#and anyway even if the ship was fine now he's just a twink!!

[itsjustlikefallingsnow]

nothing worse than a character you liked being really popular in the fandom but in the wrong way . if no one liked them then to see good posts all you'd have to do is go into a tag or something but if there is a thriving community of people who ship him with a guy you hate it gets several times harder to find posts you agree with

[that-one-enby-ranger]

Hi, you reblogged a thing asking to ramble about the outsiders, and I remember reading that book like 2 years ago and loving it. I and my best friend would absolutely adore hearing you ramble about the outsiders, so, please dooo

Oh I will gladly ramble on about The Outsiders.

Firstly I'm just gonna start off with my order of favourites from the main seven.

Darry. He is my absolute love. I made a list of my top ten favourite fictional characters over all and he was number four. I would gladly marry him. I want to hug him. I will defend him until the day I die. Patrick Swayze is amazing too.

Sodapop. He used to be my favourite when I first read it, but then Darry went straight up to my favourite and now he is my number 2 and will probably be for the rest of time. I love him though, he's so sweet and amazing and handsome. I think when I first read it I felt I related to him because I'm the middle child as well and even though my sisters don't fight like Ponyboy and Darry do, I sometimes get left out of things like when they play Bendy or Little Nightmares.

Two-Bit. He's my little goofball. And I love thats there more to his character as well than just being a little goofball. Like how his father left, and he really cares about the rest of the gang like Pony and Johnny because he wants to look after them and was going to go to texas to find them. When writing The Outsiders fanfics he's fun to write for because he's a just a funny little guy. I love him. I want him as a friend. Or a husband. Either is fine.

Dally. I love him. I love characters who are fucked up with very high emotional walls who secrelty loves someone a lot and has a lot of trauma. The only thing I don't like about him, as that he kind of reminds me of my dickhead stoner cousin.

Johnny. I know he's low down, but I still love him a lot, and I want to look after him, and adopt him, and make him feel better, and kick his parents arses because they're little pieces of shit that deserve to go to hell. My sweet little lost puppy.

Steve. A lot of people don't like him, and I used to not really care about him, but I do now, because even though he's just a side character whose not in it much, he's still complex and got trauma, mainly from his dad. And he's Sodapop's best friend and I ship Stevepop. Plus he's played by Tom Cruise in the movie.

Ponyboy. I honestly don't really care about Ponyboy. He's just kind of there for me. Being realistic out of the entire gang he's probably the one I could relate to the most, and that I'm probably the most like especially since he likes to read and watch movies, but he's still kind of boring to me. I normally find the main characters boring. Sometimes.

Anyways now that the done. Darry. I love me Darry. A lot of this will probably be about Darrel Shayne Curtis Jr. because I love him so goddamn much. Words can't even describe how much I love him. He's just another complicated character. I don't care if he hit Ponyboy. I shall defened him. He loves his brothers he's just trying to look out for them. He probably shows more affection for his brothers than me and my sisters do. He literally calls them bub. I only do that with my best friend and it's because of him. She doesn't even realise it, she just thinks I randomly started calling her bub. I don't usually like guys with big muscles that you can see, but Darry is the biggest exception ever. I usally like twinks or people that are strong and have muscles but it doesn't really show that much until they do something, or have not as visible muscles but they are still visible, and still have really strong arms, like how I imagine Halt. And Patrick Swayze is gorrrrrrrrgeousssssssss. I love him so much.

JUST LOOK AT THIS MAN. HOW COULD YOU NOT FALL IN LOVE WITH HIM. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. WHEN MY FRIEND ASKS WHAT POLAROID PHOTO I WANT PRINTED FOR MY BIRTHDAY IM CHOOSING HIM. I WOULD CHOOSE BRIAN OR FREDDIE OR JOHN OR ROGER BUT I ALREADY HAVE MY ENTIRE ROOM DEDICATED TO HIM AND I HAVE NOTHING ON HIM EXCEPT FOR THE BOOK.

I swear to fuck when I read the book for the first time it changed my life and I instantly fell in love with it. My sister read it first for a novel study and she liked it, and then for my year 9 English class we had to read some books from a list that was given to us and the Outsiders was on it so I read it, and loved it very very much. I finished it before I had to return it so I just read it again immediately after finishing it. And then I watched the movie, then watched it again, then read the book again and again, and watched the movie, and bought the book and read it, and now I have lost track of how many times I have read and watched it. I read the book and watch the movie multiple times a year. When I first read it, I was reading in the car on the way to school and that was when I read the very sad death scenes. Did not expect to read a very serious plot point on a fifteen minute car ride to school. I remember thinking there's no way this ones gonna die, and then he did. I THOUGHT HE SURVIVED THE FUCKING FIRE. I had watched the movie with my sister before reading it but I wasn't really paying attention, the only thing I remember was the scene where Pony and Soda were hugging in bed, BUT I DIDN'T REMEMBER ANYONE DYING SO I THOUGHT WHEN I READ IT THAT EVERYTHING WAS GONNA BE OKAY. THEN I DEFINETELY DIDN'T EXPECT HIM TO DIE LITERALLY TWO FUCKING PAGES LATE. I am ashamed of my self that I have never cried over this. I'm surprised I have never cried while reading or watching. I may have cried over it once or twice, but it wasn't because of the deaths or how tragic it was, it was because I wanted to hug Darry and I couldn't.

The entire fucking cast is amazing. You've got Patrick Swayze, you've got Tom Cruise, you've got Rob Lowe, you've got Matt Dillon, you've got Ralph Macchio, you've got Emelio Estevez and you've got C. Thomas Howell who I don't really care about if I'm being honest. I also find it funny that pretty much the entire cast became famous apart from C. Thomas Howell, and he played Ponyboy who is literally the main character. But all the other cast became famous from different movies. Patrick from Dirty Dancing, Rob from probably St. Elmo's Fire or something, and the Outsiders too though, Matt from something else I don't know, Tom from like everything, Emelio from the Breakfast Club and Ralph from Karate Kid.

There's the Outsiders musicle now that I haven't watched yet and I don't know if I want to. I've heard its good, and people like the cast, but I'm too attached to the original movie cast, and I honestly don't know if I like it or not. I keep switching between being okay with watching and just refusing to watch it. And it's funny because when I heard there was going to be a musicle I was really excited but not I'm just meh. If it came to New Zealand to Wellington where I saw the Shrek musicle then I would probably see it if I had money. But at the moment I probably won't watch it. It's like the outsiders tv show they have, I probably won't watch that either. Also sidenote, I watched Shrek the Musicle in a haunted theatre called St. James Theatre. Why do I feel like i'm spelling musicle wrong.

I have another sideblog dedicated to The Outsiders as well called @ponyhasapepsiaddiction. I should make another sideblog entirely dedicated to loving Darry.

I feel like I definetely have more to say on them. But I've been writing for ages and it's 1:00pm for me now, and I'm hungry and want lunch. I know people may not be interested, but I do have some Outsiders fics, most of them have been recommened by other people.

Here's some random photos I also have saved to my computer:

That's not alll of them. There's defintely more.

Thanks for letting me ramble on about my babies. Out of all my favourite books this ones my second fav after Rangers, and out of all my favourie movies this ones my second fav after Bohemian Rhapsody so I kind of like it. Also thanks to anyone who actually read to the very end and put up with my bullshit.

Just putting it out there, if anyone would like to hear me yap about and ramble on about other things I like I will also gladly do Queen (that one will be the longest trust me), Rangers Apprentice obviously, Good Omen, Our Flag Means Death, ducks, Marvel, different fictional characters I like, different celebrities I like, or just OCs and Wips, like my novel.

[redlegumes]

I Feel the Rush

Written for @eddiemunsonbingo

Square: Square C3 Cheap Motel

Title: I Feel the Rush

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3,686

Ship(s): Eddie Munson/Steve Harrington, Steddie

Major Tags: Smut, Idiots in Love

Summary: Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson have been hooking up in secret. They've been going at it anywhere that was convenient. But after a tryst when their only option was a cheap motel, Steve feels he has to reveal his true feelings about their relationship.

"Steve's stupid heart thudded faster in his chest. Thinking about me all day? No. No, he was thinking about my cock. Though I'd take that little admission anyway. Steve was not immune to flattery, but he was wary of it. Eddie's flattery at first had confused him, bold and silly. Nowadays it just made him melt into a puddle. By the time Eddie crawled over Steve, lube in hand, he felt it in his core. More than desperation.

'Eddie, I need you.'

'Course you do handsome. That's why we're at the cheapest motel in twenty miles.'"

Link: AO3

EXPLICIT SMUT AFTER THE CUT

I feel the rush

Addicted to your touch

Oh, I feel the rush

It's so good, it's so good

...

Pass your boy the heatwave, recreate the sun

Take me to the feeling, boy, you know the one

Kiss it when you're done, man, this shit is so much fun

"So you’re into little singing twinks now?"

Steve turned and angled his head away from his phone speaker. He had just finished pressing play, setting it on the nightstand. "What?"

"Troye Sivan?" Eddie crinkled his nose in what Steve recognized was the same expression he wore when he saw a jar of mayo: utter disgust.

Steve didn't question how, despite his disapproval, Eddie still knew who the artist was. Troye was a gay musician with a mainstream audience. Eddie kept an eye on that sort of thing. 'Keeping up with the culture,' he would offhandedly say as an excuse if questioned as to why he knew Kim Petras was from Germany or ABBA's top five hits.

"Dude, just-"

"You know the rules," Eddie interrupted, looking even crosser. "No ‘dude’ when I’m touching you."

"You aren't touching me yet. You're just being an ass, bro-" Steve barely got the word out before Eddie launched himself over the bed, pinning him to the wall.

It knocked the breath out of Steve; Eddie's tongue quickly filled his mouth in a hot kiss that left him no chance to regain it. Steve's senses reacted the way they always did when Eddie manhandled him. His body prickled with heat. The longer Eddie plunged his tongue into Steve's mouth the more he salivated. Their jaws loosened steadily, adding a desperate, sloppy edge to each kiss. Eddie's hand worked up under Steve's shirt over his scars. The skin there had taken so long to heal, and Eddie loved exploring the sections on Steve that were now deadened to any sensation versus the patches that had become hypersensitive to touch.

Steve liked the beat of the song in the background even if he couldn't make out the lyrics any longer. Even as the playlist shifted to the next track, he felt it'd been the right choice. It fit the mood that night. Eddie was a rush. Wild and good and sweet. Steve tried to move from Eddie’s lips to other areas that had been growing into more tantalizing prospects, but in doing so he hit his head hard against the wall behind him.

All of Eddie's ferocity vanished, leaving a doe-eyed, attentive man Steve longed to call ‘darling.’

"Steve! Shit, are you okay?" His hand went to the back of Steve's head, cradling it.

God. He's so perfect. Steve felt his knees go weak. Eddie knew Steve had a history of head injuries, and even when they got rough he was always mindful of Steve's head. Steve had hardly noticed, but he remembered now, that when Eddie pinned him to the wall, he'd thrown his hand behind Steve's skull as a quick cushion before moving it under his clothes.

"No, I'm fine," Steve panted lightly. He reached up to drag his thumb over Eddie's wet, reddened bottom lip. "Hungry though."

Eddie looked puzzled for a second, and Steve used the opportunity to sink down in front of him onto his knees. He loved the wicked energy that reentered Eddie's eyes. His hand stayed, softly resting on Steve's head as Steve fumbled with his belt buckle and jeans. Eddie's cock waited for him under a pair of plain white boxers. Steve wrapped his mouth over Eddie's hidden head, letting the cotton soak up his saliva but keeping that barrier between Eddie's hot cock and the entrance to Steve's throat. Eddie always liked it more when there was teasing, a bit of a challenge or game.

He whined above Steve who was deeply proud. That noise normally didn't come till later. He continued to warm and wet Eddie's cock through the boxers until Eddie moaned. "Come stand back up. Christ."

Steve looked up at Eddie from his knees and licked his lips, knowing the position had to look good. He'd seen Eddie in it often enough. He adopted a tone of fake innocence. "Is that what I should be doing?" He ran his lips over the now translucent fabric of Eddie's underwear. "You don't want me to stay down here?”

"Steve. You trying to get me to cream my pants?" Eddie began mumbling just a little. "…because it might be working. You know I can't last when you play slutty like that." Steve smirked and blew his hot breath over his work. Eddie groaned, and his free hand gently ran along the underside of Steve's jaw until he guided Steve to look up at him by his chin. "Do I have to ask again?"

"No. I'll stand back up." Steve waited till he rose, eye level with Eddie once again before punctuating his sentence. "Dude."

Eddie practically tackled him onto the bed. His hands were now intentionally working at Steve's shirt, and he wanted so badly to be wearing less but there were rules to hooking up in motels.

Steve protested against Eddie's exuberant kisses. He pulled back, giggly and bright. "What were you saying, bro?"

Steve rolled his eyes. Okay, so maybe it is the worst. "The coverlet," Steve grumbled, barely getting the complaint out.

Eddie paused, bouncing his eyebrows rapidly up and down. “Eager to get to the main event?”

Steve huffed. “Oh fuck you.”

“Manners Harrington. Say please?” Eddie ground down onto Steve’s lap sharply.

Steve tried to stifle a moan, but his time on his knees had got him just as hard. His hips jerked up in response to Eddie's press. Eddie stretched over top of him, gathering his hair into a high bun, securing it with an elastic as Steve watched him. The motions were fluid, practiced, simple but Steve adored it. He could watch that movement on a loop all day long. Eddie's messy tresses tucked up out of reach, his long limbs stretching. Steve caught the way his lithe muscles flexed under his shirt as he tied the hair above his head. Eddie's face flushed, and his eyes narrowed as he observed Steve’s study of him.

“What were you thinking for this rondevu?”

“I think you know exactly what you want to do,” Steve said, letting his hands run along the bottom edge of Eddie’s shirt. “And I am perfectly happy with that.”

“Yeah?” Eddie cocked his head, trying to remain aloof while failing to suppress a shit eating grin. He loved to be given control. No matter how they switched it up, no matter the positions or roles, Steve had yet to be disappointed when he let Eddie take the lead. Steve loved the impression he got of a mastermind tinkering away in Eddie's head as soon as he did get that control. The ‘dungeon master’ at work.

"Yes. You devil."

Eddie laughed at that. He wriggled up and off of Steve. “Okay. Alright do your little bedbug check.” Eddie grabbed his backpack, no doubt pulling out the lube while Steve stripped the covers and checked for anything unspeakable.

The most worrisome part of the bedding had been the coverlet, which Steve stripped completely off and then began to strip down himself. It was visually apparent that the brief break from hot and heavy foreplay didn't diminish either of their appetites. Steve reclined nude back onto the sheets. Eddie made a little show of taking off his shirt and then fully getting out of his pants. He winked and bent down, turning away from Steve.

“Eds. Oh my God.” Steve felt his entire face heat up. Eddie had a black butt plug inserted and was displaying it for him. He had it this whole time?

Steve remembered the call he'd received earlier that day. Eddie had been insistent on seeing him.

Steve's folks were in town, and it was Wayne's night off. Eddie wanted a bed so that nixed the car, and now Steve knew why. He prepped himself so nicely. It would’ve been an awful waste if we hadn’t worked something out. Their hook up plans were nearly dashed till Eddie mentioned the Days Inn the town over from Hawkins. It was used by travelers only as a last resort and it was their last resort too that night.

Though it wasn't the first time.

There'd been a few nights where Steve needed to be out of his house, away from them when they were home. He knew he needed to move out, but it was so easy to be lulled back into the ease of living in his house by himself when they left. It was only when his parents were around that he remembered how acute his need to sever ties with them was. And there were the odd days when Eddie was unable to host. Having Wayne discover them was something Eddie seemed desperate to avoid. Most of the time, Steve liked it best when Eddie was home with him. Often enough they'd hang out and cook or watch TV after or in between ‘antics.’ The house would actually feel like a home, and Steve could pretend for a little while that they were actually a couple.

Steve sat up and brushed his fingers lightly over Eddie's ass cheeks, pausing to tap the base of the plug. "You gorgeous freak," he murmured. He could feel his cock dripping onto his thigh just at the sight.

"You love it," Eddie said, sticking his tongue out.

"I do."

Steve had replied in an instant, quickly regretting it. He was sure his face was painted with the amorous truth. Luckily, Eddie was headed to the bathroom to finish his preparations.

Steve lazily tugged on his cock, trying to keep his anxieties at bay. I'm about to have amazing sex because he's amazing. I'm still good with this. Just because he's into casual friends-plus-certain-benefits… it doesn't mean he wants more. And that’s okay. I’m okay. He's never talked about past relationships… only encounters and fleeting partners. That's his style. This has been working. Right?

Eddie reentered, looking sort of triumphant. As his eyes wandered to Steve's cock, the gaze turned ravenous. "Ooo I am going to ride that big boy. You've no idea. I've been thinking about it all day."

Steve's stupid heart thudded faster in his chest. Thinking about me all day? No. No, he was thinking about my cock. Though I'd take that little admission anyway. Steve was not immune to flattery, but he was wary of it. Eddie's flattery at first had confused him, bold and silly. Nowadays it just made him melt into a puddle. By the time Eddie crawled over Steve, lube in hand, he felt it in his core. More than desperation.

"Eddie, I need you.'

"Course you do handsome. That's why we're at the cheapest motel in twenty miles." Eddie was nearly giddy as he sat atop Steve. His thighs flanking Steve's, their leg hair brushing against each other's skin, as Eddie adjusted in its own delightfully light friction.

Steve was already caught up in a swirl of anticipation as Eddie rose and then gripped his cock. Steve let out a noise that sounded something like a hybrid of a moan and a sigh of relief. Eddie chuckled and dripped a generous amount of lube over the tip of Steve's cock. He wet his lips, watching Steve shudder as the cool liquid dripped down his shaft. Eddie finally angled himself so his entrance ran over Steve's head. He felt how loose his ring was against his cock.

Steve moaned again. “Eddie, fuck. Need you,” he repeated, “need to feel you.”

Eddie shut his eyes and exhaled as he sat slowly down on Steve's cock. “Ah. You've already warmed that lube up. Love how hot your body gets for me.”

Steve's eyes were slitted against the agonizingly slow pressure, fighting the urge to give in and burst. He was so sensitive. Oh. He realized that Eddie hadn't put a condom on him. They were both tested and exclusive. Barebacking had been discussed, but it was still rare for them.

“You only say that…" Steve hissed as Eddie slipped lower. "Because you have poor circulation. You're always cool."

“I don't see anything wrong with my circulation.”

Steve tore his gaze from Eddie's pink cheeks, his contorting lips, to look at his cock hanging hard. As Eddie's body came closer to fully enveloping Steve's cock. Steve’s hands reached out on the bed, his fingers anchoring in the lumpy mattress. He couldn’t trust himself to let his hands wander to Eddie when he was topping from the bottom like that. He wanted Eddie to set the pace. His mind blanked a little when Eddie slid down the remainder of the way. He began to slowly grind, rolling his hips.

“Oh fuck," Steve cried as Eddie started to move up and down. The passes were slick and steady. The plug had done its job well.

Eddie threw back his head as he rode. The tip of his cock brushed against Steve's stomach, creating a wet spot on contact. “It feels so right in me angel, just right. Heavy and good. Want you to fill me up tonight. Can't stop dreaming about it.”

“Eddie, oh.” The words were eroding Steve's ability to hold back. The tension in him built, growing unbearable with each slide of Eddie’s body’s tight grip on his cock. Steve needed release. “Please, please,” he begged. “Can I please?”

“Already? Looks like I got you worked up so good angel,” Eddie panted.

“Please Eds," Steve choked out. Even his brain felt overheated now.

Eddie grunted and sat down hard. “Come on then. Grab me. Fill me big boy.”

Steve's hands flew to Eddie's hips, his thumbs against the scarred skin he adored because it matched his own. He thrust up, bouncing Eddie above him, and then Steve let go. His orgasm drained all the tension, and in its place a rush of good flooded through him. The feeling traveled up his spine as his hips jerked upward once more. Eddie cried out a little with the added movement. He gasped as he lifted off of Steve, sprawling backward on the bed.

Steve raised his head to see his cum drip from Eddie's ass. A bit loopy and almost dizzy from the natural high, Steve readjusted so he could crawl over Eddie's thighs. He zeroed directly in on Eddie’s twitching cock. He began to suck it at a dogged pace. He let it slip further and further into his mouth till he deep throated the pulsing member. Eddie cried again, this time, some sort of warning that did quite reach Steve's lust-addled brain. He felt Eddie’s thighs tense and backed his cock out just enough to easily swallow his climax coating his tongue. He was greedy, still sucking for more even when he could tell Eddie was spent.

They both lay back on the cheap sheets, regaining their breath. Steve felt an unwelcome, post-orgasmic, clarity seep into his mind. He didn't want to be there. It was understood, neither of them wanted to sleep in the motel, but Steve wanted more than just getting out of their current location. He wanted to be in a place where he could wrap his arms around Eddie, sleep and wake in a few hours for another round. Steve's heart panged from his longing to clean up with Eddie and lay back down in soft linens. He knew that what he really wanted was to stop worrying about the time or place he and Eddie could be together.

But we aren’t ‘together.’

Eddie moved off of the bed. He stood up, and Steve visually traced his scars as they stretched with the action. The grafted skin along Eddie’s hips was especially taut and shifted as he reached his arms over each other and twisted his waist. Steve wanted his hands to be there again against his skin. Eddie cracked his neck and turned back toward the bed, shaking his hair down from his bun. He looked gorgeous. Like sin and sex and sweetness. Eddie was everything Steve desired to hold. Hundreds of moments that he wanted to share with Eddie flashed through his mind.

I can’t do this anymore. Steve scooted over to the edge of the bed and sat up."Hey. Look, it's not that I don't… I don’t want this to stop. Okay?"

Eddie looked at him suspiciously. The expression slowly shifted into one of bewilderment before he replied, "okay?"

"I don’t… love the motel, the van, the alleyway that one time." Steve tried not to think too hard about letting the word love slip out. Truthfully, I don't love the secrecy.

"The quarry." Eddie chuckled, his eyes glazing briefly. "That time in your dad's office."

Steve had a viciously visceral flashback to a desktop digging into his thighs. "Fuck. Yeah, um, those times. I want more, but like… Eddie." Steve looked at Eddie through his lashes, trying to get the right words out. "I want… more."

"Babydoll, repeating the word is uh, not really helping me out here." Eddie brought some of his hair up to his lips and his shoulders pulled inward. "’Mm not sure what you’re getting at Steve."

"Can we…" Steve groaned.��Come on. I can be honest with him. He’s one of my closest friends… that I’ve fallen for. I just have to say it. Steve agitatedly ran his hands through his hair and down his face.

Eddie observed Steve’s frustration with one eyebrow cocked, his face was a mix of amusement and confusion.

Steve met Eddie’s eyes, a warm chocolate brown, softening the longer they held each other's gaze. Steve swallowed. Start small. "Can I take you out?"

Eddie shrugged. "Sure?"

Steve stood up off the bed with surprise. That was too easy, right? He pushed down slight embarrassment, remembering they were still both butt ass naked. "Sure?"

"Sure. Definitely, but, uh…” His eyes darted around the dingy room. Eddie was circling his fingers, stretching out his hair tie between both hands. “Do you one better? Steve, do you... Do you like me? Like, for real like me?"

"Yeah." Steve nervously licked his lips, staring at Eddie's while he approached, already in his space. 'Like' isn't the half of it, Steve thought wretchedly. "I really do."

"Fuck. I was hoping so." Eddie beamed back at him. Then he slipped into a slightly cockier smile. "I just needed you to be brave and tell me sweetheart."

Steve's heart leapt in his chest. 'Sweetheart' was reserved for Eddie's guitar. Everytime Eddie called him pet names there was normally a tease involved but now… He swallowed. “Eds. Look, I’ve fucked around. I didn’t know if that’s what you wanted. What you expected… but I can’t pretend like it's what I like anymore.” Eddie’s eyes flashed, a sadness tinged them. “I want to be in a relationship, y’know? Work towards having.'' Steve bit his lip and looked away, speaking so quietly he worried that Eddie might not hear him. He wasn’t ashamed of how he felt, just scared. He was terrified that Eddie wouldn’t want the same thing. “A solid, loving relationship. I want that so…”

"Hey.” Eddie's hands slotted against Steve's face, holding it so he had to face him; Eddie's thumbs were against his jaw. It didn’t feel rough or hasty like their normal touches. It felt steady, safe. “I’ve been in love with you since I saw you pick up the kids the first time. You did this crazy handshake hug thing with Henderson… Took me a while to be honest with myself about it, but I was a goner from that moment on." Eddie sighed heavily. "I also have had my heart broken by guys trying stuff out with me, so I promised myself I wouldn’t confess. Just go with it. Have fun with what I could get."

Steve gasped at the confession, and Eddie laughed at his response, kissing his lips. When he pulled back, Eddie seemed to tremble a little. Steve realized, if what he was saying was true, this was the first time Eddie was lowering that wall with him. Sex had been one thing; this was relationships, romance, love. Steve never wanted to see his wall go up again. He wanted that access, the genuine Eddie, all the time.

“Eddie, I’m sorry. I'm so sorry if I made you feel like I was toying with you.” Steve rested his hands on Eddie’s lower back, comforting himself with the contact. “I honestly… I thought this was all just what you wanted. You’re so flirty, joking all the time. I thought you hooking up with me was just… Hell,” he cursed. “I’m an idiot."

“It’s not a game for me Steve." Eddie's hands dropped down, one against Steve’s neck the other lay on his chest. Steve’s heartbeat quickened. “Not to say I don't like playing with you. But not with feelings. I’m starting to think we were both pretty big idiots here. Though the sex has been phenomenal."

Steve laughed and kissed Eddie’s cheeks and smiling mouth. "No more cheap motels?"

Steve could not think of a more endearing sight then Eddie Munson as he warmly agreed. "No more sneaking around sweetheart."

Steve's mouth went dry, and he managed to swallow before the words came tumbling out. "Move in with me?"

"Woah, what?"

"Let's get our own place.” Eddie looked at him slightly stunned, but Steve knew with absolute certainty. That's what I want. I want to be with him. “No sneaking around? Well, I’ve been in love with you since the boathouse. Eddie, I wanna come home to you."

Eddie's eyes grew a little unfocused, teary before he appeared to jolt back into himself. “Yeah. Yes."

"Yes?"

"Hell yes. But before that.” Eddie’s wicked spark was back. “We gotta sit down and make our own sex playlist. No more shuffle."

"What? You weren’t feeling ‘the rush?”’ Steve grinned back, trying to contain the boundless joy he felt growing in his chest.

He stopped Eddie's protesting groan with a kiss.

[showrunnerihardlyknowher]

You know how we have pet costumes? Give Jacob one, make him a cute space cowboy😈😈😈

WE'RE BACK BABY

Please enjoy this little ficlet (that was actually my 3rd attempt to write a fluffy ficlet for this universe because all the other ones kept becoming future chapters lmao)

--

“This is humiliating. I look like sheriff Woody or something.”

“Aw, I was thinking more like John Wayne Gacy, you know?”

“The...the clown serial killer…?”

Angie pursed her lips. “Wait, who was the cowboy guy in all the old movies? Like, before Clint Eastwood and whatever.”

“That’s John Wayne. Not John Wayne Gacy,” Jacob tugged at the sleeves of his costume and readjusted his cowhide vest. “And I don’t feel anywhere near as cool as him right now.”

She rolled her eyes and crinkled her nose. “That’s because you’re not cool. You’re a grown man playing dress up with a kindergartener.”

“So are you.”

Angie straightened her Native American headpiece and threw one of her braided pigtails behind her. “Yeah, but I know it’s stupid, so therefore I’m doing it ironically which makes me cool.”

Jacob sighed heavily but didn’t argue further, instead tugging his cowboy hat down further to shield his face that burned with embarrassment. Being forced into having playdates with his captor’s coworker was nothing new. He had spent plenty of time being Mibao’s sole playmate aboard the ship, doing the best he could to keep the six year girl entertained and not too psychologically damaged. Being the youngest in a sibling group of only boys, he was a bit rusty when it came to knowing anything about kids. Thankfully, Mibao was more than happy to take him by the hand and show up all the “fun” things she used to either do back home or what she would now do with her “kitty”.

Today’s game of choice was dress up. Every day felt like dress up when it came to the girl’s ever expanding wardrobe; she was always dressed in an obnoxiously puffy and sparkling princess dress fashioned with ribbons and bows galore and always with a matching crown. Fine, no big deal, he could slap a tiara on his head and call it a day, he’d worn worse at the few fraternity parties he attended during college. Nope, not good enough. Mibao had a very specific game she wanted to play which involved him wearing a cowboy costume of all things. A very realistic and detailed cowboy costume, assless chaps and spurs and all. Again, he could...handle it for the most part. The only thing that really bothered him about it was all the coos and giggles he received from both his and Mibao’s captors when he finally came out in his new outfit.

And he knew for a fact they took many, many pictures of him.

It didn’t end there, Mibao still had more requests. Angie needed to join in as well and she was required to be an “indian princess” to partake. Naturally, she was more than happy to agree if it meant getting a break from the absolute nightmare of a captor she had been saddled with. So, now Jacob had to deal with the fact that she would have to watch him play pretend in this ridiculous getup. He could never catch a break with her, it seemed, she always had to catch him when he was in the middle of doing something cringe worthy. She didn’t even look half as uncomfortable as him and she was literally wearing half as much clothing.

Or maybe that was exactly why she was so comfortable as she sauntered up to him, making a finger pistol to tip his hat away from his face. “Cheer up, partner,” she teased. “I think it makes you look cute.”

“I think it makes me look like Owen Wilson from the museum movie,” Jacob replied, hoping the shadow of the brim hid his reddening cheeks.

“Oh my God, you are a tiny little twink cowboy, huh?”

“I’d rather be the gladiator guy.”

“You wish you could pull off being the gladiator guy.”

A rebuttal was on the tip of his tongue when Mibao made her appearance from behind the monitor where she had been changing. This time instead of her usual princess attire, she was dressed...pretty much the same, only this time she had a tiny pair or iridescent fairy wings attached to the back. What a fairy had to do with cowboys and indians, he hadn’t the faintest idea. She stopped when she saw the two of them and stuck out her tongue in childish disgust.

“Eww, stop kissing!” She scolded. “You can kiss the princess later, Jake, it’s time to play!”

Jacob had never been more grateful in his life that the creatures idly watching them couldn’t understand English because he just might have died if they heard. He could feel the heat radiating from his nape to his cheeks, putting his hands up in defense like it could keep Angie away from him.

“Wh-no! We weren’t, we weren’t kissing, Reagan, w-we-!”

Angie only cackled, her amusement stemming more from Jacob’s panicked response than the actual accusation of giving him a kiss. “Yeah, cowboy, you can kiss me later.” She winked and nudged him with her elbow as she walked past to where Mibao was waiting.

He groaned, tugging the hat down as far as it would go even if that meant obscuring his vision somewhat. That was totally fine, he didn’t want to look at anyone right now and he did not want to be perceived either. The child was leading them back over to her designated play area scattered with art supplies and stuffed toys for where they’ll play their game of make believe. Angie was already sitting on her knees by the time he shuffled over and beckoned him with a sly smile to come take a seat on the ground next to her. Jacob obliged, but refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing his beet red face.

As soon as they were settled, Mibao immediately launched into the exposition of the scene they would be putting on, including their roles and superpowers (that only she had because she was a magical fairy queen). Jacob was only half listening; the kid usually forgot half of her own rules in the middle of playing anyways because she wanted to change the story and it wasn’t that hard to follow her game of make believe. Instead, he kept side-eying Angie, who was side-eying him back, and every time they made eye contact she would smile and bump his shoulder with hers.

This was going to be a long playdate.

--

The lab door slid open as Talan walked in, peeling off his bloodied gloves to dispose of them in Ylva’s waste bin. “I need my human back.”

“Aw, why? They’re all having a ball together!” Ylva frowned, gesturing to the miniature trio on her desk. Well, the smallest one and Talan’s pet seemed like they were having a good time, namely at the expense of the other human in a hat. They all seemed to stop at the interruption, his human fixing him with a sneer that he was tempted to match.

“What the fuck is it wearing?” He asked, ignoring all the little protests he got when he grabbed it and plucked the stupid looking feather thing of its head. “I thought you said it’s not nice to torment the humans.”

Edix scoffed at him, though his annoyance was more from Talan being in his general vicinity than anything. “It’s not torment. They were having fun.”

Talan did not look convinced in the slightest, his eyes sweeping over the pup who was pouting at him for taking away its playmate and the other who froze any time he breathed in its direction. Like owner, like pet, he assumed as it seemed to unconsciously inch closer to where Edix’s hand was resting for a better sense of security. Pathetic. At least his pet had a bit more self respect and wasn’t afraid to try and stab him in the hand with his own tools. Of course, it got a sharp flick to the stomach to knock it off, but he could appreciate the gumption.

Talan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, looks like a real party. So sad to have missed it.”

“Like you’ve ever been to a party to know what it looks like.”

“Says the one that only hangs out with plants.”

“Okay,” Ylva interjected, rising from her chair and scooping up her adorable little human. “You’re right, we should probably wrap this up, Mibao’s going to need a nap soon and she likes to fight her naps when she’s excited.”

That was all the excuse Talan needed to dip out without a formal goodbye, though it didn’t escape the corner of his eye how Edix’s human took a half step forward when he left, almost like it wanted to say something. Even if it did, he wouldn’t have cared. As quickly as he had intruded, Talan disappeared back down the main hall of the fauna department to return to his lab.

Edix stood up as well and tucked the data pad he had been keeping busy with under his arm to keep his hands free. He couldn’t help but smile at seeing how much closer his little pet was standing to him, even if it wasn’t by much, even though it was caused by Talan of all bastards. A win was a win in his book. The hand the human had been partly hiding behind curled easily around it to lift it up, immediately cradling it to his chest as usual. It squirmed for a moment but settled quick enough, a clear sign it was also ready to go back to the lab it was accustomed to. For a social species, the little one always seemed so drained after any playdate Ylva arranged for their pets. Fine by him, it usually meant his human was much more quiet and well behaved once it was back in the solitude of Edix’s company, making for an easier work day.

He used his finger to tilt back the wide brimmed hat it had been using to hide its sweet little face a majority of the playdate, earning him a surprised squeak. With the way its baby cheeks were turning an adorable shade of pink, Edix had a fairly good guess as to why it was trying to avoid everyone’s line of sight. Damn, he should have had Ylva take more pictures, this was way too cute for him. It reached up to quickly pull its shield back down and Edix let it with a laugh, cooing as he tugged at its little vest instead which only made it wriggle in distress. Overdramatic little thing.

“Can I keep this costume?” He asked as he followed behind Ylva who was preparing to put her own pup down for a nap. In reality, it meant she was going to have to play with it for at least another half an hour because, much like him, she was a sucker when it came to her human wanting to play. The difference being that Mibao wanted to do anything from coloring to singing to continuing its game of make believe while Edix’s pet always wanted to play chase.

Ylva smiled and shrugged. “Sure, I mean, it’s not like it’s going to fit the baby. It was printed for its measurements specifically, anyways.” Mibao was proving to be difficult in its refusal to relinquish the shiny wings Ylva had designed at its request, something that Ylva quickly made a game out of by setting her pup on the desk and letting it squeal and run while her hands chased after it. That would tire the kid out in no time. She looked back at his human and giggled. “I don’t think it likes it very much, though.”

Oh yeah, that was obvious from the get go, but it didn’t change the fact that it was way too precious for its own good in this type of outfit. Edix actually quite liked the contrast of the dark brown against its pale skin, even more given the fact that it matched the color of its doe eyes perfectly. It was much more appealing than that splotchy green jacket it was inexplicably attached to. He had a feeling it was going to try and strip out of this outfit as soon as it was back in Edix’s lab, provided he gave it its normal suit and jacket to change into. But...maybe he didn’t have to offer it its spare set of clothes right away. Maybe it would just have to hang around in its little boots and hat for a couple hours longer while he finished up his latest report that was just so important to get done. And maybe he would get constantly distracted by how cute it looked while it was definitely pouting at him for not taking off its costume that it took a little longer than usual to finish his work, which meant it spent even longer pouting under its hat.

Decisions, decisions.

Edix waved his hand dismissively. “It’ll learn to love it.”

“Oh, Eddie, don’t be mean to it,” Ylva laughed, not that seemed bothered by the idea of his pet keeping the outfit on for an extended period of time beyond the playdate. “But send pictures if you do.”

[cinnaminsvga]

🤬 | seokjin

the sleep deprived series (n.): drabbles that i write when i’m sad and tired

→ frenemy!seokjin ft. e2l and the magnificent get-along sweater | 2K words → a/n: this is dedicated to my homie @jincherie​ who has been, as they say, wiping her ass everyday only to shit again. i can’t really do much to actually alleviate your circumstances except maybe making you smile, so i hope this can be your tiny ray of sunshine amidst the crap. this fic literally makes no sense because i wrote this within one hour so i’m sorry but pls know that ilysm!!

“Where’d you even fucking get this abomination?” you growl, struggling fruitlessly against the coarse fabric. In your fidgeting, your elbow knocks into Seokjin’s broad chest, causing more damage to your weak joints than anything. Even so, Seokjin grunts overdramatically, stepping on your toes in retaliation.

“Yoongi-chi, you know that I love you very much—” Seokjin seethes, his teeth clenched almost painfully as he fights to restrain himself from ripping the sweater in half, a la Hulk style. “—but I will not hesitate to stab you once I get out of here.”

“Not my fault that you both are acting like a bunch of toddlers,” Yoongi snorts, hip jutted out in contempt like the homosexual that he is. “And to answer your other question, I bought that sweater online after your last fight, when you two were literally wrestling on the kitchen counter. I didn’t know whether I walked into some intense BDSM play or a WWE ring.”

“You bought a fucking get-along sweater for us? What are you, some sort of Christian camp counselor?” you growl, kicking your legs out in an attempt to hit him. The slimy twink bastard jumps away gracefully, landing onto the loveseat opposite the couch that you were sitting on. He crosses his legs, opening his arms wide when your traitorous cat jumps onto his lap, looking to all the world like a terrible Bond villain from the 80s.

“If I was Christian, I would not put the two of you into a sweater together,” Yoongi says. He strokes your cat, who purrs loudly before pointing a contemptuous glare back at you, as if she was enjoying your torture too. Dumb cat. You never liked Miko anyway.

Yoongi continues, “Anyone would two eyes knows that you both are just one brawl away from fucking each other into the next dimension. Lord knows that your sexual tension could power the entire city.”

It’s Seokjin’s turn to snort, who has been relatively quiet in comparison to you. He’s also less fidgety, but that might be because he at least has the advantage and comfort of occupying 90% of the sweater space due to his oceanic shoulders. You once described him as “horizontally imbalanced,” which he did not find slightly amusing.

“I would rather place my balls into a panini press and feed them to Miko than to ever fuck Y/N,” Seokjin fake-gags, squirming uncomfortably in his seat. “It would be less hot for me to actually grill my penis than for me to sink into her hell-ish cunt. I swear, you could bake bread in there with how much yeast has accumulated from—“

You headbutt his chin before he can finish, squawking indignantly. The satisfying sound of his teeth clacking together in pain is momentary but worthwhile. “Excuse you, but it’d be an honor to fuck me! I’ve got that S-tier pussy! If my pussy was in a gacha game, people would spend thousands of dollars just to roll for my mystical coochie!”

Yoongi smirks. “So you admit that you do want Seokjin to fuck you!”

“What the fuck! No! That is—what the—I don’t!” You stammer, face flushing as you struggle to regain your footing in the conversation. Yoongi’s eyebrow raises, intrigued by your slip-up. “That is totally not what I meant, and you know it!”

Yoongi picks at his nails, pointedly avoiding eye contact. “Sorry, I don’t speak hetero. Prithee, explain thy peculiar mating rituals to one who does not walk the straight and narrow path.”

You slump back against the couch, forcing Seokjin to follow and fall backward with you. His shoulder hits you square in the boob, causing you to groan in pain. “Yoongi, just let us out of this thing before I lose a limb to this walking inflatable tubeman,” you plead, ignoring Seokjin’s glare.

“I resent that,” Seokjin inputs, but no one pays him any mind. Your attention is focused solely on the smirking kitty man in front of you, who grows smugger as time ticks on.

Everyone in your friend group is aware of the weird relationship you have with Seokjin. Ever since you met him in your freshman year of university, things were never peaceful between the two of you. It was always constant bickering, squabbling, competing… everything. Even Jungkook, Seokjin’s other sworn enemy, doesn’t argue with the elder as much as you did.

For three years, everyone just assumed it was your weird kindergarten schoolyard way of showing affection for each other, and at the beginning, it might have been. You and Seokjin, both of whom have never dated in their lifetimes despite being moderately popular while growing up, are unsurprisingly emotionally stunted and never learned how to just be nice to people you like. Affection who? Compassion where? To the both of you, physical connection can only be achieved through hair tugging and nipple pinching, and not even in the sexy way.

But at a certain point, things were starting to get tiring. Your arguments only grew larger in scale, to the point where it was getting hard to differentiate whether the bruises on your neck were from pinches or something else.

“I just… Ugh… When are they gonna fuck, hyung? I’m actually getting tired of their constant fighting,” Namjoon had lamented one afternoon, just a day after your last altercation with Seokjin. It had been a big one, where Seokjin nearly lost a tooth when you had landed a neat uppercut squarely on his jaw after he called your toes ‘a foot fetishist’s worst nightmare.’

Yoongi’s boyfriend had been staring listlessly into his bowl of soup for the past hour, and he was honestly starting to get worried when it looked like Namjoon had started muttering to himself in a foreign language. Yoongi almost thought he might have been scrying for a prophecy, begging for an answer to their most pressing question.

“What do you want me to do about it? Lock them in a room and let them out only after they’ve done the deed? Mixed bodily fluids? Performed the monkey dance to its climax?! No thanks, I don’t wanna be near them when that can of worms finally explodes,” Yoongi grimaced, shivering at the thought.

Namjoon shook his head quickly, face paling with him. “Heaven forbid. Maybe you can keep it PG? How about getting one of those get-along sweaters or something. I think they used those in kindergarten.”

Yoongi sighed. “Yeah, but the question would be how I’d get them into it.” He flaps his noodle arms around in demonstration. “I’m not exactly in the running for world’s strongest twink. Plus, years of fighting each other means they’re both stronger than I am.”

Namjoon shrugged. “Easy, just dare them to wear it. Make it into a competition. Nothing gets them more riled up than when they’re trying to outcompete each other.”

And so, that’s how the two of you had gotten stuck in a 3XXL Hello Kitty sweater that Yoongi had bought from Ebay. It has yet to be decided whether spending $40 on expedited shipping was worth it.

“Look, Yoongi-chi. We both promise that we will stop fighting once you let us out of this,” Seokjin says, smiling sweetly at him. Had Yoongi been younger and much more prone to the alluring temptation of the Straight Man™️, he might have caved. But Yoongi is older now, plus he knows when Seokjin is lying better than any polygraph test.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, waving him off. “Fat chance. You’d probably stop fighting for approximately three hours before getting mad about mint chocolate ice cream or something.”

“Hey! Give us some credit. We both agree that flavor is abhorrent, so we would never argue about that,” you retort, with Seokjin nodding furiously in agreement. You glance at him. “And I feel like we’d last at least six hours without fighting. What was our record again?”

“Five hours and twenty-two minutes,” Seokjin says.

You hum thoughtfully. “Okay, I can promise at least five hours and thirty minutes. Maybe.”

Yoongi groans, rubbing his temples in frustration. His souring mood even makes Miko jump away in fright, and the two idiots trapped in a sweater can immediately feel the dip in temperature. Uh oh, here we go!

“I am absolutely sick and tired of the two of you dumbasses fighting all the time! It’s embarrassing as hell trying to bring either of you anywhere in public because everyone mistakes your little catfights for strange foreplay or whatever,” Yoongi glowers. The two of you shrink into your seats, ashamed.

“We’ve only gotten kicked out of one Costco—” Seokjin defends. 

“But we did get fined for public indecency at the beach when I pulled your trunks down, which was totally unfair, by the way,” you mutter. 

“You literally threatened to, and I quote, ‘Suck the soul out of Seokjin’s dick until he dies.’ How the hell is that unfair?!” Yoongi exclaims. 

“It was a death threat! I would’ve accepted a charge for attempted murder, but that was not going to be a sexy blowjob, I assure you—”

Yoongi holds up a hand to silence you. “Face it, you both like each other. Whatever! Sure, you guys are the token straight people in our friend group, but that doesn’t make you bland as hell! Well, actually, it does but…” Yoongi pauses, wondering if it was worth lying. It takes a second for him to refocus. “Where was I? Oh right—“

Yoongi clears his throat, starting again. He heaves a deep breath, shoulders sagging tiredly as he puts on the sincerest face he can muster. “Listen, I just want to say that I care a lot about you, okay? And it sucks seeing the both of you hurting every time the other person says something really mean that neither of you even mean! If anything, will you please stop for me? If you really cared about our friendship, will you do it for me?”

There is a heavy pause as Yoongi strives to get his breathing back in check, his impassioned speech causing his fragile grandpa heart to race. He can feel his cheeks darkening in embarrassment, unused to using his “hyung voice” on Seokjin or you. Separately, the two of you are very reliable, never really needing him to scold either of you. Together, however… that’s a different story, but as the next eldest hyung, it really only fell to Yoongi to fix his friends’ mess of a relationship.

Screw age hierarchy. Yoongi would love to see Jungkook try to get Seokjin and you to fuck. Would absolutely pay to see the twerp squirm as he tries to even say the word “penis.”

After a while, Seokjin and you share a look. Yoongi watches with bated breath as he waits for either of you to speak, but he can sense some unspoken conversation happening between you. Perhaps, after years of exchanging blows, you had somehow knocked brain cells into each other and now share a weird psychic connection. Or, more likely, the two of you actually like each other and understand each other on a deeply personal level, so personal in fact that you could probably finish each other’s sentences, like—!

“We refuse,” you both reply in tandem, your joined voices echoing throughout the apartment. You both had said it so in sync that Yoongi might have imagined the other person speaking, but no—you both really did just say that to his face. In front of Miko. In front of his goddamn imaginary salad.

“Excuse me?” Yoongi squeaks. He cleans his ears with his fingers but finds no cotton there. These bitches! How dare they just throw his speech to the gutter! That shit took brain cells to think of, and he is not in the business of wasting his precious minutes by using them for productivity.

You shrug, leaning against Seokjin’s shoulder. He can see the ghost of a smirk tugging at your lips, thoroughly enjoying Yoongi’s confusion. “You heard us. We’ve made the executive decision to double our efforts, actually.”

Seokjin nods, not even shoving you off his shoulder like he normally would whenever you made contact with him. What? “Exactly. Honestly, we’ve been fighting for so long that we’ve kinda been just doing it for the bit at this point, and the fact that it annoys you so much is just the icing on the cake.”

Yoongi stares at them. His brain doesn’t feel like it’s connecting to his body at all; he feels like he’s floating. “So. What you’re saying is—“

“We know we like each other. Whatever. But we also like fighting, so who gives a shit if we’re having fun at the end of the day?” you shrug, pinching Seokjin’s cheek for good measure. As per usual, the elder retaliates by grabbing your finger with robot-like accuracy, before biting you there like a ravaging beast.

“And before you ask, no, we aren’t really dating. Yet. We kinda just wanted to piss as many people off before actually becoming official. We honestly didn’t think that you’d be the first one to crack.” Seokjin says, your finger falling from his mouth. The imprint of his teeth marks on your skin are plain as day, but you don’t look remotely bothered by it. In fact, you’re practically cooing at his ‘baby teefies’ like a psychopath.

“I—“ Yoongi stutters, at a loss for words for once in his life. He stands from the chair, but his knees give out from under him, causing him to tumble to the carpeted floor. He holds his head in his hands, shell-shocked. “So… That means…”

“Yeah, we’re kinda just freaky, I guess.” You muse before laughing hysterically when Yoongi begins to sob. “Hey, you’re right! We did make Yoongi cry! Do you think we could make Namjoon piss himself in rage when he finally confronts us too?”

Seokjin cackles, shaking your hand underneath the sweater. “If anyone can do it, I know that we can.”

And so, the two of you stand up clumsily to your feet, not bothering to escape the ridiculous sweater as you both waddled out of Yoongi’s apartment. From outside his door, Yoongi hears the sound of a new fight commencing, your shrieks resonating down the hall and for all the world to hear.

[generallynerdy]

Mir’sheb (Han Solo X Mando!Reader)

Summary: “It’s not fine! They just attacked you!” he screeched. Luke went silent when Han and the Mando shared an amused look. Clearly, he was missing something here. “You’ve never met a Mandalorian, have you?” asked the Mando, snorting.

Requested by Anon: Can I get Han Solo x fellow scoundrel reader? Just the two of them getting into trouble and being snarky with each other

Key: (h/c) - hair colour, (Y/N) - your name, Atin’ika - a pet name with the root Atin meaning stubborn and the suffix ‘ika meaning little, Kaysh mirsh solus - he’s an idiot (literally: his brain cell is lonely), Mir’sheb - smartass Warnings: i physically could not resist implying a future han/reader/luke situation sorry not sorry, cursing, mentions of imprisonment Word Count: 1,058

Note: i love love love the original trilogy characters i am BEGGING yall to request more of them when requests are open. I hope you don’t mind that i made the reader a mandalorian-- i’ve become o b s e s s e d with the culture and i thought it would be fun to play with a mando reader.

 "Han Solo, I'm gonna kick your ass--"

The second Luke heard the mutter come from the cell next to the one he and his companion were thrown into, he knew they were in for it. Han had enemies everywhere, he was slowly learning, but prisons happened to be one of the easiest places to find them.

"Kid," Han told him as the person in the other cell started shouting in another language, "it's fine. We're fine. Don't worry about it."

Luke worried about it.

Even when the cell door blew open ten minutes later, he worried about it. He only began to lose his mind when Han let out their cell neighbour, who was dressed head to toe in armour-- Mandalorian armour. Luke was going to kill Han.

Sure, their new friend seemed to be helping them escape, but the fact that they turned and hissed curses at Han that made Luke's falsely innocent ears turn red made him uneasy. Was this a Leia situation? Was the snark hiding the possibility of a decent friendship? Would the Mando turn on them the second they were safe?

Well. That answer came pretty quickly as soon as they ducked into the Falcon, Chewie at the wheel, and the Mando bashed their head against Han’s.

“Woah, woah, woah!” Luke cried breathlessly, rushing between them and tugging them apart.

Han shook off his dizziness and still tried to push Luke away. “Kid, it’s fine--”

“It’s not fine! They just attacked you!” he screeched.

Luke went silent when Han and the Mando shared an amused look. Clearly, he was missing something here.

“You’ve never met a Mandalorian, have you?” asked the Mando, snorting.

He crossed his arms. “I’ve met plenty of Mandalorians!”

“You can’t count Boba Fett, he was trying to kill you,” Han corrected immediately. 

He seemed to abandon the conversation, crossing the room, but it soon became clear he was actually pulling drinks out of his hidden stash. (“Hidden stash.” The only one who didn’t know it was there was R2 and that was because he had a habit of throwing bottles at people’s faces.) Meanwhile, his Mandalorian friend stepped away from Luke to lean against the wall.

“Do you wanna explain to the kid what you just did?” Han asked them, pouring three glasses, which did not go unnoticed by Luke.

The Mando snorted. “He’s your tag-along.”

“Hey now!” he protested almost mockingly before lifting his left wrist and tapping it. The dull thud that echoed from the piece of armor he wore under his sleeve almost abruptly reminded Luke of its existence. “That means he’s our tag-along.”

Luke gawked, realisation painting his features. He’d never understood the vambrace on Han’s left arm, much less why the man kept it covered at all times, but now it made complete sense. The piece was the same colour as the mysterious Mandalorian’s armour, now that he thought about it. The Mando had given it to him.

“I’m no expert in Mando, but--”

“Clearly,” Han snorted mid-sip of his own drink, but Luke ignored him.

“--isn’t that...kind of a big deal?”

The Mando gave a heaving laugh just as Han approached and handed them a full glass. An untouched one was shoved into Luke’s hands, but he barely noticed it.

“We’re married,” the Mando said almost nonchalantly.

Han lifted a protesting finger. “We are not married.”

“We’re not married,” they corrected. A pause. “Yet.”

Luke took a massive gulp of his drink, wincing at the burn and the snickers he got from both of them.

Just then, the Mando slipped their helmet off, revealing a head of mess (h/c) hair and sharp eyes that twinkled with mischief. They immediately moved to kiss Han’s cheek, earning a roll of his eyes and a minute shove.

“Atin’ika,” they muttered. “Who’s your new friend?”

“Luke Skywalker, (Y/N) (L/N),” Han introduced. “Sorry about Luke-- Kay-esh mirsh solus.”

(Y/N) glared at him. “It’s Kaysh.” He waved them off and they looked back at the poor former farmboy, who had the expression of a bantha in headlights. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too, I think,” he said hesitantly. He gestured between the two of them. “So, you two--?”

“Unfortunately,” (Y/N) drawled. Then, they grinned. “But it’s a pretty open thing, if you’re interested.”

Luke choked on his drink.

“Leave him alone, you menace,” Han scoffed, shoving his partner. “Go get that armor off, it’s a pain in the ass.”

(Y/N) rolled their eyes, but started walking off anyway. “I’m going, I’m going-- but don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it!”

Luke was just recovering from his coughing fit when Han sighed. “That’s what I get for bringing a twink on board. Ignore them.”

“How?” The ‘twink’ muttered.

A moment later, watching Han down his entire glass, Luke frowned.

“You knew you said the word wrong earlier, didn’t you?”

His friend grinned devilishly. “It annoys them-- can’t help it. They’re hilarious when they’re mad, you’ll see.”

“So you know Mando’a?” he asked, tilting his head.

“Eh.” He made a so-so motion. “Pick up a word here and there.”

Luke frowned when the Force rang false. “Hang on! You have a Mando’a dictionary in the ship's files-- I’ve seen it! You’re a filthy liar!”

Han hushed him immediately, glancing toward where (Y/N) disappeared. “That doesn’t exist, hear me?”

“Why wouldn’t you--?” he stopped. “Wait, that last page you viewed--”

Luke had seen the records. He went snooping around in Han’s stuff more than he’d like to admit, but he was sure the man knew about it. The last open section in the Mando’a dictionary had been under Resh: Riduurok. It was a love bond, a marriage agreement.

“Shhhhhhhhh,” Han hissed pointedly. “I’ll kill you.”

He couldn’t help but grin. “That’s so sweet. Han, why didn’t you tell anybody about them, huh?”

“I have a reputation and (Y/N) has a reputation,” he huffed. “Now shut up and finish that.”

Down the hall, (Y/N) grinned. Little did Han know, his beskar’gam was almost finished. Most of the pieces were done, except for the helmet, which had an unfinished design. It seemed ridiculous, forging him a set when he’d probably hardly ever wear it, but it meant a lot to (Y/N) that he would simply have it.

(Y/N) loved that mir’sheb.

River’s Tags: @hahaboop & @mystoragehatesme

Masterlist

[shouta-aizawow]

🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻

LOLOLOL SO MANY XDDD

I’ll say a couple things then!!! >:D

1. I posted abt it before but my ecology teacher has two axolotls that she keeps in one of the labs!!! (We don’t do experiments on it ofc) and they’re so precious I take videos and pictures everyday I’m there and send them to my mom XDDD The albino one is smaller and named Bartholomew and the green with brown freckled one is bigger and named James Pond. They’re siblings but we don’t know their genders. ALSO!!! I watched a TedTalk about them and they’re endangered and would live in such an unchanging environment with no natural predators that scientists believe that they’re stuck in that “baby” state bc they never saw the need to evolve and be on land. And there’s competition among the babies so they eat each other but it’s okay because they regenerate fast!!! Anyway I love axolotls so much

2. Squid Game best show

3. BNHA thoughts bc this is a 99% BNHA blog!!!

Hmmmm my mind is drawing a blank 😭😭😭

Oh!!

There are so many things that make me uncomfortable in the BNHA fandom and it’s not even bad things???? Like, Deku Stans, Dekubowl, Romantic Kacchako/BakuJirou, ShinKami, TodoDeku, Deku praise sometimes, saying that the fandom doesn’t talk about a character/ship enough in some way (that’s not Bakugou ofc 😌), and other stuff

And all of this is 100% fine???? But it deadass gives me anxiety when I have to see it. And that’s terrible for when I use Twitter bc I have to see stuff I don’t want to all the time???? So the block and mute buttons get a lot of use but more keep popping up 😫😫😫

Also, for TodoDeku and ShinKami, I don’t like fanart for them most of the time, and 9/10 times the cutesy or whatever way they’re portrayed is extremely boring, but in fics, depending on how they’re written, I like it.

TodoDeku just seems like the friendship that’s like “you’re the first person I met here and now I’m attached to you” which is fine but I’ve felt that and it didn’t turn out well for me at all. Like before, it feels boring and is usually portrayed as a “strong silent type” and “uwu soft boy” and I hate when Deku is characterized that way. (Same with in BkDk and Bakugou is big and buff and angry and masculine and Deku is a skinny twink and feminine. Nothing wrong with femininity in men but like??? Feels very…idk the vibes are allll wrong) (I also don’t like “Deku brains and is scary and outsmarts Bakugou bc Bakugou is a brute that underestimates everyone” when Bakugou is canonically the opposite and is canonically terrifying when he gets serious. He’s always calm and thinks analytically even when he’s angry or shouting, and his battle sense is amazing)

I like “TodoBaku” as a friendship more, because it’s more like “We were forced to work together but hey you’re actually pretty cool and I can be myself around you…✨bestie✨” and it’s great. I adore their relationship

Speaking of that, Remedial Squad honestly seems healthier for both Shouto and Katsuki than the DekuSquad and BakuSquad (minus Kiri)

Idc about the Dekusquad much, but I love the BakuSquad even though I think this

It’s just,,, with the RS (remedial squad), it feels like everyone is one equal grounds. They all failed, they all have similar flaws, they all get along and have similar humor, and it just seems like a group that was put together and came out as friends

With the DS and BS (ha! Bs), it feels like one of those groups you immediately form at the beginning of school. Nothing wrong with that!! But!!

DS feels bland ngl, and yeah Shouto is friends with them, but it feels like there’s a clear hierarchy in a way. Idk why. And I don’t really see Shouto’s personality shining through with them

With the BS, it kinda feels like there’s a disconnect between Bakugou and the rest of them. They get along and I love their friendship, but it honestly feels like a group you just hang out with bc they’re the only ones there even though they’re all great. Their relationships with each other seem to develop more than Bakugou’s relationship with them (minus Kiri) kinda??? And it feels like they’re on different standings than Bakugou, like how the DS is with Deku. Idk (also, in fanfics and stuff there’s always a clear Kiri bias and it’s portrayed as them being Kiri’s friends but Bakugou still hangs out with them. When there’s a fight of KiriBaku start dating, they all abandon Bakugou or threaten Bakugoi to treat Kiri right and everyone tells Bakugou that he doesn’t deserve whoever he’s dating in the squad which???? Terrible, 0/10, no good very bad)

Romantic Kacchako and Romantic BakuJirou is icky. Bakugou with any girl is icky, but I like BakuMomo under specific circumstances. Kacchako is also a painfully het relationship it’s terrible.

Kacchako as a friendship is also boring compared to other Bakugou and girl friendships. It’s not bad, just doesn’t have as much spark as the others imo

KiriMina is also the Het’s couple. It can be cute and I definitely have a more positive opinion on it than Kacchako and BakuJirou, but it’s definitely not my preference

KiriShinBaku is my absolute favorite ship (OT3?)

SeroShinBaku is also amazing, same with Todoroki replacing any of them except Bakugou

Bakubowl >>>> but also they’re the relationships where idm if the others get focused on in terms of affection

BakuDeku is okay but the shippers/seeing someone ship them makes me uncomfortable. It wasn’t always the case until recent manga chapters, and even though I’m fine with fics where they have a romantic relationship (and like to read those), I see them as siblings more than anything else

People that ship Aizawa or All Might with their students ew

That’s a lot I’m sorry!!! As soon as I got what I wanted to say my fingers didn’t stop typing so it’s probably all over the place 😭😭😭

Anyway Moli my beloved thank you!!!!! 🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

[izzy-b-hands]

Kloktober, Oct. 7th: Drunk or Eating Together

Went with Eating Together for this one (I’ve had a long day and Emotions and can’t tackle any topics re: alcohol as I write this lmao) 

So we’ve got Dethklok and Halloween candy instead!

I couldn’t help myself, so I made up stupid off-brand names of famous candy because that seems like something they would have had to do for the show. Please enjoy them, they’re all dumb as shit lol. 

A lil bit of Skwisgaar/Charles towards the end? Which isn’t a ship I’ve ever fallen into really, but it worked out weirdly well here, surprisingly enough!

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

“That candy was for the kids,” Charles sighed. “For trick-or-treating.” 

“It was used for trick-or-treating!” Nathan protested as he shoved a handful of Nards in this mouth. “We trick-or-treated it...from ourselves.” 

“And how exactly does that work?” Charles asked. 

“Allow us to show you,” Pickles replied. “Toki, c’mere.” 

Toki, who was lounged across the other side of the couch with Skwisgaar, with a silent, nearly-in-a-sugar-coma Murderface in between them, jumped up and walked over. 

“Now, whaddya say to me?” 

“Trick or treats!” Toki said cheerfully. 

“Good job, have a Snackers,” Pickles said, and handed him over a fun-sized candy bar. 

“That...but...” Charles sighed. 

“Wait, lets me shows you!” Skwisgaar said. “Nathans, you does it!” 

Nathan, giggling and very clearly on the start of a sugar high, bounced over to Skwisgaar. “Trick or treat!” 

“Heres you go, haves a Twinks!” Skwisgaar handed him the candy bar, giggling just as hard as Nathan went to sit back down by Pickles. 

“What do we do now if any kids come by?” Charles asked.

“They won’t!” Pickles cried. “Last year a kid almost got ate by the yard wolves. People are protesting us this year, didn’t you see them outside?” 

“I thought they had given up, because they aren’t anywhere near us,” Charles said. 

“Nah, theys ams too scareds of the yard wolves to comes closer,” Skwisgaar said. “Sillies. The wolves ams big babies.” 

“Yeah,” Toki smiled. “They loves eatings the Norwegians Whales.” 

“That’s gummy candy,” Charles frowned. “Wolves shouldn’t eat that.” 

“Oh, hellos, ams Mr. Big Executives Wolves All-Knowings Man,” Skwisgaar scoffed. “They ams fines. A littles sugar highs, but fines.” 

“Oh god,” Charles sighed. “How far do you think they’ll roam from the yard, like this?” 

Skwisgaar shrugged. “Thinks abouts it. If yous was a wolves, wheres would you goes after a lot of sugars?” 

“...I don’t have a frame of reference for any of that,” Charles replied. 

“Shames,” Skwisgaar muttered. “Wants a Grounds bar?” 

Charles hesitated. He had a perfect record at his dentist...

But there were protestors outside, and wolves possibly very hungry for meat thanks to all the empty sugary calories they’d been fed, and he would need a high of some kind to deal with the paperwork of the resulting lawsuits. 

Why not a sugar high? 

“Sure,” Charles said, and held out his hand. 

The boys looked aghast. 

“Charles!” Pickles cried. “Manners, ya dildo!” 

“Sorry?” 

“Oh my god, seriously?” Nathan scoffed. “What do you say?” 

“Oh!” he blushed lightly. “Um. Trick or treat?” 

“Betters!” Skwisgaar grinned, and tossed him the candy bar as well as a fun-sized Pecan Hate. “Sees?! I can trains him like the wolves!” 

“I am not trainable,” Charles protested as he unwrapped the candy. 

“That ams debatesable,” Skwisgaar said. “If you would gives me a week...” 

He caught the look in Skwisgaar’s eye, and blushed harder. 

“Uh...isch that screaming?” Murderface lifted his head the bare minimum to try and see, though he was nowhere near a window. 

They listened, and winced at the sounds from outside, including the pounding of wolf paws on the ground. 

“Here,” Skwisgaar handed him another handful of assorted candy. “Fill yous pockets, and come gets mores later. You ams goings to needs it.” 

“Yes,” Charles sighed, and shoved the candy into the pockets of his suit jacket. “Yes I will.” 

“Woulds you likes me to help calls off the wolves?” Skwisgaar asked, shoving a lollipop in his mouth as he got up off the couch.

“I would be in your debt,” Charles replied as they walked to the front door, the rest of the guys back into their candy binge, unconcerned again with the possible wolf-based massacre going on outside. 

“Nots in debts,” Skwisgaar said. “Keeps this ready fors me.” 

He popped the lollipop out of his mouth, and into Charles’ mouth before Charles could utter a word. 

And just when he thought he couldn’t blush any harder, any redder, he managed it anyway, even as he told himself he needed to focus on the situation at hand. 

But he could multitask. And maybe, if Skwisgaar really was up for it, he could be in hand as well. 

[ramblinganthropologist]

N7 Challenge Day 2 - Science

Summary: If you think about it, Shepard is really Cerberus’ fucked up little science project. If Frankenstein’s monster got to complain a little about conditions, then Miranda’s can whine she left some nonessential parts in. 

---

As much as he hated what Cerberus had done with the place... maybe the top floor being his wasn't so bad after all.

Alistair sighed as the door slid shut behind him. Up here, he was finally alone. Nobody was staring at him like he had two heads or was gaping at the fact he should have been 6 feet under or in a jar. Better yet, nobody was asking him how he was going to stop the Collectors from abducting another human colony or what the next move is. Here he could relax and breathe a little.

Breathing... right.

“Ugh...” His shirt dropped to the floor as he examined his appearance in the mirror. There were new bruises, not quite broken ribs. He had been lucky this time according to a bemused Doctor Chakwas. She had told him before to go in for the surgery, but he hadn't gotten the chance before dying. Now...

He prodded his binder in the mirror. “I still have no idea why she kept these. Don't see how having a flat chest would make me any worse.”

Something something, exactly as he was supposed to be? It was bullshit if you asked Alistair. Of course, nobody was asking him. They probably figured it was good enough that he was alive. Why bother dealing with worrying about it, Commander Shepard was alive again.

Commander Shepard was also risking broken ribs every mission, thank you very much. Maybe the magic science bullshit wizards should have considered that when they were putting him back together.

He let both the matter and his binder drop, though one took a bit more effort. After changing, it was back to an oversized hoodie as he settled in to get some work done. On the bright side, he could breathe. Downside... everything else.

Hi, gender dysphoria. Apparently you were crucial to saving humanity or something.

He lost himself to his work, reviewing records and checking on possible colonies, for the better part of an hour. Alistair would have stayed longer – there was plenty of reports to sift through – but someone was knocking at his door. Like, actually knocking and not using their omni-tool to let him know they were there.

So... that narrowed things.

“Be right there, Bo!” His new joints didn't creak as he rose, but there was plenty of time for that. Besides, he made up for that with the glowing exposed implants sticking out of his jaw and forehead. It wasn't a pretty sight – though it may have been improved if he could've hacked the color to blue. As a pink-toned ginger, red was kind of overkill. Besides, blue was his favorite color and they were his damn life sustaining implants. If anyone got to pick the color, it was him.

But... he wasn't allowed to try changing the color. Something about maybe killing him. He had kind of lost focus during that conversation.

Speaking of – the door slid open, revealing his XO on the other side. Bo looked about as comfortable on the new Normandy as he was, and she cast a wary eye around as she entered the room. Then she looked towards the floor, and where his clothing still lay. Her lip curled at the sight of her binder, and he swore he saw murder in her eyes.

“You gotta be kidding me, they didn't deal with that while you were dead?!”

Alistair, despite everything, emphatically groaned. “No, they fucking didn't! I'm pretty sure I've got everything that came with the original hardware!”

They both shared a scowl as Bo took a seat on his bed. As she did, she tossed him her omni-tool. Unsurprisingly, it was broken again. What did catch him off guard was that it was the same model she had been using before he died.

There had to have been easy models between 2183 and 85...

“You've made it idiot-proof, don't think too hard about it.” Bo was still scowling. “Remind me to punch Miranda for her weird little science experiment when I see her again. She spent all that time on you and she couldn't make a few modifications?”

Alistair rolled his eyes as he started to tinker with the omni-tool. “With pleasure. If she could add an eye, I don't see why she couldn't figure out testicles. They didn't even need to work, I don't plan on having children.”

His XO snickered at that. “Not that you could have kids with a turian anyway. Pretty sure even Mordin couldn't get levo and dextro to gel.”

The mere mention of turians caused Alistair's face to turn scarlet. He ducked his head in the excuse of examining the details on the broken omni-tool. The screen was cracked, but he had a replacement for that. Mostly, it just looked like she had knocked the wires loose – probably punched someone a little too hard. His reinforcements probably came loose over two years. Easy fix.

Maybe he should just design a whole new one for her...

“Thinking about Garrus, huh?”

There was a teasing tone to Bo's voice that made his cheeks even redder. Alistair shot her a blank look as he reached for a small device in his toolbox. Even after the Normandy exploded, it was good to know someone had salvaged it.

After all, what would he do without his trusty work vibrator?

“I can't believe you actually still use that.” Bo's tone was flat as she watched him apply the vibration to check for weak spots. “You're such a fucking nerd.”

Alistair snickered as he looked up from his work. “Given what I'm working with -”

“Gross. Please tell me you got another one of those.”

No, but it wasn't like he got a lot of private time given how often he had to fix something or save somebody from certain doom so it was kind of low on his list of priorities. Besides, being zombie Jesus in N7 armor made that kind of purchase... awkward.

Like, who expects the risen Commander Shepard to walk in looking for a vibrator anyway?

“I don't need one for actual use right now, thankfully.” He whistled low once he spotted the problem. “Wow, you sure knocked this one loose. Another centimeter and the whole thing would have been a total loss.”

Bo sighed in relief. “Good thing I didn't hit that one krogan twice then.”

Of course she'd hit a krogan. She was always doing that.

“Next time, just use your biotics.” Alistair shook his head as he started the repairs. Honestly, it wasn't the ideal situation. He had picked his hoodie for size and comfort, but the problem was the sleeves were a little large on him and had a place he could stick his thumb through if he felt like it. Normally that was fine – hiding his hands was a plus sometimes – but it didn't work when he was soldering.

And... ok, maybe a hoodie with hamster ears wasn't the best tech wear.

At least Bo didn't laugh when he rolled up his sleeves and kept working. He didn't mind her presence either as he made sure the wires weren't going anywhere once she started swinging again. Something about having her on his bed, watching him work, was comforting. In a sense, it was home. Though Cerberus had tried, they hadn't quite figured out how to hit that for him in their mad dash to convince him to work for them. Just the fact they had left him a uterus was a black mark they were never getting rid of, the rest was just icing on the shit cake of why he would eventually be stealing their ship and hightailing it back to the Alliance with all their info.

What, Frankenstein's monster caused a little havoc in his day. Wasn't he entitled to do the same? He hadn't exactly been asked to be brought back to save the galaxy.

“Just a little more and -” the screen glowed to life under his hands. “There we go, it's working again!”

Almost immediately, a message started playing. “Commander Shepard, if you could meet me in-”

Shit. He knew that voice. One eye landed on his XO – she had already tensed up. Then there was something about reports needing to be filed and she might have been behind on doing that? Honestly, no surprises there; Bo was analog, so computers tended to break around her. They'd probably been doing it even more with the Cerberus agent on her back about it.

If he wasn't careful, she was going to break the omni-tool, and he was out of spare parts...

“Fuck off, Miranda. I'll get to it once the computer's fixed.”  Bo reached over to shut off the link with surprising delicacy. She must have seen the fear in his eyes and held pity over his rebuilt form. “You think she'd get I hate her.”

He shrugged his shoulders as he started to clean. “Maybe she enjoys having an angry lesbian hating her.”

“Then she should love having a pissed off twink despising her.”

Despise – that was a good word. He'd accept it. It got close enough in his mind to how he actually felt as he swept away the remains of his repair project.  With a clean work space, it was easier to think. Not that it was ever completely easy, but it helped.

Though... did he hear something about a broken computer?

“So do you want me to fix that or what?”

Bo responded by practically picking him up and depositing him on the bed. “I want you to get some fucking sleep. You look like death.”

“I slept for 2 years-”

“Then a few more hours won't bother you.” She shot him a look. “You can't fix everything. It'll be there when you get up.”

Alistair wanted to argue, but it was impossible. When Bo got like that, he didn't stand a chance. Most times, he didn't even try. Mostly he was just annoyed she had picked him up like he was his own damn hamster.

He was a fully grown man, damn it...

“Alright, I'll swing by when I wake up.”

Bo nodded and started to retreat. “See you when you do. I'm going to go punch Miranda in the face for the uterus bullshit.”

Honestly, he wasn't sure if she was being serious as the door closed around him and the light dimmed. EDI had probably been listening in by then. It kept him from having to get up as he pulled off his hoodie and crawled under the blanket.

That was something else he would have to see to when he woke up. In a weird way, it was ironically appropriate. After all, Miranda's monster was going to have to go save Miranda from the angry villagers.

That, or Miranda's monster could just sleep a little longer. Being brought back from the dead was exhausting work. Maybe a nap wasn't such a bad idea after all...

[forlornmelody]

Kord Center Mall: Rose Takes Bart to a Rave

Rating: Explicit (there’s smut, and drug use, and lots of swearing)

Fandom(s): Mass Effect, DC Comics

Ship: JayRose (Jason Todd/Rose Wilson)

AO3 Link: Here

Summary: Even the best-made plans go sideways, sometimes.In which Rose plans to have a good time with her NOT boyfriend, but ends up watching over the most annoying and most adorable kid working at Kord Center Mall.

Note: This is a cross over, mall-verse AU concocted by @scifi-ginger and myself. You’ve been warned.

-*-*-

Rose Wilson has three stops she makes on her hour-long lunch break. How she managed to get an hour instead of 30 minutes like most part-timers, no one seems to know. Her desk partner, Cassandra Sandsmark--regular employee of the month and all-around wonder girl, has definitely noticed, and she protests every time Rose leaves. Their manager likes Rose, so he never says anything. Or maybe he’s terrified of her dad like everyone else. Getting into his scheduling software is easy enough, especially since he has the password on a sticky note behind his monitor. It’s not Rose’s fault if he doesn’t bother to memorize it.

First she goes to Joey’s counter at MAC. For someone who’d rather sign than talk, Joey sure sells a lot of beauty products. It’s probably the way he smiles at his customers, giving them bedroom eyes regardless of their gender. When Rose spots him, he’s chatting up some twink who has trouble standing still. Joey lays a steadying hand on his shoulder, applying the liquid eye liner like he’s still in art school. He waves at Rose when he’s done with the makeover, walking the guy over to the counter to what’s surely going to be a big sale. When the customer signs his receipt, he also jots down his number. Taking the receipt, Joey nods at the guy, then at Rose.

“Oh! Sorry. Didn’t realize you’d been waiting.” The twink stumbles out of the store, leaving Joey and Rose alone at the counter.

Joey punches the guy’s number into his phone and Rose rolls her eyes. Her brother sets his phone down, and his hands flurry into signs. “What? Was it something I said?”

Rose leans across the counter, so his co-worker can’t hear her talk. “Really? Are you going to seduce every single person who comes in here?”

Waving his hand dismissively, Joey snorts. “He was cute.”

“You say that about everyone, Joey. And I won’t let you tarnish my reputation as the skankiest Wilson.”

Leaning back towards her with a wicked gleam in his eye, Joey slaps his hand on the counter. “I’m pretty sure Pop has us both beat there.”

“Gross.” Rose starts to walk out, but her phone pings. 

I still want Vega’s number.

Rose turns back to face him, grinning widely as she moonwalks out the store. “Fucking a personal trainer won’t get you a free membership!” She calls out.

Joey’s hands move so big Rose is convinced the department store across the hall can see. “But it will get me some exercise!”

 Shaking her head, Rose moves on to the crystal shop three doors down. Rachel, or Raven, as most call her, is busy ringing someone up, so Rose peruses the tea selection. She isn’t really sure what to make of the supernatural or the paranormal, to be honest, but she humors her friend--getting palm and tarot readings from her so Raven can practice. Every so often she’ll even join her meditation sessions, though Rose has the worst time sitting still. Her latest mantra is “I’d rather be punching a bag” over and over until Raven shoves her away.

Ignoring the names of the teas, Rose takes her time sniffing each jar for the one’s that’ll taste best. She picks one up that smells like almost nothing. What’s the fucking poi--

“I don’t think you need anything for erectile dysfunction.” Raven drawls from behind her. “If you do, we really need to talk.”

“Jesus.” Rose jumps a little, slamming the lid back down. “You’ve got to stop doing that.”

“Are you actually going to buy something, or are you just here to fuck off?” Raven folds her arms, eyeing Rose with a smirk. 

“What’s a good compliment to some dank weed?” Rose leans back against the shelves, jostling several jars in her wake.

Raven scoffs, but digs out a couple jars, pushing Rose out of the way. “What does Joey think about you partying with the mall’s resident bad boys?”

“And girl.” Rose holds up a finger like a kindergarten teacher. “Don’t forget the girl.” As if anyone could forget Jack Nought. With her mohawk and tats, she looks like she walked off the set of Mad Max. Maybe she did. Jack can do whatever the fuck she wants. “And Joey trusts me to take care of myself.” She pokes Raven in the nose. “Unlike some people.”

“Har har.” Raven waves her off like a fly. “And your dad?” Her voice lightens, and her eyebrows knit together, all airs of indifference falling away. She moves behind the counter, measuring and weighing the ounces of tea, only to toss the generous amounts in the bags anyway. Samara lets Raven do what she wants, too. They should start a club.

“He can go fuck himself.” 

“You know, I have an extra room available if you--”

“Don’t.” Rose eyes the register to see what total Raven rang up, and slams extra down on the counter.

“Fine.” Raven starts to count out her change. Rose leaves before she can put it in her hands. Good thing she was already on her way to the punk store.

Jack is chewing and blowing bubblegum when Rose walks in. “Hey fucker,” she calls out affectionately.

“Fuck you too, Jack.” Rose circles the counter, squeezing Jack’s butt in her usual greeting--her eyes searching the merchandise.

“Looking for Jason?” Jack slaps her ass in reply. He’s running inventory in the back.”

“No, your other boy toy.” Rose quips as she heads towards the backdoor. She’s not allowed back there, but she’s on good terms with the management team.

Jason is waist deep in open boxes when she finds him. “Hey asshole,” she says to his back as he studies his clipboard. 

“Jesus.” Jason slips and falls back against one stack of merchandise. His clipboard goes flying. Peanuts rain down on their heads. “Hey bastard.”

Rose picks the peanuts from her hair, squishing one between her fingers. “Excuse me? You’re the one who’s adopted.”

Jason pulls her down with him. “You’re the one who disowned her dad.” 

Plastic bags squeak underneath their feet as she settles down next to him. “He deserved it.” Next to Jason isn’t close enough. Rose crawls into his lap.

“Rose, I’m a little--”

“Busy?” Her breath ghosts across his lips. “Not busy enough.” His body always feels so warm beneath her hands.

Jason’s lips part, and his hand wanders back and forth across the top of her shoulder, like he can’t decide between pushing her away and pulling her closer. “Jack will kill us if she finds us goofing off.”

“Since when do you care about the rules?” She kisses him once, long and slow, one hand scratching the back of his neck. “And she won’t kill me. I’m on break.” 

Jason swears. “I’m already behind today.”

“Does that mean yes?”

“You asked?” He kisses her this time, pulling her tight against him. They fit together like puzzle pieces. 

Rose trails her other hand down his side, sliding it between them. She drinks in his groan, sliding her tongue into his mouth, and her hand into his hoodie pocket. 

Jason seizes her wrist, pulling away from her mouth. His breath comes out ragged. “Really?”

Sitting back, she pouts. “Empty? Nothing? Nada? Zilch?”

“I’m working.”

“Not even one joint? You disappoint me, Todd.”

“I’m not going to get arrested at work, Wilson.”

“At least tell me there’s a party this weekend.” Rose traces the lines of Jason’s jaw. She could do it all day. It’s not her fault he’s so easy on the eyes. 

Jason leans back against the boxes, pulling Rose with him. “Mm. I think there’s a rave.”

Grinning slowly, Rose braces her hands on either side of his head, letting her hair drape around their faces. “Please tell me we’re going.”

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll get a group together.” He slides her hoodie’s zipper down. “Get a couple cars going.” His eyebrows scrunch together as he grins up at her. “Shouldn’t you be thinking about right now?”

“Depends.” Her hand slides underneath his hoodie and his shirt, shivering at the way his skin jumps. It should be illegal for someone to be this perfect. “Is it going to be more fun than this weekend?”

Jason rolls them over, pushing her shirt up. “Depends.” He lavishes her middle with kisses. “On.” A breath. “Where your head's at.”

If anything, Rose doesn’t like where her thoughts are headed. It’s all too easy to imagine dinner dates and long walks on the beach, or whatever it is couples do. So, she plays with the hair on the back of Jason’s head as he makes his way lower and lower. No matter what happens, no one can take this moment from them--from her. Maybe Jason’s right. 

“Rose?” Jason’s hands let go of her jeans, and he’s watching her. Shit.  

Shaking it off, Rose pulls him back to her. “C’mere.” Her lips crash into his, biting his bottom lip until he hisses into her mouth. “You’re short on time, right?” She slides her hand down, unbuttoning his jeans.

It’s a bold face lie and they both know it. “Yeah.” Jason gulps, sliding his hand inside her jeans. He pauses at what he finds or doesn’t find there. “Rose?”

“Shhh.” She shoves her jeans down, guiding his fingers. “It won’t take long, I promise.”  Rose grins against his lips. “Especially with you.” 

Jason’s kiss is a little too tender, his touch a little too reassuring, so Rose goes in hard. Her lips crash into his and she bites his bottom lip. As he moans into her mouth, she yanks his jeans out of her way, feeling along his length. 

“Mm.” Rose tugs his ear lobe between her teeth, shivering at his sharp breath in her hair. “You are all I need right now. Just you.” 

“Fuck, Rose.” Jason rocks into her hand, gripping her shoulders hard. “I need you, too.” He just manages to get beneath her underwear again, snickering between moans. “That’s more like it.” 

“Nng.” Rose leans her head against Jason’s shoulder as his knuckle digs against her clit. It slips a little against her soaked skin. This is what she needs. “Just like that.” Panting, she bites his neck where it meets his shoulder. 

Jason shakes, shakes under her touch. “Rose--” Her name isn’t a question this time. It’s a plea. 

Rose snickers. “You want me?” Fuck, the way he whimpers as she shoves his underwear down. “You need me?”

“Rose, please.” Jason kisses her hungrily, fumbling as he pulls her underwear past her hips. 

Swallowing hard, Rose digs through his pockets until she finds what she’s looking for. There. She grins, holding up the condom where Jason can see. He nods, and she slides it on him. Together they slide him inside her, and together they are a mess of limbs and teeth. 

“Oh, fuck.” Rose whimpers, falling back against one of the stacks. It’s a little soon and a little rough, but it’s exactly what she needs right now. “Fuck, yes.”

“Y-yeah.” Jason drives into her, gripping her hips so tight she’ll have bruises later. He bites her neck, marking her in kind. Oh fuck, the boxes are going to fall over. 

Moaning into his ear, she slides her fingers beneath his shirt, skimming her nails down his back.

“Rose,” he gasps. Now it’s a statement. A warning.  

“Jason, I need--” Rose whimpers. She’s so close. 

“Shh.” He catches her lips, taking her hand and putting it between them. 

Rose circles her clit quickly, closing her eyes as Jason pulses inside her. His fingers slide over hers, and he pants into her neck as her world tilts on tilts on its axis. 

Seconds, minutes, hours? Later she turns her head and finds him lying next to her, and they snicker together. Rose pushes a sweaty lock of hair out of his eyes. 

“How the fuck am I supposed to work after that?” Jason traces her bottom lip with his finger. 

“There’s a Starbucks across the hall.” Ah fuck. There’s that feeling again. Rose kisses his finger once, then sits up, grabbing her clothes and throwing them on. “What time on Saturday?”

Jason blinks up at her, pushing himself off the floor. “....Eight, I guess? It’s out of town.”

Rose snatches one last kiss from his lips. “See you then, asshole.”

“Catch you later, bastard.”

_____________________

 Fuck him. Fuck Jason Todd. Fuck his entire fucking family. Rose stares down at her phone, the bass of the warehouse thumping even from across the field-turned parking lot. 

“What’s wrong?” Bart leans over her shoulder, reading Jason’s text message. 

Stuck at Bruce’s party. I’ll make it up to you later, I promise. 

Rose swats him away. “He fucking bailed.” 

Jack and Roy had already gone inside. They wouldn’t be able to find them til sunrise. And Jason wasn’t coming. That just left her and Bart “I can’t shut up” Allen. Two hours in the backseat doing her best to ignore him. Oo! What music are you listening to? Can I share? Lemme make you a playlist. Do you like Kesha? I LOVE KESHA. Rose didn’t even need to respond. He’d just keep talking. 

“Jason bailed? What happened? Was it one of those Wayne Manor parties? Maybe we should go there.”

“It’s two hours away and we’re not invited, dumbass.” Rose made her way to the door. “You got your ID?”

“Well. Oh! You mean that ID.” Bart waggled his eyebrows. “Yeah. Tim made me one.” He pulled it out, waving it in front of her face.

“Gimme that.” Rose eyed it. “No way you’re passing for thirty.” She shoved it in her pocket. 

“But how am I going to get inside?” He trailed after her.

“Lemme worry about that.” Rose spun around, and Bart ran into her. “But you need to let me do the talking. Kay?”

“Kay.”

“How’d you get invited, anyway?” Rose stomped toward the doors, doing her best to put on a winning smile. She needed something good, stat. 

“Oh! Tim invited me. But he had to go to Bruce’s party too.”

“So I get to babysit you instead. Fucking fantastic.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault Jason flaked.”

Rose stopped, glaring at him. “I was supposed to get high and laid tonight. But no. I get stuck with you.”

Bart flushed as red as his hair. “I mean. You still c-can. I won’t stop y-you.” 

“Wally would turn me into a statue and put me in a museum, so no. That’s not happening.” The Wayne boys owed her big time. 

“ID’s?” The bouncer shined a flash night near their faces, eyeing them. 

Rose pressed her ID into the guys hand, biting her grin. “Hey there.” 

The bouncer smirked. “Who’s the kid?”

“Oh, him? He’d just here to drive us home. Just got his license, right Bart?” Rose giggled. “Hey, you busy later, or--?” She swiped the sharpie from his pocket, scribbling a phone number on his arm. 

“Have fun. But keep him out of trouble.”

Rose threw him a mock salute, shoving Bart inside before the bouncer could change his mind. “Whew. Okay. Just promise me you won’t do anything--”

“Oo. What’s this?”

Turning around, Rose caught Bart popping a brightly colored pill into his mouth. “Bart, no!” Shit shit shit. She grabbed his wrist.

Bart’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Too late.”

“You don’t know what’s in that!” Fuck. Wally was going to kill her. 

“I’ll be fiiine. You worry too much. Let’s dance!” Bart tugs her to the middle of the room, oblivious to the strangers he’s running into. Yup. If Wally doesn’t kill her first, Bart is first on her shit list.

At least the music’s nice--loud and thrumming through her entire body. She would almost enjoy it, if it weren’t for the looming feeling of shit about to hit the fan. It’s one thing if Rose gets high and gets sick and wakes up in the ER--Bart’s just a kid.

 After a few songs, Rose starts to think maybe Bart just found some candy and is just messing around to piss her off. 

Then he steps inside her bubble. She can’t hear what he’s saying, so Bart yells in her ear. “You’re really pretty.”

Fucking fantastic. “And you’re high. Fuck off.”

Bart moves back, only to dive in closer, tripping over Rose’s feet. “This stuff is great. I can see why you wanted it. I can fly.” He scrunches his nose. “No. I could run. Run right across the ocean something.”

That’s a mental image that will haunt her later. “You’re not even close, kid.” It’s then Bart decides to grind up against some dude twice his age. It’s then Rose decides to steer him outside.

“Ro-ose.” 

“Shove it, Bart. We can still hear it out here.” 

“Oo. It’s so nice and cold out here. You’re right.” Rose has to peel herself out of his hug. He only hugs her again, spinning them around. “You’re the best.”

“And you’re still high.” How long does that shit last, anyway? Time drags on so much longer when she’s sober. 

“Noooo. I mean it.” Bart pokes her nose. “You’re watching out for me. You’re like my big sister.”

“Your big sister that will kill you if Wally doesn’t get to you first.”

Bart stares at her jacket, running his finger along stitching on her sleeve. 

“You okay?” Rose has no idea how it’s possible, but quiet Bart is worse than talkative Bart. 

“You got any gum?” Bart doesn’t wait for her answer, digging through her pockets until he finds some. He then unwraps the rest of her back before shoving it in his mouth.

“Yeah, sure. Have some gum.” It’s going to be a long night--Rose can tell.

“Got any water?” Bart fiddles with the zipper on her pocket. “I’m so thirsty. Do you get thirsty on this stuff?”

Rose groans, dragging him back inside. “Let’s find you some gatorade.”

------

Hours, maybe centuries later, Bart sits with Rose outside, snuggled up to her as close as he can get. Her tiny leather jacket doesn’t really work as a blanket for them both, but it’ll have to do. “Still cold?” She asks. 

Bart’s voice is muffled against her collarbone. “Yeah. But it’s better.” 

Rose rests her chin on top of his head, rubbing her head down his back. She’ll probably never know what having a little brother feels like, but this will do. Damnit. Bart might be the stupidest little fuck, but he’s her stupid little fuck and she will fucking murder anyone who hurts him. Her knuckles will have bruises by morning, but she’ll feel better than the creep with the freshy broken nose.

“Rose?” Bart sighs, and Rose feels him tremble.

“Yeah?”

“You ever like someone who didn’t like you back?”

Rose chews her lip, remembering Dick and his impossibly blue eyes, and his stupid grin. How she’d move the world for him and he’d still just pat her on the head like she was his kid sister. Bart didn’t need to know about that. “Yeah.” The whole world didn’t need to know it either.

“Why does it hurt so much?” Bart breathes in like there’s ice in his lungs. 

“Fuck, Bart. What did you take?” Rose tilts his chin up, studying his face, as if that will give her a good answer. It won’t.

“No. I mean. When you lo--like someone, and they think you’re best friends. Why does it have to hurt like this?” Bart sniffs. “How do you people deal with this all the time?”

Rose stares at him. Not once has she ever seen Bart cry. Bart isn’t the kind of kid who knows how to cry--not because he’s some bro-ner clutching his man card. Sadness and Bart just don’t go together. He has one mode, only one, and that is pure joy and smiles and energy that usually makes Rose want to hurl. What the hell happened to the kid who came with her to the rave? Only when her mouth feels dry does Rose realize that her jaw fell open. She snaps it back shut. “Do you need me to kill someone?”

“What? No. No. He’s perfect. He just doesn’t like me back.” Bart shakes, vibrating through his entire body. “Of all people I could finally fall for--why’d it have to be him?”

“Him, huh?” Rose smirks, handing him yet another tissue. “Do I know this him?”

A sniff. “Yeah. I think he parties with Roy and Jason sometimes.”

“That really narrows it down.” Rose rolls her eyes.

“He’s got this great tan, and he always smells like taco seasoning.”

“So romantic.”

“And when he speaks Spanish it’s like--” Bart laughs “my brain finally stops, you know?” He stares up at the sky as if the object of his affection can be found among the constellations. “I used to think he looked kind of funny, I mean, who spends that much time on their hair? But now? I can’t stop thinking about how I want to mess up that hair. Run my fingers through it, I mean.”

“Wait. Jaime? The kid who works at Taco Bell?”

“You’re the same age as him.”

“Yeah, but the way he kisses R--never mind.” Rose coughs. “Have you told him yet?”

“Told him what?”

“Told him how you feel?”

“Jaime? No. No. I can’t.” Bart jumps out of her arms, pacing back and forth so fast he almost seemed like a blur in the low light. 

Rose smirked. “You both speak English, you both work at the same mall. There is no reason you can’t tell him you want to jump his bones.”

“But what if he doesn’t like me back? He’s my best friend Rose! What if it gets weird??”

“Then find someone else to bang?”

“I can’t.” Bart stops, biting his lip so hard it turns white. “...This isn’t so easy for me.” He scratches his scalp, his skin turning as red as his hair. “The last time I dated a friend...he didn’t feel the same way. And now it’s weird.” Bart sniffs.

Oh no. Not again. “Bart--”

“I can’t lose Jaime like that.” And there he goes. “I don’t want to.”

“Oh Bart.” Rose hugs him, patting the back of his head. He’s probably going to outgrow her in a year. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“I hardly ever feel this way about anybody. I just--”

She pulls away enough to stare him in the face. “Bart. You work at Kord Square. Everyone there is queer. You have lots of friends.”

“But--”

“Bartholomew Henry Allen II, you will be fine. I promise. Let’s go hang out in the car, yeah?” Bart mutters an okay, rubbing his eyes, and Rose guides him back, a plan already forming in her mind. She can practically see the outcome. Those two love birds won’t know what hit them. 

[captainshadowgirllostfan]

This is based on stuff that’s going on now and stuff I’m reading. Star Wars AU, though the beginning I’m putting is technically not really anyway:

Also disclaimer I don’t own Star Wars and a lot of this is probably wrong anyway.

For as long as Melee could remember, all she's been was a slave.

She could barely remember what her life was before bondage. 

Her name was Melody, she remembered. In a way her name was a remnant of who she was only now she is only called Melee in reference to how she tends to get into fights a lot or is forced to fight for entertainment and not for the music her mother so loved. 

She was only four when she was separated from her parents. 

They were low-class workers, her father worked in a factory, her mother was a waitress. Soon enough though these jobs were gone. It was the machines that replaced them. Machines she now help fix for her masters.

Droids were just much cheaper to employ because you didn’t have to pay wages to them.

So her father was without a job, and her mother too.

In these foggy memories of hers, in a life she could now barely comprehend beyond Tatooine’s twin suns and the sandy dunes of the planet’s eternal deserts, she remembers a city of metal and steel that was so much worse than Tatooine’s poverty.

Because over in this steel city where Melee’s family lived in their cooped up one bedroom apartment, there was no sun. Not to them anyway. Not in the lower levels of their poverty of which the wealthy likes to hide and pretend didn’t exist. This was the place where it was clear they were invisible and unrecognized. 

They might as well have not existed.

She remembers her parents fighting constantly over things she could barely understand at four years old. All she knew was that at the time was the feeling that home was going to be lost.

There was a man who worked with the Trade Federation. He said he was working with them to bring workers into their employ, a new job training program. 

A new factory position in a new plant in a new planet.

Melee’s mama didn’t like it. She didn’t trust these Federation types. But eventually with the bills piling up and rent being impossible to pay now that the two of them were unemployed, their unemployment benefits and food stamps were just not enough to get by. It seemed the family would soon find themselves homeless so she went along with Melee’s papa’s idea to spend the last of their savings to go move to another planet and start a new life.

Melee was rather certain that was what was supposed to happen anyway.

Instead the place they found themselves in were on the other end of the barrel of guns pointed at them, forcing them into chains and into a ship overflowed with people locked up in one room like cattle.

This wasn’t what Melee ever pictured her family’s new life to be.

That was about the last time she saw her family. 

She still remembers her mother’s crying face and her father who tried to fight. They shot him dead in front of her.

The next was her mother who tried to threaten the overseer to release her. It almost worked. 

Almost. 

The chip that would track her or have her go off in an explosion of flesh weren’t in her yet and she could’ve tried to find a ship maybe to go but it was fruitless. The overseers and auctioneers undressed the new slaves and running around naked was a dead giveaway.

A good beating in front her mother kept her in line. That was the last time any attempts of escape were made.

Sadly for her, a beating wasn’t enough to convince Gardulla that being with her mother wasn’t going to be a problem. They took her mother away and sold her away, probably to some brothel as that was the favorite place to sell women like Melee’s mother 

 Melee never saw her again.

This you could imagine, was a lot for a four going on five year old to take. 

Melee still remembers the cold nights and the crying. 

She was lucky to have other old slave women around to mind her, those who like Melee’s mother were forced away from their children.

She doesn’t cry in her sleep anymore. Somehow she’s adapted since coming to Tatooine. For a long time, Melee’s learned to harden herself and keep her emotions away.

To be cold.

The idea of entertaining freedom or anything constituting a good life was naive. Even free, people suffer and are always under the thumb of those higher. That was how the galaxy worked. Melee understood that better than anything.

And in some ways she’s made peace with her enslavement. What was there to complain about. She got free food, a place to stay. And yes there were times she resented having her skills be used for the benefit of her keepers, for them to profit from her but well… at least she’s not homeless and starving…

So when Melee meets Anakin Skywalker for the first time, she feels nothing more than rage the moment he opens his mouth and says, “Someday I’m going to be free.” in that dreamy way of his with eyes shining wide and a knowing smile on his face.

“Oh yeah and what makes you say that?” she asks. At this point, a year had passed and she'd been accustomed to living with that slug Gardulla. Anakin was her first mentor and friend, helping her and teaching her what he knew about mechanics, skills his mother was teaching him.

“I just do. I dreamt it.” he said grinning while putting together a B12F60 droid’s arm back into it’s lock with a blissl tuner.

“Dreams don’t come true dummy” she scoffed as she took the tool back from him and looked for a screwdriver to tighten the bolts better. “They’re just dreams. Wishes you wish came true.” 

“Nuhuh, my dreams do come true. Sometimes I wish it didn’t.” he muttered and then turned to look at her his blue eyes twinking as he took the screwdriver and started tightening the droids arms together, “When we first came to Tatooine, mom and I, I had a dream that I was a Jedi and I came back to free the slaves”

Melee yawned and rolled her eyes, “Yeah you tell yourself that, meanwhile the rest of us whose grounded in reality are just going to focus on surviving and avoiding the slaver’s whip.” 

Melee got up and dusted herself. She turned to Anakin who was finishing their latest installments of the droid. “Anakin if you keep entertaining the notion of freedom, you’re going to get yourself beaten, killed or worse. Hell, you’ll bring that hell to the rest of us by association.”

This time Anakin scoffed, “Just because you’re afraid of wanting things or being something doesn’t mean the rest of us should.” And then he hummed and opened up the droid’s head. 

It was the day after Melee decided to avoid Anakin Skywalker. She didn’t want to suffer anymore than she had and she didn’t want to feel anything for anybody, but she’d be lying if she said there wasn’t anything that didn’t attract her to him. He was a shining beacon of light and he did inspire people to want things they never thought they deserved to have.

And that was dangerous.

Melee was quite fine with the way things were. She didn’t want to entertain the idea of having more, because the last time that happened, her family were enslaved anyway. The worst thing anyone could do was give you false hope and while Anakin shined, there wasn’t anything that was true to his words or his bearing. Just false dreams and wishes. And it was a stupid thing to die for in Melee’s opinion.

So she avoided Anakin Skywalker, and stuck around with Seek who was a bully around the Slave Quarters. She joined in too. She despised Anakin’s motley crew despite deep down wanting to join them when they go off in their picnics or to watch Anakin fix his podracer for the Boonta Eve Race during the rare moments of free time they got. 

Anakin was the only human who could race the podracing circuits and not die… yet. 

Perhaps if there was anyone who could do the impossible it would be Anakin.

But Melee wasn’t ready to let herself hope yet.

NOTE: I know nothing about STAR WARS mechanics sadly and I have no idea how people write it. Funny enough I have plans to have more of that but don’t know how I’m going to write it if I know nothing about mechanics -_-

[vancilocs]

31-47 for ninida, lazlo(was it lazlo, call me out of i wrote it wrong) aand max?

add an s and make it laszlo and you’re golden! (it’s actually laszlowaria but ain’t nobody got time for that)

31. Do they drink? What are they like drunk? What are they like hungover? How do they act when other people are drunk or hungover? Kind or teasing?

Ninida drinks somewhat, not much, rarely to the point of being hammered but tipsy maybe once a week or so. He’s a lot more jovial and affectionate when drunk, likes hugs, will pet your hair if you have it, laughs and is just a general good sport. Complete opposite when hungover, just leave him into his blanket burrito to recover. Will growl if someone comes too close. Kinda exasperated if people are drunk or hungover around him, complains about it, but if it’s a friend he’ll help in whatever way needed.

Laszlo can drink you under the table, he’s a regular in a local bar when not on duty and has a pocket flask for when he is. Never hammered during working hours but a little tipsy maybe, only blackout drunk if knows he has no duties. Even more out of it when drunk, somehow falls off the floor. His stories have no end, rambles in circles until he passes out, stories may or may not be true at all. Quietly looks after drunk and hungover people by making sure they aren’t in immediate danger, otherwise stays out of it.

Max can drink more than you’d think, she’s short but also has a pretty good resistance… might have drank a tad too much at parties when she was younger. Very rarely gets drunk anymore. Louder and more emotional in every way when drunk, laughs one second, cries the next, gets angry immediately. A mother hen when others get drunk, as a bartender she’s pretty good at spotting when people have had too much.

32. What do they dress like? What sorta shops do they buy clothes from? Do they wear the fashion that they like? What do they wear to sleep? Do they wear makeup? What’s their hair like?

Ninida doesn’t care about makeup or fashion, just skincare sometimes and the functionality of the clothes (as long as he can show his arms). Lots of pockets, a bulletproof vest under the hoodie. Gloves are cosmetic. Sleeps with sweatpants or underwear on.

Laszlo is colourblind and mostly wears black, puts comfort and functionality over looks, but with a thotty twist. His hair he keeps just long enough to tie up, otherwise his nose and medusa piercings are the most he’s done for his looks. He mainly wears the catsuit given by his boss, otherwise it’s capri pants and t-shirts that don’t get stuck on his shin and forearm spikes. Sleeps with a t-shirt and underwear.

Max takes clothing very seriously, orders mainly online from specific goth brands that carry her size, has outfits planned. Makeup is a second job to her and barely ever steps out the house without it, also makes sure her hair is in ship-shape. Very looks-oriented.

33. What underwear do they wear? Boxers or briefs? Lacey? Comfy granny panties?

Just… boxers, comfy

Boxers mainly, sometimes backwards, sometimes he forgets

Comfy panties, cute to give confidence but nothing that chafes, she’s on her feet a lot as bartender. Has a bunch of lacy ones for sure.

34. What is their body type? How tall are they? Do they like their body?

He’s typical for a nedian, some 172 cm maybe, slim, a bit less muscular than many others but not too bad of a twink. He’s okay with how he looks, women are the more beefy ones anyways

Around 180 cm, a little over maybe, thicc as a tree trunk. Typical strong arms and thighs for climbing but also some belly fat and love handles to spare. Just an absolute unit and he’s pleased with that

Max is short, some 155 cm and fat. She’s lost a little weight with a diet change to homecooked scheduled meals, but she’s still fat, and she’s completely fine with this and looks bomb as hell

35. What’s their guilty pleasure? What is their totally unguilty pleasure?

He doesn’t really feel guilty about the things he does for fun, doesn’t feel the need to. Though in the end cheating on his wife dipped from “guilty pleasure” to “complete douchebaggery”

He doesn’t have enough braincells to feel guilty, dude was a police officer corrupt as they can be once upon a time. Maybe drinking on the job is a bit of a guilty pleasure but hey, he’s got good tolerance and not enough booze in his flask to get him too messed up.

Buying new makeup and clothes can be a bit of a guilty pleasure, but she neeeeds them. Using them and making herself look glam is something she feels no guilt about though, yes she might look a lil over the top but so what? It’s her style and she likes it

36. What are they good at? What hobbies do they like? Can they sing?

Can design and build guns like the best of ‘em, it’s a hobby and a job, as well as testing the guns out at a firing range. Can’t sing at goddamn all

An excellent marksman and slick as hell, can talk himself out of pretty much any problem. Knows where to find a connection and how to utilize it to end up on top. On his free time he likes to play cards, hang out in a bar, snoop around casually, maybe find someone to share his bed for the night, who knows. Not a singer.

She’s got great style and impeccable makeup skills, somewhat artistic too but those are just some flower doodles. Enjoys making videos and makeup tutorials, cooking, hanging out with friends. Can hold a tune but mainly just hums.

37. Do they like to read? Are they a fast or slow reader? Do they like poetry? Fictional or non fiction?

He can pour over technical manuals, likes comics, longer novels get boring. A pretty fast reader though, has no interest in poetry.

A bit of a slow reader and prefers bigger text for his eyesight, has a hard time concentrating on longer text so he doesn’t really read books. Alternatively he does enjoy poetry and comics since there’s less to read.

Enjoys reading, usually fiction, crime novels and horror, sometimes romance. Enjoys poetry a lot, especially of the gothic kind.

38. What do they admire in others? What talents do they wish they had?

Admires tenacity and skill, never giving up despite struggles is inspiring. Wishes he could demand respect and earn it in a way people like Mhairi do, he feels like a bit of a little fish still (esp. compared to dad)

He can respect honesty, positivity and tenacity, even if it’s someone trying to catch him. Also appreciates patience because he knows he can be a bit of a mess. Being able to focus better would be nice.

Max appreciates honesty and open-mindedness, you can be blunt with your honesty, just don’t be mean, and be open to other views and facts than your own. She’s always looking to improve, if anything specific then just not being so hot-headed herself

39. Do they like letters? Or prefer emails/messaging?

Texts and emails are so much easier.

He won’t remember what he wrote on a letter so messages and emails work best

Loves an old-fashioned wax-sealed love letter as much as any dramatic hoe but obviously texts and emails work the best

40. Do they like energy drinks? Coffee? Sugary food? Or can they naturally stay awake and alert?

Too much soda and energy drinks, a caffeine fiend. Could probably stay up without if the weather is warm but still drinks his Red Bull

Mostly drinks alcohol or just water, he stays up long whiles with no help.

Likes her coffee, but mainly just a cup in the morning and an extravagant Starbucks drink during the day, maybe one in the evening. Might have something sweet during shifts at the bar, just for a little kick.

41. What’s their sexuality? What do they find attractive? Physically and mentally? What do they like/need in a relationship?

Hetero/demisexual, primarily an ass man, but a tight bod in general is a sight to see. Hair is nice to touch. Mentally likes tough women who know what they want and know to demand it, likes brains as much as butts. Needs affection and love and dedication, he’s serious about this shit

Bisexual, doesn’t really have a preference, maybe leans more towards thicc guys and gals, prefers a chubby belly over washboard abs. Mentally just be interesting, keep his attention, share views, not super into uptight nerdy scholar types. Needs attention, love and for the other one to take initiative for him to show love back, for now kinda casual about relationships because he tends to go too serious too quick and end up hurt

Bisexual, likes tough girls and cute boys, chubby people, stronk and soft, sparkly like she is, similar views and attitudes, not interested in super shy and quiet people who don’t like going out or don’t hype her up.

42. What are their goals? What would they sacrifice anything for? What is their secret ambition?

His main goal is to blow up beat Vim in the market, his feelings are hurt and feels like his old man’s time has passed, no familial feelings anymore after the stunt Vim pulled, now it’s just rivalry. Kinda sacrificed a relationship to have the family he wanted, too.

Right now he’s just seeing if this sticks, so far he’s enjoyed captaining the Vandal and maybe even dipping his toesies back into corrupting law enforcement… this time being the one corrupting, not the one corrupted

Her ambitions are to make the makeup channel a full-time job and quit bartending, can eventually do that and make bank from being an influencer while also being a mom.

43. Are they religious? What do they think of religion? What do they think of religious people? What do they think of non religious people?

Not religious really, just tiny remnants of the kind of voodoo-type religion most common in where he’s from. Biggest thing religion-wise are the beads he got from his mom he keeps in his pocket, it’s more sentimental than that he actually believes in higher powers. Has no opinion about believers or non-believers unless they try to tell him how to think in which case he gets pissed

His people are generally atheistic, not religious at all himself, kinda finds it odd. But it’s none of his business, just keep it to yourself thank you. Will listen to stories though.

Not particularly religious, wears some religious stuff as part of her style but doesn’t really follow anything herself. Keep it to yourself.

44. What is their favourite season? Type of weather? Are they good in the cold or the heat? What weather do they complain in the most?

Summer, he thrives in warm and humid. Active and happy during warm months. Hates the cold, gets drowsy, outside gets janky and eventually freezes entirely. Whines about cold.

Used to mild, medium weather, very dry, was baffled about rain and clouds. Appreciates the lack of dust outside his homeland. Summer tends to get hot, winter is too cold, not a fan of snow, likes rain. Likes fall.

Loves the fall, pumpkin spice, Halloween, spooky times. Manages heat well, hates sleet and snow but has good jackets to stay warm. Now if just her boots wouldn’t get so dirty.

45. How do other people see them? Is it similar to how they see themselves?

Depends greatly, he might be a whiny brat to some, a genius to some. He has been knocked down enough pegs to make him a bit humbler than he’d be otherwise, but he’s still an eager little man trying to become something great at any cost

He’s very much not welcome in his homeland, kind of an outsider everywhere else, his people aren’t so often seen. He’s just chilling and he has his talents, he’s a bit of an enigma to others, a horrible criminal to some and a disaster to his crew

Some may think she’s just a fat bitch, those are people she hasn’t allowed to bully her, others think she’s a role model. She’s a great friend and a mom, too.

46. Do they make a good first impression? Does their first impression reflect them accurately? How do they introduce themselves?

He’s a bit awkward but he’s that in general, got more gun skills than people skills, which is pretty noticeable. He’ll shake your hand and say his name and what ship he’s from.

There’s something off, the handshake is firm but he might just forget to actually say his name or what ship he captains/who he works for, in general he seems… capable? If a bit scatterbrained.

Shakes your hand, smiles, introduces herself, she immediately feels like a pleasant person.

47. How do they act in a formal occasion? What do they think of black tie wear? Do they enjoy fancy parties and love to chit chat or loathe the whole event?

Doesn’t feel at all home in fancier events, doesn’t like dressing up formally, even if nedians don’t do black ties. Avoids fancy chitchat and events and maybe just raids the snack bar and bails.

Pretty at home actually, doesn’t particularly like formal wear but he’s used to wearing it, slips out from one conversation and into another without internalizing any of it or adding anything of substance. Gets tipsy and eats a bunch, just wanders around, gets stuck staring at a curtain for half an hour,

Likes dressing up but prefers a bit more casual parties, like dinners, not as formal. Loves to talk and have a drink and compliment ladies on their clothes.

[manifestoonmoralmanlove]

Gormless Ch. 9 -  Maccon’s into violence, hypocrisy, raceplay, but worst of all progressive politics.

A well-meaning friend gave me a book series that is hilariously bad. The first book was Souless and my riffs were entitled brainless. This second book is entitled Changless and these riff are then gormless.

I mean to say I have entitled them gormless! Not that my riffs are dumb, and the effort I spend on them stupid since I’m the only one who enjoys them. HAHA!

The story is SUPPOSED TO be about how a badass lady wearing a rad-looking carriage dress hits baddies with her umbrella and bangs her hot werewolf husband.  In reality it’s mostly poor attempts at being witty, flirty, and superior.

For the last book check out the brainless tag.

If you want the TL;DR version but want to read these new riffs anyway?

This story is set in supernatural Victorian steampunk England.  Alexia is our NOT LIKE OTHER GIRLS protag.  She is a soulless, which means she’s able to negate the abilities of vampires and werewolves by touching them. She’s recently married a big oaf, named Lord Connel Maccon.  He’s the manchild in charge of the supernatural police with a zillion dollars and he’s totes super hot too ok.  Their relationship is mostly arguments about how Maccon can’t tell her fucking anything.  Alexia has also recently become head of ~Soulless affairs~ in Queen Victoria’s government.  She has a dumb friend named Ivy, a gay vampire friend named Akeldama, a family who’s evil because they do the same shit as her but while being blonde, and most importantly Alexia is better than everyone cause…cause.

Last time on Gormless:

There’s some mysterious force that’s turning the Vampires and werewolves into humans. Alexia is in charge of figuring out that deal, and she is doing a bad job at it.  They are at her husband’s old pack castle about it.  Are they hiding something?????

Chapter 9 – Maccon’s into violence, hypocrisy, raceplay, but worst of all progressive politics.

So off to dinner we go!  They talk about what a FRIGHTFUL sight it was that Alexia didn’t style and unfrizz her hair before going down to dinner with such dramatic terms that make me wanna gag. But I went from that to barfing myself inside out when I read the following line about Alexia’s frizzy hair:

“Lord Maccon adored it.  He thought she looked like some exotic gypsy and wondered if she might be amendable to donning gold earrings and dancing topless about their room in a loose red skirt…”

GOD DAMN AUTHOR!  We went from some poor choices but plausible deniability to straight up…

Like a lot of my racism complaints are subjective and nit-picky I will give you that.  But the author done goofed good and fucking proper with that line jesus fucking Christ.

GY*SIES IS A SLUR, AND ROMANI WOMEN ARE NOT ~EXOTIC~ SEXUAL OBJECTS! GOOOOOOOOOOOOO FUCK YOURSELF!

I could fume about that fucking egregious shit the rest of the day but let’s try to distract myself with the parts of this story that aren’t openly racist.

At dinner, LeFoux is talking to some nerd about nerd shit.  Ivy is trying to talk about fish to some dude even though both of them don’t know anything about fish.  There’s a bit of drama when Lady Kingair (aka Sidheag) allows Maccon to sit in the Alpha seat, which TO BE FAIR is kinda bullshit, but the drama dissipates with a harmless distraction.  There is a brief interaction between Alexia and Maccon on the subject of the Tunstell/Ivy drama.  Maccon says they’re a bad match and Alexia agrees DESPITE THE FACT SHE LEGIT TRIED TO HOOK UP THE TWO AT THE END OF THE LAST BOOK BUT THAT’S FINE! Maccon ends the conversation about this slipshod ship-fest by sighing out a perplexed…

“Women”

Maccon you’re literally agreeing with a woman right now!  Boy howdy am I getting increasingly sick of how Maccon uses that word. If a male partner of mine used that word (woman) the way Maccon uses it (as this bullshit signifier that #yesallwomen are so hard to understand and difficult to deal with) I would uppercut him in the fucking taint.

CAN YOU BE ANGRY ABOUT THE ACTUAL CONTENT OF THE STORY FAPS INSTEAD OF THESE THROW-AWAY LINES THAT YOU’RE OVERANALYZING!

BLATANT RACISM AND SEXISM AREN’T THROW-AWAY LINES, BUT YOU BET YOUR ASS I CAN BE MAD AT MORE STUFF! I AM ALWAYS HUNKERING TO ANGRY IT UP!

There’s a point where they call Alexia curse-breaker multiple times (cause she’s a soulless that can negate the powers of the supernatural.)  Ivy and Felicity have no idea what that means and don’t know Alexia is a soulless but nobody bothers to inform them.  I don’t know if this is going to be a conflict at some point or not.

Alexia then has to ~make a fuss~ by asking them about the humanization problem. They act like she is breaking some taboo, but honestly I don’t understand why.  They’re having a problem; it’s her and Maccon’s job to solve the problem, so they should ask about it so they can solve it right? Also these Scottish folks seem much more down to earth and don’t subscribe to the stuffy social mores of British society. So it’s dumb that they act as if Alexia is rudely asking why cousin Larry has two weeping pussies where his ears should be, while jabbing at them with a pencil, and making sexist jokes about it.

But she doesn’t ask questions that are going to be useful until a few pages into this conversation which means just in time for the author to avoid it with a distraction.  I have a feeling the author is going to do the same thing in this book that she did last book.  Started with a mystery, dances around it for the vast majority of the book without adding much to it, and just ¾ the way in the book SUDDENLY SHIT HITS THE FAN ALL AT ONCE AND IT’S REAL DUMB!

So it’s now after dinner and the men and women are separated to chit-chat. Alexia starts quizzing Lady Kingair. Lady Kingair says she wishes she could be a full blooded werewolf.  The only werewolf within a zillion miles who is powerful enough to turn someone into a werewolf is Lord Maccon, cause of course it is.    But Maccon doesn’t want to try to turn her because she’s his last heir and women very rarely survive the transformation.  

Which like, there’s no reason so far why the werewolf club has to be vast majority male.  No ALL MEN orgies, and no SINCE YOU’RE THE ONLY GIRL WE’VE SEEN IN 80 YEARS ALL OUR ERECTIONS POINT TO YOU FEMALE PROTAG!  Perhaps there is some plot point later on.  But honestly? I suspect it comes down to the bias that simply werewolfism is considered a male phenomenon. You can read all sorts of analyses of this but basically it comes down to that men are supposed to have a violent, animalistic nature that they try to suppress.  But women aren’t supposed to be angry, powerful, uncontrollable, or like worst of all HAIRY!  So I don’t want them even as no-name background characters yuck!

Also, oddly enough, last book they said that werewolves sought out actors, and arty types cause they seemed more likely to survive the transformation. Creativity is tied to ~extra soul~ or whatever.  So I want to know why all these werewolves are dim-witted, gruff, military philistines instead of sweet, sensitive, arty twinks, smooching each other?  Is it cause her type is gruff meathead and like an idiot she outright contradicted her own story for no particular reason?

SEEMS SO! GOD I WANT A CASTLE FULL OF HAIRY BESTIAL WOMEN AND/OR CUTE SENSITIVE TWINKS! IS THAT SO MUCH TO ASK FOR?

Nothing else really comes out of the conversation with Lady Sidhaeg Kingair and thankfully we’re saved from that conversation by the sounds of the men folk fighting.

Maccon is fighting with the current beta.  Maccon wins, cause of course he does.  They both grumble bitterly at each other for BETRAYAL and nothing is revealed. Like I am glad there was action, but this was so limp and tepid.  It could have easily been dramatic and they should have revealed something, especially considering they dump the whole story at the end of this chapter.

So Alexia takes him upstairs for fade to black SEX, cause of course she does. Like I won’t kink-shame much, but getting all hot that your husband beat up another dude who is clearly weaker than him for no real reason is bogus yo. A thousand kink-shames upon you.

Afterwards Maccon FINALLY fucking explains something.  He says the reason why he left the Kingair pack is because everybody in the pack was planning to kill the queen of England and didn’t tell him about it.  They’re Scottish and Supernaturals and APPARENTLY the crown hates both of those things.  She appoints Scottish and Supernatural people to the highest places on her court and we have not seen any oppression but just trust us okay.  They kept it from Maccon, because Maccon is a ~progressive~ and thought killing the queen would be a bad idea.  He believes this because the Queen is giving Supernaturals more rights and that if they kill her that it would make Supernaturals look real bad and innocent Supernaturals would be targeted.

That’s a reasonable fear, and honestly since we’re supposed to be on Maccon’s side she doesn’t really try to explain the other side.  Like was it supposed to be a military Coup so that werewolves would be in charge of Britain, since the military is made up of werewolves? Cause that’s honestly pretty fucking interesting.  I know the author says there are a lot more humans than werewolves…but I don’t know why they would fear much of a backlash if they all have superpowers, lots of the money, and are the ENTIRE military.  The fucking Spartans quelled every slave uprising even though slaves vastly outnumbered their military cause their military was trained as hell. Those masc 4 macs thug bros weren’t even able to turn their faces into dog faces.

Also Maccon’s feelings were really hurt when they were going to kill the queen with poison.

“Poison is for bitches amirite?” Maccon laughs misogynistically.  Alexia chuckled in kind and sprinkled something in Maccon’s 5th glass of Scotch.  As he dies in agony Alexia licks her fingertips in triumph. Oops they still had poison on them and she dies.  LeFoux travels to reality and she has the good sex with me. The End!

Okay that exchange didn’t happen, I just wish it did.

So anyway due to the ~betrayal~ Maccon left his pack and it really fucked his pack a big one because nobody was powerful enough to turn other people into werewolves so their pack couldn’t grow and outsiders were disinterested in serving them.  (BTW humans who serve werewolf packs in exchange for being turned into werewolves are called Clavigers in this book.) But this was their punishment for betraying him.  Not punishment for the high treason of attempting to murder a queen and thus throwing the entire country into violent chaos which could have resulted in millions of deaths. The focus for the punishment is highlighted as Maccon’s feelings were hurt.

I have a million questions about this situation but I can forgive the author for not going into more detail. This is a fluff story and doesn’t need to be bogged down with politics.  I can’t help but be  frustrated because the author doesn’t give anything of substance, so when something mildly interesting happens I want to latch onto it but it’s just plywood stuck to a cliff with bubblegum, it ain’t gonna hold my weight.

Thus I plummet back into the pit of frivolousness, hoping futilely there maybe something enjoyable I can grab in order to save my sanity from this stack of bullshit.

PS – I’m way into the fact that the thing they did reveal is not relevant to the actual conflict at the center of this book.

LOVE THAT!

PPS – The fight should have had the Beta forcefully removed from the fight. That he thrashes against another werewolf about how ineffectual Maccon is.  That he has all sorts of strength, power, and money but he’s just a complacent lapdog.  Since he has been dubbed ‘one of the good ones’ he’ll let the less fortunate ones of his race rot while he nibbles pheasant in his castle.  Maccon fires back how hypocritical it is to say you want what’s best for werewolves/Scottish folks while picking fights and putting the less fortunate on the line.  That he’s proving to the kingdom that werewolves are valuable by being a good example and working within the power structure to help his own kind. Afterwards Maccon goes back to his room physically and emotionally exhausted, and cuddles with his wife while he explains the backstory. He cries over his guilt of hurting his pack, and wonders if what he is doing is the right thing.

Problem with that is it doesn’t make the conflict easy to understand and cut and dry.  It also makes Maccon emotionally vulnerable…which like I’M INTO but seems as if it’s not the author or this set of reader’s fetish.

Say something nice Faps:

After pulling teeth for a book and a half we learn something about Maccon.  And it’s actually potentially interesting.

Ivy’s back and forth about her lack of knowledge about fish was genuinely cute and funny.

[unicorn-poop]

Part 2

MARVUS: Ok We’re here!

LIMEBLOOD: Yay!

JADEBLOOD: Oh Look Tagora Is Here

GALEKH: What-

TAGORA: Hey asshole what are you doing here with MY girlfriend?

GALEKH: I am here because Marvus has invited us. We didn’t expect to see you here. Why are you here with Tyzias?

TYZIAS: We’re here just to take a break. Nothing romantic or anything. Disgusting if you assumed that

TAGORA: You better have not gotten your filthy hands on my matesprite

GALEKH: No worries twink I didn’t put my huge hands on her

JADEBLOOD: He Kissed My Hand And What Does Twink Mean

TAGORA: UH I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!

MARVUS: Uh we have no time for this. Find a new Jadeblood to Lust over, loser

And so with that the gang move away and find a table. Tagora is still enraged.

GALEKH: So darling what are you going to get?

JADEBLOOD: I Want Blood.

GALEKH: Of course. How can I forget. You are a rainbow drinker. What kind of blood. I never tasted blood and don’t plan on it but I’d assume Burgundy would taste like....apples? Bronze would probably be chocolate. Gold? Lemon?

JADEBLOOD: Give me your neck. I like Indigo Blood

MARVUS: Oh look at that. Must suck having a rainbow drinker in a quadrant

LIMEBLOOD: Oh it does

MARVUS: You’ve been in a quadrant with one before?

LIMEBLOOD: Nope *Starts glowing*

JADEBLOOD: Oh~

GALEKH: WOW. How is that possible? I thought this was only a thing for rare green bloods?

MARVUS: Well....it’s not confirmed if it’s only a thing for rare green bloods. Save your hunger for later...you know....when we’re alone.....

GALEKH: Wow you guys already go at it?

MARVUS: No I’m saving that for our Troll wedding night.

GALEKH: Oh that’s what I’m doing. It’s gonna he a special night for you

JADEBLOOD: Wait, What? *Licks lips*

TAGORA: UH how can this happen? He SUCKS a being Heterosexual

TYZIAS: We Trolls are all Bisexual unless stated otherwise. Do you mean he just sucks with the opposite gender? Because he was fine when we were together before I found Stelsa

TAGORA: WAIT! You TWO dated?

(There was a long ass pause)

TAGORA:.....WELL?

TYZIAS: Yes. I fell for him okay but now I’m with Stelsa and we’re happy together. He moved on anyways.

TAGORA: You got a shit taste in men

TYZIAS: You got shit taste in women!

TAGORA: (Gasps) How dare you?

TYZIAS: Look over there. Do you see that. Another rainbow drinker. Why don’t you go talk to him.

TAGORA: He’s an ass though! He won’t drink from me! And he called ME ugly

TYZIAS: Lol.

TAGORA: He also made my pants drop for a prank exposing my-

TYZIAS: Enough! This is hilarious 😂.

3 hours pass by

MARVUS: Well That was nice

LIMEBLOOD: Yep

JADEBLOOD: Can I Have Your Number?

LIMEBLOOD: Sure

GALEKH: Come over to my hive. I have great news for everyone.

MARVUS: Ok I’ll be there and so will she

JADEBLOOD: 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

()

KARKAT: WHY ARE WE EVEN HERE?

KANAYA: I Am Not Sure. I Bet It Is A Special Announcement

FEFERI: T)(is looks like it’s going to be fun

EQUIUS: D—> Yes it does

BRONYA: What does Galekh have to announce?

LYNERA: Who knows. I think finally him and Tagora are going to finally get together like in a red quadrant

ELWURD: Agree! It’s about time

TAGORA: Uh why did that huge dick invite me?

TYZIAS: I dunno

GALEKH: Greeting everybody. You are here today because I have something special to announce. I have been together with a very special someone for a while. I really love them very much. MSPA Reader has told me about-

KARKAT: OH GET ON WITH IT ASSHOLE! TELL US WHY WE’RE HERE!

GALEKH:.......I am getting married to my matesprite

(he grabs his Jadeblood matesprite and kisses her. She starts glowing)

TAGORA: 🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬

EQUIUS: D—> That is not very good language for a tealblood.

FEFERI: I’m so -EXCIT-ED

LANQUE: Um wtf he’s getting married to my ex....

KARAKO: HONK HONK HONK

ELWURD: Yuck! We’ve just been cucked.

MALLEK: My man getting married to any enemies ex. Perfect revenge.

LIMEBLOOD: Now when are you going to marry me?

MARVUS: Uh.....

NEPETA: My Galekh♥️Mallek♥️Tagora shipping days are ofur :,(

TEREZI: NOT R3ALLY

SOLLUX: Ew.

KANAYA: I’m going To Feel Sorry For Her On Their Wedding Night

TAVROS: uH WHAT HAPPENS?

ROSE: Uh you don’t want to know.

CHAHUT: This was a wasTe of my Time

AMISIA: Tell me abouut it

TAGORA: 🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬

TYZIAS: Ok We’re gonna leave

[rigginsstreet]

In the spirit of distracting you: Do you think Billy and Steve would have turned out different if they were girls? Like would Neil have treated Billy different? Would Steve be all sweet and virginal? Who knows!! Only you can provide us with the tea (obvs not saying for you to answer this now just thought I’d put something in your ask box that wasn’t Fredsythe for when you’re ready!!)

im actually in like a decent mood right now so lemme answer this before i spiral again

fem!harringrove was a thing for a while in the fandom. i never really got fully into it bc my shipping habits generally start with “what two actors do i wanna see hook up” and the rest falls into place later so genderbent isnt really my schtick but ANYWAY

i think billy wouldve stayed the same, personality wise, but i think peoples perception of ... her?... would be different. like, billy, being a dude, gets away with a lot of shit from his peers (outside of steve nancy and jonathan). im talking about tommy and carol and vicky and presumably the rest of the students at hawkins high)

hes the new kid, hes hot, got an ass that wont quit, very alpha.... everyone else gravitated towards him even though hes an asshole and a bully.

you put that personality into a female character? its gonna go very different. i guarantee you none of the girls at hawkins would be her friend, theyd all judge her for being ~slutty~ (cuz fem!billy - billie, if you will- would absolutely still have her titties out 24/7 and allegedly be hooking up with dudes left and right even though we never actually see any of this taken place because shes gaaaayyyyyy) and the dudes would just see her as a piece of meat which is fine with billie cuz shes not exactly interested in any of their opinions anyway. 

now here’s where we get into neil territory. i still see neil being an abusive dick. i can see an argument for whether or not he’d still be physical with her, but he’d definitely be calling her names. if he called billy a faggot he’d call billie a dyke without hesitation. theyd still have a terrible relationship. 

steve (stevie)’s a complicated one for me. i could see her being the head cheerleader, the most popular girl in school, kind of a bitch for the sake of appearances but doing nice things for her friends on the sly. 

i think theres an element with steves character that because maybe hes an only child, the only son, good looking, wealthy, hes expected to keep up a certain appearance. i can see that translating over if that character was female, but i can also see stevie still being popular and well liked without having to have the negative traits we saw from steve in season 1. either way she’d still be soft. i mean... joe keery has a lot of feminine features esp his season 1 twink ass self like its not hard to picture a fem!steve lmao just a... doe eyed bambi of a character. i’ll tell you what, tho... stevie being a beast with a nail bat would be a helluva reveal compared to steve with a bat. like thats a Visual™ right there

[thunclerpuff]

Top 5 Thor Moments 💫

okAY LET’S GO

these are not in a particular order, and probably not even peak 5, but? thor himself is best thor moments at all times?

edit: this is just me rambling about thor. these are not moments. this is not a top 5. it degenerated real quick. enjoy anyway.

A. thor odinson: a warrior doormat

meaning: the entirety of the fight against the metal power ranger in thor 1. him zapping around helping people and keeping friends (COUGH SIF) from yeeting themselves at the enemy and dieing in the process, all while being all smiley and reassuring, leading to “brother, please step on me i’m sorry i wasn’t there to welcome people in you chambers :(”. just. so good? too good?

B. every time he outsmarts someone because they’re intimidated by his good looks and his charms so they just go ahahaha but he dumb :/ GUESS WHAT BITCH HE NOT

“didn’t see that coming, did ya?” vs valkyrie, thor 1:0 offenders

“never one for sentiment“ “easier to let it burn :)“ “i agree :D :D :D :D” thor 2:0 offenders

fucking with his brother in the elevator and loki going AAAAAAAAHHHH inside thus deciding (FIGHT ME ON THIS) “you want me to stay here? guess what bitch you’re staying here too! as ransom! ;)” AND GUESS WHAT BITCH THOR KNOWS YOU TOO WELL AND HE GREW A BACKBONE thor 15:0 offenders

HIM DEFENESTRATING LOKI FROM THE SHIP IN TDW AND SLAMMING THE TWINK ON A BOAT thor 99:0 offenders

C. THE BRIDGE

immigrant song intensifies

so does my worship

this does include the talk with odin because honey finally gets to talk to his dad without his dad shouting or only saying the last word of an entire discussion he had with himself never letting anybody else on in it

C2. BRING ME THANOS

if thanos had been there to witness that entrance he would have thrown himself at thor and that’s how infinity war would have ended

D. SOMETHING SOFT :D

litterally every soft squishy moments. him kissing hands. him brhoeing with sif. the snake story. all the number and science and stuff. tucking jane’s blanket on te rooftop. “space is fine.” he’s a friend from work!. the sun’s getting real low. “loooki”. the :D. panicking over mjolnir moving a tiny bit because the bitch was drunk too from all the fumes of the party. sweet rabbit.

you geT THE DRIFT. everytime he’s on screen and make you go either awww or :D is a peak thor moment.

E. EVERY TIME HE’S COCKY AS SHIT AND DELIVERS AFTERWARDS

“i’ve fought bigger” ;) to wrestling in the mud and winning with a fucking flyiNG KICK WHO DOES THAT

“i accept your surrender” ;) ;) YOU IN FOR A ONE HIT KO BITCH HE HAD COME TO THE FIGHT OVERLEVELLED AND HE KNEW THAT. also: “anyone else??“ ;) ;) fuck me now

that stupid mouth wipe when the hulk hits him in the avengers and he goes all hot and bothered because? he can punch stuff? hammer things? FIGHTYPUFF TO THE EXTREME

bonus: my man slamming tin cans all around and ultron sweeping in “THOR YOU’RE BOTHERING ME” bitch yes YOU BET HE IS