#Now Larry has to try and think of a way to write this off as a business expense while sounding sane

[caterpillarinacave]

Using the computer as a babysitter for Jed and Octavius is all fun and games until they figure out how to use Larry’s credit card

[girlboypersonthingy]

Could you maybe write a Sally Face One Shot, where Sal developed a huge crush on reader. But he thinks she doesn’t feel the same way. So he writes a love letter in which he puts no hope in, but then she actually tells him she does feel the same.

Does that even make any sense?😭

Yes…it makes sense and I’m weeping over this omggggg 😭😭😭 bruh this had me screaming and kicking in bed as I wrote it omfgggggg. Sal is pretty smart so I know this mf would write some pretty, thought out, poetic type shit

Notes: gn!reader, established friendship, friends to lovers trope

TW: none, just so fucking sappy and fluffy

Sal x reader- Sincerely Sally 💌

Dear (Y/N),

I want to start by telling you that you’re an amazing friend. I’m beyond grateful we’ve met. You’ve always made me feel so comfortable, so wanted, so important. No words could ever truly explain my feelings for you or the thoughts behind them, but I’m going to try.

Since we met, I’ve seen nothing but good in you and I think you’ve made me good, too. You make me feel good. You make me a better person. I don’t know who I’d be without you, but I know who I want to be now.

I want to be the one on your arm when we walk into a room.

I want to be the one you wake up to every morning and fall asleep next to every night.

I want to kiss you every time we say ‘good bye’ and every time we say ‘hello’ again.

I want to be the one you point to with a smile and say ‘him’ when talking to others.

I want to be the one to hold you when you cry.

I want to be the one to hug you when you’re excited.

I want to go every where you go.

I want to slow dance with you.

I want to head bang with you.

I want to paint with you.

I want to sing to you.

I want to hold you.

I want you.

I love you.

I’m in love with you.

And I’m sorry.

Sincerely,

Sally <3

Sal felt like a total loser while sneaking over to your place, which was just down the street from Todd’s house, and slipping the letter in your mailbox. He felt like he could puke just from writing the letter, there’s no way he could ever say these things to your face. He couldn’t help but hesitate, staring at the mailbox as his heart beat rapidly in his chest. ‘They’re going to hate me. I’m gonna ruin everything. What the hell am I doing?’ Sal thinks to himself, staying frozen in place for a good few minutes as thousands of thoughts race through his mind, shaky hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets.

He jumps a bit when he notices the light in your bedroom flick on through your window. He ducks his head and turns to leave, not wanting to get caught lurking around your house in the middle of the night. As he rushes back home, the panic begins to set in because now he realizes he left it…he left the letter behind. It was done. No turning back. He felt sick to his stomach and like he was already grieving the loss of your friendship.

Sal tip toes back in the house, praying neither Neil nor Todd would catch him sneaking in so late and ask questions. He trudges to his room, shedding his clothes before flopping onto his bed. Sal lays on his side and after taking his prosthetic off, stares at the wall for hours thinking about all the ways this could go wrong, all the ways you could reject him, every excuse and lie he could use later to act like it wasn’t even serious, like it was a dumb joke or something. Finally, after his brain had tortured him enough, he drifts off to sleep just before the sun begins to rise.

~next morning~

‘Holy shit…’ You think as you hold the piece of lined note book paper in your shaky hands. “No way…no way!” A giddy smile grows on your face as you clumsily drop all the other mail you had in your hands, besides Sal’s letter, on the ground and take off running for him. It was early in the morning and you were in pajamas still but nothing could stop you now. His house was not far at all and you were too excited not to immediately run to him and profess your love for him.

You and Sal had been friends almost as long as he has with Larry and Todd. You’ve slowly fallen in love with him just as hard as he has with you- the issue is that you are both dummies and think the other person sees you as a friend and a friend only. You’d find yourself dreaming of Sal, not knowing he was dreaming of you too. You’d absentmindedly doodle his name on piece of paper and blush, he’d find a strand of your hair on his shirt and smile so big under his mask. You two have been pining for so long but both so afraid to wreck the relationship you already have. Eventually, Sal felt like he couldn’t get anything done, couldn’t focus on his studies or the ghosts or even eating throughout the day. His brain was full, flooded even, with thoughts of you. He just had to get it out, he had to say it to you now or he would be haunted by it forever. Unbeknownst to Sal…you felt the exact same way.

Bouncing up to his doorstep with an uncontrollable smile on your face, cheeks aching and turning red, you knock on the door and ball your fists up out of excitement. Finally, Todd answers the door, smiling at you before greeting you. “(Y/N)! What are you doing here so early? We-“ “Sal! I-I’m sorry. I need to talk to Sal.” You interrupt, your crazy smile making Todd chuckle softly just as Neil comes up behind him. “Morning, (Y/N)! Sal isn’t up yet. He’s still-“

You weren’t trying to be rude, you adored Todd and Neil but you were currently completely 100% hyperfixated on the sleeping blue haired poet behind the door at the end of the hall way and you just had to see him immediately. “I-I’m sorry…” You laugh softly as you push past them, sprinting for his door, gripping the knob excitedly before swinging the door open. The sound of the door swinging back against the door frame stirs Sally from his sleep, making him groan and glance over at the doorway. Before he can react to you being in his bedroom, in your pajamas still with bed head and an adorable love sick smile on your face, you’re jumping into his blankets with arms wide open. As you practically belly flop on top of him, he huffs softly then chuckles, groggily blinking at you.

“Uh…morning…” He mumbles just before you place the folded love letter on his chest, giving him a small smirk. His eyes open wider now, his prosthetic eye not in its usual socket. Sal scrambles nervously to sit up more, his breath hitching in his throat. He was so half asleep for a moment there, he had forgotten all about the letter he planted in your mailbox last night. “Oh I uh….yeah uh-uhm-“ Sal can’t seem to move his mouth correctly, can’t focus his brain on the words he wants to say. And he just breaks down even more when he realizes you’re in his bed, still in pajamas with the cutest messiest bed head. He can’t deal with the cuteness and his gnawing anxiety…So you speak up instead.

“I love you too.” You smile sweetly before pulling yourself up closer to his scarred face and rubbing your nose against his. Sal lets out a whiny little hum as he lets his nervous hands very slowly move up to rest on your back, smiling like a sappy dork as he hugs you softly. He’s not sure what exactly he was expecting to happen after giving you that letter but this is most definitely the best case scenario. “Let’s just…fucking kiss already.” You say with a cheeky smile, eyes half lidded as you lean in closer. Sal sucks in a breath before letting his eyes close along with yours, pursing his lips out as his hands move up your arms and to your cheeks. His big palms caress your face so perfectly, his thumbs sliding back and forth over your skin as you lock lips, gently moving your mouths together as soft sighs leave both of you.

As his hands pull your face closer, your hands wander up and down his bare arms, legs tangled up in his blankets along with him now, you couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh against his lips. “I’m glad you finally told me…that letter was so beautiful.” You whisper, lips gently ghosting against his now. Sal keeps his eyes closed but smiles brightly. “I wrote 153 of those letters.” He confesses, face burning bright red. “No you didn’t.” You scoff, looking down at him, finding this fact hilarious and also adorable and flattering.

“Oh yes he did!” Todd and Neil are leaning in the open doorway. Oops…you got so excited you didn’t shut the door behind you when you ran in. “Proof!” Neil laughs out loudly as he points to Sal’s trash can in the corner of the room, overflowing with balled up pieces of paper. You laugh as you look over, Neil and Todd laughing along with you. Sal drapes an arm over his face, trying to hold back his flustered smile and embarrassed expression. “Stoopppp.” He complains before you’re standing and playfully glaring at the two boys in the doorway. “That’s enough teasing. Shoo!” You grin at Todd before shutting the door on them and turning back to Sal.

“153, huh? Wow. That’s some dedication, lover boy.” You climb back into his bed, sitting cross legged beside him. “Why didn’t you just tell me in person, Sal? Would’ve been way easier.” You scoot closer to him and run your fingers through his tangled hair. “Uh, I totally disagree. I nearly had a panic attack just putting that letter in your mailbox and then having to walk away from it.” A laugh rings out from you as you toss your head back. “Ha! So, What? You’re afraid to say you love me but not afraid of ghosts or demons or cults?” You taunt him before leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes for a second. “You’re strange. And I love that about you.” You rest there with him for a moment before a fantastic idea hits you, making you sit up and gasp excitedly.

“Can I read the other ones too?!” Before Sal can answer, you’ve jumped up and ran to the rejected pile of love letters in the corner. “No! (Y/N)! No no nononononono!” Sal jumps up and runs to tackle you, his face blushing so red from his ears and down his neck. You laugh loudly as he wraps his arms around your waist and tries to pull you away from all the other embarrassing things he wrote and considered saying to you. “They’re…in the trash…for a reason!” He laughs and huffs as you you push forward, trying to reach even just one crumpled up piece of paper. “Pleeaaassseeeee?” You plead but your strength leaves you as Sal tickles you and has you cackling on the ground instantly.

And the next 10 minutes are spent wrestling with him on the floor of his bedroom while laughing like drunk idiots and occasionally pressing a kiss to the other’s lips. Eventually, you do get ahold of a few of the discarded love letter drafts and they are either like Shakespeare poetry type shit, or so fucking dorky and corny, full of puns and shit. Larry probably tried to help him with that one lol

[velvees-archive]

art cr: @cokiicookies on twitter

Tags: Love Confessions, Bratfeen, Art Student Feenie, Law Student Bratworth, Ace Attorney-typical cringefail, Canon Divergence

and many others!

HEAVILY inspired by @cokiicookies's bratfeen art on twitter! check out the full comic there!!!

"Hey...so...uh..." Phoenix coughs out, voice scratchy from his most recent line repetitions. It's a small mistake, not unsalvageable. All he has to do is stick to the script. Stick to the script. Stick... His eyes flick down to his note cards. He swears he’d printed them in his best penmanship, atop one of the library's extra premium desks, but everything is spinning and he feels faintly like he's going to throw up. "Did you uh," he starts, letters swirling in his eyes. "Did...you fall out of heaven...?" Genius prosecutor-in-training Miles Edgeworth regards him with a blank stare. Phoenix thinks now would be an opportune time for him to locate the nearest possible bridge and promptly jump off of it. - The joys and woes (mostly woes) of being in love, as told by BratFeen.

so i caved and wrote narumitsu. another huge thank you to @cokiicookies on twitter for allowing me to write an accompanying fic for their work. i attached some of the comic here in an attempt to entice you to look at their comic (well? are you enticed?!), but if you wanna see the full thing, please do give their art a like, a retweet, a comment, and all the love on twitter! fic screenshots below:

misc commentary/musings under the cut :)

the way i wrote feenie inner monologue and narration parallels my informal writing style, so writing his freak outs weren't challenging. consciously changing sentence structures/verbiage to be more or less extra, on the other hand, totally was.

the bulk of my pain came from writing fluff in the first place, stumbling through dialogue exchanges (as always), and attempting larry dialogue...all of which i honestly think i failed at pretty badly HAHA. who cares tho? it's my work!

bratfeen is one of my favorite narumitsu "eras" if you will. i've always wanted to write them. i didn't know the opportunity would come so soon (and at my expense considering i still have a zine fic to finalize for a diff fandom), but i took the shot. the full fic was written over the course of a day which i do not recommend anyone experience. i was on a writing hiatus for months and wrote 8k words as soon as i came back. do you see why i burnt out in the first place?

the easiest part about writing bratfeen is that none of the things i write are exaggerated for the purpose of carrying the plot forward. feenie believing that bratworth is better of a human being than everyone makes him out to be? sounds about right. feenie insisting to others that miles is the best thing since grilled cheese? his raging savior complex says that's likely to occur. feenie fumbling the bag because he thinks miles is the prettiest thing he's ever seen? yeah, 20 y/o feenie would! feenie shoving the asshole who talked shit abt miles? we saw the exact same thing with doug swallow (and we all know how that ended...). all of it is in line w his character. also miles being a try hard. that's a given.

i am hoping i can showcase more of my technical skill aka the angst writer in me with my next work, though i've been closely following fictober (haven't been publishing because, again, zine fic obligations) and have plenty of angsty fics stored in my drafts. i hope you enjoy my poor attempt at humor and fluff. may i muster the strength to finish the rest of my zine fic...please...

[sillyrabbit81]

Scars

Prompt: Intense & Angry, Bath or Shower Sex from @livesinfantasyland (x) Thank you!

Pairing: Evan Marshall x Female Reader

Word Count: Approx. 2.1k

Warnings: Smut with Angst, arguing, p in v sex, m dom vibes

Authors Note: As always I need to thank my amazing mates and readers @nashibirne  and @amberangel112, your thoughtful and honest comments are always appreciated.

This is my first time ever writing Evan. It was a tough one for me to attempt with Evan because it isn't the prompt I would have picked, but I enjoyed writing a new character and had fun with it. Once again, this is longer than I initially planned and I hope you enjoy it.

Edited by me, there will be errors.

Dividers by me.

Masterlist

Celebration Masterlist

“We need to talk.”

You don’t need to look up from undoing your boots to know who has barged into the women’s locker room and spoken. You’d know Evan’s voice anywhere, you’ve worked with him on and off for a few years now.

“I think you said enough on the ride back here,” you say, trying to stay calm.

“Not nearly enough,” he says, “You still don’t think you did anything wrong.”

You stand up, still not looking at him and start undoing your overshirt. “Would you have given the same instruction to Larry?”

“What’s that got to do with it?”

“Would you have given the same instruction to a man?”

“Oh Jesus Christ, here we go,” Evan says, looking to the ceiling and clenching his fist.

“Or did you only try and stop me from doing my job because you used to fuck me and now you feel guilty?”

“It’s got nothing to do with that!” Evan shouts, punching out at the row of lockers across you.

You take a step back from him, your eyes wide. Evan has always had a slight temper, but for him to physically lash out like that isn’t something you would expect. He notices your reaction and his face softens. You consider letting it go, you’ve made your point and don’t need his apology. It isn’t as if it was ever serious between you two, it had only ever been a casual thing. However, this conversation has been a long time coming and you need to have it out.

“It has everything to do with it,” you tell him, “You changed. Since you disappeared for weeks last Halloween, you’ve changed. I know things wouldn’t be the same after we stopped hooking up, but I didn’t expect you to be so fucking cold.”

“How am—”

Evan cuts himself off with a strangled curse as your hand rests against his chest.

“Don’t touch me there,” he says without seeming to breathe and his face twists with fury.

You withdraw your hand and the two of you stare each other down. Evan opens his mouth to say something but then clenches his jaw closed so hard his teeth clash against each other audibly.

“Fuck it,” he mutters and abruptly turns and walks away.

“Come back! This isn’t done,” you call to him.

“Fuck you,” he says and leaves the room, slamming the door behind him.

You stare after him, trying to smother the rage that boils deep in your guts. You don’t know how long you stand there with your eyes closed and fists clenched, breathing deeply through your nose until your fury simmers.

But it doesn’t. 

If anything, the longer you stand there the angrier you feel. Your mind starts to work over every interaction you’ve had with him since he came back. Every rejected advance, every cold comment and every frosty glance plays over and over like a best of compilation in your mind switching from one to another until you can’t take it anymore. Without being aware of what you’re doing until you're pushing the men’s locker room door open, you follow him, and stomp your way to the showers.

The sight that greets you makes you gasp. Evan stands under the shower naked, gloriously so. His chiselled face is so handsome that you sometimes forget he has the body to match; tall, athletically toned with the bare minimum of fat overlaying his sinewy muscles. He’s thinner than the last time you saw him, and that isn’t the only thing that has changed.

Beneath the rivulets of steaming water that run down his chest and amongst the hair that grows across his pecs is a scar. It is new, it hadn’t been there before. You’ve seen enough stabbing and knife attack victims to know the scar isn’t from a fight. It looks purposeful, like it was done by design; the lines too straight and too much like a symbol to have been done by accident.

You raise your eyes to Evan's and the unasked question is written all over your face.

“I can’t tell you,” he says, simply, “don’t ask me to.”

You step over the tile lip and into the shower space. Warm water seeps into your socks, but you barely notice. All you can see is the frigid intensity of his once warm eyes. 

“Just tell me you’re okay,” you say, advancing slowly, drawn so powerfully towards him you can’t stop yourself until you’re under the spray with him, completely indifferent the way your undershirt quickly dampens and sticks to your body.

Evan’s brows draw together and he blinks rapidly but doesn’t answer.

“What can I do?” you ask in a whisper.

He flinches like your words are a slap. Then his face hardens and a grim determination settles in his beautiful but bleak blue eyes.

“You don’t want any part of this,” he says. “Or any part of me.”

“Is that why you’re acting like this?” you ask. Gingerly, you lift your hand to his chest and trace the edge of his scar, careful not to touch it. “You think I wouldn’t want you?”

Without warning his hands are on your cheeks and his mouth is over yours, the edges of your lips are grazed by his short whiskers and you feel a tingle work its way across your skin. You recover quickly from the shock, encircling his neck with your arms and running your fingers over the wet and velvety hair on his head. You move in closer, pressing your sodden clothed body against him.

It isn’t enough. You want to feel him, you want to feel his humid skin all over you. He must have thought the same thing because he breaks the kiss with a groan. His hands work on your belt and you pull your undershirt off over your head, letting it drop to the tiles with a splash you barely register.

His lip curls as he drops his head to roughly capture your breast in his hand and close his mouth around your nipple. You shiver as he sucks on you through the cotton of your bra, the heat of his mouth is so much hotter than even the water that sears at your skin.

You let your head fall back and you close your eyes as you relish the feeling of his mouth on you. Your knees start to feel weak as his hand works its way determinedly into your panties, his fingers working to separate the thick sodden work clothes away from your skin. You grab hold of his shoulders to steady yourself and feel pure muscle rippling under his sweltering, smooth skin. You run your hand down his back, following the path of his spine, until your fingers encounter hardened and raised skin.

Another new scar.

Quickly you snatch back your hand and your eyes snap to Evan. He looks up at you with stormy, fierce eyes and grazes your bud with his teeth before he releases you. A tremor of fear runs down your spine.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, in a quivering voice.

He nods, takes hold of your waist and guides you to turn around until you're facing the tiled wall. He presses his body against you from behind and you can feel his hard cock against the small of your back. His arm wraps around your waist holding you in place while his other hand slides your sticking pants down your thighs.

“I know.” Evan’s lips brush against the shell of your ear as he speaks in a low voice that leaves no room for argument. “Put your hands on the wall.”

A heady rush of heat hits you between your legs and nearly drops you to your knees. 

Evan notices and tightens his arm around your waist. “I’ve got you, baby. Hands on the wall. Now.”

“Yes…” you whimper, reaching your shaking hands out to the large square white tiles. Your skin is so electrified and sensitive that even the rough texture of the grout under the pads of your fingers threatens to overwhelm you. 

His velvety hot tongue runs a thick strip up your neck as he latches onto you and sucks on the thin skin beneath your ear. Your whole body thrums deep within you, you feel close to orgasm and he hasn’t even really touched you yet.

This was a far cry from the way he had always been with you before. It wasn’t that sex wasn’t good with Evan in the past, it absolutely was, he had always been generous. But he was never what you’d call dominant at all and he was straight up vanilla, almost reserved. You don’t think he’d ever even taken you from behind.

His teeth sink into your earlobe as he tilts your hips and slips a foot between yours to inch your feet apart.

“Stay just like that for me,” he instructs, huskily and you moan, hoping he takes the warbling sound of your voice as agreement.

Soft, hot skin presses against your pussy, forcing your lips to part. You gasp in shock, but it quickly morphs into a gasp of pure pleasure as the thick tip of Evan’s cock rubs against your slick and swollen hidden skin.

“Are you still on the pill?” he asks.

You nod, turning your head towards his.

“Good. I’m going to cum inside you,” he says.

He enters you in one swift and hard thrust. You both cry out and he breathes hard into your ear as he holds himself deep inside you and gives you a moment to get used to his size.

“Evan,” you whine faintly, leaning your head against his shoulder.

He kisses your temple gently. The tenderness makes your eyes widen, but it's a short reprieve.

“Hang on,” he says.

He moves, slowly dragging himself from your core. Then his fingers dig hard into your hips and he pumps hard into you, using your hips for leverage. With each powerful drive, Evan pulls your hips back to meet him and you can’t stop yourself from crying out as he fills you. Your bodies slap hard against each other, the sound mixing with your cries and his grunts of effort. Together the cacophony echoes lewdly through the steam of the shower and bounces off the tiles.

Your head drops and you lean it on your outstretched and locked arms as you brace yourself against his brutal but oh so fucking good onslaught. Then he leans forward until his chest covers your back. One of his hands snakes its way from your hips to between your legs and his fingers slide over your sensitive and throbbing clit.

“Need you to come with me,” he rumbles through his groans.

It’s the kind of thing you’d usually roll your eyes at, but Evan knows your body; he knows just how to touch you to get you over the edge. His mouth latches on your neck, licking, sucking, and grazing his teeth over your vein, while his fingers dance over your clit and he never lets up the primal, fervid pace of his fucking.

“Come with me,” he demands with a guttural growl into your ear.

Your body trembles as your orgasm threatens with such force that your legs give out, and your hands slip from the wall.

“I’ve got you,” Evan assures you as he brings you both to the floor. He pauses just long enough to get you comfortable, slipping your shirt under your knees. “You’re so close, baby. I’ve got you.”

And you are, the brief interruption no match for how aroused and good Evan is making you feel. You reach your peak with a cry and an undulation of your hips that he knows so well. He follows swiftly after, drawing your body so close you can barely breathe and you can feel deep inside you the swelling of his cock with each pulsing release.

As you come down from your high, you concentrate on the sound of the water rather than the ragged breaths of Evan against your ear. Your instincts say you should move, you should run, pretend this never happened, or maybe yell at him some more. 

Then his hands are on your cheeks, turning your face to his and wiping away the water that runs into your eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice full of sincerity and concern.

His tone makes you really look at him. For the first time in months there is something in his voice of the Evan of old. You turn your body towards him and reach for him, not even aware that your hand is resting on the centre of his chest, right over the scarred symbol.

Evan's eyes drop to his chest. You wonder if you should move it, but as he raises his eyes, his hand covers yours and holds it close to his heart right above his new scar.

[shnoob]

  Sal Fisher x GN! Reader

A/N: Hey everybody! Warning this is my first fan-fic writing soooo. If you have any requests, feel free to ask in “Suggestions!” Also, the quote used below is from the TV show “Dexter”.

CW: Angst but turns into fluff <3.  Also warning quality gets bad at the end.

Word Count: 0.8K 

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

You and Sal have been dating for quite awhile. Ever since meeting in high school by Larry, you two have been inseparable. Even when Sal thought by introducing you to the ghosts you’d run away, or seeing his face for the first time you’d find him a “disgrace” or “disgusting”. What he wasn't aware of is that none of that ever mattered to you, nor ever will. Although you’ve reassured many times before this wasn’t the truth, insecurities can take over.

And so tonight when you looked down on your phone, expecting a sweet text from your boyfriend saying goodnight, instead your eyes wandered on a message of goodbye. Although not in exact words, the true meaning behind: “We should talk.” is always a blinded way being one foot deep into your grave. 

Tonight, expecting to put on your favorite mix-tape while getting ready for bed, dreaming of all the ventures you’d go on with Sal, instead you got the wind trying to push you back as you race through the empty streets of Nockfell as it's trying to tell you to go away. Turn back. But you know you never will, not on him. If it wasn't for the wind, it was the solemn look on Larry's face when you knocked on the door of the house the boys shared, staring at you trying to muster up an excuse for being outside so late. “Y/N, I know.”. Is all the tall man said, leaning on the door frame with the moonlight shining on his body. “I really don’t think he wants to see you r-”. “Larry please.”. Trying to push you back out of the house, it was no use as you turned your body away from the scrawny arms and raced up the steps as quietly as you could. 

“..Sal?”

You know he’s in there. The soft plucks of guitar strings, tapping of his foot, and the purrs from Gizmo disturbed as Sal lifts his hand rubbing him due your sudden appearance. “Sal, I know you are in there. Just..please, let’s talk?”. It feels like an eternity passes by waiting for a response from the blue-haired boy. Standing there. Waiting. Lets talk, we should talk. Shuffling comes from behind the door, hearing the weight lean into the planks as the creeks come closer.  

“..Let's talk.”

That's when you saw it. It wasn't anger, disgust, or rejection painted on your boyfriend's face. It was tears. Sadness. A moment of vulnerability. Once from gripping onto the doorknob, it was the shoulders of your boyfriend who now was shaking from underneath you. The noises of sobbing filled your ears as you rubbed his back, rocking back and forth where you stood. “I'm so sorry..” He cried, choking on his words as you felt your sides gripped under his grasp. “You have nothing to apologize for..cmon lets get inside the room, yeah?”. Ushering Sal inside, you managed to get him to his bed despite the lack of light. Neither of you said a word, just staring into the abyss of darkness as you waited for the bluenette to calm down with small “Shushes” and “It's going to be alright.”. Overtime, his breathing from once a rigid pace slows against your hand, squeezing it tight as he swallows. “I’m, so sorry.”. “Dear, don’t-”. “No, seriously. I’m so sorry.”. A familiar touch grabs onto the sides of your face, staring into the orbs of the man you love so dearly. Well, one. “Y/N I..I was thinking. You know everything about my face, my past..my mother.” He whispers the last part, briefly looking off to the side before cutting you off. “I know I don't need to talk about it, but you deserve to know. I’ve always felt like this was how things were meant to be, that I deserved this. From what happened to me to the Addison Apartments, all of it has felt like a path that has been engraved for me. So I never stopped to think that maybe this doesn't apply to everybody; that people don't always get what they deserve..”

“If what you deserve is a white picket fence, and your kids all around, and a husband who loves you. What if the least you deserve is a real human being, and what you get is me?”

Your breath hicks at his last words. “You deserve so much more than this—me. I mean look at me-feel me.”. Moving your hands to his, he guides you up and down his scarred face. “Do you feel this Y/N? This isn't what a boyfr-”. Feeling your lips onto his, a small smile forms onto his face as he grabs you in deeper. “You’re right.” Once you finally break apart, leaving only the spaces for your nose keeping you apart. 

“This is my husband, and I love him dearly. White picket fence and all.”

[the-kr8tor]

heheh angst time- and yes, I did mean I got my ass whooped yesterday aha Daily Hobie HC! I feel like one of his worst fears is having to fight you. Allow me to set up the mood >:) Imagine that you've been taken away from him while Hobie was on a mission. Gone, missing. His guts twist at the sight of your empty side of the bed, tears welling as he constantly has to face the fact he lost you. Then all of a sudden- you're back. As soon as he sees you again, coming through the door, Hobie immediately runs towards you, hugging you, murmuring about how he loves you, how he'll never let you go, how he missed you so much. Time passes, and something's off. Your hugs were cold instead of warm, and your hands were tentative against his skin. Your nails dragging against his skin stung more than it soothed. Even your smile seemed too sweet to be true, with your wide eyes and the eerie, subtle shakes of your pupil. Even the colors of your eyes seemed different, as if it were mixed with a singular drop of another completely opposite color. You've given him multiple scares in the night, with how you seemed to 'get water', and have him wake up to you staring at him. Hobie no longer even wakes up to your warm smile or teasing morning kisses. Instead, it's cold, as you simply just get out of bed and get ready, like you weren't with him at all. He gives you the benefit of the doubt, thinking that maybe something happened while you went missing for you to act oddly, and that you just need space. However, all changes when, as swinging around as Spider-Man on his patrols, you attack, managing to cut him out of the air and crashing into the ground with a swift throw of a knife. Your pupils are entirely glowing an eerie gold, a toothy smile stretching itself on your face. Struck with fear, he tries to swing away, but you simply just keep toying with him. Hobie doesn't understand what had happened, even trying to get close at one point but now blood seeps from his chest. The entire scene he refused to fight you, not wanting to hurt you, even if you seemed to intent on killing you. He knows it's not you. You would never act like this. Whatever was happening wasn't on your behalf. Even as you finally grab ahold of him, thrashing him into every hard surface you could, winding him multiple times as the multitude of bruises and cuts send jolts down his spine. He still doesn't fight back, instead just struggling to try and escape. Even as he knows it's the end. Seeing the shining weapon raised above your head, directed straight to his heart, he doesn't fight back. He's too exhausted. Too pained. Too..in love. "I love you, my lil birdie. An' I will keep lovin' you in every universe." (My sad attempt at a cockney accent please forgive me) "Hobes..hey, Hobieee...Hobart Larry Brown! Wake up!" Aaaanywaysss...you're way too kind, I don't think I could write a fully cyberpunk motorbike au fic.. I could try though maybe- not sure if I'd be able to do R- I may just put my sona but we'll see! Also Katy, what do you think about 'Red Spiders', for Hobie's team?:) -🐦‍⬛

No!! Who do I have to beat up?!! I'm ready to throw hands

DAILY HOBIE HC!!! Get your daily hc here!

AHHHHH CAME BACK WRONG TROPE!! YEEESSS!!!

Hmmm you got me theorizing what happened to them 🤔

Him not fighting back 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

OH THANK GOD IT'S JUST A DREAM!

Oooohh I love how red spiders are now a thing!!

[captain-rickbond]

I have actually several questions if you don't mind? :') (they're mostly about rickbond though, don't worry!) what's an AU and/or trope which suits you for ben and larry the most? coffee shop AU, enemies to lovers, university AU...? who out of those two is more likely to be the household cook? who's more likely to confess they like the other first? or do they do it at the same time? who's the golden retriever and who's the black cat in the relationship? what's an event/activity larry would try and force ben into? and what would be something ben would make larry do? And my final questions are for you and your art and writing specifically: what's a fic you would like to write/are currently writing, but can't seem to finish? do you have any WIPs that you wouldn't mind sharing bits and pieces of? :> when and where do you usually create your drawings? Love your work, I hope you're having a good day! ^^

Hi! okay, here we go:

Favourite AU/trope?

I wrote a coffee shop AU, assassins/hitmen AU and I'm writing three more: bar/pub AU, traumatic as hell AU, and post apocalyptic dystopian world AU (yes, you read that right) - one thing in common for all this stories - awkward first meeting and… friends to lovers? And basically idiots in love trope

Household cook?

Let me answer this way - in one of my wips Laz tries to open a can with a fork and cuts his finger, so…

Who's more likely to confess first?

It seems obvious - Laz is the one to make the first move- wait, now when I actually think about it, it's Ben (in my fics) that's almost always seems to snap first

Golden retriever/black cat?

Laz is the golden retriever, Ben is the cat

Event/activity one would force the other into?

Laz would make Ben attend a cosplay event, they both would be dressed as stormtroopers so no one would know it's them. (I definitely have not started on a drawing with them as stormtroopers…)

Ben would make Larry throw away all of his lego sets boxes bc they clutter the space and-

"Laz, have you actually deassembled any of this and put it back into a box? Like ever? Because if not, we're throwing it all awa-"

"-but-"

"-this way we're gonna have more space for new sets."

"…"

"…"

"Okay."

What I am currently writing?

I have 11 wips, and I would love to finish ANY of them… some are too short, some are way too long. There are funny ones (I hope), and hot ones. Every story has an unhealthy amount of angst, and one is sad as hell

When and where do I draw?

I draw at night, I don't really have time during the day. I take my ipad to bed, snuggle in with my cat, put some music on (I can't be left alone with my thoughts) and I draw until I hear my neighbour slam the door outside - every day at 4am - and then I go to sleep and wake up at 8 to go to work

A fragment of my crazy rickbond post apocalyptic dystopian world AU wip ↴

“Hey.”

Larry looked up, yanking out the cloth stuck behind the waistband of his pants, and wiping his greasy hands on it.

“…”

“Well, hello Ben! How was your day? Have you killed someone over a piece of junk again, today?”

Larry rolled his eyes and placed his hand on the seat of the bike, pushing himself off the ground with a huff.

“What you want?”

“A bit of tenderness?”

“Don’t we all?” Larry whispered under his breath and threw the cloth on the ground. “You got something for me?”

Ben sent him a small smile and pulled out a rusty bit of metal from behind his back.

“Happy birthday.” He waved his hand in front of Larry’s face.

“It’s not my birthday.” The younger man grumbled and snatched the part from Ben’s hand.

“Every day is your birthday when you get gifts like that,” Larry sighed and placed the part on the seat of the bike. “and you didn’t tell me when your birthday is, so I’m gonna celebrate it every day.”

“Are you done? I’ve got work to do.”

“Oh… come on,” Ben chuckled. “I know it’s all fucked up but at least we can laugh about it, right?”

Larry looked up and frowned.

“Right…”

Ben walked over and sat on a wooden crate, placing his elbows on his knees and releasing a deep sigh.

Okay, so is he planning on just sitting here?

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

Ben raised his head and smiled sadly.

“Not really.”

Okay, great.

The bike Larry was working on was actually his for once. He was grounded. All because of the damaged needle valve - small piece of shit that you can’t actually fix. You have to get a new one to even start the fucking engine.

Larry made a promise to himself.

Once he’ll get one, he will leave.

“Can you go be annoying somewhere else?” Larry dropped to his knees and fidgeted with one of the cables sticking out from behind the seat of the bike.

“You’re being mean, I thought you're a nice guy,” Ben sounded defeated. “aren’t you?”

“No,” Larry muttered. “I’m not.”

...

───

this may be the weirdest thing I’ve ever written, blame the Mad Max movies

[your-divine-ribs]

Red Part 5

Words: 2.6k

No warnings for this part but maybe Red Van should come with his own warning ❤️

I’m excited to bring back the Halloween party again, loved writing the next few chapters xxx

Red Masterlist Main Masterlist

"I don't know what I did to deserve you Y/N. Must have been something pretty special."

"Oh, I don't know about that..."

You're applying a slick of glossy pink to your lips, appraising your reflection in the mirror whilst your boyfriend watches on from his position stretched out on the bed. His words reach you, causing your gut to clench, an involuntary reaction to his praise. You force a smile, aware that he can see your reflection but you don't turn around. Not even when he rises up from the bed and comes to stand behind you, his hands resting gently on your hips and his chin hovering over your shoulder. You just carry on looking at your joint reflection, the caring, devoted boyfriend and the conniving, sneaky girlfriend, the image wracking you through with guilt, so much so that you can't stand it, twisting out of his embrace and stepping to the side, mumbling that you have lots of things to do before the party guests arrive.

Larry lets you go.

If he's noticed the change in your behaviour the past few weeks then he hasn't said anything, he just goes about his daily life the way he always handles things, with a spring in his step and a smile on his lips, the eternal optimist who never lets things get him down. But then, why would he fret that he has anything to worry about with regards to your relationship? As far as he's concerned you're as much in love as you have been all these years, and why should he think any different? Why should he suspect that his sweet, loving girlfriend and his loyal childhood best friend would be playing such a dangerous game? And you do still love him, you really do, but, as you're beginning to realise, your moral compass is severely impaired, the thoughts of a clandestine, sleazy hook up with Van consuming your every waking moment, the temptation too strong to turn away from. But you have to try...

The downstairs of the house is decorated just right. Creepy cobwebs and tacky Halloween props adorn every available surface, the lighting dim and subdued, provided by the eerie flicker of the fake candles that you've purchased. You look around, satisfied with your handiwork, untwisting a bottle of vodka and pouring a large measure into the cauldron themed punch-bowl.

The guests are due to start arriving in around ten minutes and you're all set so you take the opportunity to pour yourself a glass of wine, taking a large gulp and leaning back against the kitchen counter. Your reflection in the glass door of the microwave looks back at you, the sparkling halo that's nestled in the soft waves piled up on your head glittering in the dim light. You're an angel, dressed in virginal white although not entirely purely in a figure-hugging dress which compliments your figure, the bodice shaped perfectly to show off your enviable curves and the skirt long and flowing but cut daringly right up to the thigh.

It was weeks before that you'd put together your outfit and it was probably more fitting back then. Now the notion that you could be anything close to angelic just seems absurd. But you could be. You can put things right. You've not gone far enough that you can’t backtrack and turn this whole situation around, put an end to this treacherous flirtation with Van and ask him to stay far away from you. No... not ask him. Tell him to stay away. In no uncertain terms.

You wonder what he'll come dressed as tonight. He's kept pretty tight-lipped about his outfit, but knowing him he'll make minimal effort for the occasion.

"How long d'ya reckon that halo's gonna stay intact for tonight then, Y/N?"

The presence in the doorway wrenches you out of your thoughts and you whip your head up just in time to see Van entering the kitchen and your eyes widen and your jaw drops agape.

You've got to be fucking kidding me...

You're right about the minimal effort, but that's just the thing with Van. He doesn't have to try very hard and yet he still somehow manages to shine. He's dressed in his signature skinny black jeans and a deep burgundy shirt which is unbuttoned down to mid-chest, his gold pendant catching the light. You wouldn't know he was attending a Halloween soirée if it wasn't for the set of shiny red devil's horns perched on top of his head, but they compliment his wicked smile perfectly, a sinful sparkle in his eye as he lets his gaze rake slowly down over your body and back up, taking his time, leaving you in no doubt of his unholy intentions.

You try to maintain a neutral expression, raising an eyebrow like you're not at all impressed even though the mere sight of him is enough to set your pulse racing.

"Well look who it is... the devil himself."

Van doesn't get chance to answer before Bondy pushes past him into the kitchen. In typical Bondy fashion he's really gone to town, skin daubed a ghastly green, ridiculous wig on his head, he's even painted his fingernails for the occasion you notice as he reaches into the fridge to retrieve a bottle of beer.

"Alright guys and ghouls!" He grins, looking between you and Van and then back to you again, shooting you a cheeky wink. "Looking good Y/N. I must say that halo really suits you. I never had you pegged as the angelic type!"

"Thanks John," you smile back, ignoring Van who's nearly spat a mouthful of beer across the kitchen trying to hide a snigger as a cough. "So what have you come as then?"

"Johnny Ramone... on loan from the pet cemetery... for one night only!"

"You look great... really good. And it's so good to see that some people have made an effort anyway. Not like Van's shit attempt!"

You look past Bondy, giving Van a pointed look and he shrugs.

"Think I look pretty good actually," he counters which earns him a sarcastic huff from you.

"Not very original though is it? In fact it's actually pretty crap. Zero imagination!"

"And what makes you think I give a shit about what you think huh?"

His tone is cold now as he scowls at you from across the top of his beer bottle and a warm glow of satisfaction sparks in you. He's so used to getting his ego massaged that he can't stand criticism.

"For fucks sake you two, I thought Larry said you'd made up?"

You've almost forgotten that Bondy's there even though he's standing right next to you. You're too busy glaring at Van, holding his steely gaze, trying to turn as much of the self-loathing that you currently feel for desiring him into hatred. But try as you might, you just can't ignore the fact that as much as he infuriates you, you still want to launch yourself at him and tear at his clothes.

"It's not like I'm not trying mate, but you see what I have to put up with, it's bloody constant!" Van complains, like he's the innocent party in all of this and that just grates on you even more.

"Fucking dickhead," you mumble under your breath, watching Bondy backing away, shaking his head in puzzlement at where your sudden scathing attack has come from.

"I'm outta here guys..."

You decide that it's probably a good time to retreat yourself, satisfied that you've wound Van up enough, your pulse quickening as you see the flash of anger in his eyes.

"What was that?"

He advances on you so you whirl around quickly, turning for the doorway that Bondy's just walked through but you stumble on your heels, sending you lurching over to the side. As first you think he's reaching for you to steady you, but it soon becomes clear that he's not. He uses the momentum you've picked up to drive you back against the wall, hard, your back crashing against it with enough force to make you gasp.

"What did you fucking say?"

He's looming over you now, eyes blazing whilst he stares you down, but you don't feel intimidated. Not in the slightest. You just feel hugely fucking turned on. It doesn't matter that you're in the kitchen of the house he shares with your boyfriend which is rapidly filling with party guests who could walk in at any moment. You just want to push him even further. You want to see what happens when you push him to breaking point. Tempt him to pin you up against the wall in anger and take his frustrations out on you whilst he rails you into oblivion.

"You heard me. I said... you're a… fucking… dickhead."

You draw out your words, finishing your statement with a smirk, intended to provoke and it works. Van's lips curl into a smile too, but there's no warmth in it, just anger with a large dose of smugness at his perceived upper hand. He quickly raises a hand to catch your chin just under the jaw, pressing your head back against the wall. The sexual tension radiating off him is almost palpable and you can feel it too, a steady throb pulsing between your thighs as he brings his face close to yours.

"You'd better watch that dirty mouth of yours angel, or it's gonna get you into trouble."

Fuck... you want so badly to grasp at his hips and push your body up against his. You can hear voices in the hallway, the sound of greetings being exchanged as guests start to arrive. You need to stop this now, but you just can't help yourself.

"Oh, really? What you gonna do huh? If you want me to shut up you're gonna have to make me!"

"Oh I fucking will..."

"Van mate! Where are ya? Sophie's just turned up!"

Larry's voice rings out and you realise that he's close, he's literally on the other side of the door, and you suck in a breath as Van releases you in a flash, stepping away and shooting you a warning glare before he reaches for the door handle, his angry demeanour instantly dissipating as if it was never there at all.

And then your ardour is cooled in the blink of an eye as Van draws open the door to reveal Sophie standing there looking pristine and perfect, her glossy brunette mane cascading from under a wide brimmed witches hat, her soft curves accentuated perfectly by the slinky black dress that she's barely wearing. Van's eyes nearly pop out of his head and you feel a sharp stab of jealously piercing your heart in a way which is totally unexpected. It leaves you stunned for a moment as you watch her reaching for him and pulling him into a hug, leaning back a moment later to reveal a cherry-red puckered lip-print on his cheek.

"Oops I've got lippy all over you!" She giggles, raising a hand up to wipe it off but Van catches her wrist to stop her, beaming at her in a way which just twists the dagger in your heart.

"Nah, leave it love, I reckon it just adds to my outfit." Then he turns to you, brazenly smug smile turned up to full wattage. "What d'ya reckon Y/N? Is it an improvement?" Then back to Sophie. "She said I looked shit!"

You bite back a savage remark and force your lips into a sweet smile with just a hint of bitterness that only Van will notice, practically gritting your teeth as you notice Sophie's arm curl around Van's waist as she nestles into his side.

"Really?" Her eyes are wide with disbelief as she looks between you and Van, her eyes lingering appreciatively on him. "Well I think you look great... as always. You always look gorgeous!"

You reach for your wine glass, swallowing the contents down with yet another snide remark which is desperate to burst forth, letting out a dramatic sigh instead. "Gods sake, don't inflate his ego, he won't be able to fit through the door at this rate!"

Sophie laughs loudly. "Well he might look good, but look at you! I absolutely love your dress! You look amazing... doesn't she Van?"

Van opens his mouth to speak but Sophie doesn't give him chance, she's gushing in a way which makes you think she's probably already indulged in a few drinks before the party's even started.

"In fact I need to get a photo... of the two of you. The angel and the devil. It's perfect! Come on... come on guys!"

She unwraps her arm from around Van as she speaks, pushing him towards you, waving her phone around in her other hand, conducting you both into place. You just stand there, furtively glancing at Van, cringing inside as Sophie babbles on excitedly about how good you both look together and how she wishes she'd chosen a similar outfit to yours.

She snaps a few shots of you both standing stiffly, shoulder to shoulder, glancing at her phone screen with a little frown on her face, before she's holding it up again. "Come on, it's a party! At least look like you're having fun! Come on, get a bit closer!" She waves a hand to demonstrate. "Put your arm around her Van. Smile Y/N!"

She's drunk... definitely drunk. In fact she seems plastered. She wobbles slightly in her heels, giggling again.

"Don't look so worried Y/N. He's got gonna corrupt a sweet little angel like you!"

You force out a giggle of your own at her comment, cringing as you feel Van's arm snake around your waist, fingers splayed wide as he holds you firmly, pulling you to him in a tight embrace.

"Ah shit!"

Sophie's squeal is loud and piercing as her phone slips from her fingers, clattering on to the kitchen tiles. You watch, amused, as she lurches forward to grab for it, miscalculating and managing to kick it even further across the floor with the toe of her stiletto.

"Oops!"

"Christ! How many you had?" Van exclaims.

He doesn't make a move to help her though, sighing deeply instead, muttering something unintelligible under his breath. You suppose you should really assist her, stumbling drunk as she is, but you don't. Instead you feel a wicked sense of glee at Van's obvious disapproval, enjoying the fact that his arm's still locked around you whilst his date is left helplessly floundering.

"Are ya pissed already love?"

Larry's entered the kitchen now with an empty beer bottle in hand, searching for a refill. More chivalrous than Van, he instantly stoops down to help Sophie retrieve her phone, their heads clashing as they both move forward in unison. Laughter erupts from both of them as they stagger backwards, completely distracted now from you and Van.

And you should be moving away, you really should. You've spent far too long lingering in the kitchen, stoking the fires of this dangerous attraction when you should be avoiding Van altogether. But there's something that excites you about the way he's holding you firmly, his fingers gently kneading at your hip. It's a subtle gesture but it's sending flurries of exhilaration through you. Maybe it's the fact that Sophie and Larry are right in front of you and completely oblivious, caught up in laughing at their silly mishap. Unmindful of the fact that Van's tilted his head to the side to whisper softly into your ear, his breath ticking your skin in a way that makes you shiver.

"Tonight Y/N. I gotta have you."

[br1ghtestlight]

random thought but i love eugene mirman's gene sounds ESPECIALLY when gene is sleeping. they're so good & cute

louise tina bob and linda looking @ gene literally exactly like this when he forgets how his song goes at breakfast LMAOO

love that tina and louise seem to actually pay attention to what songs gene is writing and what they're about despite the fact that there are SO MANY. supportive family <3

gene's dream.... bro that was god speaking to you. like for real wtf

also im only a minute in and there are SO MANY good screenshots already he's such a cutie i love him so much!!!! <3 gene episodes my beloved

"Now I'm going to change into last night's pajamas, AKA my only pajamas, and brush my teeth with Tina's toothbrush because that's what I accidentally did last night."

"Wait, what?"

gene and tina are so silly?? 😭

me and gene share many similarities including waking up in the middle of the night every two hours for no fucking reason. like THATS relatable

MR AMBROSE APPEARANCE LETS FUCKING GOOO‼️‼️ why does his voice sound slightly sped up is he okay. does he have a new voice actor?? he sounds slightly off not like in a bad way its just strange

THERE WAS A NEW VOICE ACTOR BCUZ BILLY EICHNER WASNT CREDITED maybe bcuz its such a small appearance but thats very weird. i feel like mickey fans in season 12 episode 6 when loren did that horrible mickey impression 😭😭 also whoever did his voice in this episode wasnt credited so it was somebody from the main cast doing an impression of him. will try to figure out who. sorry episode review cancelled i need to figure out who the hell voiced mr ambrose in this episode

based on the fact that u cant obviously tell who it is i dont think its eugene mirman and probably not h jon benjiman?? dan mintz can only do one voice so its not him either. probably either john roberts larry murphy or a random crew member who they didnt bother to credit

(most likely billy eischner just wasn't avaliable to voice mr ambrose due to his movie career etc so i dont blame them but it was noticeable enough to ME that i needed to figure it out. not even a bad impression honestly the average fan wouldnt notice)

"What do you lucid dream about?"

"I do revenge stuff on people who were mean to me in high school, some fantasy and science fiction, some adult stuff I can't tell you about."

this is literally the gayest thing mr ambrose has ever said omg FHFMDDJKSKS i cant believe this drama club ass nerd was bullied in high school who could have guessed. not me thats for sure

(now somebody has to write a fanfic about mr ambrose having Adult Stuff dreams about mr frond. i want this on my desk by 3pm tomorrow)

love mr ambrose and his gay ass curly hair..... mr ambrose my beloved <33 kisses u

i dont have anything to say im just strangely invested in gene's lucid dreaming plot at this point. Love all his silly little dreams and its incredible he never seems to have any nightmares or anything!!

this is reminding me of the movie where gene had a dream and he was scared that he wasn't good at music and that people weren't going to like his performance and the aliens came down to told him to stop 😭😭💔 his insecurity that he might not be that good a musician literally makes me cry. he's so sweet and kindhearted my babyy boy

CAN I SKIP SCHOOL AND GO BACK TO SLEEP LMAO

"Even successful musicians went to sixth grade, Gene."

"That's a MYTH!!"

weirdly mr ambrose started sounding completely normal at some point like did his voice actor come back and just wasn't credited?? or whoever did this impression was REALLY good jfc

mr ambrose HATES these fuckign kids bro

HES SO UNHINGED LMAO 😭😭

NOT THE STARING AGAIN. why are they literally just this image every single time gene plays music in this episode im gonna cry

love this specific frame of gene running his hand through his hair

awww bob is such a good dad

sidenote but this subplot with tina and louise is so stupid it actually made me laugh LMAO the fucking girl cricket. thr female cricket. like what if he's gay huh what then

"or if she's not his type she also makes a great best friend. she's a good listener" THANK YOU louise for acknowledging the cricket might be gay. she's an ally 🙏

AWW GENE WRITING HIS SONG <3 eugene mirman isnt a Good singer (not hating he literally says that all the time. they have to record each line seperately bcuz he cant sing on key) so its hard to tell when they're trying to make gene's songs seem good or not but this is really sweet. u can tell he just loves music so much

why is gene's song kinda making me emotional..... like this show is usually 50/50 on if it actually wants to take gene's songwriting ability seriously but in this episode its so clear how much he LOVES music and songwriting and how talented he is at it. he has trouble with focus and commitment sometimes but thats never an issue when it comes to his music and he'd happily spend an entire afternoon writing a song from start to finish (even skipping out on dinner) because he was so hyperfocused. love how much respect they give gene in this episode tbh

deeply appreciate the "larry murphy as teddy" credit despite teddy not having one single line in this entire episode. Literally just a legacy credit at this point

I LOVED THIS EPISODE 😭😭💕 i dont think it'll be as widely popular as some other episodes this season but as a gene fan and an artist this episode really resonated with me. the ending sequence was actually really beautiful (gives me the same vibes as "your heart's not broken its only growing" tbh) and i loved gene's song and all the different costumes they put him in for his dreams!! tina and louise's subplot was really cute too. very enjoyable episode if you're a gene fan or just a casual viewer who wishes he got more focus. he's SO SWEET and so passionate <3

[sapphoshands]

happy birthday!!! (i know i'm late!!) dvd commentary on Rabbit Heart? i love one (1) possibly not a bunny.

overdue and over-long response to this behind the cut! full commentary on all four chapters of Rabbit Heart. thank you for asking - i had fun poking through the story for bits and pieces.

John doesn’t sleep, exactly, the night after the green clouds clear over Westview. But he lies in bed and does the grounding exercises his last therapist gave him, box breathing until his heart rate slows to something approaching normal, then switching to his trusty standby, the five-things exercise.

this was absolutely me going, look, these poor people of westview, they must need so much therapy, i hope they are getting so much therapy.

Five things he sees: curtains rippling, moonlight reflected on the ceiling, the framed Larry Doby card he saved up for in college, the light on the tv, his nieces’ photo.

i wanted to keep these short but try and build a bit more character by putting in something concrete. larry doby is a famous Black baseball player from new jersey. and the nieces? john/herb doesn’t seem to have kids or a partner but i wanted to give him some family (he needs it, poor guy).

[...] a big messy stack of hay and grass lands smack dab in the middle of John's laundry basket with a soft thud. He about jumps out of his skin when it’s followed by the tinny crash of a cage bouncing off his bed. The rabbit flops onto its side on the quilt [...]

rabbits do that flopping down thing only when they are super comfortable and relaxed. i wanted to imply here that scratchy is, a, incredibly different from a typical rabbit (they are pretty high-strung, to my understanding), and b, so used to agatha’s brand of chaos that loud weird noises are very normal for him :P

Agnes frowns, screwing up her nose in frustration. “You know, that’s a very loaded question for me right now, Herb. Let’s just say I am temporarily unable to take care of Scratchy in the manner to which he has become accustomed, and I’m not quite sure how long this state is gonna last. So I’m doing the responsible thing and making sure he’s got a safe place until I can do something about all this.” She gestures at her grey, flowing, see-through body. “You get me?” John absolutely does not get her. He nods vigorously.

each of these chapters started with a mental image and i’m pretty sure this is the one that gave me the idea for this chapter. full ‘oh heck no’ energy from john.

Agnes—Agatha—reaches out and runs a finger over Scratchy’s head. John can’t tell if the fur moves or not.

poor agatha not being able to pet scratchy was also a significant factor in needing to write this! you’ll notice that by the end she is fully able to pet him again, because i REFUSED to leave her yearning for bunny snuggles.

He sits down on the side of the bed, puts his head between his legs and starts box breathing again. Tomorrow, he tells himself, he’s gonna start looking for real estate agents.

HONESTLY WHY DO ALL THE WESTVIEW RESIDENTS STILL LIVE THERE

*

“I need Scratchy,” Agatha says, turning and drifting back down into the basement. Billy immediately thinks of the cat from that old cartoon his parents like to watch on Sundays. 

okay do Kids Today even still watch the simpsons??

Billy suddenly has a premonition about the next few weeks of his life. He wonders whether there’s a way to speed up a ghost’s ability to interact with the physical realm.

hahahahaaaa poor billy. poor billy! 

Billy looks at her like she’s nuts and she rolls her eyes in annoyance. “The cage, Billiam,” she says, exasperated.

i’m sorry, i’m way too amused at myself for ‘billiam’

She drifts along ahead of him to the car. “You know, I used to own one of these,” she says, hovering behind his back bumper. Off his surprised look, she snorts. “I had an outdoorsy phase, okay. And it was an easy way to meet… people… for a while back in the ‘90s. The 1990s. Obviously.”

i am not immune to a subaru joke! i will eventually write something about agatha and her extremely the craft-influenced 1990s coven and there is a good chance a subaru will show up in it. also, agatha saying ‘the 90s… the 1990s’ was one of those things that happened as i was writing, and i kind of also want to write something with her and rio where they go through decades but keep getting the centuries wrong. (hm, i think i may have stolen this from the old guard, actually. sorry, greg.)

Holding eye contact, Scratchy bares his teeth and hisses. Billy pulls back.

this was the inciting image for this chapter! billy, you don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into.  i like to think billy’s mom is really going to get on with scratchy, though. many bunny snuggles in her future (as billy frantically tries to hide all the weird shit scratchy does).

*

How long will a man lie in the earth ere he rot? Eight or nine years, if he be not rotten before he die—or if Rio can’t stand to look at her slack empty face any longer. Shakespeare didn’t get everything right about death, but he knew a few things.

so i spent a while thinking i was going to title all my rio fic with quotes from poems about death, and then i decided that was too pretentious EVEN for me, but it sparked a couple of conversations with people about whether rio would pay attention to that sort of thing. my opinion is that she treats it like reading her reviews - she pays attention to her press.  in this case it’s obvs a “hamlet” quote and i think it probably came around because i wanted to make an ‘alas, poor yorick’-style joke about rio and agatha’s skull, but decided to go for something slightly more tasteful.

For the second time, Death’s world tilts. The weight of a new reality settles into her bones. She feels… lessened.

the first time, of course, being when nicky died.

To steady herself, she counts the poisonous mushrooms that have popped up out of the grave. They’ll bring her back here once or twice more, she thinks. A last gift from her destroying angel.

a destroying angel (genus amanita, related to the death cap) is one of the deadliest mushrooms known around the world. and it grows in new jersey! yes, of course rio sprouted toxic fungi off agatha’s grave.  yes, this was an excuse to have rio give agatha a disturbing pet name.

The rabbit doesn’t go anywhere. In fact, it hops closer and starts nibbling on one of the violets.

i was going to make an azalea joke here but turns out azaleas are toxic to rabbits! so, violets, very queer, very purple.

“You really are hers, aren’t you?” Rio murmurs. With a little effort, she detaches the bunny’s teeth from her skin and settles back with him in her arms.

agatha bites. that’s it, that’s the joke. that's also the inciting image for this chapter. well, scratchy biting. not agatha. ;)

Shifting the rabbit in her arm, Rio grabs her knife out of its holster and cuts a hole in reality, staring through it into the contents of the grave beneath her feet. With a sharp shock, she realises it’s empty. At some point Agatha’s soul snuck out and ran off without Rio noticing. How in the seven hells had she managed that? Rio looks down at the rabbit. “Were you just here as a furry little distraction?” she demands.

speaking of poetry about death, i was thinking about An Arundel Tomb when i wrote this and i couldn’t quite figure out a way to work in any of it. ‘sharp shock’ is a little nod to ‘sharp tender shock,’ which, again, was a little too pretentious to lift directly. but thinking about rio making agatha some sort of lasting effigy lies underneath some of this story (“What will survive of us is love.”).

also yes, scratchy was totally just being a cute distraction so agatha could go ghosty.

i should also add - i worked it out for 'you open always,' originally, but it took some time to figure out how rio would swear! what would she swear by! not god, for sure, right? i've settled on hells/seven hells/hellfire for the most part because i am guessing she has a healthy respect.

and actually, two larkin poems almost made it into this - i was trying to figure out a way to cite Myxomatosis, but that didn't work out either. but 'you may have thought things would come right again / if you could only keep quite still and wait' is... not not related to how rio feels on realising agatha is actually dead.

To the south, there’s an old, dilapidated cabin. She and Agatha spent some time here, back in the day, and Rio has kept tabs on the place, using it when she needs to be in this realm for a while. It’s… she supposes humans would call it nostalgic.

i wrote this after you open always petal by petal myself but posted it first. anyway, the cabin in both stories is intended to be the same one. good chance it will show up in other fic too.

*

Rio’s wandering through another massacre in another part of the world—they blur into each other, year after year after year—when she gets the uncomfortable prickle down her spine that says there’s a ghost nearby. There’s no reason to think… but she has a really bad feeling.

i just think she has a sixth sense for agatha shenanigans after so long, okay.

“Me?” Agatha flutters her spectral eyelashes. “What are you doing here?” Rio makes a face. She throws up her hands, fingers spread, indicating the streets of rubble surrounding them, bodies buried in all sorts of places. “Yeah, okay. Fair,” Agatha concedes with a tilt of her head.

TROLL 4 TROLL. i love writing them.

She showed up in the aftermath as usual, finding Agatha inside a cottage tearing through a witch’s paltry treasures and Nicky in the farmyard entranced by the small herd of goats. He opened the gate to set them all free—a practised move—and one headbutted him, seeking a crust of bread from his pocket.

two bits of headcanon here - one that rio senses it whenever agatha kills someone, and one that nicky isn’t always a total bleeding heart but has his own jobs in their way of life - letting the goats free so they won’t starve in the pen, for example. 

Agatha bit into the apple, the crisp flesh yielding with a sharp crack. “He often asks if we can keep one,” she said, chewing. “But I see no point, if it is only for a short time.” She pinned Rio with a glare, hostile and hopeful all at once. All Rio could do was meet her gaze evenly. She had no new answers to give.

also something that might show up in more fic: i think rio was actually around nicky and agatha a fair amount, not just observing them from the shadows - because wouldn’t agatha want to try and manipulate rio further and get as much time out of her as possible?

“Traitor,” Agatha coos at him, still waving her fingers coaxingly. “Death rides a pale bunny, is that it? How far you’ve fallen,” she adds, glancing up.

‘death rides a pale bunny’ was the excuse for writing this entire epilogue.

“Baby, I missed you,” she says to the rabbit, and Rio sulks. She shifts her stance, leaning to one side, then the other. She’s not jealous of a rabbit. That would be absurd.

she’s totally jealous of a rabbit and it IS absurd. but understandable.

Agatha glances up, still stroking Scratchy’s head. “I was in the neighbourhood.” She raises a sarcastic eyebrow. “And I had to check in on Señor Scratchy, of course.” Rio huffs, exasperated. “You didn’t even know I had him!” Agatha smiles, irritatingly beatific. “Didn’t I?” Rio’s genuinely not sure if Agatha’s fucking with her.

‘i was in the neighbourhood’ is, of course, twitting rio for showing up when summoned onto the road. and is agatha fucking with rio? i mean… always. probably. right?

Scratchy doesn’t usually tolerate petting for too long, Rio knows, and sure enough, he hops away from Agatha’s gentle touch.

i wanted it to be clear that rio spends time with scratchy. no one can resist the bunny snuggles.

She still doesn’t know how Agatha managed to become a ghost, or why she was here in the first place. But all Rio can think about is Agatha’s expression when she promised to come back. Rio squeezes Señor Scratchy until he lets out a little bunny snort. “I’m counting on it,” she says.

bring! back! agatha! 

*

the epilogue was self-indulgent and an excuse to write more rio, but of all three people i saddled with scratchy, i actually think billy is the most likely option.

[hoovesandfloorpaws]

Hihi! So I’ve been a Dark Larry for over 8 years now. I never dove deep into any other subject because simply they own my heart.

I have tried to post about the topic I want to discuss In subreddits, but they keep denying It because I think they don’t want it to scare Larries off, but that’s not my intention at all. I just simply want it to be debunked because it’s been messing with me. I think you’re the best person to go to, considering you’re a demon larrie.

so, what I want to ask about Is Zarry. Most of their interactions seemed pretty platonic, and the matching tattoos seem pretty mundane considering Larry tattoos are „pair” but I do have a few questions I am hoping you can clear my mind of. Firstly, the exact matching black heart tattoos Harry and Zayn share. (I am aware Louis also has one, but it’s slightly different. Zayn and Harry’s are identical)

so why would Harry constantly kiss on stage (there are times It was literally kissed, not just a sneeze or cough) the tattoo he matches with Zayn. I mean, Larries use this as proof all of the time because Louis drew it or something during xfactor days? but why would Zayn have the exact one?

the biggest one for me is their lyric communication?? What…is…this… it literally has my mind boggled. I don’t want to take up your whole page, but here’s some examples.

Please don’t take this as me trying to mess anything up. But nobody else will answer and clear my mind about these…I really don’t want to stop believing. If you want to Dm me instead, please do… thank you

Hey lovely, thank you for your message and thank you for being kind.

Hmmm, that's a tough cookie, because I never had/have any doubt about how in love Harry was/is with Louis and vice versa to even think about Harry having anything more than platonic feelings for Zayn. And to me it sounds like you don't want to "stop believing" in Harry and Louis' bond, as well, even though things "mess with you".

I want to make it a point that it's ultimately always completely up to you what you believe. It's not my place to tell anyone how to feel.

To me, Harry seems like he makes deep bonds with the people he loves, which with the only exception of Louis, means non-romantic love.

I don't doubt that Harry loved Zayn very much and considered him to be family in a way, which could explain why they might have matching heart tattoos. From personal experience I know tattoos can have more than one meaning and mixed meanings with varying weight. Maybe Harry connects that heart tattoo to not just Louis, but also Zayn? Zayn and Louis also had a deep platonic bond. Maybe the answer is somewhere in between. :) With the lyrics, I personally don't think Harry's and Zayn's lyrics are connected, but everyone is free to disagree with me. :)

I base this simply on the thought that it doesn't make sense to me why Harry would write a line like "I'm forever only yours" with someone other than Louis in mind. If he even was the one to write those lines, because he co-wrote Someday with Meghan Trainor and even though there is an unreleased version of Meghan and him singing that song once, it was her song idea first and then also given to Michael Bublé, who released it in 2016.

With A Little Bit Of Your Heart, Harry "co-wrote the track with Johan Carlsson from Carolina Liar, who he worked on a few songs with throughout his career, including One Direction’s Stockholm Syndrome". (x) They wrote that song in 2014, at the latest, then it was given to Ariana Grande, who released it in August 2014. Zayn only left the band in March 2015. Again, I do not think those lines -if Harry wrote those- are about Zayn.

As with Golden, well, while I 100% think Louis is Harry's "sunshine" and "sunflower" :"> , I haven't caught up enough on Harry's last two solo records to form a specific opinion on the song itself. The lyrics I googled (to me) sound like 'being in a relationship can be scary because what if it ends? But that he's doing it anyway, because "Loving you's the antidote"'. So honestly, the song doesn't speak Zayn to me at all. I also googled to see he wrote it with Mitch, Thomas Edward Percy Hull and Tyler Sam Johnson and from personal experience I can only say that simple themes like "golden/light/bright" are used quite often. Whether Zayn's Golden might be about Harry, I have no idea, I haven't listened to any of Zayn's solo albums, yet. I wish you all the best ✌🏼 x

[fountainpenguin]

Your Beverly post (wow I have not thought on that show for years) suddenly made me try to imagine how she would interact with Chloe Carmichael. Any thoughts? (and prayers, let's be honest)

Yoooo! I wish we'd had a Bunsen Season 2 just so I could find out if they really were setting up a "Beverly backstabs Amanda and now she runs this show" plot. It's right there... C'est la vie!!

I've been sick this week and bingeing T.U.F.F. and Bunsen Is a Beast... Every time I've gone back to those shows after time away, I'm like "Wow, every line of dialogue is SO GOOD... I missed this so much." Insane amount of animatic potential for other fandoms.

I want to do the "Well, look what we have here... SOMEONE TO BLAME!" sequence (T.U.F.F. - "House Broken") with Dev and Peri so badly... It's so "Peri trying to sneak back into the Dimmadome household after the finale" coded...

I actually have a nice-sized liveblog post in my drafts that I was leaning towards not posting, but... Bunsen is so ridiculously close to my sense of humor and T.U.F.F. to the way I like worldbuilding for animal people that it's hard for me not to fawn over them, haha. I am cringe and free. Maybe I'll post that tomorrow.

I've always wanted to write a nice 'fic for each of my fandoms. I have a whole Keswick backstory I outlined years ago (centered around the canons of Keswick fighting his clone to the death, destroying his home dimension, striking a deal with The Chief for three-hearted bloodsucking rights, stuff like that).

It's one of those "I can't spend time on this without cutting into something more important" situations... C'est la vie! Life's too short, but Keswick cracks me up. What do you mean he killed everyone on his home planet and now he has a fear of being attacked by orphans? What do you mean he drops lines like "If I didn't work for the good guys, nothing I do would be legal." What do you mean his boss drinks his blood without consent? Hey!!

I have some other T.U.F.F. drafts that mainly revolve around Snaptrap and Larry being brothers-in-law (Canon, but only confirmed outside the show) and what that's done to their family, plus some other fun stuff with Chameleon and Meerkat... I might finish those because they were going to be quick one-shots anyway and they are ITCHING at me... We will see.

I just think Meerkat's sheer desperation to get in the cool kids' club despite it being painfully obvious he doesn't know his rights or why the other villains do what they do is really funny... Snaptrap, Birdbrain, and Chameleon know they're better off calling in to inform T.U.F.F. about their plans - because doing so legalizes breaking out of jail - but Meerkat doesn't know that's allowed... He waited out his whole sentence... I love him. I can't believe Wannabee got left to pull off a crime on his own because all his teammates had jury duty... He's just a little guy...

Also, I still love Mikey Munroe... He's my favorite. He is consistently mean and manipulative... That is a CHOICE for your protag, and it's fascinating. He's the epitome of "Looks like a cinnamon roll, but would kill you." I would've loved to see a Season 2 just for more Mikey. I ADORE him <3

The thing about Bunsen is that it is silly and goofy and it's just really funny to me. What do you mean Bunsen is regularly tempted to eat Mikey and he carries reminders that these urges are natural, but he needs to resist? what. excuse me?

Anyway, I'll have to post that liveblog... I just have feelings... I can't stop thinking about Dimmsdale and Petropolis being very heavily implied to exist in the same location, but in one of these worlds, the magical forest is held at bay and in the other, it's not, so it's grown out of hand and trying to eat people... I'm screaming.

ANYWAY! It's hard to wrap my head around Chloe and Beverly interacting, but I think you're onto something there- It's the "I've been working hard since I was a preschooler" energy.

But Chloe tries to be Lawful Good and Beverly is somewhere between Lawful Evil and Chaotic Evil, so they're gunning for completely different things.

I have a headcanon that at her first Fairy World Games, Chloe tries to play for the Anti-Fairies and Pixies because she feels bad for them. This gives me the same energy... Chloe feels bad for Bev and wants to help her.

I feel like Chloe would be hugely supportive of Beverly's attempts to enroll in middle school despite being a preschooler. She'd want to be her friend. Beverly is just nice enough that it's easy to overlook how unhinged she is. I feel like Chloe could easily be suckered into helping Beverly, and by the time she realizes "I'm the assistant of a child running the park like a dictatorship," she'd be in too deep.

Chloe has such "I try to see everyone in a good light" energy, and we know from canon that this gets her suckered into doing a lot of things she doesn't want to do. Beverly apparently has enough authority to organize a picket line (At least, she was the one who dismissed everyone after the picket was over), so...

I think Bev would run this show and Chloe would have a hard time getting untangled from that. Chloe is the right-hand man who would get excited when she sees the hero showing up.

"You came back!!" [following an argument where Chloe defended Beverly] and then she glances sideways at her boss. "I mean... Oh, no... We're about to be defeated..." (Said in the same monotone as "Oh no, I have tripped on my cape").

Insert joke about Amanda and Chloe having the same VA, so they can perfectly mimic each other's voices to confuse Bev :)

[reservoirreputation]

Idk how long ago you reblogged that fandom ask game thing, but 7, 12, 14, 15, 17, 18, 22, 24, 25 (all character-specific questions are for both Larry and Freddy) (I apologize in advance)

I believe I've found the one!

7. Regarding clothing, I think Freddy loves that leather jacket of his and just *believes* he looks so cool in it (he does). For Larry this is slightly cheating but his signet ring. That thing never leaves his hand throughout the whole movie (perhaps drawing our attention to Freddy's fake-ass ring? 👀).

12. Craziest/funniest AU, Freddy's fake-ass ring as told from the POV of the ring. That one will be crack treated seriously on my part, I'm gonna try and give that one a Bronte-style gothic backstory and everything. Another that would be seen as crazy, depending on your mileage for RPF, would be a ResDogs fic based loosely on the premise of Supernatural's The French Mistake, as in it's the actors of the movie interacting with the characters and vice versa.

14. Didn't even consider Orange/Pink at the start but here we are...

15. I've decided to stick to present tense all the way, now. I have dabbled in it and past tense in previous fics, but prefer present.

I used to think the more detailed a piece of writing is the better, but now my stuff is streamlined, bare bones info; if the setting is one we (or the characters) will be sitting with for an extended period of time, explain it in detail. Otherwise, don't sweat it. Those nitty gritty details will just bog you down, and unless it is plot. Relevant. I don't bother with it.

Style change in how I prepare to write/post a fic; I hold myself to the promise that I won't start posting a multichapter fic until it is 95% done. This is a lifesaver. I cannot stress enough how well this has worked out for me, especially in contrast to how badly I've been burned by being impatient in the past. It is a recent change for me, compared to how long I've been writing for, but it is also one of the biggest contributing factors to me getting so many fanfictions completed.

17. Freddy would be living for all of the comic book movies. He's got a clear preference for Marvel, but loves them all, especially compared to how little content there was when he was a kid. He's got a soft spot for the early 2000s movies (like a lot of us do) but also loves how far the genre has come.

I see Larry not being able to stand gangster movies, because they never get shit right. And when they do, it's because someone was a damn dirty snitch, and it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. I can see him liking old Hollywood romantic comedies, some real escapism stuff. I think he's willing to dabble in a little bit of everything, and will humor Freddy when it comes to his picks for movie night.

18. I'm doing this on PC : D

Hang on

Tried it on discord mobile for more *spicy* results and just got stuff like 'is' and 'and' 😩

22. Headcanon for Freddy; only child, always wanted to be a cop, parents disapproved. He's either agreed to undercover work because his parents are dead, or he's not on good terms with them. Seeing how his parents dislike his career choices makes him wonder if they'll disagree with his 'life choices' and makes him close himself off almost entirely. He otherwise had a good childhood, and has hung onto many of those childhood interests, like his comic books and posters and figurines and his awful diet. There's a sense of freedom likely, in being able to be true to himself now more than ever but not throwing away what made him happy before.

Larry; I think he really wanted to embrace the greaser look of the 50s, but couldn't afford many of the clothes/products. As a grown adult, he gets to do what he wants, when he wants, including emulating the trends he was so fond of as a teen. It really represents the height of cool/generational discontent that many people his age experienced, but especially for Larry with his home life. I think a young Larry Dimmick made his California Dreamin' play and met up with the first guy that would give him a job, that being Joe Cabot, and has been loyal to the guy since. After all, only father figure is best father figure.

24. Favorite thing about Freddy: we both have similar lifestyles and want to fuck that old man.

Favorite thing about Larry: Look at him. Need I say more? Oh, and we both want to fuck that young man.

25. Least favorite thing? Your honor, my men did nothing wrong. Yes they did all that, but I don't care. Yes they contradict each other, like I said I don't care. They match each others freak and look beautiful together. I accept Freddy's 'on my dick' so I can have him at his 'I'M DYIN' HERE'. I accept Larry casually discussing chopping digits so I can have him at his 'who's a tough guy?' I like my fictional men well-rounded and a little toxic.

Least favorite thing they did; die.

[fadeintolight]

Here’s the hard cold truth for some anons. I find it disingenuous how ppl pretend constantly aligning urself with the community without being out would be a good or most importantly smart move. In reality if he did that but wasn’t out as queer it would look like queer-baiting to most. As a Gen z lesbian who just minds her own and is private about her sexuality, I can see why it would come off that way, bc western media gives a lot of attention to the marketing of LGBT… but they only do it to profit from it. So that’s the reason why ppl who don’t think Harry’s queer call him a queerbaiter and why they do it with Taylor too (bc she used it as an album aesthetic but then publicly identifies as straight). Like do u get what I’m trying to say? Louis isn’t gonna do any of what Harry does bc for him it would be career suicide, he doesn’t have the fandom to defend him from the type of allegations Harry has. If he truly is queer (i still don’t get y we care about wether he is or isn’t) and he is ever out(or god forbid outed), then I still think if anything changes it would be his talking points. Like being open with certain things he’s clearly not comfortable being open about since he’s private. I could never see Louis dancing around with pride flags or writing graphic songs about g@y sex bc like I’ve said that’s just not him. It never has been. He was just flamboyant when he was 18-20 when he barely understood the fame and now he’s not at all that publicly. And if he is the straightest man in the planet like harries and in the last two days lots of the larries have claimed, that doesn’t make him homophobic, Sharon. Using a very serious allegation bc he didn’t confirm a theory is peak immaturity bc ppls lives end from homophobia, so let’s think about our words for a second.

Sorry this is so long lol

^ nothing to add - partially bc im tired of this conversation and because i agree yes

[sdwolfpup]

I've been thinking a lot lately about why 'Larry Lannister' bothers me so much, and it finally hit me the other day that it's because I genuinely love show Jaime as much as I love book Jaime, and to see an enormous chunk of the JB fandom hating a character I love -- one who is theoretically part of our shared OTP -- is demoralizing.

People in this fandom hate lots of characters I love (Ned Stark, step right up!), and it doesn't bother me, but this one hurts because... listen, I know as well as anyone that the show ending for Jaime was disappointing and upsetting and felt wrong. And it makes me furious! But it doesn't make me furious at Jaime. I'm mad at D&D; I'm upset for Jaime. But I feel like calling him Larry Lannister and writing him off entirely is abandoning him to his canon fate, which is exactly the opposite of what fandom does. I think people are quick to do it because there is also book Jaime, but book Jaime isn't exactly the same as show Jaime, and there are things I like better about show Jaime than book Jaime (and vice versa, since people get touchy about this; I was a book fan long before the show came out).

Of course fans are all going to respond differently to source material; there are book fans who've hated the show and everything it stands for for a while, and show fans who never got into the books and never will, and fans like me who loved the books and the show and hold the two canons in our heads in a sort of amorphous, two-headed blob of a source.

I think having the two canons that are so close to each other but different in some critical ways has been a blessing and a curse for this fandom. The blessing is that it's made the characters more identifiable as concrete archetypes; IMO there are fundamental things about Jaime and Brienne (and Ned and Arya and Tyrion etc.) that carry across both canons that have become my defining characteristics of these characters. And that makes it much easier to write them in all of these many wonderful AUs we get, both canon-based and beyond. But the curse is that there's so much more internal disagreement, and with one canon being closed so disappointingly and the other being open with no idea (or chance of knowing, IMO) of how it's ending, I completely understand people embracing the canon that hasn't actively hurt them.

But I also hate leaving behind characters I love, even if it's for similar characters i also love.

So that's why it bugs me. I don't want to leave show Jaime behind, spitting on his metaphorical grave as I go. I'm not interested in punishing him for choices that were made by writers and showrunners. I want to bring him with us and take care of him and tell him not to worry because he belongs to the fandom now and we're going to give him the story he deserved. He and Brienne earned that.

Idk, I'm not trying to change anyone's mind on the ending of the show, it is what it is and what it was hurt, I don't disagree. And I'm genuinely glad people have book JB to be their happy place! I'm just expressing my feelings on the show characters, in case there are any other show JB fans still hanging on in the fandom, heh. You're not alone! We can wrap show JB in blankets and feed them soup in our little cottage in the woods.

[your-divine-ribs]

I’m With the Band Part 1

Words: 1.1k (my chapters used to be so short wtf)

Hope you enjoy this one as it’s so much fun to write! I started this story ages ago and the writing does get better I promise ha ha 💖

I’m With the Band Masterlist Main Masterlist

"I just don't see why I have to go and stay with my cousin," I grumble forlornly, flopping down on the sofa dramatically for effect. "Why can't I just stay here at home? I'll be fine."

My mum and dad look at each other, exchanging looks that speak a thousand words. I know damn well they don't trust me. Last month they were away in Paris for a romantic weekend break and I had a small party. Well... it was supposed to be a small party. I only invited a handful of friends. I wasn't to know that they were going to invite their friends. And those friends would also invite their friends too. All in all it could have been worse. Replacing the whole of the downstairs carpets, having the plumbing system flushed out for the whole house (what the hell were people putting down the toilets anyway?) and having new windows fitted in one of the upstairs bathrooms wasn't too bad I didn't think. The party had been amazing and my friends were all talking about it for weeks. AND I'd shagged that gorgeous guy I'd had my eyes on for months so in my head it was all totally worth it.

It wasn't that I was a bad person, it's just that I found it hard to take responsibility for things. Why worry about the serious crap when there's fun to be had, right?

And right now, the thought of being sent to stay with my cousin Larry in a shitty seaside town in North Wales for the whole summer didn't sound much like fun.

"Arabella, we've spoken about this. This business trip is very important to me and your mum whilst we're setting up the New York office." My dad's speaking in his stern, authoritarian voice that makes me roll your eyes. "We just can't trust you here in the house on your own."

"I could come to New York?" I suggest, jumping off the sofa, looking pleadingly between my mum and dad. Thoughts of a summer in New York, shopping and partying fill my head.

"No way," my mum says like she's already given it thought and she's not budging. "We need to concentrate on the business, not be worrying about what you're getting up to. Your aunt and uncle will keep an eye on you... Besides, you'll have a great time with Larry. You two used to have so much fun when we used to stay with them in Llandudno on holiday."

I pull a face, my memories going to trailing around after Larry and his friends on my childhood summer holidays and all the horrid pranks they used to play on me.

"Larry was the most annoying kid on the planet. And as for his friends... there was this one lad... I don't remember his name but he was his best mate... he was a fucking nightmare..."

"Don't swear in front of your mother!" My dad warns me, but just I shrug. "Now, you've not seen Larry for years. He's not some little kid anymore. Sure you'll have more in common nowadays."

My mum cuts in. "Well actually he's working with some band at the moment, they're getting pretty popular so I hear. That should suit you. I know you like those band types..."

She trails off, a look of distaste on her face. This makes me smirk. Hmm... well I do have a type...

"Okay... I don't suppose I have any choice in the matter do I? He'd just better have some fit mates..."

"Is that all you think of Bella?" My mum says with a sigh.

What sort of question is that? Of course it is.

A week later I'm standing on Larry's family's doorstep with two bulging suitcases, willing there to have been some sort of mix up and I'll be sent home, but no. My aunt and uncle greet me warmly with hugs and kisses, exclaiming how much I've grown.

Well yeah... of course I have... I'm 19 now, not 9!

"It's so good to see you Arabella!" My aunt says. "It's such a shame you stopped coming to stay with us for the holidays!"

"Yeah a real shame!" I reply, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. When my parents' business finally took off holidays in Wales were replaced with vacations in the South of France and the Italian Riviera. "I really miss... errr the beach and the... errr..."

What am I talking about? I don't miss any of it! Thankfully at that moment, Larry appears, distracting everyone from my awkwardness.

"Bloody hell Bells! Look at you!" He exclaims, doing a double-take.

Everyone's so surprised that the girl they see before them is the same skinny, pasty-faced little girl of my past. It's true the years have been kind. My shapeless body grew curves in all the right places, my unruly hair that I used to scrape into pigtails now cascades down my back in soft waves and all in all I'm pretty confident in how I look.

Well, the boys certainly don't seem to have any complaints.

Larry's just as I remember him but a bigger version... not much though... we're practically the same height.

"Come on, I'll show you your room," he says and I'm glad to get away from my aunt and uncle fussing over me.

"So... what passes for fun in this shithole?" I say as soon as we're out of ear-shot.

"Hmm your attitude's not changed much then!" Larry quips as he opens the door to a spacious room with a door that opens out on to a small balcony.

"Come on Larry," I say, sitting down on the bed and bouncing on it lightly to test the firmness. "I'm sure your idea of a fun summer isn't hanging around with your little cousin. I'm sure there's other stuff we'd both much rather be doing."

"Oh I don't know. Was actually quite looking forward to seeing you."

"Really?"

Is he taking the piss? He looks sincere.

"Yeah, reminiscing about all the stuff we used to get up to. Remember when I put that frog in your bed?"

He immediately cracks up laughing and I shudder at the memory. For fucks sake he's not grown up then. And he's on a roll.

"What about the slime in the shampoo?" He's got tears rolling down his cheeks now whilst I look at him, unimpressed.

"And what about the spiders? You used to hate those big fat ones. Remember when Van put one in your..."

"VAN! That was his name!" It's all coming back to me now. I screw my face up. "That little shit! You two used to be inseparable."

It takes Larry a while to compose himself after his laughing fit. "Still are!"

I've started to open up my suitcase. "Still are what?" I say distractedly.

"He's still me best mate! He's in a band now and I look after his guitars. You'll see him tonight. I'm taking you down the pub to meet all the guys."