#it probably seems like I drink a lot based on my Tumblr posts but I honestly don't

[what-yadoking-likes]

My sister: I made a dairy-free Christmas Cake so you can have some.

Me: thank.

My sister: *started making the cake in September, 'feeding' it every week with brandy*

Yado's partner: *doesn't drink*

Me, after eating some cake: well, that certainly had alcohol in it.

My sister: it doesn't have that much alcohol in it!

Me right here right now in this very moment:

#not a Payday post #Yado irl #Yado's sister #Yado's partner #Yado drinks? #is this a shitpost? who knows #TW: drinking #TW: alcohol #it probably seems like I drink a lot based on my Tumblr posts but I honestly don't #I drink once or twice a month which is an increase from like 3 years ago #whereas my family will drink at every and any opportunity #I genuinely worry my mother is alcohol-dependent #and Nana has openly admitted to having only alcohol left in her life now Gran/Dad has died

[candywife333]

Champagne Confetti

PART 3 of Just Want to See you Like That

This series is based on Jungkook's 3D and is probably going to have close to 6-7 parts, depending on where the storyline takes me. I'm feeling a bit dramatic, so expect a lot of angst. Tumblr is going to be referenced in this fic under a different name, Bumblr (I know, totally goofy name).

Summary: Y/N, an overworked employee at HYBE , only ever posted on Bumblr when she was feeling cornered. It was truly her escape. She didn't really do insta or even twitter. Most people would look at her and think this glass wearing quiet girl would most probably be posting pics of flowers and cute animals. But no, looks could be deceiving. Y/N's posts were far from innocent. In fact , they were borderline risque. She didn't expect anybody but a few horny people to come across these pics; people who would view and compliment in the best case scenario. What she didn't expect was that a certain star would be a regular consumer of her material. A star that technically had no business simping after her like that.

Disclaimer: This work is not representative of the real Jungkook's personality and behavior. It is merely fiction and please treat it as such.

Trigger Warning: voyeurism, exhibitionism, may or may not have dub-con later on

Please don't read the fic if any of these themes are disturbing or offensive to you.

Taglist is open

I couldn't believe how freeing it felt to quit that damn job. I had loved interacting with the kind staff and organizing things; something I was a pro at. However, the constant verbal abuse and condescension I had suffered at the hands of the administration had gone on long enough. Since I don't drink, I grabbed a huge bottle of apple cider from the store and headed back home to pop this bottle open and pour the golden liquid into a glass delicate pink wine goblet I had purchased last month.

I decided to have an apple themed party for myself. So I got home, showered with apple and cinnamon shower gel, put on a vintage flare dress with a pattern of green and red apples littered all over, and sat down with my cider and a decadent apple fritter that had been embellished with a wonderful berry compote.

Just as I popped open the bottle, giggling in glee, kicking my bare feet in the air on my comfy couch, my phone started blowing up. I stared at it frozen, rather confounded at what the reason for this cacophony could be. BANG PD?!!?! What the hell?! I never talked to the man. The only time I had even come across him was when I had accidentally bumped into his plush frame in a hallway. I would exaggerate and say that the tiny bump sent me flailing off onto the ground, but that would be a bit dramatic. I had lost my sense of balance and went crashing into a bucket of dirty cleaning water, clearly a great alternative to my extra imagination.

I was blushing in mortification reminiscing about that incident, as I came back to the present. I picked up my phone and was met with the gravelly steady voice of Bang PD as he drawled out , "Hello Y/N. How are you doing? Hope you are having a great evening". I felt paralyzed in awkwardness as I responded back timidly, "Of course PD-nim. I am doing great. Is there anything I can help you with?"

I heard a heavy sigh on the other end as PD groaned out in what seemed to be exasperation, "I am so sorry for what happened with our admin personnel this morning. My secretary informed about the incident and I am ashamed for her behavior. Please understand that I would never want any of my staff treated that miserably". Feeling shocked at his apology, I squeaked out, " Oh, please don't apologize PD. I know that her actions are not a reflection of HYBE's attitude towards employees. However, I find that my service isn't that valued at HYBE and I think maybe I am not a good fit anymore."

Strangely enough I could hear mumbled cursing on the other end of the phone as PD loudly exclaimed, "Of course you are a perfect fit for HYBE. Don't ever doubt that. I knew from the day I hired you, seeing you in your training period, how meticulous you are with running the maintenance of the place --even though we don't pay you to run management. Your dedication and management skills are invaluable to us. You may think I don't keep an eye on our maintenance staff, but I do. And everyone I have talked to from stylists to artists only have great things to say about you. In essence, what you do for us irreplaceable work".

I sat there on the couch with crumbs and sticky glaze all over my lips, as he continued, "Please come back to your job. But this time we will hire you as one of our administration managers. You are clearly overqualified for the position. Jennifer has been fired so you won't have to deal with her. And your pay will be hiked up to thrice what we used to pay you."

I almost choked on my own spit as I scrambled to tremulously say, "I am pleased to come back Sir. I won't disappoint you". He resumed speaking in a cheery voice, "Wonderful. I expect to see you back tomorrow at 9 AM. Your pay for the month has been wired to you". He hung up as I sat there in a daze before I got up from my seat and whooped loudly in the air yelling in mirth, "Take that you scumbags. Can't fuck with me and my bag". I couldn't wait to go back and show those bitches what I was made of. My luck was on the rise.

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

I skipped into office the next morning, elated at the upgrade in position. Walking inside the cubicle, I saw one of the nicer admin staff. Her name was Stacy Lee. She smiled a wide smile that you could only see in a toothpaste ad as she ran to me excited, "Hello!!! You must be Y/N. It is great to meet you. I've seen how hard you worked to carry the whole building for months on end. It is a pleasure to finally actually get to work with you."

Her warm aura encompassed me as I shook her hand and smiled at her, "I think we will get along just fine". Stacy briefed me in on all the work I was supposed to do. As I slowly finished my tasks throughout the day, mostly responding to phone calls and typing reports, I caught the sight of a certain black haired buff man walking through the doors of the lobby accompanied by Taehyung, the ever kind angel of HYBE. He was one of the nicest people to staff. Never spoke down to them or belittled them. He would even go as far as to thank them for all the tiny tasks they did for him, and invite staff to parties and dinners along with the rest of the members.

I knew him pretty well from a very interesting incident that happened a few months ago. He had been hungover, reeking of alcohol, heading into his private office to clearly mask his situation. He had stumbled into the lobby, knocking over the cleaning supplies that had been placed there in the morning. I had seen him haphazardly stumbling around and happened to grab him by his shoulders, escorting him into his office before he could lose all dignity and make a fool of himself.

I had handed him some coffee, soup from the cafeteria, and 2 ibuprofen pills to quell his hangover. He had started vomiting, so I had held his hair away from his face sticky with sweat, steadying him as he vomited. Wiping his forehead with a wet cloth, I had placed him on the spacious sofa in his office and told him to sleep for a bit. After that ordeal, he had been super kind to me. Sometimes he had followed me around like a little puppy dog as I completed my tasks. When I asked him why (rather startled at this rich idol's devotion), he responded in a jubilant voice , hugging me as he jumped up and down, shrieking with joy, "You are a wonderful person. And I want to be your friend".

I couldn't resist his puppy like dark eyes which stared innocently at me. We became really good friends, meeting each other up for dinner occasionally when he wasn't super busy. As Taehyung walked in, he walked over to me with an ecstatic grin on his face ," How you doing Y/N, my fluffy little cupcake?", as he came around the counter to squeeze me around the waist , engulfing me in his too warm embrace.

I snickered at him, "What's up Tae? You seem rather busy these days?" He flirted back shamelessly, "I'm never too busy for you my buttercup". I cringed internally and groaned , "Don't do this Tae. My heart can't take this level of sugar, I'll get diabetes".

As we were conversing, I felt a dark set of doe eyes piercing my frame, burning holes into my chest. I hadn't really gone over the top with the clothes today; a high waisted black business pant with a lacy pink top that showed just a tiny bit of cleavage. Wonder why the creep was staring. Last time I checked, I hadn't been the one desperately, vulgarly, pounding into any staff in a closet.

As I pondered all this, Tae whined, "Please come outside tonight to celebrate with us. It'll be just the boys, TXT, and our managers". Apparently it was his birthday, and he had been hyping it up beyond measure, trying to convince me to show up for close to a month now. He continued, "Come on Y/N. There will be champagne confetti. I know you don't drink, but you will love the confetti popping into the air. You are such a baby, but I love that about you. I will force you to come if you don't agree. Am not even above threatening you."

I stared at his dead pan expression. I sighed, "Okay Tae, I will join you this once only. You know how awkward I get with new people." He jauntily shook his head up and down, running away screaming, "Hyung, I finally got Y/N to come out of her shell. Get ready to get wasted guys". I scoffed. Tae himself hated drinking. Dude was more likely to consume 10 cupcakes rather than even a shot of soju. I guess both of us would have a sugar high tonight.

Even though Tae left, the black eyed black haired devil hadn't left the room. He seemed oddly stunned, his face contorted onto an "O" shape, his round eyes unblinking, mouth open completely as he stuttered out incredulously, " Are you by chance....cherrybomb123 on Bumblr"?

WTF?!!!! I was panicking internally. How would he know? He couldn't possibly recognize the pale pink lace bra barely peeking out of my top? And if he recognized me, who the hell was he? My brain was screeching out with the answer as I stared at him in shock. I was royally screwed, and not in a good way.

Taglist : @sporadicarcadebanana , @darkuni63, @jessicalynn85, @mint--yoongs, @fortunecookiesworld

#jungkook x reader #bts x reader #smut #bts x plus size reader #eventual smut #self love #curvy reader #bts fanfic #bts x y/n #bts x chubby reader #3D #3D jungkook

[cemoras27-but-writing-this-time]

Danny's Evil Jaunt. Its Evil He Swears. Ignore the Charity. pt. 2

Hello! Im back with Part 2 Im honored that so many people were interested <3 HOPEFULLY THE COLOR STAYS RIGHT IM SO SORRY ABOUT THAT I DON'T POST ON TUMBLR OFTEN. also i have almost 0 history about Dc so if anyone wants to ramble about the charaters in the tags please do

Danny's outfit was based on @little-pondhead 's art and prompt was by @im-totally-not-an-alien-2

part: 1

AO3

Oliver Queen had thought he’d seen it all; however this Fenton guy just seems to be full of fun little gadgets. And puns. So many puns.

No one knows anything about the guy other than he’s a mechanical genius. Just magically appeared out of the blue one day with inventions that make Dr. Freeze’s gun look like a toy, claiming that ‘he’s not gonna be here long today but needs to do some field testing.’

And now here's Oliver listening to this kid(it had to be a kid, Fenton didn’t look a day over 14) ramble about how much fun he had today and that he had to come back soon(not looking forward to that). Green Arrow took a good look at the kid. 

He was short, maybe around 5’4 without the boots, and didn’t have much bulk, but clearly had a lot of lean muscle from what Oliver could tell from the fight, and black shaggy undercut hair. He wore a red hazmat suit with black gloves and red with black tinted lenses goggles. All covered with a lab coat that is definitely not OSHA compliant for mad scientist children, not with the way it was singed at the bottom and the sleeves had been torn off at the elbow, and the amount of sewn on patches - the biggest being the Fenton logo on his back. He was also lugging around a massive cannon that had Oliver bound to a lamp post with a glowing green net, but nets weren’t the only thing it could shoot, no it shot out so many things within the half hour they had been fighting that Oliver lost count. The kid also had some weird meta biology if the sharp teeth and pointed ears were anything to go on. But Oliver’s thoughts were cut off by a phone ringing. Fenton looked down and started feeling around his suit until he found his phone, a small Iphone with odd attachments with a green ghost case covered with stickers, stopped the alarm and moved his goggles up to rest on his head wincing as the rising sun shined in his eyes.

“Hoo bright. Alright that's it for today I guess! Thanks for playing with me Mr. Arrow, I think I'm gonna pick up some energy drinks and  a couple of snacks before heading home, I still need to write an English paper for Mr. Lancer and Jazz’ll finish me off if I don’t get home soon” Fenton grinned and started to punch in directions for the nearest convenience store on his phone. It was just around the corner from the street they had left the fight off on, nice. 

‘Maybe I should grab some for Sam and Tuck’ Danny thought, ‘Oh wait I forgot!’ just as he was about to turn into the store he rushed back to where he left Green Arrow, who was trying to saw his way out of the Fentnet with his knife. 

“Sorry! I wanted to do something before I left!” Fenton smiled and put his wiry arm around Oliver in a side hug and pulled out his phone and did a peace sign with the hand around Oliver. “Say Frootloops!”

Fenton pulled off Oliver and showed him the picture, Fenton had a Cheshire cat grin while he had a miserable expression. 

“Ooph, probably not your best look but I think we look cool. And really, that’s all that matters at the end of the day. How I think we look.” 

“You're a menace, what do you want?” 

“You don’t know? I’m god’s playtester and I’m here for bug testing before the rest of the world sees my inventions. Consider Star City my testing sandbox. Anyway see’ya!” and Fenton was gone down the street. 

And that was the day Oliver Queen knew that he needed to make sure that the world outside of Star City could never be exposed to Fenton. Especially the bat. If anyone found out his ego would never recover.

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

if you want to be added to the tag list please put it in the comments! it's easier to see there!

@starkcravingmad@amuseofminds@emeraudesfateandfandoms@passivedecept@quirky-gardener@xarexraven@justwannabecat @fisticuffsatapplebees @blacksea21090 @lovelessnightfall @iceknight-of-sun @sabrina414 @moobloomrights @vortexbox @trickedri @naluforever3 @suppengott @angelsdeathsstuff @lesling123 @cosmicgesture @always-be-a-stranger @sealover89 @slapphapp1 @fantasticbluebirdfan @krzys2000 @xxwintrynightzxx @justgray15777 @littlegrayram @danisfra @kyrianclawraith @@thought-u-said-dragon-queen

#dp x dc #cem's writing #dpxdc #I hope this goes through right #it was a pain to fix the text last time

[sydalelys01]

THE GROOMING

Well this is my first post, first I want to clarify that I am not a person who usually has popular opinions in the fandom… soo… many people will not like what I say… but hey, that's the purpose of this profile expel my opinions on different topics.

I also want to clarify that English is not my first language (it is Spanish) and you will probably find spelling horrors, so if you want to comment in Spanish you are free to do so.

By the way, I'm new to Tumblr, so I don't know why I get a lot of shit from the green team, fans of Alicent and the funny but fateful ship of Renada and Alicent, by the way ,HELP!!! I need to get out of there.🤣

but hey, I came across a post that talked about the supposed grooming that Daemon did to rhaenyra (bringing current morality to a work based on medieval times, that it seems fatal to me to do that more in a work with the nature of ASOIF, where Most characters border and play with the limit of morality ) and said that He had been grooming her since She was little and that Alicent herself was uncomfortable with daemon's dealings with rhaenyra. Well, I'll tell you my opinion about this and about who really groomed Rhaenyra.

Starting with the time lines (it should be clarified that I will use the true CANON, the books)

Rhaenyra is born in 97 ac, and Daemon is 16 years old when she is born and they give him darksister becoming a knight, that same year Daemon marries Rhea, then He is sent to live with his wife in runestone, therefore Daemon watches sporadically Rhaenyra and when He visited Kings landing , He did not spend 24/7 with her although He brought gifts to rhaenyra, and also his life on silk street was well known, and later in 103 to 104 is where they put him in The great advice… that we already know doesn't work and he's only been in these positions for 6 months. They give him permission to create the city wacht and he was in that position for 2 YEARS where he spent killing thieves and rapists, drinking and fucking whores. That he "lived" (that he practically did not live there) in the fortress did not mean that Rhaenyra looked at it every day and lived with him all the time. In 105 Aemma died and that same year Daemon was expelled from Kl, when Rhaenyra was 8 YEARS OLD, DAEMON returns to court in 111, that is, He was out of court for 6 YEARS… Daemon was never a constant in rhaenyra's childhood because he passed through silk street or was expelled in the valley.

Now let's talk about the men who really did that to rhaenyra if we use the term Grooming (which is stupid to use since it is a term that refers to the use of ICT and current moral and ethical standards).

But let's start with one loved and acclaimed by my dearest green team, the great white knight, the great Criston Cole who met her at age 7 (in the maiden pool tournament) and he was 22 years old and in the same year where he was named her sworn shield (he is 15 years older than rhaenyra). He saw her grow up and he was glued to her 24/7, who the great Queen Alicent herself said "that he protected Rhaenyra but nobody protected her from him" of course we do not talk about grooming anymore right?

Do all of you want to continue? Well, let's continue, now with the supposed "strongest man of the 7 kingdoms", Harwin strong, who arrived… guess when to court? at 105, and how old was rhaenyra at 105? yess!! You guessed it!, she was 8 years old, and you can't tell me that he wasn't close to her and that he didn't see her grow up, because her sisters were ladies of Rhaenyra. ….

and guess how many years Harwin is older than her? yes, 8 years … and who is the father of her first childrens? …. spoiler …. is not laenor, but no one talks about these great and honorable gentlemens … only Daemon who didn't see her grow up and was not even a quarter as close to Rhaenyra like Cole or Sir Strong….

As I repeat, it seems stupid to me to use the term in a work with a medieval context, where the majority of women married between the ages of 14 and 16 and if you passed that age you were a spinster or something was strange with you….. AND I THINK MORE HYPOCRITE for an alicent fan to say… DO YOU WANNA READ ME TO TALK ABOUT ALICENT? let's talk about alicent… an 18-year-old single "maiden" daughter of a second son who, since she did not inherit anything, would have to look for a husband at an early age who would give her strength and children. but conveniently she was single and willing to marry a man with a daughter… who wanted her own children to be kings who got to marry her 13-YEAR-OLD daughter to her brother who was only 2 years older than her "normal" but who collected bastards as a hobby… and there is much more to say about alicent…

but hey, this post already seems like a legal document… I'll leave it here.

I wait for your comments…

kisses.😘

#asoiaf #criston cole #harwin strong #grooming #alicent hightower #daemon targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #hipocracy #fake people #I invite you to read the facts of the books #first post #anti greens #anti criston cole #anti harwin strong #anti alicent hightower #anti alicent stans

[firstkanaphans]

Is twins worth the watch? I’m trying to decide whether to start ANOTHER bl. There’s so many going on rn lol

Oh, I feel you there. I’m literally drowning in BLs. I had to drop both Pit Babe and Cooking Crush simply because I didn’t have enough time to watch them. The BL gods have blessed us with a season of abundance, but I’m just a poor human who has a day job.

Here’s the thing about Twins: the plot makes no logical sense, so if you’re the type of person who needs a coherent storyline to enjoy a show, this probably isn’t the series for you. The basic premise is that there are these two twins named after soft drinks: Sprite and Pepsi (AKA Zee). Sprite does jiu jitsu. Zee plays volleyball. Sprite is a golden retriever trapped in a human’s body. Zee has undiagnosed autism and is kinda an asshole.

For reasons I can’t remember right now, Sprite’s jiu jitsu rival hires someone to beat him up, but they accidentally beat Zee up instead. So, wracked with guilt, Sprite decides to take Zee’s place on the volleyball team—a sport no one bothers to teach him how to play until episode 6. Why does he need to take Zee’s place? Literally no idea. Best not to think about it too hard.

Sprite joins the volleyball team and decides to try improving his antisocial brother’s life by finally making him some friends—starting with First, Zee’s arch nemesis. So we get to watch Sprite make an absolute fool of himself as he does everything in his power to convince this grumpy ass volleyball player to be his bestie while simultaneously nursing a huge crush on him.

I absolutely adore this show and I highly recommend it. If I could only watch one show right now, it would be Twins. I get the feeling based on the production company’s increasingly desperate social media posts that the series isn’t doing that well overall, but it seems to have a fairly large cult following here on Tumblr and I like to think we have pretty good taste.

If you do start it, my only recommendation would be to withhold judgment until episode 2 because that is when the twins swap. The first episode is just a lot of set-up. You don’t get the full Twins experience until episode 2.

I mean, just look at this disaster muffin. He deserves the world.

#twins the series #asks #it reminds me a bit of ghost host ghost house in that everything in the background is kinda a mess #but the main couple makes up for it

[cathsith]

Hi, reddit people. I hope you're encountering more friendly people than douchey people.

There's a shit ton of useful and thorough guides that provide instructions on how to use the site. This is more of a "shit that's good to know, in no particular order" type of guide

Random thoughts:

💠 Profile: put whatever you want, as long as you put something. It's up to you what you want to share. Just practice common sense internet safety.

💠 People have some really, um, interesting names here, many NSFW. Personally, I think it's hilarious to reblog deep social commentary from someone with a porny name, but if you're concerned about having that on your blog, maybe make sure to check.

💠 I'm sure some of you are old enough that maybe you were on livejournal and are still mourning its loss. I miss it too, especially for fandom. Your best bet at recreating some of that experience is to find creators you like (many fic writers include their Tumblr on their ao3 profile or fics) and following and interacting with them here.

💠 You can either comment on or reblog posts if you want. Some people seem to have *opinions* as to whether it's better to comment or reblog but it sort of seems like a generational divide. I decide which one to do based on how much I want to add and if it's particularly interesting, well thought out, and/or funny.

💠 A lot of people talk about how likes are useless, but I personally think it's a YMMV type of thing. For a while I tried to keep my likes limited to things I wanted to save, since you can't save posts here unless you bookmark it on your browser. But I also tend to like personal posts or reblogs from mutuals as a mark of support. Yes, you should reblog art to boost the artist's exposure. And no one does what they should do every time and I'm sure artists still like getting likes even if they'd prefer reblogs.

💠 Some people have started putting DNI (do not interact) in their info on their blogs and may get mad if you reblog from them. Sometimes people reblog stuff that you like and then you find out that you strongly disagree with their politics/beliefs etc. No one sensible expects you to vet every single person you reblog and if anyone puts up a fuss, you can probably safely ignore them unless they report you for abuse. I've never heard of that happening.

💠 You can contact people two ways: asks and messages. Asks have a word limit and if you go past it, will broken up and may be sent in reverse order. Asks also allow you to be anonymous. People can reply publicly or privately. If you want it to stay private, you should probably state that. If you are anonymous, obviously the response can only come publicly. Messages are essentially chats. A lot of people are cool with getting messages, but I personally am too awkward to use them except with mutuals. (But I'm totally cool with getting them, if you are so inclined)

💠 Mutuals: some people follow others back everytime, some never do. But there's a funny thing where we (tumblr people) get deeply attached to mutuals even if we've never had an actual conversation beyond a comment or two. It's a thing, but a nice thing.

💠 There are a couple famous people hanging around. They're great and surprisingly good at tumblr. Be cool.

💠 Blaze posts are relatively new. You can pay like $10 to have your post shown to people like an ad. Some people use it to advertise their etsy or personal store site, but plenty of people also post pictures of their pets or reminders to drink water or hopes that you have a good day. I usually enjoy them but they're fairly unobtrusive if you don't.

💠 Because there isn't much of an algorithm here, ads can be really random and really strange. You can get rid of ads entirely with a paid account. I think that includes blaze posts but I'm not positive.

💠 Tags here are weird. They fall into a few categories:

🔹 Subject tags: fandoms, music, sports, current events, medical or psychological conditions, history, science, etc

🔹 Warning tags: they're obviously not required, but they're not hard to add and are really important for a lot of people. Sometimes they're posted as "cw: warning" or "tw: warning" but sometimes it's just the warning itself. Just do your best. If you see something tagged "unreality" it means that what you're reading isn't real, but may be presented as if it is. This is (to the best of my knowledge) a warning for people with delusional disorders. It's also generally acceptable to request that someone add a content warning.

🔹 Personal tags: people come up with tags they use on their own blogs for categorization. Some of them are pretty clever. If something is just tagged "personal" then it's considered rude to reblog unless the poster says it's okay.

🔹 Conversation tags: I've been here for ages, but I still don't know the origin of "talking in the tags." Whatever the reason, we do it a lot here. Sometimes it's a quick reference or quip, sometimes it's a dissertation. The longer the tags, the more entertaining they tend to be. If you see a screenshot of tags, that means that they have undergone "peer review"and deemed important or funny enough to be moved into the post itself. It's a high honor.

💠 Tumblr holidays - I think this list has most of them

💠 There is some AMAZING original fiction and artwork here, some of which has been deemed Tumblr Folklore. Check out this list

💠 Okay I'm gonna stop now because I keep adding shit and I've had this draft going for almost 24 hours now and I would like my tumbr app back now

Hope somebody finds this helpful! Feel free to say hi if you want

#reddit migration #guide posts of dubious guidance #r/196 #I added the 196 tag because I think that's a majority of the migration

[sstabhmontown]

On Citizenship and Taxes

A slow introduction to the Domain Turn

As always of late, Tumblr has mangled the formatting of this post if you view it in the dashboard. Open it in the browser instead to see the table and the list as imagined.

Our language on Strongholds is about the end-game: you win. For as long as you keep playing, you can recruit henchfolk for free if you have a place for them to stay. But it seems that we have some appetite for more of an economic domain game after all.

The best domain rules I've seen are those in Kevin Crawford's Wolves of God. They have the right time-scale, being seasonal, and better yet they are grounded in a political economy, unlike Crawford's usual faction systems that are purely abstract game-pieces as in Worlds Without Number. In short—they rule. The second part of these rules (to follow) will be adapating and rewriting enough of that system to take it beyond dark-age england into our D&D non-time, a flattened ahistorical medieval that is every time between the year 600 and 1300, all at once but unevely distributed. Lots to do.

But first, what about everyone else? If I wanted to really build from scratch a game with this kind of grounding in political economy, I'd need either Wolves of God's curtailing of character types, or else an expansive view like Skerples' classic posts on Taxation and the Estates. But, a complex background system, more decisions at character creation, and entanglements with the world before a character is fully drawn are not things I am looking for in my drop-in friendly, low barrier game.

Becoming a citizen

The desperate characters we roll up at the table, who delve into dark places and criss-cross the landscape, are essentially members of the outlaw class. They are displaced persons, travellers from distant lands, or runaways making their own way. This is why everything they know about the region is probably from a rumours chart, and why nobody seems to remember them before they show up for an adventure. This is also why even when they meet civilized folk traveling the countryside, a few bad reactions can lead to bloody battle.

As Skerples puts it: “you owe no taxes, but you have no rights”.

As long as they continue their simple lifestyle of plundering tombs, travelling from place to place, and drinking towns dry, they stay this way. But at a certain point, they will want to put down roots: to establish a home base for magickal research, to swear a bond to a lord or holy order, or to establish a small church. Or simply because they find the building charts more friendly than the carousing ones for spending their money.

When a character enters the service of a lord or holy order, or establishes a home or place of commerce in town, they become a Citizen.

The Season Turn

On each Solstice or Equinox, or whenever a character returns to adventure in a place where they are a Citizen and one or more of those dates has passed since their last appearance here, they must settle their taxes. There are three steps to this:

Announce how much silver you have earned this season. Be sure to let your friends at the table know if you think your tally is accurate, and if your character is honest about it or not.

See how the local lord favours you—describe how your relationship has been with them, and roll a Reaction (2d6+Cha).

On 2–6, the spoils of your outlaw's life, in the dungeon and the wild, are judged to be ill-gotten gains, surely the rightful property of the lord. You owe it all, plus 10% tithe to the local church. There's likely an Accusation going around about you, depending on how much evidence there is of your profligacy or dishonesty on the numbers.

On 7–9, folks see you as a fine enough member of the community. But you have obligations. You owe 10% to the church, plus 50% to the local lord, or bishop for Clerics. The rest of your earnings, you'll be awarded as an allowance.

On 10+, you can avoid paying—if you'll use your high stature in the community to do a Service for those above you.

d6 Accusations Services 1 Witchcraft A gift of magic 2 Blasphemy Military conflict 3 Thievery Mediate a dispute 4 Robbery Tutor a student 5 Murder Manage some business 6 Treason Marriage

Try to get out payment!

There are several ways one might avoid ones debts. Here are a few:

If the lord himself, or whoever is above you in the church, owes you a favour, cross it off

If the lord's superior—the Duke, or the King, is known to be your ally, then the first season of arrears is likely to be ignored. Calling in their favour could get you out of several's worth of debts.

When you Carouse, mark down those you bring tribute to or celebrate with. Can they be called to vouch for you—deepening your debts for next season, but buying you time to find the gold?

If you are a Knight, sworn to service of your lord or a holy order, your needs are predictable: to Carouse at their hall, and to do a Service, each season.

If your peer is a Knight—they might be able to take you into their service, as long as you don't bring them into disrepute. But do you want to give them that power over you?

If you know the local lord personally—because they are a player character who has built a stronghold and remains in play—you can negotiate your own terms.

If you've done a Famous Heroic Deed beneficial to the realm, you can completely ignore the result of any one season in the year that follows.

Notes for next time:

How do we apply the Wolves of God domain rules more generally without losing their groundedness? How can we expand the "Found a Hamlet" move there to the development of towns and villages? And, what about wizards?

#rules #carousing #domain turn

[floraone]

Hi Floraone

Long time fan of you work on FF.net and following you, Antigone2, Daikon, and a couple others on Ao3 too.

Aside from wanting to take a second to dish out a little bit of praise, I’m dropping a line because I wanted some references for some solid canon info regarding the universe of SM.

I mean I know the general stuff with the lore as I’ve watched both the anime and have the original 90s TokyoPop print of the mangas, but I’m curious and confused about the “finer details” and it gets confusing because I read a lot of fanfiction and can’t tell what’s canon, widely accepted fanon, and headcanon.

Example: Is Mamoru’s financial stability from his own hard work since aging out of the Orphanage/Foster System or did his parents leave him an inheritance?

Anybody you recommend or would you have any posts that cover canon vs fanon? Or posts covering SM lore?

HI! I'm so so sorry I'm getting to this so late. Honestly I read it the day I got it, did not have time at the time to answer, and then forgot about it 😢 (Story of my Brain). However, I'm a afraid I don't have any recs on who covers the fanon vs canon topics on tumblr, but maybe one of you can help with some recommendations of where to go?

Of course with a fandom so old there is TONS of fanon going around, some extrapolated from snippets that we see in canon (like Mamoru's money-having-thing), some completely made up (like the milkshakes they supposedly drink at Crown.)

Personally I adore fanon. I love the fact that you can see a shared base of ideas that people just run with in a fandom and that see how much we as a community influence each other. And I love to see when new bits of fanon spread.

However, the fact that although Mamoru is an orphan, Mamoru is so routinely depicted as wealthy probably simply comes from the fact that he has a pretty spacious apartment for his age and Japanese standards, runs around in tuxedos, and in the anime, he drives expensive cars and motorcycles as a mere 18 yearold. Canon never tells us where he gets the money for these things from explicitly (although in the anime we DO see him in a sprinkled number of Very Random Jobs here and there from the TV station in R to that hotel in S) and since Japan basically has no foster system to speak of, he would likely have grown up in an orphanage. So most authors just seem to run with the inheritence idea, which I do think makes sense. However, obviously it's not the only possibility. Maybe he had an accumalitive fond from his parents sitting somewhere, and the moment he turned 18, he blew it all on expensive cars and motorcycles because there was no parental supervision to stop him, and now he has to work ANY jobs to make ends meet. Or maybe there's some truth to his jewelry thief days after all lol. All theoretically possible lol.

[utau-bowl]

Yoru Nakajima -DUALITY- Review

Usually I wouldn’t review two UTAUs that came from one request, but these upcoming two I’ll talk about here grew on me so much I just had to! The two are counterparts as well

This post was helped a ton by my friend SunGuardian524, who doesn’t have a tumblr but does have a ton of UTAU resources and voicebanks you can download.

This review was requested anonymously.

*Art by Moon Fighter

Hear a Sample of Yoru Nakajima -DUALITY-

Bio

Name: Yoru Nakajima Age: 16 Pronouns: She/They Gender: Out of order Personality: Yoru is confident, friendly, outgoing and sarcastic. Loves her friends and will hurt anyone who doesn't. Likes: Anime, manga, cosplay, slipknot, video games, beating her friends at Mario Kart, energy drinks, FNAF, large stuffed animals. Dislikes: Mint, Country Music, shitty headphones, heights, cherry tic tacs Voice Provider: King_Haze Oto: Moony/Moon Fighter

Official Site

Yoru has an official website on Wix. Their download is hosted on Bowlroll. The voicebank is 310 MB when unzipped and has full llsm files, but very few frq files.

First Impressions

Yoru has an androgynous voice type with a talking-style tone and an American accent. This voicebank was recorded out in the woods under an abandoned bridge, and that makes it a bit unique to talk about! All the omake sound files included are the voicer and their friend goofing off in the woods while recording and they’re pretty fun to listen to despite not being useful for songs.

Configuration

Yoru is a tripitch VCV recorded at A3, E4, and C#4, with 3 separate breath sounds and end breaths. The end breaths are quite long and loud, having their own samples, but they work fine. The samples are generally short and each syllable is pretty quick, which is fine. There are some extra sounds, but di and du sounds are excluded which seems like a strange oversight.

The oto seems to use a moresampler base since fu is aliased as ふ. Je is also written as ぢ for some reason? There are many numbered duplicates, especially for the ん samples. The preutterance and overlap tend to follow a ratio of 2:3, but the -CV samples tend to have way too much blank space and preutterance.

The samples probably have noise removal, but some still have wind and bird calls in the background. (The A3 -vu line has a crow cawing which is kinda funny) There are also a lot of mic pops, especially in the C#4 pitch. The volume is overall consistent, but BGm doesn’t seem to have been used, which is ideal for VCV.

There are some other minor mistakes in the VB, like a 'li'li'lu'la'le'li'le sample being recorded incorrectly, and the nya'nya line on the C#4 pitch being recorded twice. There are L samples, but they’re aliased in an unusual way.

It’s a bit difficult to find resamplers that mesh well with Yoru, at least for me? Moresampler doesn’t work on my PC and that’s clearly what they were meant to be used with.

My recommended flags: F0H10Y0g5

My recommended resamplers: TIPS, resampler.exe, moresampler

Final Thoughts

Yoru has some missteps and the quality suffers a bit due to the recording setup, but they have a nice voice overall and the VP/OTO maker did a good job!

Got any other UTAUs you want me to review? Send an ask!  

#utau review #agender #utau #utauloid #yoru nakajima #review #requested review #request

[failed-apple]

I posted 7,227 times in 2022

That's 7,227 more posts than 2021!

785 posts created (11%)

6,442 posts reblogged (89%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@walmart-satan

@vxmitbxnnie

@and-rue-meda

@toothsheeran

@depresseddarknesss

I tagged 1,139 of my posts in 2022

#apple rants - 541 posts

#apple asks - 50 posts

#save - 15 posts

#thanks for the ask💕 - 10 posts

#i hate it here - 9 posts

#apples gender stuff - 6 posts

#important - 5 posts

#/lyr - 4 posts

#same - 4 posts

#apples autism is showing - 4 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters (yep up the character limit PLEASE TUMBLR)

#dansa med oss klappa era händer gör som vi gör ta några seg åt vänster lyssna o lär missa inte schansen nu e vi här i karamelldansen uauaua

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

*binges*

1,448 notes - Posted July 17, 2022

#4

i hate that tiktok has turned autism into "im so quirky and slightly socially awkward, i eat with small spoons and walk around with t-rex hands". its a fucking disability and creating this narrative only furthers the stigma of the traits that actually affect peoples lives. making autism sound fun and relatable does absolutely nothing good. the only thing it will do is demonize autistic traits and create another "well youre not autistic cause thats not what autism looks like" exept this time its people with higher support needs who will get the most affected and i hate that

(edit: i didnt really word this correctly and idk if it really comes across in the way i meant but i definitely didnt mean that every autistic person only should show their struggles or even that autistic people owe anyone showing their struggles. autistic people should be able to show joy online and i, and other autistic people do relate to some of these memes and theres nothing wrong with that. my point was that i dont like that the word autistic is turning into meaning quirky and i did blame these tiktoks for it, while thats probably not right i do think that they contribute to this. again i didnt mean to put down other autistic people and im sorry if it came across this way. (i do however still stand by my original point and from what people said in the notes it seems like other people do as well so im gonna keep the original post up, just with this clarification))

1,610 notes - Posted October 5, 2022

#3

1,861 notes - Posted April 22, 2022

#2

me: *isnt scared of death, bugs, heights, snakes, gore etc.*

calories: *exists*

me:

6,776 notes - Posted June 1, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

go drink some water you bitch

Based on the fact that you're dehydrated!

17,543 notes - Posted April 16, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

eyy look at that ive posted a lot. and apparently i started this blog this year so thats cool i didnt know that

#tumblr2022 #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #apple rants #tw ed #<just in case someones going through the year in review tags

[reanimatedcourier]

How to Write Indigenous Characters Without Looking like a Jackass:

Update as of December 26th, 2020: I have added a couple new sections about naming and legal terms, as well as a bit of reading on the Cherokee Princess phenomenon.

Boozhoo (hello) Fallout fandom! I'm a card-carrying Anishinaabe delivering this rough guide about writing Indigenous characters because wow, do I see a lot of shit.

Let's get something out of the way first: Fallout's portrayal of Indigenous people is racist. From a vague definition of "tribal" to the claims of them being "savage" and "uncivilized" mirror real-world stereotypes used to dehumanize us. Fallout New Vegas' narrated intro has Ron Perlman saying Mr. House "rehabilitated" tribals to create New Vegas' Three Families. You know. Rehabilitate. As if we are animals. Top it off with an erasure of Indigenous people in the American Southwest and no real tribe names, and you've got some pretty shitty representation. The absence of Native American as a race option in the GECK isn't too great, given that two Native characters are marked "Caucasian" despite being brown. Butch Deloria is a pretty well-known example of this effect. (Addendum: Indigenous people can have any mix of dominant and recessive traits, as well as present different phenotypes. What bothers me is it doesn't accommodate us or mixed people, which is another post entirely.)

As a precautionary warning: this post and the sources linked will discuss racism and genocide. There will also be discussion of multiple kinds of abuse.

Now, your best approach will be to pick a nation or tribe and research them. However, what follows will be general references.

Terms that may come up in your research include Aboriginal/Native Canadian, American Indian/Native American, Inuit, Métis, and Mestizo. The latter two refer to cultural groups created after the discovery of the so-called New World. (Addendum made September 5th, 2020: Mestizo has negative connotations and originally meant "half breed" so stick with referring to your mixed Latine and Indigenous characters as mixed Indigenous or simply by the name of their people [Maya, Nahua].)

As a note, not every mixed person is Métis or Mestizo. If you are, say, Serbian and Anishinaabe, you would be mixed, but not Métis (the big M is important here, as it refers to a specific culture). Even the most liberal definition caps off at French and British ancestry alongside Indigenous (some say Scottish and English). Mestizo works the same, since it refers to descendants of Spanish conquistadors/settlers and Indigenous people.

Trouble figuring out whose land is where? No problem, check out this map.

Drawing

Don't draw us with red skin. It's offensive and stereotypical.

Tutorial for Native Skintones

Tutorial for Mixed Native Skintones

Why Many Natives Have Long Hair (this would technically fit better under another category, but give your Native men long hair!)

If You're Including Traditional Wear, Research! It's Out There

Languages

Remember, there are a variety of languages spoken by Indigenous people today. No two tribes will speak the same language, though there are some that are close and may have loan words from each other (Cree and Anishinaabemowin come to mind). Make sure your Diné (you may know them as Navajo) character doesn't start dropping Cree words.

Here's a Site With a Map and Voice Clips

Here's an Extensive List of Amerindian Languages

Keep in mind there are some sounds that have no direct English equivalents. But while we're at it, remember a lot of us speak English, French, Spanish, or Portuguese. The languages of the countries that colonized us.

Words in Amerindian languages tend to be longer than English ones and are in the format of prefix + verb + suffix to get concepts across. Gaawiin miskwaasinoon is a complete sentence in Anishinaabemowin, for example (it is not red).

Names

Surprisingly, we don't have names like Passing Dawn or Two-Bears-High-Fiving in real life. A lot of us have, for lack of better phrasing, white people names. We may have family traditions of passing a name down from generation to generation (I am the fourth person in my maternal line to have my middle name), but not everyone is going to do that. If you do opt for a name from a specific tribe, make sure you haven't chosen a last name from another tribe.

Baby name sites aren't reliable, because most of the names on there will be made up by people who aren't Indigenous. That site does list some notable exceptions and debunks misconceptions.

Here's a list of last names from the American census.

Indian Names

You may also hear "spirit names" because that's what they are for. You know the sort of mystical nature-related name getting slapped on an Indigenous character? Let's dive into that for a moment.

The concept of a spirit name seems to have gotten mistranslated at some point in time. It is the name Creator calls you throughout all your time both here and in the spirit world. These names are given (note the word usage) to you in a ceremony performed by an elder. This is not done lightly.

A lot of imitations of this end up sounding strange because they don't follow traditional guidelines. (I realize this has spread out of the original circle, but Fallout fans may recall other characters in Honest Hearts and mods that do this. They have really weird and racist results.)

If you're not Indigenous: don't try this. You will be wrong.

Legal Terms

Now, sometimes the legal term (or terms) for a tribe may not be what they refer to themselves as. A really great example of this would be the Oceti Sakowin and "Sioux". How did that happen, you might be wondering. Smoky Mountain News has an article about this word and others, including the history of these terms.

For the most accurate information, you are best off having your character refer to themselves by the name their nation uses outside of legislation. A band name would be pretty good for this (Oglala Lakota, for example). I personally refer to myself by my band.

Cowboys

And something the Fallout New Vegas fans might be interested in, cowboys! Here's a link to a post with several books about Black and Indigenous cowboys in the Wild West.

Representation: Stereotypes and Critical Thought

Now, you'll need to think critically about why you want to write your Indigenous character a certain way. Here is a comprehensive post about stereotypes versus nuance.

Familiarize yourself with tropes. The Magical Indian is a pretty prominent one, with lots of shaman-type characters in movies and television shows. This post touches on its sister tropes (The Magical Asian and The Magical Negro), but is primarily about the latter.

Say you want to write an Indigenous woman. Awesome! Characters I love to see. Just make sure you're aware of the stereotypes surrounding her and other Women of Color.

Word to the wise: do not make your Indigenous character an alcoholic. "What, so they can't even drink?" You might be asking. That is not what I'm saying. There is a pervasive stereotype about Drunk Indians, painting a reaction to trauma as an inherent genetic failing, as stated in this piece about Indigenous social worker Jessica Elm's research. The same goes for drugs. Ellen Deloria is an example of this stereotype.

Familiarize yourself with and avoid the Noble Savage trope. This was used to dehumanize us and paint us as "childlike" for the sake of a plot device. It unfortunately persists today.

Casinos are one of the few ways for tribes to make money so they can build homes and maintain roads. However, some are planning on diversifying into other business ventures.

There's a stereotype where we all live off government handouts. Buddy, some of these long-term boil water advisories have been in place for over twenty years. The funding allocated to us as a percentage is 0.39%: less than half a percent to fight the coronavirus. They don't give us money.

"But what about people claiming to be descended from a Cherokee princess?" Cherokee don't and never had anything resembling princesses. White southerners made that up prior to the Civil War. As the article mentions, they fancied themselves "defending their lands as the Indians did".

Also, don't make your Indigenous character a cannibal. Cannibalism is a serious taboo in a lot of our cultures, particularly northern ones.

Our lands are not cursed. We don't have a litany of curses to cast on white people in found footage films. Seriously. We have better things to be doing. Why on earth would our ancestors be haunting you when they could be with their families? Very egotistical assumption.

Indigenous Ties and Blood Quantum

Blood quantum is a colonial system that was initially designed to "breed out the Indian" in people. To dilute our bloodlines until we assimilated properly into white society. NPR has an article on it here.

However, this isn't how a vast majority of us define our identities. What makes us Indigenous is our connections (or reconnection) to our families, tribes, bands, clans, and communities.

Blood quantum has also historically been used to exclude Black Natives from tribal enrollment, given that it was first based on appearance. So, if you looked Black and not the image of "Indian" the white census taker had in his brain, you were excluded and so were your descendants.

Here are two tumblrs that talk about Black Indigenous issues and their perspectives. They also talk about Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people of Australia.

However, if you aren't Indigenous, don't bring up blood quantum. Don't. This is an issue you should not be speaking about.

Cherokee Princess Myth

"Princess" was not a real position in any tribe. The European idea of monarchy did not suddenly manifest somewhere else. The closest probable approximation may have been the daughter of a chief or other politically prominent person. But princess? No.

Here is an article talking about possible origins of this myth. Several things are of note here: women from other tribes may have bee shoved under this label and the idea of a "Cherokee Princess" had been brought up to explain the sudden appearance of a brown-skinned (read: half Black) family member.

For a somewhat more in depth discussion of why, specifically, this myth gets touted around so often, Timeline has this piece.

Religion

Our religions are closed. We are not going to tell you how we worship. Mostly because every little bit we choose to share gets appropriated. Smudging is the most recent example. If you aren't Indigenous, that's smoke cleansing. Smudging is done in a specific way with ceremonies and prayers.

Now, a lot of us were forcibly converted. Every residential school was run by Christians. So plenty of us are Catholic, Baptist, Anglican, Lutheran, etc. Catholicism in Latin America also has influence from the Indigenous religions in that region.

Having your Indigenous character pray or carry rosaries wouldn't be a bad thing, if that religion was important to them. Even if they are atheist, if they lived outside of a reserve or other Indigenous communities, they might have Christian influences due to its domination of the Western world.

Settler Colonialism and the White Savior Trope

Now we've come to our most painful section yet. Fallout unintentionally has an excellent agent of settler-colonialism, in particular the Western Christian European variety, in Caesar's Legion and Joshua Graham.

(Addendum: Honest Hearts is extremely offensive in its portrayal of Indigenous people, and egregiously shows a white man needing to "civilize" tribals and having to teach them basic skills. These skills include cooking, finding safe water, and defending themselves from other tribes.)

Before we dive in, here is a post explaining the concept of cultural Christianity, if you are unfamiliar with it.

We also need to familiarize ourselves with The White Man's Burden. While the poem was written regarding the American-Philippine war, it still captures the attitudes toward Indigenous folks all over the world at the time.

As this article in Teen Vogue points out, white people like to believe they need to save People of Color. You don't need to. People of Color can save themselves.

Now, cultural Christianity isn't alone on this side of the pond. Writer Teju Cole authored a piece on the White Savior Industrial Complex to describe mission trips undertaken by white missionaries to Africa to feed their egos.

Colonialism has always been about the acquisition of wealth. To share a quote from this paper about the ongoing genocide of Indigenous peoples: "Negatively, [settler colonialism] strives for the dissolution of native societies. Positively, it erects a new colonial society on the expropriated land base—as I put it, settler colonizers come to stay: invasion is a structure not an event. In its positive aspect, elimination is an organizing principal of settler-colonial society rather than a one-off (and superseded) occurrence. The positive outcomes of the logic of elimination can include officially encouraged miscegenation, the breaking-down of native title into alienable individual freeholds, native citizenship, child abduction, religious conversion, resocialization in total institutions such as missions or boarding schools, and a whole range of cognate biocultural assimilations. All these strategies, including frontier homicide, are characteristic of settler colonialism. Some of them are more controversial in genocide studies than others." (Positive, here, is referring to "benefits" for the colonizers. Indigenous people don't consider colonization beneficial.)

An example of a non-benefit, the Church Rock disaster had Diné children playing in radioactive water so the company involved could avoid bad publicity.

Moving on, don't sterilize your Indigenous people. Sterilization, particularly when it is done without consent, has long been used as a tool by the white system to prevent "undesirables" (read, People of Color and disabled people) from having children. Somehow, as of 2018, it wasn't officially considered a crime.

The goal of colonization was to eliminate us entirely. Millions died because of exposure to European diseases. Settlers used to and still do separate our children from us for reasons so small as having a dirty dish in the sink. You read that right, a single dirty dish in your kitchen sink was enough to get your children taken and adopted out to white families. This information was told to me by an Indigenous social work student whose name I will keep anonymous.

It wasn't until recently they made amendments to the Indian Act that wouldn't automatically render Indigenous women non-status if they married someone not Indigenous. It also took much too long for Indigenous families to take priority in child placement over white ones. Canada used to adopt Indigenous out to white American families. The source for that statement is further down, but adoption has been used as a tool to destroy cultures.

I am also begging you to cast aside whatever colonialist systems have told you about us. We are alive. People with a past, not people of the past, which was wonderfully said here by Frank Waln.

Topics to Avoid if You Aren't Indigenous

Child Separation. Just don't. We deserve to remain with our families and our communities. Let us stay together and be happy that way.

Assimilation schools. Do not bring up a tool for cultural genocide that has left lasting trauma in our communities.

W/ndigos. I don't care that they're in Fallout 76. They shouldn't be. Besides, you never get them right anyway.

Sk/nwalkers. Absolutely do not. Diné stories are not your playthings either.

I've already talked about drugs and alcohol. Do your research with compassion and empathy in mind. Indigenous people have a lot of pain and generational trauma. You will need to be extremely careful having your Indigenous characters use drugs and alcohol. If your character can be reduced to their (possible) substance abuse issues, you need to step back and rework it. As mentioned in Jessica Elm's research, remember that it isn't inherent to us.

For our final note: remember that we're complex, autonomous human beings. Don't use our deaths to further the stories of your white characters. Don't reduce us to some childlike thing that needs to be raised and civilized by white characters. We interact with society a little differently than you do, but we interact nonetheless.

Meegwetch (thank you) for reading! Remember to do your research and portray us well, but also back off when you are told by an Indigenous person.

This may be updated in the future, it depends on what information I come across or, if other Indigenous people are so inclined, what is added to this post.

#fallout 3 #fallout 4 #fallout 76 #fallout new vegas #fallout 1 #fallout 2 #fallout: new vegas #ozhibii'ige

[reluctant-mandalore]

Only You (Crosshair x Fem!Reader)

You go out to 79′s with the Bad Batch in hopes of impressing the sniper who you currently hold feelings for. Though a pleasant evening turns sour quickly due to some misunderstandings and your own insecurities. Thankfully everything turns out right in the end when Crosshair finally decides to show you how he really feels. 

Request: Hello there. I would like to make a request for a fic about Crosshair. He is absolutely awesome and i would love to see a fic where reader is a full bodies woman and somewhat insecure, with a crush on Crosshair. But she thinks he would never fall for someone like her because there are enough beautiful girls around, only ... Crosshair being Crosshair does love her / has a crush on her and finds his way to make that very clear to her. Some kissing action would be great ( i love the guy afterall ). I am not sure if this is the right way to ask it, i am normally not on tumblr but only on AO3 :D

Warnings: Fluff, pinning/yearning, alcohol consumption implied (but left ambiguous so reader can imagine they’re drinking whatever) insecurities, misunderstandings, a dash of angst, kissing, lots of it, written with full figured/plus sized reader in mind, not beta read. 

Word Count: 5259

Pairing: Crosshair x Fem!Reader, Plus-Size/full figured!Reader

a/n: Hello y’all! First up on my request to do list was this one and it was very important to me to finish! It was requested by @ladykatakuri​ who has been super supportive of my work for a while now! Thank you so much for the request and especially thank you for all your lovely comments on ao3! Your support means so much to me!! I cant thank you enough, and I hope you enjoy this! I won’t lie I got a bit carried away with writing this one because of how much fun I was having with it. I also related a lot to the reader as being plus sized myself. So its longer then expected (its probably my longest written request at the time of posting it lol) but I think its more enjoyable this way tbh. Anyway enjoy! 

The cantina had been packed that night—79’s usually was after all—as the clones of the Republic loved this bar like no other. Though this had also meant that you had found yourself struggling to find the group which had invited you out that night. Your eyes having shifted nervously through the crowd, as you had searched around the room for them. All while doing your best to not bump into, or bother, any of the other clones and folk enjoying their own nights out.

“Over here! We’re over here!”  

The sound of Wrecker’s booming and cheerful voice calling out to you had thankfully cut that search of yours short. As soon you had found yourself breathing a sigh of relief when finally spotting the Bad Batch huddled around one of the far off tables. The sight of the large clone waving you down excitedly—and the sound of Echo telling him to be quiet—making you giggle as you had made your way over to them.

The Bad Batch had seemed rather lively tonight. Their last mission must have gone down well for them to be celebrating so easily and without worry. Even Tech had been out tonight—laughing and joking with his brothers—as you found that you couldn’t remember the last time he had come out with everyone instead of insisting on staying at base.

“Wow look at you!” Wrecker had said while taking the sight of the outfit you had worn tonight, as he had stood from his seat to pull up a chair for you to join them. “Aren’t you just the prettiest lady around... You look great!”

A few of the others at the table had murmured in agreement, and you had felt your skin warm at some of their compliments while you had taken your seat. The outfit you had worn had been one of your nicer ones, as you had wanted to maybe get the attention of a certain sniper tonight. Though unlike the others he hadn’t said much since you had joined them.  

“You think so too, right?” Wrecker had said while nudging into the side of his brother—clearly you weren’t the only one who had noticed the sniper’s lack of words. “Doesn’t she look pretty Cross?”

It hadn’t been until then where you had finally become brave enough to properly look at the sniper. Your heart fluttering at the sight of his brown eyes being fixated onto you in return. His gaze lingering over your form, as he had allowed himself a long roam over your body before he had locked his gaze with yours again. A pleased hum eventually leaving him when he had broken the contact to go take a sip of his drink.

“Yeah she does…” Crosshair's voice had trailed off as he had paused briefly in thought—the rim of the cup hovering just before his lips—as he had made eye contact with you once more. His steady gaze sending another spark of heat to flicker inside of you. “She always does.”

You couldn’t help the smile that had formed across your lips at his words. “Thank you Crosshair.”

Wrecker had practically beamed while looking between you both. His brows raised with a wide grin, as he had sent a very obvious wink your way. It had been clear what exactly he had been trying to do—after all—the crush you had on the sniper wasn’t really a secret among the others. In fact it had become increasingly apparent just how much the others were doing their best to help set you both up. They had even made sure to place you right next to him this evening, and the last time you had hung out with them, they had purposely made sure to give you both some alone time.  

Though whether or not Crosshair had noticed his brothers attempts to get you two together had never been very clear. If he did he had never made it obvious to any of you—something which you couldn’t help but allow to cause some doubt in your mind. As it made you wonder if maybe he did know, but just didn’t have the heart to let you down. He had been rather friendly with you most times. But friendliness didn’t necessarily mean someone held romantic feelings towards you, and that was something you had to remember the hard way most times.

Having an unrequited crush was never truly fun after all, and in your case you always tried to not get too hopeful. There were many other women out there who probably suited him more—one’s who were more likely to his taste. Women who were more beautiful—and maybe smaller—than you could ever hope to be.

You had always tried to remind yourself that everyone was beautiful regardless of their size, but that didn’t stop some of your own insecure thoughts from rising every now and then. Being a full bodied woman brought many heartaches—and though you desperately hoped it wouldn’t be the case with him—you couldn’t help but think that Crosshair would be the next.

“Alright I’m going to get us another round now—what do you want?” Hunter had specifically asked the last part towards you and in return you had given him your drink order. “Got it. I’ll be back.”

“Don’t get distracted like last time.” Tech had said without looking from his datapad.

“We’ll die of dehydration if he does.” Echo had added with a wide grin, one that had held a teasing glint within its shine. “And I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not have that happen.”

The sergeant had only grumbled at his brother's words—a roll of his eyes soon following—as he had stood from his seat. A few of the others laughter sounding out while he had made his way over to the bar. Though soon they had all settled again to begin chatting among themselves.

“Distracted?” You had questioned with a raised brow while looking over at the sniper to your side. “Do I even want to know?”

Crosshair had let out a huffed laugh at that, and naturally he had leaned himself closer to you while he took another sip from his drink. His thigh brushing against yours sending a tingling sensation to roam through you as he spoke. “Trust me, you don’t.”

When Hunter had finally returned with the drinks the others had cheered, and even you had found yourself smiling along with them. You all had sat there together for a while, talking and catching up with one another. They had told you about their last mission mostly. Telling you about how well it had gone and what they figured may be coming up next for them. Though you had found it hard to focus on the others words at times with how close Crosshair had been next to you. His close presence a constant reminder in the back of your mind, as you had tried to keep your heart from jumping out of your chest at each brush of him against you.

Crosshair of course had seemed to be unaffected by the same gestures. Every brush of your leg and touch of your arm almost seeming natural to him, as he had appeared to remain calm while sat chatting with you all. The only sign of him ever knowing of your closeness being that of the small smile he had sent your way at one point. His shoulder having leaned into yours, as he had whispered a sly and funny remark about something the others had said. A shared secret just for you both. The humour it had held making you laugh quietly, before it had been forgotten completely thanks to the feeling of his warm breath of his own chuckle against your ear.

Eventually though, after some time of chatting among everyone, a few of the others had begun to dwindle away to go do their own things.

Echo had gone off to talk to some of his brothers he recognized from the 501st, and from where you sat you could see that he had been in a deep conversation with Captain Rex by this point. Wrecker on the other hand had found himself off drinking and arm wrestling with some of the ‘regs’. Hunter had joined in at some point, not really participating himself, but more so watching as the larger clone continued on his win streak. Every now and then patting him proudly on the shoulder as he took down another one.

“AHAHA! Take that reg!” Wrecker had cheered before he had grinned over his shoulder had Hunter—who in turn had only chuckled and patted his shoulder proudly again—before he had looked back out to the group of clones gathered around them. “Alright, who's next? Come on—don’t be shy!”

The sight of the whole situation had made you laugh to yourself, and you couldn’t help but watch as Wrecker had seemed to win against every clone he went against. “They seem to be having fun.”

“Too much fun really.” Tech had said without looking up. He had remained with Crosshair and you at the table, idly chatting with you mostly, as the sniper had seemed to be quite happy with just sipping away at his drink now. Though honestly you weren’t too sure how to think about his joyful silence in the end. “They’re quite loud, and they’re making it hard for me to focus on these calculations.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have brought that datapad of yours to a bar where you’re supposed to be socializing.” Crosshair had said while wearing one of his unimpressed looks. There had been an undeniable hint of amusement to it though, and you had found it to be more teasing than anything.

“Oh yes, because you’ve been so chatty tonight yourself Crosshair.” Tech had replied with a huff  and the shake of his head. “You know it wouldn’t hurt you to talk with us a bit more than just the odd grunt or few words whispered into her ear.”

The sniper had only seemed to frown at his words and soon you watched as the two brothers began to bicker. It had been very light hearted though, and you couldn’t help but smile at seeing their rather petty argument taking place before you. From Tech’s sarcastic remarks to Crosshair’s sly replies—the banter between the two had been quite entertaining. Enough so that it had made you laugh quietly to yourself, before you had gone back to watching the arm wrestling taking place just a few tables over. And lucky you had looked back just in time to see Wrecker win himself another round.

A tap on your shoulder had brought you from them though, and had made you glance over to the sniper. As always the expression he had worn never did show what he truly been thinking, and soon you had found yourself caught staring into his beautiful brown eyes. His gaze had held a feeling to them that you couldn’t quite place, but still couldn’t help and find yourself drawn in at the sight of them. You could get lost in his eyes for hours if he’d let you, but you knew you both didn’t have time for such things.

“Want another drink?” He had finally asked—effectively breaking the trance you had been in—as he motioned his head towards the bar. “I’ll grab you one.”

“Oh sure! I’d love that Cross.”

The sniper had let out a pleased hum at your answer, and the small smile that had briefly found itself on his lips hadn’t been lost on you in the slightest. Though soon he had been glancing over at Tech to ask the same of him. Who in turn hadn’t really looked up from his datapad at his brother’s prompting. The sight of which had only made the other clone roll his eyes and made you giggle as he knocked on the table to grab Tech’s attention. It had worked of course, and the other clone had snapped his head up to see what the sniper had wanted.

“Oh! I’m fine for right now.” Tech had said upon seeing Crosshair motion his head towards the bar again—his question having been clear even without voicing it to him. “Thank you though Crosshair.”

The Sniper had merely hummed again at his answer, before he had taken a toothpick out from the pack in his pocket to place in his mouth. When he had finally stood he had brushed a gentle hand over your shoulder, and you had felt yourself grow warm again at the contact. He had seemed to notice of course, and as he had left you both, another ghost of a smile had found itself forming on his lips.

“I’ll be back.”

You couldn’t help but watch him as he made his way over to the bar. A grin plastered to your face the entire time you did. He had ended up leaning against the bar’s surface as he waited, glancing back at you, as he chewed on the toothpick in his mouth. The smile he had sent your way had made your heart flutter again. Though all too soon he had looked back to ask the bartender for your drinks.  

“You two seem to be getting along quite well.” Tech had said out of blue as he had finally glanced up at you from the tablet he had been working on. “The relationship between you both seems to be progressing smoothly.”

“You think so?”

“Positive.” Tech had reaffirmed with a nod and a small smile on his face, as he had adjusted the goggles he wore before looking back down to his datapad. “It's undeniable that the attraction between the both of you is only growing. I’d be surprised if you weren’t dating by the end of the week.”

“Oh I wouldn’t say it's progressed that much Tech.”

His words had only seemed to make you beam to yourself regardless of your reply. A new bubble of happiness having brewed in your core and flourishing strongly to help push away your earlier doubt. You couldn’t help but think that maybe you did have a chance with the sniper. Everyone else seemed to think so after all. A new hopeful feeling now buzzing inside of you, as you found yourself glancing back at the bar where you knew Crosshair had still been waiting. Now hoping to share another smile with the man.

Though when doing so you had felt your heart drop almost instantly. That new surge of hope having died just as fast as it had come. The clear sight of the sniper surrounded by a group of pretty women had come into your view, and when seeing it you couldn’t help the knot of nerves from forming in your gut.

The group of them had been clearly flirting with the sniper. One had even twirled her hair while her fingers had trailed down from his shoulder to his forearm, resting it there as the women laughed at something he had said. Their giggles and the flirtatious glint in their eyes had left a sour taste in your mouth. Your mood dropping the more you had watched, though you couldn’t seem to pull your eyes from the scene.

You should have known this would have happened, but of course you had let your hopeful crush get the better of you again.

Suddenly you found yourself not being able to handle the sight of it anymore, and even sooner you had stood from your seat. Now doing your best to remain calm as you collected your things from the table. Soon downing the last bit of your drink in the process.

“You’re leaving?” Tech had questioned when he had noticed you getting up. “I thought you were going to stay with Crosshair a bit longer.”

“Yeah I was, but I think I’m just going to go home now.” You couldn’t help but glance back to where he was by the bar. The group of women had only seemed to increase in numbers since you had looked last. “I don’t… I’m just tired from work I think.”

Tech had visibly frowned at your reasoning, clearly not believing you, and you couldn’t help but see him glance towards where the Sniper had found himself caught up. A brief look of realization had crossed his features then, and you found yourself looking away from him quickly. You found yourself not wanting to see the pity in the eyes that you knew just had to be there. Everyone always seemed to pity women like you, and honestly you didn’t think your heart could handle anymore pain at that moment.

“Can you tell the others good night for me?” You had asked him quietly before he could really say anything to sway you to stay.

“Yes of course.” He had mumbled out, clearly unsure of what exactly to say in the end anyway, as he had bitten his cheek in worry. “Do you want one of us to take you home?”

You had shook your head at his question, but had smiled in appreciation of the offer regardless. Tech had and the others had always looked out for you, but tonight you think their kind gestures would only make you more sad. “No, I'm good. Thank you Tech.”

“Crosshair isn’t always good at expressing himself, you know?” Tech had said suddenly before you could completely leave, though it had seemed more to himself than anything. “I… There must be a reasonable explanation.”

“I’m sure you’re right, Tech. You always are.” You had said softly, sending one less smile towards the man as you patted his arm reassuringly. You didn’t really have the heart to argue with him about it, and instead just wanted to get home so you could forget this night ever happened. Maybe you could even manage to forget about the crush you had held for the sniper too. “Goodnight Tech.”

Tech had smiled back at you—giving your hand on his shoulder a squeeze—as he mumbled his own goodnight and farewell back to you. After pulling away you had found yourself wandering through the crowd again as you made your escape. You hadn’t even paused to take one last look at Crosshair on your way out—even though you had desperately wanted to—instead choosing to not stop walking until you were back safely in your apartment. Your back pressed against the door of your home, as you tried your best to keep your heart from breaking more than it already had.

Managing to flick on the lights, you had dropped your things carelessly to the floor, and had made your way to the refresher. You couldn’t help but look at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes picking out every imperfection of yourself within seconds of doing so. This search of yours soon bringing you to the edge of tears.

While at times you found that you could love yourself for who you were, there were others where you wished you didn’t look this way. And this moment had been one of those times where you craved to be considered beautiful by society's standards. Things just seemed like it would go so much easier that way. So much simpler.

The sound of a knock at your door had shocked you out of your slump before you could dwell on it more though, and instantly your head had snapped towards it. Confusion had fogged your mind, as you had found yourself wondering if you were just hearing things while in your sorry state. It was late in the night of course, and you weren’t exactly expecting any guests after all.

The second knock had proved this theory of yours wrong though, and within seconds of it you were wiping your tears while trying to make yourself presentable enough to answer it.

A third knock sounding had only made you hurry more, and you had allowed yourself a small curse under your breath on your way over. “I’ll be there in a minute!”

Finally going and pressing the button to open your door you smiled to greet the person only to have it drop instantly. Your heart thundering loudly in your chest at the sight of the sniper standing before you once more. His helmet tucked under his arm, as he chewed on the toothpick in his mouth with a frown.

The two of you had stared at each other for a long while, both clearly unsure of what to say or really where to begin. His eyes had tried searching yours, but you had broken the content before he could get a good look at the pain you held within them. The tears you had tried to hold back threatening to fall again in a matter of seconds while standing before him.

“Are you going to let me in?” His voice had been soft as he spoke—gentle sounding in a way—almost as if he was afraid you would crumble under the weight of it. “Or are you just going to keep staring at me?”

“Oh uh of course!”

His words had shocked you back, and you had allowed him space to enter into your home. He had done so rather quietly, only really mumbling a quick thanks as he had moved past you. In the process he had placed his helmet on the table in the main room before moving to stand before you again. His arms now crossed over his chest as you both gazed at each other.

Another drawn out silence had formed between you two, as Crosshair seemed to stare at you questionably for a long moment. He seemed to be thinking to himself. Or maybe he had just been waiting for you to speak first. If that was the case it wouldn’t be happening of course, as instead you had just decided to go get him a drink. Soon turning around to try and escape into your kitchen in hopes of avoiding the awkward situation some more.

“Why’d you leave so early?”

The sniper’s question had left you at a shock for words, and you had nearly tripped over yourself at the sound of it. He had always been one to get straight to the point when he saw it necessary. He had never been one to really dance around things, and it seemed like you wouldn’t be able to avoid this so easily.

Not with him at least.

“I was just... tired. That’s all.” It hadn’t been the best cover, nor the best phrasing, but you had hoped the response would satisfy the sniper. Though of course things could never be that easy, especially when it came to Crosshair.

“Liar.” He had huffed to himself, as he had chewed on the toothpick in his mouth and watched you pout at his accusation. “Now tell me, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“No, nothing happened.” You had forced a smile in his direction, hoping even more that the sight of it would get him to leave it alone, though from the look of his frown it was still an unlikely outcome. “I’m fine Crosshair. Really.”

“Stop lying to me.”

“I’m not.” You had shot back quickly—almost too quickly really.

“Yes you are.” He had sighed bitterly, allowing himself to run a hand through his hair. A clear and new frown had formed across his lips, but rather than the usual irritated scowl, you had found it to be oddly sad looking. The sight of which you had not been used too. “I… I can always tell when you’re lying to me.”

Crosshair had always been perceptive in a sense. Sometimes you swore he could read you like no other person could. Which at times had seemed like a blessing, and others a curse. He had waited then for you to speak. Though when you had tried you had found you couldn’t. The words you needed to tell him refusing to leave you, as the sniper had only seemed to get more worried.

In a way you had wanted to tell him how you felt. A part inside of you wanted to get it out in the open so you both could just move past it. Maybe even laugh at how silly it all was. But as always you couldn’t seem to bring yourself to confess your feelings. Instead choosing to keep them bottled inside.

Luckily, or maybe unluckily, it didn’t take Crosshair long to roughly piece together everything.

“Ah so Tech was right then.” He had murmured, as he had looked away from you almost shyly then. “You really… You really don’t know how I feel. Do you?”

“What?” You had asked in a quiet voice. A hint of hopefulness finding its way through. “Feel about what?”

“I thought it was obvious. I really thought you knew.” He had seemed to be talking more to himself rather than you at the moment. It had almost seemed like he was trying to piece together his thoughts, as he had removed the toothpick from his mouth to flick it off somewhere onto your floor. He had looked at you again after that, though no words had left him at first. The lack of which had only made him run another nervous hand through his hair as he had looked away again. “Kriff, I'm not good at this.”

“What are you talking about Cross?”

Crosshair had looked back to you again. His eyes searching your own for a long moment before he had finally stepped a bit closer. Close enough so that his lips had tauntingly brushed over yours—as he had cupped your cheek gently in his hand—before pulling you in for a brief kiss. It had been short, but sweet, and you had found yourself standing frozen in place at the shock of it. Not really expecting it, and finding yourself too surprised to really react properly to it at first.

Though in your defense he had pulled away before you really could.

“What? Still not clear enough?” He had after some time of you not moving from your spot. The teasing tone to his words quickly morphing into worry at having possibly overstepped some boundaries. “Or do you… do you just not feel the same?”

At his last few words he had gone to move away from you completely, though you had stopped him before he could. The grip you had on his arms only pulling him back close, as you had tried to form some sort of reply. No words had ever come though, so instead you had decided to try and mirror his earlier actions. Your lips moving forward to go brush against his in a kiss, as you had felt him nearly gasp at the realization.

“Crosshair…”

He had met your lips again then. It had been another soft and gentle kiss. One that had your lips molding with his almost perfectly, as the hold he held on you had only tightened. You had almost forgotten to breathe again with how lost you had found yourself in it. But soon the two of you would once more pull away from one another, though you both hadn’t moved too far away.  

“You know you really do look pretty in this.” He had hummed out quietly, as he pressed a kiss to your temple. His fingers now toying with the fabric of your outfit with clear interest, while the hint of a smirk played on his lips. “You always look pretty though of course.”

His words had made you laugh, but there had still been a drop of doubt inside of you, and you couldn’t help voice it to him. “You could get any girl you want.”

“I don’t want just anyone.” The words had left him with an air of confidence and ease, like it had been the most easiest confession for him of the night. “The only one I want is you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.” He had said it like it had been the most obvious thing in existence. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I mean look at me Cross.” You had said while pulling back from him a bit, as your hand now gestured vaguely to yourself. “There are women who are far more beautiful than me and more…well you know. They’re thinner and prettier than me. A lot of men don’t want someone like me.”

Crosshair’s grip had tightened around you at your words, and the usual frown that he wore had returned to his features as he gazed down to you. Though rather than the bite of anger it usually held, you had found it to have a hint of worry in its depth instead. A feeling of love coming through in the end.

“I don’t know who is filling your head with thoughts like that.” He had said as he had pulled you in for a hug. “But you’re beautiful, and I’ve always thought so. No one compares to you... No one.”

“Not even those girls at the bar?” You had asked without thought and instantly you had felt yourself grow embarrassed. You hadn’t meant to let it slip out that way, but it had, and Crosshair seemed determined to sooth your worries regardless of it.

“Annoying is what they were.” He scuffed out with a clear look of irritation at speaking of them, though the fondness he had reserved for you had remained. His fingers rubbing gently along your arms to help calm you. “They wouldn't leave me alone no matter how much I told them to.”  

You couldn’t help the feeling of relief bubbling through you at his words, and suddenly you almost felt like you could take on the whole Galaxy if asked to. “I guess I can’t really blame them—you are rather attractive after all.”

“Oh what's this? You think I’m attractive?”

Another flush of a shy warmth had spread through you at the sight of the sniper’s teasing smirk, and you couldn’t help but look away from him. He had chuckled at your reaction though, and had cupped your chin with his hand to bring it towards him again. Another kiss soon finding itself on your lips. He just couldn’t seem to stop kissing you it seemed.

This one had been longer than the others, though more rougher as well, and soon one kiss from him had turned into many. His lips only ever pulling back from yours enough to allow yourselves a few breaths before diving in again. Each kiss that he had stolen from your lips becoming more needy and heated as the time ticked away from you both. He had nearly devoured you whole within that moment. His kisses leaving a feeling of desire that would be sure to follow you for the rest of your days.

“I mean it, you know?” He had said as you two had paused briefly in between your kisses to catch your breaths properly. His eyes gazing into your own, as he brushed a thumb against your warm cheek. “I think you’re beautiful, and there’s no one else I want... All I want is you.”

“Only me?”

Your question had a teasing hint to it, though there had still been that doubt. The sound of which had made Crosshair smile. A genuine smile. One that you knew had been rare to see, and one you would remember for many days together to come. His own reply a steady reminder of how he had felt for you, and would continue to feel for you as long as you allowed him.

“Only you.”

#crosshair x reader #crosshair #the bad batch #tbb crosshair x reader #tbb crosshair #the bad batch fanfic #the bad batch crosshair #crosshair tbb #crosshair tbb x reader #request #my fics #fanfic #star wars #star wars fanfic

[allofthefeelings]

What do you think about Natasha and yelena's relation? I mean yelena has subconsciously accepted her as sister long ago even if she is angry with her now but what about Natasha? Does she think her as sibling or as a mission partner sorts with some underlying respect

Oh man, so my opinion on this basically did a 180 when we got the "it was real to me!" trailer, because I'd been assuming to that point that Yelena and Nat were in opposition, and they’d all considered the family thing bullshit. But it turns out it’s a lot more complicated than that!

And just to head this off at the pass I am most definitely making excessive assumptions, especially based on trailers- I keep thinking of the Winter Soldier trailer that used some really key lines completely out of context to make it seem like the story was pretty drastically different from what it ended up being- and it makes me hesitate to speculate, because all we need is a few “are you ready for the world to see you as you really are” and everything is compeletely off.

But what is Tumblr for if not speculating baselessly?

So, okay. On the one hand we have Yelena’s “it was real to me” and Alexei’s “family back together at last” and Alexei calling Yelena “honey,” all of which indicate they did have that closeness at some point, and that’s definitely what they want us to expect- they keep talking about it as a family movie- but the Kimmel clip of Melina saying they were only together for three years and Nat’s agreement with her indicates that ‘family’ isn’t quite right either. Or that it’s true for some of them and not others. Or that, at minimum, it’s a LOT more complicated.

We also know that it’s a story about surviving abuse, and I don’t have a firm grasp yet on if they’re telling a familial abuse story or an institutional abuse story. I am SURE I’ve posted before about how much I want this to be a story about toxic families, and how even after you’re grown up you can fall into the same awful patterns, but I can’t tell anymore how likely that is.

(As we get more information I’m so excited because it is so relevant to my interests but also the amount of reasonable predictions naturally lessens. Like PROBABLY Nat’s not running away with the soul stone anymore EVEN THOUGH I STILL WANT THAT TO BE PART OF THE STORY. And I can’t remember the basis of my original speculation that the entire movie was people reminiscing at Nat’s funeral but that seems unlikely as well.)

I’m getting away from the point, sorry.

If this is a story about familial abuse, I think there might be an aspect of who was the golden child and who was the scapegoat, and if that does happen, I’m not sure which was Yelena and which was Natasha, but I think either way I think it becomes fascinating. Who benefited from how things were working, and were they really benefits? Who was harmed, and how? Yelena clearly felt abandoned when things fell apart, but did Natasha? I feel like in the present day she sees Yelena as an ally- albeit one she gets into a brutal fight with before they get drinks- but how did tween Nat see it? And what did Alexei and Melina expect from them? Because I feel like that’s the crux that I’m missing for figuring out how they relate to each other.

And the thing that makes it hard is that each possibility is awful, and by awful I mean fantastic for me, a person for whom this is basically heroin in narrative form. Did Yelena inhabit an idealized childhood young enough that she believed it, while Natasha was just old enough to be struggling for how she was ~Working~? Was Natasha the ideal child spy and Yelena always trying desperately to be as good as her and wondering why she couldn’t make their (fake) parents happy? Or was it split, was Alexei buying in to the situation and all the fuck in with Yelena while Melina was distanced and seeing it as a business venture and Natasha followed suit and there was constant friction?

Literally all of these lead to absolute misery and the fact that the Avengers, for all their terrible problems, have been the comfort in Nat’s hurt/comfort this whole time. And that’s TERRIBLE and I LOVE IT.

And I kind of love that we’re 13.5 months past the original premiere date, 25 days from the real one, and we still don’t know just what to think, except that whatever is between Nat and Yelena is a lot more complicated than anyone could have dreamed looking at ‘Natalie Rushman’ in Iron Man 2.

#allofthereplies #rooskaya-belova15 #Black Widow movie #Black Widow #Natasha & Yelena #Natasha Romanoff #Yelena Belova #cw: child abuse

[darthmarrsgf]

monday night tumblr fic

or: big game hunting for fun and friendship

i love qyzen. i was so jazzed to do his alliance recruitment mission with my consular because we're buds, and this resulted. (more theron/consular. i'm being boring but this is what i have the most written/unpublished for, and also, this is Very Scary to me, so i'm easing into posting, lol.) unbeta'ed as always; probably repeated words without realizing which is one of my biggest personal demons.

~~~

“Caf?”

Sohlara responded with a single raised eyebrow.

“Fine. There’s a little whiskey in there, too.” Theron rolled his eyes as the Jedi huffed out a laugh and turned back to scan the landscape with a pair of downright antique-looking macrobinoculars. “It’s really not as bad as you think.”

She hummed noncommittally. "Should I be worried about you drinking and shooting?”

“Nah. This is just enough to pretend you’re staying warm. Besides, I’ve shot my way out of a fight with a lot more alcohol in me.”

“I can't decide if that’s reassuring or not. Here,” Sohlara said, passing the binocs to Theron. “Due north.”

Theron tucked away the flask as he squinted into the viewfinder. “Big. Think Scorekeeper will approve?”

“We’re about to find out,” she replied, offering Theron a hand after smoothly moving to stand. “We’ll go on foot. If there are more around, I don’t want to draw their attention yet.”

Theron had to pick up his pace to catch up to the woman, who had already outpaced him with seemingly silent strides through the snow. Actually, he reasoned, they probably were silent.

“You probably could have talked him into coming without offering to hunt,” he observed as he reached her side.

She shrugged. “I know I could have. But he’s a respected warrior. It’s only fair that I prove I can regain my score, the same way he did. And hopefully, it will show his men that we're worth helping.”

“So when he calls you Herald—"

“Scorekeeper’s Herald. Qyzen was an old friend of my master’s. I assume you’ve heard that story?”

Theron nodded. Between his close affiliation with several members of the Order, his history in the SIS, and details Sohlara had mentioned herself over the years, Theron was familiar with the unexpected trials that had led to her designation as Barsen’thor.

“He was on Tython when Yuon first fell ill. He helped me without question, but he was captured.”

“Which is bad.” He remembered that much.

“It’s a forfeiture—worse than death. When I freed him, I convinced him that he should try to regain his score by helping me hunt Lord Vivicar.” Sohlara stepped deftly between boulders and snow drifts, moving quickly enough to avoid the beast’s gaze. “He determined that Scorekeeper chose me as her Herald to guide him through a second chance.”

“Well… he wasn’t wrong.”

“I won’t take for granted the trust he gave me, even as a Padawan. A soft thing.” The corner of her mouth quirked. “He has honor. It’s not exactly honor in the same way you or I might see it, but I do my best to respect it.”

“Herald, Barsen’thor, Commander... You’ve racked up quite a reputation.”

“You know what the Esh-ka called me?” She paused, peering around an enormous spire of ice with her binocs.

“I truly have no idea.”

Sohlara leaned toward Theron, expression deadly serious. “Silent Teeth,” she whispered, snapping her jaw shut centimeters from Theron’s face.

“Blast—" Theron flinched, rubbing his ear as Sohlara laughed quietly and turned back to face the tundra.

“They let me pick that one, though. Oh, and there was a group of Gree ambassador droids on Coruscant—I never thought being called a ‘black bisector’ could be such a compliment."

“A black—never mind. I don’t want to know.”

Theron mimicked Sohlara’s slow crouch as they edged their way from behind the boulder. The animal was just yards away, back turned to the pair as it crunched on the bones of some unfortunate, smaller creature with a cracking sound that ricocheted through the icy canyon.

Faster than Theron could blink, she rushed forward on feet bolstered by the momentum of the Force. He sighed—he hated when she did that, because it always took him an extra second to catch up. But he couldn’t help but admire her like this. As much as they both groused about the planet’s climate, Sohlara had seemed particularly at ease since they arrived on Hoth. Between reuniting with her old friend and spending time away from the constant pressures of the Alliance base, the Commander was clearly… lighter.

As he fired off impeccably aimed rounds at the beast, Theron reflected with a twinge of guilt. He should have been paying closer attention to the clear stress Sohlara was exhibiting. She was always getting onto Theron for working too late into the night, but when was the last time she’d been able to snatch more than a few uninterrupted hours to herself?

Theron closely monitored the fight, but Sohlara took the beast down with ease and a particularly theatrical flourish of her saber.

“When was the last time you went on vacation?” Theron asked, slipping his blasters back into their holsters as the Commander wrenched a square of the animal’s pelt from its body with brutal efficiency.

Sohlara blinked up at him, sending a sudden pang of longing through Theron's chest like lightning. He willed himself to commit as much of the moment to memory as he could—the bright pink of her cheeks, brought to the surface by the combination of exertion and Hoth's frigid wind; the strands of chestnut hair flattened against her forehead with sweat; the tingle of awareness at the base of his neck as the protective Force barrier she'd cast around them retreated into her body. Even now, seeing her so vibrant and full of life felt like a miracle after all the time he'd spent trying to forget the way her eyes sparkled when they met his own.

“A vacation? Besides the five years I spent as Arcann’s wall decor, I— No. Sometimes we would stay an extra night to rest if we passed through a big city, but I suppose I've never been on a real vacation.”

Theron stepped forward, letting his fingertips brush her shoulders as he leaned in close to her lips. “Let’s take one. When we get back. Even if it’s just a couple of days.”

Sohlara’s eyes drifted shut, just for a moment, and she swayed into Theron’s space. “What exactly about hunting predator animals for sport on a desolate ice planet inspired this?”

“Nothing to do with the ice ball,” Theron declared, moving out of the way so she could shove the trophy into the sack the hunters had provided. “Although seeing you fight is always sexy. I’m serious, Sohl. Lana is more than capable of handling things for a few days, and we should go while—"

Theron swallowed. He hadn’t meant to say that part out loud, but it was too late now. “While we still have the time.”

Her expression was soft as she turned to face Theron. “Okay,” she murmured, brushing a feather-light kiss over his lips before stepping toward the main trail.

“O— Wait. Okay?” Theron blinked in surprise.

“Okay. Where are you going to take me on vacation, Agent Shan?”

Theron grinned, jogging to close the distance between them. “Somewhere warm. Somewhere private.” He reached forward to brush his hand against her ass, smirking as she nearly stumbled. “Watch it.”

“Watch—" Sohlara jammed her shoulder into his. “You can apologize on our vacation.”

#swtor fic #swtor fanfiction #my fic #theron shan #theron shan/jedi consular #oc: sohlara #idk something about hoth just gets me #i always whine about the cold and YET #what can i say i'm a woman of mystery #or something #but yeah

[dayseternal-blog]

If you ever finish answering all of yours awaiting asks...

45 questions for you 👀

https://myaekingheart.tumblr.com/post/650107314353897472/fic-writer-ask-game

Lolllll BADLUCKBREBIS, you are so funny.

Inspiration and Reading Asks:

1. How long ago did you start reading fanfiction? Writing fanfiction?

It looks like I started writing in 2017. I've been reflecting recently on how there are so many regularly active writers now compared to in 2017-2018. It was the tail-end of some of my fave writer's activity within fandom. Utsus was posting less and less. The Tumblr NaruHina fandom seemed to disappear, a whole community of writers left for other things (matchaball, nekomamoru, magmawrites, cherryjutsu, spyder-m, tenney-shoes, eliphya, among others). 2018 was a very quiet year, but! I avidly read katarinahime and bunnyhoodlum's works! In 2019, quirrrky restarted things with NaruHina Week!

2. How do you spend your time when it comes to fanfiction? Are you primarily a fic reader, writer, or a perfect 50/50 split of both?

Recently I’m primarily a reader!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Because there's so many writers now!!!!!!!!

3. Are there any fics that inspired you to write what you do?

Yeah, let’s list them.  “A Special Friend” by agitosgirl inspired “Nightdreams.  “Medicine” by @grimmjowkurosakidrake​ inspired “White Lilies.  “Torch Song” by @mmmbuttery inspired “About You.”  The language in “Unless the World Were to End” by @bunny-hoodlum​ inspired the language in “That was the plan.”  “In Between Drinks” by @peppercornpress inspired “In Between Drinks NH.”

4. Link your three favorite fics right now.

“Operation: Bring Home Naruto” by Dragonwannabe - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Complete. Hinata's been assigned the mission of getting Naruto back home safely after his last dangerous assignment. But can she handle the undercover identity as his girlfriend that she’d been given without revealing her true feelings for him?

“The Mission” by Lunawraythe - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. It wasn't that Hinata never expected to work with Naruto, just never on a mission quite like this.

“The Loving Type” by @peppercornpresses - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. A few years have passed since the Fourth Shinobi War, in which...Rookie Nine steadily advances in rank. Naruto gets engaged. Hinata leaves Konoha. And Kakashi schemes for days.

5. What are your fanfic pet peeves? Do they have a huge effect on whether or not you decide to read something?

ahhh.  I do have quite a few pet peeves.  If the fic is Canon-Compliant or Canon-Divergent, I expect Naruto and Hinata to behave like Japanese people.  Say what you want, but the Naruto Universe is definitely Japanese in my book.  So that means no shoes in the house.  Nothing rattles me more than reading Hinata taking her sandals off before climbing into bed.  Like, what?  she was wearing her outdoor shoes indoors this whole time??

mmm... another pet peeve is when the writer describes Hinata in a kimono, but it sounds like an American Halloween costume, like the slutty version, instead of an actual kimono.

mmm... and the other big pet peeve I have is when it’s Hinata’s first time eating ramen because Naruto is showing her the wonders of ramen.  lol.  why.  how.  in what world would a Japanese person make it to their teenage years without ever eating ramen.

I have a bunch of other little pet peeves regarding Japanese culture in fanfics.  But in general, it doesn’t stop me from reading the fic if I'm already in the middle of it.  I’ll continue reading it and will probably recommend it to other people anyway. If I can tell based on the summary, then it's not for me, and I don't read it. If this makes anyone feel nervous about writing fanfiction, that's not my intention! I would also be happy to be a sensitivity reader if necessary.

6. How do you find new fic to read? Where do you primarily read fanfiction?

I primarily read fanfics on AO3 and ffnet.  I find new ones by constantly checking the Hyuuga Hinata/Uzumaki Naruto tag on AO3 or looking into a writer’s favorites list on ffnet.

7. Do you prefer to read short fics or long fics?

Short fics.

8. How often do you reblog/comment on fics that you like?

I reblog pretty often. I don't comment as often as I used to😕 I used to comment on every fic I liked.

9. Tag 3 fic writers you think are underrated/unknown in the fandom/fanfiction community.

Uhh?? Idk. I think recently the writing group here is pretty tight, everyone seems to know everyone.

10. What’s your favorite fandom, pairing, or character to read fic for?

Naruto fandom and NaruHina.

Fanfiction Writing Asks:

11. How do you come up with your fic titles?

I usually take it from words used in the story or from the prompt.

12. Tell the author your favorite fic title of theirs (not the fic, strictly title). Author: what’s your favorite title you’ve come up with and why?

I think...maybe "Tell Me of Forevers" or "Nightdreams." I like those because they aren't taken word-for-word directly from the story, but touch on a theme in the story.

13. Do you outline your fics? How much of a headache would someone get if they just looked at an outline of yours without reading the fic?

Yes, I outline. They wouldn't get a headache, I think. It's usually just a summary.

14. Do you have a personal word minimum that you hold yourself too? Why or why not?

Nope. I didn't know people do that.

15. Tell the author your favorite fic of theirs. What’s your (the author’s) favorite fic you’ve written?

My favorite fic continues to be "It's No Secret."

16. Do you research for your fics? If so, how deep of a rabbit hole have you gone down by accident when researching?

Yes, I do. I've done historical and folktale research for "Little Samurai." I did area/location research for "Last Chance." I did historical research for "About You." I did fairy tale research for "Catskin." I did a ton of astronomy research for "The Cowherd and the Weaver Girl." And I did lighting research for "Inspo." I go pretty deep.

17. How obsessively do you sit and stare at your fic after you’ve just posted and wait for feedback?

I don't. I usually have something else I need to do or I go to bed.

18. Do you have a WIP that you keep telling yourself you’ll eventually get back to, but deep down you know that’s probably a lie?

I actually think I can finish all of mine if I just try.

19. Do you edit your fics after you write them, or do you prefer to just hit post and run (because it’s someone else’s problem now)?

I always edit before posting to AO3. Anything I post directly on Tumblr might not be edited.

20. What’s your favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

Posting!

21. What’s your least favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

Starting a new chapter.

22. Do you take fic requests? If so, for what characters and why?

On occasion. If someone sends me a request, I'll think about writing it. Sometimes I do write and post it, sometimes I leave them in my drafts for a better day.

23. What’s your absolute favorite trope to write?

From what I already have posted, probably friends-to-lovers, secret relationship/forbidden love, or high school au. I don't think I have an intentional favorite.

24. What’s a trope that you’d like to never hear about as long as you live, let alone write?

Public humiliation / public degradation.

25. Do you listen to music as you write? If possible, link your writing playlist.

No, not usually.

26. What’s your biggest distraction when writing?

Tumblr feed, all the pictures to scroll through mindlessly.

27. Do you like to give your readers some warning of what might be coming or just slap them in the face with content at random?

lol, whatever is fine.

28. How do you deal with writing pressure (ie: pressure to update, negative comments, deadlines, etc)?

Well, pressure to update is not a big deal to me. I do this for fun, so I don't think I unnecessarily pressure myself too much. With negative comments, I don't get too many of those, and I think I do my best to avoid situations where I might get negative feedback.

29. Have you ever written for an exchange or event of some kind? Which one(s)? Did you enjoy it?

Yeah, I like the events. My favorite was NH2020, the year-long one last year. I also enjoyed the Secret Santa last year since @badluckbrebis was my giftee.

30. Post a snippet from your current WIP without context - no more than 300 words.

haha😈

Ecstasy slides through his veins, blooming over his mind, cocooning him in pleasant sensations, cum shooting out in eager twitches against hot, milking flesh.

31. Of the characters you write for, which is your favorite? Has that choice been swayed at all by your followers/readers’ reactions to certain ones?

Naruto Uzumaki, always.

32. Copy and paste your top three favorite lines/jokes/sentences you’ve ever written. What fics do they come from?

Top 3 faves in order:

That was the plan: "She shifts in his arms, and cloth and cleavage come pillowing up to his face, and he’s certain that she’s scooped from the same puffy stuff his adolescent daydreams were made of."

Tell Me of Forevers: "What he wouldn’t do to inspire every blush, every smile of hers for an eternity when such moments already only speak “forever” to him."

White Lilies: "Whether at his feet, in his eyes, ears, mind, if not reaching his heart, she never landed anywhere. (It’s okay.)"

I consider "White Lilies" to have my technically best writing, so it was kind of hard to choose just one line from that fic! But I decided that one's my favorite line from the whole story.

33. What do you like writing better: one shots or multi-chapter stuff?

One-shots.

34. How much of yourself and your life experiences do you put into your writing? What do you think your readers’ image of you is?

A lot of my life experiences are in my writing. Hmm, I think readers probably think I'm...hmm...either empathetic or really perverted?

35. How much has writing fic changed your life?

I spend a lot less time on real-life social media than before.

36. Are there any fics or fandoms you’re embarrassed to have written or been part of?

I'm kind of embarrassed of "Honeymoon at the Hot Springs" lol. It's fine.

37. Give an update on your current WIP - if you don’t have one, give a sneak peek to a title or idea that you have and would like to write.

My current WIP is that A/B/O fic I started for February Smut Month Prompts: Sweet as Candy or Love Bites. I'm going to title it "Sweet As," and it'll be about how Naruto and Hinata become Alpha/Omega mates. It's really kinky, really smutty, and totally what I would want to read.

38. What does your writing process look like? How chaotic is it on a scale of 1 (very tame) to 10 (you can’t handle this kind of chaos)?

uhh???? a 1?? I've never once thought of my writing process as chaotic. Ahh, then I think of bunnyhoodlum's multiple drafts for the same chapter, and I realize that there exist types of writing processes that I would not be able to handle...

39. What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?

My smut.

40. How did you come up with the idea for [x fic]?

41. What’s your most popular fic (with the most notes on tumblr, most hits/kudos on ao3)?

Idk about Tumblr,,, maybe White Lilies got the most attention here. My most popular fic is Nightdreams on AO3.

42. Asker: pick three of the author’s works. Author: rank them 1 (the best) - 3 (the worst) based on whatever criteria you want - this could be something totally random that isn’t quality related (like simply ranking fics based on how many trains appear in them) - have fun!

43. Talk about a positive experience with fanfiction or the fanfiction community that you will always remember.

I will always remember how people congratulated me for finishing White Lilies😭 Also, when peppercornpresses made that FIRST art of my story, I just, I just stared at it all day.

44. Rant about something writing related.

hmmm, I don't feel like ranting about anything. I just recently ranted about my pet peeves above.

45. Fic specific questions - if you have any weird questions about specific works, here’s your shot to ask them!

I did them all! Nice questions.

#anon #*anon* #fic writer ask game #i will send these questions right back at you

[tunedtostatic]

galaxies of my heart

Vikady, also featuring Sana and a brief Krejjh cameo

CW: injury, aftermath of torture, painkiller drugs, brief domestic violence mention (not named characters), food, discussion of medical trauma & painkiller controversies

As she speaks, one of her hands makes what could be the beginning of a motion to reach for Arkady, then folds back into her lap. Arkady wonders if Sana gave her a crash course on Not Touching Your Loved Ones Without Warning After They’ve Been Tortured Because They Might Freak Out, or if that was something she already knew from her time as a medic. Either possibility feels depressingly plausible.

I finished my first tscosi fic! In which injuries are cared for, miscommunications are miscommunicated, assumptions are countered, and kisses are kissed. Title (and lyrics referenced in the fic) are from “space girl” by Frances Forever, even though it’s kind of a fluffy song relative to some of the subject matter, but not to worry, I have a permit [unfolds a sheet of paper that reads “I was working on my Vikady fanmix in the morning the day I started this fic and got it stuck in my head big time”]

Edit: I realized 9k is a little long to be easily navigable in post form so I archived this as well. I just learned when attempting to post a credited picrew that Tumblr is still hiding posts with links, but it’s at archiveofourown dot org, /works/31851859.

Edit the second: Re-reading “adrenaline makes you do stupid things” by jaggedwolf and I'm 90% sure I accidentally stole a couple things from there rather than the general primordial soup of my brain (the line "That can't be comfortable" and maybe the general concept of Arkady making sure she gets hurt before the person she's been captured with), so adding this to give credit where due to a really great fic that you should definitely read if you haven't already.

~

The first time Arkady surfaces, everything around her is still coated in a haze as though she’s dreaming. The room is quiet, and when she takes a sharp breath in, all of a sudden Violet is leaning over her, her hair swinging near Arkady’s face.

“You’ve got very dynamic hair,” Arkady says, or at least tries to say, and then she’s asleep again.

The next time she wakes up, she wakes up completely, although her mind still feels a little foggy. Her body aches, and—yeah, based on that ceiling, she’s definitely in the medbay of the Iris 2. Which means that they made it back to the ship, or at least that Arkady did—

Fear surges through her, and she peers back and forth. Her eyes land on Sana, who is sitting to the right of her bed, crocheting something that sprawls across her lap in chaotic loops.

Her intention is to say Sana’s name, but she can’t even make it through the first syllable, emitting a sound that sounds more like the “Ssss” of the litter of feral kittens Brian and Krejjh found that one time. Great job, Patel, you’d make a better hissing kitten than a first mate. Krejjh is going to have to stop calling you First Mate Patel and start calling you Feral Kitten Patel—

The thought of Krejjh is enough to make Arkady’s whole mind flinch. Krejjh—

The feral kitten hiss must have been loud enough for Sana to hear, though, because she’s dropping her crocheting to her lap, looking toward Arkady.

“Kady,” she says warmly, at the same time as Arkady croaks, “Krejjh—”

“Is fine.” Sana’s hand comes up to rest on the pillow next to Arkady’s cheek, a steadying presence, though she doesn’t touch her.

“They were with me.”

“They were.” Sana nods. “But they’re here and they’re not hurt. Hanging out with Brian in the kitchen as we speak.” She glances through the medbay door before her gaze bounces back to Arkady, and it’s such a familiar Sana kind of motion that Arkady feels the remainder of her panic fade slightly. Speaking of octopuses of myth and legend, that’s Sana, one mental tendril keeping track of the approximate status of each member of her crew at any given time.

“How are you feeling?” Sana continues. “Park said you were in a lot of pain before you passed out. Violet has you on a painkiller drip, but she’s using the minimum the way you always want. If you’re in pain, we can raise the dose.”

Arkady turns her attention more fully to her body. Pain and sensation are present, but muffled, as though they are far away. Ribs: hurt. Arm: hurts significantly. Legs: hurt, but only a little.

It’s bearable. “I’ve had worse.”

“Kady—”

“I’m fine, Sana. Just feels like…what do you call them…colors, purple, ouch…bruises.” She shakes her head, then stills with a wince. “The others?”

“Everyone’s safe.” Sana pats the pillow where her hand rests next to Arkady’s cheek. “Park found you and Krejjh before anyone laid a finger on them. He got out fine, too. You’re the only one who was hurt, Kady.”

Arkady studies Sana’s face. “How…bad is it?”

“Six fractures, no serious tissue injuries.” Sana’s voice is gentle but matter-of-fact. “We’re going to pick up some skeletal accelerators next time we’re on-planet. Violet thinks that with those in the mix, the worst,” she gestures to the cast on Arkady’s right wrist, “should be mended in about two months.”

Arkady closes her eyes. One day, everything is fine, the next, a few backwater IGR assholes get the drop on them, and now she’s going to be out of commission for two months.

Still. Better her than Krejjh.

The thought is an icily familiar one, although yesterday she was limited to the grimmer Better just the two of us than the others. Krejjh was tied up on the other side of the room, and when the IGR goons got bored beating on Arkady, or kicked her in the wrong place and just killed her, they’d move on to Krejjh, and there was nothing Arkady could do about it—

Arkady’s eyes fly open, and she turns her head to nudge it clumsily into Sana’s hand. Sana cups Arkady’s cheek in her palm, thumb brushing over her cheekbone, wiping away wetness. When Arkady exhales, her breath is shaky. Stupid. They’re all safe now.

“They didn’t hurt Krejjh?” Her voice doesn’t sound like her own, unsteady and small.

“They didn’t hurt Krejjh.”

“Can I walk? Before the two months?” Her voice is still so small. Stupid.

Sana brushes Arkady’s temple with her fingertips, her calloused palm still warm against Arkady’s cheek. “Violet says she thinks you’ll be able to use a walking cast in three or four weeks. Or a little earlier, depending on how quickly the accelerators work their magic.”

Arkady keeps her eyes closed. “Those aren’t cheap.”

“That’s what rainy-day funds are for.”

“Do we even have a rainy-day fund anymore?”

“I will shake Other Violet down for loose change if I have to, Kady.” Sana’s fingers caress her temple again, and there is steel in her voice as she says, “This is my ship, and when one of my crew needs something, I find a way.”

“I know you do.” Arkady opens her eyes, though she finds that her eyelids seem to have grown heavier in the intervening minutes. She blinks sleepily at Sana. “You’re such a good octopus.”

Sana beams. “Thank you, Kady! I…have some questions,” she adds, “but they can wait until later, I think.”

Arkady’s eyelids are so heavy, but there’s one other thing she needs to ask. “Vi’?”

“Violet’s okay, too. She’s been taking care of you since yesterday, but I shooed her off to get some sleep.”

Arkady smiles. “’nks, S’na.”

Sana smiles back. “We’re all okay,” she says tenderly, “and if anyone out there tries to change that, I will demolish them.”

Arkady nods against Sana’s hand, straining to keep her eyes open.

“We’re all okay, Kady,” Sana repeats, and Arkady lets herself slip into sleep.

~

There are hours of restless dreams, and a dreamlike interlude where someone gently shakes her awake, holding her head up and helping her drink a medicine cap of chalky fluid, before she slips back into dreams that finally segue into deep sleep.

There is quiet music playing the next time she wakes up. She can remember where she is this time, and she lies with her eyes closed for a minute, enjoying the sound of the instrumental jazz track she recognizes from Krejjh and Brian’s Infinite Space-Themed Playlist. In the darkness behind her eyes, she doesn’t have to face the fact that she can’t walk, or run, or kick, or punch, or protect the crew, or—

Okay, maybe the space behind her closed eyelids isn’t as restful as it could be. Arkady opens her eyes.

Violet is sitting beside her bed with one leg tucked up on the chair, reading a tablet. A few strands of hair have fallen from behind her ear to brush against her cheek, and she���s biting her lower lip the way she sometimes does when she’s focused on something. Brian’s little retro radio music player is sitting on the bedside table, continuing to ooze soft jazz as Violet lifts an absentminded finger to tap to the next page, then curls her hand back into her soft sweater.

Yeah, eyes open? Definitely an improvement.

She should probably say Violet’s name, regardless of how endearing it is to watch her read. Before she has a chance to do so, though, she must breath loudly or make some kind of noise, because Violet looks up, her face crinkling into a tired smile.

“Hey,” she says softly.

Arkady smiles. “Hey, Liu. Good to see you again.”

“It’s good to see you, too.” Violet’s smile quavers for a second. “Really, really good.”

Arkady tries to make her voice reassuring. “Hey, I’m okay, Violet, huh? It’s gonna be okay.”

Violet rolls her eyes, a small smile blossoming on her lips. “You’re the one in the medbay bed, Arkady. I’m supposed to be taking care of you.”

As she speaks, one of her hands makes what could be the beginning of a motion to reach for Arkady, then folds back into her lap. Arkady wonders if Sana gave her a crash course on Not Touching Your Loved Ones Without Warning After They’ve Been Tortured Because They Might Freak Out, or if that was something she already knew from her time as a medic. Either possibility feels depressingly plausible.

“It sounds like you have been taking care of me.” Arkady smiles again. “Sana said you were here with me all night until she made you get some rest.” She thinks back, trying to pin down a faint memory. “I remember seeing you, leaning over me?”

“Yeah, you woke up really briefly last night.” Violet wrinkles up her forehead in that adorable way that she does. “You said something that sounded like, um…‘You’ve have hair’?”

Arkady grins. “Well shit, Liu, you sure do have hair, don’t you?”

Violet laughs, shaking her head back and forth. Her hair bobs around as though a breeze is passing through the medbay, and Arkady laughs too, then winces as the pain in her ribs flares.

Violet stills instantly. “You have some fractured ribs—”

“Yeah, kinda put that together.” Arkady tries to breathe with the minimum possible amount of motion.

The expression on Violet’s face makes it look like she’s in pain herself. “Would you like me to up the dose on your painkiller drip?” she asks softly.

“Nah.” Along with the flaring pain in her ribs, both of Arkady’s legs and her right wrist have that same itching, burning ache. The rest of her body is just sore, like she’s covered in bruises, which she probably is. “Uh, speaking of which, though. Could I get a rundown on what’s, you know, busted? Sana said I had…six? seven?...fractures, but we didn’t get into specifics beyond the two-month limit.” She grimaces a little at the thought.

“Six,” Violet confirms immediately, before adding, with an abashed smile, “I mean, not that that makes things that much better than seven?”

Arkady resists the impulse to laugh again, confining herself to a snort. “Can’t argue that point.”

“In answer to your question,” Violet begins, slipping into her calm medic tone of voice, “you have two cracked ribs and fractures to your left foot and right ankle. They broke your right wrist pretty badly, and I’m going to need to be very careful about injecting any accelerators there, especially if we can’t find an actual doctor on-planet to do it, so it might be a little more than two months before any, uh, heavy use, but you should have the hard cast off earlier than that.”

“Right.” Arkady inhales through her nose; exhales through her mouth. “Could have been worse, right?” At least she isn’t blubbering the way she was with Sana, but her voice still drops too small and quiet on the last word.

“It could have.” Violet’s own reply is almost a whisper, and Arkady silently swears at herself for her choice of phrasing.

When she looks up, though, Violet doesn’t look weepy.

She looks furious.

“Hey, you okay there, Liu?” Arkady stares at Violet’s clenched jaw and balled fists. “You look like you’re about to blow a gasket.”

Violet laughs a little, flexing her fingers and curling her hands more loosely back against her sweater. “Did you pick that one up from Tripathi?”

“That’s not a mechanic expression. Everyone uses that expression.”

Violet gives her a skeptical look.

“Okay, yeah, I may have picked it up from the captain. It’s still a normal-person expression, though.”

Violet chuckles, and they both lapse into silence.

This is nice, Arkady tells herself. Spending time with Violet is nice. It’s nice, it’s pleasant, it’s a way to distract herself from the itching, burning ache in her limbs and the creeping dread of knowing that if the ship is boarded, Arkady can’t even run, much less protect anyone else.

“Speaking of Tripathi,” Violet says with a smile, “I should give you an update on the latest, ahem, on-ship situation. Our captain has declared that next time she has a free moment she’s going to tear out that weird shallow closet in the hall next to Park’s room and put in inset cabinets for towels and stuff so Park and RJ and I don’t have to cross the ship for them. But when RJ found out, they said…”

Arkady tries to listen to Violet’s narration of Sana and RJ’s stalemate about the cabinets, smiling at the appropriate points while keeping a lid on the sinking feeling of knowing that for not days but weeks, she’ll be able to do jack-all do protect either Sana or RJ, or Violet, who is sitting here smiling at Arkady with love and trust in her eyes as though half the universe isn’t out to get them here in their one fragile ship that Violet wouldn’t even be on if Arkady hadn’t tricked her onto it in the first place—

She shoves the thoughts away, focusing on formulating a reply to Violet’s story. “Well, if it devolves into fisticuffs, Sana could take them, but if Sana calls a vote, I’m pretty sure Brian and Krejjh will side with RJ about the sheet music, and I don’t know what or whether Park would care.” She grins. “So, even odds.”

Violet snorts. “Well, I’ll keep you apprised, assuming none of the combatants wander in here to make their case to you themselves.”

“Medbay and a show?”

“On this ship? I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Arkady grins again. “I don’t know why Krejjh thinks being an outlaw is boring. The way we live, we practically produce our own shampoo.”

Violet snorts again before adding, in the kind of giggle-whisper Arkady most closely associates with grade-school gossip, “I can’t believe they got RJ into Sh'th Hremreh.”

“I know.” Arkady bites back another grin. “I mean, I guess we shouldn’t be surprised. Krejjh can be very persuasive.”

“If by ‘being persuasive’ you mean ‘talking loudly and enthusiastically about a piece of media until everyone in their general vicinity is compelled by gravitational media force to watch the thing in question,’ then yes, I guess you could refer to it that way.”

“I notice it hasn’t worked on you yet.” Arkady raises an eyebrow. “Or has it?”

“No, I have not dipped into Sh'th Hremreh.” Violet raises an eyebrow. “Yet.”

Arkady bites down on another chest-killing laugh before it can escape, glancing toward the radio on the bedside table. “Speaking of Brian and Krejjh creations. The notorious Infinite Space-Themed Playlist, huh?”

Violet smiles, gazing at Arkady tenderly. “You seemed a little restless in your sleep, and I’ve always hated total quiet when I’m sick, so I thought maybe it’d be nice to put on some background music.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Arkady pushes away an obscure flash of annoyance at the sentimentality of Violet taking the time to put on this playlist for an asleep Arkady as though something as trivial as music is a priority when Arkady is down for the count and Krejjh is doubtless drained from yesterday themself and the whole crew is going to have to figure out how to scrape by and cover piloting shifts and handle everything with no security officer and a stressed pilot and a tired medic and—

She shoves the annoyance aside, telling herself not to be an ass. There are literal studies showing that music is good for mental and physical health, right? And she sure as shit could use as much distraction as possible from the ache of her ribs and her ankle and her messed-up wrist. Having a playlist on is nice. This is nice.

Holst’s The Planets has come on, making for a somewhat grim background compared with the rest of the playlist, and Violet leans forward to jab irritably at the advance button until a benign rock song begins.

Arkady gives her an inquiring look, and Violet sighs, biting her lip again.

“I am so angry,” she says finally. “About what they did to you.”

“You and me both, trust me.”

Violet sighs, slumping in her chair. “You and me aren’t the only ones who are. Krejjh was pretty…shaken. Brian and Sana have been there for them, obviously,” she adds hastily, “and they’re doing fine. We can take care of each other. We are taking care of each other. The last thing I want to do is make you worry about us. But…” She trails off. “This isn’t just another day on the Iris. Not for any of us.”

“Well, that’s why the IGR does what they do,” Arkady mutters, closing her eyes. “Torture gets results.”

Violet sounds startled. “Every credible study in the universe has shown that torture doesn’t work. You said yourself—”

Arkady opens her eyes. “Torturing someone to interrogate them doesn’t produce reliable information. People know that. That’s not what it’s for. Torture is popular across the universe, through history, because it punishes people. Controls them. Their families. Whole societies.” She wouldn’t have to explain this to Sana. “When it’s on the table, you live your whole life under a threat. The actual torturing makes the people doing it feel powerful and good, and in the environment it creates, everyone else is easier to control. Win-win.”

Violet’s eyes have gone all huge and empathetic. “Arkady—” she whispers.

Something about that look always gets under Arkady’s skin. “Calm down,” she snaps. “I know you’re incapable of not freaking out when I talk about my childhood, but no, I’m not implying I was beaten up as a kid. The guards mostly just beat on adults; I think they knew that if they went after kids too often, enough people would’ve stood up against them regardless of losses. Or hey, maybe it was a vestige of human decency. Kinda doubt it, though.” She gestures vaguely with her good hand, careful not to pull at the IV. “I mean, of course I got beat up by other kids a few times, but just in a normal way, not in a torture way—Point is, yeah, I’ve known this stuff for a long time, but it’s not like you’re a stranger to it, right? You’ve spent your entire adult life under the IGR. You knew what was happening to some of the people who were disappearing.”

Violet is staring silently at her with that look of horrified concern, but hey, at least Violet’s overempathetic mind jumping directly to Cresswin as an explanation of Arkady’s knowledge on this subject is arguably preferable to her thinking through the percentage of Arkady’s life spent in Special Forces and then as an IGR guard herself, a train of logic that she finds herself hoping Violet doesn’t follow.

But that isn’t the right way to think about it, is it, her brain points out a moment later, the way it does whenever she considers discretely concealing the most hideous parts of herself from Violet. Violet is dating her. She deserves to know what she’s gotten herself into.

“It was never like…this,” she starts. “It was never me in a room with a helpless person, hurting them. But you know I was Special Forces during the war. You know I was a guard on Telemachus. Yes, I grew up on a prison planet and it’s all very sad but once you get over your latest shock about that—you’re a scientist, you can do the math and figure out that I don’t only know how this works from one side of it.”

Violet’s eyes are getting progressively wider, and Arkady drops her gaze to stare fixedly at her own hands. “They didn’t train us on the details of it; not…techniques. I mean, I don’t doubt they had people for that, but that would’ve been above my pay grade. But me, us, those goons who got the drop on us yesterday, we’re instructed pretty clearly in, ha, ‘maintaining control over a noncompliant population.’ Not like it’s just a few backwater goons breaking bones, either. When I was a guard—”

It isn’t even that her voice breaks, not really. It’s more of a stumble over the sudden realization that her voice should be breaking, or shaking, or anything other than steady and clear.

“When I was a guard, we all knew that some of the people we were guarding would be ferried to the more, ha, specialized options. Zone Z isn’t a secret.” Her voice, still flat, is rising. “And during the war…I can’t pretend that what I did in combat was better. I killed a lot of people, Violet. I killed a lot of people and they will never be alive again. You can’t say that that’s better than being a professional torturer. I can’t pretend that, and I can’t pretend some of my unit and some the people leading us…I can’t pretend that they didn’t do…” She stares down at her body. “This kind of thing.”

Silence. Arkady forces herself to look up.

Violet is staring at her in horror, but, for once, Arkady at least agrees that it’s justified.

She can feel herself breathing hard, and her face is wet again, which is frankly an indictment of her as much as anything else in this conversation. Crying to your girlfriend for sympathy about the horrible things you’ve done to other people isn���t exactly a good look.

“Look,” she says. “Some of this will haunt me until the day I die, and that’s good. It means I’m still human; it means…it doesn’t matter what it means. It’s what I need to do whether it means anything or not. I should be haunted. I think even Sana would agree with that.” She sighs. “I can figure out a way to live with this shit, and I do, but you signing up to…you know…see…someone who you knew was a smuggler and a killer doesn’t mean you thought through the implications of the IGR part of the equation before you asked me out.” Her voice is rising in irritation even though Violet is the last person in this medbay who deserves it. “I’m not the most mobile right now, but this is your medbay, I think you can find the door—”

“Arkady.”

Arkady looks up again. Violet is making steady eye contact with her. The horror hasn’t all gone out of her expression, but her voice is firm, not panicked. “I knew, when I started going out with you, that you had been a soldier with the IGR.”

“Okay, but you also assumed anyone who’d fought in the war was a ‘war hero,’ so you’ll forgive me if I have my doubts that you grasped what—”

“Arkady.” Violet’s voice is louder now, but still very level. “In case you need the reminder, I was fully aware of both your history and what the IGR was capable of the day I asked you out. You know, the day we were fleeing New Jupiter in a stolen IGR ship? That day?” A faint note of humor has entered Violet’s voice, though it disappears as she continues, “I’m going to leave for five minutes, to go to the bathroom and splash water on my face, not for good. I’ll have my communicator if you need anything.”

“Oh.” Arkady stares at her. “Okay?” she manages.

Violet walks out of the medbay, and Arkady stares blankly at the ceiling until her footsteps reenter. As promised, the hair around her face looks damp, but she looks calmer, more settled. She sets a glass of something on the bedside table.

“I brought you some juice, which you should be able to have now that you’re up and talking, but—” She sighs. “We should probably discuss this first.”

Arkady watches her.

“Arkady, I…” For the first time since her calm monologue before leaving the room, Violet looks uncertain, then presses on. “Like I said. I did know that you had been a guard with the IGR, and I did know more or less what that meant. And I knew—” She rubs her face with one hand. “Well, I didn’t know, it’s not like you can ever know with anyone, when I was a paramedic I saw cases of domestic violence where you never would’ve—anyway. I thought that I knew that you weren’t the kind of person who hurt people for your own satisfaction, and that felt like enough.” Her eyebrows crease together. “You make me feel safe. You always have.”

Arkady can feel her face beginning to get soaked again. All the things that she feels are careening around inside her, as though her heart is a ship in a bottle and somehow, within the glass, someone has conjured a storm.

“And it…sounds like I was right?” Violet lets out a breath that could almost be a shaky laugh. “You never…you’re saying you never did to anyone else…the kind of thing that was just done to you.”

She opens her mouth again, then hesitates, her words becoming slower and more contemplative.

“You’re right, though. I’m not sure I…that in the time after I’d realized the IGR was a lot less than less than perfect, I’m not sure I ever thought through the degree to which you, as a guard, would have been complicit in…those things. And…” She sighs again. “You’re right. I do think of people who fought in the war as heroes. I mean, I never really had a chance to—or, no, I can’t sit here and claim that I never had a chance. I never let myself think about how likely it was that some of the people fighting for us were…how did you put it. Specialized at things that make me sick even to think about. But also…”

She drops her gaze to her lap.

“I…I know that you killed Dwarnians. People. I know that a lot of soldiers killed a lot of people. I mean, that’s what war means, right?” She gives another shaken almost-laugh. “And I’m not—I’ve never been the kind of person who celebrates other people dying—”

“I know you’re not, Violet.” Violet is a biologist and a medic. Her work is the stuff of life, not death.

Violet slumps lower into her chair. “Yeah. But…because those deaths feel…felt…feel…partially justified to me, because the Dwarnians were trying to conquer us…maybe I let that make me forget a little that those deaths are still…deaths.”

She lifts her face, looking Arkady in the eye, and Arkady isn’t sure what she sees there. “Sometimes I wonder whether, irrespective of everything else about our lives—” Violet makes a swirly motion with her hand, as though to encapsulate the distances between worlds. “I wonder if you always would have been the kind of person who doesn’t lose sight of the death part.”

“Interesting theory, Violet,” Arkady says, once she can get herself to speak. “Doesn’t change that I was the one of us doing the killing.”

As she says the words, she realizes that they sum out to something snarkier than she intended, but there’s no bite to her voice, and Violet seems to register that.

“No,” she says simply. “It doesn’t.”

Arkady watches Violet in silence as she scrapes tendrils of drying hair off her forehead, straightening back up in her chair.

“Anyway. I’m not walking out that door, Arkady. You’re right, I hadn’t truly thought about what it meant that you were Special Forces. There are probably things about the war that I need to…well, I’ll probably never understand them completely, but things that I need to acknowledge.” She sighs. “But I meant what I said earlier. When I asked you out, I was asking you, not some hypothetical better you. Besides,” she adds quietly, “it’s not like I don’t have my own regrets.”

There’s a pretty big difference between ‘keeping your head down and getting a college degree’ and ‘actively killing people,’ but Arkady doesn’t feel like getting into it.

She lets herself sink back into the pillow. The room feels calmer, like the air on a planet after a storm.

No, it doesn’t, Violet said, and somehow, that feels like an anchor. Violet isn’t so horrified by the things that Arkady has done that she needs to pretend that they don’t exist.

“I. Uh. Okay.” Arkady attempts a smile, though she has a bad feeling that she’s making more of a weird grimace.

Fortunately, Violet doesn’t seem to mind, giving her a smile of her own that’s only a little shaky. “I’m glad we, uh, talked about this, but I’m guessing it isn’t doing your pain any good and I’m ready to shelve it for now if you are?”

“Shelving, uh. Sounds good.” Arkady nods vigorously. “Yeah.”

“Also, you owe me an apology for snapping at me,” Violet says calmly.

“Oh.” Arkady stares at her for a second. “I…shouldn’t have done that, should I?” Great job restating the obvious, idiot. “I…” Jesus Christ.

Violet is watching her silently. Arkady takes a breath.

“Violet, I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t have snapped at you about something that had almost nothing to do with you. I mean, I shouldn’t shout at you in general, that’s broadly speaking a dick move, but in this particularly context I definitely, especially shouldn’t have—”

Shut up, shut up, shut up. What is a good apology even like? Sincere. Doesn’t make it about yourself.

“What I mean is—I’m sorry.” She bites her lip. "And, uh…thank you. For, um, not holding me to a lesser standard because I was hurt.” Or because I’m someone who has hurt other people. “Not that you should have to remind me I owe you an apology, but…” She squirms. “You had enough faith in me to know I’d. You know. Want to. So. Uh. Thanks.”

So much for not making it about herself. She coughs awkwardly. “So. Yeah. Uh. You sure there’s not anything…more that you want to talk about? Because I, uh, just freaked out and dumped a ton of my garbage right into your lap, and if there’s anything else you need to say, or ask, or whatever, I’m here. I mean, I kinda can’t go anywhere else right now, but—you know what I mean.”

“Thanks.” Violet smiles a little. Arkady nods, trying to smile back and hoping this one isn’t too grimacey.

Staring at Arkady as though deep in thought, Violet says, “I don’t think there’s anything else, right now. I still want you to talk to someone about…all this…at some point. It doesn’t need to be a civilian counselor. Just…someone. But…”

Violet bites her lip. Her pained look from when Arkady hurt herself laughing is back, if it even ever left. “You have multiple broken bones and you’re stuck in bed and in pain, and right now more than talking about anything I just want you to be able to rest.”

“Oh,” Arkady manages. Helpfully, she follows it up with, “Ah.”

Violet smiles again, then hesitates. “Though, there is—"

She is staring at Arkady very intently all of a sudden, and Arkady can practically see the gears turning inside her head. She feels her own body tensing, a runaway voice inside her warning her that reminding Violet about so much of her past all in one go might mean that this is the day Violet finally does walk out the door for good.

But when Violet speaks, it’s not about the part of the conversation that Arkady was expecting.

“So…you’ve always known that torture, um, works. Ever since you were a kid.”

“What? Yeah, I—you grow up on a place like Cresswin, you get a pretty firm grasp of what torture is used for, yeah.”

Violet is biting her lip as though in deep thought. “So…when I was on the Iris…and you’d just stopped pretending to be Kay Grisham, and I accused you of wanting me to get in the cryo chamber so you could torture me for information…you said ‘We don’t torture, it doesn’t yield reliable results,’ and then you said, ‘Also, it’s wrong.’ But you believed…you knew that torture did work.” Violet’s voice is slow, her face still screwed up as though she is working something out. “Even if not for the exact purpose I was accusing you of. So…when you said all that…the reason that you, the real you, didn’t torture, that the Rumor crew didn’t torture, is just because it’s wrong.”

“Gee, Liu, glad you’re having a warm, fuzzy realization about how heartfelt and wholesome it is that our crew doesn’t torture people.” Arkady’s pent-up dread gives way to a fervent eyeroll. “Have you met Sana? Like, held a conversation with her? At any point in time? For more than thirty seconds?”

Violet sighs in annoyance. “That isn’t what—” she fires back, then stops, her voice going gentle again. “That isn’t what I meant. Do you want to try to have some of the juice now?”

“Liu,” Arkady says, a slow grin spreading across her face. “Are you keeping a lid on the snarky repartee because I’m all injured and convalescent? Because if I can say anything I want while you nobly go easy on me, can I just comment that the way that you put cereal in your milk a little at a time ‘so it doesn’t get soggy’ is mind-blowingly—”

“You’re making me. Want. To be a lot. Less. Noble. About it.”

Arkady snickers, then smiles, holding out her bruised but less-busted left hand. Violet stops mock-glaring and reaches across Arkady’s body to take it in a careful, awkward clasp, smiling at her as though…

Well, shit, Arkady doesn’t know how to put it into words, or at least not into words that aren’t all dramatic and weird. Violet is smiling at Arkady as though Arkady is some wonder of the universe that Violet can’t believe she gets to have the privilege of seeing, like a star or a comet or…whatever it is that biologists rock their socks about, a really cool bug or something.

It’s weird and kind of overwhelming, but kind of in a good way, and Arkady just wants to sit here and hold Violet’s hand, and look at Violet, and let herself be looked at by Violet like the wonder of the universe that Arkady knows that she is not but that she could, as Violet watches at her, almost believe herself to be—

“Violet,” Arkady says, wrinkling her eyebrows. “How many painkillers do you have me dosed up on right now?” She squints at the IV bag above her, dropping Violet’s hand and trying to shove herself a little more upright against the pillows. “Also, does a convalescent gal get to sit up around here? I kinda want to try some of that juice, and maybe someday even do something horribly taxing like read an update on our ship’s computer systems.”

The corner of Violet’s mouth turns up in a smile. “I’ll raise the bed. Let me know where you want to stop.”

“Right.” Arkady lies back as the fancy Iris 2 medbay bed hums its way upright. “Okay, stop.”

Raising her head from the thin pillow, she tips her stiff neck back and forth, peering around the medbay, which looks pretty much the way it always does. Sana’s multicolored crocheting bag is slung over the back of a chair.

“Let’s see, I think there’s—” Violet leans somewhere behind her, pulling out a fresh pillow and reaching forward to tuck it gently behind Arkady’s head. “Better?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“In answer to your question,” Violet says, still in her calm, attentive medic voice as she continues to adjust the pillows, “you told me back when I was taking down medical info on the Rumor that you prefer minimal use of sedative painkillers, and even the Iris doesn’t have any of the good non-sedative intravenous stuff, so I’ve been using the minimum of the intravenous sedative painkillers and transitioning you to our standard orals. That should mean you’re less groggy, but also that we’re blocking less of the, well, pain, so let me know if you want me to adjust the dose. It’s not all-or-nothing; I can fiddle with it a little without instantaneously sending you to another dimension,” she adds, a note of warm humor in her voice as she sits back in her chair with smile.

Arkady blinks, still stuck on the first part of that. “You did?”

“Did…” Violet frowns, visibly parsing which of her words Arkady is referring to, before her face clears in understanding. “Did stick to the minimum end of the range I considered safe and reasonable?” She gives Arkady a look Arkady doesn’t quite know how to interpret, sort of alarmed and sad. “Your medical decisions are your own, Arkady. I’m not going to override your wishes just because I care about you and seeing you in pain isn’t easy for me. Or any other reason.” Violet’s eyebrows furrow. “No one should,” she adds, in that quietly defiant tone of voice that she uses when she’s declaring something and has realized that she wants the whole universe to know it’s what she believes.

“Oh.” Arkady swallows. “Yeah.”

“We’re coming up on the next dose of the orals in a quarter of an hour,” Violet says, her voice businesslike again as she checks her watch. “In the meantime, are you ready for juice?”

“I didn’t even know we had juice.” Arkady eyes the glass with interest.

“There was some concentrate in the pantry. When Tripathi and I sorted the food, we tucked some of it away in case someone got hurt and needed easy fluids.”

“That was very forward-thinking of you.”

“On this ship, not really,” Violet mutters, holding the glass to Arkady’s lips.

Drinking from the glass as Violet holds it turns out to be somewhat complicated and require both of their full attention, but once Violet sets it back down, Arkady leans back against the pillows with a smirk. “Hey, we’re dashing space rogues. A few bumps and bruises are all part of the job.”

“‘A few,’” Violet returns, but without rancor.

“It’s my job, Liu,” Arkady snarks back cheerfully. Between the juice and the strains of one of Krejjh’s actually-good Dwarnian jazz tracks and Violet’s reassuring presence next to her, Arkady is beginning to feel more like herself than she has in a while, the helplessness of yesterday starting to feel a little further away. Even the pain is…okay, the pain is still pretty painful, actually, a constant burn at the edges of her mind.

She hesitates.

“Violet?”

“Yes?”

“Could you maybe…” Arkady licks her lips. “You said you could fiddle with the painkiller drip a little, right? Because my shitty bones kinda hurt a lot and I wouldn’t mind if they, uh, didn’t.”

“I can do that.” When Violet meets Arkady’s gaze, her voice is calm and serious. “I’ll start with a small increment. It will take about thirty seconds to take effect. Does that sound good?”

“Yeah. Yes.”

Standing, Violet adjusts something.

Arkady waits.

“Do you feel anything yet?”

The relief is noticeable, the pain in Arkady’s chest and limbs cooling down a notch. “Better. Wow. Better.” Arkady hesitates. “You, uh. Said that that was a small increment? I think I could use another small increment.”

“Okay.” Violet makes another adjustment.

This time, the relief is almost total. Arkady stares at the ceiling, feeling tears of relief prick her eyes as the burning ache eases to almost nothing.

Everything feels a little foggier, too, but she’s still here, and able to form mental sentences, and the pain is all but gone.

“That’s good.” She bites her lip as Violet sits back at her side. “That’s really, really—the pain is almost gone. Now.”

Violet swallows visibly, staring at Arkady in relief.

Arkady feels a tear coalesce and run down her cheek, and Violet reaches forward with gentle fingers to wipe it away.

“I’m glad, Arkady,” she whispers. “I’m so glad.”

Arkady lets a long breath out, looking around the room again. It’s almost like being in a new room, a room-without-pain, during a new day, a day-without-pain.

“Sana will be glad, too,” she comments wryly as her gaze lands on the crocheting bag again. “She gets all twitchy whenever she manages to have good food or meds or supplies on hand and someone doesn’t use them.” She grins. “It’s her whole octopus thing. You know, I think I called her an octopus yesterday? Krejjh won’t shut the hell up about octopi now that they’ve found out they’re, gasp, actually real, so I guess I just permanently have octopi on the brain now, and I was thinking about how Sana has her whole multitasking thing where she’s got an eye on the status of the whole ship and everyone on the crew at all times, and—damn it, I should have called her a ghost squid. She would have hated that.”

Violet is giggling helplessly. “I can’t believe you called Tripathi an octopus.”

Arkady grins lazily. “Yeah, well, now she’s gotten to enjoy living with the mystery of what the hell I was talking about. Even sedative-induced grogginess has the occasional upside, right?”

Speaking of twitchiness, Violet’s twitchy question face is back, though Arkady can tell she’s trying to hide it.

“You didn’t override what I told you, okay?” Arkady says. “You didn’t dose me up, even when I couldn’t have done anything about it, because I’d told you not to. So I figured you wouldn’t take a mile if I gave you an inch.”

“Oh.” Violet sits back in her chair, looking at Arkady with that same expression she was looking at her with earlier, sadness and something else Arkady can’t parse.                                                                

Arkady sighs. “During the war. When you got injured, they knocked you straight out. It made it easier on the medics, I guess—no panicking soldiers, just unconscious bodies to take care of until they got better or didn’t. And easier on the medics meant less medics per ship, which made it easier on the brass. I mean, I guess that was why, though I wouldn’t put it past just being a power trip for some of them—”

“I know.”

“—but it isn’t like you can easily say when it was that and when it was—” Arkady blinks. “Huh?”

Violet sighs, her eyes dropping to her lap. “That’s not just a wartime thing. When I was a medic out by O-11, some of my colleagues used too much sedative on people they thought were being a problem. Or who…might be a problem. Aggressive, scared, not ‘compliant,’ whatever. Of course, if you paid attention to who they were more likely to think was a problem…”

“I’m guessing there were patterns?” Arkady offers.

“Yeah.” Violet bites her lip. “The irony was that…this was less of a thing out in the field, but pretty often when someone was actually in the hospital, they’d be denied painkillers because the staff decided they were lying or exaggerating. It was…” Violet twists her hands in her lap. “It wasn’t just those problems, either. When you have a lot of people living in poverty, the power dynamics with whoever is in charge of access to medical treatment get…bad. It was not a good situation, and I was—you know. There. Being part of it.”

Arkady blinks, staring at Violet. Maybe the reason she didn’t know how to interpret the look in Violet’s eyes earlier was because it wasn’t actually the panicky huge-eyed way she looks at Arkady what feels like every time Arkady mentions some detail of Cresswin, but a look of recognition.

“I never thought about what it would be like to be a medic under the IGR,” she says quietly.

Violet finally looks up. “Part of it was the IGR, but a lot of my older colleagues had come up doing the same thing. It’s like you said. Republics aren’t perfect, either.”

“Oh.”

Violet licks her lips, hunching further into her chair. “It’s like you said about the war. Yes, sure, once I wasn’t a trainee and it was me and some colleagues out on a call, we were never the ones who gave those injections, used more than was needed. But that doesn’t mean that the ones I was with were always great about other things, or that others weren’t…” She sighs. “Just because I didn’t do anything especially bad myself doesn’t mean I shouldn’t have…you know, tried to do more than I did.”

Arkady stares at Violet, considering offering her her less-busted hand again, but decides against it. If she were Violet she wouldn’t want someone pawing at her trying to offer comfort about something that can’t really be comforted.

Violet’s work is the stuff of life, she thought to herself blithely only a few minutes ago, somehow not thinking about how much being a medic had to do with death and utterly traumatic shit. And-or, apparently, standing aside while your colleagues hurt and traumatized other people and then having to live with that.

“Jesus,” she says.

“Yeah.”

They sit quietly for another few minutes.

“Well, on a lighter note,” Arkady says awkwardly, “when it comes to your current cool, awesome medic job with our little band of dashing space rogues…can I, uh, have some more juice?”

The worst of the haunted look slides off Violet’s face as she smiles. “Of course.”

When the glass is empty, Arkady does reach her less-busted hand toward Violet, tugging her forward when she takes it. “Come here.”

She thinks Violet might go for a kiss on the forehead, depending on how fragile she’s thinking of Arkady as being right now, but Violet kisses her on the lips.

Their lips move together gently for a few seconds, then Violet settles back into her chair, smiling. “Your lips are sticky.”

“Excuse me, Liu, but I feel I should point out that your lips are now also sticky.”

“Touché.” Violet grins as she stands up again. “How’s your pain? We should still be transitioning you to the orals, so I’m going to get that ready now.”

“Still good.” Arkady smiles, wiggling the fingers at the end of her cast as Violet heads for the medbay sink.

“I know you and Sana are going to grump at me and Krejjh at some point for covering you and RJ instead of running,” she calls, “and then grump at me even more for making sure they hurt me before Krejjh, but if it had to be us, you are lucky you got me as a patient instead of Krejjh, trust me. They got completely freaked out when we tried to introduce them to Necco wafer candy a few years ago and still make grim remarks about ‘humans eating chalk.’ Dissolved pills would not be an easy sell.”

She’s expecting Violet to banter something back, but Violet looks downcast when she returns to Arkady’s side.

After Arkady has knocked back the chalky goo, she watches Violet carefully as she returns to the sink. That look could be about any number of things, but Arkady has the strong feeling that she’s seen it before, the first time Violet was bandaging her up after her gunshot wound on the Gay Louisa.

“Are you mad at me?” she asks, hesitantly, when Violet sits back down.

Violet’s face crinkles up in concern as she looks at Arkady. “Mad?”

Arkady grins weakly. “You know, because I went out and got myself hurt again?”

Violet’s forehead smooths out, then re-crinkles itself a second later. “I—no, Arkady, I’m not mad that other people tortured you. Or, I mean, I’m mad, I’m—furious, but at them, not at you.” She pauses. “And yes, I’m…‘mad’ isn’t the right word, but…it makes me upset that you got badly hurt to protect me and RJ, and it makes me upset that you think it’s good for it to be you who gets hurt instead of the rest of us. But you know that the times I chastise you for getting hurt, I’m not angry at you. Right?”

She smiles on the last words, in that specific abashed way that she smiles when she’s asking for reassurance about something that she thinks is just her anxiety playing up and probably not something she should actually be worried about at all.

When Arkady just stares at her, though, a look of alarm passes into her eyes. “You do know that, right?” she asks in a smaller voice. “I would never be really angry at you for getting injured.”

“Oh,” Arkady says. “Yeah. Of course I know that.” Did she?

Violet looks like she isn’t particularly fooled. “Well, now you do.” She sighs, shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry. If—hypothetically speaking, I mean,” she adds, her lips twitching in the ghost of a smile. “If you’ve ever thought I was actually angry at you for being injured in a bad situation…I’m sorry.”

Arkady blinks at her, finally managing to muster a nod.

Violet smiles a little, reaching out and smoothing Arkady’s hair. “I’m not mad at you, Arkady. There’s nothing about you being hurt and in pain that I would ever be angry about.”

“Well, not nothing,” Arkady points out. “You just said that you were upset that I try to put myself between the rest of you and danger.” She can’t resist adding, “You know, my literal job?”

“Your job is being first mate.” Violet’s voice cracks slightly.

Time to see how prohibitive this wrist cast is. Arkady lifts her hand to Violet’s face, brushing a tear from the corner of her eye. “It’s a job with a lot of facets.”

Violet sniffs wetly, lifting her own hands to gently support Arkady’s wrist as she lowers it to her lips and brushes a kiss against Arkady’s fingers.

“I’m not mad at you for putting yourself between other people and danger, Arkady,” she whispers. “In fact, it’s probably one of the reasons I fell in love with you.”

Arkady can feel her face getting hot as she stares, dazed, at Violet. “But…”

“I think it was a very brave and good thing that you did yesterday, and it scares me and makes me angry how okay you are with getting hurt to protect other people. I can feel both of those things at the same time.” Violet smooths Arkady’s hair again.

“Oh.” Arkady clears her throat awkwardly. “I. Oh.”

Violet chuckles, reaching up to dash a tear from her own eye. “You know what I feel, right now, more than anything? I’m just glad to have you back safe with me.”

“Oh,” Arkady says again. “I. Um. Hhh.” Get it together, Feral Kitten Patel. “I’m…glad to be back with you too. Um. Really glad.”

Violet smiles through her tears, and they gaze at each other in silence for a while.

“You know,” Arkady says wistfully, “I’m not exactly thrilled I can’t use a gun, or a knife, or punch anyone, or—” She cuts herself off. “Uh, you get the idea. But what I really can’t wait for is to be able to scoop you up, carry you to bed, and hold you in my arms all night long.”

“I.” Now Violet is the one blushing. “You…”

Arkady smirks, and Violet seems to regain the ability to form sentences, reaching out and caressing Arkady’s cheek. “Well, the scooping me up in your arms part will have to wait a little longer, but you should be able to relocate to your real bed some time in the next few days, and then there’s nothing stopping us from a whole lot of careful cuddling.”

Arkady smiles. “Sounds like a plan.”

“As for right now…I can’t exactly crawl into bed with you,” Violet says, sounding regretful, “but we could try…”

Pulling the chair with her, she moves so that she’s sitting as close as possible to Arkady’s shoulder, then carefully lowers her upper body to the bed so that her lower left shoulder rests just below Arkady’s right one, her face nestled into Arkady’s neck. Her left arm is presumably squashed under her, but her right hand comes up to rest on Arkady’s shoulder, thumb gently stroking Arkady’s shirt.

“Liu,” Arkady says, trying not to laugh, “that can’t be comfortable.”

Violet’s mutter against her neck sounds almost sleepy. “You’d be surprised.”

“Whatever you say.” Arkady tips her head to lean her temple against the top of Violet’s head. “Are you gonna fall asleep like that?”

“No,” comes the immediate response. “Or. Actually, this is more comfortable than I thought it would be, and I shouldn’t leave you alone for more than fifteen minutes while you’re still on the drip, and alarms are fallible so maybe I should…” She raises her hand to her comm. “Violet Liu to Iris Cockpit.”

“Attem—”

“Hello, Science Officer Liu!” sings Krejjh’s sunny voice. “How’s the patient?”

Arkady can feel Violet smile against her neck. “She’s doing pretty good, Krejjh. Hey, can you send someone down here in twenty minutes to poke me awake? First Mate Patel and I are at risk of engaging in some romantic tandem sleeping.”

“Iiiii sure can, Science Officer Liu!” The grin in Krejjh’s voice is audible, and Arkady feels a lingering echo of fear fading from her mind at the sound of them alive and well. “Aaand I’ll let you get right to it. Krejjh out.”

Arkady snorts. “I have no idea why you’re eager enough to cuddle with me that you’re willing to risk getting shaken awake in situ by a pilot making disgustingly enchanted faces at how ‘cute’ we supposedly are.”

“It’s a high price,” Violet says solemnly, her voice sleepy, “but it’s a price I’m willing to pay.”

Arkady snorts again, trying to ignore the growing feeling of sunlit happiness in her chest. Violet’s hair is soft against Arkady’s face and her body is warm against Arkady’s side, and Arkady stares up at the ceiling, trying to comprehend how and why she has gotten ridiculously, disgustingly lucky enough to be here, now, with Violet’s hand curled around her shoulder and the steady rise and fall of Violet’s breathing against her.

In the kitchen, someone or something makes a subdued crashing noise, and someone else cackles loudly. Arkady can feel Violet’s amused sigh, and she smiles, letting her eyes drift closed.

“I hope you play this song someday,” croons the radio, “and think of Earth girl who loves space girl…”

A gentle current of air from the vents stirs a strand of Violet’s hair against Arkady’s ear, and she wriggles her head minutely to dislodge it before tucking her head back against Violet’s. As she closes her eyes again, the feeling of sunlit happiness is so strong that she wonders if she’ll be the one to stay awake even as poor tired Violet falls asleep. That would be ironic, wouldn’t it?

When Krejjh enters the medbay eighteen minutes and twenty-seven seconds later, they have to bounce back and forth from one foot to the other in silent agony for several seconds at the sheer adorableness of the sight of their crewmates cuddled together on the medical bed. First Mate Patel’s forehead is smoothed out in sleep, a smile on her lips, and even when Krejjh nudges Science Officer Liu awake and she disentangles herself from her girlfriend, Arkady curls her head into the indentation Violet’s cheek has left on the pillow, as though even in sleep she knows that any space that Violet takes up in the universe is a place where she will be safe and sound.

#the strange case of starship iris #vikady #arkady patel #violet liu #my writing #fic #tscosi