#so that has to be balanced out with some dumbassery somewhere!!!

[feroluce]

Thinking today about Boothill falling first, but Dan Heng falling harder.

Like I think of Boothill as being pretty self-aware, so he knew it almost immediately. He pointed his gun at Dan Heng and the guy didn't flinch didn't hesitate didn't even get scared just stood there with his arms crossed and casually insulted Boothill like he couldn't have made the furniture of the Express an even brighter red with a single squeeze of his trigger finger. Boothill knew he was doomed before they even defeated Sunday, and it only got worse and worse, the longer they sat at that bar in the Reverie together. ♡

Meanwhile Dan Heng was raised in a prison cell with zero say over anything. He was considered a criminal and he was being punished. There wasn't exactly anyone encouraging his emotional intelligence. It didn't matter what he wanted, so thinking about his own wants/needs/feelings is something that just like. Doesn't occur to Dan Heng.

Like he IS slowly but surely figuring it out, and he still acts on stuff of course. He and Boothill share that sort of ruthless straightforwardness where they can see action -> result. Dan Heng knows that he doesn't want anything to happen to the Crew, so he guards them viciously. Action (guard person) -> result (person stays alive). But I think if you asked him, he'd have a hard time putting his feelings for them into words, "they're once-in-a-lifetime companions" is about as deep as you're going to get from him haha

Anyway, all this to say, I think that even if he already knew he liked Boothill romantically, when Dan Heng- who guards his chosen little flock like a herding breed or maybe a sheepdog with a coyote collar- sees Boothill do something protective, like literally take a bullet for March 7th

("It's fine, it ain't gonna hurt me near as bad as it woulda hurt you, missy. It's just another dent, quit yer fussin'.")

that is when it suddenly hits him like a brick that oh, oh no, he loves him.

[mishervellous]

could you write something light about them getting high together? 😊

anon!! this ask has been here for the longest time, I’m sorry for being so late with it! this is just some husbands dumbassery but I hope you enjoy it 💙

💨💨💨💨

When Ian opens his eyes, everything is upside down.

Wait—why is everything upside down?

Without thinking twice about it he goes to stand up, only to immediately eat absolute shit, and bang his forehead against the edge of the coffee table. “Fuck—!” He instinctively brings his hand up to his nose, checking for blood.

“Watch it.” Mickey says from somewhere in his vicinity—for some reason Ian is having trouble placing things in time, and space at the moment—, causing Ian to roll his eyes.

“Yeah, thanks for the heads up.” He finally manages to straighten up and—holy mother of God the room is spinning. Ian almost loses his balance as he finally realizes what position he just woke up in: upside down on the couch, legs draping on the back of it.

What the fuck happened last night?

Mickey grabs his arm before Ian can go crashing his already probably concussed head once more, helping him straighten up. When the room finally decides to chill the hell out, he looks over to where his husband is leisurely sitting down, feet propped up on the coffee table, and phone in hand.

“Why are we here?”

“At nine am on a sunday, Aristoteles? Chill out.”

“No, I mean—why are we on the couch? Why was I sleeping like that?” Ian lowers his head into his hands. He has the sneaking suspicion that he would’ve had a hammering headache regardless of the earlier blow to his head.

“You tell me.”

Mickey is definitely not helping. Realistically, nothing could be helping right now with how he’s feeling; with the way he wants nothing more than to go back to sleep for another twelve hours. Make that twenty.

But the fact that he can’t remember a thing from last night is bothering him way more than his tiredness is.

“I think I passed out yesterday.” Ian looks at his husband, and Mickey just raises his brows in a you think? way, without ever looking away from the screen. “What happened?” Still, Mickey doesn’t look at him. Ian frowns. Perks his ears up until he can hear sounds coming from Mickey’s phone. “What are you watching?”

Mickey glances at him for a brief second, eyes going back to the screen the next. “Nothing.”

Since Ian is terribly hungover but not fucking stupid, he inches closer towards him. “Bullshit.” Mickey’s clearly hiding something from him, with the way he scoots away the more Ian gets closer. “Lemme see.”

“I don’t think you wanna.” And now Mickey is suppressing a smirk.

Ian knows in his heart of hearts that whatever secret thing it is that Mickey’s watching has to do with him. Ian would also love to credit this understanding to a sixth sense of some sort, but it is being given away by his own voice coming through Mickey’s speakers.

What the fuck happened last night?!

“Fine, whatever.” Ian mutters, standing up with a loud groan. There goes the room, spinning like there’s no tomorrow again. He does his walk of shame towards the downstairs bathroom, massaging his lower back in the process.

When he opens the door, he almost has a heart attack right there on the spot.

“What the fuck?!” Two green eyes stare back at his own. He turns around towards the couch, a shocked expression on his face. “Why is there a cat in our bathroom?!”

Mickey’s answer is so casual, like he’s just conversing about the weather. “You stole it from that hag in 5C.”

“I stole—Mickey, what the hell?!” Ian almost screams, his own raised voice disturbing his own brain, and apparently the cat’s as well. He’ll bring it back to Mrs. Mourey as soon as possible, but he needs to know what the fuck happened last night first.

He beelines for the couch, sitting down on the coffee table, and tapping on Mickey’s knee. “You need to tell me what happened.”

Mickey looks at him. His eyes go back on the screen, and then back on him once again. He locks his phone, leaning back on the couch. “You really don’t remember?”

Ian groans, exasperated. “No.”

“Not even—,”

“No, Mickey. Not even anything.”

Mickey gives him a once-over. Smirks. “We smoked that new strand you wanted to try.”

Oh. To be fair, the guy that had sold it to him did warn him that it was some pretty strong shit. Ian didn’t think it would be Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind-strong though.

“And what? I just passed out?”

“Nah. You put on quite the show before that.”

Ian eyes the phone on Mickey’s lap. He’s starting to connect the dots, and Mickey knows it. “Did you take videos of me?”

“Aight, you making it sound weird.” Mickey rolls his eyes when Ian just keeps on glaring at him. “Look, you were saying the craziest shit. I had to.”

“You had to?” Ian is incredulous. Also a tad embarrassed. “Mickey, you let me steal a cat!”

“Ay, I was fucking high too, asshole! You went MIA for an hour and just came back with it. Motherfucker scared the shit out of me too.” He flips him off before going for his phone. Motherfucker decides to jump on the couch next to him then, curling up like nothing is wrong in the world. “I’ll delete them, so stop whining.”

Apparently, Ian’s on an epic quest to piece together the last twelve hours. “Lemme see them first.”

His husband just shrugs, patting the spot next to him (and Motherfucker). Ian complies, and joins him on the couch, eyes immediately going to the phone.

“You cool?”

“Just—play it already.”

“Bossy bitch.”

Mickey hits play.

💨 💨 💨 💨

The video opens with a shot of Ian intently staring at one of the walls of their bedroom. A couple of seconds of silence pass before Mickey pokes Ian’s thigh with his foot, making him move. His movements are as slow as a snail’s.

“You alright there?”

Ian nods. Like, a lot. For at least thirty seconds.

More silence.

“Mickey.”

Mickey hums.

“If we had sex in the forest, and no one was there to hear us, would that orgasm even happened?”

Silence. A chuckle from behind the camera. “Man, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“The one in the forest.” Ian looks dead serious, closing his eyes next. “Would that nut exist if no one was there to hear it?”

“Pretty sure my ass would be willing to take you to court and testify about it.”

“So, no. Non-existing nut.”

“Yes it fucking would.”

“No, but like—“ Ian snickers. “Hear me out, sshh. No one’s there to hear it.”

“Yeah, but I’m there to feel it.”

“It would be my word against yours.” Ian looks straight into the camera. “My dick’s word against your ass’ word. Ghost nut.”

A moment of silence.

They both start giggling.

“Man, you’re fucking gone.”

💨💨💨💨

When the video stops, there’s a lingering silence in the living room. He looks over at Mickey, and his husband looks just about ready to burst out laughing, but he’s doing a mighty job of containing himself.

“Ghost nut, huh?”

“Ghost nut.” Ian bites his lower lip. Okay, now he sees why Mickey would wanna keep dumb shit like that for posterity. “Apparently.”

Mickey scrolls forward, another video waiting for them.

“This one’s my favorite.”

Ian gulps.

💨💨💨💨

“And after all that we’ve been through, I will make it up to you!” Ian is standing on the coffee table, Bluetooth speaker in hand, and passion on his face. “I promise to!” He then dramatically throws it on the couch, and Mickey catches it from behind the camera with a huffed Jesus Christ.

Ian throws himself head first into the air guitar solo of a lifetime.

“Alright, Jimi Hendrix.”

“This song, I love this song! God, I love this song.” Ian sways left to right, in time with the music. “Can you believe that the city of Chicago wrote it?”

Mickey snorts. Lowers the volume. “It’s just the name of the band, dumbass.”

“No, no. They’re from Chicago. The mayor of Chicago.”

“Who’s the mayor of Chicago?”

Ian points at the camera, triumphantly. “Jon Bon Jovi!”

Mickey laughs from behind the camera. “Yeah? And who’s the president of the United States, Freddie Mercury?”

“No, dummy. He’s dead.” Ian shakes his head. “It’s, uh—what’s his face?”

“Rhymes with Donald.”

“Ronald.” Ian places his hands on his hips. “Ronald McDonald.”

“Alright, now you’re making me hungry.”

“I pledge allegiance to the Flurry.”

“McFlurry.”

“No one calls him that. That’s his dad, he’s just Flurry—Holy shit, I love this song! Turn it up!”

💨💨💨💨

“Yeah.” Ian murmurs, scrubbing his face. “Yeah, you need to delete these.”

Mickey snorts, scrolling forward. “Sure.”

“Wait, there’s more?!”

“You’ll like this one.”

Ian doubts that.

💨💨💨💨

“You know, Mick, I’ve been thinking about something.”

The angle is weirder in this one. Ian is laying on Mickey’s lap, tracing patterns in the air with his finger.

“‘Bout what?”

“I love you.”

Mickey hums. His hand is in the frame now, caressing Ian’s hair.

“I think we should get married.”

“We already are, dumbass.”

“No we aren’t.” Ian looks up at him. His expression brightens. Mickey must’ve shown him his ring off camera. “Wait, we are? For real?”

“Are you fucking serious? Do I need to take you to the ER?”

“No, I think I remember. Wait, I meant—we should get married again. Will you marry me, Mickey?”

Mickey jokingly plugs his nose. “Lemme circle back to you on that one.”

Ian laughs. His voice is nasally. “Mikhailo Alejandro Milkovich—,”

“—shut the fuck up with that—,”

“—will you be my husband?”

A beat of silence. “Dumbass.”

💨💨💨💨

“And then you disappeared and returned with the cat.” Mickey locks his phone, throwing it on the other side of the couch, and startling Motherfucker in the process.

Okay, he has to admit: he did like that last one.

A little more sober, and with the mystery of last night finally solved, he looks over at Mickey.

Mickey looks back. Frowns. “What?”

“You didn’t answer.”

Somehow, Mickey manages to frown harder. “Answer what?”

Ian nods towards the now forgotten phone. “Will you marry me?”

When it clicks, Mickey just rolls his eyes. He gets a soft smile on his face, bumping his shoulder into Ian’s. “Go return the fucking cat and I’ll think about it.”

Ian chuckles. Fair enough.

[hivequest]

Taking a Risk » Mallek Adalov/Reader

Wordcount: 2.3k words

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, stressed out reader, chillboy Mallek. TYping quirk only used when texting cause I could not be bothered lmao Originally posted on AO3

A/N: One of my favorite things that I’ve written, ever. I love Mallek and he’s for sure one of my favorite Friendsim characters. When I wrote this I was really feeling those Quarantine Woes

You didn't know what you were doing here. You felt out of place in the worst possible ways. It was a weird, squidgy feeling like stepping on wet grass. But not like the fun kind where you were running around in a sprinkler on a hot-as-balls summer day. No, this was the bad kind of wet grass that you stepped on without knowing it was wet. Why weren't you wearing shoes?

This analogy is stupid. The point is, you're feeling bummed out.

And what better way to not have to deal with that than hang out with someone you knew wouldn't push you into talking about all the ways crashing on this planet sucked! The point is, you're on your way to see Mallek. Mallek is absolutely the kind of friend who can tell when you just need to sit down and veg out. You had been so caught up in everyone else's bullshit that you weren't looking after your own damn self. So now you were doing that.

All it took was a quick text, asking Mallek if he had any company. He texted back only a moment later with a no, obviously not. You asked him if he wanted any. Not really. You ask him if you can come over anyway. Obviously.

You smiled at the palmhusk in your, well, palm. You could already feel the chill vibes of your hacker friend. Friend? Was that the right word for it? You didn't know anymore. When you first met there were definitely some sparks there. You could still feel them now and it made weird butterflies flutter around in your stomach. When you slapped his phone out of his hand and he sent you ass over applecart into the slimy depths of sewer water and he saved you, tits out and all.

You shook off the weird wistful feeling of maybe possibly crossing the friendship barrier and told him you'd walk to his hive. You'd been moping in some bookhive, not your usual hang-out spot with Tagora or Tyzias. This was some upper caste bookhive with purple bloods and some indigos and definitely not where you were welcome if the looks you were getting were any indication. They ranged from snooty to downright murderous. Yeesh.

Your phone -palmhusk, stupid troll names- beeped again. You got another text from him and those cheery fucking butterflies were back. God, you had it bad.

yeah were not doing that lmao;

im not going to let my robobuddy walk out in the sun

do you even know what time of day it =

just stay put ive already got your location ill pick you up;

And like a good little friendsimp. You park your ass on a chair and wait. You hadn't released your moping had taken up most of the night. But with the quick look around, yeah, no, this place was nearly empty by now. Just some older bluebloods trying to cram before their Ordeals and get shipped off-planet. Again: Yeesh.

You kept your ears open for the telltale sound of Mallek's limo. It was a sound you were getting used to these days. He always seemed ready to drop whatever coding shit he was working on to come to see you. You tried not to think too hard on what that might mean. No need to get your hopes up now. It's probably just your bad mood making you imagine some context where there's nothing. Yeah.

Damn, that shit hurted.

Just as you were about to add that to the reasons you were considering just screaming your lungs out who cares whose listening? you heard the wonderfully familiar sound of an approaching elongated scuttlebuggy. If that wasn't enough of a clue as to who the ride was for the quiet of the bookhive was very abruptly disturbed by a series of rhythmic beeps.

Holy shit was that the Tetris theme?

You shoved your palmhusk into your hoodie pocket and yanked the hood over your head. Even if the sun was only out a little bit you didn't want it anywhere near your freshly healed skin. You had no kind cowgirl to nurse you back to health right now if you got your asscheeks baked by the flaming death orb. You peeked your head out and even with the blinding light of Alternia's suns you could Mallek had opened the door and was waiting for you.

Aw. No, shit. You're in a bad mood don't get all heart eyes at him. Don't make it weird.

You took a few steps back into the bookhive, ready to make a run for it. You turn to a sitting indigoblood, who is just staring at you disdainfully for keeping the door open. You give her a two-fingered salute. Godspeed young cosmonaut. She gives you a one-fingered salute. Close the door you insufferable bulgebiter. Fair.

Taking a running start, you book it out into the heat of the Alternian sun and dive for the open car door. It's then that you realize he's halfway parked on the sidewalk to lessen the amount of time you'd have to spend in the sun. Aw. That also means that you came barreling like a cannonball at something that was like two feet out of the door. FUck.

Your face meets carpet and you can already feel the rugburn starting to set in. You hear a startled wheezy laugh from above you, a sound you know better than anyone else on this planet. You smile. It's not like you had any dignity to begin with.

You say hello to him as you peel yourself off of the floor of his car.

"Hey, there robobuddy. You stuck the landing this time," He smiles down at you as he reaches over you to shut the door, closing the space out from natural light and leaving you both lit by his colorful LEDs. You shrug and tell him you've been getting a lot of practice landing on your face these days. The look he gives you is still smiling but there's some level of disbelief at the dumbassery that is your whole existence.

"I know you can get yourself into it. Nothing too bad this time, though, right? No drones or broken bones?" He sounds concerned which is nice but he doesn't drown you with his concern. He leans back on the bench of his limo, keeping an eye on you as the vehicle begins to move on its own. You've been staying out of big messes but the little messes are starting to mess with you. He makes a sound of understanding the sounds as it comes from deep in his chest. Whoa. "Believe me, I've been there. Glad you're not cracking under it though."

He smiles and you can see his little fang and you can feel your heart melt a little. And also you're getting a bit teary-eyed and now Mallek looks alarmed. Shit. You try to quickly explain that you're fine, just, alien allergies am I right? He must be using some new air freshener to mask the musty smell of his limo. Since doesn't use it enough. Ha ha?

He isn't buying it.

With a rare show of cerulean prowess, he lifts you up off of the shitty car rug and sets you on the seat beside him. He feels uncomfortable and you can tell. Ah, goddammit you made it weird. You didn't mean to. Fuck. Fuck now you're feeling even worse. You thought you were starting to balance out. You're with Mallek now, shouldn't everything start to quiet down like it always does? Fuck. He doesn't say anything at first, just leans back against the seat and stretches his arms across it, letting you lean on him if you choose to.

...You choose to.

Your head finds itself somewhere between his shoulder and his collarbone, and you just. Shove your face there. Then scream.

To his credit, Mallek doesn't even flinch. He doesn't wince or shy away from you as you let out every bit of anger, sadness, and frustration out against his sweater. He just sits quietly, staring straight at the blacked-out windshield. You get the feeling he's needed to do this more than once.

Screw this planet. Screw everything about it that makes all of your friends suffer. Why can't you just get them away from all this bullshit?! Why do you have to deal with everyone's bullshit! You love them, you do but holy fuck they're looking to you like you can undo all the damage this place has done to them when you've got literally no god damn idea what's happening at any point ever!

And then, just like that, it fades into the background. Your throat hurts. Your head hurts and you think you might be crying. But it feels lighter. Better now that you've gotten some of that aggression out. You aren't like the trolls on Alternia. You can't kill people when you experience an Emotion™. But that doesn't mean you don't get pent up with rage.

Mallek realizes that now. He lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding and his left hand slowly moves down from the back of the seat the rest against your back. His thumb brushes against your back, the claw drawing little patterns against the fabric of your sweater. His sweater. He tries not to think his sign your chest. This isn't the time.

"Feeling any better?" He asks and you don't know how to answer. You kinda don't want to. But you nod anyways, and you feel some tension leave his body. You knew he was worried about you. You apologize for making him witness your meltdown but he just makes another deep-chested hum. "Nothing to apologize for. I got the feeling you weren't feeling great. I could tell from the texts, you didn't use nearly enough ugly emojis."

You scoff and smack a hand against his chest and once again you hear that wonderful laugh from him. Hey! Your purrbeast emojis are adorable, thank you very much! And you'll not hear another word of it or else you'll send him pictures of rocks and rocks exclusively. No more memes.

"Jokes on you I'm into that shit." You laugh and thump your head against his collarbone. You thank him for being with you when were needed it. And picking you up to make sure you didn't deal with it alone. You don't want to make it weird but...yeah.

He doesn't respond this time, just letting you both enjoy the silence and the comforting sound of the engine. You should almost be at Mallek's apartment by now. It's as you're settling in for the last bit of the drive that you notice that the limo isn't moving. And hasn't been for a while. Your head pops up in confusion and the little GPS display on the back of one of the seats says... yep.

You're already at Mallek's.

But then why is the engine still on? That can't be good for the environment. Do these things even run on gas or is it bugs? Bug gas? Gross.

You notice then that the rumbling is coming from behind you. Like. From where Mallek is sitting. He doesn't look away when you turn to him, just kind of tilting his head to the side with a little bit of a cerulean hue to his cheeks. Oh. Oh, the sound is coming from him. He's purring. That's.

That's adorable.

You feel yourself soften even more when he lifts his arms, silently offering a hug if you want it. Is this platonic? Is this more? You've never had too much trouble identifying what people wanted from you. (Debatable.) If was overtly flushed you could shut it down or divert it to something very much friends only. (Like your every exchange with Zebruh.) But did you even want to do that to your hackerman? You could feel yourself screaming, no, absolutely not. But at the same time, you didn't want things to change. You didn't want to make his issues any worse than they already were. He didn't have too much longer on the planet and you knew it would tear him apart.

But then he turned those blue eyes to you. He looked just as unsure as you were but he was willing to take the risk. He shoved himself so far out of his comfort zone for you and was asking you to be selfish. To want something for yourself and do something for yourself. Not put him or anyone else's wants first. Just your own. And so you did.

You crawled up into his lap, pressed yourself as close to him as you could and clung to him. His arms didn't hesitate to wrap around you and you could feel a shuddering breath from above you.

"We don't have to put a label on this... not yet. Or ever. Either way is chill with me. I just... yeah." He gave up with a little shrug of his shoulders but you knew what he meant. Unless you could find a way to fight fate he was going to go off-world. He was going to leave you and you doubted you'd be able to go with him. You'd probably get gored by a drone for even trying.

But even if it was just for now, just for a moment, you were going to take it. You were going to let yourself have something, have someone who would care for you no matter how long or short your time was. You'd take it. You had stomached some of the most horrible things on this planet but Mallek had always been a constant. And you got the feeling he thought the same way about you.

So, you'd take it. Whatever comes next, you'd take it. You listened to the sound of his purring, in no hurry to move to get inside the apartment. Mallek felt the same.

You exhaled.

You would be okay.