#I love this three eyed monstrosity

[disconnected-dragon]

Everyone, I am proud to report that happy meat farms arg fandom finally got our sexy man!

[literary-motif]

OK, I will wait for your original work so you can take my money and I will be your #1 fan. I want to show my appreciation to a cute, silly, and weird nerd like you. ദ്ദി(ᵔᗜᵔ)

BTW, can you please write about my sketch of Kayson? Thank you! https://ibb.co/ZN3344m

A reply to this post, if you're curious.

Strange Dreams

Kayson x Reader

You blinked your eyes open tiredly, confused that you were awake at all before you heard the lock of the front door turn. Raising your head from the soft pillows of the couch, you sat up enough to peek over the backrest and find Kayson trying to shut the door quietly. 

Just as he had eased it back into the lock without it making a sound — turning the key to lock the door for the night quietly — he leaned against it to take off his shoes. The bag he took with him to work swung against the rack of your umbrellas in his haste, and knocked it over with a loud clunk. 

“No, fuck,” he cursed, groaning in exasperation before remembering his initial intention of trying to keep quiet.

“I’m already awake,” you called out sleepily, blinking at him bleary-eyed as his head whirled around. “‘s waiting for you,” you mumbled, resting your chin on the cushions and stifling a yawn. 

You had been working on your thesis for the better part of the day, and it left you utterly exhausted. Questions you still needed to address floated through your head, the black letters of the text on your computer screen seemed etched into your vision whenever you closed your eyes. The sentences you had mulled over for ages echoed in your mind, twisting nearly into unrecognizable monstrosities of grammar and utter senselessness.

You needed to sleep. If only your mind would shut up.

Kayson slipped off his shoes, giving you a warm smile as he moved towards the couch. “I told you not to do that,” he whispered, bending down to place a kiss against your forehead. “Don’t stay up for me. Sometimes the customers justwon’t go and I’m stuck staring at them for half an hour before I can close up. It’s already well past midnight, Prefect.” 

He let his bag fall against the side of the couch before sitting next to you. Instinctively, you scooted closer. Kayson wrapped an arm around you, gently pulling you into his side. 

“You should really kick them out,” you said, leaning your head against his shoulder. Keeping your eyes open was a losing battle, but you tried your best. 

Kayson chuckled, planting a kiss against the top of your head. “It’s against company policy,” he said, nuzzling his cheek against your hair and taking a deep breath of your scent. Having you in his arms never failed to relax him, and feeling you sink against him as you slowly slipped into sleep brought a tired smile to his face.

“Miss you when you’re not here,” you mumbled, sighing deeply as you shifted a little to get more comfortable and promptly fell asleep against him. 

Your words made his heart swell with love, and Kayson could not help breaking out into a wide smile. You were adorable. “I love you, too,” he whispered, squeezing you tighter as he allowed his eyes to close. He did not even care to remove his black bowtie, blissfully falling into the land of sleep with you tucked into his side.

Both of you would regret spending the night on the couch as you felt your aching muscles in the morning. Kayson would offer to give you a massage to soothe the soreness of your neck, and you would readily accept, telling him all about the crazy stuff you had dreamed about last night. 

It was strange. You had not even researched Cerberus, but as you told Kayson about the image of his face on the three-headed dog, you realized that it was the perfect creature to offer you a link to the mythics of the past. 

How beautifully practical that you found the answers to problems in your thesis while sleeping next to Kayson.

[babytarttdoodoo]

for the mini fic prompt, could you do hurt/comfort where jamie hyperventilates and has a panic attack in mom city? and with keeley and roy to help him through it

Y’all really looked at the angst and h/c of the last one and went ‘yup’, huh? I love it.

Went back and forth on when in Mom City to place this but there is a good chunk of unaccounted for time in the episode where we know Jamie, Roy and Keeley were all together.

Thank you for the prompt and I hope you enjoy.

(Prompt Fill Masterpost)

—

They ended up in the hotel bar. It was hardly the most glamorous spot in the city and Jamie felt a bit like he should be doing more to show Roy and Keeley around his hometown.

The truth was, though, that he was still just bone-deep tired. He hadn’t missed the way Roy had eyed him assessingly before telling Keeley that Jamie wasn’t allowed cocktails and making a fuss about the team curfew.

Jamie was grateful for it. Not that he would ever admit it out loud.

So all three of them had retraced their steps back to the Hacienda and found a quiet corner that kept them mostly hidden from the view of other guests enjoying a nightcap. Roy had looked entirely too pleased with himself when he returned from the bar with a beer, something pink and foamy for Keeley, and a neon-coloured, sugary monstrosity of a mocktail that he set down in front of Jamie.

The umbrella in it was a nice touch.

It drew out a bout of good natured teasing that it was easy to laugh at, to fall into a familiar rhythm with, but Jamie quickly resorted to quietly sipping his glorified fruit juice while Roy and Keeley (mostly Keeley) carried on the conversation around him.

Talking seemed like so much effort, right then.

Don’t get him wrong, seeing his mum had helped loads. It always did. She never judged him for anything and always understood what he was trying to say, regardless of whatever mixed metaphors he came up with to describe the mess in his head.

Just spending a bit of time with her had settled something in his chest that felt like it had rattled loose weeks ago.

But that feeling of dread that had dogged so many of his waking hours was still pulling at the back of his mind. It was with a sort of detached fascination that Jamie noticed his fingers shaking when he reached for his glass.

“Jamie?”

“Hmm?” He startled and looked up from the table to see Roy and Keeley staring right at him, twin expressions of pinched concern on their faces. Like a weird parody of those posters in his room. “Oh, er, sorry, Keels. Miles away.”

“You should get to bed.” Roy stated, frowning but not (Jamie thought) in an angry way. “We still need you tomorrow.”

Right.

“The crowd’s gonna hate you. And the person who’s gonna be booing the loudest in the crowd is your dad.”

Jamie stood abruptly, barely noticing the screech his chair made against the floor past the white noise suddenly rushing in his ears. He did notice the way concern shifted straight to fucking alarm across the table and stumbled over an apology.

“Sorry! Sorry, I’ll just go. Upstairs.” He swallowed and it made his stomach churn. Could you sweat on the inside of your mouth? It definitely felt like it. “Need me rest, don’t I?”

Roy was already getting up too. “Fuck, Jamie, I didn’t mean…”

“Stay for a bit? We’ll walk you up.” Keeley chimed in, looking at Jamie with big, liquid eyes and shit, he couldn’t handle any more of this.

He said something, he thought, but didn’t know or care if it made sense. He just shook his head and backed away quickly, keenly aware of the eyes on him as he made a beeline for the lobby.

Jamie shouldered open the door to the stairwell without making a conscious decision to take the stairs. It probably wasn’t a good idea - the shaking in his fingers had apparently spread and it felt like pins and needles were running up his legs. Everything about how he was feeling made the plushly carpeted steps seem horribly intimidating.

In the absence of a better option, he sank down to sit on them instead, clutching onto the wall and only barely aware of the short, sharp breaths he was pulling in. His chest felt like he’d been doing Roy’s sadistic suicide runs all day.

Funny, his vision swam when he did those too.

He closed his eyes against the nausea that swamped him as if a tide of awful was rushing over his head and just tried to breathe, to focus on the sound and rhythm of air sucked into his lungs instead of anything else.

The feeling of hands on him jolted through his body like a shockwave.

“No!” He flailed his arms in an effort to get away and pressed back against the wall, looking around wildly.

“Shit, shit, sorry love.” For a terrifying second, Jamie didn’t even recognise Keeley, too confused by her sudden appearance. She was perched on the stairs too, hands snatched back against her chest to keep from reaching out again. “It’s just us. You’re okay.”

“Oi, Tartt.” Oh, Roy was there too, crouching down to his level and fixing him with a remarkably steady look. Right now, that seemed like some sort of superpower. Roy Fucking Kent, eh?

“Look at me, alright? Deep breath in.” He gestured to his own expanding ribcage and Jamie found himself following along. Copying his coach like it was the most natural thing in the world. He blew air out through pursed lips and drew it back in again. And again. And again. His eyes stayed fixed on Roy’s face, latched on to that cool, collected calm.

Slowly, the rest of the world started to filter back in and Jamie had the presence of mind to realise how ridiculous this all was. He was cowering in a corner like a scared kid while the two people he’d idolised for at least a fucking decade coddled him. His face felt wet.

He scrubbed his hands roughly over his eyes and cheeks, shifting into a more comfortable seating position and feeling his ears and neck burn with shame.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.” Roy agreed, still watching him carefully. “Alright?”

Jamie nodded glumly then startled when Roy all but collapsed to sit on the floor below him. The calm of a moment ago had disappeared in the blink of an eye.

“Jesus Christ, don’t fucking do that again.” He practically snarled the words but didn’t actually look angry. He looked… something else. “Scared the shit out of me.”

Oh.

“Oh. Sorry.” Jamie offered weakly, baffled when Roy just shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Babe.” Keeley’s voice was quiet, tentative in a way he’d never really heard from her before. He turned to see that her eyes still looked huge, set in a paler than normal face. But she smiled at him. “Can I touch you now? Is that alright?”

That sounded fucking wonderful so Jamie nodded and went easily into her arms. She was tiny but he curled up to tuck his face against her shoulder, shivering when her fingers smoothed back his hair.

“That’s it, darling. We’ve got you. You’re gonna be okay.” She went on murmuring soft, nice little things to him as the shaking slowly left Jamie’s frame and he felt like his legs might support him again.

Eventually, he cleared his throat and sat back up straight. His eyes darted between them, seeing clearly now that they both looked properly terrible.

“... don’t suppose there’s any chance we can just forget that happened?” he tried hopefully. It did at least get a snort of laughter from Roy.

“Not a fucking hope in hell, you little prick.” He stood slowly, bracing a hand on the wall, and grimaced. “Ears.”

“What?” Jamie furrowed his brow in confusion when Keeley immediately slapped her hands over her ears. It quickly curdled into guilt when Roy reached down and viciously adjusted his knee with the worst cracking, squelching sound Jamie had ever heard. “Fucking hell, old man. What the fuck did you get on the floor for?”

Roy didn’t dignify that with an answer, just held out his hands to Jamie.

“C’mon, up. We’re not staying here all night.”

Jamie almost questioned what he meant by ‘we’, but just accepted the help instead and used Roy’s strong grip to pull himself back to standing.

Keeley followed his lead unaided and wrapped herself around Jamie’s arm, clearly intent on holding him for the foreseeable future. Or maybe she just thought he needed the extra support. That was valid.

Stairs were obviously not an option now, not with Roy wincing on every other step taken to show them back out into the lobby. Nevertheless, he hovered like a bodyguard, shielding the view of them both as much as he could with his own body until they reached the lift.

Keeley disentangled a hand to stab at the call button and they all herded into the small space like some bizarre conga line.

Jamie couldn’t even find it in himself to protest. Not when Keeley was soft and warm against his side, the smell of her perfume so achingly familiar. Not when Roy put a guiding hand to the small of his back and it drifted up to grip his shoulder once they were inside.

He found his voice, though, when Roy pressed the button for the eighth floor.

“I’m on six.” His suitcase was still sitting open on the bed, he thought, unpacked and lonely.

“My room’s bigger.” Roy told him gruffly, like that was any kind of answer, and made absolutely no move to change their destination.

Confused, Jamie let himself be led along to the room that Roy was apparently staying in and shuffled across the threshold. It actually was a bit nicer than his - that hardly seemed fair.

Keeley gently tugged him over the bed and sat him down. She smoothed back his hair again and it felt so nice.

“Do you need anything? I’m going to grab some of my stuff. I can go to your room too.”

Jamie scrunched up his face. It felt like he’d missed a whole conversation at some point. 

“You’re sleeping in here.” Roy told him, tone brooking no argument and Jamie turned to him in surprise. “So we can make sure you do actually fucking sleep.”

Sure enough, Roy was turning down the bedsheets and moving his own things around. Making room.

“Oh.” Jamie considered that. The thought of spending the night alone with Roy Kent in a hotel room brought up a lot of very complicated feelings. Except, it sounded like Keeley was planning to stick around as well, didn’t it? And the idea of staying like this for the rest of the night, bracketed between them with nice words and soft touches, was more comforting than he could bear.

“Alright then.”

[madstronaut]

tis christmas in july aka the season for feasting year-round 

much like the 3-in-1 monstrosity of shampoo/condish/bodywash that the COD men probably use (not gaz, though he would n e v e r) I am tossing in my ramblimmentaries three of cin’s lovely fics together here 🥰

aaanyway not even ashamed to say I’ve been re-reading their holiday keegan fic SEVERAL TIMES a month since I first saw it last december cos it’s so cute and fluffy

ok I need to get this out of the way laughing my ass off rn because autocorrect changed cumikering to cucumber several times throughout here and i was howling when I went to edit this and I was like why are there cucumbers everywhere??? LMAO

Reading: Neighbour Keegan Russ x reader by @cumikering

ah meet cute at the laundry room; I love it alr (as you can see i am easily pleased/amused/moved)

also it’s already on sight with reader’s cuz, i have unfortunately met ppl like this IRL (haven’t we all) and well talk about telling on themselves about how unhappy they are :/

“Well, if you need company…” he said, trying to not sound too hopeful. I’d love to spend some time with you. You turned to him, brow raised. “Wait, you mean, you want to come with? Be my plus one?” “That wasn’t- well, yeah. I can do that.” He shrugged. “If you want.” This wasn’t the direction he was heading for. He was going to offer to spend Christmas together, maybe exchange gifts, but he surely wasn’t going to take that back. Anything for a chance with you.

AAAA OBSESSED WITH HOW CUTE AND AWKWARD THIS WHOLE EXCHANGE IS

He always enjoyed seeing your face brighten like that, despite never getting the chance to see it enough…But between deployments, he was lucky to even catch a glimpse of you once a week, leaving any possible advances towards you simply a fantasy to him. He was out of practice, but was he that out of practice that he came on too strong and scared you? He certainly didn’t mean to make it suggestive. This was going to end before it even started. He grimaced to himself.

we love some good ole mutual pining🥺🥰🥺🥰🥺🥰

That time you saw Keegan on a run shirtless out your window you had to sit down.

HAHAHAHAHAHHAHA crying laughing at this…also reminded me of a time I hung out with a friend in LA who went to pick up a friend after he ran a marathon and drop him off before we went to dinner - didn’t realize the runner was an old acquaintance I hadn’t seen in a while since he was a senior when I was a freshman in college but I fucking remembered him alright when he came running up ripped af, shirtless, sweaty, saw me and went “MADSTRONAAUUTTTT OMG” and picked me up and spun me while in his giant hulking sweaty arms and I briefly bluescreened…anyway cough sorry back to keegan what was I saying, yes shirtless sweaty keegan yes yes 

He didn’t speak much (you wished he did though because his voice was divine)

my fellow voicekink brian bloom fans where you at

ah wooing by fake dating, is there a better trope (tbh the ones I’ve read are hit or miss but this one is 10/10)

Keegan sat on his bed as you went through his wardrobe. How cheesy would it be if he were to pull out his guitar and serenade you? He, too, was told the ladies liked men who played the guitar. Why do you think he picked it up in high school?

*thousand eyed stare thinking of how many times I've heard wonderwall as a millenial*

He’d made it his mission to make sure taking him to your family was worth your while.

ah yes a true soldier through and throughhhhh~

You were a steady stream of glee that didn’t drain him and he couldn’t get enough.

AAWWWWWWW fucking loved this line!!!!!!!

also the cousin’s name as Bella now has me picturing her as twilight kristen stewart

It only made it hard to dilute your hopefulness that this meant the slightest bit more than nothing.

“dilute your hopefulness” GAAHHH LOVE THIS PHRASE CIN MWAH MWAH

now how to put this lightly but everything about bella just filled me with pure rage lol first off I WOULD ALSO KILL FOR A DYSON AIR WRAP GIFTED TO ME (can I buy one? yes. can I justify buying one? hell no) and I hate to use this term but textbook definition of a ‘pick-me girl’ right here but seeing casual cruelty like this would make me hear those kill bill sirens and have me swabbing some vaseline on my face and taking my earrings off and spitting some razorblades out my mouth and- cough anyway that’s from my younger fanciful days, I don’t carry razorblades in my mouth this isn’t late 90s/early 2000s new york ha cough anyway moving on smh throwing my hands at bella up in air

but I loved the contrast with keegan and let me just say everything about bella’s ‘gift’ goes against the pure nature of giftgiving and I am thrilled that she left the card there but got to take Keegan home 🥰

this whole fic reminded me of a lovely quote I read on a tear-off daily calendar lol

“The wise one knows. The giver of the gift IS the gift. And the gift is just the giver’s heart in the shape of something to make you smile.  The gift decays. The giver stays. And so the real gift remains.”

I will make an exception for celebrating Christmas in July for any of cin's holiday fics 🥰🥰🥰

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

aaaaand also reading: by Ghost x plus-sized reader by cinny

omfg fucking tearing up my pillows to shreds at how much I love this lil fic!!!

You scoffed, looking past him at the other ladies in the room. “Are you serious? There are plenty who weigh far less.” His brow rose. “Are you calling me weak?”

fucking love reading about a suave smooth-ass ghost

His eyes softened a touch. “May I? Please?”

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 WHO CAN RESIST PUPPY EYED GHOST??? TELL ME WHO

 Across the pub, the table of three men grinned at the massive stranger. The one with the mohawk was very much entertained as he gave him thumbs up.

yes yes we love wingman!141

You laughed, your breath warm against his ear. “Are you going to set me down or am I having my drink on your back?” “Don’t give me ideas.” He chuckled as he lowered you to your feet.

HOW CUTE IS SIMON CARRYING READER TO THE BAR? AAAAAAA

“Okay. Well, thanks for he drink. You could get back to your mates if you want.” “I’m Simon,” he mustered instead.

“he mustered” AAAH I LOVE BIG NERVOUS MEN STUMBLING OVER THEIR WORDS

When he turned to them, they immediately busied themselves with their drinks, averting their gazes.

LMAO

So that was why you were alone. You were waiting for someone. Disappointment anchored at the bottom of his chest. “Right. Okay.” You smiled. “Thanks for the drink, Simon. I’ll see you around, yeah?” He grunted and you headed to the end of the bar. He stood umoving for another second before retreating to his table like a kicked puppy.

ummm omg I literally keeled over and slumped out of my chair in sympathy for simon for a good minute before I could read on OMG CIN HOW COULD YOU (lmao jk I loved this sm)

You flagged down some other blond man who walked over to you with a smile.

LMAO yes yes simon you are clearly superior

“I know she’s with someone, but I can tell she likes you more,” Price said, and Simon finally tore his gaze away from you. “Ye should fight ‘im, L.T. He dinnae stand a fuckin’ chance.” “You can knock him out with a slap,” Gaz quipped.

fucking love this, cin has 141 characterisation down to a T with each of their responses!!!! 

also men of the world if you can please take notes on stepping up from 141 here, please start doing so yesterday tyvm

so busy mopping up my heart from melting at how adorable this meet-cute is and I also got halal two days in a row from the halal guys cart by work thanks to reading about the kebabs in this fic

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

and finally reading: Ghost x asmr artist reader by cinny

"Simon had a pepper problem and a pasta dilemma"

🥺🥺🥺🥺 I am dying at the cuteness here alr🥺🥺🥺🥺

You turned to him. He noticed the little startle before you shoved your phone back in your pocket.

men who are self-aware of their size and presence and the effect it has on ppl around them and act accordingly, I love you

Your quiet cooking videos were one of the only things left that offered him calmness, especially on those nights away on missions, giving him tingles in all the right places, and shamefully, the wrong ones too sometimes.

sir, sir, there is no room for shame in love~

“Ah- I’m sorry,“ he managed, flustered by your sudden exit. “I didn’t want to be presumptuous, but you make those videos, don’t you? I recognised your voice.” You grinned, turning to him. “I just wanted to thank you,” he said. “Your videos comfort me a lot.” “I’m happy to hear. Thank you for watching.” Simon wanted to tug his beanie over his face because as you walked away, he was unmoving with a racing heart and a blush over his pale cheeks.

omfg WANTED TO TUG HIS BEANIE DOWN??? I AM IN LOVE I LOVE STRONG YET VULNERABLE GIANT MEN SM (this is a fluff fic so I am keeping with the fluffy vibes nd restraining my horny ass from choking out some absolutely thirsty comments here)

Despite the uncomfortable circumstances, your quiet yet crisp voice always sent him into a restful slumber.

yes shoutout to my favorite YT vids and comfort fics for putting me to sleep without fail

The chance encounter only fuelled his attraction. Knowing the kind smile behind the sweetest voice felt like an intimate secret, one you shared with him and only him - not with the rest of your few thousand subscribers.

i love how sweet simon is here with his lil parasocial crush and OMG WHEN READER APPROACHES HIM FIRST IN THE PASTA AISLE I also blushed IRL GOD I LOve FLUFF FICS SM

“Someone sent in a recipe for a video, and it’s absolutely delicious. I’ve been making it at least once a month ever since.”

SIMON’S COMFORT YOUTUBER’S COMFORT RECIPE IS SIMON'S??? WHAT IS THIS GLORIOUS OUROBOROS OF A COINKYDINK

He combed his hair back with his fingers, hoping his hat hair wasn’t terrible. He caught the double take you did at his tattooed arm.

🥰hehehe i love these little tidbits and morsels of vulnerability (hmm good band name, writing that down)

The rich scent of caramelised meat drifting in the room wrapped around him like a warm blanket.

Between sips of tea, you enjoyed your own halves of the chocolate wordlessly, the music melting into the background.

The savoury aroma glided past the thin gaps of the oven, swirling and dancing between you and him.

mmmmmm this has to be one of the coziest fics ive ever read

“I was an apprentice butcher before I enlisted.” He pressed down on the ricer with ease.

so much said in two sentences!!! ugh mwah mwah so many chef’s kisses for your writing style cinny

also loved how both are very self-aware and how reader picks up on simon talking about his mom in past tense and the whole fic emerging to fit around this bit of simon’s story is so wonderful to me… He waited until you took a bite before taking his own, and his breath caught. His brows furrowed as lump formed in his throat. Had the ground cracked and plunged him into a glitched universe? He was once more in Manchester, 10 years younger, finally home after a long day at the butcher, his mum and brother waiting at the table with the piping hot dish in the middle of it.

literally picturing that critic eating ratatouille flashback end scene from the eponymous movie 😂🥰

The last thing he wanted to do in front of you was shed a tear, but there he was, some hulking stranger sobbing on your shoulder as nostalgia held him in a death grip. It was humiliating to be seen like this – he didn’t remember the last time he cried from feelings, yet the tears wouldn’t cease despite his efforts. But you held him close, and his thick arms wrapped around you. He told himself if he pulled you close enough, it would hurt less.

i love how simon’s comfort streamer becomes an IRL comfort place for him to safely break down 🥹🥹 did I cry from reading this? IDK MAYBE WHO KNOWS? (looks at the ruined kleenex piled in my wastebin)

I hope all readers know and have a person and place like this (and may we host such places and become such people as well) 💛✨🌿

and of course I will pause my rambles here with a big-ass hug 🫂 and thank you to cinny for being a wonderful comfort fic writer for meeee 🫶🫶🫶😘👌😘👌😘👌

[the-passenger-if]

We get to see Roach tease the MC about their romance insterests; how would Roach tease the ROs about being interested in or having a crush Newman? Roach's sense of humor is great and them embarrassing everyone around them is top tier friendship trolling.

Happy May!

And happy October to you, anon n_n”

I imagine Roach would tease Fiama while they're stuck in the cabin, maybe while Newman is cleaning themselves in the bathroom:

“Good for you,” Roach says, and Fiama looks at them.

“Are you talking to me?” She holds Bruno closer to her.

Roach chuckles. “No need to use the kid as a shield. You’re obviously taken.” They throw a pointed look at the bathroom, before looking at her again, “In more ways than one.” When Fiama's only answer is staring back at them, Roach stands up and stretches themself. “Hey, it's fine. To be honest, you duped me; I thought you would get up and leave, yet here you are.”

“And I should care about what you think because…?”

Roach grins. “Oh no, you shouldn’t.” They look like they want to add something else, but their amused expression turns softer little by little. “You’ll take care of them, won’t you?”

“I’m planning to,” Fiama replies, her chin high, and Roach realizes she doesn’t appreciate the sudden probing. It’s fine; they wouldn’t either.

“Good. Good for you,” they repeat. “Good for them.” And they mean it.

●○●○●○●○●

They would tease Jonny in the cabin too because Roach has no chill:

“How does it feel to be the latest obsession of a monstrosity from space?”

Jonny doesn’t look at them, but his eyes jump to the tiny bathroom before shooting elsewhere.

Roach sighs. Thinks about resting their head against his shoulder for half a second before just going for it. Jonny doesn’t shake them off, but he tenses up—more than he usually does, for a longer time than he usually does. “Jonny-boy…” It’s a plea but they don’t care.

“You two are laughing at me.” Not an accusation, just facts being stated, which is worse somehow.

Roach rests their forehead against his shoulder. “We so aren’t.” They nudge Jonny until their friend sighs. When they look up, he is watching them with a blank expression. “Maybe you’re just that enchanting?” Jonny clicks his tongue, and Roach hugs him. “They are into you, dumbass. They really are.” He says nothing; he just stares wide-eyed, so ready to believe them, and also so afraid. “Don’t chicken out now.”

“I… no, I won’t.” Jonny swallows down and makes to stand up so Roach lets go of him.

When both of them are on their feet, Roach gives his skinny ass a friendly slap. The unimpressed look Jonny throws them has them holding up their hands. “For good luck. Go get them, stud.”

●○●○●○●○●

Lastly, they would tease Horizon before shit hit the fan in CH7. They would invite themselves into the Domini’s cabin one evening receiving a vexed look for their trouble:

“So,” Roach begins, paying no mind to Horizon. “Domini, you are a smart cookie. Do you like crosswords?” When they blink in confusion, Roach holds up the magazine they brought along. “Been squeezing my brain for over ten minutes and I can’t find the right word.” They lie the magazine on the table, clear their throat. “Group of whales. And it’s a three letter word.”

Horizon thinks about it for a moment before saying, “A pod.”

Roach grins as they jot down the answer. “Hah, I knew asking you was a good idea. Alright, another one, a container for holding and pouring liquids that usually has a lip or spout and a handle.”

This time the reply is immediate. “Pitcher.” Horizon approaches the table as Roach counts the squares and lets out an impressed whistle. “You’re a walking thesaurus, Domini.”

“Well, I—”

“Third one: someone who is in love slash sexually aroused by their own deity.” They look up at Horizon forming a perfect o with their mouth. The shocked look on the Domini’s face almost makes Roach crack up then and there. “Well well well, this crossword is spicy.”

After that, Horizon isn’t in the mood for games anymore; they are quick to usher Roach out and close the door behind them. Roach is giggling to themself when Horizon reappears.

“And the word is theophile,” the Domini hurls at them.

Roach opens their mouth, reply at the ready, but Horizon shuts the door in their face. Of course, that doesn’t deter them in the slightest. “And you would know everything about that, wouldn’t you?”

[andauril]

Chapter Title: House of Slaughter Chapter Summary: The group takes in Arabella. The House of Healing offers no reprieve.

Pairing: Astarion x Female Dark Urge Chapter Specific Content Warnings: Intrusive thoughts and fantasies about harming and killing a child.

Summary: When Astarion called Silaestra a "kindred spirit", the first time they met, he could never have known how right he ended up being.

Excerpt:

He still looked a touch paler than usual, but the wild, haunted look had faded from his eyes. “Are you alright?” His laugh was a little high-pitched, and nervous. “Oh, splendid, darling. What’s not to like? Lots of blood, I got to watch you kill half a dozen of unfortunate fools. I couldn’t be doing better, truly.” His eyes flicked over to the slowly drying pool of blood around the dying - or dead - man on the table. But it wasn’t just the sight of the blood that had put him on edge. He was eying the rotting corpse of the surgeon with obvious distaste - not, not merely distaste. Horror. “This entire place is disturbing”, she said. “I need some fresh air. Come with me?” “Oh, why not? This place is starting to bore me anyway …” His tone was nonchalant, but the tightness of his shoulder’s eased ever so slightly. He was otherwise quiet as he followed her out of the room, across the entrance and out of the main gate. The darkness outside was unchanging and unchanged, pressing in on her temples like the vice grip of icy fingers. But at least, the air no longer reeked of blood and suffering. She slowly breathed out. Allowed herself to relax. “I think I’ve been here … before …”, she said. It was an invitation to talk, if he wanted to. “You’re beginning to remember?” She shook her head. “It’s a feeling more than a memory. This place feels … sickeningly familiar.” “I do envy you sometimes, you know? There are times where I’d gladly kill for the chance to forget.” His voice was both bitter and wistful. “I can understand that. Sometimes I’m not sure if I want to remember my past.” What kind of person must she have been, if the thought of murder aroused her still, even now that she didn’t remember anything? She was monstrous even with no memory of her past … There was something like comfort in knowing the full extent of that monstrosity. Ignorance is bliss. “That ‘surgeon’”, Astarion spat the word out like a slur. “He reminds me of Cazador. The bastard enjoyed the power he had over us. He loved to taunt me over my ‘weakness’, all while acting like he was doing me a favour.” “He’s wrong. You’re not weak - you never were weak.” He wasn’t like her. She doubted whatever was wrong with her could ever be mended, but Astarion … He was strong. She wished she had the words to express how proud she was, simply knowing that he’d endured for this long, long enough for her to meet him. Astarion scoffed. “Well, he was certainly stronger than me. All he had to do get us to comply with whatever sick torture he had in mind was tell us to be still, like obedient little lambs.” He punctuated each of the last three words, voice still bitter, and angry. “’Us’”, she echoed. “There were more than just you?”

[irelandking]

biker au fic recs

bucky barnes x reader

❤️ = fluff 😔 = angst 🔥 = smut

multiparts:

howlin' for you - @invisibleanonymousmonsters

When Y/N gets an unreal deal on her first home, she wonders why her neighbor scared away all the other buyers. Despite being cautious, she wonders why the town has given Bucky Barnes a bad name. ❤️🔥

business as usual - @world-of-aus

Part 2 & 3: More Than Business, More Than Business II biker x baker reader fluff, more parts coming ❤️

not my babe - @avecra

Part 2: you’ll never be alone After a nasty break up to a nearly two year relationship, you find yourself dragged to a bar by your best friend, though a familiar blue-eyed biker makes the best of your crappy situation. ❤️😔

biker masterlist - @angrythingstarlight

interconnected one shots ❤️🔥

delicate edges - @wkemeup

Your family’s beloved flower shop was not the only thing you inherited when your parents passed. Trapped under a mountain of debt to the Hydra club, you bear the cost of your father’s desperate bargain. It’s only in moments when the charming Bucky Barnes walks into your shop that you can forget the cruelty of the biker clubs of this town. But a war is brewing. The border is crumbling. You’re trapped in the middle. And Bucky will stop at nothing to keep you safe. ❤️🔥😔

one shots:

bumblebees and honeybees - @venusstorm

The time in which you gifted Bucky Barnes an adorable little keychain for his motorcycle. ❤️

the bogeyman and other monstrosities - @pellucid-constellations

As the local biker club president, Bucky Barnes had a reputation for being tougher than nails and feared by many—he’d never be caught dead at a halloween street fair. Too bad his best girl always got what she wanted ❤️

i saw you and i knew - @sinner-as-saint

You met Bucky unexpectedly at an unfamiliar bar one night - one of your last nights of freedom before your parents marry you off to some rich, young man. Bucky happened to be so different from all the men you had dated or you were used to seeing that it was a little bit of a surprise how reckless and open he was. You had been subconsciously looking for a way out of the situation you were in for days, so when Bucky makes you a rather unusual proposal; you accept immediately. And it ends up being one of the best things you ever agreed to. ❤️🔥

naughty & nice - @rookthorne

Presents took on many shapes and forms, this one, however, was likely to be your favourite. ❤️🔥

hot and cold - @bucksfucks

you & bucky had never gotten along, but when your ex-boyfriend ransom turns up at the same bar you’re at, bucky goes to every length to protect you 🔥❤️

drunk, dumped, and angry - @green-eyeddragonfanfiction

 After a nasty breakup, you go out drinking. After an absolute creep hits on you, you’re saved from a concussion by a mysterious, kind man, who reveals himself to be Bucky Barnes. The bar you’re in is a bit suspect, but you never expected him to be head of a biker gang. ❤️🔥

deny me - @drewbarymore

In which you feel like Bucky’s ashamed of you ❤️

best friends? nah. - @wicked-mind

Classic best friends don’t realize feelings for each other until someone points it out ❤️🔥

coffee. emergency. thighs - @angrythingstarlight

You told Bucky that the only time he's allowed to wake you up is under three conditions: He has coffee. It's an emergency. Or his head is between your thighs. And today, he really, really wants to wake you up. 🔥

thin ice - @angrythingstarlight

bucky has a few rules. the most important one is that you always have to tell your biker you love him before you leave the house. because 'i love you bucky' are his four favourite words ❤️🔥

an angel's confession - @rookthorne

Being the Angel on Bucky’s shoulder meant you were the voice of calm, of reason – it did not mean the most sinful chants would fall from your lips and render both of you speechless. Until the day that it did. 🔥

[thefifthsister-notactive]

Ridiculous Things

Post Series

"Are you trying to kill me?" He asks, incredulous at the concoctions in her hand.

"If you don't want yours I can just take it..."

"No, no, no," Castle practically lunges at his wife from the seat on the bench he was saving for the two of them.

Kate smirks at him, knew he'd love this. It was his kind of monstrosity.

She sits next to him, eyeing up the ice cream in her hand after he's taken his. He looks like an excited kid, taking it all in and then he looks to her.

"Is this coffee?"

"I promised you coffee and ice cream," she grins. "Lanie told me about this place. I thought you'd like it."

"So, we just..."

"On the count of three, we'll both squirt the coffee in and hope for the best."

"I'm too excited for this to make a dirty joke about that," Castle chuckles and she knows he's thrilled with the surprise.

They count and she watches him dive in, is a little modest herself with her eating. The coffee ice cream is delicious, a welcome break from the heat of the day and the way he throws his arm around her and pulls her close. Watches ice cream smeared across his face, looks just like Jake does when he eats ice cream. All wide eyed and joyful.

"Think you can manage all that?" She teases.

"I'll certainly try," he assures her. "Mostly just happy to have you... and this to myself."

Ridiculous things make him happy, always have, and she's happy she could do a ridiculous thing for him on a rare day to themselves.

[angelasscribbles]

Victim of Love Chapter 3: Old Friends and New

Series: Victim of Love

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Drake x Riley

Word Count: 1,146

Rating: MA

Warnings for this chapter: drinking

Song Inspiration for series: Victim of Love by The Eagles

I heard about you and that man There's just one thing I don't understand

My other stuff: Master List.

Drake rejoined the party in progress, fingering the scrap of paper in his hand. He sat down at the bar as he eyed the hastily scribbled number. Pulling out his phone, he typed it in and sent a text: You gave me your number, but you still haven’t told me your name.

“Hey, there you are!” a familiar voice called out.

Drake’s head snapped up as he pocked the phone, along with the scrap of paper, a grin spreading across his face, “Liam!”

He stood quickly and embraced his old friend.

“I was wondering if you were going to make it!” Liam gestured for him to retake his seat before taking the one next to him.

“I wouldn’t miss your anniversary party!” Drake retook his seat.

“I appreciate that, but it would be nice to see you between the big events.” The childhood best friends had drifted apart, at least geographically, over the last several years.

“Sorry, Li, I know. The last time I was here was your wedding.”

“And my coronation before that.”

“Mom and the ranch have both really needed me.”

“I understand, it’s not like I’ve been to Texas to visit you. Believe me, I understand obligation and responsibility all too well.”

Drake’s brows creased at the trace of sadness in his tone. “Everything okay?”

“What? Yes, everything is fine! Let’s get a drink, I had the bar stock your favorite whiskey!”

“I know, I just haven’t had a chance to drink any yet….” He trailed off as the memory of why he’d abandoned his first drink of the night intruded upon his thoughts. Heat spiked through his veins as the image of her naked body arching up into his spilled through his mind and his eyes scanned the room for her.

“Well, let’s correct that immediately!” Liam laughed as he signaled the bartender over to take their order.

The bartender quickly poured and then slid two glasses over to them.

Drake held his glass up in a toast, “Congratulations!”

“On which part?”

“Both! Here’s to navigating the first year of marriage successfully and to the impending birth of Cordonia’s heir!”

“I’ll drink to that!” Liam lifted his glass in salute and then both men drank.

They spent a few minutes catching up then Liam excused himself, “I have to get back to this interminable ball but please, join me after this monstrosity of a party is over! Upstairs, third floor, the private sitting room in the west wing.”

“West wing? The royal quarters are in the east wing!”

“Yes, well, since my marriage, my wife has taken over…everything there. The decorating, the meal planning, how often the goddamn toothbrushes are replaced! Nothing there feels like mine anymore…” A sigh of frustration escaped him as pinched the bridge of his nose, “Just…the west wing, okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” Drake agreed sympathy pulling through him. He knew Liam had married for duty, not love. He’d been best man at the wedding and Liam had confided in him then that his heart lie with another, but she hadn’t been approved by the council.

He didn’t envy Liam his money, position, or titles. Running a cattle ranch was hard work, but his life was his own.

His thoughts were drawn away from his best friend when his phone pinged. He pulled it out and glanced down at the screen.

I’m not in the habit of telling strangers my name.

He shook his head with a grin as he typed back, I’d say after tonight we’re intimately acquainted. Or would you like to go for round three?

Don’t threaten me with a good time.

They continued to banter back and forth until he’d pried her name out of her and the ball was over.

No one’s ever made me work this hard for a name before. When can I see you again, Riley?

No immediate response, but that didn’t mean anything. Right?

He made his way upstairs and into the west wing. He knocked on the door and then opened it and entered without waiting for a response. Looking around, he noted the new furnishings and decorations in the room. When he had lived at the palace, this entire wing had been in disuse and filled with dusty, centuries-old furnishings. It now looked like something he’d actually be comfortable living in, “I like what you’ve done with the place!”

“Thanks,” Liam handed him a drink and took a seat in a plush leather recliner facing the door, “I’ve missed you. Please tell me you’re done playing cowboy and ready to move back home.”

Drake folded himself into the matching chair across from Liam with a sigh, “I’m not playing cowboy, Li! I’m-“

“I know, I know!” Liam interrupted him, “But let’s be honest. You’re not doing anything that a good foreman can’t do and I’m willing to pay you a small fortune to come back home and take your place in the Royal Guard!”

Drake had left a lucrative military career when his mother had requested his assistance with the family ranch back in Texas. If he were being honest, he did miss Cordonia and even the palace. It had been his home for half his life and Liam was the closest thing to a brother he had.

“Make me an official offer and I’ll think about it.”

“Really?” Liam’s face lit up in delight.

Drake shook his head with an amused grunt, “Yeah. Why not? But don’t get too excited! I said I’d consider it!”

The truth was, as much as he loved his mother, she could be a lot. And Liam was right, he could hire a foreman for the day-to-day running of the ranch.

“Excellent! How long are you here for this time?”

“A week or two, I really want to go out and check on the cabin.” He hadn’t set foot in it in three years.

As if reading his mind Liam assured him, “I’ve had Bastien looking after it. He goes out at least once every few months, makes sure nothing is leaking, no one has broken in, things like that.”

“Thanks, Li. I really appreciate it. Speaking of the cabin…” he gestured around the room, “this looks more like something I would pick for it than something you’d pick for the palace.”

“Oh, I didn’t do this,” Liam grinned.

“But then who-“

“Remember at my wedding when I told you there was someone else? Someone I wished I could have chosen?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, I somehow managed to convince her to stick around and-“

The door opened again and Liam’s entire being lit up. The tension eased from his shoulders as he leapt to his feet to greet her. The change was noticeable and significant, “Here she is now!”

Drake turned around in his seat as the smell of lavender and lilac hit him like a full-throttle freight train right in the chest.

[lex-hj0519]

The Reading Dog

A Sirius-raising-Harry snippet that goes along with my other snippets. This one follows Rebellious, where Harry’s teacher thought he was being “rebellious” when he wouldn’t read aloud in class:

After a quick trip to the Eye Healer, Harry’s “behavioral problems” during read-aloud time in class were resolved. But his up-to-date glasses only revealed more problems for his teacher to bring up — number one being that Harry was not at the same reading level as the rest of his classmates.

Sirius was subjected to a long lecture from Harry’s teacher about how important it is to ensure that Harry catch up now before it’s too late. Good reading habits start at home, she said, and children who are read to at home from an early age are much better off than those who aren’t. Sirius hates that this is just another thing that the Dursleys took from Harry.

Sirius tries to encourage Harry to practice reading with him at home. But no matter how much Sirius gently encourages him and tells him it’s all right, Harry goes silent and flushes with shame when he stumbles over the words. Sirius reading aloud to him before bed goes over better, but he knows that it’s important for Harry to practice, too.  

The teacher suggests letting Harry select some special books to read himself. If he gets to pick it out and is interested in what he’s reading, he’ll be more likely to go through with reading it, she says. Even if it’s a comic book, reading is reading and he has to start somewhere, she says. (Though by the way she wrinkles her nose as she says it, Sirius is sure she would much rather Harry read a chapter book than a comic book.)

So, Sirius puts his plan into motion the next weekend. Harry is fascinated by magic and magical creatures, so what better place to select a few special books than a wizarding bookstore? They bundle up in cloaks, Sirius tugs a beanie down over Harry’s forehead, and they floo together to Hogsmeade under the assumption that it will be less crowded than Diagon Alley.

Harry takes in the cobblestone street and rows of thatched cottages with wide-eyed wonder as they slowly wander down main street towards the bookstore. The villagers and shopkeepers have already started decorating for the holidays, with enchanted candles strung from the trees and holly wreaths on every door. When they finally reach the bookstore, Sirius sets Harry loose in the children’s section with instructions to choose at least three books. He stays within sight, but tries not hover as Harry tentatively approaches the shelves.

Soon enough, he’s pulled into a conversation with the shopkeeper. She has at least a dozen recommendations for him — both children’s books for Harry and parenting books for himself. By the time he manages to pull himself away from her, he’s holding a stack of books and she’s looking very pleased about the sale she’s about to get.

Sirius steps into the children’s section to check on Harry, and is momentarily panicked when the little boy is nowhere in sight. And then he hears a quiet voice reading aloud. Sirius leans against a shelf and listens. Harry voice is tentative at first, but it grows in confidence the longer Sirius listens. Sirius suspects that Harry’s chosen book is a children’s version of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Him, because the boy is now enthusiastically reeling off facts about dragons. Sirius silently peeks around a book shelf, and his heart melts at the sight before him.  

Harry is curled up in a little child-sized armchair in the back corner of the children’s section, an illustrated edition of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them open in his lap. A large, fluffy monstrosity of a kneazle is squished into the chair beside him, watching him read with keen eyes.

“Oooh, I see he’s found Bertie!” The shopkeeper whispers from behind Sirius. “Bertie just loves children. Did you know that reading to pets is a great way for young readers to build confidence? A pet might be just the ticket for your boy!”

Sirius hadn’t planned to get a pet for Harry yet, but he does have the next best thing: himself. That night, Sirius doesn’t say anything when their usual “reading practice” times comes around. Harry fetches one of his new books without prompting, and settles into his usual spot on the couch, his shoulders tight and a miserable expression on his face.

Without a word, Sirius transforms into Padfoot and climbs up onto the couch beside Harry, ignoring the perplexed look on his kid’s face as he spins in place a few times before settling down and placing his head in Harry’s lap. Harry tentatively reaches out and strokes his head, and then he begins to read.

Harry is slow and uncertain at first, but Sirius can feel the tension start to bleed out of him as he continues on. Harry’s voice becomes stronger and more confident with every line. He keeps reading even after his allotted reading time is up, when normally he puts down the book as soon as the clock hits the hour.

Finally, as bed time nears, Harry sets down the book. He leans down, wraps his arms around Sirius, and buries his face into his fur for a moment. “Thanks, Padfoot,” he whispers. “Can we do this again tomorrow night?”

[somewhat-very-insane]

my super really good analysis of scaramouche and the significance of bohemian rhapsody to his character

ok ok !! so please read the whole thing i worked really hard on it

scaramouche aka kunikuzushi aka the balladeer aka shouki no kami the prodigal aka the sixth of the fatui harbingers aka the wanderer had his redesign (as you know) on the anniversary of bohemian rhapsody's release

which on its own is so silly cause yk scaramouche is in the song !!

noo but hoyoverse KNEW what they were doing there they knew from the MOMENT they started designing this character in their heads

because ooh that song is a GOLD MINE of easter eggs for him !!!!

as we know, his creator was the raiden ei - who's archon name is beelzebul/beelzebub, depending on how it's read. you know where ELSE mentions beelzebub? BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY. with the lines        "Oh, mamma mia, mamma mia (Mamma mia, let me go)        Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me, for me, for me" and shortly after,         "So you think you can love me and leave me to die?" which. you know what happens in the genshin lore??? 

scaramouche gets ABANDONED by ei because he shows emotion while SLEEPING [aka, loving him and leaving him to die]. he, in his recent cutscene, refers to her as his "god, [his] creator, [his] mother," and it shows him falling from her puppet strings ["mamma mia, let me go" sound familiar?]. the devil she has set aside for him can be interpreted many ways, but i like to think of it as the gnosis. because the gnosis is the one thing he was created to hold, but also the one thing he cannot have. it tortures him. [like a devil would, no?]

NEXT UP the first song that plays as scara's true identity is revealed to you for the first time in game, and also his current character theme, is called "ominous fandango". that sound familiar? good, cause it'll get better. for some reason, though he was meant to be a copy of, and companion to her, ei made scara ... short. not lore-important at the moment, but makes the song lines funnier.        "I see a little silhouetto of a man        Scaramouche, Scaramouche, will you do the Fandango?" convenient, isn't it?

and you know where the name 'scaramouche' comes from? the italian for "little skirmisher". [he's short, and a fighter. the name works]. you know who ELSE is italian? aside from each of the harbinger's codenames, the man mentioned in the very next lines of the song! after, that is, one VERY IMPORTANT PART. 

raiden ei is the electro archon. she can create storms. lightning. upon attaining the gnosis, the first thing scaramouche does is greet you, and summon a lightning storm as a "gift for your devotion to him," relentlessly attacking anyone and everyone around. hence the line:        "Thunderbolt and lightning very, very frightening me"

you know what comes next? the good 'ol rule of threes!! the lines        "I'm just a poor boy, nobody loves me        He's just a poor boy from a poor family        Spare him his life from this monstrosity" are next. his family? unfortunate. she abandoned him. betrayal #1. his first friend? didn't believe him, and turned against him. betrayal #2. his second friend? either died or was sacrificed (i like to think it may have been ruu, personally) as a child. betrayal #3. he just wants out. or, to be spared.

the lines         "Open your eyes        Look up to the skies and see" work for this as well. after all, was scaramouche not the first person to point out the skies above teyvat are, in fact, fake?

the lines        "Any way the wind blows        Doesn't really matter to me, to me" are perfect for him, as well. he is gifted with an anemo [wind] vision, upon greater lord rhukkadevata's existence being wiped from irminisul. he chills out. a little.

there's definitely more, but that's all i could get from it. yeah ^^

PLEASE add on if you want to

[hecckyeah]

hello I'm back to scream about the skywalker family again!!

LISTEN. LISTEN. Luke had no reason to be that forgiving. NONE. his father lied to him, abandoned him, actively tried to convert him to the very organization Luke gave his literal blood, sweat, and tears fighting against. realistically, LEIA is the normal one!!! she's disgusted by Vader. she's seen him up close and personal and knows exactly what he and the emperor are capable of, and she's right to be afraid and angry and furious and vengeful!!! BUT LUKE. comes in with his humble upbringing and his big blue eyes and his very being just the perfect mix of his mother's compassion and stubbornness and his father's grit and raw power that he's able to do what no living being ever had the ability to do, and he LOVES DARTH VADER. against all odds, against all reason, he walks straight up to this 6 foot 5 monstrosity. this hunk of metal with a raspy robotic voice and seemingly zero human emotion and he looks into those tinted eye holes and he says you are my father and you are NOT a lost cause and I will fight with my last dying breath to make you see the truth that I am your son and I love you and there is still hope for you, after twenty-three years of darkness and pain and suffering, I will personally show you what it means to LOVE and to see the LIGHT again. and the craziest part is? IT WORKS. and Anakin RESPONDS to his SON who he LOVES. and he redeems himself from all the years of war and slavery and pain and regret and agony, all because of this blue eyed boy who has Padme's courage and forgiving nature, and because his son didn't give up on him. and because Anakin finally sees that there IS still good in the world and he has a CHOICE and that there is still HOPE. after all these years, he has HOPE. his son gave him that. he didn't have to. in fact it would have been easier for Luke just to join the attack against death star 2.0 and call it a day but he believed in his dad!!!! he saw what Padme saw. he saw a broken, hurting man who he loved. who needed hope. who needed redemption. who needed his SON.

[sunwarmed-ash]

I bet gavin fell into a comatose cus of the grimace shake

okay A this is hilarious, I love it. B. Here you go. this is probably one of the most fun and ridiculous things I've ever written. So thank you for that! Love you <3 <3

“What the phck is this?” Gavin asks, left eyebrow firmly raised up as he eyed the oversized, lilac monstrosities in the Android's hands.  Connor’s previous smile fell, eyeing the three drinks in their paper holder in his hands with worry. If he still wore that damn LED it would probably be flashing red in overload.  “I- the woman at the store said, they were new. That I should try them. Well, I can’t, but I thought you two could…” “That was very thoughtful of you babe, wasn’t it Gavin?” Hank teased/threatened, bumping the back of Gavin’s shoulder with his arm.  “...Yeah…” Gavin says, still eyeing the diabetic's nightmare wearily.  “So what are these Con?” Hank asks, taking his own drink from the holder and removing the lid to lick the whip cream.   “‘Grimace Milkshakes,’” Connor says, not quite understanding the significance, or the name.  “Like the huge purple phck?” Gavin clarifies, taking his own, because he was not gonna be labeled a bad sport in his own home.  He looked at the golden arches on the plastic cup for one more trepidatious moment before taking a sip.  -*- The obsession did not end in his living room that night.  One sip, and Gavin was hooked, faster than any drug he’s popped, snorted, or smoked. He wished, he really wished he could have just hated the damn thing and moved on with his life but no. the Grimace Milkshake had become his latest obsession. So much he was replacing meals for it.  It had been going on for weeks and so far, no one had called him out on it. Did he have to go to painstaking lengths to keep this obsession a secret?(like hiding them in his coffee thermos and having to wait until it melted enough to be liquid and not raise suspicion)Yes. but it was worth it, for the incredibly sweet, berry taste of the limited time beverage.  He figured it wouldn't catch up with him. He had spent most of his life narrowly avoiding consequences. He was crafty like that. And still young. And yes 37 is still young, thank you very much. It was just sugar. Shit was packed into everything he ate anyway. What's the worst that could happen? Turns out the worst that can happen is Connor and Hank finding him in a sugar coma, passed out on his living room floor after ingesting 6 of those stupid drinks and taking humiliating pictures to blackmail him with later...  If he didn't love his two moronic boyfriends so much, he’d phucking kill them.

[writingbyrenae]

Untitled Robot Fucker Story

(This isn't really a proper wip intro, I just wanted to get input on my ideas)

Genre: science fantasy

Setting: earth like planet

Tropes/CWs: enemies to lovers, bullying, former child soldiers, reverse harem, whump?, (dubcon?) smut

Rough summary [so far]:

Merula, a young woman in willing exile from human society, lives in the ruins surrounding a beautiful city full of robots. She’s never been inside, and she never intends to. Instead she runs an emergency clinic for humans and robots, rescuing people who get lost or are attacked by the various monstrosities that lurk where civilization once was. Unfortunately, her clinic is technically illegal, and the knights of the robot city corner her. She’s given a choice: Serve out a sentence as one of their medics, or be sent back to human civilization. It’s not even really a choice - returning to humans isn’t an option. Besides, she likes robots. Maybe more than she should.

Too bad not all the robots like her. Turns out there are two familiar faces she’s expected to help, figures from the robot rebellion that led to her turning her back on her society. One, her dead father’s sworn rival. The other, the only surviving leader of the rebellion itself. They remember her. They know what she’s done, and didn’t do. And they’re not going to let her escape like she did during the war. On top of that, a third robot joins in, young and reckless and seeking the approval of his heroes. He doesn’t know who she is. She hopes he never learns.

Characters (so far):

Merula Kyriel - Heroine

"Everything is gonna be alright, no matter what."

Human (Latina coded)

Genius roboticist

Former child soldier in self-imposed exile from humanity

Believes she's overcome the trauma of her past (she hasn't!)

Sunshine girl - Bright eyed sweetheart who likes helping people and tends to suppress her darker emotions rather than face them

Zodiac the Victorious - antagonist/LI

"I don't like liars, girl. Especially ones who are bad at it."

Was one of three leaders of the robot uprising in a human metropolis. He's the only one who survived

Cold, cynical, suppressed cruel streak but deeply loyal to those under his command, even the humans

Dislikes humans in general; has a shared past with Merula he's bitter about

They met twice when she was younger, during the rebellion. Memorable encounters

He's attracted to her but doesn't like it

Solstice the Free - antagonist/LI

"You're not even half the human your father was."

A powerful robot from the uprising

Grumpy, antagonistic, loner - frustrated and exhausted, probably takes a lot of naps

Rivals with Merula's father - possibly killed him

Sees his rival in her face and he hates it

Mostly just wants to be left alone but plot keeps happening

Trigger - antagonist/LI

"Wow, humans bruise really easily!"

A young knight built after the uprising

Impatient, energetic, impulsive, likes music and competitions

Has no idea who Merula is tbh, he just enjoys messing with her

Looks up to the older knights as his heroes

Basically a shounen protagonist but with the asshole traits played up

Troubleshoot - ally

"No worries! I got your back."

Medic bot, "twin" sister to Trigger

Cheerful, naive, fun loving, warm-hearted, but more mature than her 'brother'

Also has no idea who Merula is but thinks humans are neat

Takes her job seriously despite her light-hearted nature

Annoyed and upset by the strange (to her) behavior of the older knights

Tag list, ask to be added or removed:

@clairelsonao3

[asmolbirb]

Of interests and indulging them

we love an unhinged prettyboy! wyler, ambiguous ending, idk whether i’ll upload this to AO3

-xx-

“You just couldn’t stay away, huh?” Tyler asks, familiar boyish grin affixed upon his lips. It’s the one part of him that hasn’t changed, hasn’t been whittled into emaciation by the imprecise knife of imprisonment. His face is thinner, his eyes weighed down by dark bags; his already lanky frame is swallowed up by the garish jumpsuit he wears; if she looked at his wrists, Wednesday guesses she would find angry gouges where Tyler’s been straining against the shackles that bind him.

But his smile persists. Playful curiosity, a trait in which Wednesday had once found kinship, still lingers in his eyes.

Silence stretches between them as Tyler watches Wednesday watching him, neither wanting to be the first to break.

Wednesday’s got more practice winning their battles of will, though, and she prevails again here: eventually Tyler’s smile fades, and his eyes skate away from hers. “If you’re looking for answers, you won’t find any here,” he says. “You’ll just end up disappointed.” Sarcasm creeps into his tone, acrid like the bite of a mousetrap around Wednesday’s fingers. “But I guess you already know everything there is to know about Hydes, don’t you? That’s why I’m in here, and you’re out there, instead of the other way around.”

He gestures viciously toward the glass window that separates them. Its faint blue tint belies the nightshade sandwiched between the panes, the most obvious of the antioutcast measures that reinforce the divider. The nightshade is meant to deter any attempts to shatter the glass and escape via the visitors’ room, but Wednesday has already come up with three different methods for counteracting it. She’s certain she could combat the other antioutcast measures, too, given enough time to discover what they are.

“You don’t know what questions I’m asking,” she finally responds.

“Then why don’t you enlighten me,” he hisses.

“They’re not questions for you.”

He laughs quietly, bitterly. It’s a beautiful sound. “Of course not. Why would they be? You’ve never been interested in me. Not until you found out I was a monster, too.”

Wednesday tips her head imperceptibly at the outburst, the abundance of insight capable of being gleaned from just a few syllables. Monster: a revelation, a peeling back of the gleeful, sadistic nonchalance Tyler affects in an attempt to obscure the self-loathing he feels. Too: for him, this glass window is akin to a mirror, and Wednesday his reflection. Wednesday, a monster, too.

How loathsome. The thought could almost make her smile.

Tyler lunges suddenly toward her, seemingly having grown tired of Wednesday’s silent contemplation. The glass rattles with the impact, then again when he pounds his fist against it. He snarls at her, wide-eyed, face taut with contempt, body trembling as though he’s trying and failing to shift. Throughout all of this pageantry, Wednesday does not flinch.

Instead, she wonders if he, too, has realized he is a Hyde without a master. She wonders if it frightens him not to have another target, not to have someone showing him the acceptable directions in which to unleash his resentment. She wonders if he has even begun to explore the unending depths of monstrosity that now yawn open inside him, or if he is still tiptoeing around their edges, waiting for someone to guide him deeper. 

He's right about one thing. Though Wednesday had always found Tyler interesting, even before she knew the truth, his flavor of interesting had been peripheral at best, secondary to the more pressing interests at hand.

But now he’s of interest.

And Wednesday is interested.

She stands. “I have always been honest with you about my intentions. I’ll grant you the privilege of that honesty once more,” she says. “You don’t frighten me.”

“Then you’re a fool,” he says, voice so richly scornful she could almost bite into it—into him—and feel it burst into bitter flame on her tongue. “And you deserve everything that’s coming to you.”

“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” she promises. And with a crisp pivot and Tyler’s gaze burning into her back, she departs.

[quietwingsinthesky]

Title: until we meet again || Chapter 1/2

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: N/A

Relationship: Cobra Bubbles & Nani Pelekai, Gen, Grand Councilwoman & Lilo Pelekai, Jumba Jookiba & Stitch | Experiment 626

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Being Lost, Broken Families, Grief/Mourning, Kidnapping. POV Second Person, Work In Progress

Summary:

What do you do now? (AU where Nani doesn’t convince Jumba and Pleakley to help her rescue Lilo and the resulting consequences.)

What do you do when the creature that comes tumbling out of the capture pod is not Experiment 626, but an Earth native, a child, who spends three seconds wide-eyed and terrified before the assembled command before she bites someone? She gets him good, too, the disgraced captain who kidnapped her. She punctures through his scaly hide with her blunt human teeth until he shouts, and then she scurries between legs and tentacles and flailing arms. She makes it out of the room and a little down the hall before she’s caught again, brought back snapping and screaming, tears in her eyes.

“Let me go!” she yells, pitched so high your ear-chutes ache and shut slightly to block it out. “Let me go! Let me go! Let me go let megoletmegoletme-“ Faster, without breaths between the words, as tears spill down her cheeks and her nose starts to run. She kicks the guard holding her, and they drop her.

“Who are you?” you ask. You motion for Captain Gantu to be sent away. You will deal with him later. Now, you soften your tone and approach the girl.

You have never given much thought to collateral damage, but now, it’s having a breakdown in the middle of your workplace.

The girl sucks in a messy breath, straightens up, and shouts at you, “My name is Lilo! My sister is Nani!”

“Nani?” This only seems to upset her more.

“Nani! She’s-“ she lifts her hand, gets up on her toes, strains her arm as far as she can reach. “She’s this-!” More tears roll down her cheeks as she drops her arm, too small to reach, to make her point. “She’s tall! She’s tall, and she has dark hair and brown eyes, and you took me away from her!!!”

You sigh. “I’m sorry,” you say, “I don’t know who that is.”

“I don’t care! You have to bring me back!”

You shake your head.

Lilo wails.

What do you do with a child? You have never had one. You've never even been around one. This girl is an alien, lost amid the deep black ocean of space. She can never go home. Who knows what the consequences of that would be? And more importantly, if the few observations Agent Pleakley sent you before you terminated his employment were to be trusted, she was very close to Experiment 626.

She could be useful.

So, the answer is this. You pick her up off the ground. You adopt her as your own. You let her grow. You take her into your employ. You train her. You teach her to fly. You give her a ship and a gun.

You send her out into the galaxy to track down 626.

-----

What do you do when your greatest creation, made to fight and destroy and love every minute of it, instead sits and mopes?

Your assigned babysitter, now fellow fugitive, has finally put two-and-two together. You are not returning your creation, and he is not getting his job back. One mopes, one pouts. It’s going to be a very long trip.

You don’t have to feed the Experiment. It could last for dozens of years without food and still never tire. You offer it a bite of what little you smuggled off that delightful planet anyway, and for your good deed, get it spat back in your face. You wipe it off in disgust, narrowing four eyes at it, slightly bloodshot from lack of rest.

“What?” you demand. “You’re still upset? You didn’t belong there. You don’t belong anywhere, but you are my monstrosity, and I will take care of you.” Your creation glares at you. This is new. You never attached your experiment’s destructive capability to anger. No. Too dangerous to teach it how to hold a grudge. You gave it glee instead. And somehow, it has learned how to despise you anyway. "Parts of you, anyway."

A glitch. One you will resolve. Your creation cannot learn. It cannot find new purpose. It simply is what it is, what you made it.

Waiting, croaks with grief in your mind, family.

You look down at your impertinent creation. You feel a twinge of pity in your twin livers.

“It won’t hurt for much longer,” you tell it. “Soon, I will remake you better. Stronger. We will forget all about this. A blip in our lives.” You turn from it, and you see your new copilot poking a button he really shouldn’t if he doesn’t want this flight to go catastrophically wrong. This ship, as tiny as it is, still has an airlock, but the thought doesn’t even cross your mind. You’re too fond of him. He makes you laugh, and who else is going to put up with him?

Who else is going to put up with you?

You settle back in the pilot’s seat, remove his cool hand from the console, and say, “Do not touch that. We’ll explode.”

He reacts with characteristic exasperation, “why would you even have that button?!”, and you try to pretend you really will go back to exactly who you were before this all began.

(In the years to come, you do try to fix your creation ("Stitch!" it protests, no matter how you put it back together, "my name is Stitch!") and you even pick up a tail. A persistent one. You must still be quite a thorn in the Grand Councilwoman's side. Once, in the middle of a glorious chase across the cosmos, you catch a glimpse of your pursuer through their cockpit window. You even almost recognize her.)

-----

What do you do when the child you were supposed to protect goes missing?

The first thing you do is get chewed out by your boss, a sharp woman who likes order more than she likes children, while you take it stoically, though after the things you’ve been through, there’s not many other ways you could take it. The second thing you do is organize a dozen search parties that turn up nothing. The third thing you do is reread Nani’s testimony, as jumbled as it is, written off as the results of grief and denial.

You reread it a few times. You don’t have much else to do. They don’t have another case to put you on yet. After all, you’re the one who comes at the breaking point, the fixer, the man who gets the job done. Not this time.

You record all the calls you get. Used to be standard procedure at your old post, safety. So, alone, you play Lilo’s voice again and again, listening hard to the chaos in the background. Do you know those sounds? Have you heard those shots be fired before?

And finally, you give Nani a visit.

You don’t want to face her. It’s the hardest thing you’ve ever done. You’re including the training to withstand interrogation in that. You would prefer waterboarding.

When she sees you, she loses it. You let her, ensconced behind your dark glasses. She like a part of her has died. You let her scream until she can’t anymore, voice hoarse as she collapses, burying her face in her arms.

You have always been aware of how young she is, the injustice of it.

You sit beside her, but you give her ample space. “Tell me exactly what the ship looked like,” you say.

Nani chokes. “What?”

You take off your sunglasses. “The ship that took your sister. Give me the most accurate description you can.” She looks at you like you’re crazy, but then, she does tell you. You’ve heard UFO stories from all over the country, flying saucers and little green men. It’s easy to tell who’s lying when you’ve seen a real ship with your own two eyes, learned how it’s powered and how it flies. Nani makes no mistakes. If anything, the details that you don’t recognize are natural progressions of alien technology since those that crash-landed on Earth.

She finishes. She waits for you to tell her she’s lying.

“I believe you,” you say. It changes very little. Neither of you can reach Lilo.

But maybe, between the two of you, you can find a way to have her brought back.

“Are you still looking for a job?” you ask.

(You wish it were as easy as her saying yes, as you calling in every favor you've ever worked for, as creating a force to monitor space that even NASA would be jealous of if they knew you existed. You wish it were as easy as calling out into the void and begging for a little girl to be returned to her family. If Nani won't give up, and she won't give up, than neither will you. No matter how long it takes. This is your mess. You have to clean it up.)