuse. On the other hand, she finds joy in freedom and strength in her friends and herself. And also kills her old abuser that probably helps.

[doritoplayz-xi]

Hey random thoughts time because yeah

One: I’ve been sick over the past year. Basically since January. I get better then worse. My absences have skyrocketed to 200+ but I don’t know what the fuck is happening. Rn the symptoms are bad coughs at week and drowsiness and inability to stand without stumbling. Wtf

Two: I don’t like the body positivity movement ***in reference to myself*** I don’t like when people will use the your body is perfect the way it is because it feels like their ignoring my gender dysphoria. The whole thing seems like they want to slap on all bodies are beautiful without considering that some bodies may require work to be made beautiful.

Three: despite starting and staying (mostly) on Zoloft my mental health seems to have taken a dive. Now instead of acknowledging the bad thoughts it’s like the badness associated with them is squashed before I can process it. It’s okay in the sense that now I can dryly joke about depression and quickly follow it up with “I have a therapist and am on meds don’t tell the counselor” whenever a teacher or student gets pissy. But I still made a maybe but maybe not shit choice to cut off a majority of my friend because maybe Zoloft helped me see that I was doing the same ignore the bad thing I do with my thoughts?

Four: what the fuck is the deal with Europeans and their superiority complex over Americans? Plus the “banter” they use often becomes harmful stereotypes and crying “no culture” some one better equipped could talk about all the different American cultures but I’ll talk about my “American” culture experience. American culture to me is going to school and meeting up with half a dozen different people. To me it’s heading to the library and supermarket to hang out with friends. To me it’s Fourth of July fireworks (legal or not) and going up into the mountains for summer camp. It’s the crappy school system and the friends I make in it. It’s learning about other states odd things that I could never imagine doing myself. It’s hearing my transplant mom talk about how my state is different from her childhood one. It’s living life while surrounded by other cultures because at the end of the day americas a melting pot of cultures that we make our own soup of. It’s become stupidly patriotic as a in joke online when insults are lobbed. Also fuck the Brit’s 🦅🦅 🦅🦅🦅🦅/hj

[analtbeast]

For reference this is what I'm talking about: X

Wow Birdsong continues to get worse and worse huh? I got the feeling that Talk was an aggressive asshole from the original callout so I'm not surprised that they wouldn't give a shit about racism. (Being "ignorant" and not experiencing much racism yourself doesn't mean it's ok to ignore racism ffs. Especially antisemitism like wtf???)

But Birdsong continues to lie out of their ass. Oh you were feeling disgusted with yourself for drawing rape and incest and other illegal art? GOOD. But I don't think that's true. You literally were joking about an adult uncle raping his minor nephew days before getting rid of Toffee. I don't know what's worse, you "pretending" to be into it while being too much of a coward to stand up for what's right, or you being into it and now lying to everyone now about being better. At least Toffee has the decency to be open about their illegal ships.

Toffee may be a proshipper but even I feel bad for them here. Imagine being lied to about your friend being open and honest to you just to find out that they were lying this whole time because "boo hoo i was scared you might commit suicide". Excuse me??? I've had friends who were off and on again suicidal but I'd never just hide shit from them because of it, much less blame them for me hiding shit?? That's on you Birdsong for being a slimy, pathological liar.

And it's nice to have solid proof of this group being antisemitic. Like they were obviously stalkers. Deplatform proshippers all you want but going after a minor and every single friend they have? That's fucked. If you go around attacking the same person for years you have a problem. Birdsong should have known that. But now we even have screens from Talk themselves that these people were bigots. And Birdsong knew about this?? And it took TWO times of them being bigots to leave the nazis? Wtf is wrong with you?

Keep Birdsong away from minors, keep them away from any POC especially Jewish people and keep them away from autistic people too considering the shit their sister said and how they see autism as an "excuse" rather than something they dismissed and demonized someone for.

Birdsong lured a vulnerable, mentally unstable person in with kindness and then stabbed them in the back by working with their abusers. They used someone almost 10 years younger than them for their weird fetishes and as free labor and then tossed them aside. And then falsely accused them of horrible things and called them out on them for things they both drew, pretending to be a good person and a victim. Anyone who is their friend is at risk of being another victim. Anyone who gets close to them is likely to be lied to and cast aside for their own goals or for their partner. Honestly I even think Talk should get away from them since they clearly lied about their art and about Toffee. Talk seems genuinely remorseful now that they know the truth, and the fact that they don't care that Birdsong hid the full story from them is alarming. The weird attachment these two have where they excuse each other's horrible actions but also are okay with hiding so many things from each other is disturbing.

Of course, they were never going to come clean about this if their victim didn't speak up. Sure they're all "I'm so sorry I'm just the worst" now that they've been caught. You ruined someone's life and you didn't care until it affected you? How horrible can you get? And even after being so so sorry, they didn't say anything on their blog about it. Only remorseful enough to talk in private so you can silence your victim while never having to take a blow to your reputation? You snake. They were too nice to you and yet they feel bad for being "blunt". They were just telling the truth and you couldn't take the heat. How does it feel to be accused of awful things Birdsong? Except they have proof and your own admission to support them, you had nothing but lies to support you.

I'm disgusted that they still get over 100 notes on their comic pages. That's over a 100 people that are supporting a liar, freak, and a bigot apologist. How many people support them financially? How many close friends do they have? How can anyone look at their blatant lies and betrayal and think "hmmm I want to continue supporting this person"? I really hope that people just don't know. Because this is just another thing making me lose faith in people among many MANY other things.

[webslingingslasher]

i’ve got several bosses fired because i love to just call up hr

i am a tattle tale when it comes to hr and bosses

i even called VS hr after i had left because i heard 2 of my grown ass managers giggling about me and talking about while i was in the store i was 18 and they were in their 30s

the hr people at corporate were like “ew wtf that’s weird” they were reprimanded and one was let go bc she had been reprimanded too many times

i got my boss at francesca’s fired and i got a manager at completely different store reprimanded because he yelled at me and threaten to get me fired bc i tried to use my employee discount

however there is no hr here but we work for the city so i could go a lot worse considering her husbands federal lawsuit

and i got the people at my kohls in trouble because they didn’t hire and that would’ve been fine had they not spoken about why where people could hear it. my late sister worked there and they didn’t like her because she didn’t take bullshit. so they didn’t hire me bc they didn’t like my dead sister and my best friend heard them talking about it bc she worked there so

a lot of bosses have never been put in their place and i love to just talk to hr and always let them know what’s going on. it’s fun.

FACTS. you will not walk all over me, no ma'am. i personally love shitting in the faces of big bosses. they're always so shocked.

((fr FUCK kohls on that last one, holy shit.))