#you'll never take that away from me

[gildedmuse]

hey new moot :) may I request some shuggy hcs? I am unhealthily obsessed w them. could be fluffy or angsty or spicy or anything in between <3333

Hi everyone, this is @kilucore one of my new best friends. They've only really seen OPLA but already loves Buggy. Now I just have to brainwash them into believing his full name is Buggy D Clown and he's the true King Of The Pirates.

This isn't what they asked for but it's what my mind gave me. Later, I'll do a Buggy/Shanks AU. It will involve Shanks in a poly relationship and Buggy being a jealous bitch.

I love thes idiots.

The Captain Gets The Hat

"I used to know a pirate who wore a hat just like this... We served together on a pirate crew when we we're about your age.... "

"Until he betrayed me."

—💙—

"But why not go to the South Blue? There's tons of treasure there!"

"But we're already here! And who knows, since there are so little pirates here in the East Blue, there could be all sorts of treasure that no one has found yet! "

"But it's boring! Even Roger said it was-"

"Don't say his name!"

A while ago, before the crew broke up, before they all just abandoned them, Rayleigh had gotten Buggy a new pair of shoes. They were big and red and Biggy hates them, but Rayleigh said he should wear them anyway. "They're harder to slip in. Safer."

Right now, Buggy doesn't want to be safe. He wants to be pissed off.

Still even as he storms across the wooden pier, the shows made almost no sound at all. It didn't matter how much weight he throw into each step or how hard he brought his foot down. His storming away sounded more like a gentle breeze.

The worst part is he could feel Shanks watching the whole time.

"Hey." At least the shoes don't stop Buggy from being able to swat Shanks's hand away when the other boy tries setting it on his shoulder. "Come on, don't be like that. Why do you want to stay in the East anyway? "

"Because-" Buggy stops, even as he turns to glare at Shanks. The boy has such a bright infectious smile, he makes you feel like everything would be alright.

Only it wouldn't, would it? Not even Shanks's smile could bring back Roger, bring back their FAMILY. Even old Crocus is gone and the last place any of them knew that any of the others would be is in the East. Is in Lougetown.

Is standing below the tower where they-

"Because the East is easy pickings!" Buggy argues, motioning around to all the sailors, the shoppers, the passing Marines not paying them an ounce of attention. "We can do whatever we want and no one can stop us!" And if the others do come looking, they'll be here. Waiting.

Shanks puts on his "serious" face for a moment, though truth be told it's not very serious. "Hmmm... Well, I'm the captain and I say we're going North!" He declares with a huge, cocky grin. The kind that looks like their da-

Like Ro-

Like a pirate.

"You just said So-" Buggy starts to correct before Shanks's words really start to creepy in. His eyes go wide. He did not just say that! No way! "What make you think YOU'RE the captain!?"

Shanks can't be captain! There is only one captain! You can't have two captains and they all know-

They all....

He can't be captain!

"I have the hat!" Shanks declairs in his same light hearted tone, patting the Strawhat Roger had given him WAY before Shanks had been old enough to be captain. He's only 14 now! He barely even has facial hair (Buggy knows, him and Shanks have been comparing for years now waiting to see whose would grow in first) ! "That makes me that captain!"

"That's not true!" Buggy argues, swinging to grab for the stupid Strawhat. Shanks just laughs, taking a wide step back. That is unfair! Buggy hasn't had time to his his growth spurt yet. "Give it here! I deserve to be captain!"

Shanks sticks out his tongue. "Hey, maybe if you're really nice I'll make you my first mate!"

Buggy's face went as red as his nose. He isn't first mate!

Roger is the captain! Rayleigh is first mate! Shanks and him are just- are just-

"Give it here!" Buggy demands, jumping for the raggy hat again.

"That's a very rude way for a first mate to act."

"I said give it here!"

"Maybe I should demote you to cabin boy."

"Grr, I wouldn't be your boy if yours was the last ship in the se-"

SPLASH!!

Buggy tries to draw in a deep breath but the water is already sucking him down. Ocean fills his lungs, weighing him down even more. Trying to push the water aside is like trying to swim through concrete. He can still see the sun twinkling above, reflecting the blue of the water all around him but it's fading. Everything is getting darker.

Is this how Roger felt? No! No not Roger! He must have been brave! He wouldn't be scared or drowning or poleaxes or death. Roger isn't afraid of anything.

Bubbles float out from his mouth, the last of his air leaving his lungs. They pop silently before even hitting the surface, but Buggy heard them in the ocean all around him.

Shanks don't be a captain. Don't be like Roger.

Don't leave me.

The next thing he knows, Buggy can feel the splinters digging into his back, through the worn out shirt he'd owned too many years. The one that didn't fit Nantoto anymore and had been passed along, first to Shanks than to Buggy.

Two worried brown eyes stare down at him, with Shanks's hair a dark, wet red, sticking to his pink cheeks.

Buggy coughs water upon him. "Ehh!" Shanks laughs it all off, brushing it away. "Hey no spitting! And here I thought Raylogh gave you those shoes so you WOULDN'T end up in the sea!"

He can joke, about Buggy is still mad. "I hate these shoes!" He screams, ripping them off and chucking them in the sea. Without him in them they float. Just like everything, he is what is bringing them down. It's him. It's him that got sick, him that stopped Shanks seeing Laughtail. "I hate this fruit! I hate this stupid, stupid sea and it's stupid Marines!" Him that ate the fruit that could have maybe been the fruit Crocus always talked about, the one that could save Rogers' life. Its his fault they're all gone! No wonder no one of the crew came to see them!

He pushes himself up swiping at Shanks's leg as he does so.. the boy trips slightly but keeps from falling into the water.

"Hey, wait!" Shanks scurries to his feet as Buggy starts to march off. "Where are you going? The ship is that way? Wow, you must be really water logged after-"

"YOUR ship is that way!" Buggy snaps, not even turning around to look back at the other teenager. "I don't need you, you know! I can be my own captain!"

"Buggy...."

And maybe it is there is something in Shanks's voice that just reminds Biggy so much of Roger, of his old captain, he has to stop. And maybe it's just because it's Shanks. But in an instance Buggy found e couldn't move forward, not with out one last look back.

Shanks is taller than him. His hair is the same color as Buggy's nose, though he'd give you a black eye if you said so. His face is as bright as the sun and his heart as unpredictable as the sea. It makes Buggy's stomach hurt just looking at him.

And in that moment, Shanks wouldn't look at him either. His face was hidden, the shadow from the brim of his hat covering whatever he might be feeling. Buggy wishes he could hide away like that. His emotions feel as obvious as the nose on his face. His heart feels like it wants to escape his chest and run back to the sea.

Maybe to drown. Maybe to see if Shanks would jump in after it a second time.

"Do you know what this means?" Shanks asks, slowly lifting his chin, meeting Buggy's eyes. He feels so young compared to the other boy in the moment. He can see something in Shanks. A spark. A future. Something Buggy wants to steal but not to take it from Shanks.

Just so he can hold it, just so wherever that spark goes, Buggy will too.

"We'll be rivals!" Buggy shoots back, trying to muster his anger. "We'll both be captains and-"

Shanks shakes his head and Buggy finds himself choking on his own words. Its the boy's smile. "No," he says, taking a step closer before that smile blooms into something larger, something beautiful.

And before Buggy can react Shanks has thrown himself across the dock and right into Buggy's arms. Its so forceful Buggy nearly trips backwards right into the water but even without his special shoes, Shanks holds tight, and he stays on the dock.

"It means we're allies!" Shanks declairs, pulling back only to pat Buggy's shoulders. He is absolutely glowing. Like this is what he wants. Maybe this is what he'd been waiting for. "From now on, we're our own captains, but we're also allies! And whenever you need me I'll be there and when I need you, you'll be there! I'll cheer on all your greatest victories and you're revenge all my worst losses! Just like the best allies!"

And the way that spark shown in Shanks, Buggy couldn't help but smile back. "Yeah!" He agrees, taking Shanks'e hand in his own, sealing the pack. "We're going to be the greatest allies the seas have ever seen!"

"Like two captains but one crew!" Shanks promises. "I'll always be there fore you! No matter what!"

—💙—

The applause dims as Buggy sweeps back into the backroom of his ship. The smile he'd worn for the crowd immediately slips away. "Well," he demands, snapping at Cabaji before.... Well, ignoring Richie altogether. You could never tell with Richie.

"it was great boss!" Someone cheers and the rest are quick to join in, heaping on the praise. Buggy just keeps sauntering on the back of the ship. To their poster board, listing all their upcoming preformance. "The best anyone in this sad little town has ever seen that's for-"

"Yeah for US!" Buggy snaps, the sarcasm dripping from his lips even more than his make up. "BUT WAS HE HERE?!"

His hand slams down on the poster.

Shanks is older now. He has three scars, ones Buggy int see him get. He's taller but it's the same smile. Buggy would know that spark anywhere.

A silence falls over the preformers. No one wants to say it. They all remember what happened to Kiki.

"What is the POINT!?" Buggy screams, turning his ire on the freaks, these losers, this pathetic lot who couldn't get the attention of one stupid, childish man in a silly hat. "Of putting on the greatest show if it's not seen by the greatest PEOPLE!?"

"Well...." Lionel suggests gently after a ong pause where Buggy looks at each of them , eyebrow raised. Huh? Well... Come on. Is there a single. Solidarity idea in those stupid heads of yours!? "You know, maybe he just hasn't been to the East bl---" The knife to his throat cuts off whatever he had been trying to say.

"Are you saying I can't get his ATTENTION!? That somehow, because I STAYED WHERE WE WERE SUPPOSE TO, WHERE ROGER LEFT US THAT I-"

Buggy pauses, looking out the porthole of the ship. Waling back into town where happy families, kids with Cotten candies, stuffed dolls held under couple arms. Such a perfect, happy little picture. Like a spark of sunshine.

"Don't just stand there," Buggy snaps without turning around. " Help your fellow freak. This is why I can't have SAG members on this crew, I swear, " Buggy jokes as a few of the underlings rush forward putting pressure to Lionel's wounds.

All while Buggy watches a happy little family heading back. The dad with his daughter in the shoulder. The other holding her stuffed toy, ruffling the girls hair. Such a happy little couple. Such a happy family.

"I think...." buggy says, tearing the wanted poster from their billboard, letting it crumble in his fist. "You're right. If we want attention we need to go... Bigger."

His laugh fills the boat, and then the ship, and even as the canons start to ring out and the buildings collapse you can still here him. Laughing.

You want to be allies, Shanks? Why not come see his latest victory with your own eyes. He promises. It will be bigger and badder than even you can ignore.

[lelelego]

I....would like to see Eli and Boone.... holding hands........😳

ok :^)

[vanpalmr]

YELLOWJACKETS APPRECIATION WEEK 2023 day three: favorite dynamic ➣ SHAUNA x GHOST JACKIE

[burningcheese-merchant]

i luved ur burning cheese fic on ao3 especially bc no one posts ab them..im somewhat inspired to post my own burning cheese content

Which one? I've written a bunch of them haha. Whichever one it is, thank you! It always makes my day when people come tell me they enjoy my work ❤️

And I understand your pain... Not enough BurningCheese content of any kind, at least on the Western side. Asian side of the fandom is filled to bursting with fanart and stuff. I think the problem is that most people on our side of the fence are terrified to ship it publicly because there's a risk of harassment and ostracization from the others, because boo hoo toxic boo hoo abuser x abused (and then they'll turn around and ship Hollyt4ya and ShadowSp1ce like the cowardly hypocrites they are lol). I'm tempted to assume most of my asks are anonymous for that reason. It's a shame, really. It's all a shame. Shame that BurningCheese doesn't get the love and attention it deserves and shame that anyone who tries to give it is burned at the stake for it

But I really do encourage you to post content! Pretty please! The world always needs more BurningCheese stuff. I'm only one person, I can't do it all alone haha

[anghraine]

Speaking of "The City on the Edge of Forever," I've been thinking about how my femslash Spirk AU winds out through the canon TOS episodes, interacts with gender expectations of the show, etc, and am mentally organizing episodes by how drastically affected they'd be.

I'm also thinking of S'paak hiding her ears beneath a beanie in 1930 :P

[asgardian--angels]

things I wish I could relive for the first time again:

that magical window where you finish a new piece of media, having watched/read it all by yourself with no fandom contact whatsoever, and you are just so happy about it, and full of interesting theories and takeaways, and just in love with it as a gorgeous piece of art.

because I swear to god as soon as you join the fandom for anything, you're bombarded with how you're supposed to view characters and their arcs, how you're supposed to morally and ethically judge the plot and the ways it apparently failed to present the right message, and if you don't you'll either be shunned for not sharing the popular headcanons or you'll be harassed for not criticizing the source material enough.

like how is it that the fans of a piece of media are also the ones being the most negative about it? If I like a show or a movie or a book, well, I liked it. That's kind of the point. I'm actually not here to tear it apart and talk about how it didn't live up to standards other people had! I enjoyed it for what it was, and forcing myself to find negative things to say about it doesn't actually bring me more enjoyment of it or reap any benefit to me. Fandom's a double-edged sword; you want to join a community to share your love for a piece of art, and the price you pay for a modicum of joy is a mountain of negativity. that's one main reason that I never engage with fandom until I'm completely done with a show, because if I was plugged into all of that commentary and discourse during the process, I'd be completely colored by how I'm expected to interpret everything this piece of art is presenting to me without being able to even form my own opinions.

[ridingtorohan]

𓇻 ft. shay cormac x assassin recruit gn reader 𓇻 warnings! minor spoilers for AC Rogue. alcohol consumption + minor injury. 𓇻 au. reader is Hope and Liam's newest addition to the Brotherhood. Unfortunately, you've just learned about Shay's involvement... long after you've already met him. 𓇻 enjoy! feel free to like, reblog, or send in asks! ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎read on ao3! - masterlist - join the taglist!

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ───※ ·❆· ※───

"Looks like you've got a right shiner this time."

It's a voice you recognize, even through the thick of the fog. With bottle of brandy in hand, opening to your bottom lip, you've managed to cool the swell of your ego better than you have your bruise. Tongue darts out, pushing at your upper lip.

His glove rests to your cheekbone, index finger trailing softly over tender skin. Never tender enough because you flinch instinctively, expression pulling tighter. Guarded was never a flattering expression on Shay and it certainly wasn't now. Nose wrinkling, you incline your head away, the cold now freshly stinging.

Even though it's been a few hours, the tenderness hasn't gone down, still bitter and sitting coloured beneath the flush of your skin. At least you've managed the swelling some. The ghost of Shay's fingers on your skin lingers. You turn away, nursing the bottle with another sip. With a low, wanting creak of wood, the saloon's deck groans beneath Shay's weight as he shifts, back turned towards the banister, eyes always on you. Elbows resting over the rails, fresh snow lines the roots of his dark hair, skin still unbothered by the cold. So he's the one you heard step out after you.

"Did Hope give it to ye?" He asked, voice low and careful, eyes still impossibly dark, even when the warm tavern light dances over his features. Your mouth twists, sour line worrying into the skin.

"Liam."

"Ah." Then, "Well, he's always been a right git anyhow."

Looking at him like this, an air of familiarity drifting between you two, it almost tempers the sorrow and grief that still echoes in your bones. The insisting song of rage and injustice. Your fingers curl tighter around the bottle- and you see it too. How Shay's eyes don't even dart away but a barely perceptible twitch. Always watching each movement. A biting scoff rises in your throat before you can stop it.

For everything that Hope and Liam had trained you for, for all the burdens you bore, memories and lessons drilled into your head- this was not how you thought it would go.

Because every scary story told to you, every drill and hasty explanation- it was all because of him. Every bruise and aching joint- every nasty remark and lessons forced well past their dues. Even Achilles, as senile as he seemed, remarked upon the force the Brotherhood trained you.

All to avenge ghosts of Assassins you didn't know, never had a chance to know. All for a Brotherhood that had been tarnished before you joined.

You were meant to replace Shay, you realize that now. A bitter truth that had come to a head earlier that night, when Liam saw how you held your blades. Accosted you for it, demanding where you learned it from. 'From Shay', you had wanted to say, because it had been the truth. Then the rest of it followed, with Hope pleading with you to leave for the night while everyone cooled down. While they cooled down.

Looking back, you should have known better than to accept some strange man's friendly banters in taverns. Known better than to walk his boat, learning its knots better than you learned your knives.

It makes sense. Shay befriended you to sniff out the Assassin's plans. It made sense. Just as it made sense that Liam tried building you into a better tool, trying to outpace the losses that the Brotherhood had suffered.

'It's not fair.'

You think how his hands felt on your sides, careful in his guidance. Teaching you with a far greater patience than Liam had, with far kinder methods than Hope's. You had learned better under Shay- and somehow, that made it all worse, stinging more than the betrayal did.

"I hate you," you tell him. Shay tilts his head, little more than an acknowledgement. Eyes studying you, judging your reaction. Fog puffs in front of his face with his slow exhale. The wind blows it back, dusting across dark eyes before disappearing into the night.

"I know."

Still, even though you know, even though he knows, neither of you move. It's just the slow tilt of the bottle against your lips, burning motion of liquor down your throat. Cold seeping through your clothes, always too thin, never durable enough for the winter. Something that Shay had tried to correct you on but Kesegowaase didn't care for. Always too busy for your innate questions.

You want to hate Shay for everything. Pin it all on him. It'd be the easiest way. Give in to what your mentors had been trying to drill into your head: enemy, enemy, enemy.

Glass presses to your lips again. Shay's fingers ghost over yours, leather pressing light to exposed fingers. A grip that remains solid - but not insistent... and with the patience of a man that wouldn't exist in the Shay that the Brotherhood knew.

But he lets you take another drink anyway. You weren't a lightweight. Shay had made sure of that.

"Are you going to kill me?" You decide on saying when the fire has tempered in your throat. All that's left is the chill in your eyes, the nip of frost and frozen winds on your cheeks.

His fingers remain on the bottle and with a light tug, you concede, letting him bring it to his own lips. Cleanshaven, unlike the scruffy remnants that you had been sworn to. In all the ways that matter, he's unlike the man you've been told about. But you can see where the threat lies, the careful way he tilts his shoulders, languid but prepared. That part of the stories are true.

"Only if our blades cross," Shay responds, swallow audible, eyes dark as he peers at you over the neck of the bottle. He passes it to you, fingers brushing over yours.

Fingers connect. You try not to memorize how they feel.

"They'll order me to kill you," you decide to say.

Shay blinks, then blinks again when the snow lingers on his lashes. "Aye. And I won't let you." You scoff bitterly against the bottle. You both have roles to play. You just wish yours wasn't this.

You turn your eyes away, skimming over the balcony, out into the rolling hills of snow. More powder falls from the sky, dusting across your shoulders, frozen kisses upon cold-flushed skin. It'd be easy, you know, for Shay to just reach over and slide his blade into your neck. Nobody would hear you. Even with gold light dusting over the white expanse ahead, there's still dark shadows. You're both still isolated.

The music in the other room sounds so far away.

He doesn't move and you get to take another drink.

You think, then, that this isn't all there is. That there's more to the man that you were told about. That words uttered with hate or hellfire don't amount to the hours you've spent by his side, listening to some bawdy tale that Gist told him.

Then, in the same breath, you think: he doesn't have to kill me and I don't have to kill him.

Then, in another: what if there was another way?

Because for all the assassins are, good teachers aren't one of them. That you still swore to protect the innocent and your blade hasn't known flesh. In all these moments, caught between the Homestead and someone you had thought you had known, there exists things that you don't know. Impossibly, that there might be kindness beyond this rage and suffering that everyone has been dealt.

Again, in your mind's eye, you feel the shadow of Shay's gloves on your arms and waist, correcting your stance. Think of Achilles' words, heated and grave. Of Hope's flattering gait as she leads you through her warehouse.

"Shay, what-" You turn, throat tight, shadows and aches lingering in your mind still. There's nothing there, the impressions of his boots filling with the drifting of snow. Only gloves left on the railing, cuffs rimmed with fur. Still warm, even as you press chapped and shaking fingers inside, leather cushioning your palms. Because this is who Shay is, always watching out for you.

The next sip of the bottle goes down tasteless, no longer satisfying. The despair doesn't run as hot in your blood anymore, though the sense of betrayal lingers. Except now you wonder, just who exactly you feel betrayed by.

[rigginsstreet]

MAE: And then also her implementing that change and breaking that pattern in her familial relationships that her mom was having of taking back these guys who do not treat them right and her sort of not only saying no to that, but also "I'm not doing that in my life" with Riggins! SCOTT: Big move. Big move. And a lot of Tyra-Tim scenes haven't been making it into the episodes, but have been in the scripts, but a lot of them are the show trying to figure out how to same the same thing and get Tim to the place where he's so honest, and he is in that scene. He's like "I did." And she says "This is exactly what somebody would say before they just revert back to who they were." And I'm like, ah man, can Tyra not believe that people can kind of change at this point? Maybe not until she fully changes her situation. MAE: She's also, like, I think, to a degree that's such a tricky thing about relationships and people in general, like yes people can change, but at some point- at what point does it not work for you anymore? And being- I think that's like a really grown up thing- another kids having to grow up thing to realize that look, you're on your own journey, and I support you and I'm glad you- I understand you have to do this as many times as it takes for it to make sense to you to actually implement this change in your life and have it really be yours, but I can't go with you on that journey anymore.

-IT’S NOT ONLY FOOTBALL: FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS AND BEYOND

[akashicrecord]

[planet-fuckin-jupiter]

i think the frustrating part about holding so firmly onto the notion that i must have DID is that in no way does it serve me to have this disorder or pretend like i do.

Like, people who are physically disabled dont get treated better because people can physically see they are disabled.

And i know that having a mental diagnosis of any kind does not make the people around me more understanding.

So it doesnt make sense for me to keep pointing at one and going "Look, I know you told me i only have CPTSD, BPD and Severe anxiety and Depression. but that isnt the whole of it, youre wrong, youre wrong, you are wrong."

As someone who was repeatedly abused into not believing the reality around himself growing up, I can't express enough how fucking badly believing in something like this just never happens to me. especially when the denial hits because some part of me, some deep, core part of me knows i have DID. But I just cant let myself have that or be content with that because i dont have an offical diagnosis. because my therapist, who flat out told me and admitted that while i do have alters, said i dont have DID.

What the fuck. What am i fighting so hard for. why is this so important to me? because the description and symptoms of DID match me so much better than any other diagnosis? i dont know. i dont know anymore. im so tired. my tarot cards were not fucking joking.

[thebluebygracieabrams]

when the competition is making me cry in 10 seconds and your opponents are my parents

[blueheartedmayor]

The dust may settle on one matter, but a Captain's work is never done. Noah had the expertise of working alongside new colonies, and he found himself helping on several committee boards despite his intention to take a step back from responsibility.

Life, at least, was familiar. Though there was a routine, there was no concern of days looping or, worse, time freezing to a halt as the universe collapsed on itself. His injuries on his face and neck were finally healing, though the path to regain what little movement in the fingers in his left hand he could was a long, slow path.

He could make do. He was right-handed, and so he didn't need to sacrifice his hobbies or reduce his workload. A hand incapable of flexibility still made for a great weight to hold things in place, after all! On the other side of things, one of the Crew Leads had noticed him hesitate as he caught sight of his scarred reflection and reassured Noah that he still looked handsome.

Saturday had been his birthday. It had been his plan to take time off and go somewhere, but there had been an issue with the installation of heat pumps in the newest housing development. Noah wasn't entirely sure why he had to help solve the issue, but it took three days to figure something out.

Once things appeared to be settled, he felt comfortable enough to make an announcement during the Tuesday morning meeting of the Crew Leads and Department Heads:

"I shall be taking the rest of the week off."

There were mixed reactions to this.

Those who had worked alongside him on the first Invincible were thrilled. Taking time off was always a good thing for them. The Head Engineer in particular was glad to see Noah wasn't stuck in the mentality of being on the go non-stop.

Those who had been in cryosleep and who only got to know Noah once the colony was being established were exasperated. This was terrible timing - granted, there was never a 'good time' to take off when anyone would call for Noah's input at any given moment. Dinners had been interrupted in the vital and urgent quest to get his opinion on matters such as which colour door handles should be installed first.

Tensions were high, and the last thing Noah wanted was to be the cause of another argument between the two sides of his expanded team. Today was not the day to try and help them find middle ground. Instead, he told them that he simply couldn't postpone it and further because he was being kidnapped today and that kind of plan cannot be easily rearranged.

Before questions could be raised, the meeting was dismissed, and Noah stepped outside. There, a large hulking figure stood, attention fixed on the puppy snuggled against the crook of his arm.

Noah approached and tapped Wug's other arm, giving the signal that it was time to go. Bandit had promised that Noah deserved birthday drinks, and he couldn't wait any longer for that!

[collectorcookie]

Semester so bad, i have developed new illnesses on top of already existing ones. Yippieeeee

[grimmgrinningghouls]

"Why does Ruby have to be butch??" why not. next question.

[florida3exclamationpoints]

.

[barbatos-sama]

not twitter saying gay men aren't allowed to call women bitches even in the most light hearted context and calling it a misogynistic slur