#but some ships are crack ships for a fuckin reason just OWN THAT SHIT

[kastlequill]

yall ever read a “this is why my ship is/will be canon” analysis about a chronically noncanon ship and its just the most delusional thing

[angelic-muse]

unforgettable

a/n: i couldn't not write anything for his special day, so enjoy, and happiest of birthdays to my silly mosshead man. this was written with both anime and opla zoro in mind so feel free to interpret it as either.

pairing: roronoa zoro x gn!reader

warnings: just fluff, not proofread

summary: it's your lover's birthday, and what better way to start the celebration than to stay awake and surprise him at midnight?

...that is, if you can stay awake.

must stay awake... must stay awake.

the sentence replayed itself in your groggy head like a mantra, a broken record stuck on repeat, a toy train running in slow circles around your brain as you fought the urge to tip over the line between wakefulness and sleep.

zoro deserved more than that.

"my birthday? never really done anything for it," he'd grunted the day before after you'd brought it up. the swordsman had frowned, scratched his head. "kinda forgot it was tomorrow, actually."

and it was then that you decided to make this birthday — and all his next ones, for that matter — unforgettable.

so after some pleading with nami that then lead to careful rearrangement of night watch schedules (despite the crew's grumbling), zoro would be set to finish his shift at midnight — exactly midnight.

and what would he find when he returned to his room? you, of course, waiting for the moment he stepped through the door to shower him in love and birthday wishes, followed by a day of celebrations just for him.

well, that was your plan.

but the actual staying awake hadn't been part of it.

since your shift for night watch was the last one, just before sunrise, you were lucky enough to be able to sleep soundly all night till then. which meant you were not at all used to being awake at this time and your body was slowly but surely losing the fight to fall unconscious.

you yawned, blinking heavy eyelids as you turned to squint at the sky, the gentle moonlight washing the deck of the going merry in its milky glow. it wasn't quite yet at its highest point — still not midnight.

surely a little lay down before zoro returned couldn't hurt, right?

don't fall asleep, you promised yourself one last time as you settled into his own hammock, breathing in the lingering scent of him with a sigh. don't fall asleep...

zoro muttered angrily as he stomped across the ship back to his room, not bothering to soften the loud thumping of his boots against the planks, swords clanking noisily at his hip.

"serves 'em right if they wake up," he groused, "putting me up there at this time all of a sudden for no fuckin' reason—"

he cut short as he shoved into his room, raising a brow at the sight that met him as he rid himself of swords and shirt. there you were, curled up in his spot, sleeping soundly like a contented cat.

"the hell you doing in my hammock?" he grumbled under his breath, but zoro slid in beside you anyways, throwing an arm over your shoulders and folding the other behind his head. he didn't mind that you were here — he never did. sleeping beside you was nothing out of the ordinary anymore. he liked it, enjoyed the easy comfort and security that came with you tucked against his side; hearts beating in time, every breath shared.

it was right when zoro was beginning to drift off that he felt you stir awake. cracking open one eye, he watched as you sat up, blinking tiredly. "zo... zoro?"

"what got you up?" he murmured as you yawned and stretched your arms overheard. "m'here, get back to sleep." get back to cuddling me.

"the smell of a pirate who hasn't showered in a week," you joked groggily, rubbing at your eyes. then you froze. shit.

shit!

"no, i fell asleep!" you groaned, burying your face in your hands. how could you? you promised yourself you wouldn't, for him, and now... "fuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck... i'm sorry." you peeked back up at him, lower lip stuck out.

zoro frowned. "hah? what the hell are you on about?"

"i was meant to stay up," you said sadly. "to say happy birthday to you. at midnight. that's why i got nami to change your watch..."

rubbing a hand across his face, zoro sat up to look at you properly, blinking sleep away. you went to the trouble of getting his night watch changed and stayed up in his room just to say happy birthday to him? seriously?

he'd be surprised, but really, that was just the kind of stupid, endearing thing you'd do.

and so he laughed.

you blinked at him as his wide shoulders shook with mirth, head tossed back. an embarrassed warmth crept up your neck and you folded your arms, attempting to glare at him even as you fought to hold down a smile. "wh— it's not funny!"

"nah," he grinned at you as his laughter died down. "it's just cute. c'mere."

you yelped in half-protest as zoro grabbed your head to pull into his chest, laying back down with a sigh.

"you don't hafta... stay up until midnight or do shit like that just for me." he uttered after a moment of quiet, brushing his fingers through your hair. "you need your sleep, and i need mine. so just... just wait until morning next year, yeah?"

"i... okay," you sighed, trailing a finger across his chest, drawing mindless patterns over scarred, tawny skin, making him suppress a shiver. "i still have stuff planned for later, though."

"yeah? let's hear it."

"i'm not ruining the surprise, silly. but... i did get you some presents and convinced sanji to bake you a cake. among other things."

zoro snorted. "bet that shitty cook did it for you more than me."

"probably," you teased, tilting your head to look up at him. "don't get jealous that he might love me more than you, it's okay."

the swordsman scoffed, turning you both on your sides with a grunt. "maybe, but he'll never love you as much as i do."

you chuckled, tucking your head into the crook of his neck, inhaling his familiar scent; steel and sweat with an earthier undertone somewhere beneath. "i love you too, even though you still smell like you've never showered."

zoro barked out a laugh, tightening a thick arm around your waist to pull you further into him. "i'll take a shower for your birthday, how's that sound?"

you peered up at him and wrinkled your nose. he grinned.

"you're gross," you muttered with a smile even as you snuggled further into him. he kissed your forehead and you could feel his own smile against your skin.

"and you still love me."

"lucky you, huh?"

zoro exhaled softly, closing his eyes. "yeah, lucky me."

slowly, quiet draped itself over the two of you like the softest blanket, comforting and warm as the sounds of your breathing lulled each other to sleep after gentle whispers of goodnight and wishes of good dreams. and he rocked you in his arms, like how the gentle waves rocked you from below, mother nature's cradle for her sleeping children as they rested in an embrace so tightly woven with nothing but pure love not even the sharpest sword could ever hope to sever it.

and that morning, when zoro awoke to his dear lover smothering his face with kisses as they pulled him from his sleep with the promise of birthday gifts, he knew with clarity, such a deep, resounding clarity it made his heart ache—

that you, on this day and every other, were the greatest gift he could ever ask for.

nia's ask box is open!

[oogaboogaspookyman]

Better pinned post let's fuckin' go folks

NAME: Tapes, Spookyman, Spooky, Spooker, whatever the hell comes from my url tbh lol (feel free to call me Sinner or Slut that's an option too since i'm as horn knee as a fuckin' rabbit/j)

(There's also Six if you wanna refer to good ol' Murder Drones me)

This is an autistic, bisexual, essentially genderfluid freak of nature that has a questionable mental/emotional stability and mmaaaaaaayyyy orrrrr mmmaayy not have some other disorder apart from the mentioned autism, a possibility being Borderline

I work on things that are either extremely fucked up or just dumb stupid gang doing dumb stupid gags, but i do like me some comfort stuff~

I am. Pretty dumb and immature and lack impulse control plussss... the energy to actually do shit about it lmao. Yes this means i'll sometimes casually say or do insensitive things without knowing pretty much hhhhh (and the rejection sensitivity doesn't help)

Oh yeah i'm also pretty aggressive as in "HOW DARE THEE MAKE ME CRY LIKE THIS I'M GONNA EAT YOUR LIVER". That and the other sense that i'd rather not disclose for personal reasons

What am i into? Let's see here...

Murder Drones (V💕💕💕💕💕💕💕)

Pokemon, kinda

My own hypothetical animated series called A Grim Place. If you want me to ramble about it my dms are open

Internet horror (ya ever seen The Walten Files? Lacey Games? They're good examples)

Friday Night Funkin'. It's on the god damn title

Body horror

Boys and girls that can pretty much kill me. Horrible taste, i know

DOG NIGHTMARES SONG THAT FUCKS PLEASE LISTEN TO IT

The Amazing Digital Circus, a bit

Cult Of The Lamb (i made a mascot horror au for this lmaooo)

Ruler Of Everything, my life force

Etc etc etc i don't got the energy to list everything, so it's all off the top of my head

Dni? Eh too lazy, you know the basics and you'll learn more of me later anyway

If you're looking for the 100 reasons to live post, here's the link. Please stay with us, i'd hate to see you go like this. There's always another day.

FUN SHIT TO DO BECAUSE I'M BORED

Art trades (OPEN)

Requests (OPEN)

Flirt with my fucking characters it's funny (OPEN)

What do my blorbos think of yours? (OPEN)

Crack ships lmaoooo (OPEN)

Glimpses into the past and future (OPEN)

Those games where you give me like- an expression based on uhhh a number and a letter like- A5 and i draw a guy feeling a thing yeah that stuff you know what i'm talking about (OPEN)

A Grim Place designs!!! (OPEN)

Shippy ask stuff heehoo (OPEN)

Idfk dude lmao no better ideas i'll add more as time goes by

EXTRAS!!!

Beaverscratch translator for all your spooky lore related needs~

Whatever else i come up with lol

[synthville]

so what im getting is that it was absolutely unnecessary to isolate raffi on gotham city in order for her story to go on.

a story that’s so halfhearted that five episodes in—halfway to the end. btw—her motivation is yet to be explained (why go back to this sector of intelligence work when teaching seemed to be fulfilling? was she made to do this?? did she volunteer because her son now lives on this planet now apparently?? was losing elnor cris and possibly seven so painful that burying herself in work seemed like a better option??? who knows! not me!!) and it’s definitely a retreat character-wise but the fact that they still haven’t laid the groundwork to make this stick is kind of amazing lol. it’s the way they’re not even pretending to give a fuck about her or any of the other women characters for me—they said you’re a womb or a subordinate ladies pick one and shut the hell up LMAO?

the fact that the ‘real plot’ is happening on that other ship while everything raffi does is basically an afterthought with backstory slipped in between the cracks like aged caulk is so disheartening and pathetic. star trek picard make an effort maybe. she’s a polarizing character that’s been stuck in impossible situations, weighed down with retractions and stereotypes (they thread the line but HM) because the narrative continually refuses to meaningfully engage with her and a lot of fans of the show wont examine their own biases to see why they have such a viscerally negative reaction to a complicated black woman character that’s good at what she does, knows it and refuses to kneel at the foot of their hero’s :)

and if it wasn’t for ms hurd elevating this performance with sheer will, massive talent and the whip of that (sexy) ponytail? shit would be so much worse. but it’s still bad! because instead of giving her a nuanced, thoughtful send off she’s once again being made to suffer for the nth time. because why? oh right so wise man worf can guide her to the light lol give me a fuckin break.

and it’s no accident that if you cut raffi out (which they literally did in ep4 miss musiker you WILL be avenged) the story could more or less proceed as usual. that’s by design.

because legacy characters or not, im simply not buying that the main white cast members (plus two interlopers idgaf about those new guys and they’re doing nothing to make me care either. pick a random channel and their stories are being told right now live and in color like don’t piss me off) just so happen to be on the ship with the lead yet the sole woc is sent away on some underbaked adventure because ‘reasons?’ please. this season literally could not be more transparent about the audience they’re catering to and who/whose stories are of importance and consideration.

and i knew this would probably happen once the premise for s3 was revealed but i still can’t get over how obvious it is that there really was no plan for raffi and that she only happened to bypass the cull of the la sirena crew because she was romantically linked with seven at the time. which is baffling considering how things are (not) going between them (#theyareMARRIEDletthemTALKandKISSandREST)

and it’s not just them like everything about this season is quite literally happening just because. every slightly interesting or fresh development (and character it’s true) from the previous seasons has been dismissed or diminished and for what? secret sons and man pain? ew lmao. no suspense no lingering threads just excessive shots of ships, an aggressive insistence on biological families and rampant, shameless references to past glory. a mess.

[mymedicine]

Love and Other Drugs

or, 5k of new bf harry

moodboard/inspo tag + my masterlist

sum - yacht parties are cool and all, but harry really just wants to spend more time with his girl

warnings - alcohol (have I even written a fic where both mc’s are sober the whole time yet lmao), light sexy stuff (lil bit of ch*king k*nk if you squint), swearing probably, harry being a little shit, fluff to the maxxxxx

notes - good lord, this fic has been the absolute death of me. I stg, murphy’s law is real. anyways, the driving home scene is completely inspired by real life events that once made me swoon, but now I am lonely and so so tired so pls be nice to me thx much love <3

“Hold still!”

Harry whined and craned his neck away from his girlfriend’s hand, but he wasn’t able to go far with his back flush against the car door. “No baby, we’re already late!”

“But you’ve got jam on you!” Y/N cried. She reached her fingers up to rub the reddish marks off of his face, but, once again, he turned his head away like a stubborn child. “And we wouldn’t have been late if you hadn’t spent two hours combing your hair.”

“S not jam, it’s lipstick,” He insisted, deliberately ignoring her second (valid) point.

“Whatever. It’s on your cheek.”

Y/N made one final attempt to clean him up, but this time, he managed to escape the circle of her arms. He ran backwards toward the dock, taunting her playfully as he went, “Come on, baby!”

“Harry!” Given no other choice, she frantically pushed the lock button on the car key and chased after her child—er, boyfriend. She winced as her high heels hit the asphalt, feet aching against the gold sandals already. He’d slowed down a little to give her a break, but she was still panting as she yelled, “You can’t go to a fancy yacht party with lipstick on your face!”

He finally stopped running—thank God, because they were right in front of the ship and the last thing Y/N needed was to embarrass herself (or rather, be embarrassed by her man-child boyfriend) within sight of all the famous people that would surely be onboard already.

“But I like it.” He pouted as she reached him, entwining his fingers with hers before she could use them to try to scrub his face again.

Before she could reply, a familiar Irish accent boomed over the loud purring of the boat’s engine, “Harry! Y/N!”

Y/N really hoped someone was keeping an eye on Niall tonight. It was barely dusk and he already looked a little too buzzed to be leaning over the railing on the top deck. She craned her neck up to look at him, giggling to herself at the flush in his cheeks and the blonde mess on top of his head.

“Welcome abooaaard!” He waved far more aggressively than was necessary.

“Happy birthday, Niall!” Y/N yelled back at him, blocking the bright sun with one hand—a hand she discreetly wrestled out of Harry’s.

Harry, too, looked upward and was squinting into the sky. The sun was just beginning its descent into the horizon, and soon the evening would be hanging behind the silvery moon. In the mean time, the sky was bright and painted with delicate strokes of soft pink and peachy orange.

While Harry waved back at his friend, Y/N took advantage of the distraction—and his exposed cheek.

Without warning, she hurled her hand up to his face and swiped at the pink mark as hard as she could.

“Hey!” Harry whipped his head back to her, mock hurt written all over his face.

Y/N flashed him a cheeky, victorious smile. “Got it!”

September in south Florida was as hot and humid as summer anywhere else. Even out at sea, with the cool ocean wind surging throughout the top deck of the yacht, it was plenty warm enough for the guests to enjoy the outdoors.

“H, can you hold my phone and keys in your pocket?”

Harry was standing awkwardly near the railing of the boat, fiddling absently with the plume of lace and chiffon on his black top. He still had a faint reddish mark on his cheek (she wasn’t sure if it was leftover lipstick or just irritated from her rubbing at it) that Y/N, despite the turmoil that had ensued over it, found very endearing. She always thought he was handsome. She had since the first day they met four months earlier. But tonight, he was positively glowing. He shined in the fabulous black number, his skin further brightened by the setting sun and the utter joy coursing through him (the entire flute of champagne he’d already downed certainly didn’t hurt, either).

He took the phone and keys from her while she admired him, happy to help her but not without a smart remark: “You should’ve worn the dress with the pockets, love,” he chastised her playfully, a smirk dressing his berry lips.

Y/N’s eyes widened, “You said you liked the pink on me!”

Choosing her dress for the night had been an ordeal that rivaled even Harry’s complicated hair routine. She’d originally chosen a black long sleeved one with pockets that was comfortable and appropriate and matched Harry’s own all-black ensemble (which he’d had picked out for weeks). Her boyfriend rejected the black dress, pointing out that she’d be hot it in because “It’s practically summer in Miami, love.” Instead, he chose a silky pink number, midi-length and tight in all the right places with a tastefully low cowl neckline. She’d dressed it up with a few gold bracelets and a single pearl earring in her left ear that, to her satisfaction, matched Harry’s. And yeah—it didn’t have pockets, but Harry liked it and it made her feel sexy and that’s all that mattered.

Harry hummed with a tight lipped grin. “Yeah, you’re right,” His tone was innocent, almost regretful as he looked her up and down. The pink sunset behind her was highlighting her figure just right, wind rushing through her hair, exposed skin supple and tempting. Harry was mesmerized by her.

His hands moved on their own accord to gently hold her by the waist. “Your ass looks really cute in the silk…I reckon the color makes your skin glow a bit, too. And matches your makeup, and looks nice with my earring…” He continued spewing some breathy compliments at her, even after she sort of stopped listening when a waiter holding a tray of delectable looking hors d'oeuvres caught her attention.

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Of course, honey,” she replied (mostly) honestly. He was always a mushy little sap for her, but she truly did love the way he appreciated the little things she put effort into. “Thank you for noticing those little details.”

“You’re welcome. Know ya don’ just do it f’me though,” His ring clad fingers drummed against her waist, the metal cold through the thin silky material she wore. “Love that about you.”

Y/N cracked a smile in spite of the nervous shiver washing over her at his words. She couldn’t help but notice it was already the second time he’d said that word since they’d embarked. He was treading dangerously close to the vast, uncharted l-word territory. He’s a little buzzed, she reasoned with herself, despite also knowing it was silly because he’d only had a single champagne. But then again, he was a lightweight—and judging by the way he suddenly dropped her waist to chase down a passing waitress for two more glasses, he wouldn’t be slowing down any time soon. If he told her while he was drunk, would it really count?

He returned to her side, keeping one flute for himself and presenting the other to her. “Thank you, honey,” she said, grasping the stem of it (even though she still had a half full one resting precariously on the railing behind her). It was a fitting nickname for him, she thought. She hadn’t really meant for that to become her little pet name for him, but he loved it just as much as she did. “You’re sweet.”

“You’re sweeter,” her boyfriend hummed happily, “even when you’re checking out that waiter…”

“No! I wasn’t!”

“You kinda were,” He smiled cheekily at her.

“Was not.”

“’S alright, baby. He’s handsome. You’re allowed to have a little look.” But the way he held her protectively by the hip betrayed his words.

“You know I only have eyes for you,” If that wasn’t a hint, she didn’t know what was. “I’m just hungry. He was holding bacon wrapped shrimp, I think.”

“Mmm, me too,” Harry replied, the interaction already forgotten in favor of a savory snack. He tugged on her hand so they could follow that waiter, grumbling as they padded around the crowded deck. “Niall’s a fuckin ass for not serving dinner at an evening party.”

“Oh give him a break! It’s his birthday.” she let him pull her toward the middle where more people were gathered around the bar and admiring the decor—

“Is that an ice scultpure?”

Harry was right. It was a giant clear sculpture of a guitar made entirely out of ice. People were around it, admiring the intricacies and mingling and sipping on expensive looking drinks.

“How long you bet til it melts?”

“Not before Niall accidentally knocks it over,” Y/N laughed and gestured toward the man of the hour, who indeed was stumbling over his feet while trying to maintain a conversation with a group of several strikingly beautiful looking people—models? Probably.

It was obvious that Niall hadn’t planned this for himself. The whole thing was far too elegant and classy. His drunken ramblings were entertaining, sure, but he stood out amidst the black tie formals and live R&B music floating around the large deck of the luxurious vehicle.

Harry chased down the waiter and grabbed shrimp skewers for them both while Y/N continued quietly giggling at Niall’s antics.

Minutes drifted into hours as alcohol, shrimp skewers, and joyful conversation flowed liberally about the deck. Y/N had separated herself from Harry—much to his drunken dismay—to go and mingle with some of the “famous people.” She did it all on her own, confidently striding over and striking up a conversation with anyone worthy of her attention.

“Long time no see, mate.” Mitch’s voice interrupted Harry’s inner thoughts surrounding his girlfriend. He tore his eyes away from her and turned to face his friend, who was standing with his own girlfriend beside him.

“Been busy,” Harry replied.

Sarah’s eyebrows rose as a grin spread across her cheeks. She glanced at Mitch, who wore a matching one.

“You both have been quite busy, yeah?” Sarah cocked her head toward where Y/N was, grin widening along with Harry’s eyes.

Harry hid his smile in his glass, taking a large gulp of the bubbly. “What d’ya mean?” He asked innocently.

“We saw you staring at her, buddy.”

Well, fuck. He can’t exactly deny that. He was indeed watching her as she mingled with a group of people—exceptionally beautiful people. She fit in perfectly with the models, her smile bright and dress shiny, hips swaying tantalizingly to the beat of the drums. She engaged effortlessly in what looked like an exciting conversation with A-listers and held their attention with sweeping hand gestures. Even from across the deck, he swore he could feel her joy. Light just radiated off of her and sent a gentle flutter through his belly and a heat wave through his heart.

Sarah studied him. The way his eyes twinkled and his cheeks flushed with happiness…it was obvious. “You love her.” She deadpanned.

Harry shrugged in response, a knowing smile on his face which he didn’t bother to hide this time.

“You do!” It was Mitch this time, who wrapped an arm around Sarah and looked at her with the same happy smile his friend wore.

“No comment.” A twinge of jealously bit his heart as he watched a handsome brunette lean down to whisper something in his girlfriend’s ear. He frowned instinctively, picturing the man muttering flirtatious compliments or dirty suggestions to her like he should be doing right now.

Sarah continued to watch Harry watch Y/N, unsure if he was even listening anymore. “It’s alright to admit it. Love is a beautiful thing.”

“Don’t listen to her,” said Mitch, “it’s a drug!”

“Hey look!” Harry shouted a distraction, pointing somewhere behind the two of them. He spotted two waiters bringing out an impressive tiered cake swirled with white frosting and topped with those sparkling candles. “It’s time to sing for the birthday boy!”

The boat erupted in a cacophonous rendition of the birthday song as the cake was placed on top of the bar. Night had fallen over the deck, making the sparkly decorations shine blindly bright against the moonlight. Meanwhile, Niall was dancing hysterically among the crowds, even singing along to his own birthday song in a drunken spree. At the final, …to you! he performed a dramatic bow and roared, “Thank you, beautiful people!”

Applause died slowly as Niall began grabbing peoples’ faces to kiss their cheeks in thanks. Y/N looked around for Harry, quite certain that her boyfriend would be perfectly willing to accept a kiss from the birthday boy, especially when he was inebriated. Sure enough, she caught sight of him wrapped up in an embrace with the blonde, a wide smile on his face as Mitch and Sarah laughed hysterically at the interaction.

Harry accepted the cheek kiss, just as his eyes met hers over Niall’s shoulder.

“Y/N!” He screeched and broke the embrace. He started running over to her in an uncoordinated stride, limbs flailing and most definitely spilling alcohol on other peoples’ expensive clothes.

“Y/N!” he slurred, finally reaching her side, “Gimme a kissy!”

She laughed. “You just got kissies from Niall, honey.” “But I want your lipstick on me. Yeh wiped it off.” He frowned deeply, no—melodramatically as his hand cupped his own cheeks where the pink lipstick mark once was.

She called him a little baby but obliged anyways, stamping a firm lip shaped mark on one of his flushed cheeks. He grinned wildly in response and looked at her with that look in his eyes that she absolutely adored. He was looking at her like she was royalty, like she hung the moon and commanded the sea and granted miracles upon mere mortals such as himself.

“Wish I could give you one too…” Harry trailed off, eyes wandering around the room. “Maybe then all those hot models and waiters would leave you alone.”

“Aw, you jealous baby?”

He nodded shamelessly and, with a pouty look, tucked her into his arms. He pressed a series of hard kisses on her cheeks and temples, squeezing the silky pink fabric at her waist. The feeling made her heart squeeze in the most delightful way—chest tight and warm with…with love.

“Wanna go check out the lower deck?”

And Y/N hadn’t known this man too long, but it was long enough to know that he had anything but innocent intentions with his sweet request. She was still only nursing her third glass of bubbly, but Harry’s suggestive stare and wandering hands seemed to ignite the slight heat flowing through her veins into an inferno.

It engulfed them both as Y/N’s back hit the inside of the door to the lower deck bathroom.

Harry’s lips were soft and playful and sexy all at once—just like him. He trailed hot kisses down her cheeks and jaw much like he had earlier, only now there was no audience. No need to hold back. Only hot, sweet skin swathed in pink silk and black chiffon.

“You marked me already, ’s my turn.”

Just when she was feeling a little too sober, Harry’s words drenched her in the heat of desire. This was definitely a bad idea, but it didn’t sound like one when he put it like that.

His fingers slipped from her jaw and followed his lips down to her throat, enticing her with a gentle squeeze—a warning? Or a promise for later? Either way, this bathroom escapade was fucking sliced bread and she was putty in his hands.

He sucked harshly on the supple skin of her neck without warning. A gasp slips out of Y/N’s mouth and Harry’s ringed thumb pressed deeply into the center of her throat in reprimanding. His other fingers gripped the crook of her neck, just enough to make her head spin and keep her body pliant.

Meanwhile, his other hand slithered down the smooth silk to her waist, his hold on her heavy and warm. Harry’s swollen lips retracted from her bruised neck, not before pressing a few gentle pecks to the hickeys to soothe the pain.

Y/N felt dizzy with pleasure and enveloped in love. She couldn’t help but chase his lips for a few more desperate kisses as he pulled away from her neck. She suddenly wished she could admire the marks he’d left, but the glazed, hungry look in his eyes would definitely suffice. The little bathroom felt ten degrees warmer—leaving Harry looking hot and flushed and absolutely irresistible.

“You okay, baby?” Harry whispered in the tiny space between them, words slightly slurred and dipped in bliss.

Y/N nodded aggressively, letting her hands wrap around the back of his neck where his skin was hot and hair curled adorably. “Please kiss me again.”

He did as he was told, of course. His lips moved tenderly with hers and his hands trailed lower, gently caressing her waist and hips. His fingers started a course back up to her ass, this time taking the fabric of her dress with them.

Y/N’s head felt light as a feather, no thoughts besides Harry…Harry’s hands…Harry’s lips…Harry…

She curled her thighs around his hips and he responded effortlessly, hoisting her up by the backs of her thighs and pressing taut between the cold bathroom wall and his own hot chest. The temperature in the room seemed to rise impossibly then, the sounds of breathy moans and gentle sucking kisses seamlessly diffusing into the heat and surrounding them in a delightful symphony.

Y/N was thrilled by the way Harry’s tongue tasted like champagne—as sweet and plushy as always. She decided then that she would never get tired of the feeling of his mouth on hers, of the dizzying joyful feeling his lips gave her every single time.

“Harry…honey…”

“What ’s it pretty girl?”

The pet name in his raspy accent went straight to her core. She let out another shameless whine, squeezing his waist tighter with her legs.

“I need you, Harry…”

“Hm? Need what?”

She groaned—now he wanted to be a tease. After he’d gotten to give her the hickeys like he wanted.

“Harry, please.”

“‘M just messing, pretty girl. I know what you ne—“

Suddenly, a loud crash rang out in the little cabin. Y/N let out a screech and sprang away from Harry, landing awkwardly on her stiletto heels. Wide eyed, she and Harry both looked up toward the source of the sound. Muffled shouts followed, in the midst of a horrible shattering sound, like broken glass, or hail or—

“The ice sculpture!”

They were both wide eyed and panting and a little sweaty, hair tousled and lips swollen red.

“Oh shit,” There were more muffled shouts and some shuffling of feet above them. Even through the ornate ceiling of the bathroom, it was clear there was an ordeal going on up there.

Breathy pants lingered between them, and the room suddenly felt even smaller, even more swelteringly hot and stuffy. Of all things to ruin the heat of the moment…a fucking ice sculpture.

They looked at each other blankly, as if to say what the hell do we do now?

“Let’s head back up while everyone’s distracted.” It was Harry’s alcohol-induced idea, cooked up in his foggy brain.

“There’s no way we can go back to the party like this.” Y/N gestured between them—the sweaty foreheads, messy hair, skin dotted with hickeys, and most prominently, her boyfriend’s obvious arousal.

Harry sighed, glancing down at himself. “Let’s leave then.”

“What, you wanna swim home?”

Harry frowned, “Huh?”

“We’re on a fucking boat, dumbass.”

Harry looked away from her with wide eyes and burning cheeks. Right…Absently, he thought it was funny how she could go from making out with him against the wall of the bathroom, practically begging for more, to mercilessly making fun of him, all within seconds. His thoughts bled into his expression, a happy smile tugging on his lips as he thought about her and her unparalleled sex appeal and her cute laugh and her mock insults and her more and more.

And just like that, he was laughing. His wild laughter seemed to echo in the small bathroom. Despite their hot rendezvous being rudely interrupted, Y/N swore she could smell the happiness in the room—almost as poignant as the champagne on his breath.

Seconds later, she couldn’t help but join him in happy laughter.

Turns out, the fallen ice sculpture was even more of a hazard than they’d initially realized—so much so that the captain of the yacht demanded an early return to shore and a continuation of the party on land. Many patrons were disappointed by the early end to the yacht cruise, not including the birthday boy himself, who Y/N would be surprised if was still walking at this point.

As they sailed back toward the shore, Harry was nursing yet another flute of champagne while Y/N clung to him in the boat’s interior—half because she wanted to cover his erection from any passerbys, and half because she just really wanted to hold him. He’d also managed to produce a slice of cake on a porcelain plate, which he’d presumably snagged when he left her on the couch to find more alcohol.

“You look cute,” she mused at him while he chewed the forkful of cake she’d just slid into his mouth. She was sideways in his lap, bare feet rested on the arm of an expensive looking couch. She vaguely realized that this area of the boat was probably off limits for guests, but fuck it, she thought, no harm no foul.

“Hm?”

“I said, ‘you look cute.’” Y/N repeated. He really did look cute like that, with his face flushed and hair messy and a tinge of lipstick still lingering on his cheek.

“Oh yeah,” he mumbled with frosting still between his teeth, “I heard you the first time.”

“Oh my god, you’re so annoying. I take it back.”

“You can’t take it back!”

She gathered another forkful of cake and brought it up to his lips, “I just did.”

“Fine then,” He said, “I’ll just toss you overboard. Out of sight, out of mind.”

At that, Y/N gasped. She quickly turned her hand away and brought the cake into her own mouth, licking her lips for extra impact.

“Noooo!” He held her by the hip and dragged her even closer to him, as if she were about to get up and actually go overboard and take the cake with her. “I’m sorry baby, you’re cute, too. So cute. Like, so cute that I can’t believe you like me.”

Like? I think I more than like you.

“I can’t believe it, either.”

The words were on the tip of her tongue, dancing around in the tiny space between their lips like electricity. Harry leaned forward and kissed her tenderly, sucking on her bottom lip as if trying to pull them out of her.

Yet again, they were interrupted. This time by a loud horn blare and the captain’s voice over the intercom. “Land, ho!”

“Finally.” Harry sighed in relief, already trying to stand up from the couch, “Can you take me home now, please.”

“We can’t just leave when the party’s still going! What about Niall?” Y/N pressed her hands against his chest to slow him down.

“Niall won’t remember a damn thing.”

She considered his words. He wasn’t wrong; Niall had already knocked over the ice sculpture, after all.

“Take a left here,”

“Here?”

“Ye—wait, no.” Harry slurred, shaking his head from the passenger seat.

But his girlfriend had already turned the wheel to the left, inevitably sending the car in the wrong direction, again.

“Shit, M’ sorry baby.” he said with a drunken giggle.

“Good lord Harry…”

She threw the car into a random driveway, grumbling as she executed a clumsy K-turn.

She could hear the cranky frown in Harry’s voice as he groaned, “You’re a shit driver.”

“Well you’re a shit navigator!” Y/N looked over and gave him a pointed look. But the look only fell on his droopy, half-open eyes. “Where the fuck do I go?”

A beat of silence passed as Harry’s head lolled around. He hummed a bit, imitating the low rumble of the car’s engine. Finally, he murmured, “Keep goin’ straight.”

“Are you sure?”

He didn’t reply, just turned to look at her with that mischievous drunken smile.

“Aw fuck, no. We passed it up.”

“Harry!” She couldn’t help but laugh. Despite her annoyance, his antics were amusing. “Are you sure you actually know where you live?”

“Of course I know where I live!”

Y/N sped into another middle-of-the-road U-turn, and Harry dramatically fell into her lap with a low yell.

“Slow down, you minx! Gonna get us killed!”

“You’re so dramatic, Harry. If you’d just tell me where the fuck you live!”

“Can’t remember.”

She craned her head up to ceiling, letting her own eyes fall shut as she inhaled her frustration.

“Okay, fine. It’s that blue one over there.” He gestured vaguely to the right, but it was too dark to see the colors of the houses anyways.

Y/N let out her deep breath, “Somehow I don’t believe you.”

His growing smirk gave him away. After only a few seconds, his foggy brain would not allow him to contain his giggles.

“Harry!” she whined. He was always kind of silly and clingy, but the excessive alcohol made him an actual baby. He was still laying in her lap over the center console.

“Why are you like this?”

He pouted, feigning hurt. “Maybe I just wanna spend more time with you.”

Y/N’s fingers loosed on the wheel. She slowed the car to a stop against on of the curbs in the quiet neighborhood, poised under the soft light of a street lamp. Her annoyed expression softened and the familiar urge washed over her—the urge to kiss his cheeks and tell him she loved him and squeeze him tight and never let him go. How could one person be so annoying yet so fucking adorable?

She pushed his hair back (not without thinking about how he would’ve scolded her for messing it up at the beginning of the night when he had been sober, but now he was far too drunk to care) and wrapped an arm around his neck. It was definitely an awkward position and Harry couldn’t have been comfortable like that, but he didn’t seem to mind. He held her arm in both hands and snuggled into her lap as she cooed at him. “Aw, baby. You could’ve just told me.”

“But we’ve only been together for a little bit…and I don’t want ya to get sick of me.”

“Could never get sick of you, honey. Not even if I wanted to,” she said earnestly, continuing to stroke her fingers gently through his curls.

“Really?”

Now if that wasn’t a hint…this man was even stupider than she thought. In spite of his endearing idiocy, Y/N still could not resist the urge to just love him.

The idea that he could possibly love her back crossed her mind several times, especially in the past few weeks.

But they’d only been officially for a month and a half…was it too soon? Would she scare him off? Was there some unwritten rule of love to wait until they’d at least seen each others’ homes? Although, if she did tell him now, Harry was so drunk he may not even remember. If it went horrifically wrong, maybe she could forget it happened. (No, she definitely would not ever be able to forget if that happened, but the lie comforted her a little nonetheless). But if it went well, she’d be more confident telling him again when he was sober tomorrow. And at last, she didn’t even think she could hold the words in for another second while he was cuddling into her and kissing her arms like a baby kitten.

“I love you, Harry.”

“You do?!”

Suddenly, he seemed alarmingly sober.

“Ugh, yes. How could I not?”

He looked appalled, really. As if the idea of her loving him was absolutely insane. “Well, I annoy you, I kiss you in public, I drink too much, I spend way too much time on my hair, I’m not as handsome as that waiter…”

“And you’re pretty stupid.” Y/N interrupted with her own addition to the growing list.

“Yeah, you’re right. I am pretty dumb…But,” he paused, flipping over in her lap to look her in the eyes, “I did get one thing right.”

“What’s that?” She asked, fondly stroking his gelled hair with trembling hands.

“Falling in love with you.”

And loving him was that easy, as easy as sipping champagne and eating cake and falling overboard. She loved his flamboyance, his confidence, his kindness. She loved his silly tattoos and his bunny teeth and the little scar under his chin and the faint lipstick stain on his cheek. She loved the way they teased each other like children. She loved the way his mouth felt against hers. She loved the way he adored her. And so, she couldn’t help but smile wide.

“Alright, let’s add you’re super cheesy to that list, too…”

thanks for reading! please reblog if you enjoyed <3

feedback is welcomed, encouraged, and highly appreciated!

[tigerdrop]

Cringe is dead, talk to me about the funny half-life men and their relationship

okay here is my essay. it is titled These Guys Actually Like Each Other, and Gordon Freeman Is Just Kind Of A Dick*

(disclaimer: these are just my 2 cents. dont take me too seriously! im just some guy online who has watched this shit too many times.)

first things first. these guys actually like each other. this is a key aspect of their relationship. benrey, obviously and textually, digs gordon freeman - you dont flirt that heavily with guys you arent into, and so much of what he says and does is geared around making gordon crack up. thats pretty gay.

but the counterpart to this is that gordon freemans pretty fucking gay for benrey, too. you may say, “oh, but word of god says its not requited!” and to you i will say: bull shit. gordon is uniquely obsessed with benrey compared to all the other characters. if gordon didnt like the fucking guy, he wouldnt giggle with him and share in-jokes with him and bring him up every 5 seconds when benreys not around. thats concern, bro. thats worry. thats real shit

but i cant blame people for thinking that gordon freeman genuinely doesnt like benrey. benreys partially responsible for some of the worst things that have happened to him, the Arm Thing among them. and gordons very insistent afterward that he doesnt like benrey. he even goes so far as to try to kill benrey a couple times. to this, i must argue that gordon freeman is just kind of a dick.

lets talk facts here. canon. Lore. from the moment we hop into gordons shoes, we can see that he is a jerk to every npc on his way into black mesa. this is his default: a dude who just runs his mouth and says rude shit. he calls tommy a freak within 5 minutes of meeting him. he infantilizes the guy and barely considers him a real scientist. he doubts that bubby is a real name for like no fuckin reason. in “real life”, this is because its funny, and wayne is trying to make a funny half-life stream. in a textual sense, this is because gordon “hlvrai” freeman is a dick. this is the way he acts, consistently, throughout the series.

(brief aside: this is why the whole “gordon is a nice guy and a great dad” characterization baffles me. the way he actually acts in canon is, in short, bitchy and lacking in self-awareness. and i love that for him, i really do. it makes the moments where he just tries to be a nice guy stand out. but thats the thing: his intermittent moments of decency and kindness are not the whole of his personality! this dude kind of sucks most of the time!)

the way that gordons general asshole attitude extends to benrey is complicated. in fairness, benrey makes it his job to annoy the shit out of gordon as much as possible, and that warrants a negative attitude, but gordons pretty paranoid and ends up blaming benrey for nearly everything that happens to him, regardless of if its warranted. this is a pattern he exhibits both before and after the Arm Thing. its a little bit of a dick move! especially considering that, prior to the whole “betrayal” subplot (which was not exactly planned very far in advance), benrey is no more malicious or annoying than anybody else gordons having to travel with.

(okay, this is kind of a subjective evaluation, but still. my point stands that benrey is not any more of a hindrance to his progress than anybody else in the science crew, and neither is he particularly more violent or murderous. hell, gordon freeman has probably killed more guys than benrey. benrey just tends to get.......special treatment.)

all that said, i am still convinced that gordon really fucking likes benrey. please consider with me the following: it would be remarkably easy for gordon to just ignore him and do what he has to do, but he doesnt. he could stop engaging. he could stop thinking about benrey. he could stop bringing benrey up to the rest of the crew every time benrey leaves to do his own thing for awhile. but he doesnt. and, again, yeah, the extra-textual reason for this is “two guys are doing an improv comedy thing and bouncing off of scorpy is kind of the point”, but within the text it reads to me as gordon not being about to get the dude off his mind.

and this is in addition to all the times we see gordon being genuinely nice and receptive toward benrey! its in the little things: laughing the hardest and longest at benreys jokes. only ever reciprocating that stupid underwater “BBBBB” thing with benrey. trying to catch benrey when he falls, despite his insistence moments earlier that benrey should hop in the wack ass crystal generator and get hypermurdered. fondly remarking that benreys sweet voice sounds beautiful. his sort of flustered responses to most of benreys overt flirting. none of this is the way normal people react to a guy they hate. this is all fuckin gay to me, man.

its this combination of the outward insistence that gordon hates benrey with his inner eagerness to be around him and think about him and engage with him that gives off strong “repression” vibes, to me. for whatever reason - pride, embarrassment, resentment - gordon maintains a front of hating the guy and wanting to kill him for a lot of the series, but it doesnt gel with the way he fucking giggles and plays along half the time that benrey starts fucking with him. its a game, and that game is one of the only ways gordon knows to manifest affection for him.

(remember “oh my god, hes got a knife!”? that was the gayest shit i ever seen in my life. tittering like a schoolgirl while benrey chases him around like “im gonna get you haha”. insanity.)

the cool thing about repression is that you can have it manifest in a lot of ways! and this is where things like “headcanons” and “my own personal affection for repressed bisexual men” come in. a lot of how i characterize their relationship is an extrapolation of a lot of things like gordons canonical insecurity issues/anxiety, gordons whole anti-bootboy thing screaming “internet wokeboy who means well but probably has a lot of repressed baggage” to me, etc.

how do you get massive amounts of sexual repression out of what you see in canon, you might ask? well. if wayne would stop having gordon talking about being jerked off by the suit, or talking about chugging a 40-gal drum of potion and having to hold his piss, or worrying about being eaten by benrey the moment he sees benrey at setscale 10, maybe i would have a higher opinion of gordon “hlvrai” freeman and whatever latent psychosexual issues hes got going on. but here we are

i havent even touched yet upon how benrey feels about gordon. this one is helpfully made a little more plain by the fact that benrey very much wants to suck his dick in canon. (i dont even have to go into details. we all know.) but IMO the best part about this ship isnt just that they dig each other, but how. benrey gets overtly flirtatious in the second half of the series, but IMO his preferred method of flirting is just fucking with gordon: chasing him with knives, shoving him around in a bathroom, trying to get scans of his feet. but all in like a slapstick, giggly, fun-and-games sense, you know? at least when it works.

a lot of the time, though, it doesnt work out that way. he clearly just likes doing it whether or not gordon responds positively. which is, you know, Weird. not very nice. but also in line with the way everybody else treats gordon freeman. gordons kind of the universes chew toy in any given universe, and the same holds true here. hes kind of helpless......subjected to 4 demons attempting to make his life as difficult as possible. in a way its cathartic.

sorry. i got sidetracked. anyway, benrey very much likes to mess with him and unnerve him and demean him and i will be perfectly frank with you: that is hot. i have problems and illnesses and one of them is that i am a masochist who goes crazy for that kind of thing. calling gordon a “dirty lil boy” and telling him to “look at the mess [he] made” is some straight up kink scene shit.

i like to imagine that a lot of this behavior isnt caused just by the guy who played him wanting to be funny and antagonistic, but by benrey as a character not really understanding what constitutes “pushing a joke too far”. hes not human, and whatever he is doesnt have a very normative way of understanding the world around him, full of people who actually get hurt for real and die for real. benrey expresses what seems to be genuine surprise and distress after the Arm Thing, as if he didnt know that his actions would have serious consequences. and it doesnt seem to fully sink in afterward, either.

it reads a lot to me like hes used to video game rules and treating people around him like NPCs. if they get hurt, its no big deal, because its not real. he likes jamming random buttons on gordons interface and seeing what comes out. its probably a lot of fun for him, the same way that seeing a streamer or a youtuber suffer for our amusement is fun. its like, you know, in my opinion, gordons very cute when hes frazzled. hes also cute when hes laughing. pushing gordons buttons has a 50/50 chance of either of these things. and this is how he ultimately flirts with gordon: by pulling his pigtails.

but at the same time, benrey does legit care about gordon and knows some boundaries. benreys the one most often shooting at enemies to protect gordon, and he spent most of the last act trying to convince gordon to turn around and not fight him because they were friends (best friends, to be specific). he just lacks a lot of the emotional intelligence it would take to express the feeling of “he digs gordon and likes seeing his face get all red and sweaty regardless of the cause”. and gordon lacks the emotional intelligence it would take to express the fact that he doesnt know if he likes or hates benrey and hes scared as hell that its the former

because, lets be real. unironic benrey-liking is a sign of problems disorder. just look at all these words ive written about it.

can you imagine? this bizarrely powerful, non-human entity that can shrug off gunfire and grow to the size of a building has decided that youre his new plaything. benreys the bored guy booting up skyrim and fucking around in the console, and gordons the hapless favorite follower that hes taken a liking to. its a really fun dynamic IMO

after all this, its safe to say my title is a little misleading. the asterisk stands for * and So Is Benrey, Actually. they are both kind of awful dudes who thrive off of teasing each other and they deserve each other. and i am crazy about it. thank u for coming to my TED talk

[eldritch-elrics]

svsss: journey through the mausoleum (plus, zhuzhi-lang is a himbo)

got to chapter 65 last night!

as usually i have a lot to say i guess jkdhgsds i think putting stuff under cuts makes people scroll past these posts more? but also i don’t really want to be too annoying with my Many Reactions so cuts are a good way to go

tldr: loved the mausoleum arc, big fan of tlj, communication is good, and i have a new favorite scene in the book

binghe is extra as FUCK for bringing in all those rhino pythons

so i maintain that tianlang-jun should have been foreshadowed more/is introduced too late in the story, but other than that i think he’s a really fun villain and i’m a fan

for one - he’s the only one who’s able to hurt binghe :0 harm the protagonist...

which creates some Very Good Tension

count number one of zhuzhi-lang being a himbo: trying to sacrifice himself for tlj while being threatened

“is zzl really a himbo” you ask. well, yes. is he dumb? very much so. is he nice? absolutely. is he hot? well, i have no idea. i forget if he’s described as attractive or not. but, i think he can be if he wants. does being a little bit evil negate his himbo-ness? idk! i’m sticking with my assessment

i think i have a bit of a soft spot for evil henchmen

zzl also protects sqq from the corpses <3 good for him

it’s always fun to me when the system is like “wooo yay you fixed the storyline! cut the filler!” because 1. love seeing sqq lay waste to pidw and 2. the implications?? once more i am wondering WHY is the system so interested in making pidw a better story. (and the fact that it’s still calling his adventures in this world a story.) are sqq’s adventures being written down and serialized in the real world? are we as readers supposed to believe that scum villain, as a text, is a direct result of sqq’s “editing” of pidw?

uh, back to the plot

binghe wasted spiritual energy trying to preserve the mushroom/plant body :( come on man...

i really like the whole stretch of plot when binghe’s unconscious. it’s just so tense!! really well-done in my opinion - this is the first time in a while we’ve got a sense that lbh is in danger, and sqq is also running low on energy and stuff, so they’re both in bad places and the stakes are high

PLUS the hurt-comfort of it all. sqq trying not to hurt lbh’s body :(

the whole part in the coffin!! excellent. and the convo with meng mo... sqq calling himself lbh’s shizun finally...

cuddles <3

dying at lbh’s fuckin. boner. and the system’s REACTION it’s so EXCITED i am just. holds my head in my hands. i can’t deal with this novel

the confrontation with qiu haitang and the old palace master was very cool and intense. though i have to say i’m not really a fan of either “angry unreasonable woman” or “bitter disabled person” as tropes/archtypes (especially how sqq was reacting to the palace master’s condition). and poor qiu haitang! i have no idea if there’s any way to set her mind at ease other than revealing the whole transmigration thing. i do hope she’ll turn up again and get a better ending?

so the plague city sqq callout party is once again not directly lbh’s fault! the old palace master is the one to blame!

SO ONE OF MY FAVORITE PARTS IN THE BIT I READ LAST NIGHT. is. sqq realizing that he could utilize lbh’s plot armor to his advantage. but then deciding that he doesn’t want to take that risk. doesn’t want to use lbh’s body as a prop!!!

character development :D

he’s really starting to see lbh as a person as opposed to a character! and being less selfish/survival-oriented...

man. sqq, almost beaten, lying on the ground holding binghe in his arms........ :(((

so is the implication that lbh injured/took revenge on the old palace master because the palace master was being creepy to him about his mom? it’s a bit vague but that’s my theory. weirdo old man...

speaking of people lbh killed. maybe it will be revealed that gongyi xiao is actually alive too :( i’m still salty about that

SO MUCH DEMON BLOOD. poor sqq

so i don’t think i got how sqq was able to free himself from zzl’s blood manipulation? was it because binghe woke up and subdued it?

binghe waking up was a lil deus-ex-machina-y lol i would have liked to see some sort of trigger for it (even a cheesy one). like i get why he’s ok and no longer hurt (protagonist powers!) but like, gimme a reason for the shift to happen at that precise moment...

but AAAAAA FINALLY THEY ARE TALKING

lbh realizes how much sqq went through to save him :( and he’s so happy he didn’t get abandoned!!!! aaaaaa my poor boy

i like crybaby lbh much more than i like cold/cruel lbh lol

i do agree with sqq’s assessment though - lbh keeps doing the thing where he cries and apologizes but doesn’t actually change. he’s slowly getting better about it but that’s some development i’d like to see

so tlj.... DOESN’T want lbh’s body? i stg his motivations change every 5 minutes. that’s one other thing i don’t really like about him. is the “trying to steal lbh’s body” thing just gonna go nowhere? f...

ALSO SQQ GETTING OUTRAGED ABOUT TLJ CALLING HIMSELF MORE HANDSOME THAN BINGHE

binghe dumbass moments <3 gave him the sword...

..........zhuzhi-lang vore.......

zzl, while healing sqq’s plant arm: don’t worry i don’t want to fuck you unlike LUO BINGHE.

sqq: OKAY??? THANKS

i really hope there exists shipfic of sqq and zzl. like i don’t ship them at all but they just get into so many Situations that i cannot help but think about it. like it would make a funny crack premise

you know what? sqq deserves his own harem. it could consist of lbh, lqg, sqh, zzl.....

SQQ CANNOT CATCH A BREAK. TLJ IS A FAN OF RESENTMENT OF CHUNSHAN

modern au tlj is the dad who is way way way too supportive and thinks sqq would just be a wonderful husband for his son~~

interested in tlj’s intention to unite the human and demon worlds. like on the surface it sounds like a good idea right? peace and harmony and reconciling differences and stuff. but tlj’s plan is certainly not well-thought-out, and i’m sure his intentions also skew towards a sort of “merge them so they’re both easier to rule over” thing - which i don’t think is confirmed or anything, it’s just my suspicion

both tlj and lbh have a sort of entitlement thing going on - “i’m powerful so i can do whatever i like / take for myself something i love (whether that be humans or sqq).” which is then backed up by the power the system allows them as final boss and protagonist respectfully

speaking of lbh taking whatever he wants: stop kissing sqq without asking him aaaaa!!!! we know you love him and it’s sweet but please bro

him going all that way to reunite with sqq though <3

and then zzl comes in and i just.

this scene is simply the best

the slapstick of it!!!! i wanna see it animated so bad holy shit

the scene was good when it was just “sqq hides lbh under the bedcovers and he’s having none of it” but then it just kept escalating...

sqq and zzl’s convo is so suggestive too...

zzl himbo moments again?

AND THEN TLJ WALKS IN

“no need to explain, i understand everything” OK BRO.

LIU QINGGE IS HERE <3

tlj fanboying over him a little lmao

tlj, upon realizing that lbh had been in the bed with zzl and sqq: oh, you guys were having a threesome?

i cannot deal with this. i’m gonna do some sketches from this scene it’s so funny

[cassyapper]

Apart from Jotaro and Kakyoin (unfortunately) what are your other favourite jojo ships? I’d love to know

OHHHH POST YOUVE OPENED A CAN OF FUCKING WORMS LET ME GO OFF

i have a disease that makes me invested in the joestars’ happiness to an absurd level so bc of that a lot of ships i enjoy involve,,,one joestar,,,but there r others i swear let me just start rantingi

jonaeriwagon is soooooo so so cute it involves the most wholesome and purehearted jojo characters and it makes me smile so wide. erina and jonathan r childhood sweethearts and erina helped jonathan back on his feet after he lost EVERYTHING in the first fight against dio at the mansion. jonathan and speedwagon are best FRIENDS OKAY!! SPEEDWAGON LITERALLY CHANGES HIS ENTIRE WALK OF LIFE BECAUSE OF JONATHAN AND THE KINDNESS HE SHOWED HIM. i know erina and speedwagon didn't interact a whole lot in part 1 but like they're BEST. FRIENDS. in part 2, so much so joseph thought something was going on between them. i bring this up bc then it’s proof that this ship is full of ppl who just care for each other so much. they just adore each other and love each other and I'm crying

caejoseq is my FAVVV OKAY they're so stupid and in love. i love love love love imagining caesar and suziq falling in love slowly when he’s first training as lisalisa’s student and like they never do anything about it cause they're both so shy (yes caesar is shy bc these feelings r more genuine romance rather than sexual, unlike his other flings) but it’s obvious enough they both understand to a degree the other knows they like them sjkd;dn cuties. but then JOSEPH BARGES IN with his stupid hamon-breathing mask and his stupid blue-green eyes and his stupid lax personality combined with the moments he takes thing seriously during which is works hard as fuck/smart as fuck. he just completely sweeps them off their feet they had no fuckin warning whatsoever. so after a bunch of messy and intense pining from the both of them they eventually sit down and are like okay. we should do smth about feelings actually. so they Do and it ends with the polycule and I'm (”: smiling so wide they loved each other do u understand

AVPOL!! DO NOT GET ME STARTED OKAY it’s the survivor’s guilt and cherishing and longing for me sis!!!!!! I'm just saying both have pasts (araki said avdol’s backstory was so sad he didn't wanna put it into sdc so that’s where I'm drawing this from) that leave them focused on things other than their direct happiness/their own futures but then they connect and even though they're so fucking different they are SOOO different they're still the same on this level and i think!!! that would be everything for them finally someone who understands...listen I'm ging to go insane do you hear me. avdol loves this stupid fucking Frenchman so much because said stupid fucking Frenchman just cares so much about everything. meanwhile polnareff is in love with this fuckin god of a man who’s patient and kind and funny and a skilled enough fighter it’s stated explicitly in canon “oh avdol’s the one we need to worry about most not jotaro” like fuck polnareff is ENAMOURED WITH HIM!! AND I DONT FUCKING BLAME HIM!! and just dude. when pol thinks avdol came back to life and he starts crying tears of joy and hugs him so tightly and avdol just laughs but hugs him back imfmfjfj help. help. help. help. help. POLNAREFF LITERALLY ASKS HIM OUT ON A DATE THIS IS FUCKIN!!! CANON!!! i cant do this stupid fuckign idiots i love them

JOSUYASU!!!!!! TWO GUYS BEIGN DUDES WHAT MORE COULD YOU WANT??? like listen we have such a SLEW of wholesome moments between these two the opening to the tonio episode is literally just them going on a date OKUYASU WAS GONNA FEED JOSUKE AND JOSUKE DIDNT EVEN FUCKING QUESTION IT OKAY THAT’S KINDA GAY THAT HAS ROMANTIC FUCKING UNDERTONES!! and them fighting against shigechi idk man i just love their dynamic it’s such a pleasant bro relationship and i love them. but even beyond the wholesome moments when okuyasu fucking dies josuke loses his SHIT!!! DO YOU HEAR ME HE GOES FUCKIGN INSANE!!!!! HE’S SCREAMING AND CRYING AND BEGGING OKUYASU TO WAKE UP AT THE EXPENSE OF HIS LIFE FUCKIGN HAYATO HAD TO SHRIEK AT HIM TO MOVE HIS ASS OUT OF THE WAY OF KIRA’S BOMB LIKE!! listen the recklessness and furiousness of josuke’s tactics after okuyasu “”died”” haunts me. he didn't want to live in a world without him and meanwhile okuyaus LITERALLY TRIUMPHS OVER DEATH BECAUSE HE DOESNT WANT TO LEAVE JOSUKE’S SIDE HELP ME GIRL FJKF;NDJN FUCK. fuck. so yeah i lvoe them

fugionara... any combination of this ship makes me go nuts okay okay. the dynamics in the bucci gang will forever leave me in tatters but THE ONES BETWEEN THESE THREE IN PARTICULAR. FUCK ME UP. it’s the healing it’s the animosity it’s the regret it’s the trying to figure out your own mentally ill self while also the world ur in with these ppl u love so much and I'm going crazy okay okay okay. idk how to quite put my feelings for them in worlds i just have a lot of them and they are fuckin. overhwelming. just narancia for example meant EVERYTHING to fugo as evidence by purple haze feedback (literally every other paragraph is a flashback) and the only time giorno cries in the anime is when narancia dies. meanwhile fugo saved narancia’s life and giorno knew when to take narancia seriously as opposed to a joke. and then THE WHOLE DISCUSSION ABOUT GRIEF FUGO AND GIORNO HAVE IN PURPLE HAZE FEEDBACK? listen something about these three make me go insane and feral

foolymes like okay. okay. I'm shaking like a dog trying not to go overboard on this justification just listen to me. hermes and jolyne first find someone to trust in prison in each other. jolyne cares abt her enough that she first learns how to use stone free’s string-on-a-telephone ability bc she wanted to watch over hermes. hermes loves nd respects jolyne that after she wakes up from getting a stand shes like “hm. wonder where jolyne is” and goes to find her before all that bullshit happened just hey okay LISTEN TO ME!! and then they get foo they save her it’s just like fucking kakyoin they give her another chance and they show her what relationships are supposed to be like (fulfilling) they enjoy her company and make her laugh and she makes them laugh in return ohmy god EVERYTHING FOO FIGHTERS DID WAS FOR JOLYNE AND HERMES DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME!!! the marilyn mansion debt collector arc. the kiss of love and revenge arc. foo fighter’s death. I'm going to eat rocks in an attempt to stop feeling oh my god JOLYNE DIDNT EVEN BELEIVE FOO FIGHTERS WAS DYING AND THEN SHE GOT HYSTERICAL LIKE “BUT WE CAN JUST REMAKE YOU RIGHT WE HAVE YOUR STAND DISC??” SHE DOESNT WANT HER TO GOOO HELP ME HELP ME. I'm in tatters these three girls loved each other so fucking much they just wanted each other safe and they DESERVED to be safe and happy together but araki is fucking evil

jotaweather I KNOW THIS IS A CRACK SHIP I KNOW I KNOW I KNOW DONT FUCKIGN LOOK AT ME JUST HEAR ME OUT. jotaro and weather r both of similar demeanor that is quiet soft-speaking intimidating strong big aura of sadness coming from them. both have powerful stands and both had real fucked up luck in the love department. i also hc both to be autistic so that’d be another similarity. i jus think them settling down together after everything went down in a stone ocean au would be very soft and sweet yknow? they wouldn't even necessarily start it off in a romantic sense but they just take the time to try and heal with each other and eventually it just kinda veers that way. yeah

gyjo for OBVIOUS reasons like are you serious? gyro changed johnny’s fucking lfie from the SECOND they first interact johnny begins to push himself and tries to reach further/go further. and in turn johnny shows gyro you cant always be a wet blanket you need to take a stand this both helps his resolve to save the kid AND helps him to take the measures necessary to get to his goal. like gyro would not have been able to find johnny in the “who shot johnny joestar?” arc if he hadn't gone through, say, the ring roadagain arc with johnny first. listen man their relationship is literally the catalyst for this whole part it’s the driving force i just. they love each other they love each other thank you goodnight I'm emo

yasugap is just so so so so sweet it makes me so happy,,like okay josuk8 literally has a daydream where all that happens is he gives yasuho some candy and she eats it and is like “aw josuke this is so good thanks!” and she smiles at him and that’s IT THAT’S THE DAYDREAM 😭 listen they just love each other so much and i am emo. they literally SAVED EACH OTHER OKAY LIKE yasuho pulls him from the dirt and like she mentioned during the flashback chapter with the hairpin and her dad, it was also the other way around....saving josuke also saved herself and just LISTEN TO ME. THEY LOVE EACH OTHER. it’s a very sweet and healthy relationship and i hope to god araki makes it canon please sir ill bite you

anyway yeah these are the main main ones ? that i ship ship. like you'll get me excited if u mention them. anyway this post has gone on long enough so I'm gonna end it here by saying i really do have a thing where the relationship focuses on healing/helping one or both parties to save/improve themselves

[thetriggeredhappy]

sniperscout week day 2 ft. trying to format and play among us at the same time

Day 2: Meet Cute

@sniperscout-ship-week

The Sniper looked up as the doors swung open, a gaggle of people moving through them, some towards waiting cars, some towards the parking lot, some towards the line of taxis waiting outside. He scanned the crowd, trying to spot any of the distinguishing features he’d been told about, sifting through the visual of various men in suits and women in skirts and dresses and elderly folks and small families until finally his eyes landed on one sole man, standing with his back straight and his eyes nearly shielded entirely from view by a baseball cap emblazoned with the logo of some American sports team or another. Baseball, maybe?

He scanned the line of cars, sweeping back and forth a few times, until that pair of narrowed eyes finally swept far enough to one side to land on him. A blink, a visible brightening of his posture as the kid gave him a brief up-and-down, a goofy grin.

And damn, kid really was the word to describe him. He looked like he could be in his late teens, practically, even though gossip around base was that their newest teammate was somewhere in his mid-twenties. And he wasn’t particularly muscular, at least not from what Sniper could tell, and the way he moved as he walked over was so casual, nothing like the walk of their standard hired killer. No glances over his shoulder, clearly not strapped, probably not even carrying a knife, just walking straight up to him.

“Yo, uh,” he opened with, and his tone was easygoing enough, voice louder than expected, “are you uh, that guy that Miss... Pauling, right? That Miss Pauling sent?”

He looked at the kid. “Just get in the van,” he said flatly, and stood up to move around to the driver’s side.

By the time he opened his door, the kid had just popped open his own, looked a little nervous. He was tapping a little rhythm into the door with his fingers. “Uh, pretty sure I heard somethin’ in school about not gettin’ in random dudes’ vans, at least once or twice,” he half-joked, glancing around the inside of the van. “Especially dudes who might, y’know, maybe be armed.”

“I’m definitely armed,” Sniper deadpanned, buckling his seatbelt. “I’m also the one driving you to the base. Now get in the van.”

Somewhere between him sticking the keys in the ignition and checking his left mirror, the kid got in the car, buckled his seatbelt, deposited his bag at his feet, and kicked his feet up onto the dash. He was working on rolling the window down by the time Sniper glanced over the check the right mirror, tapping a rhythm into his own leg now. Quicker than he’d expected. He took mental note of that fact. “So, uh,” the kid said, leaning to look back out the window towards the doors of the airport, “is that Pauling lady not gonna show up? She driving separate?”

“She’s at the base,” Sniper said, trying to figure o it what accent the kid had as he pulled out of the line of cars. East Coast, he knew. What was that city called?

“Okay. So are you one of those dudes I’m supposed to be workin’ with? Because she kinda mentioned that I’m gonna be on like a team with people but she didn’t name any names and she said she’s not on that team, so are you one of those guys or are you just kind of a paper-pusher too? Or do you drive full time maybe? Weird that they’d give you a freakin’ camper-van for that, like, what if you gotta drive a couple people at once, you could get maybe two other people in here, or is this not a camper-van? Is it like, weapons and shit in the back? That’d be pretty sweet—“

“Sniper,” he cut in.

“Huh?”

“I’m the Sniper. On the team,” Sniper said, still mentally trying to catch up with what all the kid was saying. “We’ve all got titles. Don’t use real names. Got yours yet?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m uh—“ He stopped to fish through his bag, coming up with some half-crumpled papers, squinted at them. “Uhhh, the uh... Renconin—no, uh, Reconescent and—and Scouting Specialize—uh, Specialite—no, wait—okay, y’know what? Scout. I’m the Scout.”

He wondered, brow furrowing, if the paper was too crumpled to read, or if the jostling of the van was throwing him off, or if the Scout just couldn’t read. “Awright. Scout it is,” he shrugged.

“Hell yeah,” he said cheerfully, sifting back comfortably in the seat again, tossing the papers back down with his bag.

The question was burning a hole through his tongue. “How old are you, exactly?”

“Twenty-three,” he said, and out of the corner of his eye Sniper could see that he was making a face. “And yeah, yeah, I know, look way younger than that, whatever, but it’s totally true. Practically twenty-four, even! Birthday’s only two months out.”

He side-eyed the man, but decided to drop it. Apparently, the Scout didn’t.

“What about you, huh?” he prodded. “Probably like thirty-five, right? Forty?”

“Late twenties,” he said dryly, not particularly wanting to get specific.

“You’re kiddin’!” He leaned over the gearshift to elbow him in the upper arm, and Sniper tensed up at it. “Hey, it’ll be nice havin’ a younger guy around, huh?”

Sniper stared out the windshield and didn’t make eye contact.

“So what’re the rest of the guys like? They cool?” he prodded further.

“We get there in half an hour, you’ll meet them yourself.”

“Yeah, but it’d be nice to know what to expect, y’know?” The kid started fishing through his bag for something. “Any of ‘em Australian like you?”

“No,” Sniper said, voice flat. He paused for a second. “Few Americans, few Europeans, a Russian, one person who we aren’t sure about. Think they’re all at least mid-thirties, oldest nearly fifty. And none of them would be this patient with your bloody badgering, so I’d recommend being a little quieter once we get there. Already I’m about three questions away from leaving you on the side of the road with a map and making you walk.”

The Scout laughed, as if he was joking, and leaned forward to fiddle with the radio, eventually finding a station that was playing music and cracking the tab on the can of soda he’d apparently had in his bag. It was mostly quiet the remainder of the drive.

-

“Badgering, you said.”

“Did not,” Sniper mumbled.

“You absolutely did!”

Scout managed to roll over onto his front without elbowing Sniper in any soft tissues, the tiny camper-van bed making any maneuvering at all a bit of a challenge, looking up at him with that goofy grin he’d become so familiar with.

“Still annoyed about my badgering?” Scout chirped.

“What do you think?” Sniper drawled, fighting to hide the little upwards tick of the corner of his mouth that always gave him away. From the little huff of a laugh that Scout gave, apparently he didn’t quite manage it.

“What was your deal, anyways?” Scout asked, shifting a little to get more comfortable. “Like, even knowin’ you a little better now I’m pretty sure you had to be in a pretty bad mood that day.”

Sniper exhaled, trying to stretch his memory back that far. It had been a few years by then, and admittedly, his memory was a little fuzzy. “Wasn’t exactly thrilled about the growing trend of me being the team driver,” he said, reasonably sure that was accurate. “Especially such a long drive.”

“Would’ve been a shorter drive if you’d gone over the speed limit,” Scout mumbled.

Sniper shot him a look, albeit with an undercurrent of amusement. “We’re not having this argument again,” he deadpanned.

“No, for sure we’re not. It’s just funny is all that you still use your turn signal in the middle of the open freakin’ desert with no other cars around—“

“Awright, if you’re gonna get on my case for being a safe driver—“

“We’re mercenaries, Snipes, Jesus Christ, what’re they gonna do, pull you over? Are one of the dozens of cops that don’t fuckin’ exist out here gonna pull you over? It’s so ridiculous, why wouldn’t you just speed up—“

Sniper leaned in and cut him off with a firm kiss on the lips, and the second Scout processed it he was leaning into it, argument almost instantly forgotten in lieu of trying to get an arm up over Sniper’s shoulders. When they parted again, a few seconds later, Scout’s grin said that he’d effectively forgotten what they were just talking about.

Or he’d figured, anyways. Because after a few seconds of looking at each other, Scout spoke. “Badgering, you said.”

Sniper picked up the pillow from behind his head and shoved it in Scout’s face, making him squawk in indignance, and tried his damndest not to smile. Unfortunately, that trick hadn’t worked for quite some time.

[eryiss]

Chapter Two - The Handyman

Summary: Freed and Laxus live incredibly different lives. Freed is a corporate lawyer in the capital city, and Laxus works as a handyman in a countryside hotel. Despite their differences, their lives collide when Freed inherits a house in Laxus’ village, and hires him to make the derelict building liveable. But the closer they get, the more they seem to offer each other. [Fraxus Multi-Chapter]

This was written as my admission for Fraxus Day 2020, hosted by @fuckyeahfraxus​. This is the second chapter, and from now on it’ll be updated weekly. Hope you enjoy it.

You can read this under the cut, on Fanfiction, or on Archive of Our Own. You can find the chapter masterpost here.

Chapter Two – The Handyman

"Fucks sake. Fucking bitch."

"That's not the way to talk to a lady, Laxus. Damn."

"I ain't talkin' to a lady, I'm talking to this piece of shit."

With an angered huff, Laxus slammed down the screwdriver and allowed it to clatter against the small tray of tools. On the table was the industrial toaster that Laxus had been attempting to fix for the better half of the morning, with an only slightly warm piece of bread resting pitifully on the wire rack, practically mocking Laxus with its lack of any toast-like qualities. It was the sixth time that year that the machine had decided to work, and Laxus had grown to have a vendetta against the fucking thing.

But he wasn't going to let it win. He had singlehandedly fixed practically every electric device in Fairy Tail since becoming the handyman, and he would be damned if the fucking toaster was his downfall. He'd conquered faulty boilers, crappy wiring and, on one condition, a disgusting issue with sewage backup over the past year alone. A toaster was nothing.

"Just make your grandad buy a new one," Cana laughed as she walked further into the hotel's breakroom. "It's like twenty years old, probably only makes the bread darker because of an oil leak."

"I ain't getting it replaced," Laxus snapped, glaring at the open circuitry of the machine with probably too much hatred for what the situation deserved. "If it gets it replaced, then the fucking things knows that it's won."

"It's a toaster dude," Cana deadpanned.

"Don't give a shit," Laxus groaned, leaning back in the chair so the forelegs left the floor, resting his arms behind his head. "You meant to be working today?"

"Yeah. Apparently there's some big group coming for lunch and they need extra wait staff, so Gramps called me. And I'm working the bar later," Cana shrugged, taking out a chair and straddling it; because of course she did. "You?"

"Room seven had a flickering light, needed fixing," Laxus sighed. "Thought I might as well work on this thing while I'm here."

The blonde looked around the small room, eyes flittering towards the clock and sighing. He'd been drinking the night before and had it not been for his grandfather's seven AM phone call worrying about the supposed 'lawsuit waiting to happen' he would probably only just be getting out of bed after nursing a light hangover. He'd been able to wrangle a free breakfast from Mirajane, at least, but he would trade that in for his covers at that moment. At least when he was planning to feel sorry for himself about his hangover, he had something to do. Now he just had a day of nothing.

His work was fine, but inconsistent. He did any repairs that was needed at his grandfather's hotel, be that plumbing, electric work, or just helping out when it was understaffed. But Makarov kept a tight ship, and had good relationships with his staff so absences only happened when needed. So, Laxus was often left with little to do.

It was a nice problem to have, but Laxus didn't intend to be impartial.

This was the issue in living in a small town for all of your life, being forced to either thrive there or break free from it. He liked Magnolia, the area was beautiful and his childhood there had been good, but he was limited by living there. A degree in electrical engineering wasn't worth much when the only relevant job available was at a mechanics shop where he'd once bashed in the teeth of the owner's son. The miserable old bastard should have forgiven him by now; it'd been six years.

Which was why he was grateful for his grandfather giving him the job. He got to put his degree to use, even if on crappy toasters, and made a living. But it was a boring existence, and the reason why Laxus found himself on job searchers websites at least twice a week.

"You gonna eat that?" Cana asked, going towards the warmed but not toasted bread.

"No," Laxus furrowed his brows. "Are you?"

"I'm poor, man," Cana laughed, picking up the bread and eating it.

"I've seen the cupboard where you keep your booze, you ain't 'stealing warm. crappy bread poor' yet," Laxus deadpanned, and Cana laughed as she ate her bread; she didn't even put fucking butter on it. "And you get twice the number of tips than me when we work the bar together. Where's it going?"

"Booze cupboard," Cana grinned.

"You'll fuck up your kidneys, you know."

"I'll get an operation and replace 'em," Cana laughed, swallowing a bite of bread. "Speaking of being split open and things going inside, you fucked anyone lately?"

"Fuckin hell!" Laxus exclaimed, wide eyes darting towards the woman who was now openly laughing.

This was something that his friend brought up often, and as such she had lost all tact about it. The two of them were some of the only openly gay people in Magnolia – at least to their knowledge – and therefore had some annoying kinship when it came to their relationships. It had started as them both feeling sorry for themselves, as they had nobody to date. Somehow, it had devolved into a friendship where Cana felt perfectly comfortable talking about what Laxus was planning on doing, or had done, in his bed.

Worse still, Laxus didn't have the same opportunity to make fun of her. Cana was openly besotted with Mirajane, and had long since lost any shame about it. Cana could joke about Laxus falling in love with any man he saw, but Laxus couldn't do the same because they both knew Mirajane was the only woman for her.

Selfish asshole.

"You're gonna fuck all of hell? You must have more time on your hands," Cana laughed, and Laxus stood up with a groan. "Aw, come on man, don't leave."

"I'm gonna go see if one of the toilets needs to be unblocked," Laxus grunted, walking towards the door of the breakroom. "Seems more pleasant than talking t' you."

"Oh how you wound me, I think I might cry," Cana spoke in possibly the most sarcastic voice possible.

"Go suck on yer crushes clit," Laxus muttered.

"Had a good few dreams about that, my man," Cana grinned, before adding in a less teasing tone. "And Lisanna said she wants to talk to you later, so find her once you're done scrubbing the shitter," A smirk formed on her features again. "Maybe she wants to set you up with her brother. You'd be a hot ass couple."

"Fuck yourself."

"Imagine the carnage though. The two of ya could break beds faster than an over eager lumberjack."

Laxus didn't respond, and lifted his middle finger to the woman as he left the room.

~~~

There had been no toilets in need of being cleaned, thankfully, but Laxus had been able to keep himself busy for the morning. It had been mainly small and inconsequential jobs, such as removing leaves from the guttering before a build-up formed and checking that supply of complimentary soap wasn't running low, before he ended up back in the break room and working on the toaster.

It wasn't going well, and the patrons would have to deal with the break rooms single slice toaster for at least another day, but at least Cana was working the restaurant for the lunch shift rather than being there to annoy him. He hoped that the table was full of obnoxious people who didn't know what they wanted and refused to tip.

He gulped down half a can of Red Bull, and groaned as he fought the urge to check toaster prices online.

After cracking his back, he stood up and ran a hand through his hair. He quickly checked himself out in the mirror to make sure he looked presentable before leaving the break room; he may not be part of the service-staff, but he still needed to look good to represent the hotel. Normally he wouldn't have to worry about this – his contact with guests was limited – but if he was going to speak to Lisanna, as Cana had claimed he should, then it was almost definite that he'd be in the public eye for a few minutes at least. He didn't look too bad for someone who'd nearly vomited over a plate of cheese fries the night before.

Lisanna was working at the office attached to the front desk, doing some kind of admin that Laxus didn't care enough about to understand. He walked in and, once she looked up from the monitor, she grinned at him. Laxus didn't frown, but the urge was there. The two of them weren't particularly close.

"Hi," She greeted, annoyingly cheerfully. "I didn't know if Cana had passed on the message."

"Well, here I am," Laxus shrugged.

"There you are," She said with a smile, then waved towards one of the other desk chairs populating the cramped room. Laxus took a seat. "So, I've got something I thought you could help with. A proposition I guess."

Laxus paused for a moment. She wasn't actually going to try and set him up with Elfman, was she? That would be weird, Elfman wasn't Laxus' type.

"There's this guest, you see, who checked in yesterday," She began, before stopping herself. "No, that's not important. Well it is, but not right now," Laxus stayed quiet. Lisanna was a talkative person, and could probably have an entire conversation with herself. "You know Albion house, the old cottage on the outskirts of town that's' all run down."

"Yeah," Laxus nodded, confused. "Think I made up some crap about it being haunted when I was a kid."

"That's the place- that was you! Mirajane told me when I was eight and I had nightmare for weeks, you asshole," Lisanna chastised, and Laxus didn't hide the smirk at the admission. "Whatever, we can talk about that later. Anyway, it recently got a new owner, you see. And I was talking to him last night and a bit during breakfast. So he doesn't know what to do because he can't knock it down and sell the land, and the house is kind of crappy so nobody's actually gonna wanna pay any real money for it, right. So he's kinda stuck; I think he needs the money for something, I didn't wanna ask."

Did she talk to the guests this much?

This was why Laxus always booked into big corporate hotels whenever he stayed away.

"Getting off topic, sorry," She shook her head. "So, I was talking to the new owner, and he thought maybe he could get it sold for more money if it was more functional. Not a total refurbishment or anything, just making sure the lights work and the floorboards won't crumble underfoot. And he's not from the area, so he doesn't know any builders or plumbers or anyone he'll need."

She then stopped talking, and began grinning at Laxus expectantly. "And?"

"Really conforming to the stereotype of strong men being dumb," She muttered, and Laxus found himself happy that his ghost story had apparently given her nightmares. "And I said that we've got a kickass handyman working here part time who could probably help you out. I told him about all the stuff you do around here, and he said he'd be interested in meeting with you!"

"You got me a job interview?" Laxus said, taken aback slightly.

"Well, I don't think it's that formal, but kinda," She grinned. "I heard you're looking for a project to work on, and he said he's willing to pay you for your time if you're any good."

Laxus leant back in the chair, closing his eyes slightly. He didn't have a reputation for reacting particularly well to surprises, and this was rather a big one. Because a woman he barely actually knew had done something pretty damn big for him.

Working on property was something Laxus had been curious about, and it had seemed to be plausible for him. It was essentially what he was doing in the hotel, just on a larger scale and possibly with more of a challenge, which Laxus liked the sound of. There had been a few months where he'd watched house renovation shows when he could, to see if he could get a better understanding on how the field worked. He very quickly learned that, to do what he wanted, he needed the money to buy some run down property to renovate. Money which he didn't have, given he was a handyman working part time in a hotel.

So to have an opportunity given to him out of nowhere was a little overwhelming.

Because it could really help him out. He was more than qualified to modernise a house's inner workings, and was willing to put the work in. And if it went well, he would at worst end up with more experience, some extra money and perhaps a good reference he could give to some other housing developers. It could actually be really good.

Of course, that meant Laxus was immediately distrustful of the offer. Because things didn't just happen.

"So this guy is just gonna trust some random stranger?"

"I think he's kind of desperate, really," Lisanna laughed, a pitying expression on her face. "I think he wants to get out of here as quickly as he can, he's a city boy. But that doesn't matter. He seems like a nice man, and it's not like you can't do the work he wants. You might as well talk to him, see if it works out," She shrugged. "He's in the restaurant I think. I said I'd bring him over if you were interested."

"Erm," Laxus mumbled. "Fuck it, why not?"

The majority of the walk towards the restaurant was spent with Laxus trying to rationalise exactly what had just happened. He glanced at his reflection whenever he could, because if this was as much an opportunity as Lisanna seemed to think that it was, Laxus needed to make a good first impression.

When they walked into the restaurant, Lisanna seemed to scan the room before spotting the person she was looking for. She started to walk again and Laxus followed, eyes eventually settling on the man sitting at the window table.

He wasn't what Laxus expected.

Having expected a stuffy old man, in his fifties and balding, Laxus felt wrongfooted. The man was almost certainly a few years younger than Laxus. He had long and green hair, tied high in a ponytail. He was wearing a sharp looking suit that Laxus didn't recognise the brand of. His facial features were sharp and well structured, no doubt the rest of his body just as maintained under his clothing. As Laxus got closer he could smell a mix of some sharp and cool cologne, and the floral scent left by the clothes' steamers put in every room. When he looked up to Laxus he had sharp and inviting blue eyes, and a somewhat enigmatic expression.

Laxus might be inclined to call him a pretty boy, had his expression been a little less intense.

Just his type. Aesthetically, anyway.

"Mr Justine," Lisanna said in greeting. "How'd your lunch?"

"Very pleasant," The man said, glancing for a second to the chicken salad he was eating and then back to Laxus.

"This is the man I told you about, our handyman," Lisanna explained, nudging Laxus. The blonde stepped forward and offered his hand to shake. The man did so, with a firm grasp.

"Laxus," The blonde said. "It's nice to meet you, sir."

"You too," The man replied, and Laxus couldn't help but notice how smooth his voice was. But it wasn't the time, so he retracted his hand as the other man spoke. "I'm Freed, as you've perhaps been told. I expect your colleague has explained why I wish to speak with you?"

"The Albion House, right?" Laxus asked. "You got lumbered with the place and need help with the electrics."

"Essentially, yes," Freed nodded. "The only thing that's actually remained intact is the building's structure. The wiring, the plumbing, the heating system, and I'm sure there's a lot more that I'm not aware of that has also been destroyed. I wish to get the building to a point where it's functioning so I can sell it. It doesn't need to be nice to look at, just work. Is that something you think you can do?"

"Well, I'm good with all that shit- stuff," Laxus winced, glancing at the table, and missing the amused expression on Freed's face. "I've done a lot of work here, and in some other houses when they need it. Unless there's some really unusual crap, I should be fine."

"Take a seat, Mr Dreyar."

At the sudden request, Laxus found himself doing what he was told. He sat opposite Freed, and waited a little awkwardly while Freed ordered another tea for himself. He thought about telling him that Lisanna wasn't actually part of the wait-staff, but she smiled and said it'll be right out before retreating to the kitchen. He frowned as she walked away, only to quickly turn back and give him two thumbs up and a large smile. He almost rolled his eyes at the stupid action, but looked back to the man who might soon employ him.

"I think it's best we be honest with one another," Freed continued, and Laxus nodded slightly. "I have no interest nor practical skill when it comes to homeownership and renovations. I can learn, and I'm not an impractical man in general, but a lot of the work will be done by you."

"I can do that," Laxus said with a nod. "How would that work with the, erm… payment, if that ain't too forward?"

"No, that's fair," Freed said, pulling out his phone from his breast pocket. "I haven't had long to look into it, but I plan to pay you by the hour; I don't know how long it will take, so I thought that made more sense than a single payment. I'll clarify how much you get each hour when I find out the average pay a skilled workman gets. Of course we can debate this if you don't think it's fair, but I expect it'll be a good wage"

Laxus probably looked a bit stupid for a moment. He was expecting either a vague answer or a simple 'I'll pay you a grand and expect it to be done by the end of the month.' Not a lot of… legal sounding crap.

"That sounds good," Laxus said after a moment, nodding. "How bad's the house, if y' know? The outside ain't great but I'd like to know what I'm getting into."

"The outside is the best part, I'm afraid," Freed chuckled a little bitterly, and Laxus glanced up at his face again. On his handsome features – and damn, up close they were pretty handsome – there were slight lines of worry beside his eyes. "I didn't take many pictures as I wasn't in the best of moods, but this is fairly reflective of the entire place."

Freed flicked on his phone a few times, and then showed his screen to Laxus. It took a few seconds for Laxus to actually understand what that was, and when he did he let out an almost impressed sigh and leant back in his chair.

"That's the circuit box?" He laughed, and Freed nodded. "It looks like…"

"It had a violent orgy with a jackhammer, baseball bat and a box of explosives?" Freed completed, and Laxus let out a short bark of laughter, shocking himself.

"Fuck, sorry. I shouldn't laugh," Laxus winced, though he was grinning. When he glanced towards Freed again, he openly saw him smirking at him. If nothing else, at least this proved his boss had a sense of humour. "I didn't expect it, sorry. It does look pretty bad though, if the rest of the house is like that then it's probably gonna take a while to get the place in a liveable state."

"I assumed as much," Freed said with a sigh. "I only intend to stay here for a week, I should clarify. My office may allow me to extend that for another week. I'm hoping that, by then, you'll have begun work and can do so without me. I'll keep in regular contact of course, but I won't be here in person often."

"That's okay. I can deal with that," Laxus nodded as he spoke. He liked working alone. "What do you do, if you don't mind me askin'?"

"I'm a lawyer," Freed waved his hand as he returned his phone to his jacket pocket.

"Fuck. That's pretty-" Hot. "Impressive."

"Thank you," Freed nodded a little. "I don't mean to be abrupt, but I've got to clear some details up with my office, so I'll have to leave you," He pulled a small piece of paper from his pocket. "Here's my card, call me in the evening. We'll discuss things further then. Good day, Laxus."

"Yeah," Laxus nodded. "Speak later."

Freed nodded, and left the restaurant. Laxus allowed his eyes to trail over his retreating figure, roaming over his broad shoulders to his taut waist, then, for a split-second, to his ass. He glanced away, only to see Cana watching him with a judgmental, shit-eating grin.

"I'm gonna fix the fucking toaster," Laxus muttered with a slight blush, standing abruptly. Cana kept smirking. "Fuck off."

[sourestlemon]

So. I made a bet with my friend that I could get through Omegaverse Haikyuu fanfiction because he says I can’t so if I read https://archiveofourown.org/works/13330632/chapters/30514041 that I’m going to get free icecream and twenty bucks.

But still, Bokuaka! Bokuaka is beautiful, I should rant about it more actually

This is me talking about this fic as I read, so it’ll be updated until I finish

Note, I’ve finished and it’s very very long. You’ve been warned

There’s my review and meta at the end of this as well as some critiques

Spoilers ahead.

“The Jewel of Seijou”

THE WHAT NOW

IWAOIIII

Bokuaka is so fucking cute dear god.

Oh. It’s sinful now

Ushijima better stop throwing shade at my boi’s

“"I can't believe you all think that you can go against the crown and live!" Ushishima says silencing them all. The alpha was slowly emitting his pheromones wanting to show them all his superiority. No one said a word against him. "Toru! I didn't know you'll be as lowly to use your family name to gather us here!" The alpha seethed to the omega that could have been his wife. Iwazumi hackles raised and bared his lips at the beginning of a growl. "And you!" Ushijima turned to Bokuto full on emitting his pheromones making the rest of the alpha's shoulder hackle cautiously and Oikawa to cling at Iwazumi. But Bokuto meet Ushijima calmly, unfazed by the bloodlust while Akaashi was frozen to his spot but didn't show any emotion.”

So what we get out of this paragraph is

1) Bitchy Ushi. I love Ushijima don’t get me wrong he’s precious but like. This fic Ushijima? Son of a bitch walking up in here like “Toru! How dare you be so lowly—“ and fucking trying to dominate everyone.

2) Protective Iwaizumi. Protect the precious Seijou Jewel. Do it, fight for him, protect him he’s scared.

3) Is Ushijima salty because Oikawa didn’t choose him? Oh god, he is isn’t he.

4) Akaashi’s go to emotion isn’t emotion.

5) Shits about to go down, Bokuto is gonna flip eventually, if Ushi threatens anyone—it’d probably be Oikawa or Akaashi seeing as they’re omega’s—I can see Bokuto and Iwaizumi just flipping their shit.

God I’m way to invested. Why did I read this

USHIJIMA IS A COWARDLY LITTLE BITCH IN THIS FIC, STAB HIM HINATA

D O I T

Awww Kageyama cares, Tsukki cares

OH MY GOD TENDOU!

More people came surrounding them. "What the hell," Akaashi recognized Iwazumi's voice.

Iwaizumi’s reaction is the only respectable reaction.

Wait this has major character death in the tags

Fuck

Everyone has decided that Oikawa and Akaashi must be defended but just once I want them to flip their shit and kill someone. Just once.

Bokuto, Lev and Iwaizumi all want to protect Oikawa but Iwaizumi doesn’t even fucking trust em.

Why does everyone act like Nishinoya not wanting to move on so quickly is a bad thing? It’s perfectly reasonable and I hate how everyone is like “What’s wrong with you, do you not like us?” And getting super standoffish or snappish simply because Nishinoya loves Asahi so much and doesn’t want to feel like they didn’t need him.

I really don’t like how Nishinoya/Tanaka/Ennoshita became a thing in this fic. It would be cute if it didn’t just happen because Nishinoya was desperate and if he wasn’t he wouldn’t have fucked Tanaka.

Oh dear god I don’t want Kenma to die.

Oh thank god it’s okay.

Fuck I forgot they had boobs

Did Bokuto almost name the Kuroken baby Oya but changed last minute?

BO ISN’T COMING BACK IS HE?????????

I’m feelin a little sniffly. I might fucking cry over an Omegaverse fic. Oh how the mighty have fallen

Oh my god the stars. I don’t think Bo is coming back y’all. I’m so nervous

The fuckin royals aren’t getting Keiji. No. Nuh-uh FUCK THAT SHIT

THAT’S BOKUTO’S MATE STAY AWAY FROM HIM

-cue mac worrying about oikawa because seijou is allied with fukurodani and an easy way to tear seijou away from the alliance is to kidnap oikawa and iwaizumi might split to keep him safe and ushi fucking knows this and possibly tendou also oiks is pretty as fuck-

BOKUTO IS OKAY!

Iwaizumi making Bokuto promise to save Oikawa if things went to shit makes me so worried but the same time his lil speech made my IwaOi heart so happy.

Suga bby...

BOKUTO JUST KILLED A FUCKING CHILD

Tendou, Ushijima I never thought I’d say this but I fucking hate them right now. They better not hurt the other best Boi’s.

Ushijima is salty as fuck confirmed.

"You truly are a piece of art," Ushijima said gently ...."But not as beautiful as him," the alpha muttered as he threw the omega to the floor.

So, this little snippet sent disgusting shivers down my spine for two reasons.

1) Ushijima just yeeted Akaashi, my son and

2) Any reader knows who the ‘he’ Ushi is talking about is, the only person in this book who is said to be as beautiful as Akaashi. You guessed it, the boi who rejected Ushi-fucking-jima, Jewel of Seijou himself Oikawa Tooru.

The thing that grosses me out the most about this paragraph just on its own is that Ushijima is either guessing about what Oikawa looks like, or he actually knows which overall just gives me the heebie jeebies because Oikawa definitely didn’t want that. What makes my skin crawl in this little snippet is what Ushijima would do when if he got his angry little hands on Oikawa—or Iwaizumi, but Iwa would probably be killed or used as a bargaining chip.

Hmmmmm, I’m pretty sure Ushi is in love with Tendou but the beauty statement still stands possibly???? Unless specified otherwise, because Akaashi and Oikawa are canonically considered the most beautiful people in the fic.

Also this entire chapter just makes me feel so gross, fuck Ushijima man. Fuck him.

My Ushijima loving heart hurts reading this fic.

I just want Akaashi and Oikawa to straight up kill someone. Please, anyone who I don’t care about

I FUCKING SEE THE MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH WARNING AND I DON’T LIKE IT

FUCK

FUCK

FUCK

NOT BOKUTO

WAIT IS HE ALIVE

I WANNA SEE MY LITTLE BOY

HERE HE COMES

I WANT TO SEE MY LITTLE BOY

"I came right on time," Bokuto forced out his voice cracking with emotion. "Now I can engulf you in my arms and brighten your days despite the absence of the sun. You will no longer have to endure the cold winters alone. I'll be with you, I be there for you and our child," The alpha vowed his hands itching in need.

"Are you going to leave us again?" Akaashi needed to know. The omega already knew that he wouldn't be able to survive being apart from the alpha. He knew that he wouldn't win the battle with the overwhelming loneliness.

"The seas could dry up, the mountains could turn to pebbles, the trees could die and the whole world could be on fire and I still won't leave your side."

That was all Akashi needed to hear as he leaped into his alphas arm and let go of all the pain he has held in

I’m not crying I swear

They walked together side by side and Akaashi finally faced them. They were both beaten, bloody, and torn butinstead of feeling satisfaction he felt remorse. They both looked at him with soft, wide eyes, and he realized that this was the moment they were waiting for. They wanted to see the child that they both desperately wanted and Akaashi decided to give them a parting gift.

Akaashi had won, he had won from the very beginning and he held his trophy who was a small babe with golden orbs, with mutant white and black hair. He hadn't lied to Tendou when he had said that the baby looked exactly like his father.

OH MY FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOD I’M SOBBING DON’T TOUCH ME

Meta and Review

So I just read A/B/O for the first time and I knew absolutely nothing about the entire trope that Mpreg existed and to stay the hell away from it. Please remember this in the meta and tell me if there way of dividing characters is ever specified or if it’s just decided by top-bottom dynamics.

Wow.

The story was pretty good outside of what I’m about to talk about. I liked the ships and most of the buildup, the worldbuilding seems solid, the war and UshiTens situation was really interesting to me and it made Ushi and Tendou a bit morally gray and could’ve talked about how people could do bad things for what they thought were the right reason and everything was clean cut.

Overall? Eh. Could’ve been done better

Not onto the rest

This doesn’t seem as toxic or inherently bad as most fics I’ve seen, I didn’t really like how Omega’s are always inherently feminine—the dresses, jewels, how they’re seen as inherently weaker and sometimes helpless, how they’re always referred to as “my lady”—and aren’t really given another choice because they might have the ability to reproduce in A/B/O but they aren’t women. It’s okay if a man is really feminine but for all of them to be? It rubbed my the wrong way.

I wish that the power structure was handled different in A/B/O in general. Omega’s seem to be treated like they’re helpless and I just...don’t like it? Omega’s might be submissive but that doesn’t make them physically weaker and if it did, I would’ve thought they would have picked up some other useful skills like diplomacy or strategy.

As usually, my example of how a character could’ve been handled better is Oikawa.

He’s my favorite character and I adored him but he just didn’t really deliver. It felt like he was being treated like a kid throughout this entire fic, it didn’t seem like he was doing anything during the war. Even if Omega’s don’t have a lot of physically prowess and abilities, what happened to Oikawa’s strategic and analytical nature? Why was it never mentioned in any of Bokuto’s POV sections because out all the leaders of the Allied Kingdoms, Oikawa is the best strategist—Kuroo is the exception, not the rule and I thought they should’ve been working together because smort boys—but he was simply hidden away.

Now I have no problems with all the protective IwaOi scenes when they’re in immediate danger—it makes perfect sense if Omega’s are physically weaker but have other usable talents that are taken seriously—and Oikawa simply can’t talk his way out of said problem.

I do however, have a problem with cowering Oikawa. That feels so OOC at the beginning of the first scene I cited, where is all of the quick wit and worthless pride from the show? Now, it makes sense for Oikawa to start getting scared and simply slip behind Iwaizumi once Ushijima tries to dominate everyone and all the Alphas start freaking out if Oikawa is at an actual, physical disadvantage—I feel like the alpha’s their have similar frames, or at least most of them do. Bokuto, Ushijima, Kuroo and Iwaizumi are jacked and beefy, everyone but Iwa is relatively tall too. Now, Oikawa’s tall too but he’s much thinner and leaner. I’d be scared too if everyone could break me like a twig if it came down to it—but no ??? Apparently at the first sign of any conflict he just gets scared??? He doesn’t know what’s going on in his own fucking kingdom ???

This is not Oikawa.

I didn’t like how they treated most of the Omega’s actually, it felt like they were just reverted to helpless damsels in distress. What happened to Kenma’s observation skills? Nishinoya’s everything?

More importantly, what decides Alpha’s and Omega’s? Is it up in the air like gender is? What are Beta’s then? It can’t just be who’s top and who’s bottom, that would mean the alpha-beta-omega- status wouldn’t be decided until you had a mate

From what I’ve seen in the fic, it goes by ship dynamics but what if the characters who had more strategic, cunning, observant traits and weren’t as buff and muscly would be Omega’s and had the brain power while characters who relied more on physical prowess would be Alpha’s and dominant in a purely physical way sometimes while characters who were an odd combination of the two would be Beta’s.

Going by my logic, instead of the top being the alpha and the bottom just being an omega without any personality it would be...

Bokuto- Alpha, like he was in the story. He’s definitely more physically inclined then Akaashi.

Akaashi: Omega, same as in the fic. Not to say he isn’t athletic but he relies more on his mind.

Iwaizumi- Alpha, like in the fic but from a purely physical standpoint and because he can rein Oikawa in when his friend starts going nuts.

Oikawa - Beta, he’s quite powerful but he’s also manipulative, strategic and his mind is scary as fuck.

Kuroo- Beta, he relies on his physical prowess and dorkily perfect brain a lot so he’s also a mixture of both.

Kenma- Omega, physically he’s a twig but his mind is what makes him the brain of Nekoma

Hinata- Alpha, he doesn’t use his brain a lot and has a lot of physical power

Kageyama - Beta, he’s pretty smart when it comes to volleyball and he’s also physically strong

Suga - Omega, he’s quite clever and his brain power out ways his physical prowess by a landslide

Daichi- Beta, he firms strategies and relies on his brain, plus his killer thighs

Tsukishima - Beta, he has his hue fur and athleticism but his brain power is also strong as fuck

Yamaguchi - Beta, he seems to be really people smart and eventually his serves are pretty good.

Can Betas get into a relationship with other Betas? I don’t know or care, we stan Alpha-Alpha, Beta-Beta and Omega-Omega ships here

I DON’T KNOW IF THIS IS HOW IT WORKS THO

do I have to read more

[buckyscrystalqueen]

Meant To Be: Part 5

Pairings: Machine Gun Kelly x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, drug use.

Word Count: 4,072

A/N: Y’all can thank @wings-of-a-raven for this one….

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So… you’re just going back, then.”

“Damn it.” You groaned as you shoved the last of your clothes back in a box to ship them back to Los Angeles. “She called in the cavalry.” You glanced over at Colson, who was standing in the nursery that could strangely only be accessed through your room, before looking back to the door where your father was leaning against the door frame.

“Do you really think that’s a good idea, (Y/N)?” He asked. “Going back to him?”

“Excuse me?” You asked as you turned completely toward him. “Do I think it’s a good idea to go to LA to live with the father of my child? Is that what you’re asking me right now?”

“Yes, that’s what I’m asking you.” He said with a slow nod. “He wasn’t there for you, (Y/N). What makes you think he’s going to be there now?”

“Think the better question here would be where were you?” Colson asked softly as he carried a box full of toys out of the nursery to add to the stack that was temporarily destined for the small moving pod that was sitting in the driveway to be taken to his house the next day. “Because I left to save her and had I known about my son, that gap of time would’a been a lot shorter.” Your dad shut up relatively quickly since he hadn’t realized that your significant other was in the room as well, and Kels simply walked back into the nursery to finish packing.

“He’s got a point, you know.” You sighed as you grabbed another one of the rented plastic totes from the stack and set it on your bed to pack up the stack of laundry and photos off of your mom’s dresser (since yours was in a storage unit out in California.) “I love you, Dad but you turned your back on me when I got fucked up at your wedding. Mom when I dropped out, and Junior and Tabby did when I moved. The only person I’ve had by my side in the last ten years is Colson.”

“And who’s choice was that, (Y/N)? Huh?” Ross asked, harshly. “I don’t think you get it yet. Your actions are the reason we aren’t there…”

“No, you are the reason!” Colson shouted as he came out of the room, which startled Gage in his baby swing, and made him start to cry. “You’re her fucking father! The man that should have been by her fucking side no matter what!”

“Babe.” You tried as you picked up Gage to soothe him.

“What kinda man just abandons his fucking kid when she fucks up?”

“Baby…”

“She needed you, old man!” He roared as he stepped toward your father and you quickly stepped between the two men and put your hand on his chest.

“Colson, look at me. Hey…” You gave him a firm push, which didn’t move him far, but it was enough to get his attention. He huffed and put one of his hands on yours on his chest as the other went to your hip to pull you back a step away from your dad.

“And this is the kinda man you want to be around? This violent thug?”

“Fuck you, dick!”

“Colson! Walk it off!” You growled as you moved your hand and grabbed his chin. You yanked hard, and guided his eyes to his own crying son. “Take him, please. We have a flight to catch and we have to get this shit out to the storage box before we go. And I can’t do that shit by myself if you’re making our son cry when he should be napping.”

“You’re right.” He said as he physically relaxed in the safety of the nursery. “You and your fucking Jedi mind shit.”

“Just take your son, please.” You sighed with a smirk. “I have to cover your slack now, too.”

“Jesus, bitch! Ain’t that fucking hard to be a mom.” He teased as he quickly stepped out of your reach.

“Fucker!” You barked as you kicked him hard in the butt cheek. “Get him back to sleep. I’m gunna carry this stack up.” You paused in the doorway and looked at your father with your eyebrow raised. “What? It surprises you that the tattooed, piece of shit thug is that passionate about me when my own family only cares when my son got involved?” You gave him a tight lipped smile and nodded your head as you picked up two boxes and stood in front of your dad until he moved. 

“He’s my family.” You said to him as you stoped by his side for a moment longer. “And I love him. So yes, I’m going with him to California, then I think somewhere overseas for his tour. Not sure. But I’ll be… we will be with him as a family. One that doesn’t turn their backs on loved ones no matter what.” With a slight bob of your head goodbye, you turned and headed toward the stairs to finally finish packing the POD so you could catch your flight.

——

You weren’t exactly sure how you forgot the insanity, but when Gage’s bedtime came and went, and the party was still raging down stairs, you quickly realized that raising a child in Colson’s house was going to be a very difficult challenge. You didn’t want to be ‘that bitch’ that came in and tried to change his lifestyle but the later it got and the more Gage cried, the more pissed off you were. You were at least glad that Kels had a small balcony off his master bedroom, which helped damper the sound, but even so, Gage would not fall asleep. Which is exactly why you found yourself, sitting on a slightly broken lounge chair, with your six month old laying on your chest, watching the Wiggles on the baby channel on your phone at three in the morning.

“Stupid fucking Wiggles.” You grumbled softly under your breath as your son laid peacefully, mesmerized by the bright colors on the screen. “Shit’s like a bad fuckin’ acid trip. Who the fuck though this was a good idea anyways? Should be fucking banned…” Your words were cut off by the deafening rumble of a chainsaw, which made you lurch to your feet.

“Oh no!” You shouted as you ran through the house with Gage once again screaming in your ear since either the sound, or your quick movement startled him. Your heart raced in your chest because you knew, at this late hour, there were enough drugs and alcohol involved in this situation to kill an elephant and that someone was gunna get seriously hurt with that chainsaw. 

“Colson!” You roared as you ripped open the front door and moved Gage to your hip. Your boyfriend whipped around to look at you with wide, panicked eyes as he let the chainsaw in his hand putter to a stop. You shook your head and hiked your son up a little bit more as words escaped you. ‘No’ was all you managed to say before you turned around and slammed the front door behind you. You started all over again with calming your son down as you headed back upstairs, and the front door opened a few moments before you slammed the bedroom door closed behind you.

“OK.” You soothed as you laid Gage down in your arms and started to bounce him gently to calm him down again. “I know, baby boy. Mommy’s not happy either.”

“Babe.” Colson said softly as he came into the room, which made you instantly round on him with rage in your eyes.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?!” You screamed as you continued to bounce. “A fucking chainsaw?! Colson, you are so fucking high, I don’t even think you could tell me what Gage’s middle name is…”

“Michael.” He interrupted, daringly as he closed the bedroom door.

“DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!” You screamed as you set Gage down in his rocker. “It’s three in the Goddamn morning and your son has been up here screaming for HOURS! So don’t you dare think you can get smart with me right now!”

“Yo, I’m…”

“I don’t wanna fucking hear it!” You countered over him as you stuck your finger in his face, angrily. “You are the one that wanted us here. You are the one that wanted to be a fucking father. So fucking act like a fucking father and let your Goddamn son go to fucking bed already! He’s exhausted from the time change, I’m exhausted from listening to him scream, and you’re downstairs snorting coke like it’s the fucking 80’s again. Get your fucking shit together, Kels.” You slammed your finger into his chest so hard, you heard your knuckle crack and he reached out and quickly grabbed your wrist before you could turn away.

“OK.” He said simply with a nod of his head, knowing that this was not the time to piss you off because you would swing on him. “My bad. I’ll wrap it up and come help get him to sleep. I’m sorry, baby girl.”

“You fucking better be.” You barked as you ripped your arm out of his grip and went back to pick up your son. “Goddamn chainsaw. It’s three in the fucking morning and you dumb mother fuckers are running a fucking chainsaw. Fucking idiots.” Kels watched you step back onto the patio with a shake of your head, and after a moment, he turned and quickly headed down stairs.

“Yo, parties over.” He called out as he turned down the music.

“The fuck?!”

“Dude, you just got back…”

“Yea, and I got a screamin’ son and a pissed off baby mama upstairs that need to get some sleep. So keep your shit down because I don’t feel like getting fucking stabbed tonight.”

“Dude.” Baze laughed as he poured himself another drink. “When’d you get fucking whipped?”

“When I had a fucking kid, dog.” Colson snapped as he grabbed two beers from the fridge in hopes that they would be a good start of a peace offering. “When I became a fucking parent. That’s when I got fucking whipped.” With a shake of his head, he grabbed some weed from the bag the counter and headed out of the kitchen to calm you down. “And keep the fucking music down!” He called out over his shoulder as he climbed the stairs. He slipped into the room as silently as he could and cringed when he heard Gage still whimpering on the patio.

“Here, baby girl.” He tried as he set the beers and the bud down on the bed on his way outside. “Give him here. Go smoke…”

“Why do you do this to me, Colson?” You asked as you turned around toward him with tears in your eyes. “Huh? Why do you constantly make me the bad guy?”

“Babe, it’s not like that.” He sighed as he gently took Gage from your arms.

“But it is.” You sighed as you walked past him. “Because I know the crew enough to know they called you pussy whipped for wanting to get my son to bed at a reasonable hour. I know that being up here to do something other than getting laid right now is the last thing you want to be doing when there’s at least a half dozen half naked skanks downstairs. And I also know that every minute for the last seven hours, I wanted to be down there partying it up with friends I haven’t really seen in a year…”

“So why didn’t you?”

“What and let him just scream up here all by himself?” You snapped as you flopped down on the bed and cracked open one of the beers. “What kind of mother would that have made me? And don’t you dare say you could have stayed up here with him because we both know you would have lost your shit.” With a heavy sigh, Colson sat down on the bed beside you and moved Gage to lay on his chest comfortably.

“I’m trying, (Y/N).” He said as he looked over at you with a small shake of his head. “I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

“And you think I do? Colson, I’m literally in the same boat as you here. But I can tell you this much for damn sure, we need to find a fucking medium because if night one of us being here was any fucking indication of what it’s gunna be like to live with you again, then I’m taking Gage and finding my own place again and we can figure out some kind of co-parenting shit.”

“No, please.” He said quickly as he sat up a little bit in fear. “Please, I just got you back…”

“Then fucking meet me in the middle here, Kels.” You interrupted as you gestured to the two of you with your finger. “Us as parents, and us as partiers. Because we can’t live on two different pages in the same house. I can’t be a mom and your booty call when you want it while you party it up with our friends. We’re gunna fucking resent each other for that shit real quick and it is gunna tear us apart.”

“And I swear baby girl, I will figure out how to do that ASAP. Just fucking bear with me, OK? I’ll get us there.”

“You better.” You sighed as you got up to grab his bowl from the entertainment center. “And no more Goddamn chainsaws, you hear me?”

“Don’t you wanna hear the idea…”

“No!” You interrupted as you grabbed the weed off the bed and stepped out onto the balcony. “Shit was probably stupid as fuck.”

“It really was.” He chuckled as he laid back down with Gage on his chest so he could sooth him to sleep. “But it was funny as fuck all the same.”

——

“Hey (Y/N).” Colson said as softly as he could as he kneeled on the bed beside you and ran his fingertips through your hair. You growled at him for waking you up just a few hours after you went to bed and pulled the blanket up over your head.

“Unless you or Gage is dying, you better get the fuck away from me, Colson or I will fucking stab you again.”

“No one is dying.” He chuckled as he very carefully pulled the blanket back. “But you, me, and Gage are gunna go to a hotel for a couple days. I have a surprise but it’s gunna keep you and him up for a couple days…”

“I fucking hate you.” You groaned as you opened your eyes to look up at him. “What’s the surprise?” 

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise. Come on. I already packed us up a bag, and fed and changed Gage. Just gotta get you dressed.”

“I’m dressed enough.” You sighed as you sat up and rubbed your hand down your face. You glanced down at the ‘Bloom’ shirt that showed most of your tattooed side thanks to the sleeves and most of the under arm holes being cut out, and nodded. “Fuck it, I’m in LA.”

“OK, you at least need pants.” He laughed as he handed you the pair of jeans he had grabbed from your suitcase. “And shoes.”

“Wait, you’re telling me you heated up a bottle all by yourself?” You asked incredulously as you pulled on your jeans and looked at your tired little boy in his crib from your storage unit in the corner.

“Without the microwave, too.” He said proudly as he held out your sunglasses. “Come on, it’s gunna get really loud in here real soon.” With a heavy sigh, you went over to pick up Gage as Colson grabbed your bag and the car seat. You headed out of the room and nearly tripped over Rook, who was coming out of his bedroom with a large pile of his clothes in his arms.

“Where are you going?”

“Keep walkin’, Uber’s waitin’.” Colson said behind you as JP continued down the hall in front of you. You sighed and did what you were told, too tired to care anymore. You were beyond grateful that he picked a hotel close by and had pulled some strings to get a quiet room, because by the time you got into said room, you had just enough time to pull off your jeans, and put Gage down on the bed beside you before you were back asleep. He let you sleep for the better part of the day before he gently woke you up by running his finger down the bridge of your nose.

“Hey sunshine.” He cooed with a smile. “If you sleep any more, you’re not gunna be able to sleep tonight.” You whined and rolled over on to your back, startling the slightest bit when Gage was laid down on your chest. His giggle made a smile pull at the corner of your lips and you opened your eyes to see his blue eyes staring back at you.

“Well hi there handsome.” You cooed as you put your hands on his back to keep him from rolling off you. “Did you have a fun day with Daddy?”

“We went down to the pool.” Colson said with a smile as he laid down against your side. “And we went swimming for a little bit. Then we went to the atrium and looked at all the plants… and we took some pictures for Mommy and let Mommy catch up on sleep because Daddy’s a fuck head.”

“Daddy is a fuck head.” You giggled as you tilted your head to the side a bit to look at Gage’s new hair style. “And giving out free mohawks?”

“Well I knew you would be pissed if I cut it and he was starting to look a little androgynous…”

“Ooo, big word.”

“Fuck you.” He grumbled as he reached up and fixed the ‘hawk. “So I made my son look bad ass.”

“I would have killed you if you cut his hair.” You said with a small nod as you looked over at him. “But I’m digging the mohawk.”

“It’s fucking bad ass.” He chuckled with a smile. “We’re gunna have to get special EST shit for him since 19 doesn’t work.”

“We both need new tattoos.” You said with a nod as you poked the 19XX tattoo on his collarbone that matched the one across your hip bone. “Fuck, now I want a new tattoo.”

“We should get matching tats for Gage.”

“What the fucking six we already have ain’t enough for you?”

“Bitch.” He groaned as he flicked you in the temple. “Keep that shit up and I’ll call the sitter back and you can order fucking pizza for dinner of some shit.”

“What sitter?” You snapped as you looked over at him with your eyebrow raised. “I’m not leaving him…”

“Relax.” He said as he propped his head up on his fist. “I called Ashleigh. She’s got a niece and she used to baby sit when she was younger all the fucking time. I trust her not to fuck up our kid.”

“Colson, that in no fucking way, shape, or form reassures me.”

“Oh fucking suck it up.” He laughed as he pushed himself up. “We’re going up the fucking block to dinner to get on the same fucking page about shit, OK? Now get your ass up, get into that smokin hot black dress that makes that ass look so fucking good, and let’s go fucking eat some fucking steak like a couple’a sexy carnivores.”

“I’m not going.” You said with a shake of your head as you held Gage to your chest a little tighter.

“Yes… you are.” Colson said, simply as he came over and picked up his son. “Hey, little man. You gunna stay with Ash tonight so Daddy can smooth talk Mommy into his pants again?”

“Richard Colson Baker!” You snapped as you got out of bed and whipped around to look at him. “No sexcapades talk to the baby!”

“Oh, Daddy’s getting lucky tonight.”

——

“Kels! Kels, over here!”

“(Y/N)! Are you finally going back to Penthouse?”

“Where’s your son?”

“Here, baby. Over here.” Colson said softly as he let go of your hand and put it on the small of your back. “Guys! Can you fuckin’ move and let her walk, please?!” You stuttered a bit and stopped walking when someone with a giant camera stopped at the curb in front of you.

“Guys, please?” You asked as you put your hand up in front of your face to shield your eyes from the camera flashes to look for the town car that was supposed to be picking you up.

“Yo, fucking move!” Kels roared as the camera people kept taking their photos and not giving a damn about either of your privacy as they fought to get one of the first photos of you and Colson out in public together. Your hand flew out to catch his fist before he swung on the man with the camera in your face.

“I won’t ask you again.” You growled evenly as you stepped around the photographer.

“Babe!” Colson shouted as he grabbed your arm and yanked you back on the sidewalk as the car came screeching to a stop where you had just been standing and only a few inches away from the man with the camera. You stumbled into his chest and the paparazzi actually stopped taking pictures for a moments. “Go, go.” Colson said quickly as he ran in front of you and ripped open the back door of the car. You sprinted on your toes in your heels and ducked around him into the car at the same moment the photographers started to take their photos again.

“Drive!” You said as Kels slammed the door behind himself. “Just drive!” You ducked your head below the seat and realized that you were actually panting to catch your breath as Colson whipped around and cupped your face in his hands.

“Holy fuck… are you OK? Jesus, come here.” You shook your head as he pulled you into his arms with a heavy sigh. “Fuck, that fucking car was right there.”

“I’m fine.” You sighed as you sat up and flipped your hair back. “Jesus, Colson. I said yes to dinner, not to being fucking mauled.”

“OK, are you at least fucking OK? Scared the fucking shit outta me.”

“How the fuck did they even know we were staying at a fucking hotel?”

“Because I was down in the fucking lobby with Gage.” Colson sighed as he leaned back against his seat. He gave the driver the address of the restaurant and huffed as he looked over at you with a smile. “At least you look hot.”

“You’re an asshole.” You laughed as you pulled your phone from your bag to check your hair and makeup. “Knew I should have stayed in bed with my son.”

“Wrong. You get to party it up with me instead starting right now. Yay!” You looked over at him and did a double take as he shook a small vial of coke between his fingers.

“Wait, you’re serious?” You hissed as you glanced up at your man.

“You quit breastfeeding just this week.” He said as he unscrewed the vial. “And I want my party girl back. Even if it is for one night.” You bit your cheeks to hide your smirk as he poured out a bump on his hand and held it out between the two of you. “Come on, baby. Fly with me.”

“You are a very, very bad influence.” You whispered as you carefully pulled his hand up a bit to snort the coke down. You shivered at the distantly familiar burn and sniffled as you sat up straight. “Bad influence, Colson. So, so bad.”

“How the fuck else did we get Gage?” He teased as he did a bump himself before pouring one more out for you. “Quick, we’re here.”

“Horrible.” You muttered as you did the last bump. “Fuck, that’s good shit.”

“Welcome home, baby girl.” Colson said as he slid the vial into the nice leather jacket he had on. “Welcome home.”

Part 6

[itcameuponamidnightqueer]

beaujester + 31

“oh, shit.”

jester turns to follow fjord’s gaze, landing on their very drunk monk as she stumbles through the front door. beau trips and spins around as she rights herself, her hands coming up in very loose fists as if to fight an invisible enemy. jester might find it amusing if this hadn’t happened for the past three nights. 

“what is she doing?” she mumbles. 

fjord shrugs next to her. “i’m not sure, but it’s your turn.”

“i know, i know.”

jester sounds annoyed but she’s really very worried. and sad, because something is probably really wrong. beau wasn’t even like this after molly, mostly. sure, there was keg, but that was almost kind of sweet from what jester could tell (and what she tried not to hear). this is—beau seems desperate, only jester has no idea what she’s desperate for.

it doesn’t matter at the moment, because jester knows she’s going to have a hard time getting beau to calm down. she’s come home riled up every night this week, and beau can’t tell if the bruises that peek out from under her clothes are the fun kind or not. so she sets her shoulders and walks over, approaching slowly just in case.

beau smiles dopey and big when she realizes she has company. “heyyy, jessie!” she drawls.

jester grasps beau’s wrists and lower them, gently opening her fists. “hi, beau. did you have a good night?”

beau shrugs, teetering away from jester. the only reason she hasn’t fallen over is because jester won’t let go. “s’okay. ‘m glad to be home.”

“really?”

“yeah,” beau breathes. it stinks.

“can i take you upstairs then?”

“hell yeah,” beau winks. jester can’t hold back a smile. “luck keeps comin’ fer me tonight.”

“oh.” jester doesn’t blush but something twists inside her anyway. “well, good for you, i guess. here.” she turns around and drapes beau’s arms over her back, adjusting her into a more stable position before jester stands back up.

beau very lazily wraps her legs around jester’s middle. her head falls against the back of jester’s neck. “five gold still the goin’ rate?”

“ten gold,” jester replies as she maneuvers toward the staircase.

“wow, you’re more expensive ‘n yasha.”

jester smiles and hoists beau up. she walks the rest of the way in silence, hoping that maybe the movement will lull beau to sleep and she can just dump her on her bed.

maybe it would have if the walk were longer, but beau is still awake when they make it to the bedroom. she slides off of jester’s back and sits gracelessly on her bed. jester lies down on her own, propped up on her side and watching. 

“is something wrong, beau?”

“wrong? pfffft. no way. ‘m great.” beau points her thumb at her chest in a sweeping arc. “i just had a very night—very nice night—with a super hot drow lady and i’m tellin’ you now, when this whole city falls in love with humans, that’s my fault.”

“it’s your fault?” jester grins.

“mhm. i’m gonna change rosho—rasno—here.”

“well, you’re very charming; that’s true.”

“you know, i’ve always thought so.” beau nods, suddenly solemn. “thanks, jester.”

“you’re welcome.” jester replies without thinking, manners too ingrained in her to be left unsaid. “do you think, though, that maybe you could be charming in a…different way?”

beau furrows her brows. “like what?”

“well,” jester hesitates, “i know you like to have fun, and i definitely don’t want to tell you that you can’t. but maybe it doesn’t always have to be the kind of fun that’s drunk and horny and angry.”

“isn’t that kind of who i am, though?”

“what?” jester sits up straight in her bed. “no, beau; that’s not who you are at all.”

“‘course it is. well, not always the drunk part, but.”

jester shakes her head. “maybe that’s who you used to be, beau, but that’s not who you are.”

beau scoffs and waves a dismissive hand. “nah, it totally is. s’like, we went back to kamordah, right. and my parents hadn’t changed, and my dad fuckin’—looked at me like i hadn’t changed. and that house—maybe i haven’t. s’okay. i know how to be this.”

“beau…”

“no, jes, listen. i know what you’re gonna say.” beau huffs and makes a poor attempt at jester’s accent. jester doesn’t take it personally, but it’s not fun, either. “i shouldn’t fight so much,” beau continues, “an’ i could be nicer if i tried a little harder. it’s not good to drink like this, and if i want to stop bein’ sad, i can’t keep kissin’ strangers ’n pretending they’re you. i got it, jes; i know that.”

beau doesn’t realize what she’s said; jester knows because she’s still smiling. meanwhile, jester couldn’t muster a smile right now even if she used her wand. she’s suddenly very grateful that beau is too drunk to notice.

“i’m going to get us some water,” she says, clearing her throat. jester walks out as quickly as she can.

fjord is still in the kitchen. he drops a cookie guiltily onto a plate when she comes in.

“i definitely wasn’t gonna eat that before tomorrow, ha ha…”

jester barrels past him and fills two glasses of water at the sink.

“jester, are you alright?”

“i’m fine, fjord; thank you.” 

she’s definitely holding the glasses tighter than she needs to.

“you don’t seem fine.”

these glasses were here with the house when they moved in; the bright queen or at least essek would probably be mad if they broke.

“jester?”

maybe if she stands very still and concentrates very hard, she won’t end up with cuts on her palms and broken glass on the floor; she doesn’t even know where they keep a broom.

“jester…”

at the touch of fjord’s hand on her shoulder, jester takes a deep breath and whirls around, plastering on a large smile. 

“thank you for being concerned, fjord, but you don’t need to worry. i know how to handle beau when she’s like this.”

“do you? did she say something?”

miraculously, the water is still exactly where it’s supposed to be. jester smiles, though she knows it’s too shaky to be believable. 

“it’s fine,” jester repeats. “she’ll be alright in the morning.”

she walks away before he can say anything or (hopefully) follow her.

jester expects beau to be sleeping when she returns, but luck isn’t on her side tonight. beau is lying down at least, her legs hanging askew off of her bed. she’s mumbling something that jester can’t quite make out—if it’s a song, she’s a very bad singer.

jester walks over to beau’s bed and deposits both glasses of water on her nightstand. she kneels down and lifts beau up so she’s sitting enough to take a sip. 

“here, drink some.” beau finishes half the glass and hands it back, finally looking sleepy and calm. 

“thanks, jes,” she mumbles.

“sure.” jester sighs, takes both of beau’s hands in hers. “beau, i need you to know that i think you’re charming and funny and handsome. you’re smart, and you’re kind, and you’re angry in the right ways. you’ve changed so much even since i met you, and your dad is the biggest cockbag and he doesn’t know you at all—i don’t think he ever did.” jester swipes her thumbs across the backs of beau’s fingers and makes sure she’s looking at her. “every minute i’m with you, you make me feel loved. okay?”

beau nods, without a trace of levity in her eyes. “okay.”

“okay.” jester stands up. “i’m going to tell you how dumb this was in the morning, but for now you should definitely go to sleep.”

jester climbs in her own bed but doesn’t relax until she’s sure beau has settled. she watches beau kick at the covers for a few seconds before giving up and dropping her head into a mound of pillows.

jester smiles and turns on her side, snuggling in herself. the bed feels bigger tonight but she can think about that tomorrow, when everything is a little fresher. she listens to the sounds of the city, the distant crackle of torches and the skitter of mice in the street. she closes her eyes and listens until they turn into a drone, a pleasant hum that drowns out anything else and replaces it with a cozy kind of fuzz. jester can feel herself filling with it, letting it smooth over the cracks in her body and she’s almost asleep when—

“love you, jes.”

jester wipes away a tear. “i love you, too.”

//

send me a number + a ship

[targsdaenerys]

i remember when the witcher creators said the show is yennefer and ciri centered so i was interested finally a show where the fans gonna appricate the ladies then i searched for the witcher tag and all i saw was the straight white singing guy and ger@skier i was like wtf?? hes not even an important character just a 'funny' sidekick...I was excited for yennefer/geralt and their cute family with ciri but all i see is ger@skier.. I don't think I wanna be in the witcher fandom I'm so dissapointed

yea i just,,, people really do anything to take the focus off women. my opinions on the topic can all be found here on @yendany ’s post since i know ill be called h*mophobic if i say them here (unrightfully, might i add).

i remember when i first watched the show and immediately said ‘oh no’ when G & J’s partnership started to form because i KNEW what would come next - they would become a crackship that over shadows G & Y’s canon relationship with reasons why its better and h*mophobic if it doesnt happen in later seasons and how yen actually abused geralt or some sexist shit like that that reflects onto her canonically written character. i knew it was going to happen and it fuckin did.

and dont get me wrong!! i love their partnership!! i would even love seeing a fanart of the crackship even kissing or cuddling sometimes!! the problem is that people make these crack ships but then get highly defensive over them, mainly to write the canon couple in a bad light since they have no other way to justify their ship (or, in this case, their character since J is here for not much more than comedic relief).

and by doing that they have not only desensitized the prospect of not one but TWO women having their own lead roles, main storylines and designated screen time, but also are villianizing a WOC in order to put a (as far as we know, straight) white male sideline character on a pedestal.

i just want to read some g/y/c family fun fanfic okay

[writerofshit]

for the ship asks, 19 (things you said when we were the happiest we ever were) and stream team (treh, myatt, and lil j)?

(So. Maybe not to the heart of the prompt, but the happiest I've ever been was simply existing with people I loved.)

19. things you said when we were the happiest we ever were 

“Goddamnit Jeremy!” Matt’s voice rings out through the apartment, loud and vaguely angry. He's in the kitchen, which means he has just stumbled upon what Jeremy has done. “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you.”

Jeremy glances at Trevor, sitting beside him on the couch. “Any chance you wanna take the blame for this one?”

“Depends.” Trevor doesn’t take his eyes off of his character on screen. “What did you do?”

Before Jeremy can respond, Matt stomps into the room, empty cereal box in hand. “You knew I was looking forward to this!" On the last word, he gestures aggressively with the box. "Asshole."

"Matt, look-" on screen, Jeremy's character dies, and he tosses the controller onto the coffee table. "In my defense, Trevor did it."

"Oh no no, don't involve me in this." Trevor leans to the side, an apparent effort to make his character do the same. It doesn't work, and he dies too. "Fuck."

"Sounds great, but a little difficult on an empty fucking stomach." Matt says drily, hand on his hip. "You owe me a box of cereal, Jeremy."

"Matt, come here." Jeremy reaches toward him, but he doesn't move. "Matt please." He makes a grabby motion at him. With a heavy sigh, Matt extends his hand and allows himself to be pulled onto the couch. "Listen, why don't the three of us go out to eat, that way you're not eating cereal for dinner like an animal-"

“Well that’s just mean for no reason.”

“And on the way back I will buy you more cereal.” Jeremy finishes as though Matt hadn’t interrupted him.

Matt eyes him suspiciously, as though he’s waiting for the catch. He looks to Trevor as well, who holds up his hands in ‘I don’t know, I’m just here’. Finally, he nods. “Fine. But you’re paying for me.”

“Sure Matt.” Jeremy says with a patient smile. “I’ll buy you dinner too.”

“Hey Jeremy,” Trevor begins, resting his arm on Jeremy’s shoulder. “Since you’re throwing around cash like you have it, remember that time you tried to blame me for eating Matt’s cereal?”

“You mean literally three minutes ago?” Matt says, chuckling.

“You guys are the worst.” Jeremy leans back into the couch, crossing his arms firmly.

“Says the cereal thief.” Matt says with a pointed look at him.

Jeremy tries his best to stare back, to hold an intimidating, or at least neutral expression. He fails after approximately three seconds. He’s got Trevor giggling in one ear and Matt looking annoyed at him. Even the strongest man couldn’t do it, and he is few from strong when it comes to them. He breaks into a grin, and Matt shakes his head.

“Asshole.” But he looks away, and Jeremy knows he’s smiling too. That’s all he can ask for.

---

Matt wakes up to the sound of the bedroom door opening. He has had one arm wrapped around Jeremy’s waist, and he tightens his grip ever so slightly. If someone is here to kill them, he won’t be much of a defense, but it’s still his instinct to try and protect his best friend. He cracks one eye open to find that it is in fact Trevor in the doorway, finally getting home.

“Hey Trevor.” He says quietly, hoping not to wake Jeremy. It doesn’t work, and Jeremy shifts beside him, lifting his head to also peer at the door.

“Hey, you made it.” He mumbles, head falling back to the pillow.

“Yeah, I’m sorry I’m so late.” Matt hears the sound of Trevor dropping his keys and wallet into the dresser, and then the sound of the closet door. “You wouldn’t believe the shit that went down after you guys left.” 

“Hmm. Can’t wait to hear this. We’re all ears.” Despite his words, Jeremy turns himself toward Matt, curling into his chest. Matt rolls to his back, bringing Jeremy with him.

Trevor re-emerges from the closet, presumably in pajamas of some sort. He slips into bed beside Jeremy, and Matt makes his best effort to reach an arm toward him. “What happened?”

Trevor's hand finds his in the dark. “Just… remind me who put me in charge of Michael and Gavin?”

“That would be you and Geoff, I think.” Matt squeezes his hand gently. “At least you’re home now.”

“Yeah, barely. You know they somehow got involved in a three hour police chase?”

“Jesus Christ.” It’s not shocking by any means, and they’ve all certainly had worse, but still. The aftermath of Michael and Gavin chaos can be a real shitshow.

“They got away, obviously, but Jack and I are both thinking we lay low for a few days.” Trevor squeezes Matt’s hand one last time before pulling away, opting instead to curl himself around Jeremy.

“Makes sense to me.” Laying low may not be his favorite way to operate, but he trusts Trevor’s judgement. If he and Jack think it’s necessary, it must be. Odds are, it’ll be the three of them holed up in this apartment for a week, the rest of the crew in various homes across the city. 

“Wha-“ Jeremy shifts at the touch. “Shit, Trevor, I’m sorry, I missed all of that.”

Trevor only chuckles. “You’re good, man.” Matt feels Trevor’s hand slip between his chest and Jeremy’s. “Go back to sleep.” He hears Trevor press a kiss to Jeremy’s shoulder, followed by a fond, contented sigh.

Maybe laying low won’t be all bad. Boring, sure, but at least they’ll be together.

---

“You know I love you both to death, and I’ll support anything you guys want to do, but if you think that wall is structurally sound, I- I really don’t know how to help you.” Trevor is standing in the middle of the living room, one hand on his hip, pointing at two precariously leaned pillows.

“Alright, it’s not done yet-“ Matt begins, shooting him an exasperated look.

“Yeah, and we’ll thank you not to judge us until our vision is fully realized.” Jeremy says, voice monotone. Immediately, he breaks into a giggle. “God, can you imagine if I talked like that?” he picks up his beer from the coffee table, taking a long sip.

“See, I don’t like that because it really sounded like you were doing an impression of me.” Matt says, kneeling down next to the compromised pillow wall. He tries to adjust it slightly, and it collapses, taking three more pillows with it. “Shit.”

“I don’t wanna say I told you so, but…” Trevor trails off into laughter.

“Alright Mr. Fuckin Engineer,” Matt sits back and gestures broadly at the mess of pillows and blankets surrounding him. “You figure out how to give pillows integrity.”

“Well first off, don’t build walls out of pillows.” Trevor mutters, sitting cross legged beside Matt on the floor.

“Trevor, it’s a pillow fort.” Jeremy emphasizes, waving his beer around. “What are we supposed to use, concrete?”

“No,” Trevor says, squeezing the various pillows that have fallen, searching for the firmest ones. “but also don’t use the softest pillows we own as a base.” He takes the one he’s least satisfied with and chucks it in Jeremy’s direction, hitting him squarely in the chest.

“Trevor!” Jeremy stares at him incredulously, mouth slightly hanging open. “I did nothing to you!”

“Maybe that’s the problem.” Matt deadpans, and now Jeremy whips the pillow back at him.

The entire situation dissolves quickly from there, going from the very ambitious fort plan to an all out pillow war. It’s all obscenities and insults and laughter, pillows flying in all directions. Jeremy claims the couch, yelling something about height advantage and fairness. Trevor full on falls multiple times, trying desperately to jump over projectiles. It absolutely doesn’t work. Matt tries to take shelter under a blanket, which is a poor choice. The other two truce long enough to dogpile on him, and then they’re three idiots wrestling on the floor.

When they’re all tuckered out, they wind up just staying down there, constructing something that’s less pillow fort and more pillow nest. Regardless of what their original plan was, Trevor is inclined to think that this is better. Its nice to just have fun, be a little silly with the two people he loves most. He can’t think of a better way to spend a a Tuesday night.

[skinks]

aaaaaah that fic idea w little Richie and big Richie is SOOO cute and sad but in a good way... holy shit

thank you, yeah!! Can you imagine the chaos of the two of them in the same house? They’d decide early on that little Richie is Richie and big Richie is Rich, for lessening confusion’s sake and also because I’m actually moderately wealthy, you pocket-money scrounging little Dickensian waif, that’s why I’m Rich and you’re not.

Imagine how eager all the Losers would be to speak to him because Richie remembers so much and so many details they’ve forgotten because to him it was like, last week. And vice versa, he’d be so excited to see what they’re all up to

It IS cute but I keep making myself sad thinking stuff like, Rich trying to be responsible for this child but he wobbles and cracks a bit sometimes and asks Richie if it’s the blue or the red M&M’s Eddie refuses to eat, he can’t... remember.

Asks if Richie could tell him how picture day went in 6th grade when Richie fell into some nettles on the way to school and Eddie followed him in to drag him out, he loves that story.

Asks if... if Richie could do him a favour when he goes back, and tell Eddie the little model ship in a bottle he’s gonna start building in the fall is actually really cool, not a waste of time. Rich did think it was cool, he was just worked up about Eddie wasting time on anything that wasn’t him. He still remembers Eddie’s eager face dimming, and how the model sat unfinished and collecting dust on Eddie’s desk for as long as Rich could remember.

“I wish I hadn’t done it,” Rich says. “Listen, young padawan, when he shows you the thing you should make a joke about Master Bate and Roger the Cabin Boy, he’ll think it’s funny. Just don’t tell him it’s a waste of time, for some fuckin’ reason he always listened to us. Tell him you miss spending—no, don’t say that, he’ll feel bad and stop anyway. Just tell him... tell him, uh...”

Rich covers his eyes under his glasses. Richie picks nervously at his scabby knee, because knows what that gesture means. He’d know even without the aborted little noises hitching their way from the back of Rich’s throat.

“I’ll tell him, Obi-Wan. I mean, I’ll try to,” Richie says. He pats his big self awkwardly on the shoulder for a second, before heaving his biggest teenage sigh, extra groaning on the side. He goes on his knees on the couch and flings his arms around his own neck because fuck it, it’s literally just them, and who knows better than Richie how much he actually likes hugs.

“I’ll tell him, jeeze. Quit crying already, you gaylord, she’s hit an iceberg and she cannae take on much more water!”

Rich laughs with a sound like a drain unclogging and pats him equally awkwardly on the back. They’re so good at this. “You’re the gaylord.”

“I know you are but what am I?”

“The same fuckin’ thing, only I have pubes!”

Richie pulls back to slap at Rich’s old ugly-ass face, unshaven for a few days and his teary eyes all pink and wrinkled like baby mice. “Your mom has pubes!”

Rich shoves him easily right off the couch and onto the floor, but at least he’s laughing properly now. “She’s literally your mom too!”

“Shit, that’s right,” Richie says. He halts his faux-gagging and windmills himself back onto the couch. “I keep on forgetting old people can still have parents.”

Rich jams up his middle finger and blows a raspberry at the same time. It’s weak as comebacks go, but whatever, he’s geriatric. He hands Richie a game controller and settles into the lumpy mold his sad sack body has made in the far left couch section. “Fuck you, me. By which I really mean fuck me, right? Christ, that fucking turtle really loves teaching lessons through symbolism, huh.”

This supposed turtle comes up a lot, Richie doesn’t get it. He thinks maybe it’s another one of the google things. “I don’t understand whatever bullshit future stuff you’re saying right now. Pick a character.”

They destroy a couple of Mariokart stages with skills and trash talk. During a lull, Rich clears his throat and says, “Thanks, kid.”