#Literally gonna fight him if his hair ain’t look so greasy

[crippling-pages]

A complaint I have for the final episodes and stuff is about the circle thing Ford made.

Why they heck is Robbie there??? What has he done?? He literally was beefing with a 12 year old for most of the time he was one screen. I’m sorry but we should have one of the officers there or something. Not Robbie

[draconica]

Oooo, for the writing prompt, a little 7+4+1? Or just one, I might be a little greedy 😖🤣

7: Engagement sex 4: Petnames 1: Spicing things up in the bedroom

I made it work, anon   ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

I also headcanon Ellis can be a powerbottom so enjoy that

When Ellis returned home from the shop one warm evening, he was humming softly to himself. There was a sly smile to his features as he gently jostled the plastic bag he had brought home. There was no groceries or anything that mundane inside. No, there was something very special inside of this particular carrier.

“Niiick?” he crooned in the hope that his boyfriend was home, and in the mood. Now, he was home, but as Ellis turned the corner into the living room he was met with a sight he wasn't quite expecting to see.

Nick was stood in a black suit - a proper, swanky, three-piece number – and holding a red rose. A soft song was playing on their stereo system, and the lights were turned down low. He had definitely been stood here for some time, waiting for Ellis to return home, and Ellis dropped his smile briefly. The gambler was smooth as silk at the best of times, but this was unexpected.

“Welcome home, sweet peach,” Nick led with, making Ellis blush – that damn pet name of his. “You good?”

Ellis scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, I'm jus' fine,” he smiled, setting down his bag for now, and gesturing to Nick as he took a step towards him. “What's this for?”

In a second, Nick's smile slipped a little, arching his brow. “...You forgot, didn't you?” He rolled his eyes, but that smile soon came right back as he stepped forward also, closing the gap between them and offering him the rose. “July 12th? The day we got out of quarantine?” Nick chuckled, leaning in closer and making it more personal. “The day we moved in together, made the new place official?”

A million thoughts swarmed Ellis's head at that point, taking the rose and knowing he was absolutely overcome with blushes. “O-oh… damn, I guess I did forget,” he giggled, tilting his head a little as his boyfriend leered closer. Even now, Nick was still the most damn attractive man he'd ever met, let alone dated. “M'sorry, darlin', just had a lot on my mind, I guess?” he shrugged.

Nick seemed to understand, nodding once before pulling Ellis in for a kiss. “It's all good, sport. You can make it up to me later. But for now...” he turned and clicked a remote in love control, turning down the music a touch, before his hand returned to where it belonged – holding his lover's.

“Ellis,” he began, looking down at his thumb caressing the back of El's hand. “It's been a hell of a ride to get here, huh? Fighting for our lives every day in the apocalypse, a year of quarantine, and now three years of living together. Before the Green Flu, I was at my lowest point. I… well, wouldn't be alive if I hadn't met you. The zombies were a distraction, but you were a reason to live. You mean the Goddamn world to me, Fireball, and I want to spend every day by your side. So… I have one question for you.” Ellis watched on, mouth dropping, as his boyfriend got down on one knee and produced a velvet box containing a thick silver ring. In the center, there was set a dark blue gemstone. “Ellis, mi tesoro, will you marry me?”

Needless to say, Ellis had not been expecting this today, and that was obvious given the absolute astonishment on his face at that moment. It almost made Nick want to laugh, but he was slightly too nervous for that.

Thankfully, Ellis broke into his lop-sided, brilliant Southern smile. “You sly sumbitch,” he chuckled. “Hell yeah, I'll marry ya!”

The gambler got to his feet, immediately bringing his lover closer into his arms with an unbreakable smile. The ring was a perfect fit onto Ellis's fourth finger, something else that Nick had been worried about, but seeing how snugly it sat made the older man's heart swell. “I love you, Overalls.”

“Love you, too, darlin',” Ellis responded as he brought Nick's face in for a kiss... and then another... and then his arms were around Nick's neck. Any distance between them was suddenly gone.

It wasn't unusual for their kisses to get out of hand, certainly in their earlier days where it seemed like sex was on the table every day (not literally, except for a few times Ellis can remember where they'd gotten adventurous…). That's when Ellis remembered what was in the bag he had brought home. Well, now he had no choice but to surprise his lover with its contents.

By now, Nick's kisses had moved to the mechanic's neck, and Ellis couldn't suppress a shiver as he found his favorite spot just below his ear. Many a hickey had been placed there before, and it was near-enough a certainty that he'd be getting a new one tonight.

“Nick,” he whispered, shifting his hand through the hustler's hair and smiling when he caught sight of the shiny new engagement ring on his finger. “Take me to the bedroom.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Nick chuckled before tightening his grip around Ellis's waist and hoisting him up, causing the younger man to gasp against his lips. “You don't have to tell me twice.”

Of course, Nick couldn't possibly carry Ellis up a whole staircase and into said bedroom. He wasn't a young man anymore, after all. Not that Ellis minded – it actually gave him a chance to grab the bag he'd brought home. Nick gave him an odd look as he did so, but his young fiancé had simply smiled, told him not to worry about it with a pat to the cheek.

Once they both stepped into the bedroom together, Ellis set the bag down once more and brought Nick into more kisses, having missed them in the thirty seconds they had stopped.

“How long were ya plannin' that for?” asked Ellis curiously as he slipped the black tie from Nick's neck, smiling at him.

Nick shrugged a little. “Few months,” he admitted. “Knew I wanted to marry you someday, seemed like the anniversary of getting out of that Goddamn pandemic was a good time.”

Ellis was now working on those pesky shirt buttons, granting him access to that chest hair he loved so much on Nick. “Romantic as usual,” he mused. “Gotta be honest… I was plannin' a lil' somethin' for us tonight, too. Nothin' big like askin' ya to marry me, so kinda puts my gesture in the shade.”

“Don't be modest, sweet peach,” Nick chuckled, allowing Ellis to remove his suit jacket and leave it on the floor – something he usually gets very picky about.

“Well...” Ellis slipped Nick's belt from his pants, and was pleased at the choice his lover had made – a black leather strap. Yes, this'll do nicely. “I know you like bein' in control 'n all, but I wanna show ya how we ride in the South.”

That piqued the gambler's interest, not in the least because Ellis was looping the belt around his hand, pulling it taught for Nick to see, and something about the sight was enough to set his erection at full mast.

“Ace...” he paused, needing to wet his lips when he found his mouth suddenly dry. “Do I get a say in this?”

“You certainly get to pick the safe word,” mused the mechanic, shifting his weight slightly on his hips as he played with the leather strap some more.

Nick must've been mad, or at least deeply in love, as he decided to shift control over to his little fiancé for the night. “All right,” he conceded, stepping out of his pants which, with lack of support, had pooled onto the floor. “Where do you want me, sugar?”

The mechanic's grin spread further up his cheeks. He led Nick over to their king-sized bed and sat him down. “Now, you go ahead and make yourself comfortable, mister gamblin' man, and I'll go slip outta these here greasy clothes.” With a little canter to his steps, he grabbed the bag once more and headed to their en-suite bathroom, shooting a look over his shoulder. “Recommend losing those there briefs, too. Won't be needin' them at the rodeo.” And with that, he disappeared into the next room, door shutting slowly behind him.

Nick had always been good at following instructions, and Ellis's were about as subtle as a sledgehammer to the face. So, as he stripped himself down completely and got comfortable, he took the time while Ellis was gone to think about some of the more memorable trysts in their relationship.

There was the very first time which had been during the apocalypse. It had been rough and hurried, considering they had just escaped death by the skin of their teeth, and it was more a carnal desire of the most basic of human instincts. Ellis had almost alerted a horde with how loud he'd been.

There was another time, during quarantine, where love had for the first time been entered into the equation. Namely, the first time they had said 'I love you' to each other. Nick had topped then, too. And he wasn't a picky partner by any means – after all, Ellis was young and full of testosterone, and sometimes he needed to fuck just as much as anyone else. Nick had come to enjoy bottoming, absolutely, but he was more or less the one in charge on most nights. Ellis never complained; quite the opposite, in fact. Nick was still lost in thought when suddenly the bathroom door opened at last, revealing Ellis in his attire for the evening: Nothing but a cowboy hat (and one engagement ring).

“Howdy,” he drawled as he leant against the door frame, still playing with Nick's belt in his hands. “Heard there was a no-good city slicker that I needed to take good care of. Assumin' that's you, handsome?”

Nick couldn't' help but smirk up at him, raising an eyebrow. Ellis was unbelievably adorable, especially whenever he was making effort to please him. That included… this. “Goddamn it, Ace,” he shook his head. “Didn't think this was how my night was gonna go.”

Ellis shot him an amused look, then slipped right back into character. “I'm the best darn rodeo rider this side'a Georgia,” he boasted, sauntering closer to the bed. “Ain't no wild stallion I can't tame. So, reck'n you'll be my best ride yet.” The mechanic reached into the bedside drawer to fetch the lube, and took a moment to stand beside the bed, looking over his naked lover. “Safe word?” he asked.

Nick nodded up at him. “Witch.”

Ellis frowned. “Damn, Nick, really? All the words in the entire American language and you had to pick one that reminds me of the time you almost got yourself killed?”

“You almost got me killed,” retorted the hustler, squinting at him. “You're the one who spooked the bitch.” But he shook his head, letting a smile return to his red face. “Fine. Safe word is 'wedding'.”

With a roll of his eyes, Ellis blushed a little as he set the lube down on the table for now. “Good 'nough for me.” Slipping back into character once more, the Southerner crawled his way onto the bed and straddled his lover, halfway up his chest, at one point his erection bobbing near Nick's face. The gambler just watched on with hungry eyes. “Now then… one thing I know about tamin' the wilder beasts is that they need to be trained, sometimes with force.” Ellis looped the leather belt around Nick's neck gently, watching the older's green eyes for any signs of discomfort or fear. There was nothing but trust, and a lot of hunger.

Ellis cinched the belt, not tightly, but enough for Nick to feel the presence of his around his throat. With a twist of his hand, Ellis curled the leather around his wrist and tested the length. There was plenty to work with, and he grinned. “Damn, look at'chu, city boy.” Ellis backed up his hips, grinding himself backwards onto Nick's cock, and watching in triumph as Nick's eyelids fluttered slightly. “I think I'm gonna really enjoy ridin' you.”

The helpless gambler chuckled as he rested his hands on Ellis's thighs, watching those hips move back and forth and craning his neck back a little. A moan almost made it's way out of his mouth, but not quite. Ellis had to try harder. “You're getting more into the kinky sex, Overalls,” he smiled, throwing in a wink. “I'll take credit for that.”

With a tilt of his head, Ellis's hand pulled back, tightening the belt a little like pulling on the leash of a disobedient dog. Nick gasped beneath him, moaning in the afterthought, which made the cowboy grin. “You speak outta turn like that again and you'll be in the doghouse,” he threatened. Reaching over to the nightstand, he took the open tube of lubricant and squirted the thick liquid onto two fingers. The look in his baby blue eyes was so very kinky, and Nick could feel his cock give a twitch in appreciation as he pictured what Ellis was about to do with those fingers.

Picking up the belt once more with his clean hand, those fingers then went behind Ellis, slipped between his cheeks and found his pucker. The younger man was a dab hand at prepping himself, and knew his own body inside and out. While he worked his magic, he moaned aloud and reintroduced his bucking hips back into the mix. The sight was amazingly erotic, and Nick couldn't resist reaching over to play with Ellis's neglected dick. Ellis, for the most part, seemed to allow it, even bucking up again into the gambler's grasp.

“You're thinkin' about it now, aren't ya, city boy?” Ellis chuckled with an open-mouthed grin. “Thinkin' about me ridin' ya real good, getting' ya all hot 'n bothered...” He leant in slightly, pulling once more on Nick's restraint until the man was a little closer. “Thinkin' about how fuckin' good I'm gonna feel around your cock once I'm wet n' ready?”

That accent was so thick, deep with lust, and it was driving Nick crazy. The gambler gave a groan, just as the belt loosened again and allowed him is breath back. His head fell back to the pillow, already seeing a black fuzz around his vision. “God… sweet peach…”

“Yes, my darlin'?” Ellis crooned, by now with three fingers knuckle deep inside of himself.

“Ple…” Nick panted as he closed his eyes. “Please.”

That was all Ellis needed to hear. With another lop-sided smile, the mechanic shifted until he was kneeling and scooted back a little on Nick's body. He kept a keen eye on his fiancé's face, even as he reached behind, took Nick's cock in hand, and slipped himself down onto it like he'd done it a hundred times before.

The card shark grunted and turned his head a little, and Ellis could hear a shift behind him as Nick moved his legs. His feet was planting themselves onto the mattress and knees bending up, in order to provide him with the leverage he needed. Ellis leant back, slipping down further onto Nick's cock while at the same time resting against Nick's thighs like a back rest. He was grateful for that.

“How about that?” Ellis nearly sang as he shifted on Nicolas's lap. “You're bein' a good boy after all.”

Nick said nothing, just looked up at his Southern lover with a smile on his face, throwing in a wink for good measure. Ellis chuckled and wrapped the belt once more around his wrist for another harsh tug, at the same time, lifting his hips and slamming back down in a harsh bounce. The leather crackled in his grip, and Nick drew another breath. His face was getting redder. “El,” he managed, grinding out the noise, and Ellis was careful to make sure he had enough air to speak, should his next breath utter the safe word.

“Giddy up,” purred the cowboy, reaching up to hold his hat before beginning his ride. Putting all his power to his thighs, up and down Ellis's hips went as he bounced away. The sweetest moans left his throat – couldn't rightly help it, as Nick had always been the best lay of his life.

Nick's hands found their way to Ellis's hips, gripping him there and guiding him on and off his dick. In no time at all, Ellis was fully into the sex, letting go of his hat to reach back and steady himself on Nick's knee as he continued to ride him hard.

“Fuck yeah,” Nick murmured to himself as he gazed up at the scene Ellis was blessing him with. He groaned soon afterwards, craning his neck, and smiled up at his lover. “The belt… please… fuck...”

Ellis grinned and slowed his thrusts down a little in order to tug the belt once more, harsher and tighter than previously. Nick's knuckles went white around Ellis's hips.

“Look at ya… enjoyin' yourself so much,” Ellis praised and drove his hips down once more, grinding back on Nick's length. “C'mon, city boy, you know you wanna come inside'a me...”

Nick could hear the blood rushing around his head, fell the pleasure begin to whirlpool around his cock, and did the only thing he knew he could do. He moved a hand to Ellis's dancing erection and gave him a tight sleeve to fuck into, watching with watering eyes. The Southerner groaned and dropped the leather strap in favor of bracing both hands on Nick's legs, rocking himself like crazy. The gambler drew a gasp of air, Ellis threw his head back, and then it all went white.

“NICK!” Ellis broke character at the last minute to shout his fiancé's name in orgasm. He spilled semen all up Nick's chest and some managed to hit his chin. The sight was erotic enough to send the older man tumbling off the precipice himself, filling Ellis up until he was overflowing. Ellis moaned and lifted himself off for the last time, feeling warm liquid seep down the insides of his thighs.

With a sigh, Ellis leant forward and braced his hands on Nick's shoulders to prevent himself from falling atop him. The cowboy hat fell from his head and onto the floor beside the blunt end of the belt. The mechanic looked up at last, seeing Nick with his eyes closed and drawing in large breaths. He blushed as he reached up to carefully removed the leather from his neck, letting it clatter to the carpet.

“Darlin'?” Ellis whispered as he lifted himself off of Nick, in the process grabbing some tissues in order to clear them both up. “Nick.”

Nick opened his eyes at last, letting them fall onto his cute young lover as he grinned. “Even after all these years...” He reached out to cup El's cheek, rubbing his thumb there. “...you still surprise me, Overalls.”

Once the necessary clean-up had been finished, Ellis crawled back onto the bed and cuddled right up to his gambler, running his hand through his fine chest hair. “Glad you enjoyed the show, Nick.” He looked down, admired the ring still snugly on his finger. “Yeah, not quite how you pictured your night goin', huh?”

“No, sir,” agreed Nick and moved his hand up to lace their fingers together. “But if this is how the rest of my life is gonna go, I think I'm okay with that.”

With a short laugh, Ellis reached up to kiss him, rubbing his thumb along Nick's jaw. “Love you, city boy.”

[toutallyahoe]

Hey, it me, a dumb sleeby bitch. I know you're not taking requests. So I'm gonna leave this at your doorstep and if you ever want to do it, go for it. No pressure. But pls if you ever have time and motivation, could you give me some cute sleepy headcanons for any of our very good cowboys? Thanks in advance and I love you and everything you do. You're amazing.

i would literally write a fucking book for you-- i have told you this so many already asdfghjkl

but ya want some of the good boahs and some cute sleepy headcanons? BOI I AM IN!

also, before i continue-- CALL YERSELF DUMB BITCH AGAIN AND I WILL gently KICK YER ASS and hug you to death because ya ain't dumb or else i am more dumber than a fucking rock you sweet, talented smort, beautiful fecker!

AND ANOTHER THING !!! *sobs* HOW CAN YE DO THIS TO ME?!? SHOOTING ME WITH A SURPRISE COMPLIMENT-- ACK ME HEART! I FEEL M U S H ASDFGHJKKLXNBSOHD

okay, i calmed down now... onto the headcanons! btw, multiple characters because ya didn't specify who you want in this headcanon and because i knew yer beautiful ass would like more than one boah

⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃

Arthur Morgan

• first off, best boah right here

• second off, this bitch won't admit he is sleepy even if his life depends on it

• is it pride???

• probably...

• definitely

• i dont know, i see Arthur as one to not really say anything he feels because he doesn't want to be a bother or thinks he'll be a dead weight

• because life as an outlaw? it ain't really the best life

• so, when there are jobs that takes a few days and he volunteers to take watch, Arthur won't admit he is tired and would continue on be on guard no matter how many times he is asked to get his ass some rest

• it'll be a pain in the ass if you aren't patient enough or very worried about him

• because knowing Arthur, he'll just suck it up

• so, if he is sleepy, his [Name] is on his ass immediately

• "you need rest"

• "don't need nothin"

• he IS stubborn as fuck

• and also incredibly more sassier when he is sleepy

• it honestly sometimes annoy [Name]

• "Arthur, you look like you're goin to pass out-- jesus christ! just rest already!"

• Arthur is too stubborn for his own good

• and it sometimes lead to some arguments really

• but [Name] will be the first to give up when he just sees Arthur and sighs

• [Name] will sit by his side and just talk about stuff

• trying to make Arthur relax and at ease

• he'll be sassy at first but will ease up and comment genuinely

• Arthur will then unconsciously place his head on his [Name]'s shoulder as the [Hair color] haired man's voice drowns his thoughts with stories of the past (either his or [Name]'s past)

• before you know it, Arthur "sleep is for the dead" Morgan is fucking asleep

• [Name] notices how quiet Arthur and will turn his head to see the outlaw asleep

• [Name] just smiles at Arthur and place his head on Arthur's and let a content sigh as he close his eyes

• they'll be fine sleeping for a bit

John Marston

• best greasy dumbass raccoon looking ass bitch

• but-- ahem

• like Arthur, John will be stubborn at first

• it's pride and John doesn't want to get babied really

• he already gets that enough from the rest of the gang since he is a real life predatory bait and gets mauled by a lot of animals

• honestly, this man has the shittiest luck

• but also lucky in some way...?

• but yeah... ANYWAYS

• when John gets tired, he is functioning with no braincells (like he doesn't already)

• [Name] is honestly tired with it

• just fucking glaring the shit outta that greasy raccoon boi

• then maybe...just maybe, you can get him to rest his greasy ass

• John will be a bit of a whiny bitch to be honest

• like, he'll whine he ain't sleepy

• but as if it was on cue, he'll yawn

• John looking a bit embarrassed and [Name] looking at him with that "really?" look

• [Name] ain't dealing with yer bullshit raccoon boi

• i can definitely see [Name] restraining John from running away and carry the guy to his tent and slam his in the cot and glare and order John to stay and sleep like a damn dog

• John would be honestly pissed because DAMN IT [NAME]! YA HAVE TO DO THAT IN FRONT OF EVERYONE?!? ARTHUR AND SEAN AIN'T GOING TO LIVE THIS DOWN (because those two are bastards... lovable bastards though asdfgghjkl)

• but also turned on but pfft-- he won't admit that

• but yeah, [Name] just sitting on the side of his bed and will not leave until he makes sure John rest

• "you ain't leavin, are you?"

• "i aint leavin till i see yer ass sleep, Marston"

• yikes, getting called his by his last name? usually his [Name] does that when he is annoyed or angry at time

• that when John know he ain't getting out of this

• "aight... fine! i'll sleep! happy?"

• "very"

• to be honest, John feels happy when [Name] does that

• it's because this is how his [Name]'s care for him and it is sweet

• a bit annoying but sweet

• John sleeps and [Name] softly sighs and place a soft kiss on John's forehead and leaves the tent to do his work

Leonard "Lenny" Summers

• pure child

• pure child who can never do anything wrong

• just, this fucking boah is pure child who can never do anything wrong and y'all can fight me is ya say he aint

• ANYWAYS

• Lenny is adorable when he is sleepy

• just utterly adorable as fuck and his [Name] just smiles at how cute he is

• like, Lenny is reading a book under a tree and the day was just a lovely day despite it being so fucking boring

• Lenny planned to read but as the calm breeze pass by him, it didn't take long for Lenny to be yawning and his eyelids dropping but the young man is trying so hard to fight the sleep off and stay awake

• honestly, [Name] saw Lenny sleepy but being too stubborn to admit defeat with sleep will try to stay awake

• [Name] is just amused by it and found it adorable

• always adorable with Lenny

• but anyways, Lenny would be one of the submissive out of everyone if you ask him to go to sleep when he is tired

• will literally not fight back on it because his mind shuts down from the sleepiness

• honestly? will act like a baby

• because he is a baby and [Name] loves him so much and spoils him

• "come on Lenny, let's get ya to yer cot"

• "hmmm, [Name]? can you carry me there... please?"

• just adorable akdbjqjdjsjfjjsjd

• me baby

• aNYWAYS

• Lenny is just a good boah

• like, he gives up rather quickly because he knew his [Name] is looking out for him and besides, if he says yes? he gets cuddles

• so yeah, that's good for him

• Lenny gets warm cuddles and sleeps well in the arms of his [Name] who holds him very close and just being soft boahs

Sean MacGuire

• loud and dumb irish bastard who stole me heart

• i adore him asdfghjkl

• but ON TO THE HEADCANONS

• Sean is a whiny loud ass bitch when he is sleepy

• he acts like he seems drunk

• and it is both hilarious and tiresome for [Name] because he is the one dealing with this shit

• i can see Sean just clinging to his [Name] and yelling on the top of his lungs on how tired he was

• and his [Name] rubbing his temple and tell Sean to get to bed then

• "[Name]! there ye are ye beautiful fecker! i have been looking all over fer ye"

• "and why is that?"

• "i'm sleepyyy"

• "then rest Sean"

• "but i dont want to!"

• honestly acts like a kid

• a loud ass bratty kid...

• it's not even cute

• kinda

• okay, [Name] finds it adorable but he ain't telling no one shit because he already suffers from a sleepy Sean who acts like a drunk toddler

• he doesn't want to deal with everyone teasing him on being soft with his drunk toddler lover

• but yeah

• like John, i can definitely see [Name] try to restrain this dumb bastard

• probably had to hoagtie Sean if i had to be honest

• which may or may not have the sleepy minded Sean blurt out something that made [Name] exasperatedly sigh and a bit flustered

• because-- goD DAMN IT SEAN! stop being a thirsting bastard for a bit and get some sleep?!?

• "Sean, keep this up and I'm goin to hoagtie you..."

• "that's a bit kinky [Name]-- but yer boy is always happy to please ye--"

• "oh my lords-- Sean!"

Charles Smith

• stronk hunt boah

• he is just so beautiful-- im gonna cry asdfgghjkl

• bUT ANYWAYS

• Charles won't admit it outloud when he is sleepy

• he is usually reserved and quiet anyways so his [Name] has to pick up some signals when Charles is sleepy

• but Charles won't be so stubborn about it though

• like, he is kinda like Lenny, a bit submissive and giving in on his [Name]'s words if the man tells him to sleep

• well, if [Name] finds out he is sleepy that is

• when this boah is sleepy, he usually sits in a somewhere in a shade and looks at the sky

• preferably under a tree and away from camp for a bit because honestly, the camp is just too noisy at times

• so yeah

• [Name] will notice him not doing anything and just cloud watching and will sit by him

• Charles would send him a small smile and a nod

• the two would just be quiet and after sometime, Charles would lay his head on [Name]'s lap as the [Hair color] haired man braids his hair and then undoing it again, repeatedly doing the action for a bit

• it honestly soothes Charles a lot

• just his [Name] playing with his hair which he is the only who can

• it was nice and with him already be sleepy, Charles would be lull to sleep

• and with that, Cahrles is softly snoring in his [Name]'s lap as the [Hair color] haired man undoes the braid again and then look at Charles' sleeping face fondly then look at the view in front of him with a gentle smile

• it doesn't take long for [Name] to sleep too with that

Javier Escuella

• a man after me own heart

• honestly, this man is just gorgeous asdfghjkl

• BUT BACK TO HEADCANONS

• Javier would probably be the only one who ACTUALLY goes to his tent and sleep in his cot

• maybe drag [Name] there because the mexican just want a nice cuddle you know?

• honestly, sleepy Javier is adorable to his [Name]

• Javier's mind just shuts down and he forgets how to speak in english and mumbles in spanish until he falls asleep

• i can also see Javier being one to plop himself down on his [Name]'s lap when the guy is sitting somewhere (below a tree or on a seat) because when is sleepy-- he loses his braincells and all functioning

• Javier just searches for his [Name] and throws himself because one, his boah can carry him alright anyways and two, he just loves too

• his [Name] is honestly amused because Javier won't be like this when he is functioning well

• well, not all the time

• but yeah

• [Name] thinks it's cute and will hug his lover

[eerythingisshaka]

#Fictober Day 4

“Will that be all?”

(Erik Stevens x Black!OC)

Word Count: 1.6k

Sweet, sweet Friday night has arrived and Rochelle was ready to enjoy it to the fullest.  Having started her new job, the comfort of knowing everything and being the one to call on for help was flushed away and replaced with mounds of company orientations, piles of reading materials to learn programs and regulations, and constantly getting lost coming back from lunch.  She counted her blessings to have moved on from where she was before; she is getting more pay, better benefits and it was closer to home, so she was prepared to take on all of the newbie awkwardness and feeling like a know-nothing to keep her spot.  

But now was the time to unwind for making it through the first week alive, and she knew just how to let loose.  Rochelle got rid of her office attire, showered and put her hair in a protective style before wrapping herself up in her comfy clothes and favorite Proud Family blanket on the couch.  Her studying made her miss out on her fall TV coming back, but luckily God made Hulu a thing.  

Queueing up her list, she took out her hot chips and and sweet tea to dive into the latest drama that had cooked up since last season.

Rochelle’s phone lights up, indicating a text message.  She looks at the screen to read a message from her friend, Ayla.

Hey!  Congrats on the new money, girl!  Drinks on you tonight, let’s hit up karaoke!

Rochelle squirmed with indecisiveness.  It had been a while since her and Ayla got out together but she JUST got comfortable.

Nah, I just set my hair anyway.  But maybe tomorrow?

A few minutes later.  Really?  If you don’t put a scarf on your hair and Erykah Ba-do the damn thing!

Rochelle cackled.  She loved it when she could send an LOL after actually lol’ing.

LOL, ok girl.  I was raised not to give into peer pressure.  I’m putting my foot down on this.  I’m so damn tired, sis.

Ugggghhhh, fine.  But I’m hollering at you tomorrow, so you better come through!

Rochelle tosses her phone on the table, burrowing under her covers once again as she finally calls it as night.

Halfway through the first episode, Rochelle’s stomach started to growl.  She hadn’t made it to the store all week either to reload the fridge so chips, peanut butter, and cereal were mostly all she had to make a meal of.  Rochelle couldn’t fight the hunger pains any longer, but was too settled to go pick anything up.  There was a great restaurant around the corner from her that served the best wings, burgers, fries, and anything else, greasy and Americana for someone to indulge in.

Unfortunately, the restaurant didn’t do online orders so Rochelle stretched her arm out from the warmth of her blanket to pick up her cell phone and call in.  The phone rang and rang and rang.  Must be a busy night, you thought.  The line suddenly opens up.

“Yeah?  After I covered  your fucking shifts for the damn Teyana Taylor concert, you gonna do me like this?!  Pssh, whatever nigga.  Hi, whatchu tryna get?” a man on the other line demands.

Rochelle was taken aback from the unprofessional speech she was hearing.  It wasn’t a snooty restaurant, but usually some old aunty picks up sounding sunny and accommodating.

“Hello?!”  he says, irritated.

“Oh, uh yeah.  Sorry, um I wanted to put in an order with you?”

He chuckles.  “Yeah, well I didn’t think you were calling to ask me how my day was.”  

Rochelle clears her throat.  He had a nice baritone to his voice, you could tell he was a brother at least.  “Well with what I just heard, maybe I should?”

She hears some shuffling on the phone.  “Is this a prank caller or somethin?”

She laughs apologetically.  “No, no!  Sorry, I am hungry so damn hungry, please don’t make me wait for the phone to ring and ring again.”

“Aw, yeah, my bad on that.  Well, it’s really Ralph’s bad.  His wife Sadie usually takes the calls but she is taken a leave right now.  He isn’t a people person though so he will literally ignore the rings until someone gets sick enough to answer.”

Rochelle sits up, turning down her TV.  “And he’s into Teyana Taylor?”  

He laughs genuinely.  “Nah, nah, that was my boy, Phillip.  He was closer to the phone, and act like it’s too much to PICK UP THE PHONE!”  Erik yells, presumably to Phillip.

“Ah ok.  Maybe you’ll earn Employe of the Month, since you’re so damn helpful.”  Rochelle says, smiling to herself, playing with the fuzz on her blanket.

All she hears is background noise before he continues.  “...you cute.  You sound cute too, look, where am I gonna be delivering?”  he asks.  She hears the phone adjust again.

“Oh, you deliver too?  Jack of all trades and shit?”  Rochelle lays back on the couch as she lists off her address, unable to sit still with all this flirting going on.

“Baby, I do it all.  Don’t let nobody tell you different.  What’s your name?”  She gives it to him.  “Niiice.  Ok, whatchu need?  We can’t have you goin hungry on a Friday night.  You get paid, you eat.”

“I heard that!  Ok, so I need the one pound lemon pepper wings, fry them hard…”

He groans on the other line.  “You one of those high maintenance customers, huh?”

Her mouth slacks open.  “Excuse me sir!  What happened to ‘the customer is always right’?”  

She hears him kiss his teeth.  “Shiiiit, these customer is always right about to get a foot up they ass, asking for the moon and shit.  I got you though, don’t trip.  What else?”

Rochelle’s stomach begins to grumble again.  “Uhh, I need a side of fries, and a couple of them honey butter biscuits.  Go head and add a side of potato salad.  And do y’all have the fudge brownies tonight?  Y’all always run out of those-”

“Damn girl!  You eatin, eatin!  I ain’t mad at you, when you hungry, you gotta satisfy that.  Yeah, we got them brownies, don’t even trip.  You need a drink?”  His voice has gotten lower and sounds like he is talking right into the receiver.

His voice tickles her eardrum as Rochelle sits up at his inflection on the word ‘satisfy’.  He sounded so damn fine, she hoped it was real.  

“Nah, that’s ok, you been really helpful.”  She starts to dig in her purse for her wallet.

“Ok, I guess you got juice and shit already.  That’s cool.  Ok, anything else, Ma?”  He says, as you hear paper rustling.

“No, I’m good.  Can’t wait!”  

“Ok, your total is $15.78.  I should be by around...15 minutes.  Think you can wait on me?”  

Rochelle giggles.  “I got no choice!  What’s your name, by the way?”

“It’s Erik.  Glad to be of service to you this evening.  Hold tight.”

As they hang up Rochelle grips her phone in her hands anxiously.  What the hell was all of that?  She has never flirted with a delivery boy, much less while taking the order before seeing him.  But his conversation was so smooth, and his voice so deep, authoritative, but compassionate.  She brushes it off, but that doesn’t stop her from putting on some boy shorts instead of her Looney Tunes pajama bottoms.

The knock at the door jarred Rochelle, making her jump from her concentration on her show.  She gets up, checking herself in the mirror before opening the door with the chain on.

Looking up, she sees her helpful delivery boy, bag in one hand, scratching his beard with the other as he peers as her through the crack in the door.

His almost instantaneous smile at the sight of her made Rochelle flutter, his dimples were even more poignant than the golds in his lower teeth, making her chest cave in.  

“I hope I didn’t keep you too long, ma’am.  Your order still hot though!”  He smirks, raising the bag up.

Rochelle closes the door, working the chain with a speed untapped before.  He didn’t look like no cook she ever seen before.  They were always the biggest flirts with the ashiest appearance, but Erik looked like the Cinderella version.  Opening the door completely, a shared exchange of onceovers says what words can’t.

“So you certainly do deliver.”  Rochelle says, putting on her grown and sexy voice.

Erik shrugs.  “Like I said, I do it all.  I got you.”

“Where my drink then?”  Rochelle looks around him fruitlessly.

Erik holds his hands to his mouth.  “Ohhh, shit!  She got jokes!”

She holds her hand out as he hands the bag to him.  “You got change for a $20?”

He shakes his head, locs hanging in his eyesight a moment.  “Nah, you can hold onto that.”

Rochelle smirked, impressed by his generosity.  “But….won’t you get in trouble for being short or something?”

Erik kisses his teeth, drawing her eyes to his emotive mouth as he talks.  “I’ll just add it as my comped meal for my shift, ain’t nothin.”

Rochelle nods, holding the bag at her side.  “So...I guess that means no tip either….”

Erik bites his lips looking down at the floor.  “Eh, this can be my goodwill for the day.  That’s tip enough.  Will that be all?”

She hoped HIS tip would be enough. Rochelle stammered looking behind her and back at Erik.  “Well, you don’t have to be hungry and broke on account of me.”

Erik’s neck jerks back, as he makes a face.  “Aye, now, I ain’t never broke, hear me!  But I could eat, you know.”

Rochelle nods.  “I got plenty.”

Erik’s eyes travel downward.  “You do...and you my last order for the day, so I just got off…”

Rochelle stepped back from the door, as everything seemed to fall into place, allowing him to come inside.

[wetsockonyourfoot]

I Ain’t Your Southern Belle

(so i’m trying to post this on AO3, but I thought I might give it a try here! Sorry if this sucks!)

If there was one thing Jesse McCree wasn’t, it was a coward. That being said, when he was suddenly tossed to the wild unknown that is the foster care system, he was a bit scared. Not cowardly, just… slightly scared. After all, it’s not every day that a family disowns a thirteen-year-old child simply because he was born the wrong gender. The night honestly had been a blur, but as there seemed to be no one in the place aside from Jesse the foster care system decided to give him to a rather trusted couple who had been hosting children for several years now. Morrison-Reyes was the family name, according to what Jesse had been told, and they consisted of a cop and a high school teacher. Why they wanted another kid to look after was something of a mystery to Jesse when the found out they already had three other kids in their home. Not only that but he knows they got the records of him from before.

Jessie Isabella McCree hadn’t the greatest past. He knew from a young age that had been born the wrong gender, and the tight feeling of shame of his own situation had only grown under the influence of his birth parents. They and his two older brothers had never approved of the idea, forcing him to wear dresses, and bows. Treating him more like a doll than a person with feelings and thoughts of their own. So, on the faithful night that they kicked him out, Jesse knew he would never be allowed back near their farm, not that he wanted to be anyway. So now at sixteen years old, three years after being kicked out, he was finally found by child services and forced into the system. It all happened too fast for him to really recognize what was going on, but perhaps that was for the better. He put up little fight, though when asked his name by the officer that got him, he did reply with Jesse, and though it has little difference in pronunciations, the drop of the I in his mind did wonders.

From there he was tossed around a bit for about two weeks, before it was decided he would be going to the Morrison-Reyes home for thanksgiving and Christmas to see if they would be a suitable match. Few days of paperwork later he arrived in front of a classic two-story brick home, modernized and decorated already for Christmas even though it was about a week before Thanksgiving. School, which he had to be put back into, would be out within the week, so he would be forced to spend time with the family. He did find out though that one of his foster parents was the Spanish teacher in his school, which turned out well since Jesse was almost fluent in the language. Probably the only good thing that had come out of living in a Spanish guys house for the past three years, was the immense pick up of the language.

Thus, he was introduced to Jack Morrison, and his husband Gabriel Reyes. Jamie was the overexcited and slightly loud Australian whom he would share a lot with and also the newest of their children, Hana being an original member of the family as she had been adopted first and was a baby even before the couple was married. Finally, there was Lúcio, a gifted youth who matched Hana in age, both being eleven, and excelled with music. Hana was a rising competitive gamer, and Jamie was an inventor. All of this information was thrown at Jesse within the span of about twelve minutes. Oh, and dinner was in ten.

“C’mon, put your bags down son, we’ll get your settled.” Jack stated with a smooth voice that honestly suited the whole golden boy look he fitted in. Blonde hair, blue eyes, perfect smile, and a toned body. Not that Jesse was really looking at the last thing, but hey it was obvious why the man attracted Mr. Reyes. Gabriel Reyes however was a dark skinned, and hard edge sort of man. He looked like the kind that would quiet literally snap some one’s neck in half if they so much as looked at him wrong. Jesse was not a coward, just a little scared.

“Yer uh… my Spanish teacher…” Jesse mumbled looking at the hulk of a man.

“And you’re the child that’s been skipping class since you got put in my class.” He answered back simply raising a brow that Jesse ducked down at.

“Uh… yeah about that-” Jesse laughed uneasily before yelping as he was pulled into the kitchen by an overly enthusiastic Hana.

“Scare him later papa, I want dinner and dad said we’re not having it till we’re all there!” She called back towards the man, who just shrugged behind the kids and followed in line.

“So Jesse, you’re sixtee right?” Jack asked and received a nod. “When’s your birthday?” He carried on the conversation.

“Oh uh, it was like July 28th or somethin’… I ain’t got a good memory for dates.” Jesse answered slowly edging into a seat that was offered up by Jamie who seemed to be eyeing him down curiously.

Mr. Morrisons brows furrowed in confusion as he turned and handed a full plate of food to Hana. “You don’t remember? Now how do you forget your own birthday?” He tried to joke, but ended up only making Jesse duck his head down more.

“I aint celebrated it in a… a while.” Jesse answered truthfully as Jack just nodded and cut of his awkward laughter.

“Well maybe we can change that.” He offered up a plate to Jesse, who hesitantly took it and put it down on the table as quietly has humanly possible. Dinner continued on in this manner with Mr. Morrison trying to find out some stuff that had already been on Jesse’s files from Jesse himself, and the teen giving a half answer since he didn’t even know most information on himself anymore. Once he was done pretending to eat and pushing food around on his plate, he stayed and helped Mr. Reyes clean up.

“You know kid,” The man started. “You’re only gonna make this awkward if you keep dancing around and keep it awkward like this. I suggest you just give up and try to make yourself as comfortable as possible in this situation.” Reyes advised as they finished up, Jesse drying off the last dish and putting it onto a pile he had made. Seeming to be done talking, Jesse was lead to his room by Jamie. The room was right across from the couple’s room, with the remaining three upstairs if he needed them. A simple full bed, and dresser it was obvious the room was for guests. Reaching down and touching the quilted blanket on the bed, sighing as he dropped his single bag of clothing he owned. Most of it was worn down and ratty but it’s what he had so that’s what he’d wear for the remainder of his stay he supposed. Flopping onto his bed Jesse sighed and tried to curl up to get some sleep after he kicked off his shoes which thumped onto the floor.

The following morning was a Saturday, and while normally Jesse would be rejoicing the lack of school, it meant he had to spend time with his new foster family. He was up late in the morning, around 10 am was when he woke up. Wandering into the bathroom connected to his room he firstly relieved himself, and then focused on looking presentable. Popped a few zits, and rummaging through his bag for some bandages he taped up his chest. He knew this was a bad thing to do, but it’s all he could afforded and no one ever stopped him, so bandaging it was. He dreamed of having enough money to own a proper binder in all honestly, but with how things were before and the now lack of any money at the moment, he knew this was a dream for another day.

Brushing his greasy hair, he decided he would find out how to take a shower later, and headed out in the same clothes he had worn the day before. Jack was standing in the kitchen when he came in, sending a kind smile when he noticed the new comer in the kitchen. The home had been remodeled to have an open floor plan Jesse suspected, as the kitchen wall was blown open so it included the living room. An island separating the living area from the kitchen area and at the island sat a very sleepy looking Jamie and Hana who both were eating cereal with varying degrees of success in getting the fruity loops into their mouths. By Jesse’s judgment, currently Jamie was winning in getting the most in his actual mouth. Hana meanwhile was making a nice collection in her long hair.

Jesse subconsciously touched his own hair as he thought about when it was down to his waist. His mother refused to let him get it cut, and eventually he took a pair of scissors to it and fixed the problem himself. It was sloppy, and a little long in the front now, but it was above his shoulders and that’s all he cared about. “Morning Jesse.” Jack greeted him, snapping Jesse from his thoughts and the man gestured towards the breakfast bar. “Want some cereal?”

“I’m good actually.” Jesse declined not wanting to take even more of their food. “What’s everyone doin’?” He drawled out looking to the living room where Lúcio and Gabriel were decorating the large fireplace located on the adjacent wall to the door and stairs. Stockings and other items being hung up with care and lots of command hooks.

“Oh they’re just finishing up decorations.” Jack explained as Jesse mindlessly nodded along. “You can join them if you like and aren’t hungry.” He offered up as the teen nodded once more and moved into the living room watching till Gabriel noticed him and grunted to Jesse.

“Here, help him put these up on the tree.” He spoke out as the teen jolted into movement to help. Lúcio was humming while they did this, and slowly Jesse worked himself into a rhythm of handing the younger an ornament for the tree, and waiting patiently with the next one while it was hung upon the tree. This same rhythm soon seemed to follow Jesse into his life style with the Morrison-Reyes household. He would wake up, deny breakfast, help decorate or another small task/chore, then laze around for some time, claim he had eaten lunch, laze around some more and then eat dinner before showering and bed. This provided as sense of security in his routine, and when school started on Monday he simply fixed it so he would talk with Mr. Reyes during Spanish class (He was no longer aloud to skip it) and then go about his other classes. He was behind in most things considering he missed three years of schooling, though they simply threw him behind a grade and called it good enough.

He learned a lot about his fellow foster and adopted kids while he was going through the first week. Hana regularly had nightmares about her birth mother who had died while trying to get to America. Lúcio didn’t even know his birth parents, and grew up in the system from day one. Jamie however, Jesse grew particularly close too, as he found out he was also transgender. The boy offered all sorts of advice and things Jesse didn’t even know existed. He had started some hormone therapy while he was still on the streets, but he didn’t half the information Jamie had told him about it. Apparently, Reyes and Morrison had been paying for Jamie’s treatments for the better half of a year and they didn’t plan on stopping any time soon. Binders were also another topic brought up, and when Jamie found out he was using bandages to bind the boy nearly threw a fit inside of class (They both had history together as it wasn’t Jamies strongest subject). The following period Jesse was dragged to Reyes classroom who was just as appalled to find out. One doctors trip later he learned that the pain he had been feeling when putting them on was caused by a fractured rib. Jamie freaked out.

With his chest now exposed to the world, doctor’s orders, they left the office and Jesse received several looks as he tried to adjust to the sudden freedom and lack of pain he felt. He was ordered to not bind or even attempt it again for six weeks till the rib had healed properly. Left with no other choice than to follow orders he then spent the remainder of the week, god it was only Wednesday, to staying home and cleaning up the place as an excuse to explore the house fully (Jack knew but didn’t say anything. Humans are curious after all).

Thanksgiving turned out to be relatively quiet after he arrived, as far as Thanksgivings go, with just the six of them eating together happily. Jesse was slowly speaking more and more, his shyness melting away easily with the group as he happily shoveled down the delicious multicultural food. Gabe had made delicious corn salads and salsa with chips for his contribution, Hana absolutely enthusiastic to shovel down the burning kimchi that Jesse could only stand a bite of before he was coughing, Lúcio providing some relief with his sweet rabanada while Jamie and Jack both gobbled down several people’s servings of turkey. Overall Jesse couldn’t remember a time he felt so stuffed and warm when he was wrapped up in a giant quilt with a snoring Hana on his shoulder afterwards. The girl having fallen into a peaceful food coma while Gaberiel and the others were busy fighting over what movie to watch.

Jesse came to find out that they did this often, the family dinner type deal, as he was continually surprised at the warm food which always seemed to be piled onto the table every night. Once school was called back in, Jesse reluctantly got up with Mr. Reyes (who now insisted he be called Gabe) in the morning, avoiding everyone’s questioning glances as he skipped his normal classes (He didn't feel like going to them and Gabriel didn't say anything in protest anymore) and sat in the Spanish room. Conversation flowing so easily between the pair that most of their discussions ended up on the quizzes that Jesse helped grade with Gabe. It took him several days of silent contemplation in the class room however before Jesse finally got the nerve to ask Gabe if he could borrow one of his or Jack’s large hoodies to help make him feel more normal. The bandaging around his torso did little to hide his chest, and with how he looked now it just made Jesse feel weird. The man of course obliged, taking Jesse out the next day and getting him several sets of safe clothing until he was allowed his binder back.

He almost started to have a small panic attack at the thought of Gabe spending so much money on him, but luckily Jamie had gone with them and simply said he’d wear some of the clothing as well so it wasn’t just money on Jesse. He didn’t know why those words helped, but the pain in his chest gradually eased away as he found a sweat shirt he couldn’t help but ask for. ‘BAMF’ printed on the front along with two little pistols in a deep red color that Jesse found absolutely hilarious. Gabe happily obliged in his wish after laughing his ass off as well.

Jack took Jesse back to the doctors about three weeks into his stay. He learned, sadly, that no binders were allowed still, as his ribs themselves were allowing to expand free and heal up properly. While this was a downside he did learn from Jack it just meant he could eat more ice cream and blame it on his ribs, so they both gladly raided the freezers contents and ate half a gallon each of chocolate chip. Jack came to surprise Jesse with a similar taste in movies, as they were the only one’s home currently, pulling out several classic Clint Eastwood movies that had both of them raving about the action qualities immediately. While Jack enjoyed his own action and hero movies, he did love westerns for their heroes and dramatic situations. It made Jesse full out laugh when Jack tried to ask how these situations even arose back then, the teen just shrugging and claimed all of them were bored without TV.

The answer pleased Jack it seemed, as the Indiana native just smiled at Jesse, ruffled his hair, and stole a scoop of his ice cream. With the movie playing, both of their attentions were split between watching and repeating the dialogue both knew by heart, and actually just talking. “So, what do you want for Christmas?” Jack asked as he took a sip from his Coke on the table.

Jesse paused in getting a scoop full of chocolate chip, to look at him. “I thought this was my Christmas gift. Yah know stayin’ with ya’ll?” He asked resuming the motion popping a spoon full of the cold treat into his mouth happily.

“Well in a way yes, but that isn’t it. You still have to ask Santa for something.” Jack teased softly gesturing over to the mile-high stack of papers Hana had filled to the brim with gift ideas for most of the family (mainly herself however).

“Uh… hell I don’t know… didn’t think Santa came to punks like me. Naughty list and all.” Jesse shrugged back simply with his attention back on the TV at this point.

The officer scoffing softly as he looked towards the teen. “Santa and I are very close, and I’ll have you know he has you on his Nice list. So, what does the cowboy want?” He asked again with a small smile playing at his lips.

“Shucks… I don’t know Mr. Morrison. I just usually got dresses and dolls back home….” Jesse mumbled rubbing his chest lightly to ease a small itch.

“Well you aren’t getting dresses, unless you want them for some reason, so think of something else okay? Just make a list or something.” Jack suggested softly, reaching over to the table and picking up a smaller stack of paper off the table Hana had taken up. “Or at least tell us if Hana is close to what you’d like or not.” He gently offered it up to the teen to hesitantly took it.

Jesse nodding slightly to acknowledge him as his eyes quickly scanned over the items listed underneath his name. “All this stuff seems kinda…. Yah know… expensive.” He mumbled before taking an offered pen and scribbling out the items which he deemed too extravagant. “Maybe just like… I don’t know some warm socks or a blanket…?” He suggested handing the list back for Jack to inspect.

Jack sighing softly as he found most of the items not crossed out were under 10 dollars each. “Jesse, you do know both Gabe and I work for a reason, right? We can afford to get you a real gift, and if you don’t pick it Hana will. And I know for a fact she can find more expensive items.” He gently combed a hand through the teens hair, smiling when Jesse leaned slightly to the touch letting out a soft huff.

“I know… still don’t mean I wan’ nothin’ expensive…. Maybe a cowboy hat or somethin’?” He tried once again, Jack seeming to accept his answer now with a nod and his smile growing.

“Cowboy hat it is! Juuust make sure to send your letter in to Santa okay? He gets cranky if you wait till the last minute.” The officer chuckled as he casually stole a bite of Jesse’s ice cream, the teen yelping as he tried to move it away in time. “What??” Jack laughed, feigning innocence as Jesse pouted.

“Fine then… I’m gonna take a nap instead ice cream thief.” Jesse huffed, but still smiled as he put the ice cream tub back into the freezer, and his spoon in the dishwasher. Jack still snickering as he turned his own attention back to the movie at hand. Jesse meanwhile headed into the guest room he’d been calling his own. A large red blanket with a geometric design stitched into it laying at the foot of the bed, one of the favorites of the blankets they had given to him to use in Jesse’s opinion. Changing into a slightly more comfortable pair of pajama pants and sliding underneath the warm covers, pulling the blanket up over his shoulders snuggly.

Sleep found Jesse quickly, taking his mind into a dark and endless abyss where he floated softly in the warm pleasure of the bed around himself. His thoughts gently drifted about, wondering from recent events, thinking of students who populated Gabe’s class room during the day. Eventually his mind wondered how his brothers were doing, before a jab of pain resonated into his chest from the idea. They were fine. Of course, they had to be fine, he was gone after all, something they wished for greatly.

Thoughts slowly swirled down from this point until Jesse was whimpering pathetically in the real world, twitching and shaking despite the blankets on his frame. He had only managed to dose for an hour before he woke up, sucking in a surprised breath. His chest lit up in flames, pulling tightly at the warm sweatshirt he had on till Jesse slipped the material off himself in an attempt to make the tugging stop. He was left in a short sleeve t-shirt he had snatched from Jamie some time ago, along with his sweat pants which he begrudgingly noticed felt wetter than usual. “Fuck….” He hissed out slowly getting up and shuffling into the bathroom. As fate would have it, his period had started. Wonderful, this stupid thing again.

He had thought the hormone treatments had stopping it, but having been off them for a while apparently brought them right back on when the hormones had been flushed out his system. Jesse begrudgingly slapped on a pad and tampon, holding his cramping middle as he shuffled out to change pants and lay down to try and control the tightness in his chest. He was a little shocked however to see his room wasn’t empty when he came back in. Jamie was standing over by his bed, gathering up the sheets from his bed and looking over with a smile when he saw Jesse. “’Ey! Wanna come up in my room?” He offered as he continued to strip the bed down, Jesse now seeing there was a blood spot staining the perfectly white cloth.

“U-Uh… yeah sure…” Jesse nodded looking at his feet as Jamie passed him, dumping the sheets in the laundry room before both teens shuffled into his room.

“Sit down, I gotta find som’tin.” Jamie instructed as he started to search through is mess of a closet, Jesse looking and sitting down on the stuff animal filled bed. It was the weirdest thing one wouldn’t expect when thinking of Jamie, but the boy loved stuffed animals. Whenever the family went anywhere he always got a stuffed animal from there that in some way represented the place they had gone.

When the teen returned, he dumped a clothed pad of some kind on his lap, before plugging the device into the wall. “Heat Pad. Always helps with my cramps.” He explained sitting across from Jesse with a bounce of the bed’s springs. “I thought’d you like it and maybe I could tell you a little bit about my fine specimen collection!” He asked gesturing to the stuffed animals, plucking up a stuffed Pig. “This one is my bestest one! I got it from my best mate back ‘ome, and lovingly named it Roadhog! Cause that was ‘is nickname ya see-“ Jamie began his giant tale of the animals Jesse laughing as he went on to tell a story about how he and this ‘Roadhog’ character had played around, almost blowing up an ant hill.

This is how the evening evolved, with Jesse laughing or leaning on the edge of his seat as Jamie chattered the world away with the seemingly endless tales of his stuffed animals. He found out Jamie had a slight concussion when he was younger causing him to have a slightly harder time forming new memories. So, the stuffed animals were like a touchable journal or memory bank. If he wanted to remember a time better, he could pick one of them up and it helped him remember. Without realizing, as the two teens chatted, eventually even swapping stories, Jesse’s chest unwound itself till he was laughing so hard he was gasping for breath.

Hearing the commotion Jack peaked on the pair, smiling softly as he saw Jamie pretending to be attacked by a stuffed Crocodile while telling the story of the families first zoo trip with Lúcio. Jesse looked perfectly at ease with him, both of them unknowingly leaning slightly on each other for comfort and support. Quietly shutting the door again Morrison walked back downstairs where Hana and Lúcio were playing video games. He dropped a kiss on both of their heads as he passed the couch, sitting down at the dining table and going back to scribbling away at some forms for work.

His phone lit up with a text, a maraca shaking sounding out to alert Gabe had texted him.

‘How did the doctors appointment go? -G’

Jack smiled as he looked down at the message and typed back the reply.

‘Perfect. -J’

[occasionalfics]

It’s Been A While

Summary: You’ve been avoiding your ex for four years, but it turns out that he’s the only person you can count on, at the end of the day. Now you have to wonder what that means for the future.

A/N: Oh wow I actually wrote something that isn’t a novella?

Words: 4,692

~~~

The last thing you wanted to do was call your ex in the middle of the night - it was the middle of the night for you, anyway - and beg for bail.

And yet, there wasn’t much of a choice.

It’d been four years since you’d broken up. Or blown up - that’s more accurate. Your tempers flared so often and burned so hot that the whole relationship erupted in a messy, tumbling tragedy that left you homeless, jobless, and alone.

He had his crew. You, on the other hand, had no one. You’d left them all to venture into the unknown with him.

You’d foraged for a while. At first, you couldn’t keep a job because you were always angry - but you always had been. After six months, you’d cooled off and allowed the reality of the situation to really set in, and finally, you were able to control your emotions on the job.

That job, however, was dancing. Nude. Almost every night, for strangers that tipped badly and smelled even worse. But hey, it was something.

You grew used to the assholes quickly. They numbed you, made you impervious to caring. You drank too much before performing, immediately vomited after getting off stage, collected and counted your tips before going upstairs to your ratty apartment, and passed out just to repeat it all the next night.

You were numb and drunk and miserable, and you’d been that way for three and a half years.

So when, one night, one of your least favorite assholes stepped into the club and tried to touch you, you stopped, glared at him, and waited for security. They never came, and the asshole tried to touch you again. So you pounced on the asshole, drove him back with your pants unzipped and shirt half off. You broke his jaw, his nose, and maybe a muscle behind his left eye. That’s what the official police report said, anyway.

That’s right; the asshole had tried to assault you, and you’d been the one arrested. You were the dirty dancer. You were the one without bruises or broken bones. So, in the eyes of pigs, you were automatically guilty. But you hadn’t killed the guy, and he apparently had a record himself. He didn’t have money to press charges, and on that planet, your “crime” was counted as a misdemeanor. So bail was set within hours of you arriving to the jail.

You gave a breathy laugh when one of the pigs brought you to a phone in a dirty hallway.

“You have ten minutes,” he said.

You sighed, picked up the receiver, and dialed an all-too familiar comm code. You were surprised that he even accepted the call.

“I swear, if this is Halfnut again, I ain’t comin’ fer ya,” he said in a flat tone.

“Yondu,” you said quietly.

He didn’t respond. You looked at the wall beyond the phone, waiting for one of his telltale signs. If he’d just give something away, then you’d know how this conversation would go. Or how to navigate it. But the silence stretched on for one, one and a half, two minutes, so you gulped, knowing you needed to use your time more wisely.

“I didn’t want to have to call you,” you said, turning as far from the pigs as you could. If you couldn’t see them, maybe they’d go away. “I don’t have time to explain everything, but I need your help.”

“Ya need bail,” he said.

You closed your eyes and put your forehead against the cool, disgusting metal wall. “Yes,” you said through a tight throat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t have anyone else to call.”

“Yeah,” he said.

“I’ll make it up to you,” you said, immediately regretting the promise.

“No ya won’t,” he said.

Stars, he was right. If you’d owed one another anything before, that’d all blown up in the eruption. This wasn’t a favor, you knew. It wasn’t quite an olive branch, but it was...something. He hasn’t agreed you reminded yourself.

“How much do ya need?” he asked with a sigh.

You pictured him wiping his face the way he always did, his crest lighting the room up in that familiar red glow. For the first time in years, you let yourself want to be near him. You had to convince yourself too hard to believe that had nothing to do with your current predicament.

“850.”

“That’s it?” he asked.

“I’m not worth much around here,” you whispered, biting your lip to stop the sob in your throat from coming out.

“Three minutes left,” one of the pigs called.

“I’m coming,” Yondu said.

You covered your mouth with your palm, keeping in the sobs as best as you could. One still made it out, despite your efforts.

“Hang in there,” he said.

You nodded and almost told him you loved him, but bit your lip behind your hand. When you got somewhat of a grip on your breathing, crying, and word vomit, you sighed and said, “Thank you.”

He disconnected. You hung up the phone, then let the pigs take you back to your shared cell at the front of the building.

~~~

Someone poked you out of a dreamless sleep. You turned over on the uncomfortable, springy mattress to glance at one of the pigs staring down at you.

“Bail’s been posted,” he said in a low voice.

You grunted as you rolled out of the bed, watching your head for the top bunk. You stood, stretched, and wiped your eyes before following the pig out of the cell. Neither of you said anything as you headed to the front desk area.

Yondu was by himself. He had a small bag at his feet and a pair of Terran sunglasses on, mostly for show. Quill’d given them to him years ago, before you’d been with him, but they were a part of the grander welcome sight.

“Been a while, (Y/N),” he said, chewing on something between syllables.

You nodded, unsure of what to say. After a silent beat, Yondu reached down for the bag at his feet, handed it to you, then smirked at the pig before putting his arm across your shoulders. You let him - you were too tired, too miserable, too...everything to fight.

Plus, you’d never say so but you liked him touching you. At least you knew him. At least you’d loved him. At least his rough fingers were gently scraping your shoulder the way you loved.

You left the Stars-awful building to find one of Yondu’s smaller M-ships docked just off the port.

“Does anyone know?” you asked.

He shook his head. “Not a soul, Darlin’.”

You looked away from him at the name. He hadn’t called you that in over four years. He’d called you much worse, but now it was like none of that had happened. But it did you reminded yourself.

You cursed at your own thoughts, and at how this felt so easy and right after so long. Maybe being around him would always feel like this, even after an eruption. Maybe you’d just had a long day. Either way, you followed him onto the M-ship quietly.

He set coordinates for somewhere, but you weren’t paying attention. “We gonna be here a while, Darlin,” he said absently from his Captain’s chair. He looked so natural there, you thought. Always had. It was hard for you to imagine him being a slave - being in a position of power had always suited him, in your opinion. “There’s a couple’a blankets in tha trunk if you wanna sleep.”

“What’s in the bag?” you asked.

He gave you a side-long glance, not turning fully in his chair. His smirk fell. His crest illuminated briefly with some memory or another. “Yer things,” he said quietly, before turning back to his controls.

You hadn’t realized you’d left things with him. Then again, you’d left in such a hurry that you weren’t really surprised. Depending on what was in the bag, you’d know where your missing items had gone - things you’d long forgotten about and moved on from. Not at all like Yondu.

As the ship took off from the port, you wrestled with the clump of blankets in his metal trunk. There was enough volume between it all to build something of a nest on the floor of the ship, so you did. When it felt comfortable enough - for a bunch of blankets on a cold, metal floor - you lay down, clutching the bag to you to have something in your arms. It smelled like him; Sovereign whiskey, sweat of hard labor, and Krylorian cinnamon, for good measure. That’s the last thought you had before you passed out.

~~~

You thought he’d wake you up when you made it back to the Elector. But when your eyes opened, you were still in the mess of blankets on the floor of the M-ship. Light and heat from a sun came in through the hatch, and the smell and sounds of an ocean filled your senses before you even sat up.

You groaned as you pushed yourself to our feet. Every inch of your body was stiff and awkward. Your hair felt greasy, your skin dry, and your clothes slightly too big from being worn for too long. You wanted to go home, but you weren’t quite sure where home was anymore. Yeah, you had that apartment and you paid well for it, but you really didn’t want to be there anymore.

Especially not with the ocean calling you.

You stretched up and out, then bent to grab your bag. After slinging it over your shoulder, you disembarked and headed onto the beach. You didn’t have to go far - Yondu literally parked the ship on the shore. He was a blue dot on the tan sand, a deeper blue than the water that flowed out before him.

You wondered why he’d landed here. You didn’t even know where ‘here’ was, but that didn’t seem to matter. Everything was calm, and you could’ve used some of that.

You went out to the beach and dropped the bag beside him.

“Mornin’,” he said quietly, still chewing on something. He had the glasses pulled over his eyes again, his elbows resting on his knees as he looked out at the water.

“Good morning,” you said quietly, slipping out of your heavy, hot boots. You thought he expected you to sit with him, but you didn’t. You headed to the water, to let it wash off the last twenty-four hours and maybe, also, the last four years. You closed your eyes, felt the sand move beneath your feet, breathed in the briny smell of the sea.

You hadn’t been to a beach in too long. You didn’t know which one this is, but you didn’t care. It did the job just as well as any other would.

Yondu surprised you by joining you in the water. You looked down to notice he’d rolled up the ends of his leather pants. His blue feet were vibrant beneath the clear water that surrounded your ankles.

“Ya gonna tell me how ya ended up in jail’er what?” he asked.

You sighed before looking at his face. He glanced out at the water with a flat expression. His scars looked exactly how you remembered them, and for a brief moment, you wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch them like you used to. Stars, he was too familiar.

“A, uh...patron of mine decided to get handsy last night.”

He didn’t know you were a stripper. Yondu wouldn’t approve. He’d have an opinion, even now. You didn’t really want to get into the semantics of your job, your life, your misery. You definitely didn’t want to relive the touching, the fight, and your arrest.

“So the cops arrested you instead’a him?” he asked.

You nodded and crossed your arms. “I don’t work in the best place. They don’t trust us.”

He looked at you, removed the glasses from his face, and grimaced. “Ya a troublemaker out there?” he asked. His tone was playful, but his features weren’t.

You shrugged. “Not me particularly. Some of my co-workers are, I guess. I do what I have to do.”

“Always did,” he said.

“We all did,” you whispered.

He only responded with a nod. For a bit, you stood in the water in silence. Some part of you wanted to reach for his hand, to stand closer to him and feel his heat against your body. That part of you wanted to go off with him, to go back to the life you had with him. That part remembered how fun, how exhilarating and adventurous that life was. But the other part of you - the part he hurt, the part that sat miserable and lonely in a dingy apartment for three and a half years - kept you back. That part knew what you’d done to one another. It knew you couldn’t go back.

“Whatever happen’ta us?” he asked.

“You know what happened,” you said. “We exploded.”

“We always made it work, ‘cept for when we didn’” he said.

You nodded. With a small, sad smile, you said, “We weren’t good for each other in the end, Yondu.”

“Why?” he asked, looking you right in the eyes.

It took you a second to rally enough composure to answer. “You were selfish and unreliable,” you said quietly. He listened, but some of the color in his red pupils drained. “I was angry, mean, and determined to ruin everything good in my life.”

“Nah, ya weren’t,” he said.

You shook your head. “I was. I was for a while after I left, too, because it took me that long to get over missing you so that I could learn my lesson.”

“Ya make it sound like we were killin’ each other,” he said.

“Weren’t we?” you asked. Your shoulders rose in a tense question. “We fought all the time, Yondu. And not just...little arguments - we fought. I was angry all the time -”

“You was angry ‘fore I met ya,” he said quietly.

You nodded. “I was, but our relationship didn’t make that better.”

“Ya never said ya wanted me ta fix ya,” he said.

“I didn’t want you to. That’s not the point - you’re missing the point.”

“The point where ya say me lovin’ ya was the worst thing ta ever happen ta ya?” he asked.

You stopped and dropped your arms. When you could, you shook your head. “Never,” you said, just barely above a whisper. “Leaving you was the worst thing that ever happened to me. But I had to do it. We weren’t good for one another.”

“How many times’re ya gonna say it?” he asked.

You shrugged, thinking that you’d repeat your words until you believed them. You knew if you said that to Yondu, you’d do something you would later regret.

“We were good at tha beginnin’, right?” he asked.

You nodded. “We were,” you said. “We were great, actually. We talked and we worked well together but...somewhere along the way, we just...stopped.”

“I can tell ya when you stopped,” he said.

Before thinking about it, you asked, “When?”

Yondu hesitated. He looked away from you, at the water again. His feet shuffled beneath him and his arms swung - until you caught one of his wrists in your hands. Ignoring the heat flowing between the two of you, you asked him, “Yondu, when?”

“When you was pregnant,” he said.

Your eyes widened. You dropped his wrist, looked away from him, and slowly turned toward the horizon. You didn’t think he’d known. It’d all happened so quickly; one minute, you were as happy as you would’ve let yourself be, as you ever had been and the next...the thing inside of your body wanted to ruin everything. You weren’t ready for a child. You weren’t married, had no experience raising a child, and you lived on a ship with a bunch of pirates. You weren’t even sure you wanted kids, so you got rid of that one. The only thing you regretted about the whole ordeal was that you never told Yondu about any of it.

“How did you know?” you asked.

He chuckled. “My men may’ve been yer friends, but they’re still my men.”

You nodded. It was all you could do. Of course Kraglin had said something. Maybe he didn’t say something until much later, but he’d had to have been the one - he was the only one to know anything. Kraglin was the one who took you to the clinic, took you out for lunch afterward, and made sure you got some rest when you made it back to the ship.

You kept nodding when you realized that Yondu was right. Everything went to shit after that. You didn’t care that you’d terminated a pregnancy - it was that you didn’t tell Yondu that ate away at you. Slowly. You never knew how he’d react, didn’t even want to think about it, so you kept the whole ordeal to yourself. If you were always angry, holding something that colossal in only made you angrier.

But you weren’t the only one that exacerbated the issues in your relationship. Maybe your secret had started the tumble down, but Yondu had his problems, too.

“You didn’t want to deal with me,” you said. “You liked the idea of me, but you didn’t want responsibility for my wants and needs. Especially not after that.”

“I didn’ even know what was goin’ on then, (Y/N),” he said. “How was I ‘sposed ta make things better?”

“You could’ve listened,” you said, turning back to him. You kept your face as calm as possible - you didn’t want a screaming match. Not here. Not after everything. You just wanted him to know what he’d done. “You were so used to being in charge all the time that whenever I brought a problem to you, or whenever I was upset about something, you just ignored me or yelled and shut down, like I was supposed to deal with everything the way your crew handles issues with the fucking ship.”

“Ya kept a fuckin’ baby from me!” he said, louder than you hoped he meant to be.

“Can you blame me?” you asked. “I was just a pretty thing for you to show off, like something you stole and wanted everyone to know. I believe you loved me, but you had a terrible way of showing it. You never wanted me to leave, never wanted me to do anything without you. But you also never wanted to listen to me. You never wanted to deal with the shit I needed to tell you - so why would I ever tell you that I was pregnant?”

Your breaths were shallow and your chest hurt. You must’ve been yelling, but you suddenly couldn’t remember. He stared at you, his mouth hanging open.

After too long, he finally said, “I...I didn’ know how.”

You wanted to believe that that was just a sad excuse...but you knew better. You knew him better. It wasn’t an excuse at all. It didn’t change the fact that you were only happy with him for a time, but it was at least the truth.

You looked at his scars and thought of the time he told you everything about his past. He’d been a Kree slave, sold to them practically since birth. All he’d known most of his life was war, terror, murder, and fear. The hide around his heart had grown thick, you knew - it had to have grown thick for him to survive. But whenever you tried to claw at it, to let the heart out and be touched and touch yours, he’d pushed you away. It was all he knew to do to survive.

You could sometimes still feel the raised smooth texture of his scars under your fingers, even four years after you left. They always reminded you that he’d been healing, and that you’d played a part in that. But you always reminded yourself that that didn’t leave much room for you to heal, grow, and be happy.

“I know,” you said. “But that’s why we didn’t work, Yondu. You needed someone to take care of you, but you couldn’t take care of someone else. You never even asked if I needed to be taken care of.”

He let out a long breath, and his whole body drooped. Finally, he understood. But you couldn’t stand to look at him staring at you like that anymore, like you broke his heart again. You gave him a sigh and a small smile, then went back to the bag on the beach.

For a while, he stood in the water and watched the horizon. You sat by the bag, wondering if you should open it. Maybe you should wait until he wasn’t around, but you didn’t know when that would be. You didn’t know where you were, where he was going to take you next, or when you’d be on your own again. You honestly didn’t know if that’s what you wanted or not.

You decided to open the bag, to distract yourself from having to think about what happened next. You pulled the drawstring, opened the top, and pulled out what was on top. A clump of yellow came out and unraveled in your hands. Your old hair brush dropped out of the yellow shirt and fell to the sand. The next clump was blue - a skirt you used to wear all the time - but it had nothing hiding in it. A purple scarf held an old bracelet Yondu’d bought for you - yes, he spent units on it. It wasn’t stolen, he’d sworn.

He came back to the sand and sat beside you before you pulled out the last one. It was a white and black onesie, far too small for you to have worn it. A little box fell out of it, which he grabbed before it hit the sand.

“This isn’t mine,” you said.

He laughed. “Yer right ‘bout that.”

You waited for him to explain himself, but he said nothing. He stared at the box, absently turning it over between his fingers.

“What is all of this, Yondu?” you asked, tired of the games. Tired in general, really.

“‘S new. Well, newer than tha rest’a the stuff.” He stopped twirling the box, holding it still as he sighed. “Don’ know why I bought the baby thing. Ya’d been long gone, but...it made me think’a ya. And this,” he said, still looking at that box. “This I’ve had since before it all went ta shit.”

You put the onesie down and found yourself staring at the box as well. It was so simple, but suddenly it seemed so...big. Not in size, just in what it must’ve meant to him. You looked at his profile and knew what it was for.

“You were gonna...you wanted to...marry me?” you asked quietly, stumbling over the embarrassed feeling that rose in you. It wasn’t that Yondu was the one with the ring that embarrassed you, but the fact that you never knew. You’d never even suspected that he wanted that. To know now, after it was far too late? It hurt beyond belief.

“‘Course I did. Ya said it yerself, ya took care’a me. I didn’ know my way’a carin’ fer ya wasn’ enough. When I fought fer the Kree, I never thought I’d get ta have a family’a my own. You were it, (Y/N). Then ya weren’t, just like that.”

You sighed, glad he hadn’t opened the box. Just knowing what it was for was almost too much. Combined with the pained tone to his words, you wanted to dig yourself into the sand and never come out again. Instead, you sighed and turned away from him with a quiet, “I’m so sorry.”

He tossed the box into the pile of your things in the sand. It felt wrong, thinking that you would take it with you wherever you went. You wanted to hand it back to him, but you couldn’t even touch it. You couldn’t reach for it. You pulled your legs close to your chest to get as far from it as possible.

“I seen a lot’a shit,” Yondu said, dragging your attention from the pile. “Felt a lot’a pain in my time. But nothin’ hurt me like ya leavin’ without a trace.”

“I know,” you said weakly. “I’m sorry.”

He glanced at you over his shoulder, but you couldn’t decipher the meaning in his eyes. The air between you was silent for too many minutes after that, so you watched shadows move across the beach as the sun continued its ascent. You tried to focus on how nice it was to be near someone you knew, but really...you couldn’t lie to yourself that well. You wanted it to be nice, but this was awkward and painful. This was uncomfortable and unending, especially because you didn’t know where to go from there.

You looked back at Yondu and asked, “How come you never came for me?”

He gave you a clueless look. “How’s I supposed ta do that? Not like ya left clues’er somethin’,” he said.

Of course, you thought. He couldn’t have found you. You’d walked off the ship on some port and bought your way to another section of the galaxy. He’d only been able to find you now because you’d contacted him from a specific jail on a specific port. The galaxy was too large for him to just have started asking about you everywhere you went, you knew. So you nodded, because you also knew how stupid your question sounded.

“Will you at least tell me why you brought me here?” you asked.

“Where else was I’sposed ta take ya, (Y/N)?” he asked back. “I don’t know where ya live, and I just figured ya could use some quiet after whatever got ya in that jail. Didn’t really wanna drag ya through the Elector anyway.”

You sighed. “Where do we go from here?” you asked, looking out at the water once more. The question was most rhetorical, but you wouldn’t mind an answer, if he had one.

Yondu sighed this time and dropped his shoulders. “Tell me where ya wanna go,” he said, putting the Terran glasses back over his eyes. “I’ll take ya wherever.” He stood up, turned around, and held a hand out for you, retracting it only when you started to put the things back in your bag.

When you had everything together, you grabbed onto his hand, enjoying the warm, familiar sensation of his calloused fingers against yours. Maybe you’d been bad for one another four years ago, but suddenly, touching him didn’t feel so bad. Talking to him felt different, you had to admit, but you couldn’t tell if that was because of what had happened years ago or just this morning.

“I could use a shower,” you said. “And some food, if you have any.”

He stared at you, still holding your hand. “What’re ya sayin’?”

You shrugged, but without as much tension in your shoulders. “I’m sorry I left. I’m sorry I hurt you, Yondu. I know that’s not quite enough to make things better but...you’re the only person I really know anymore. You’re definitely the only person I trust, and the only one with an accessible shower.”

He pulled you close to him, so that your chests touched. “Ya’ain’t playin’ with me, are ya?” he asked. His brows lowered beneath the glasses.

You shook your head. “Maybe we can work something out,” you said quietly. “But if you’d have me, I’d like to go home.”

For a few seconds, he watched you closely. A slight breeze moved between - or rather, around - you, blowing sand and salt in its wake. But then Yondu dropped your hand to wrap his arm around your back. Then his other arm followed, and suddenly your head was in the crook of his neck like it’d never left the spot.

[antiquexbeast]

once upon some basics

in response to ( this thing ) that i’m being yelled at about ( ???? )

because despite how obviously parody the video is, i’m sitting here realizing that i gotta explain why this isn’t “offensive” and “problematic” and is honestly more poking fun at weho stereotypes that, tbh, anyone who lives there has seen first hand.

for reference, i’m about three decades old, i’ve been too gay and ho to exist for most of my life, and weho has been where most of my existence has been when i’m not looking for bones and wearing as much lace and black as humanly physically possible in SoCal. all of the places in this video are places i frequently visit and party at.

lemme break this down:

lez be honest ( belle ):

-- is probably a closet gay -- might not even realize they’re gay -- legit doesn’t give a shit and just is out here to have fun and chillin -- trying their best an doin p well -- accidentally offensive  -- kinda weird, is probably a nerd and into weird things, but you know she’s solid af -- you expected her to be a garbage ally, but is actually the coolest person you’ve ever met. -- is aggressively active about human rights and will either march with you or march for you -- is straight up oblivious ngl but she not a nancy so that’s gucci -- you crushed on her at least once because she’s good and got good hair don’t fuccin lie

gogo babies ( half naked dudes ): -- can only be found at The Club -- very greasy? sweaty? either way they glisten like greek gods under dancefloor neon lights are they even real? you literally only see them at The Club -- always naked except for thong undies -- and sneakers, for some reason??? -- are men of little words, but always seem to say enough to make you thirsty af athletic af, can bend in ways no normal gayboi can deal with ( that’s why we out here ) the more money you throw at them the sexier they get this is a fact about bards and gaybabies

thirsty clientele ( every single time you’re at the club ): -- ALWAYS creepin on gogo babies and... well.. literally anyone lbr -- will wait till you’ve had 7 shots of tequila then creep up on your ass from behind -- constant boner? or is it hands? either way it’s nopecity non-consensual and it’s time to flag down security -- they phase into the wall until you look at them and break their disguise and then you’re fuck’d -- honestly nothing about these guys are good they may as well be dementors -- can only be defeated by, literally, any charismatic gay who sees you in trouble and comes to your aid -- #there’s always a gay to protect you thankgod 

shady gays ( dressed in black, shadin tf outta you on the street ): -- relentlessly savage af do not approach without a spine or being dead inside already -- regina george? guuuuurl don’t even play she ain’t even close to this -- will be precious to your face but knives at first base -- can automatically sense if you have knock off designer shit without even looking at it -- better not be wearin last summer’s jimmy choo’s or vera wang ‘cause you bout to be dragged -- will judge you on your love for betsey johnson, but seems to never be seen in public not wearing basic nu goth black ( ugh seriously? that’s soooo forever 21 ) -- vogue is basically their religion -- lady gaga may as well be their fashion inspiration, despite how impractical it is to wear 60% of runway designs -- will cry about anything, especially after drinking two wine coolers

adam and steve ( explanatory gays ) -- you watched Another Gay Movie and Will & Grace and now you get to meet this irl but x20 -- perfect skin and make up like how????? -- you haven’t seen anyone voguing since like 30 years ago but here it is -- rainbow paraphernalia, constantly, somehow -- the pose game here is rivaling JoJo, like you legit cannot compete you can’t even roll for dexterity here -- the actual personification of a unicorn, which is literally just a horse. because horses are extra af already so just glue a stick on they foreheads -- are always bottom. like don’t even suggest being top it’s not gonna happen -- drama... constantly... just.... nah

momma ( ru-paul. literally ) -- that is literally goddamn rupaul -- constantly busy and has zero time for normal conversations -- it’s like you forget ru is gay af and is close to LA and it makes sense to run into them here -- constantly ic lbr -- still manages to be that NPC that gives out real good advice -- is also that NPC you don’t expect to run into, like ever, so you better be ready for a wild adventure -- is your fuckin mom. not even drag mom, they’re you’re mom and is full of mom advice -- still problematic, but also still full of good mom shit

the queens ( of the stone age ) -- don’t even try they’re make up game is stronger than your lift game -- “this man looks better in a dress than i do” and that’s literally how it is just accept it -- are always chaotic fabulous -- will either be chill or problematic there’s no in between -- CONSTANTLY GOSSIPY -- drama? may have originated with them saying some shit while they were too drunk and forgot to not be a decent person -- might say accidentally transphobic shit, but depending on their alignment may actually correct their behavior

lost fitizen ( no homo-bro ) -- #loststraightboy, but lbr he already knows why he’s out here -- constantly nervous and suspicious -- can’t play it cool even if he tried -- is desperately trying to be as macho as possible, but you’ve caught him staring real hard at the gogo babies on more than one occasion -- may masquerade as the token straight garbage at the gay club tryin to feel up on ladies havin fun, but then gets real smooth when you cut in -- is a stoner? is drunk? you’re legit not sure he looks wildly startled, maybe he needs a nap or a snack ( #you #youarethesnack ) -- will offer to be your “work out buddy”............ you’re old enough to know what that shit means -- will either be a toxic fuckboi or your future respectful life partner there is no in between

haterade ( misc religious protestors ) -- srsl wtf r you don’t even go here -- will either be yelling aggressive random bible shit @ you or standing quietly looking dead inside because they’d rather be anywhere else but surrounded by naked gay men -- are literally everywhere, even at anime conventions like wtf -- maybe they need a fuckin nap or a nice salad? -- constantly contradicting their own dialogue when approached and questioned about their “beliefs” -- it’s literally the same people every year you wonder if they have lives or family

woke gaybabies ( literally every other normal gay ) -- blends in like spies or secret agents -- you can go years of your life without knowing they’re anything other than straight -- honestly just came out here to have fun, get some drinks, and cut loose for a night -- is probably your designated driver and suggests that you walk to the ihop a block away to get to food after you’re too drunk to function -- will ( reluctantly ) take care of your stupid drunk gay ass when you’ve had too much -- may be middle aged, but also has a fleeting hope they’ll find a nice person to talk to at the bar -- prefers OK Cupid to Tinder because the thirst difference between the two is too real -- has normal interests, is easily relatable, but are basically unicorns because their impossible to spot in the crowds of extras

the last lesbian alive ( is butch af ) -- in a sea of testosterone, you see a glimmer of estrogen somehow -- has she worn anything other than lumberjack print or doc martens? who honestly knows?? -- is probably more aggressive than your chihuahua do not engage her in a bar fight you will fuckin lose -- buzz cut, heavy set and is very passionate about fur babies and marching for human rights -- is straight up pissed off about the lack of women in weho to chill with like jfc? -- S&M. hands down. you better have the day off from work the next day cause you aint walkin straight the next mornin -- is basically a unicorn, lbr when was the last time you saw a fresh real lesbian in sausage fest weho -- will either be batshit or wholesome and good, there IS no in between gurlfrond -- will build you a house, but unlike your dad stuck in his shitty marriage, will actually fuckin do it, and it will be everything you ever hoped it would be