#but also they do one small gay thing and suddenly we’re absolutely devastated

[ufo-driver]

Those cowards

They can scroll through Twitter and react to the cute little memes

But they’d never dare to react to the hellscape that is tumblr. They’d never go into the trenches and display the things we say! They may lurk and react in private, but their cowardice prevents them from posting it online.

They sicken me. They cannot handle our power.

[yukipri]

Marco’s Bauble Part 4 - a One Piece Mermaid AU Text Story

Next part of Marco’s Bauble! Was posted in advance on Patreon ^ ^

In which the Whitebeards gossip

Contains mention of Marco x Luffy.

Continues off of, and should be read after:

👒🐟Marco’s Bauble Part 1

👒🐟Marco’s Bauble Part 2

👒🐟Marco’s Bauble Part 3

~~

Namur values his crew's privacy. And given that he doubts he was even supposed to see Marco's secret, he absolutely can't disclose it to anyone.

Which is why he's snuck into Izo's room at ass o'clock in the morning, when everyone but the morning shift is asleep, but Izo's awake because he takes a few hours doing his hair and makeup.

"This had better be good, I don't usually enjoy an audience before I'm presentable," Izo says.

Namur doesn't really get what's unpresentable about Izo now. Sure he looks different, with his ridiculously long hair still loose and spilling to his waist, pulled back from his face with a seemingly simple band that Namur saw Izo drop a small fortune for. Izo's plucking up various bottles of liquid lined up on his vanity, methodically shaking a few measured drops into his palm before patting them into his face. Namur doesn't see any difference before and after the drops are applied.

"It's...it's not my secret to tell, but no one else seems to know, and I need to talk to someone, it's too big for just me," Namur says, reluctantly. "But you can't tell anyone, Izo, I mean it."

Izo just hums in response, and Namur sweats. He seems to be doing a lot of that these days. Maybe he needs to take a few days to just swim, being above sea level for too long can be stressful for fishmen.

Because this is already seeming like an increasingly bad idea. Izo isn't known for being particularly good at keeping secrets; if anything, he's a known gossip. That being said, he's also one of the best listeners aboard the Moby (it's how he gets his info), and more importantly, is the third best person to go to for good, thoughtful advice.

The best person to go to for advice is, of course, Pops, but Namur wilts at the mere thought because it really, really isn't his place to talk to Pops about this without Marco's consent. And unfortunately, the close second for Best Person to Go to For Advice is none other than Marco himself, everyone's Big Brother and caring Mother Hen Supreme.

And, well. It's not like Namur can go to Marco to talk about Marco.

"Well, I'm waiting," Izo says, and apparently he'd gone through his entire lineup of six little bottles of mysterious liquids, and is now blotting some paste onto his skin with a weird brush-like contraption. Namur squints, but can barely see any difference between the areas with the paste and without.

"Please don't tell anyone, unless they already know," Namur stresses again, praying.

"Yes, yes." Izo continues blotting.

"Marco proposed to someone."

Izo continues blotting.

Namur sweats.

Izo's hand gradually slows, and Namur realizes he's finished covering his entire face. Namur sees zero difference.

"Just so we're clear," Izo says, as he finally turns to face Namur. "When you say 'Marco,' we're talking about the fire chicken one, and when you say 'propose,' we're talking about the marriage, weddings, and babies type?"

"Babies?!"

No, no, that actually hadn't crossed Namur's mind, but it's there now, and he knows logically that devil fruits don't work like that, but his mind is suddenly filled with the image of an entire school? flock? of tiny colorful winged merbabies, and he's oh, oh NO they're so cu--

"Namur! Focus, please!"

Namur blinks. He doesn't know when it happened, but one of Izo's eyebrows is more defined than the other now.

"Yeah, that Marco," he confirms. "And I, I don't know about...the last thing, but yeah, if successful, usually the kind that results in marriage type."

Izo's oddly calm, and is facing his mirror again. He frowns momentarily, but then smooths his expression and begins applying his other eyebrow. Namur realizes that Izo's able to keep his face so smooth because he wants to draw on his face evenly, and that's actually quite impressive. Though, he has no idea why Izo needs more eyebrows, when he already has perfectly normal ones growing on his face.

"Who's the boy who stole the stupid pineapple's heart, it must be someone we know," Izo says, voice light.

Namur wasn't exactly planning on disclosing this much, he'd just wanted someone else to help him think of how best to support their brother's potentially upcoming union, but Izo's definitely not taking no for an answer, and that's a fight he knows he can't win.

"It's Ace's little brother, the one Thatch went to go fetch," he says reluctantly. "And even though she's his 'little brother,' she's apparently a girl, and a mermaid."

There's a clatter, and Izo curses. Namur tries to peer at Izo's face in the mirror, and notices a weird black blob by his eye that Izo's now trying to delicately smudge off. It wouldn't have been there in the first place if Izo hadn't been trying to poke himself in the eye with the weird brush thing. Namur really doesn't get this makeup business.

"You're telling me," Izo growls, and Namur flinches at the irritation, though he gets the feeling it's directed mostly at the eye blob. "That Marco's straight? I could have sworn he was gay!"

Namur blinks at Izo.

Izo blinks at Namur through the mirror. The eye blob makes his face look slightly crooked.

"Oh, right," Izo mutters, picking up his brush with face distorting ink again. "I thought Marco only liked guys like that, so it surprised me that he likes a girl. Maybe he's bi. Don't worry about it, it's a dumb human thing."

"Oh," Namur says, and yeah, he's heard vaguely about humans being weirdly obsessed with only liking a specific gender or two. It's a very foreign concept that Namur doesn't really get because it doesn't exist on Fishman Island, and romance stuff rarely comes up on the Moby, shockingly enough, or at least in front of Namur. But he's glad Izo doesn't seem too upset, because that would upset Namur. Namur's never met Ace's little brother, but he imagines she'd look so very charming next to Marco, given how in love Marco looked when he was sending off his proposal. He wants to root for them.

"Although, hm, does Ace know? I doubt he'd be very happy about Marco sweeping his dearest little brother off her feet, er, fins," Izo says, seemingly more relaxed now that his face distorting paint is cooperating. His face is now even, although his eyes actually do look different now, more like the Izo Namur usually sees. It's fascinating.

"I don't know," Namur confesses, and he's suddenly feeling very glum at the thought of their little fire cracker baby brother not being happy. Even though Ace didn't formally join, he's still their littlest brother, and Namur's very fond of him, and has honestly lost track of the number of times he's dived into the sea to fetch the reckless kid. He was honestly devastated when Ace said he was leaving. It's alright now, now that Namur knows it was just to bring home Marco's future bride, but he hopes Ace will be supportive too.

"And how did you know he was proposing?"

At this point, what does it matter what else Namur shares? "Well..."

By the time Namur's done answering all of Izo's questions on Fishman Island courtship and Marco's respectful application of it, Izo's done with his face.

"Well, that was certainly a fascinating talk," Izo says with lips the color of a raw fish's innards. "Now I'll have to kick you out before I do my hair. At least I finished my face."

Namur knows he's been excused. "Thank you for your time. Also, it looks very nice, your face," he says politely as he gets up. It seems awkward not to comment on it, after having watched Izo work so hard on it for the past half hour. "Although it looked nice before too. I like the eye paint."

Izo pauses contemplatively, then nods. "That's an acceptable compliment. Thank you. Now, shoo."

~~

"So, who's the wedding for?"

Izo jolts as Haruta settles his tray on the other side of the table.

"What wedding?"

"Don't play dumb. You're planning a wedding. I noticed some of our books were moved in the library, and you were the only one who was in there before me. You were looking up Grand Line marriage traditions, and going through shitty wedding magazines that no one's touched in a decade," Haruta rattles off as he stirs his soup, and Izo inwardly curses.

He thought he'd placed them all back where he'd found them, but alas, apparently nothing gets by Haruta's observation skills, and his talent for butting into business that has nothing to do with him.

"And given the selections, I'd say it's not for you." Haruta continues, as though he knows Izo's tastes by heart and sadly, he probably does, and not just Izo's but the whole crew's. "So someone's getting married, or they're thinking about it, and you're planning. I want to know who."

"You're a nosey little shit," Izo says, because he knows there's really no point in denying it to Haruta without tangible evidence, which he lacks. He's also too tired to deal with this shit, because he did his hair in a hurry in order to make it to the library before everyone woke up, which means it's slightly less perfect than usual. And being anything less than perfect is a truly exhausting business.

"Mm-hmm," Haruta says, and momentarily seems distracted by his plate. There's a tiny, almost imperceptible frown on his lips, and Izo only recognizes it because he'd had the same thought.

The food's by no means bad, and they have many fine cooks on the Moby. It's just, it's a little different, without Thatch's personal touch. Izo hates that their brother's temporary absence is so tangible. Damn him for going on his little vacation.

They continue their meal in silence, and Izo hopes that Haruta's forgotten, his mind having moved on to terrorizing other innocent brothers. Izo thinks he might be able to get away, when Haruta gets up right alongside Izo to return his tray.

"So who is it?" he repeats, as though they hadn't just sat in thirty minutes of silence, and Izo wants to tear out Haruta's hair in frustration, because Izo would never tear out his own hair for any reason.

"It's none of your business, don't you have work to do?"

"My work is knowing stuff. Tell me."

"This isn't something you need to know. That's what I'm telling you."

"Nice try. Lemme guess. Is it Marco?"

Haruta laughs at his own joke, and promptly walks into Izo's back. Izo tries to get over his momentary freeze, but the damage is done.

"Holy shit, it's MARCO?!"

"What happened to Marco?" Vista has the absolute worst timing in entering the cafeteria, because he's standing directly in front of them. He already has his sword sheaths removed from his belt, no doubt so he can polish them in a corner after he's done eating, as is his usual ritual.

Haruta's eyes are blown wide, and Izo wants to stop him but no one can out-talk Haruta when he wants to talk, so it's like watching a cannonball hurtling towards an inevitable collision.

"Marco's getting married."

Vista never drops his swords.

Vista's swords clatter to the ground.

And now everyone inside the cafeteria, and those in the line forming outside behind Vista, all stop to stare.

~~

~~

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed!

And as always, comments/reblogs/tags always immensely appreciated!!! People sharing their thoughts with me motivates me to write so much more, and update more frequently, so thank you so much for everyone who’s so kindly done so in the past!! ;A;

(The next part’s already up on Patreon if anyone wants to read in advance <3)

❀ ❀ Send YukiPri an Ask! ❀ ❀

Read the next part: Marco’s Bauble, Part 5

~This ask has been added to the Mermaid AU Text Headcanons Compilation post~

[doof-doofblog]

"I Think You're My Dad!"

Monday 5th October 2020

Good evening everyone! I hope you've all had an enjoyable weekend! I'm so happy to be back posting about a fresh new week on the Square. I'm not going to waste any of your time, let's just get right to it shall we? The episode starts this evening with Linda, obviously reeling from the events the night before. But what is she more guilty about, kissing Max or having a gulp of alcohol?! Mick and Tina join her in the living room, Tina also appears to reeling from the night before. I love the way she comes in complaining about how Frankie has been giving her the eyes all week, end up rejecting her as soon as she makes a move - and of course while Tina is talking about this, the only thing Linda has to say is "Just because you enjoy someone's company doesn't mean you need to stick your tongue down their throat!" - she's obviously speaking about herself and Max there! I love that, how it links with both Linda's situation and Tina's situation, it's brilliant! As Linda leaves the room, she suggests cooking a meal for both her a Mick that night. The next section, Tina is trying to understand why Frankie would give her the cold shoulder, as she's discussing it to Mick, he is - as nicely as possible, trying to persuade Tina to stay away, but Tina takes the conversation completely the wrong way and thinks that Mick is suggesting that Frankie is just shy, Tina then comes to the conclusion that Frankie absolutely fancies her! Is this still going to end in heartbreak for Tina?

At the Atkins household, Mac is trying to wake his Father up. We can see from the state of the room that Gray has been looking through some paper work, is it about Chantelle or could it in fact be revolving around Whitney's upcoming trial? The boy is trying to wake his Dad up, as he is absolutely flat out on the bedroom floor! Something tells me that Gray isn't coping, isn't coping under the pressure of trying to hide the fact that he murdered his wife? The fact the he has Whitney's trail coming up soon? Or is he just simply still grieving for his wife as regretting his huge mistake? As his son shouts at him to wake him, his phone begins to ring ... from what I can make out, the paperwork spread out on the bed, definitely has something to do with Whitney's trial!

At the Panesar's, Suki and Ash are discussing both Kheerat and Vinny. As Suki enters the room she is carrying a basket of dirty laundry. She asks her daughter whether she has seen her brother, Ash informs her that he didn't come back to the house until the early hours of the morning. Kheerat is still devastated about Chantelle, he's still grieving for the woman he grew to love. As Suki is saying that Kheerat needs to move on, (of course she's such a disheartening woman) - she finds Jag's jeans with a blood stain on the bottom, Martin's blood. You can she is absolutely livid, she frets that what if the police had searched the flat and found his stained jeans, the family could've been in huge trouble. Ash tells her not to worry, but I think deep down, Suki is thinking about teaching her son a lesson. As this is happening, Jags is at the restaurant with Habiba, she is praising him of how proud she is of him finally standing up to his Mum, as she is complimenting her boyfriend, Iqra sees them from a distance, it's clear to her that they have been dating, she's glad to see her sister looking happy, she suggests to them to finally come out and make their relationship public, much to Jag's surprise, Habiba agrees and sets a time to tell Jags' family.

At the Mitchell household, it looks as if Phil is running past Callum some things he wants him to check out at the police station, does he want to know how much the police have on him? No matter how small it may be! As Callum agrees, Ben enters the room, to which Phil responds to leaving the room. Ben knows that his Dad his boyfriend to do something. Callum reveals that actually he wants him to check all the files of Raymond's adoptive family, clearly this is going to be Phil's way of getting all the information that he needs to set up a case for maybe fighting for custody? Ben's concern is Callum could lose his job if he keeps helping his Dad, but he reassures his boyfriend that everything will be under control.

Meanwhile, at the Prince Albert, Tina is finally catching up with Frankie. She informs her of how great and successful her Drag Bingo night was! At first the conversation between them both seems friendly, they're both smiling and laughing. It's only when Tina turns to conversation around and mentions her advances the night before, Frankie starts to go cold, Tina tries to reassure her that it's okay to be shy, she in fact finds it really cute. Frankie stands her ground and insists that she's not shy, something is possibly telling me that Frankie isn't really gay? Or maybe she is but yet knows she can't get too close to Tina? I'm unsure. As soon as Tina mentions the photos that Frankie has taken of her and her family, Tina plays - thinking it's because she has a crush on her and reaches for the camera on the side of the bar. As she does so, Frankie lunges towards it at the same time and the camera ends up falling off the bar counter and smashes. Frankie is left devastated as Tina is more than apologetic.

Whilst this is happening, Max finds Linda in the laundrette, you can sense the awkwardness between them. Linda is clearly not wanting to be anywhere near Max right now, as Mick mentioned earlier in the soap, she was meant to be meeting up with Max and children so they could have a little play-date. As Max questions where she had been, Linda shrugs it off and uses the excuse of taking Ollie to school instead. This seems like a reasonable explanation, Max tries to apologise, insisting that what happened between them last night, he doesn't want to affect the children's friendship and play-dates. Linda assures him that the children will still have their time to play together, as he goes to leave the building, a tiny little voice emerges from the back, calling for his Mummy, we see the tiny silhouette of little Ollie. Max turns gets the message instantly as he looks at Linda, with that, he leaves.  

Then at the Minute Mart, Suki and Vinny are discussing a message that Jags has sent them all, meeting at the Vic to show them something and begging them to not be angry. Vinny tries to assure his Mother that it'll be an apology for the way he behaved the night before. Suddenly, a Detective enters the shop, as they both clap eyes on him, Suki signals for Vinny to leave the room as she speaks with the Detective. It appears that due to no one coming forward or them not being able to find any form of finger-prints or DNA as to who attacked Martin Fowler and who broke into the shop, they will be closing the case and moving on to other things. Of course this is the news Suki has been waiting for! This must surely mean that Vinny is in the clear?! She puts on a front to the Detective and as she plays victim, but truthfully she'll be as pleased as punch!

The next scene, we're at Ruby's club where Gray is meeting his colleague, Laura. We learn from this meeting two things. One - Whitney's day in court is coming up, and two Chantelle's funeral is tomorrow! Gray is insistent that he is wanting to come to court to fight for Whitney, I guess you could say that he begs his colleague to let him take on Whitney's case. It's true that he's been doing everything he can to win Whitney's case and to stop her going to prison, he has been working so so hard, but Laura worries that he might not be in the right frame of mind, considering he's just lost his wife. But Gray is adamant, he makes the point that he has the rest of his life to grieve for Chantelle, if she'll just let him do this for Whitney. What do you think? I'm not sure what to think of this one, I could be completely wrong, but I think with all the stress and pressure that Gray is under right now, plus I guess you could say he is grieving to - I think he could potentially ruin Whitney's case and balls it all up! That's just my guess, but who knows what's going to happen? Will he be able to pull it off and help Whitney?!

Back at the Prince Albert, Tina is informing Mick about her encounter with Frankie. She tells him everything, on how she's feeling guilty and embarrassed for making a move on the poor girl, to then accidently causing her to smash her camera. Mick tells his sister again that it might be best if she was to stay away, but Tina goes on to mention to Mick the similarities between Frankie and the Carter family. Mainly Ollie, she mentions to him that Frankie supposedly had a younger brother who was Ollie's age, who was also autistic, as Mick is taking in all this information, I think he's come to realise there is something more dodgy about Frankie than he first realised. What is she playing at? What is her game and what does she want with the Carter family? As Mick is bringing together his thoughts about Frankie, Linda calls him, asking him to come an pick his son up. Little do we know that as she hangs up the phone, Frankie has appeared at the laundrette. Ollie is wanting to go to the park, so Frankie offers to take him, much to Linda's surprise. As a precaution, Linda asks her son if he feels comfortable going to the park with her, the little boy nods and Linda agrees to let Frankie take him. Is she making a big mistake? What is Mick going to think when he finds out? As this storyline goes on, I'm really intrigued to see what happens - I can't wait for Frankie's big reveal!

At the Vic, Habiba can be seen looking pretty nervous for what is about to happen. Vinny, Ash and Suki are waiting for Jags to turn up, they're speculating what Jag's news could be. As Suki makes herself comfortable, Jags enters the bar and approaches his family, he announces "I'd like to introduce my girlfriend!" he looks over and Habiba approaches them from the other end of the bar. Ash and Vinny are clearly in shock, Vinny - more disbelief! Ash's response is that her girlfriend, Habiba's sister, Iqra never mentioned anything to her. Habiba is shy and polite as she greets Suki with a cupcake. Suki looks at her up and down, asks the question whether they are serious about each other and that's when Jags and Habiba admit that they do in fact love each other. Everyone is visibly happy for the couple, all except Suki! We can see the glare in her eyes, but once again, she puts on a front and welcomes Habiba to the family. She insists that all that matters to her is her children's happiness, but as she leaves the Vic, we can see that she is less than impressed and chucks her cupcake in the bin!

Back at the Prince Albert, Mick sees Linda approaching, he notices that Ollie isn't with her. He asks whether Max has taken him to the park, but Linda then reveals that he's actually with Frankie. Mick's face drops! Of course, Linda can't understand why Mick is so concerned, she tells him that Frankie is good and she knows about autistic children, but that doesn't stop Mick in his tracks as he dashed off to collect his son. Meanwhile, Callum is shining Lexi's tap shoes all ready for her dance grading. Ben is surprised to his boyfriend at home, asking whether he should be working. Callum assures him that he wouldn't miss Lexi's dance for the world, he'll go to the police station tomorrow instead. He then goes on to explain to his boyfriend that, just because he's helping Phil out now and again, it doesn't mean that things have to change between them. He reveals that the only reason he's helping Phil out, is for Ben alone. As Ben goes to help his daughter find her dress, Callum gets a phone call - from what we can make out, the police station. It looks as if he's needed at the station promptly, he tries his best to explain that he can't do what they're asking him right now, but as he hears more he realises he has to leave. Could this mean he's going to miss Lexi's dance? Will there be more disappointment ahead for Ballum?

Back with Suki, we can see she's in cafe! At first I'm watching this feeling very confused, it looks like she's talking to herself? Is she trying to find the right words to say to Jags about his relationship with Habiba?! We hear her saying things such as looking after her children and not wanting them to make the wrong choices in life ... OH MY GOD! My jaw has just dropped!!! She's only gone and stitched her own son up for the attack on Martin!!! She's sat with the Detective and in a plain see-through bag, we can see Jag's blood-stained jeans. I don't know about you guys, but I think Suki has become one of the most nastiest females on the soap that we've seen for a long time! I don't think there's been an evil female since Janine, perhaps? Is Suki up there with Janine? Do you hate her as much as I do! I'd love to know your thoughts on Suki!

At the park, Mick has finally found Frankie with Ollie. Mick demands to know where Ollie is, Frankie points and we can see the young boy playing happily in the park. Frankie apologises for worrying him and assures him that Ollie is fine. But Mick is having none of her politeness, he knows something about her isn't quite right. He tries to be sympathetic with her, saying that how she losing a young brother must've been hard for her, but he needs to know what's going on. He decides to ask her all the important questions there and then, why is she so interested in their family? Why has she been leading Tina on? Frankie apologises for leading his sister on, she tries to simply say that she just wanted to be her friend, wanted to be Linda and Mick's friend also. But something doesn't fit right with Mick, why did she take the photos? Frankie realises that this conversation is beginning to escalate, she tells him to forget about it, but he simply can't. What does she want with his family? It's then that Frankie drops the huge bombshell - she believes that Mick could in actual fact be her Dad!  

Now, as big as that reveal is! My first question is, who could is Frankie's mother? As far as I know, Mick as only ever been with Linda, as far as they've made out, they've been together since school? Mick and Linda are childhood sweethearts, right? So who the hell could be Frankie's mother? Did Mick perhaps cheat on Linda years back? Was it a one-off? Is Frankie the result of a one night stand? I know these are so many questions, but this is what's running through my mind at the moment! We know there's going to be a new character arriving in the Square, and they also have something to do with the Carter family, the name of the new character has not yet been revealed, all we know is that it's a female. Could she be Frankie's Mum?! It might make perfect sense, Frankie appears to be on her own at the moment, we don't know where she has come from or who her family are. Is EastEnders going to be working on a full story for Frankie, is she going to become a more regular part of the soap and have her own Mother move to the Square, just to make life hell for Mick and the Carter's? I think it makes perfect sense! I am so convinced that that is what is going to happen. I could be completely wrong, but I am so looking forward to seeing how Frankie's story progresses, I really like her character and I hope she'll be a part of the soap for the foreseeable future.

Please feel free to leave me message, I'd love to know your thoughts on tonight's episode. I'll be back tomorrow following Tuesday's episode. Goodnight and sweet dreams everyone! xXx

[ruoyeming]

My Top Ten Anime, a chaotic list

This was so hecking difficult, I’m gonna have to do some ‘honourable mentions’ for ones I can’t bring myself to leave out. This list is based entirely on my personal feelings, not an objective assessment of what are logically the best anime. There also may be mild spoilers at points because I can’t control myself. Doing this in quarantine cause I looove ranting about things I like.

10) Attack On Titan

This was the first anime I ever watched, and it blew my mind a bit tbh. The music is iconic, and the animation is great as well. It might have been a bit harrowing for my first experience with anime, but I absolutely loved the story. It’s set in a world where titans (man eating giants) have driven the dregs of humanity to live within giant stone walls. There’s a group of humans trying to research titans, kill them, and protect humanity, and the main character decides to join them after a titan breaks through one of the walls and his mother is eaten. It’s one of those where you think you know everything and suddenly the world gets turned upside down by a new discovery. All the puzzle pieces start fitting together the longer you watch, and you find out that everything going on is much bigger than what it originally seemed (government conspiracy time lads). The plot twists are unpredictable (for me at least) and devastating, and the emotion this series evokes is awesome - you can FEEL the sheer desperation of the characters, their rage and despair as they fight again and again against a seemingly unending enemy. Despite almost every battle being a suicide mission and despite too many losses, the characters keep going out of the human need to survive and protect. 

10/10 for brutality and gore, but also theme of hope.

9) Naruto

A founding father of anime. Surprisingly not one of the first I watched, in fact it took me a few years to start. It’s set in a feudal Japan where ninjas are the defenders and servers of the people, and different villages have different ninja styles. Naruto is a young boy with a dangerous spirit sealed inside him which has caused him to be shunned by society (even though it’s not his fault??), and he wants to become a ninja. First off I’m a sucker for the Naruto archetype: dumbass, cocky, obnoxious, but kind and loyal too. Years of solitude and ostracisation as a child mean that Naruto desperately wants people to acknowledge him, and he intends to become the Hokage to prove himself. There’s a huge range of characters and villains, all with cool ninjutsus and different philosophies. Friendship, power, and determination are some of the main themes and it makes me so proud to see my son *COUGH* Naruto progressing and learning from his mistakes. It IS a long boi though and I haven’t even finished Shippuden yet, but I think Naruto captures the essence of shounen anime and is a great underdog story. Manga is lit too. 

10/10 for cool battles and great characters.

8) Psycho Pass

One of the earlier anime I watched, and it became an instant favourite for the way it makes you question morality. It’s set in a kinda dystopian future Japan, where a technology called the Sibyl System checks people’s mental state and determines their ‘crime coefficient’ - how likely they are to commit a crime. The main character is a young woman who joins the police and begins to realise that blindly following this system is perhaps not the best way to go about things. For example, they have special guns that automatically kill people whose crime coefficients are over a certain level, but she soon proves that you can easily lower someone’s coefficient by talking them down and negotiating instead of killing them off immediately. It’s got great drama, great government conspiracy, compelling villains, and some really badass characters. It pushes the question of what is right or wrong, and how far technology should go when it comes to justice. 

10/10 for sociological debate and horror elements.

7) One Punch Man

OPM is an anime that stands out for me, partially for mocking the tropes of battle anime, and partially for the uniqueness of the main character’s predicament. It’s set in Japan where heroes and villains exist, and the protagonist is a man called Saitama who gained superstrength after doing 100 push-ups, 100 sit-ups, 100 squats, and a 10K run every day. However he’s become so strong that he can defeat every enemy with a single punch. Nothing is a challenge for him anymore so he becomes depressed and unfulfilled; he’s still a good man who helps people, but he feels he’s missing something from his life. A cyborg called Genos makes Saitama his master, determined to learn his ways and they become friends. It’s one of the first anime that made me laugh out loud; it’s funny and entertaining, but also shows us that power is not equal to happiness. 

10/10 for moral lessons and good jokes.

6) Tanaka-kun is Always Listless

The only slice of life anime on this list and not very well known, however it has a special place in my heart. The main character Tanaka is a boy who dozes off constantly and acts exhausted when awake; he loves expending as little energy as possible. His best friend Ohta looks out for him and essentially makes sure he doesn’t get lost/ be late/die on a daily basis, including carrying him when he just falls asleep sometimes. Although Tanaka seems uncaring, it’s shown that friendship isn’t a bother to him, and he realises that he actually relies on his friends despite saying he likes being left in peace. His friends all have great personalities, my personal faves are a tough gangster girl who’s rude to everyone EXCEPT her adorable loli girlfriend, and a popular girl who’s trying too hard to fit in and starts to become more herself after befriending Tanaka. All the characters share one brain cell, and it’s genuinely a funny anime - I’ve burst out laughing watching it a few times. Also Tanaka and Ohta are extremely shippable if you want to go down that route; it’s said several times in the series that they’re like an old married couple. 

10/10 for wholesomeness and comedy.

5) Ouran High School Host Club

Another lighthearted show, probably the anime that’s made me laugh the most out of any. It’s set at an academy for rich-as-heck kids, and there’s a ‘Host Club’ where all the girls go to drink tea with a group of handsome boys. There’s the cunning Kyouka, prankster identical twins Hikaru and Kaoru, stoic Mori, adorable Honey, and princely but obnoxious Tamaki. Haruhi, a working-class scholarship student who is mistaken for a boy, accidentally breaks a precious vase and is forced by the host club to join them to pay off her debt. The group of boys realise fairly quickly that haruhi is a girl, but she becomes a popular host amongst the girls (LOVE the secret lesbian vibes) so they keep up the charade. I think I have a weakness for groups that share one brain cell because aside from Kyouka, they’re all idiots. I also love how flexible the show is with ideas of gender and sexuality despite being a slightly older anime. The daily antics of the host club combined with their personalities is a recipe for comedy, and they’re all lovable in their own ways. 

10/10 for characters, drama, and comedy; it’s well-paced too.

4) Bungou Stray Dogs

Set in an alternate modern Japan where some people have secret abilities that can be activated, this anime became an obsession when I first watched it. The cast of characters is amazing and the villains are awesome too. Atsushi is an orphan who discovers he can turn into a powerful tiger, and is hired by the Armed Detective Agency, a small organisation of powerful individuals who fight crime. NEED I SAY ANY MORE?? Many of the main characters share names with famous Japanese authors such as Osamu Dazai and Ryūnosuke Akutagawa which is really cool and something that might add to the story more if I had an understanding of Japanese literature. Anyways the main character Atsushi is kind of a wimp at first (understandably because the world of ability-users is actually terrifying), but he learns to stand up for himself and use his ability to save people. The show’s mixing of dark and comedic tones is perfect to me; one moment a character is off his head on mushrooms and the next Atsushi’s leg is brutally sliced off in a back alley fight (it regenerates later no worries). The plot is really cool and full of intrigue, and eventually you get the whole ‘Usually we’re sworn enemies but we’re forced to become allies in the face of a greater evil’ thing and it’s great! Turns out our main guy and our main bad guy are actually a pretty powerful and efficient team, hoho?? 

10/10 for supernatural detectives being super cool.

3) Yuri!!! on Ice

Y’all already know what’s going on. Ice skating, emotional breakthroughs, gay shit, HIT ME WITH IT. The story follows Yuri Katsuki, an insecure figure skater trying to regain his confidence, and his self-appointed coach Viktor Nikiforov. Viktor is enthusiastic in helping Yuri train, and Yuri has been a big fan of Viktor since his childhood *throws pillow across the room*. Yuri becomes determined to, quote, “surpass Viktor’s wildest imagination”, and they end up agreeing - through a series of convoluted events - to get married if Yuri wins gold at the olympics (I think it’s the olympics??). Either fuckin way this series has angst, humour, cuteness, and god DAMN did I get invested. When Yuri was doing his free skate my own heart was beating harder than it did when I finished a 10K. Love the vibes and also it’s the closest to full healthy gay representation that I’ve seen in anime for a while. Not much more I can say, but do I really need to say more???

10/10 for GAY and MY HEART

2) Kimetsu No Yaiba (Demon Slayer)

Ok this one’s kind of a cheat cause I’ve read the manga as well which is way ahead of the anime, but FUCC. It takes place in the Taisho Era in Japan (begins 1912), where Demons exist who eat people. Tanjiro Kamado’s family is killed by a demon one night and his sister Nezuko is turned into a demon - but it is soon discovered she’s different to other demons, and can restrain herself. Tanjiro joins the Demon Slayer Corps to try and track down a cure for his sister, while proving that demons are not inherently evil. I LOVE Tanjiro as a main character because he values kindness over everything else, not forgiving demons for their sins but recognising they are tormented creatures, trying to give them peace before they die. All demons were once human - a fact that only Tanjiro seems to remember when fighting them. He’s patient, gentle, and determined - hotheaded and brash sometimes, but he has this vibe that just makes people become his friend/respect him even if they don’t intend to. He befriends two other slayers - Inosuke, an absolutely feral Best Boy who was raised by wild boars, and Zenitsu, a cowardly but ultimately loyal guy. This trio works really well together and Tanjiro is a great protagonist. Don’t even get me STARTED on the music and animation. Impeccable. Kamado Tanjiro No Uta makes me cry every time I hear it, and the water/fire effects used to show the metaphorical way the swords move like the elements takes my breath away.

10/10 for morals, music and animation.

1) Mob Psycho 100

Where the fuck do I start here. This anime is so unique in its style, story, and characters that I think it will always be my favourite. It follows Shigeo Kageyama (nicknamed Mob cause that’s what they call extras and background characters in Japan), a plain boy with incredible psychic powers that explode when his emotions are too high. Over time he’s learned to suppress his emotions, causing him to become socially inept and emotionally withdrawn. His (fake) psychic ‘master’, Reigen, uses him to make money exorcising spirits, making Mob believe that it’s for ‘training’. Mob appears naive at times, but he is so simply kind to people that it makes my heart hurt. Unlike many of the egomaniac psychics that Mob comes across, he recognises that without powers, he is just an ordinary boy. Mob’s greatest power isn’t his OP psychic abilities, but his power to show people they can change, that he can change. He forgives (and eventually befriends) people who have tried to kill him. Redemption and empathy are big themes here and they’re done really well.

The other characters are so well rounded and are also given time to grow, including Reigen - at first he’s a seemingly manipulative sleazebag, but later you see that he is a genuinely good man who has taught Mob many lessons and helped him grow up. This is a core message - Mob’s ability to change is due to support from his friends, not purely his own desire - people need other people!

This is also one of the true rarities in anime where the second season is absolutely just as good (if not better!) than the first one. The music is unique to the show, the ops for both seasons get me litty, the animation is incredible, the jokes are great and although it’s not all about big-ass fights, when we do get a big-ass fight it’s so fucking cool. The fight sequences are beautifully animated and visually stunning. MP100 makes me laugh, cry like an actual baby, and want to become a better person. Idk I could literally write pages on it like the big nerd I am but that’s all I’ll do for now.

10/10 for literally everything.

HONOURABLE MENTIONS

Given : about a boy who joins a band which helps him work through his trauma. Lovely healthy gay representation and themes of healing.

Samurai Champloo : ragtag trio consisting of two samurai - one lowkey feral and does breakdancing, the other lofty and withdrawn - and a bold young girl. Themes of friendship and journeys. I simp for the lofty samurai.

Cowboy Bebop: jazzy music, bounty hunters in space, 90s anime WHAT MORE COULD U WANT. Yet another group of characters that share a single brain cell. Love it.

[alocalband]

What Happens in Vegas Bennguin, 3k, Mature Also on AO3

A few of the boys are still lounging around the pool even though the party’s died down. The rest of them drunkenly found their way into Jamie’s hotel room for video games and more drinking.

Jamie is loose and content on the bed, leaning back against the headboard. It’s the first time since the game seven double overtime loss that he hasn’t felt like throwing himself off a cliff, and he’s indulging the feeling. Drinking whatever shitty beer one of the guys hands him, watching Dicky absolutely mop the floor with Brett in Madden, letting Tyler be overly handsy and obnoxious beside him as he chirps the boys a little too loudly.

Eventually everyone breaks off to find their own fun. The sun’s still up, but they’ve been at it all day, so Jamie honestly wouldn’t mind just putting on a movie and then sleeping all the way up to their flight back tomorrow.

Tyler ends up the last one in the room with him, still sitting on the bed beside each other, as Janny determinedly heads out the door on his way to an ill-advised hookup that Tyler won’t stop falling all over himself laughing about.

Once Tyler’s able to catch his breath, he snorts and shrugs. “Well. ’What happens in Vegas,’ am I right?” he grins and takes another swig of his beer.

Jamie is just sober enough to know the next words out of his mouth are a bad idea, and just drunk enough to say them anyway. “Hey, does that mean-- Like, if I were to tell you something while we’re here, we could just leave it behind when we get back to Dallas? Just, you know, pretend I never said it?”

Tyler laughs again and nudges Jamie with his elbow, raising a crooked eyebrow. “This you asking for a free pass to rip me a new one? Go for it, man, I can take it.”

Jamie frowns. “What would I want to lay into you for?”

“I don’t know. Lack of scoring? Snagging the last beer?” He raises said beer up for emphasis, and then knocks back the rest of it.

“If I’m pissed at anyone for lack of scoring, Seggy, it’s myself.”

The change in Tyler’s expression at that is immediate, from drunken goofball to Serious Business Alternate Captain mode in .2 seconds flat. Jamie’s kind of in awe of the way the look highlights just how much Tyler’s grown up in the years since he got to Dallas.

“Hey man, we talked about this. We both had slumps. And we both did a lot of good shit too. If you start beating up on yourself again, I swear I’m gonna--”

“No, Segs, I’m not-- I’m good. You don’t have to worry.”

An easy smile tugs at Tyler’s lips as he slips right back into being pleasantly inebriated and carefree, slinging an arm around Jamie’s shoulders as if to emphasize that. “I always worry about you, Chubbs.”

He says it so casually that the words really shouldn’t make Jamie feel like he just got run into the boards.

But that breathless, helpless feeling that Tyler always manages to inspire in Jamie without even trying doesn’t excuse what Jamie does next.

“I’m gay,” he says.

Because he’s an idiot.

Tyler blinks dumbly at him for a couple seconds, and then starts to laugh.

And then abruptly stops when he sees Jamie is obviously not gonna be laughing with him.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, pulling his arm off of Jamie’s shoulders.

Jamie swallows thickly at the loss of its comforting weight, wondering if that’s his answer to the unspoken question of, Is that okay? Are we still good? He suddenly feels a lot more sober than he did thirty seconds ago.

“Stays in Vegas,” he reiterates, trying not to pass out in fear of how the rest of this conversation is going to go. Why the fuck did he finally say it out loud. And to Tyler of all people, the one guy it would pretty much devastate Jamie to get a bad reaction to this from.

Tyler puts both hands up, wide-eyed. “Of course! I wouldn’t-- fuck, are you actually serious right now? Chubbs, it’s been years. And you never--”

“It’s the NHL, Segs,” he interrupts. “And with the C... Obviously none of the guys can know.”

“They wouldn’t--”

“You don’t know that.”

Tyler looks down at his now empty beer bottle, picking at the peeling label for a long moment.

The prolonged silence is doing nothing to help Jamie’s looming panic attack. “Look, if you’re uncomfortable, it’s fine.” It’s really not, but Jamie is used to hiding heartache. “Like I said, we’re gonna pretend this whole conversation never happened, right? Nothing has to change.”

God, he hopes nothing changes. It would fucking break him if Seggy started treating him differently because of this. Damn it, why did he open his mouth at all?

Tyler’s eyes are still downcast. But then he sighs and leans over to set the beer bottle on the night stand. When he straightens, he locks his gaze with Jamie’s, his expression almost solemn. “Are you seeing anyone?”

The question catches Jamie off guard. He frowns, his brow furrowed in confusion. “No?”

Tyler nods once, decisive. And then leans in and kisses him.

To say Jamie is shocked would be an understatement. His whole body locks up, frozen, and his thoughts stutter to a halt. He doesn’t even have the presence of mind to catalogue the feeling of Tyler’s lips on his before Tyler is pulling back with a small frown. “Shit. Did I read that wrong?”

Jamie just stares at him, unable to process what’s just happened.

“Ah fuck, I’m sorry, man. I totally thought--”

“You kissed me,” Jamie manages.

Tyler looks at him like he thinks Jamie’s being intentionally obtuse. “Yeah? Duh? And I woulda done it a bajillion years ago if I thought I wouldn’t get punched for it.” He leans a little further away from Jamie. “Wait, am I gonna get punched for it?”

A hysterical little laugh bubbles up out of Jamie. He never thought this was a possibility, never allowed himself to even imagine...

He grabs a handful of Tyler’s T-shirt and reels him back in.

This kiss is long, slow and searching, the both of them active participants moving together like they already know exactly how the other will respond. Like the sixth sense they have on the ice somehow miraculously also applies to this.

When they come up for air, panting against each other’s swollen lips, Jamie has to squeeze his eyes shut tight and grip Tyler’s hips with bruising fingers to try to ground himself.

“What happens in Vegas?” Tyler asks breathlessly, but with a sort of timid caution that lets Jamie know what he’s really asking.

“It doesn’t have to. If you... It doesn’t have to stay here.”

“You sure?” He’s got one hand in Jamie’s hair and the other resting on Jamie’s thigh, slowly inching its way higher.

“Do you wanna know exactly how long I’ve been trying not to fall in love with you? Because it’s been a while.”

Tyler laughs, delighted. His face is so open and bright with his joy that Jamie can’t help but kiss him again. He wants to wrap Tyler up in his arms and never let go. He wants to be the cause of Tyler’s joy for the rest of their lives.

“If you need the receipts on how long I’ve been mooning over your stupid ass just ask Spez. He’s been throwing balls of tape at my head in the locker room every time I get too obvious about it since day fucking one.”

“Good to know.” Jamie grins. And then, a nervous stutter of his heart: “So Spez is cool with...”

Tyler purses his lips into something not quite a frown but close enough. It looks a little sad. “You know, a lot of them would be.” Jamie opens his mouth to argue, but Tyler beats him to it. “Just consider it, Cap. But not now. Right now the only thing I want you considering is my dick.”

Jamie doesn’t have the chance to roll his eyes and groan at that because Tyler heaves himself up to straddle him and start kissing again in earnest. And then Jamie’s groaning for an entirely different reason, bucking his hips up against the hard line of Tyler’s growing erection beneath his swim shorts.

Jamie tugs at Tyler’s shirt. “Off, off,” he pants against Tyler’s mouth. “Can’t believe you put a shirt on at all today.”

Tyler leans back and pulls she shirt over his head, while Jamie does the same with his own. “You keep your hotel room too cold,” he whines with an over the top pout.

Jamie gives him an unimpressed look. “You’re from Canada. You make a living being on ice.”

“Okay, okay, quit fucking chirping me and get naked already,” he says around laughter, like he’s never had this much fun. Jamie feels the same way. Being turned on while making fun of each other is a unique concept for him in the bedroom and he doesn’t know why it’s never been like this before. Maybe because he’s never had sex with someone who was a friend first.

Tyler rolls off of him so he can take off his shorts and then toss them clear across the room while Jamie eases out of his own. When Tyler turns back to face him, Jamie pounces and pins him to the bed with all of his weight.

“God that’s hot,” Tyler breathes, pupils blown.

Jamie grinds down into him, causing Tyler to close his eyes and throw his head back with a low groan. Then Jamie reaches down between them and takes them both in hand.

There is always something about watching Tyler without clothes on that feels like watching a performance. He is so fully aware when even a random phone’s camera is nearby, or where everyone’s eyes are immediately drawn whether they want to be or not. But it is very much a show, even at his most relaxed. Like he’s certain that no one in proximity would ever look at him as more than what he wants them to see: something to admire, to covet, to watch.

This is different. This feels like the show is just for Jamie’s eyes alone, and if anyone else were to try to intrude, everything about Tyler would shift. This is a Tyler just for the two of them. A Tyler that knows that Jamie’s lust is about more than just his body.

Neither of them last long, and thank god because Jamie’s embarrassingly hard just from getting to put his dick anywhere near those abs.

Tyler comes with a choked off shout. Jamie is so surprised by the fact that he goes first, and so turned on by the face Tyler makes, that he’s coming himself seconds later.

Tyler strokes him through the aftershocks. And when Jamie starts to softly whine at the overstimulation, he shimmies up the bed until they’re face to face, heads lying on the same pillow.

For a long moment the only sounds are their labored breaths and the muted noise of the strip outside the hotel room window. The further from the high of his orgasm Jamie gets, the more worried he is about what’s going through Tyler’s head. He admitted to an attraction to Jamie, but that doesn’t mean...

“...Hey,” Tyler says, oddly cautious, like he’s dipping his toes into water he’s already certain will be too cold.

“Uh, hey,” Jamie shoots back on reflex, a little too short for the situation, a little too closed off just on instinct. Shit. He can feel the air in the room shift to something wary, and this whole thing is about to get blamed on alcohol and fucking Vegas, isn’t it?

Tyler studies Jamie’s left shoulder for a long moment, pointedly not meeting his eyes. And then he rolls over so he’s on his back, several inches of space between them. He keeps his gaze on the ceiling as he says, evenly, “Okay. So. I’m gonna go.”

Jamie reaches out for him before he can second guess himself, wrapping a hand around Tyler’s tattooed forearm to keep him from getting out of bed. “Wait.”

“It’s fine, man. We don’t have to--”

“You said ‘since day one.’”

Tyler swallows thickly. “I did. And you said ‘falling in love.’”

Jamie nods. “I did.”

A small smile starts to tug at the edge of Tyler’s lips, and he does a poor job of tamping it down. “Well then I guess I’m not going anywhere, am I?”

His tone is amused and hopeful, but there’s enough of a question in his eyes that Jamie feels the need to confirm what he now suspects is true. He pulls Tyler into him, and Tyler falls against his chest without resistance. Jamie kisses him, quick and firm. “I’m keeping you for as long as I can get away with.”

“Might be awhile.” he smirks a little, playful and coy.

Jamie smirks right back. “Good.”

They manage to fit a couple more rounds in, along with room service and an HBO doc that Jamie is going to remember exactly zero of thanks to Tyler’s rudely talented mouth.

Jamie wakes up the next morning to Tyler having stolen all the blankets, burrowed down into them, his face hardly visible while his forehead is pressed into Jamie’s shoulder. It’s possibly the best way Jamie’s ever woken up, even with the mild hangover.

At the airport, waiting for their flight back to Dallas, Jamie finds himself in line at Starbucks next to Klinger. The guy is very obviously hungover, so are the rest of them, and looks like he’s going to fall over if he doesn’t get some coffee into his system in the next five minutes.

Jamie can relate, even if he’s more just tired than hungover, and so doesn’t chirp him when he yawns twice in a row and then nearly stumbles backwards into a shelf of travel mugs. He does laugh though, to which Klinger rolls his eyes and slugs him the arm, but he’s got a smile on his face.

“Hey, you have fun last night after we left? Or did you just stay in and watch TV like the old man you are?” His tone is teasing as they shuffle forward in line, though still a good six people away from the register.

Jamie considers his answer for a moment, and then considers John. His other A. Dependable and honest and just... a good guy. A guy Jamie trusts.

“Nah, I hung out with Seggy. He kept me pretty busy.” He doesn’t imbue any innuendo into it, his tone light. But he figures if Tyler really has been that obvious in the past, that maybe Klinger will read into it anyway.

And judging by the way John’s eyes widen slightly as he stares at Jamie and Jamie stares evenly right back, it looks like he was right. “Oh.”

Jamie purses his lips and waits, heart in his throat.

But then Klinger grins and punches Jamie in the arm again, only this time hard enough in his enthusiasm that Jamie winces. “Fuck yeah, man. It’s about god damn time.”

Jamie laughs and throws an arm around John to pull him into a side hug. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

He glances over at where the rest of the guys are sitting at the terminal several yards away, immediately homing in on one body in particular. Sunk down low in his seat, limbs sprawled out wide, nodding his head along to whatever music he’s got coming through his air pods. Tyler looks as relaxed as ever, and so casually, effortlessly gorgeous that Jamie can’t believe he gets to have that.

No, not just have, but keep.

And maybe even get to tell a few people about it. Have people be happy for him out in the open, instead of solely in his most rare and hidden and buried fantasies.

It doesn’t feel real, especially beneath the hot desert sun streaming in through the big windows and the slot machines making noise at the other end of the causeway. But Klinger wrapping an arm around Jamie’s waist and hugging back, laughing delightedly against Jamie’s shoulder, solidifies it. Helps Jamie feel even more confident that this definitely doesn’t have to stay in Vegas.

He gets to take this feeling home with him.

[anarchetypalarchive]

Mission: Impossible Probably Doesn’t Have This Much Gay Panic

aka that ridiculous super tropey cliched jeremwood gta fic i started ages ago and have now finished as a valentine’s gift for @ryanthepowerbottomguy rating: m for nonspecific dick mention content warning for bad humor, deliberately vague heist details, and ryan “you can’t catch me gay thoughts” haywood on ao3 excerpt:

“It just needs another minute.”

“We don’t have a minute,” Ryan says. He presses an ear against the door and shuts his eyes, tense, waiting, mapping out a dozen escape routes in his head. “We have maybe thirty seconds. Does that work?”

“Look, the thing—it says it needs fifty-three seconds, okay, do you want me to argue with the computer?”

“Well, yeah, that’s what Gavin does!”

“He—okay, wait, no? He definitely doesn’t just argue with the computer, what the hell, what exactly do you think Gavin does when he’s—” Jeremy cuts himself off, goes still and quiet when heavy footsteps stop in front of the door.

“Alright,” Ryan murmurs, shifting to move into a better position to intercept the guy when he comes through the door. “I’ll try to take him down quietly and maybe we won’t, uh, no, what are you doing,” he says, bewildered, when Jeremy vaults himself over the desk neatly and starts moving in Ryan’s direction.

“I saw this in a movie once,” Jeremy says seriously, and then he’s grabbing Ryan by the lapels of his ill-fitting suit and hauling him down to kiss him.

Fully. On the mouth. With tongue. It’s a little dirty.

Ryan wants to say he plays it cool.

On Tuesday, Jack rolls her eyes and rubs her nose and says to Jeremy, “I’m not sick.”

On Wednesday, Jack coughs wetly and turns to Ryan before he can speak and snaps, “I’m not sick.”

On Thursday, Jack shivers with a flushed face and rounds on Geoff and manages to sound pretty fucking threatening despite all the sweaters she’s bundled in when she says, “Say a goddamn thing about my health and I’ll cut off your balls, Ramsey.”

On Friday morning, Geoff hovers like a concerned mother in the doorway of Jack’s room and delicately suggests she might not be well enough to pull off the job at the vineyard that weekend.

Ryan—who is not hiding behind Geoff in fear of pillows or books or small knives being thrown in their general direction, thank you very much—waits for Jack to haul herself out of bed with a deliberate and intense rejection of any implication that illness is even a plausible thing that exists in any person, especially herself.

Instead, to the surprise of Ryan and Geoff and God Himself, Jack moans pitifully and burrows further underneath the blankets. “I think I came down with something,” she says, voice muffled by layers of bedding.

“Yeah, like four days ago,” Jeremy says. Ryan doesn’t jump in surprise, but it’s a close thing. He turns to see Jeremy behind him, lifted up on his toes slightly as he peers around Geoff and Ryan to look at Jack, concern twisting a slight frown to his mouth. Jeremy does that a lot—moves silently and unnoticed, effortlessly, despite the weight of him, his muscle and bulk, his bright personality and brighter green fucking hair. (Like a big fucking purple polkadotted elephant that can still be a ninja, Michael had said nonsensically during one of his more intense drinking sessions.)

The effect of Jack glaring daggers at him is diminished somewhat with the way she’s nested in pillows and blankets, face flushed, hair a mess. “Dooley,” she starts, venomous, and then she has to break off and cough hard for a few moments.

“I’m calling Caleb,” Geoff says, patting himself down for his phone.

“No, you’re not,” Jack protests.

“I’m gonna find a thermometer,” Jeremy adds, turning and disappearing down the hall.

“No, you’re not!” Jack calls out.

“I’m gonna— Uh, soup?” Ryan tries weakly, withering under Jack’s scowl and starting to back away from the room. “I’m gonna— I’m just gonna go.”

“I hate you all,” Jack shouts. “It’s just a cold!”

——

“It’s the flu,” Caleb says with a frown, pulling away from Jack’s bed. They look concerned, but mostly exasperated. “You should’ve called me sooner.”

Geoff has a distinct I told you so expression and Ryan’s seriously in fear for Geoff’s life if the way Jack’s looking at him is any indication of how long he’s going to remain uninjured.

“But I can run this job,” Jack says, “right?”

She and Geoff are supposed to be going to a fancy wine tasting out in Blaine County to get access to various plans, names, locations, and other information supposedly stored on a computer on the property.

“Are you fucking kidding?” Geoff says, and Ryan and Jeremy look at each other and simultaneously flee from the room to the tune of Jack’s frustrated snap of a response and Caleb’s I-Seriously-Do-Not-Get-Paid-Enough-For-This-I-Mean-Really sigh.

Ryan has a sneaking suspicion—a growing sense of dread, really—that he knows what’s about to happen. He and Jeremy are idly playing Mario Kart in the living room when Geoff appears, looking disgruntled and like he’s on a mission. Ryan automatically looks for the nearest exit, but then Geoff’s standing in front of them, blocking their line of sight to the television.

“Geoff,” Jeremy says, swaying this way and that, trying to see around him. “Geoff, no, we’re playing rainbow road, this is a very crucial moment— Toad, nooooo,” he finishes sadly, his side of the split screen abruptly going dark.

“I need you two to run this job,” Geoff says firmly. It’s his ‘no-nonsense-I’m-the-dad’ voice, and Ryan resists the urge to whine.

“What about Gavin and Michael?” he asks. “When are they getting back?”

“Not until next week.”

“What about Lindsay?”

“Ryan.”

“Or Trevor.”

“You’re going,” Geoff says, looking exasperated. “End of discussion.”

“I will turn this car around, kids,” Jeremy says under his breath.

Geoff gives him a look. “It’s a straightforward job. You’ll have the invitation to the wine tasting already, so there won’t be any trouble getting in. Wait until the guests are too drunk to be paying attention and then look for an office. Our intel says it’ll probably be in one of the back rooms past the guest hall. You copy the plans onto a flash drive and bring it back here. Easy. You can handle it.”

The issue isn’t really that Ryan thinks he can’t handle it. Geoff’s right, it’s straightforward. The issue is that Ryan may or may not be harboring something vaguely in the realm of not-strictly coworker-like feelings for Jeremy, and the thought of spending hours at a fancy party pretending to be an item— Well. Ryan isn’t exactly interested in making a total idiot of himself in front of the guy he may or may  not be interested in.

“I don’t have a suit,” Ryan tries weakly.

“You can borrow one of mine.”

“Wait, hold on,” Jeremy says. He’s frowning. Ryan allows himself a brief moment of hope.

“What?” Geoff asks.

“I’m gonna have to dye my hair back to brown, aren’t I.” He looks devastated.

——

So, apparently they’re doing this.

Ryan fidgets in Geoff’s ill-fitting suit the whole drive up to Blaine County. This really isn’t their style: the crew is more about jobs with loud explosions and car chases than this type of covert operation.

(It’ll be fun, Jeremy says. Like Ocean’s Eleven. Or Mission: Impossible. Ryan’s dubious.)

Ryan’s not really sure what he’s expecting, except it’s not this—a diamond of a vineyard in the rough of Blaine County. As they walk up the drive, he looks at the rows of vines reaching out into the distance towards the horizon. Rosebushes stand rooted at the start of each row, shadows of their thorned stems stretching long in the last few minutes of sunset.

“Pretty,” Jeremy comments.

“Useful,” Ryan replies, glancing over in time to see Jeremy’s curious expression.

“Useful?”

“Canary in the coal mine,” he explains—nonsensically, if the change in Jeremy’s face from curious to bewildered is any indication. He gestures vaguely. “The rosebushes are...more fragile. Than the vines. But they’re susceptible to the same diseases. So, disease happens, the roses go first, gives everyone a chance to fix things before everything goes to hell. They’re a—”

“Warning system,” Jeremy supplies, but he’s frowning.

“Necessary sacrifice.”

“Is it?”

Ryan looks at him. He opens his mouth to respond, but Jeremy’s already moved on, hands going to his suit pockets in search of their invitation as they approach the doors of the country house. The occasional formally-dressed couple filters inside after being not-quite interrogated by the man at the door who’s checking the guest list.

It says something about the sort of jobs Ryan usually takes that his brain automatically classifies the man as bouncer even though he’s pretty sure there’s a higher-class term for what the guy is doing. Still, he can’t shake the tension that seizes hold of his shoulders, tension that comes only when he’s about to intimidate his way past a bouncer into a seedy club to do a shakedown or complete a contract hit.

But this isn’t downtown Los Santos, and he’s not the Vagabond right now.

Ryan takes in a breath, holds it, lets it go as he forces himself to shrug on the personality of this character he needs to become. The character that is happily married to Jeremy—to Jeremy’s character.

Ryan already has a headache.

“—is that okay?” Jeremy’s saying, looking up at Ryan with his brow furrowed.

Ryan blinks. “I— Yeah,” he says, nodding, trying to look more confident and less I was paying zero attention to what you were saying because I’m still lowkey having a brain aneurysm every time I look down at the wedding ring on my finger or remember that I’m supposed to be pretending I’m married to you, and one of those two things happen approximately every four seconds, so I’ll basically be having one continuous moment of stupidity during this entire job, I hope that’s okay, and also I’m sorry you have to deal with me but there’s really nothing that can be done about it at this point, have I mentioned what an absolute catch I am.

“Great,” Jeremy says, oblivious, and suddenly there’s the warm weight of his bicep sliding into place against Ryan as he links their arms together.

“What are you doing,” Ryan says lowly as Jeremy hands their invitation over to the not-bouncer, voice strangled and rough, like the manifestation of his huge gay crush is trying to crawl its way free from his throat.

Jeremy looks thrown off and alarmed. “You just said I could!” he hisses defensively, and he shifts hastily like he’s going to extract himself from Ryan.

And Ryan—well, maybe his grip on Jeremy sort of immediately tightens tenfold, but that’s just. Acting. Because the supposed married couple should probably not be pulling away from each other in gay panic alarm. He’s a professional. He’s acting. It’s fine.

“Mr. Armstrong,” the not-bouncer says as he looks up from the invitation to Ryan with a nod. He gestures to Jeremy. “And this is your husband?”

Ryan’s brain misfires. For a moment, he says nothing, gaping slightly, only managing to snap into action when the not-bouncer’s brow furrows in what appears to be concern. “Yeah,” he says. It comes out louder than he intends it to, more a bark than a response. He coughs, tries to salvage it. “Uh— Yes, this is my husband,” he clarifies, totally unnecessarily, voice now overly loud and stilted. Jeremy looks pained.

You’re a professional, his mind supplies again, except now it just sounds miserable.

Thank god for Jeremy, who laughs and strokes a hand down Ryan’s arm—ostensibly as a gesture of affection, but to Ryan it comes across as a desperate heed to shut up before you get us shot, oh my god, what are you even doing. “Newlyweds,” he explains, his smile unfairly charming. “He’s still getting used to it.”

Ryan tries to nod along, ducks his head with a carefully constructed sheepish smile, but he’s hyperaware of Jeremy’s soothing little touches to his arm.

There’s a voice in the back of his mind that sounds like Geoff, authoritative and exasperated and a little shrill. Hey, asshole. You have a murder count in the triple digits. You are a very scary man. Please pop the fucking floating hearts making a love nest over your head.

The not-bouncer just shrugs and waves them in, and Ryan lets out a long, relieved sigh as they step into the air-conditioned hall.

It’s a large building, packed with rich people in varying states of tipsy, and Ryan has possibly never been so uncomfortable in his life.

Jeremy picks up on it, because Ryan has all the subtlety and more of a brick to the face. “You okay?”

Ryan opens his mouth to deflect, to brush the question off, but Jeremy’s looking at him earnestly, like he actually cares. That makes it all worse, somehow. “I’m not used to being in the field without my mask,” he admits. That is, at least, part of the truth; Ryan decides to leave out the and you look really nice in a suit and that’s making me want to jump out the nearest window to escape my own feelings.

Jeremy smiles. “Hey, don’t worry. All we gotta do is schmooze until everybody’s drunk. By then, nobody’s gonna remember what you look like, anyway.”

“Schmooze,” Ryan echoes dubiously.

“Plus, don’t you have a background in theater or something? Just act your way through it.”

Ryan freezes. “Who told you that.”

Jeremy grins, deceptively cherubic. “Geoff.”

“Of course he did.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ryan asks defensively.

“I mean, you’re kind of...dramatic?”

“Says the guy who wears purple and orange and nicknamed himself Monster Truck.”

Jeremy smiles wickedly and pulls out the big guns. “Geoff said you used to be a mod—”

“No one can prove anything.”

Jeremy’s laughing now, dimples popping in his cheeks, and Ryan can’t stay annoyed for the life of him. Hell, Jeremy’s right; it’s a waiting game for now. There’s expensive wine and fancy little snack things (hors d'oeuvres, Jeremy says; tiny snack things, Ryan insists) and he might as well enjoy himself before they have to really get to work.

Still, his mind is sending off little alerts, flashing neon signs that say Date!! This is like a Date!! You’re the only one who thinks it’s like a date but you should still be very alarmed and awkward!!!

He drowns those neon signs resolutely in wines he can’t pronounce the name of and tiny snack things he also can’t pronounce the name of, and he’s able to relax after half an hour or so.

It’s nice to really spend time with Jeremy. It’s hard to get a pocket of time where it’s just the two of them—Ryan supposes that’s the benefit and drawback to being part of a big crew: you’re never alone.

But now Jeremy talks about growing up in Boston and about how he has a cat (Scooter would love you, you should come over sometime and meet him, and Ryan has a heart attack) and Ryan learns a dozen things he never knew about Jeremy before.

To his own surprise, he starts sharing about himself, too. He’s comfortable with the crew; he’s grown a lot since joining, but he still doesn’t make a habit of offering up information unprompted. Maybe that’s reflex from years of paranoia or because he doesn’t think he’s very interesting, but Jeremy beams when Ryan says he wishes he had a dog and that he grew up in Georgia and he’s been self-conscious about the twang in his voice that pops up whenever he’s particularly tired or worked up (Dude, I think it’s nice, Jeremy says, bet you get all the ladies with that, and, well, no).

Ryan’s waiting for Jeremy to come back with two of some weird sugary dessert thing Ryan saw and immediately demanded, but when he returns, he’s empty-handed and looking mildly panicked.

“Wegottago.”

Ryan frowns. “What?”

Jeremy’s bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. “We gotta go, my old boss is here—”

“Who?”

“Joel Heyman,” Jeremy starts impatiently.

“You used to work for Heyman? Why the hell did you never mention that?”

“It never came up.”

“Jeremy—”

“Look, it’s fine, it’s just, I’m not totally sure if he’s gonna be cool about—”

“Dooley,” comes a calm voice.

Jeremy freezes, then plasters on a winning smile and turns around. “Joel,” he says warmly. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Joel Heyman, from what little Ryan knows about him, has vague ties to Geoff (and apparently Jeremy) and is one of the richest people in the city. It’s a little baffling that his suit is slightly too big on him and somewhat rumpled and faded, like he’s owned it for twenty years.

“What are you doing here, kid,” Joel demands with a sigh.

Jeremy’s smile doesn’t falter. “This is a wine tasting, Joel,” he says. “We’re tasting wine. Enjoying the high life.”

“Schmoozing,” Ryan puts in.

Joel raises an eyebrow at him, and he falls silent again. “You working a job for Ramsey?” he asks, voice low.

Jeremy looks uncomfortable. “Are you gonna make this hard for us?” he asks, tone suddenly serious.

Joel watches him for a long moment. “You going to blow the place up?” he asks.

“No.”

“Is my drinking going to be interrupted?”

“Probably not.” Joel cuts him a look. “Definitely not.”

Joel gives him another long look, then fixes Ryan with an identical one. “I never saw you,” he announces. “I’ve never seen you before in my life.” Ryan stares in bewilderment as Joel turns and walks off, tipping back the full wine glass in his hand and practically chugging it as he walks.

Ryan manages to tear his gaze away to look at Jeremy. “Was he like that while you were working for him?” he asks, unable to think of anything else to say.

“Oh, god no.”

“Huh.”

“He was way weirder.”

——

By the time they manage to sneak off into the back rooms of the vineyard hall, most of the guests are on the verge of drunk or well past it. They’d had to drink a bit themselves to keep up appearances, and it’s a testament to how infrequently Ryan drinks that he’s actually feeling somewhat buzzed as they look for the computer with the plans on it.

It doesn’t take long to find it, Jeremy picking his fifth lock to get them into a room that turns out to be the vineyard’s office; they close themselves in and Ryan listens for footsteps while Jeremy boots up the computer and gets the flash drive ready.

Despite how well everything’s been going so far—for a given value of well, if well involves tripping over Jeremy’s polished shoes every fifteen seconds as they search the back rooms, or earlier in the night when Ryan got startled and in a terrifying moment of blind reflex nearly embedded an hors d'oeuvre utensil into the throat of a poor, awkward, terrified bureaucrat like some kind of horrifying impromptu tracheotomy—

Despite that, Ryan is beginning to think that their luck may have run out.

“Jeremy, we need to go,” he says, muscles coiled tight like he’s ready to run or fight or—or stay still, apparently, which is what he’s currently doing, because Jeremy won’t step away from the computer where the drive is flashing blue as it gradually copies and stores the information.

“It just needs another minute.”

“We don’t have a minute,” Ryan says. He presses an ear against the door and shuts his eyes, tense, waiting, mapping out a dozen escape routes in his head. “We have maybe thirty seconds. Does that work?”

“Look, the thing—it says it needs fifty-three seconds, okay, do you want me to argue with the computer?”

“Well, yeah, that’s what Gavin does!”

“He—okay, wait, no? He definitely doesn’t just argue with the computer, what the hell, what exactly do you think Gavin does when he’s—” Jeremy cuts himself off, goes still and quiet when heavy footsteps stop in front of the door.

“Alright,” Ryan murmurs, shifting to move into a better position to intercept the guy when he comes through the door. “I’ll try to take him down quietly and maybe we won’t, uh, no, what are you doing,” he says, bewildered, when Jeremy vaults himself over the desk neatly and starts moving in Ryan’s direction.

“I saw this in a movie once,” Jeremy says seriously, and then he’s grabbing Ryan by the lapels of his ill-fitting suit and hauling him down to kiss him.

Fully. On the mouth. With tongue. It’s a little dirty.

Ryan wants to say he plays it cool.

When the door slams open, Jeremy doesn’t even pause, not breaking away from Ryan until  a loud Hey! comes from the guy standing in the doorway.

Jeremy pulls away with a wet noise and turns to look at the guy, one hand still hanging on to Ryan’s lapel.

“Oops,” Jeremy says. Ryan says nothing, because Ryan has lost all ability to speak or think or do anything other than stare at Jeremy, glassy-eyed.

“You can’t be in here,” the guy says roughly.

“Sorry,” Jeremy says sheepishly. “The wine just sorta… You know how it is.” Is he flirting?

The guy looks somewhat taken aback. Jeremy lets go of Ryan and moves to sit on the desk, hopping up and letting his legs swing.

After a moment, Ryan gets it. He lets Jeremy keep up the drunk, flirty guest act and focuses on the man in the doorway. The way his jacket hangs means he’s packing, a small handgun, probably, but it doesn’t take a big gun to kill someone, especially not in close quarters like this.

“You… You can’t be in here,” the guy says again. Ryan smiles apologetically and moves to get between the guy and Jeremy, blocking his line of sight.

“I’m sorry. My husband’s had a bit more than he can handle. It’s hard to tell him no sometimes.” All the time. “We’ll go.” By the time he turns around, Jeremy’s slipping a hand into the pocket of his suit pants.

“Okay, okay,” Jeremy singsongs, sliding off the desk and stumbling a bit before he crashes into Ryan and leans against him heavily, laughing. “We’ll go. But I’ll be seeing you later,” he tells the guy, poking him playfully in the chest as Ryan ushers him out of the room and back down the hall towards the party.

“You know you’re gonna have to keep up the drunk persona for the rest of the night,” Ryan says lowly, one hand around Jeremy. It’s taking all of his effort not to think about the kiss, about the rough scratch of Jeremy’s facial hair and the soft, wet slide of his mouth and—dammit.

“Fuck that,” Jeremy replies, dragging Ryan from his reverie. “Let’s get the hell out of here as soon as it’s clear. That guy didn’t look like he bought it.”

“He’s armed.”

“Yeah. Not in the mood to get shot. Especially after drinking. You know how much more you bleed?”

——

Not wanting to seem even more suspicious than they already do, they decide to give it twenty minutes before making their leave; Ryan wanders off to pick at what remains of the hors d'oeuvres to soak up the alcohol in his system, then meets back up with Jeremy to leave with the other people starting to trickle out.

As they walk through the dark parking lot to Jeremy’s car, Ryan’s a little giddy with the excitement of a job gone well, admittedly still reeling from the kiss even now. Honestly, he’ll chalk the night up as a success all around.

Typically, that’s when someone emerges from the one of the rows of grapevines and points a gun at his head. “Oh, goddammit.”

It’s clearly not the reaction the man was expecting. He pauses, then steps completely out of the shadows, aim not faltering. It’s the guy from before, managing to look a lot more intimidating now that Jeremy isn’t actively flirting with him and he’s holding a gun. “Alright, let’s make this quick.” He points at Jeremy, gun still pointed between Ryan’s eyes. “You give me the flash drive, I won’t blow your boyfriend’s brains out.”

“Husband,” Jeremy blurts.

The man stares at him. “What.”

Jeremy raises his left hand and wiggles his fingers at him, the gold of his borrowed ring glinting in the light of far-off car headlights. “He’s my husband.”

“Jeremy,” Ryan says lowly. They both have pistols strapped to their shins, but the guy has his finger on the trigger and looks like he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot; Ryan doesn’t want to risk trying to get to his gun.

“Look,” Jeremy says placatingly, holding his hands up and taking a few steps towards the guy. “We don’t want any trouble—” He breaks off when the sound of the guy flicking off the safety cuts into the quiet dark of the parking lot.

“Back up,” he barks. Jeremy does, not looking pleased about it. “Flash drive. Now.”

“Jeremy,” Ryan says again. Jeremy’s eyes flick towards him, and Ryan shakes his head almost imperceptibly. They just need to buy themselves some time, distract the guy until one of them can disarm him—

Jeremy reaches into his pocket and pulls out the flash drive, throwing it into the air. The guy catches it, tucking it into his own pocket.

“No!” Ryan snaps. Jeremy gives him a look he can’t parse.

“There,” the guy says, smiling. Ryan wants to bash his face in. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Can we fucking go now?” Jeremy asks roughly.

There’s a tense pause, where it looks like the guy is giving it some thought. Finally, he shrugs, gesturing with the gun but not stashing it away. “Go,” he says. “If I see you back here, you both die.”

Jeremy doesn’t respond, just reaches out and snags Ryan by the arm, having to half drag him away towards the car. Ryan’s half expecting shots to ring out, but they make it out of range safely.

“What the hell was that?” he hisses, pulling out of Jeremy’s grip. “We could’ve figured something out! The whole fucking night was a waste.”

“Ryan, relax.”

“How am I supposed to relax?” Ryan demands, and then he absolutely does not shriek when the driver’s side door to Jeremy’s car crashes open.

“Take it easy, Haywood,” Joel says as he gets out of the car. “And here I thought you were supposed to be the unflappable Vagabond.”

“What are you doing here?” Ryan’s pretty sure he has a headache.

“Making a delivery,” Joel says calmly. He digs in the pocket of his rumpled suit for a moment, then tosses something at Jeremy. Ryan looks over.

It’s a flash drive.

He definitely has a headache. “What the fuck is going on.”

“Thanks, Joel,” Jeremy says, pocketing the drive and walking around to the driver’s side of the car with his arms out like he’s going to hug him.

“Nope, don’t even, don’t touch me,” Joel says promptly, backpedaling away as Jeremy laughs. “You better tell Geoff I helped you and that I’m expecting a cut of the profit.”

“You got it.”

“A big cut.”

Jeremy rolls his eyes and gets into the car, Ryan following suit as his brain chugs along to keep up.

Ryan pulls his door shut and looks over at him, a little bit in love. “You clever motherfucker.”

Jeremy beams at him.

“When’d you trade the drives off with Heyman?”

“While you were stuffing your face with those little finger sandwiches.”

“Excuse you,” Ryan says defensively, “I was not stuffing my face, I was very delicately—”

And Jeremy is kissing him.

Jeremy is kissing him and they’re not pretending for anyone anymore, so it doesn’t make sense, it doesn’t make sense but Ryan is half climbing over the center console to get a better grip on Jeremy because he’s scared this is all he’s going to get.

Jeremy kisses like he does everything: with his whole self, with all his focus, with enthusiasm, and maybe Ryan’s still a little buzzed because he’s never gotten half hard from a messy make out before. Not that he’s complaining.

Jeremy’s laughing breathlessly when they part for air, smoothing Ryan’s hair down from where he’d mussed it up in his excitement. “Sorry,” he says. “Just wanted to finally do that when we weren’t, you know, being watched by a weirdo with a gun.”

“You’re still being watched by a weirdo with a gun,” Ryan feels the need to point out.

“Who’s that?”

“Me.”

Jeremy snorts with laughter and leans in to kiss him again, then pauses. “This is,” he says. Pauses again. “This is okay, right?”

Ryan stares at him. “I’d tell you how long I’ve wanted to kiss you for, but it’d be very embarrassing and you’d never let me live it down, so.”

Jeremy looks surprised, which is fucking incredible, really. Maybe Ryan hasn’t been as obvious as he’d thought. “Really?”

“Are you kidding? Look at you.”

Jeremy lets out a disbelieving noise. “Look at me? Look at you.”

Ryan flushes faintly. From— From the alcohol, surely. “Okay, well, that’s— Shut up. Go back to the kissing.”

“Are you embarrassed?” Jeremy coos.

“Shut up. Commence with the kissing. Conversation over, less of the talking thing, more of the lips thing.”

“More of the lips thing,” Jeremy echoes, grinning.

“Shut up,” Ryan says helplessly, really starting to blush now.

Jeremy’s smile is blinding.