#frontiersmen

[vnynv]

MEET THE DISPATCHER

The Dispatcher is the RED Team's 10th mercenary who exists outside the boundaries of being an offense/defense/support class. Real name "Naima Les" (lit: Nameless) and uses she/he/they pronouns. His main stock item is a briefcase, giving him a topographic map and her teammate's locations, who she can aid through missile strikes, traps, or air supply drops.

Used to bureaucratic jungles, tax write-offs, and the occasional contract killing for a shady yet powerful firm, Dispatcher has to swallow their arrogance and learn how to fight alongside the team after a sudden transfer.

(more art and weapon ideas below! warning. p long.)

Dispatcher's stock kit (125 HP, 93% speed, weapon and PDA keybinds similar to Spy/Engineer's):

(PDA) Briefcase:

-  Includes topographic map/sensors of teammates (coordinate interaction), touch-tone phone to communicate (Scout’s headset now has a reason to exist). Connected to TF Industries satellite, has automated air support, and [SPOILERS].

- Takes medium set-up time and hauling open briefcase slows speed to 85%.

Air strike (Offense)

- Calls upon a drone from the air to strike general location of enemy based on teammate’s vision (think spectating when waiting to respawn). Not suited for high speed fights; missile has timer to land. Functions similarly to Soldier’s/Demo’s explosions. Low ammo count.

Stock Missile: A ballistic missile. The missile knows where it is at all times. Base: 90 / Crit: 270. Sugar Glider: Free-fall bomb. Always Mini-crits, but less precise - easier to damage teammates. Artillery Battery: Smaller missiles rain down in a group. Splash damage, faster reload/higher ammo count. Precision-Guided Munition: Guaranteed to not hit teammates. -50% damage and no crits.

Stun traps (Defense)

- Drops stun traps to slow enemies down in hot spots (think Control Points/Payload). Functions similar to Primary taser. Can be changed for caltrops (bleeding damage) or something else, I dunno.

Air supply (Support)

- Basically interpretation of med kits/ammo on the ground. Canon cool down and wait to replenish teammate’s health/ammo/metal from afar - no biggie. 

(Primary) Modified taser gun:

- Stuns enemy on impact, needs numerous shots to kill. Base: 40 damage.

2. (Secondary) Med kit: (veterinarian) (for animals) (dogs. mutts)

- Lore wise, meant for animals. Not as good as air supply health kit, but no drop time. Functions similarly to Heavy’s Sandvich.

(Melee) Swiss Army Knife / Knife of All Trades (KOAT):

- Weak in itself (30 damage) but can cause bleeding damage. If hitting teammate, temporarily buffs their primary weapon.

just some potential weapons for him! i'm more of a visual concept designer so their kit might be pretty op or underpowered, but the general basis is nerfed speed (in everything) and attack for whole-map range tradeoff. potentially a similar playstyle as engie (with a whole chilling in a lawn chair taunt), though in an alternate universe there could be a loadout for a battle!patches. i GUESS in actuality she would be counted as support, but i didn't want to ruin the 3x3 style.

anyways. she's the star of a canon/oc fic i have. tootles now.

#tf2 oc #tf2 10th class #10th class oc #dispatcher #tf2 #tf2 fanart #team fortress 2 #🚐 art #frontiersmen #finally. the accumulation of months long autism. and still going strong #my petit choufleur. my mama mia. my silly billy. #concept art #tf2 concept art #weapon concept

[wctruitt]

They were literally backwoodsmen, who had always resided on the frontiers, forming the connecting link between civilized and savage men; and who did not, in their emigration to the west, form any new acquaintance with the perils of the wilderness. They had been inhabitants of the long line of frontier lying east of the Alleghany mountains; were the descendants of men, whose lives had been spent in fierce contests with the Indians; and were themselves accustomed from infancy, to the vicissitudes of hunting and border warfare. A few of them came from Pennsylvania and Maryland, but the great body from Virginia and North Carolina.

Strictly speaking, they were not farmers; for, although they engaged in agriculture, they depended chiefly on their guns for subsistence; and were allured to the west, rather by the glories of the boundless forest and the abundance of game, than by the fertility of the new lands and the ample resources of the country. They came singly or in small parties, careless of protection and fearless of consequences.

Their first residence was a camp; a frail shelter formed of poles and bark, carefully concealed in some retired spot, in which they hid the spoils of the chase, and to which they sometimes crept for repose at night, or slept away the long inclement days, when the hunter and his prey were alike driven by the storm to seek the shelter of their coverts. At other times, they roamed abroad, either engaged in hunting, or in making long journies of exploration; sleeping in the open air, and feeding upon the fruits of the forest and the flesh of wild animals, without bread or condiment.

Excerpt from SKETCHES OF HISTORY, LIFE, AND MANNERS INTHE FAR WEST; by James Hall (1834)

#pioneers #frontier life #frontiersmen #old west #backwoodsmen #backwoods #longhunters #the way west #frontiersman #james hall #great books

[zachfett]

Natural Selection 2 (2012, Unknown Worlds Entertainment)

These screenshots are from 2014, hence the low resolution. It's a shame only a few hundred play this now, it was such a fun multiplayer experience back in it's prime.

Thankfully the few hundred still playing are all very dedicated to the game, and there's modders releasing community balance mods to this day.

Here's hoping at some point the devs do a Natural Selection 3, but I know they're busy with a Subnautica sequel at the moment.

#Natural Selection 2 #2012 #Unknown Worlds Entertainment #Kharaa #Frontiersmen #Aliens vs Marines #Charlie Cleveland #Natural Selection #multiplayer #FPS #first person shooter #fps games #real time strategy #RTS #Unknown Worlds #Subnautica devs #NS2 #PC #pc games #video games #gaming #virtual photography #gaming photography #my screenshots #in game photography #video game photography #games #pc gaming #Steam

[arlenschumer]

My portrait of DANIEL BOONE--born on this day in 1734--who was NOT who you THOUGHT he was! arlenschumer.com #danielboone #arlenschumer #americanhistory #frontiersmen #mountainmen #illustrator #illustrationartists #illustrations #portrait #portraitdrawing @dgareps @adamschumer @richardsyrettstrangeplanet https://www.instagram.com/p/CkdnLkgLM-d/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#danielboone #arlenschumer #americanhistory #frontiersmen #mountainmen #illustrator #illustrationartists #illustrations #portrait #portraitdrawing

[shamrockqueen]

Country Roads

Pairing : Dark frontiersman Bucky x runaway reader

Warnings : Noncon, Sex in a Wagon, Squirting, Fingering, Smut, Vaginal Sex

Word count : 4341

AO3 Link

You’d walked what felt like too damn long. Your boots scuffed the dirt as your sore feet failed to lift high enough off the ground. Shuffling the best you could, you thought you could have made it farther before sundown, but you just didn’t have it in you.

Lookin back, you probably shouldn’t have walked away from the homestead and into the dusty brown yonder thinkin you’d find your place in the world. You were young, kinda dumb, and had just about run out of steam to go on.

Every step of this journey had been done on a whim. Dreams of walking away from it all to a better place had plagued you since you were knee high, and you told yourself that one day you’d get up and never look back.

Now, as your feet ached with each step, you wished you could remember the way home, or at least had something worth going home to. It was a small farm with about five too many mouths to feed. Nothing good ever grew out there, so there wasn’t any point in staying. But, with nowhere to go, was it worth leaving?

Through the pain you just kept trudging down the old wagon trail. It hadn’t had much use in a long while, but you thought there’d be at least one cart to cross your path. Someone kind that’ll let’cha hitch a ride.

No such luck, at least you thought as much. It was then when a speck in the distance began moving closer to you.

The steer came into focus alongside the wagon they were pullin, and you started waving your arms wildly in the air to catch its attention. You hoped it would see you and stop in time so as to not run you over. When it came to a full stop, your legs finally gave out. Now that salvation had come, they were done holding your weight. The driver nearly leapt from his seat as he saw you hit the dirt.

The wooden wheels stood tall, and the hand that reached out towards you was like the hand of God pulling you to heaven. It was only the right hand of the driver helping you off the ground, but it felt like a miracle. You amble to your feet rather unsteadily as this total stranger grappled you by your shoulders to lift you back up.

You reached for his shirt to pull yourself forward as he tried to stand you back up.

In a flash he slipped his arm under your legs and hoisted you to his chest, having grown tired with your dance of fatigue. The heat had made you delirious, and as the sun shone overhead it darkened the features of your would-be savior. You could almost hear him murmur to himself as he slipped you into the back of his wagon.

Like picking up a starving dog from the side of the road, he loaded you up among his cargo without question. It was then that the tiredness felt along your whole body took hold of you, and the white cloth of the wagon roof blurred to black.

Whatever amount of rest God had graced you with soon ceased as the moon light poured into the small space within the back of the wagon. It wasn’t moving anymore and as you tried to get up your weight made the old wood of the floorboards creak.

You got to your knees and crawled towards the opening at the back, and shuffled through the hole to stumbled onto the ground below.

There was a faint glow on the other side, so you wandered towards it, and were greeted by him as he sat by his fire.

He had pulled off of the road and set up his camp for the night after finding you and having to stow you away in his cart. As you rounded closer he stood up to greet you with a “look who’s finally awake.”

Without the sun blurring out the image of your ‘savior’ you have a chance to actually get a good look at him.

He was tall, with a shaggy head of short brown hair hidden under his hat. A few stray pieces stuck out from underneath but weren't too noticeable. He had a nicely built frame that was shaped by the clothes still clinging to his arms and midsection. He was also sweaty, and looked as if he’d been riding around for a good many days.

But, what stuck out the most were the dark shimmer of blue in his eyes that got more profound the closer he came to you.

The way the light of the fire sparkled over them like an island oasis. It drew you in like a curious little moth.

You didn’t think you’d been staring too long until he asked if you’d heard him. You must have missed his question and he caught on to that real quick. Yet, real gentleman-like; he just asked you again “Are you alright?”

You shake your head to cut your vision loose from his face. Maybe then you could think properly. “Y-yes. How long have I been sleeping?”

“Long enough, I thought you might not wake up.”

You were glad to have not been roasted like a plump chicken under that heat. All thanks to this kind stranger before you.

“T-thank you for helping me.” You found your tongue knotting up as you tried to speak to him, but he deserved the gratitude for having scooped you up into safety.

He nodded along and mustered up a smile before returning to his seat by the fire. He motioned to it, figuring you came out to enjoy its heat.

You shuffled closer and sat about a foot from him. You absorbed the warmth from the flames almost immediately, and it brought new life to your aching body. Yet, there remained a chill running along your spine as you sat near this complete stranger who had taken you into his care for the time being.

He turned to you and asked “So..What were you doin out on the road by yourself?”

You could imagine he had a fair amount of unanswered questions, seeing as his cargo had been out cold for the better part of the day.

But, the issue at hand was that you didn’t have a very good reason to give him. You didn’t want to just blurt out that you’d run away from home when nobody was looking.

“I just didn’t have anyone to come with me.” It was the best answer you could come up with, and it technically wasn’t a lie. Still, he raised an eyebrow at your response.

“Where were ya headed? He asked as he poked at the fire.

If you’d chosen to be truthful, you would have said you didn’t have a damn idea where you were headed. Yet, it seemed better not to show off the poor choices you’d made just by leaving home and going west.

“Silverton” the name just slipped off of your tongue without much thought as you tried to get comfortable.

“Silverton?”

You didn’t even bother to nod, surrendering to the preposterousness of your answer. Silverton was miles away from home, and you would have sooner perished than even dream of reaching it just by walking. He knew this, and just continued talking through your silence. “You’re headed to Silverton? On foot? With no supplies?”

“I guess I didn’t think things out very well.” It was, and understatement, but true nonetheless.

It was at this moment he’d finally started connecting the dots around your situation.

“Hm. What’s waiting for you there?” He asked.

“Planning to head west to seek some fortune of my own for a change.” You nearly mumbled every word, growing less excited about the prospect of continuing this doomed journey.

“No one is waiting for you back home? A young thing like you oughta be missed by somebody.” He’d seen right through you. Runaways aren’t often found and only shortly mourned for in these times. You had been determined to walk away from home and never turn back. Now you don’t know where to go from this point.

“Not a soul.” Was all you gave him.

He pursed his lips. The look he was giving you was most likely one of pity. You almost pitied yourself at this point.

“I don’t think I caught your name.” The statement was a well-needed change of pace, and he cocked a small smile as he spoke. It was nice being able to smile back. “I guess I haven’t been in much of a state to give it to you.”

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

You could help the chuckle that escaped your chest. This finally gave you the opportunity to change the conversation to something less serious.

“You first.” You spoke as your weak smile got stronger. Just for a moment at least. “James, but everyone calls me Bucky.”

You give him your name and he tries it out. It slips off his tongue with ease, and he says it suits you.

You wonder to yourself, who might’ve given him a nickname like that. It was a sweet encounter, and come morning he asked if you needed a lift to the next town at least. You agreed, not wanting to turn back and not wanting to leave his presence.

He snapped the reins to get the cattle moving, and the cart bumped and shook along the uneven road. The wood of the shotgun seat creaked beneath you.

For a moment the only sounds between you were small rocks getting kicked up by the steer, getting knocked among the wheels. You’d just hopped onto the first buggy that came your way and were seated right next to a complete stranger. You had to at least talk to him.

“So..Where are you headed?”

“Home.” Wasn’t a very descriptive answer. Still you persisted. “Home…where?”

This time he was quicker to speak up “White oaks, a little farther south than your intended destination.”

“I see. I suppose then you’ll be cuttin me loose on one leg of the journey?”

“Suppose I might, but then I might not. Best not worry your little head too hard about it.”

He was a man of few words and great contemplation. Every mile passed seemed to drag on longer and longer. When the sun finally started to set, he turned the steer off of the road into a clearing. He stopped the rig there and hopped off. When he turned to you this time his tone and character twisted somewhat harshly.

He was a man of the frontier, often gruff and maybe rude without realizing it. So, when you hear him shout “I’m stoppin off here for tonight. If you wanna keep moving, you can walk from here.” You didn’t hold too much of it against him.

It was his way of giving you an out, but you didn’t take it. You were not gonna be walkin in the dark and so you just asked to share his camp again. He obliged with a pat to your shoulder, and sent you off to find some dry wood for a simple fire as he tethered the steer to a nearby tree.

When your hands were filled with enough branches and wispy sticks, you came scuttling back to the little encampment he’d set up. He handed him the kindling and sat back on a small blanket he’d set out for you.

Evening turns at night and soon the small fire flowed brighter underneath a blackened sky. You sat across from him as you were petting one of the steer.

He’d cooked some rabbit he caught hopping too close to the wagon. He’d said it would be better to eat fresher meat than to use up all the dried stuff. Made for a mighty good meal.

Any conversation was far and few until he starts to dig at the story you’d made up on the ride over. “You’re certain you wanna go all the way to Silverton?”

You let out a weak laugh before answering “I don’t know anymore.” You look down at the hem of your dress and purse your lips into a pout. “Everyone else gets to leave; why can’t I?”

“So you walked away with nothing?”

“Wasn’t anything there to take.”

He scoffs “kinda dumb of you to do that. Something really bad could’ve happened.”

You don’t think too much into his lecturing, and move the conversation into another direction.

“Anything at home waiting for you?” You mirrored one of his previous questions in a different light in an effort to know more about this man named Bucky.

“Not really. Just the farm.”

“What do you grow?” Meager conversation seemed better than silence, but now you weren’t so sure.

He sighed before answering with “Not much at the moment. It was a recent purchase.”

“Really? What made you decide to buy a farm?”

“I was once a soldier, and some new land was what I received as payment for my service.”

“You were a soldier?” He just nods back at my question.

There wasn’t much light to make out very many of his features, but when he leaned in closer to the fire it helped show the finer details of old scars hidden past the collar of his shirt.

It wasn’t unusual for military types to have been cut up in the line of duty. There was a particularly large one beginning at his wrist, only to hide under his sleeve, but possibly peek back out at his shoulder.

This became another moment where he caught you staring, only this time his other hand covers the visible portion of the scar. “I’ve seen better days,” he said. “War often makes good men into something ugly..”

You're quick to cut him off “Mister, there ain’t no artist in this world that could make anything half as lovely as God made you. You AIN’T ugly”

A small smile breaks out on his face. The scruff of his beard curled up along with it.

You miss the glint of something darker that hides behind that smile as you turn back to scratch the top of the steer’s fuzzy head as he payed beside the both of you.

When the night grew heavier, he let you crawl up into the wagon to sleep. He said he’d stay by the fire, and you believed him as you curled up into an old blanket he’d kept stashed in his supplies.

In truth he had no intention of staying outside; and when he heard your breathing deepen with the call of slumber, he got up from his spot beside the fire. He walked over to check the tether on the steer to make sure no noise would send them running off into the night.

Then he approached the closed flap of the covered wagon. Slowly he undid the ties holding the fabric closed before pushing it aside.

He doesn’t bother to tie them back up; you won’t be getting away. You were so small, so naive, and so vulnerable. He wanted to take his time, just to get a second to taste you properly.

He leaned in near your face to get a better view of your calm features as you slept. Someone had to have missed you somewhere. He certainly would have.

Bucky leaned in closer until his lips just barely brushed yours. Your nose flinched from the contact, but nothing more. He then pressed farther to let the tip of his tongue trace your bottom lip, and this time the corner of your mouth twitched.

His hands had hovered over your clothed thighs this whole time, as he tried to keep himself from engulfing you completely. This wouldn’t last long as his patience finally wore out.

His lips pressed into yours so as to lock you into him, and his fingers slipped in under the hem of your dress to feel the delicate part of you that was hidden underneath.

His palms were warm over your cool skin as he forced your head back against the wooden slats of the floorboards.

He was right to be weary of you stirring from his touch. You woke up almost immediately after his lips covered yours and his tongue swept over your teeth. He couldn’t help but get closer, covering your body with his like a thick weighted blanket.

Your body jolted under the harsh hold he had you under simply by instinct, and you began to squirm and even try to scream. No matter what, every move was hindered by his wandering limbs and every decibel choked up in the back of your throat as his mouth melted into yours.

Sweat built up on your forehead and likewise under his cotton shirt as his chest pressed into yours. Your skin was soft under the rough palms as he scrambled to feel as much as he could grab.

He didn’t even pull away as he pushed the skirt of your dress towards the top of your stomach to get it out of his way.

His knees had to pin your legs open for him as you were barely able to kick free. Your limbs were abnormally heavy as he had you pinned beneath him. You wanted to kick; you wanted to scratch at him and scream. Just as you wanted to walk away from everything, eventually your legs went limp and your spirit faded. Until he found you. Even now, as the light in your heart went dim, a new warmth spread through your body, spreading up your spine and pulling in hidden places.

The thin cotton that still covered you was almost no barrier as he slipped his fingers beneath it and pulled it aside. In the dark wagon your flower was barely visible as his fingers sought after its core.

“To think, you walked away from home and right into my arms” his was a deep purr against your lips. Each word was said between single locking kisses, giving you enough time to breathe but nothing else.

“You were doomed to wander until I found you.” He squeezed his body closer to yours as one of his fingers found their destination.

“Sto..p" the word got caught too hard in your throat, as he had pushed past the little opening to curl said finger inside to widen you better for him.

Your body clamped and twitched in protest as a slick substance began to form around his intruding digit.

“Don’t worry. You’ll change your tune when I find your sweet spot.” It wasn’t long before another finger pushed its way inside to spread you farther apart. The stretch made your insides burn a little more with each pull and tug.

You reached a hand up to him in an effort to push him away, but it only clung onto his sleeve as his fingers twisted inside you. When your muffled sounds of protest had turned into a soft whimper, his lips slipped from yours to trail down your throat. Your insides flexed around his fingers as he continued to work them back and forth.

“That feel good darling? I bet it does. I can feel your fighting around my fingers.”

Your flower was wet and open for him as he began strumming at a different tune, and a new sensation could be felt tickling along your inner walls. You surprise even him with the little noises that escape your throat.

He smiles warmly against your skin as he coaxes this new feeling to its peak.

Your whole body is shaking and joints at your knees twitch and jerk with each drag of his fingers. It feels like your body is alite, spreading warmth from your ears to the tips of your fingers and blossoming out of your overworked pussy.

It was all too much, and as your body let go of him as a small jet of liquid shot forth past your folds to splatter onto the wood.

You struggled to catch your breath when he finally let you go. You hadn’t realized you’d been holding it, and now you felt as if you couldn’t suck in enough air to keep conscious. It even took you a moment too long to realize he was no longer on top of you as he’d sat up. The blue of his eyes glittered with the little bit of moonlight that had shown through the open flap of the wagon. He was admiring you, all of you.

“Beautiful.” He gritted out as he dug his fingers into your thighs. You would have winced in pain had you any sense to do so. The next moment his hands slipped from you to his trousers. In the dark you could hear the clicking of his belt as he pulled at his clothes.

This was your moment, you were completely unhindered, and yet you stayed laying on that harsh wooden floor. You could've hopped up and made another run for it; it hadn’t stopped you before.

No food, no horse, not even a change of clothes, and you still walked away from everything. But, now, with all that would be looming over you again, you didn’t move to run. The window of freedom opened and closed as he returned to hover above you.

“It may hurt, but I’ll go easy on you.” You didn’t register much of what he said and couldn’t see him aligning himself to your abused core until you felt him spread your lower lips and prod at the open area with his member.

The intrusion aggravates your sore points and brings sharp new rivulets of pain. It finally shot some adrenaline into your muscles and your hands grappled at his shoulders. Will real effort this time you tried to shove him off. Heat was spreading through your joints and in your chest as you tried in vain to fight off the pain from your body stretching over its limit.

It's like a white hot flame burning up your lower body and it has thick tears brimming in your eyes. The sounds that came from your throat had the steer jumping at the noise, and he pushed himself to the hilt.

The pain simmered and melted as he moved inside of you. His cocked dragged against a deep untouched part of you that had chills running through your nerves. Your hands still clenched around his biceps and this time you held on for dear life. No more did you push him away as his pace had gotten harder and your body instead fluttered around him.

The wheels swayed and the floorboards creaked in protest to his movement as he shook your body with his.

Your head was swimming, and the wood began to spin in with the cloth of the wagon cover. His thrusts grew more desperate and even sloppy, but you could barely tell. Your mind melted and your body was burning so hot you felt like you’d suffocate.

Your body quacked and twitched around him as all the heat in the lower body finally erupted. You could feel the tears roll down your burning cheeks, as well as the air rushing into your lungs.

He stilled with a final rough thrust, and fell upon you like a thick blanket. Your little hands were locked into fists around the fabric of his shirt as it clung to his sides.

Your breathing was still too thin and a pang of pain rocked deep in your head before you dropped back down to the floor of the wagon. Just as you first found your ladle in his care only one night prior, your surroundings twisted and blurred together. Only instead of seeing light, the world went black. It wouldn’t stay that way for long.

It’s awfully strange they way things seemed to repeat, and this time when the walls of the wagon spun into view, you felt as if you were spinning with it. It nearly made you sick and instead of sitting up you curled into a ball as the wagon shook and jumped to life.

Your companion Bucky called back to you from the open area at the front where he was directing the steer along the road. In a single night he had packed up camp and driven away, with you tucked up in the back like precious cargo.

You lifted up onto the back of your elbows. More so to roll over into your knees, as opposed to actually standing in the moving cart.

From the small opening at the front you saw the back of Bucky’s shirt still clinging to his broad shoulders, and the loose bits of hair that stuck out of the back of his brimmed hat.

There was no way to turn back anymore, even if you truly wanted to, and any attempts to move in a direction separate from your now captured might be hindered by that same man. Even if he let you run away, there was still the obvious question of whether or not you’d survive on your own. This was what kept you in the cart, still seated there on the floor.

You didn’t question what he’d done, nor did you lunge at him or scream. Oddly enough, the only words you tossed in his direction were “where are we going?”

He spared you a glance over his shoulder and answered “Home”

You stayed silent after that, just letting the cart hopefully rock back to sleep. Short visions of your mother and even some of your siblings flashed under your eyelids as you shut them tight to hold in the offending tears that threatened to spill.

You’d known you’d be leaving them all behind when you left the house, and even when you grew painfully tired, you never once turned around.

So as you curled back into a ball on the now warm wood, and tried to accept your fate.

Want more Bucky? Then check out Bucky’s masterlist!

#dark frontier #dark frontiersmen Bucky #dark bucky barnes #dark bucky x reader #historical #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky smut #soldier bucky #bucky x you #bucky fic #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #frontiersmen Bucky

[hoplite-miniatures]

Some future projects I already have mapped out are

definitely fishing my tau sept

Starting my gaurd/marine fleet concept

And dabbling in an imperial navy squadron to keep things mixed up

#warhammer 40k #future and currwnt projects #i still need to write the frontiersmens lore #and ive basically just scratched the concept of a fighter squadron

[nunchler]

every time i see trad gender roles people being weird about fibercraft i wanna tell them

-medieval and early modern knitting guilds were full of men learning and perfecting fancy knitting techniques to impress rich clients

-in cold, wet climates like the scottish highlands knitting was done by the whole family, in fact it was the perfect activity to do while a man was out on a fishing boat or in the pasture with his sheep and cattle

-men who were away from women for a long time had to know how to knit and sew at least well enough to mend their own clothes. soldiers knitted. sailors knitted. cowboys and frontiersmen knitted. vikings probably knitted (actually they would have been doing a kind of proto knitting called nalbinding, but that's beside the point). all those guys the far right love to treat as ultra masculine heroes were sitting around their barracks and campfires at night darning their socks and knitting themselves little hats

[silentangell95]

Филми и сериали: Ноември

#филми #сериали #ноември #Mare fuori season 1 #The Fallout #The Men Who Built America Frontiersmen #Wayne #Страсти по Матвею

[den-ai-d]

The Frontiersmen🤠

Starting the year strong with these two of course 😌

Lynn's side under the cut

#art #fan art #all saints street #lynn angel #nick hoult #wan sheng jie #yup #part three in the lynn and nick mirrored pose series #this time with GUNS

[vnynv]

a fear you can't shake off

#tf2 sniper #sniper #tf2 art #tf2 fanart #team fortress 2 #send his ass to the unease chamber #🚐 art #digital art #mick mundy #mind always blank when i try to tag things #frontiersmen

[beefrobeefcal]

Dark!Frankie Saga: VII

Chapter Seven: Bring It Home

Pairing: Dark!Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Summary:

Boston. The Frontiersmen is a crime syndicate that deals in drugs, arms, and anything else they can to keep themselves on top. Since the original ring leader, Tom, was allegedly taken out by a rival gang, it's now run by Big Fish, with Pope second in command. Ironhead runs the numbers and Benny is the muscle. Your family member put you down as collateral when they needed credit to score more smack. Problem is, they can't pay it back, and Big Fish & the Frontiersmen always get their payment...

Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI)

Chapter Word Count: 3,740

Content Warning: angst, threats of violence, crime, snark, Major Character Death, stabbing, violence, betrayal, kissing

Author's Notes:

Y'all, I know you had big dreams for this chapter... and I thank you for your patience. Please don't hate me 🥺

The biggest, juiciest, wettest thank you to @neverwheremoonchild for being the Beta Fish for Big Fish (get it? Beta'ing the story about Big Fi-... okay, you got it). Thank you, Nevy! 💜🥩💜

thank you to the following for being supportive good eggs & sounding boards: @theywhowriteandknowthings @toxicanonymity @xdaddysprincessxx @thehalflifeofloveisforever @rebel-held @gracieispunk

And this is not the Chubby!Frankie we know and love in the Catfish & the Mouse universe; he's dark, mean, and hungry. I'll be updating this each week (Monday/Tuesday) until you lose interest or I finish it - let's see what happens first! when i feel like it👌

On the Waterfront Masterlist | Previous Chapter

--------<3---------

From the time Frankie pulled you onto his lap at the bowling alley to when he stood with you at your bedroom door, you felt like you were in a dream. A beautiful, hazy dream that you were pretty sure was going to end with him fucking you in your bed.

“You did good tonight, Honey.”, Frankie said sweetly, cupping your jaw and cheek in his big hand.

You couldn’t help but stare back, falling further for him through his deep, brown eyes. He but the softness in his gaze hardened as he sucked in a breath and released your face, stepping back. He broke the connection with you and looked away. He cleared his throat and nodded towards your door, leaving you feeling cold and confused. What did you do wrong?

“Night, baby girl...”, he mumbled as he turned, heading towards the lounge.

You opened your mouth to say something to him, but all you could do was feel your body react to the lack of his touch and your cheeks burn from the rogue tears that fell. You were alone in the hallway, and you didn’t know why.

*****

Pope had been outside in the shadows, trying to remain inconspicuous while on his phone, when the blacked-out SUV pulled up at the front doors.

“Yes, I know!... fuck you... I’ll call you back...”, he hissed quietly into his phone before ending the call and focused on the two of you returning.

He watched as Frankie got out of the SUV, holding his hand out to you, and saw the stupid look on Frankie’s face as he helped you down from the vehicle. Pope shook his head and rolled his eyes, watching Frankie pull you in for a disgustingly sweet kiss before he tugged you into the building.

He scoffed as he brought his phone back up to call his contact back, a message popped up on the screen.

Steven is done. Now what?

Pope grinned as his deviously sadistic mind’s wheels turned; he pocketed his phone and walked into the building.

*****

Frankie’s heart was beating fast as he walked away from you, and his palms were sweating as he clenched his fists. He didn’t stop until he was standing in his office, shakily sucking in his breaths, and he allowed himself to think about what had just happened. It was one thing for him to go down on you in the bowling alley and hold you as your body came back down – he was still in control. But looking in your eyes as you looked back at him, seeing the same thing he felt staring right back told him he was no longer holding the reigns in this, and it terrified him to his core. He felt like you could see who he really was under his harsh and mean exterior; under it all he was just the former drug addict who battled his demons daily to keep himself upright; just the man who made himself bigger so he could be respected, because no one was going to respect a scrawny junkie. And if you did see it, why did you still want him at all? Did you see weakness? Did you know that just asking him for a kiss would make him weak in the knees? Why did he allow you to get under his skin?

He was finally broken from his trance when the door to the office opened behind him. Frankie whirled around and found himself facing Pope.

“Fish... you got a sec?”, Pope asked, cautiously approaching him, with a judgmental eyebrow raised. When Frankie nodded, trying to shake the weakness of you from his mind, Pope nodded back in kind.

“What d’you need?”, Frankie said coolly as he made his way around his desk and sat down heavily on his chair.

Pope walked up to the desk and leaned heavily on, deciding not to tell Frankie that he saw him come back with you, and how he saw the look on his face and knew what it meant. He instead decided to set in motion what he hoped would be the last thing he needed to.

“I got a message... from one of the grunts under Will... he was making the rounds and checking in on people that owe us...”, he said quietly, trying to sound nervous about what he was going to say. “and, he - uh…”,

“Fuckin’ spit it out, Pope.”, Frankie groaned after a deep sigh, rubbing his eyes.

“He went to Steven’s...”

“Who the fuck is that and why do I care?”, he growled, not looking up at him. “Get to the fuckin’ point!”

“It’s your girl’s brother...”

“What about him?”

“He’s dead.”

Frankie looked up at Pope, feeling his blood run cold.

*****

After being left on your own, you sat in your room, feeling the buzz from the beer slipping away and letting your thoughts drift towards more nefarious avenues. It hurt to know that no matter what happened, you would end up alone; your brother sold you out for more drugs, Benny hated and abandoned you, Will threw you into the lion’s den, and Frankie didn’t want you beyond getting what he could from you. And Pope... you knew what Pope wanted and it made your skin crawl.

The tears that you’d cried had mixed with your make up had dried on your face, leaving your skin feeling itchy and tacky. You needed to clean yourself up and give yourself some comfort, even if it was small. You stepped into the shower and tried to wash away your sadness.

After drying off and getting into your pajamas, you once again sat in your room alone. The weight of solitude was heavy on you, so much so, you could barely stand it. All you could do was pick up your Kindle and try to distract yourself until you fell asleep.

*****

Benny sat back and watched the other guys play a round of foosball. They’d invited him to join but he’d waved them off. He’d wanted to sulk and be angry with no interference; he couldn’t get your face out of his head from the last time he’d seen you the night before, and Frankie’s words to him sounded off like a fire alarm in his skull: She’s not here for you. Stick your dick in literally anything else, but that is mine.

He’d replayed your last interaction with him over and over in his mind over the past 24 hours, building up more rage and fury over how stupid you were being. He didn’t want you for himself; he wanted something better for you. There’s no way Frankie could offer you what you deserve. Fuck, no one in this fucking building could. He sneered as he shook his head, anger rising further each time Frankie’s words bleated in his brain and deafened the rest of his thoughts. Frankie told him to fuck anything like you weren’t even a person. You were just part of the wide scope of anything, like an object he could own and devour like he did everything else he wanted.

Will watched Benny silently from across the room. He saw his brother furiously twisting his hands and clenching his jaw; saw the vein in his forehead pop out as his face turned red with rage. Will knew he was at fault for this; he knew Benny had a soft spot for vulnerable people, especially women. He knew Frankie was wrong about how Benny felt, but he wasn’t willing to correct him and confirm that Benny wanted to fuck her as much as Frankie wanted to diet. But the powder keg that was hitting a critical point across the room in his brother was far more worrisome than he’d accounted for, given even a day going by hadn’t managed to dampen his rage. Benny could be a dangerous man, given the right mindset, and he wasn't afraid of violence or being violent. It was the reason he was so valuable to the Frontiersmen - he wasn’t afraid of getting his hands dirty for the right cause, and Will worried that you were becoming the right reason for Benny to unleash that terrible dog in him at Frankie.

As Will decided it was in everyone’s best interest to try and quell the fire, Pope walked in with a smug grin aimed directly at his brother, and Will felt like he was about to watch a train derail.

“What’s with the long face, fucker?”, Pope crooned sadistically as he sauntered towards Benny.

“Fuck off, Pope.”, he growled in response, his eyes glaring up at the smiling man.

 Will saw the determined, toothy smile breakout over Pope’s face as he squatted down in front of Benny.

“What’s the matter, baby Benny?”, Pope mockingly cooed, amusement bleeding from his tone. “You mad that Fish is cockblocking you from that sweet little puss – “

Benny’s hand jutting out and gripping Pope’s throat stopped him from finishing his sentence. He stood up, pulling Pope into a standing position as he stared wide eyed and clawed at Benny’s arm and wrist, gasping and choking.

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”, Benny snarled, pulling Pope’s face close to his.

Will ran up beside Benny and gripped his shoulder, shaking him. “Benny! Drop’im!”

He yanked Benny’s arm back and Pope collapsed on the floor, gasping and coughing.

“GET YOUR FUCKIN’ HANDS OFF ME!”, Benny roared as Will’s arms wrapped around him form behind and pulled him back.

“Fuck you, Pope! Fuck you 'n fuck your fuckin’ smug mouth!”, Benny screamed at him as Will continued to restrain him. ‘FUCK, WILL! LET ME THE FUCK GO! I’ll FUCKIN’ KILL YOU!”

Will knew Benny didn’t mean it. Sure, he’d probably take a swing and hit him – he’d done it before. But beyond that, he knew it was Benny’s rage talking.

Pope shakily looked up at Benny and offered him a cruel smile. Benny saw red; that fucker fueled his blinding rage, and he threw Will off him, storming out of the rec room.

“Don’t move, Pope!”, Will yelled, pointing his finger at him as he turned and ran out after Benny.

Pope smiled, watching him leave after his brother, seeing a brand-new opportunity. Fortune favours the brave…

*****

Benny was on a rampage. Like a rabid bear, he stalked the hallways, making a beeline to the barracks. He’d walked right past Frankie’s office, not even considering stopping there first to tear into him over what he was doing. Will quickly caught up to him, yelling for him to stop.

Frankie sat in his office chair. He heard heavy footsteps coming towards the door and he looked up, but they moved past.  He thought nothing of it until he heard Will.

“Ben! Stop!... Stop 'n take a fuckin’ breather, man!”

“FUCK YOU AND FUCK POPE AND FUCK FISH AND FUCK THAT STUPID BITCH!”

“You’re not thinkin’ this through! You don’t wanna hurt her, Ben! BENNY!”

Will’s panicked voice caught Frankie’s attention and he stood up, listening to the sounds move further down the hallway. He knew not to get in Benny’s way when he was mad, but he was heading towards you and the idea of Benny being in this foul of a mood and even Will wasn’t able to placate him didn’t sit well with him.

Benny threw the doors to the Barracks open and screamed your name. Even being in a separate area, the volume at which he called you made you jump. You dropped your Kindle on the bed and moved cautiously to your door. You clicked the flimsy lock on the doorknob, and you jumped heard the door to the hallway slam against the wall from how hard it was flung open.

Your heart was beating deafeningly loud in your ears, and you backed away from the door as the thumping footsteps got closer and your doorknob jiggled.

Just as soon as you were mentally thanking what every deity was listening for that lock, the door was kicked open and there was Benny. Breathing hard, his face twisted in a snarl and his fists clenched.

You looked up at him, not sure what he was going to do. “Benny... wha - “

“You're so fuckin’ dumb!”, he yelled, stomping towards you and cutting you off. “You’re fuckin’ smarter than this!”

He stood over you, his hot furious breaths fanning over your face. You tried to back away, but he grabbed at your arm.

“Don’t fuckin’ move!”, he yelled in your face, his hold on you tightening.

You yelped and tried to pull away from his grip. He shoved you back, sending you to the floor. Shock gave way to fear and anger as he stalked towards you, and you scrambled back into a standing position.

“Just fuckin’ stay down, you- “

“What do you want from me?!”, you cut him off, yelling in a cracked voice as tears welled up in your eyes.

His eyes narrowed at you and his scowl set further in his face. “I want you to smarten the fuck up! I want you to stop bein’ a dumb bitch!”

You angrily wiped at the tear that fell down your cheek, and, for a brief moment, Benny’s eyes looked at you almost horrified at what was happening. Your face contorted with a frown, and you pushed him with all your strength, making him take a small step back to keep his balance.

Neither of you knew that Will was in the hallway watching this unfold, not sure how to intervene, and his focus was torn away from you both as Frankie walked into the hallway and stood next to Will, ready to jump in.

“What is your problem?!”, you screamed at him.

His menacing glare returned, and he stepped up to you, challenging you.

“My fuckin’ problem is you’re not thinkin’ with your goddamned brain!”, he bellowed. “My problem is you’re thinkin’ with your pussy like a fuckin’ whore- “

Before you could register your actions, your hand harshly made contact with his face; you slapped him hard.

The room fell silent, and Benny’s head snapped back to you, all fury gone. What was left was the look of hurt and disappointment, and you weren’t sure who it was directed at – you or himself. Will rushed in and grabbed Benny, hauling him back. Benny’s eyes didn’t leave yours until Will had dragged him out of the room, cursing at him for his temper.

And once again, you were alone. Your chin quivered and your body trembled as the rage dissipated from your system, replaced with shame and remorse. What did you do?

Before you could collapse under the weight of your actions, Frankie stepped into the doorway.

You raised your eyes to him and held back a sob as you shook your head, silently saying please – I can’t handle any more.

“Baby girl...”, he spoke softly as he walked slowly towards you and pulled you into his arms. You tried pushing him back, but he gently used his strength against you, holding you in his embrace. His gentleness after the harsh intensity of what you’d just experienced with Benny broke you, and you let out a heavy sob that wracked your body. His large hand held your head against his chest and he murmured softly, trying to soothe you.

“I’m so sorry, baby girl... come on, Honey... calm down... he’s gone... I know, baby... I know... he’s gone now... I’m sorry... he doesn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground, baby... he doesn’t know what he's talkin’ about...”

“Stop... just stop!”, you squirmed out of his hold and stood back from him. You furiously wiped your face again and shook your head. “He’s right! He’s right about everyth - “

“No, baby girl... no, he’s not!”, Frankie pleaded, holding his hand out to you, beckoning you to come to him.

It made you angrier, his actions seemingly still trying to train you to be his good little bitch, coming when he calls. You shook your head, rage taking over. “I’m not a fucking dog! You don’t order me around like one!”

His voice was so soft. “Baby... Honey, please...”

“No! Mr. fucking Morales! He’s right - I’m just another one of your dumb whores that you can throw away! I’m no better than that bitch you had on your lap at the bowling alley! You just keep me like a pet and bring me out when you need a fuckin’ fix! You don’t want me - no one does!”

You didn’t realize you were screaming at him and walking towards him.  Frankie’s hands were held up, trying to calm you. His eyes were wide and pleading, his mouth was open and frowning, as he shook his head.

“Baby girl… shhhhh… no… no, Honey…”, he shook his head, and cooed, moving towards you again. “No, Honey… you got it all wrong…”

“Don’t…”, you warned as you stepped back, glaring up at him. To Frankie, you must have looked like a cornered, feral cat, fueled by rage and fear.

You didn’t intimidate him. He reached out and cupped your cheek, as he’d done countless times before, but this time you pulled out of his grasp.

You didn’t scare him. But he needed your softness back; this harsh and jaded version of you hurt him in ways he didn’t know he could be wounded. His heart ached as his other arm wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you into him again. He smoothed his hand over your jaw, his thumb gently caressing your lips. You tried, albeit half-heartedly, to get away, but he saw the softness slipping back into your eyes.

You didn’t deter him. “Don’t push me away, baby girl…”, he said softly, bringing his face close. He ghosted his lips over yours. “I want you here… with me.”

He pressed his lips gently against yours. Your resolve to fight dissolved and you wrapped your arms around his neck, grasping for more contact with him. Opening your mouth to deepen the kiss, he followed suit, slipping his tongue against yours. You were both desperate. Yes, you’d fooled around in a bowling alley, but this was something that wasn’t scratching an itch or a power play; this was the two of you finally, without words, admitting that you needed one another on a baser, more human level.

Frankie pulled back first, breathing heavily and his eyes scanned yours, asking silently for more. You nodded, and with that, he grabbed your hand and pulled you out of your room and into his.

*****

After his run in with Benny and making sure his windpipe wasn’t crushed, Pope was back outside around the building in an alleyway. Hidden in the shadows, the only sign of his presence was his phone screen lighting up his face.

As he searched through images confirming Steven’s demise, a call came through. He answered it quietly, keeping his voice low but harsh.

“I need more time - … no, you don’t understand, he - ... I know that was the deal, but you gotta hear me out- … I can’t just… I know it has to look like an accide-… I tried! The fuckin’ little brother… Yeah… fuck, no… No… I know, but I ca-… fuck. Okay… I understand… Yes! Fuck! I got it!”

Will watched from the far end of the building. Pope’s voice, although quiet, carried, and Will’s mind raced, putting piece by piece together, not quite being able to wrap his mind around what he was hearing. He didn’t know what he was up to, but he knew he didn’t like it.

He watched as Pope hung up and stopped himself from throwing his phone against the wall, and he clenched his fists and teeth. Will moved on his feet, causing the gravel to shift and crunch under him.

“What do you want, Will?”

He stopped, feeling his body tense at Pope’s recognizing his presence, even in the dark.

“Who you talkin’ to, man?”, he asked. Will tried to keep no discernable emotion or feeling in his tone, trying to keep Pope off his anxious scent.

“No one… one of the grunts fucked up… just tryin’ to set them straight.”

Will hmm’d in acknowledgement; he knew it was a lie and he knew Pope wouldn’t be convinced that he believed him, but he knew saying anything more would probably drive more suspicion.

“I’ll ask again, Will… what do you want?”

Will moved closer to Pope, trying to keep his voice down when he spoke.

“You gotta stop rilin’ Benny up. I know you think it’s funny, but he’s gonna really fuck someone up and we don’t need that.”

“Fuck you, Will… what are you, his keeper? His fuckin’ nanny?”

“I’m the last thing keepin’ him from killin’ someone… If wasn’t there tonight, you think you would’a made it?”

“So, what you’re saying its you’re the one keeping a leash on him?”

Even in the dark, Will knew Pope was facing him. He could feel the breath on his face. He was close – too close.

“If you weren’t around, no one could stop him?”

“Jesus, man… You know he’s got a fuckin’ temper... he needs someone to hold him back.”

“Yeah, he does have a temper.”

“Then stop pushin’ him! Stop antagonizin’ him!”, Will pleaded. He heard Pope huff a laugh.

“You’re in his fucking way, Will.”

Will heard the smile in Pope’s voice, and his blood ran cold.

“The fuck is that supposed’ta mean?”

Pope got close to Will and grabbed the back of his neck and held his face to his.

“You’re in my fucking way.”

Will felt a sharp sting in his stomach, and then warmth. Wet, hot warmth on the skin of his abdomen. The sharp sting erupted into searing pain, and he sucked in a ragged breath as his head spun.

“Santi… wha- don’t….”

“Fuck you, Will.”, Pope huskily whispered, ripping the knife out of Will’s gut. “This is on you. You wouldn’t let him just...”

“San-Santi? Pope? … why?” Will gasped, stepping back and clutching his middle. He stared up at Pope, wide eyed and trembling as he fell against the wall behind him and slid down to the ground. A tear slipped down his face as he watched his friend – his murderer – turn and walk away, leaving him alone in the alley to slip away into the inky darkness.

--------<3---------

TAGLIST:

@theywhowriteandknowthings @harryleatherfit @harriedandharassed @neverwheremoonchild @rebel-held @beee-haw @nevergoingbacknowshine @idolatrybarbie @v4vayha @lalocitos @xdaddysprincessxx @deathsholywaterr @heareball @lyssramscal @wintrwinchestr @blackfemalenerd @toxicanonymity @southernbe @starkeydaviss @noxturnalpascal @gwendibleywrites @romanarose

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal tummy #frankie morales #triple frontier #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales fanfiction #chubby frankie rights !!!!! #chubby!frankiedark #dark!frankie morales #dark!frankie still chubby though #on the waterfront #OTWF #major character death #🥩

[zal-cryptid]

How does the outside world react to the disapperances of these people? Or does Krampus take those where it wouldn't be an issue?

Do you know how many people go missing every year? Crazy thing is that Fae kidnappings only make up a small portion of that. The Archivists of the Arcane Frontier (or simply the Arcane Frontiersmen) do try and document these otherworldly disappearances the best they can. They're...not so much a SCP Foundation equivalent as they're more like Parawatch, or the Magnus Institute, or Cafe and Diner.

#ask #misfits in toyland #tales of the otherfolk #worldbuilding #text post

[ahkmenraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa]

These three would be AMAZING friends. All three were pioneers, frontiersmen, LITERAL TRAILBLAZERS.

He would have an absolute field day with their journals, and they would share their stories.

JUST IMAGINE IT.

#natm #night at the museum #natm jedediah #natm fanart #lewis and clark #meriwether lewis #william clarke #natm Lewis and Clark #Please ignore how the fish stares into your soul

[callme-cursed]

You moved into your grandfather's cabin out in the deep frozen wilderness. Sure your closest neighbor was a good forty mile trek through snow and wolf territory, but you were never a social person. Besides you quite liked the snow.

Not right now of course, stuck in the middle of a blizzard. You had gone out to check your snares for rabbits and were on your way back when you heard the howl. It's something your used to out here, an occasional wolf might get desperate enough to take down a frontiersmen in the winter. But this isn't wolf territory. It's bear country, and they won't run from a meal.

The blizzards started coming in and now you can't see through the forest's shadows to see where it's coming from. You take the risk and raise your rifle in the direction you heard it last. You hold your breath and wait for it to enter your view.

That thing wasn't a bear.

You don't know what it is to tall to be a bear, to fast to be wolf. Part of you understands it as human the other only sees a threat. You can't fight it. So you run from it. Three steps is as far as you get before it slams into the ground next to you. Fear forcing you to drop onto your back staring up at this monsters eyes.

#space marine husbandry #cursed i hear you say this sounds a lot like you lifted the setting from The Long Dark #to which i reply How the hell did you find my steam #fun fact grizzly bears can be as tall as ten ffet when they stand on their hind legs #can you tell i mostly write thrillers :v #also yes its a space wolf wulfen yes that is cliche

[multifandumbmeg]

That Golden Glint of Glory

AKA, that Wild West Outer Banks AU I was talking about.

For the record I think this is a fascinating period in history, will not be glorifying and jumping over the egregious racism and many other issues of the day, but it was also an incredibly tolerant and multi-ethnic setting and I think people tend to forget that. Cowboys were Mexican. Many cowboys and frontiersmen were gay. Prostitution was normal. There were whole Black towns and black regiments of the military. Many people traded and integrated peacefully with indigenous groups. I think that deserves some recognition! So both will be present, because there's some really interesting dynamics at play in this era. I hope you like it!

@jjxkiaraxpopexcleoxjohnbxsarah @redhead1180 @eemolu

#outer banks #obx #jiara fanfic #jj maybank #outerbanks fic #wild west au #kiara carrera #john b routledge #sarah cameron #cleo obx #pope heyward #cleope #jarah #outlaws bandits and thieves #treasure hunters #trekking the american west

[jinxedwood]

List your nine most favourite books

Tagged by @arenee1999

Listen, there are books I think are good, and books I like, and sometimes that list doesn't overlap. This was a tough list to compile and I reserve the right to disavow it at a later date!

All Systems Red by Martha Wells. This is a novella and the first of the Murderbot series. It’s an action story about a sentient robot that has broken free of its programming and has developed free will. This is a recent read and I loved every moment of it and it was so awesome to find a series and go ’wait…there are four more books already published? Its my Birthday!’

A Player of Games by Iain M Banks.This was the first of the Contact books I read, and while there are more sophisticated books from this series, this book deftly introduces the Culture  and its universe and ethics while still giving you a gut punch to the stomach. It also gives you a surprisingly modern take on gender and identity considering it was written over thirty years ago. 

Orlando, by Virginia Woolf. A story about a nobleman born in England during the reign of Elizabeth I, who  wakes up a woman one morning and then goes on to live for another 300 hundred years - although others are too polite to mention this. I fell in love with this book as a teenager and that hasn’t changed. 

Witches Abroad, by Terry Pratchett. This is the 12th Discworld book and the 3rd of the Witches books, but it also happened to be my first introduction to Granny Weatherwax and I will love her always and forever. 

The Robber Bride, by Margaret Atwood. Listen, I know the Handmaid’s Tale is awesome, but she has written a whole ton of other books in a ton of different genres that are also awesome. This book is about friendship and betrayal (and that one crazy fucker who meandered around your friendship circle when you were in your twenties and left carnage in their wake)

The Assassin's Apprentice (First of the Farseer Trilogy) by Robin Hobb  Epic Quest Fantasy, except the primary character is not who you’d think he’d be. Loved this series from the beginning to the end.

The Rivers of London, By Ben Aaronovitch. First of an Urban Fantasy series in which Peter Grant is a beat cop with the London Met, who has an encounter with the supernatural and suddenly gets seconded to the in ‘The Folly’, the officially unofficial branch of the London police that deals with the freaky side of things. Also, he’s now a Sorcerer's apprentice.

This is such a beautifully crafted world and the characters are perfectly rendered. If you haven’t read this series, you’re missing out. 

And two old faves that probably wouldn’t pass the smell test nowadays.

The Many Coloured Land (form the Saga of the Exiles Series), by Julian May.

 Listen, the 21st century is a rough place for a lot of humans. First the Aliens came, and then all those super powered humans came out of the woodwork and your average Joe just wanted to go back to a simpler world - so that handy time gate back to the Pliocene Era will come in dead handy, am I right? A new virgin world that's just a younger version of the present, and it will be all theirs and only theirs.

Except for the Fae, who already live there and are in charge, and all of you would-be frontiersmen are now their serfs and slaves. Good times.

I don't know what this writer was smoking when she dreamed up this series but it must have been some serious shit (and I still love these crazy books) 

The Chrysalids, by John Wyndham. You know this writer, you really do. This is the Guy who wrote Day of the Triffids and the Midwich Cuckoos. Like most British Sci Fi writers from this era, he leans more into the eerie and creepy rather than epic and operatic. I came across this book in my School Library (back in the OLDEN TIMES) It’s a post apocalyptic future that we assume happens after a nuclear winter.

This was written in the 1950s but gives a good stab at describing what this kind of world would look like, warts and all and it's one of those stories that kind of stuck with me through the years so I thought it might deserve a spot on this list. 

And because it's Wyndham, there are telepaths.  

Tagging in a non compulsory sort of way: @cbk1000, @hellsbellschime, @yamimana-ramblings, @pers-books, @lilbreck @randomkiwibirds @galvanizedfriend @garglyswoof @manicpixiesdreamdragon

#books #memes