#ot3 bunk

[thebibliosphere]

Oh my god, this is gorgeous, and I love it! Thank you so much for tagging me!

Have y'all read Joy Demorra's Hunger Pangs yet, because if you haven't you should.

Also does anyone remember this meme? A few Novembers ago @thebibliosphere put the trio on the ot3 bunk and I feverishly sketched this up before immediately getting sick and completely forgetting all art until I got better.

But nothing can stop my love for these three!!!

Also I know Nathan doesn't go to bed a wolf every night but wolf made the meme funnier.

[flowerparrish]

🎲 Some combination of Echo/Fives/Fox for the kiss roulette >:D

23. A Kiss Induced by Alcohol/Other Substances:

Fox's head is spinning, but because he's less than one drink down--whichever one Cody handed over when Fox first turned up at 79s that he's been savoring, because it's not like Fox has credits to buy himself a second one, much less buy a round for the handful of brothers around him--because of that, he's pretty sure it's less whatever's in the drink and more some winning combination of the migraine that never seems to go away and the stim-crash that's been looming for too many cycles hitting like him a rogue speeder.

Ugh.

He feels something warm on his cheek and realizes he's slumped sideways onto whichever brother is beside him; if Fox was given a name, he barely processed it, and it's long gone from his memory now.

Someone says something, but Fox just closes his eyes and gives up, pressing closer to the brother who hasn't yet shoved him away. It's too loud, but they're warm and solid enough to nearly ground him.

An arm drops around his shoulders, and another hand drops into his hair---someone else's, he thinks, but he's not really sure. Fingers card through his curls, tugging just enough to make sparks shoot pleasantly down his spine, and Fox lets himself melt.

Eventually, he's poked-prodded-jostled to his feet, and two familiar bodies guide him out of 79s. In the relative quiet of the street outside, Fox feels some of his tension ease. "Fuck," he says. "I could kiss you."

There's a laugh from his left and a soft huff that might be amusement to his right. "Well we were just gonna dump you in one of our bunks to sleep, sir, but I'm sure we could be persuaded."

Fox knows it's a joke, but his head is spinning with some combination of exhaustion-pain-relief and these brothers may not be ones he knows, but they're familiar and safe in all the ways that matter, so he allows himself a lapse in judgment long enough to turn and press a kiss to the mouth of the one on the left, then the one on the right, smirking at the surprise on both clones' faces. "Lead the way."

--

I'm not sold on this and I wrote it while paying half attention to my Monster of the Week game, but!! Them!! My ot3. Set pre angsty canon events. The one Fox accidentally half falls asleep on first is Echo; later, Fives is the one on the left, Echo is the one on the right.

[invisibleraven]

There was Only One Bed for any OT3?

"Why did I agree to this again?" Alex asked as Reggie's truck pulled into the campground.

"Because you love us?" Willie replied.

"Because you picked paint ball last time, and bruised me so hard that Tia thought I got into a fight," Reggie added. "So you owe me, and it was my turn to pick."

"But camping?" Alex whined.

"It's hardly camping," Willie retorted. "We're in a cabin, with running water and power, not in a tent on the ground."

"I know you're like, allergic to the great wide wilderness, but suck it up and enjoy being off the grid for a hot second," Reggie said, opening up the door to the cabin.

Alex grumbled but entered the space, pleasantly surprised to see a clean little space, with a real fireplace, a stocked bookshelf, a pile of board games, and a modern looking kitchen. "Okay, fine, I can live with this for a few days."

"Cool, I'm gonna go get some firewood," Reggie said. "Wils, you wanna start on food? Lexie, you go unpack."

Willie gave a salute and Alex dragged the bags back, opening one door to find a fairly nice bathroom-thank goodness for that, because he drew the line at peeing outside. But there was only one other door, and sure enough when he opened it, there lay only one (admittedly huge) bed.

"Just. Great."

Look, being in a band, Alex was used to sharing a bunk. Or the back of a van, or a few blankets on the floor of a club, if it came to it. So he knew beggars couldn't be choosers. But he also tried to avoid sharing a bed with Reggie and Willie, two of the cuddliest motherfuckers there were who also happened to be the subjects of his nighttime fantasies.

It wasn't his fault his friends were hot okay?

Alex glanced back to the living room and wondered how much the couch would murder his back, and sighed before resigning himself to a few uncomfortable nights, and started putting away their stuff.

He came back out to the main room, but instead of finding Willie making food, he was standing looking out the window, completely enraptured. And no wonder, since when Alex went to see what was so fascinating, he got an eyeful of Reggie, chopping wood.

In his black tank, flannel tied around his waist, looking like the yummiest lumberjack there was.

"Fuck me," Alex breathed out.

"Oh I wish he would," Willie sighed, then snickered. "Come on, we got enough eye candy, let's make something to eat."

They made a simple salad and some sandwiches, but Willie also pulled out a coconut cream pie for dessert-Alex's favourite. Reggie soon came in and started the fire going, the three of them eating in front of it before starting a rambunctious game of Scrabble.

"Quilty isn't a word!" Reggie protested as Willie earned another triple word score.

"Sure it is," Willie replied.

"Use it in a sentence then," Alex retorted.

"I'm feeling positively quilty," Willie said, sticking his tongue out. "Get a dictionary if you want."

"Eh, I'm too lazy for that," Reggie said around a yawn. He looked to the dwindling embers of the fire. "Bedtime?"

They all agreed, getting ready, but Alex stood in the doorway, rubbing his socked foot into the floor as he watched Reggie and Willie take the bed. "I can stay on the couch if you two want..."

"Nonsense Lexi, plenty of room, come on," Reggie urged, patting the open space next to him.

Alex cautiously slipped into the bed, gulping as Reggie snuggled into his side, and Willie spooned his other side, the two of them drifting off almost instantly.

Alex was sure he wasn't going to sleep, too wound up by being surrounded by his crushes, but eventually their soft breathing lulled him into slumber.

It ended up being a pretty good night's sleep, thankfully without embarrassing incidents popping up in the night.

But Alex swore he was going to kill whichever one of them left the window open a crack when he discovered the giant spider crawling across the bathroom floor when he went to brush his teeth.

"Hey at least it wasn't a possum or something," Willie rationalized.

"Yeah, then you two would be trying to make it your pet," Alex grumbled as Reggie swept the spider back outside.

"We would... totally do that yeah," Reggie admitted.

Alex sighed. "And this is the real reason I came, so you two don't end up with rabies."

"I mean that's not the main reason," Willie replied. "But it was a contributing factor."

"What was the main reason then?" Alex asked, watching as the other two exchanged glances.

The answer involved the bed, the three of them, and an afternoon that was a lot more exciting then a game of Scrabble. But in the end, Alex felt positively quilty.

And he definitely had a better appreciation of camping-but he was making sure the window was closed before they went to bed that night, lest a possum actually get in.

[hils79]

Hils Watches The King's Avatar - Ep 27

Aww Baozi gets to sit this game out now that they have more players. At least he has one of his boyfriends to keep him company

I still think the terms of this game are stupid given that it's entirely voluntary

I am genuinely mad because this whole game was unnecessary beyond Sun Xiang wanting to stroke his own ego and Ye Xiu saying 'well, we've have to play against them eventually'. This was a showcase match which has now relegated them because idek why. I do not understand why Ye Xiu agreed to it under these terms. Was he so sure they were going to win?

Oh no why would you just assume you were going to win. Especially when your place in the league was on the line.

Oh thank god someone texted and the team didn't just walk back to that.

And, look, okay. They've won every game up until this point so obv they had to lose at least one to make it realistic. I'm just annoyed that the game they lost was one they didn't actually need to play.

Uh, what?

I'm a bit confused about the timescale of this. When she was talking to Mo Fan she said her dad died years ago but she and everything around her in the flashback looks the same as it is now. Like, that is clearly a modern laptop.

Look at these good sweet boys trying to cheer up their manager. But, also, how come no one has texted them to say that actually they won.

God he always has to say something. Remind me to talk about his hair some time. I have Thoughts and Opinions.

The kitty has found a kitty.

Oh my god that is not how you hold a cat. But aww he asked the kitty for advice

Oh my god is Wei Chen going to get a tattoo???

My son is...singing?? Holy shit look at him I've never seen him this relaxed and happy

Is that a fucking Peppa Pig tattoo???

LMAO it's fake!

I love her

Aww everyone went out to relax after the game and no one invited Baozi

Feeling absolutely fine and normal about this

Getting everyone to anonymously say who they think was responsible for the near-loss is going to backfire massively. They all have self-esteem issues (except maybe Baozi) so they'll all just blame themselves

I'm not going to screenshot everyone but, yep, they all blamed themselves except Mo Fan who didn't write anything down I think because he assumed everyone else would blame him

I...they...*gestures helplessly at the screen*...IN YE XIU'S BEDROOM

Lowkey mad that you can't see that Baozi is sleeping with his head on Yifan's legs. MY OT3 ARE IN A CUDDLE PILE PLEASE SEND HELP

Oh my god are they in dorms now? THE BUNK BEDS! Of course Baozi and Luo Ji are in one and Wei Chen and Ye Xiu are in another one #boyfriends

Yifan in his boyfriends' bedroom where he belongs. Even if he is trying to wake them up and make them work out with him. Yifan, I love you, but no.

Mood

Well, my son had to have one flaw and that flaw is that he is a chipper morning person. I'm with literally everyone else. Like I have to get up at 6am for work but no one had better try and talk to me until I get to the office at 8am

LOL Yifan and Luo Ji are eating breakfast, Ye Xiu has fallen asleep at the table, Wei Chen is congratulating himself on finding them a house and everyone else has left

[skrillien]

My dear waycesticles Do u have any fraycest thoughts. I miss them So bad its beginning to take a physical toll on me

not quite besides the general 'the ways are incesty and frank is into it' ship dynamic? despite being polyamorous myself, uh, i don't get super into ot3s that often? but some food for thought:

- frank is dating gerard at first, but after gerard dumps him... suddenly, mikey looks really good. (frank isn't over gerard and all the quirks habits and little things they have in common gets to him) (he's totally using mikey) (mikey is aware of it and doesn't care for one reason or another) (i need to write something of this)

- maybe before he gets with them proper, frank would hide somewhere in the bus (his bunk, the bathroom- depends how thorough they'd be in making sure they're alone) and jack off while listening to them fuck

- frank really, really wishes he was a way. it's entirely for fetish reasons because of course he had to be an only child with a sibling incest kink, but he likes to pretend to himself sometimes.

- adding onto the previous point, imagine mikey finding out and just relentlessly teasing frank about it. he'd be SUCH an asshole i just know it.

- when gerard finds out (which is probably through mikey because i just feel like that guy has the loosest lips on the planet) they're really, REALLY into indulging frank

- the first time gerard calls frank their baby brother it's completely out of nowhere and frank doesn't even know that they know. could be during sex could be in the middle of mundane everyday stuff. either way frank forgets how to function for a minute

- gerard's actually really into indulging frank's weird incest roleplay kink and starts calling him their baby brother all the time after this

- it makes mikey so jealous. unreasonably jealous. he knows gerard is just indulging frank's incest thing but in his head he's convinced frank is trying to replace him and steal all the attention

oh my god this got away from me. here you go nonny. :)

[sirsparklepants]

I started writing a witcher s2 ot3 get together back in January, and despite my optimistic working title of "operation make Geralt come dry" it never really went anywhere, much less anywhere NSFW. I do still like what I've got, though.

-

It was, frankly, a massive disappointment that the crumbling cold walls of Kaer Morhen weren't enough to justify bunking up together. Getting broken out of prison didn't exactly give one time to grab a set of luggage along the way, and so Jaskier was sadly lacking in winter gear and would have appreciated someone else to warm the narrow beds in the witchers' keep. And of course, all the inhabitants - barring, of course, Ciri, and perhaps the older, witcher, as even Jaskier thought twice about fucking his best friend's father - were quite attractive, and he'd have to be blind not to notice. True, there was a sad dearth of women, unless he wanted to brave a snowed-over mountain pass, but just because Jaskier didn't often go for men didn't mean that he couldn't recognize an attractive muscular specimen when they were right in front of him. And he went for celibacy even less than he went for men.

But alas, it was not to be. He'd carefully felt the other witchers out, as surely growing up surrounded by other men in the first froth of teenage hormones, kept from setting foot in a human town for fear of their safety, had made at least one of the witchers flexible. After all, a boys' school had made Jaskier much the same.

None of these witchers were, it turned out. Or at least, not with him - either that or they thought he really had been talking about his fretting skills. Blunt language seemed a witcher's forte, even if it certainly wasn't Jaskier's. But he didn't fancy spending the winter with a keep full of people who had bluntly rejected him. At least this way he kept his pride.

Thus, he was quite surprised to receive a visitor as he was steeling himself for another night in a cold bed. And even more to see Yennefer behind the creak of his bedroom door.

She didn't ask to be invited in - of course - only strode in wearing the mantle of her old confidence, shutting the door sharply behind her. He saw her shoulders heave with a deep breath as she held onto the iron pull for an extra moment. Then she turned to look him in the eye, clenching her hands into fists before she spoke.

"I need your help."

"No!" Jaskier said immediately. "Last time you said that I ended up watching a man getting his face bitten off from under a table. No more favors for suicidal witches!"

Yennefer rolled her eyes, but her old self wasn't in it. "Not like last time," she said. "I daresay you'll even enjoy it."

Jaskier could feel his face contort into what must have been a truly garish expression of disbelief. Certainly, they'd saved each other's lives, and their sniping had settled into the kind of comfortable bicker Jaskier could easily keep going for hours. But he couldn't imagine enjoying whatever onerous task Yennefer was trying to foist off on him with that tightness around her eyes.

"Truly," she said with a dry laugh. "It's to do with your favorite thing."

"Music?" Jaskier asked. "We both know my poor lute is languishing somewhere in Oxenfurt."

"Not music," Yennefer said, lips a little pinched. "Fucking."

Jaskier blinked. "Ah…" he said, fumbling for a response to that one. "We met at a magical orgy. I thought you had that pretty well in hand for yourself."

"I think we've both had to take things in hand recently," she said, and Jaskier barked out a slightly stunned laugh. "And I have a solution for you. I want you to fuck Geralt."

"You what?" Jaskier asked, and if his voice reached a pitch normally quite out of his range, he was simply going to be proud of his vocal flexibility. "I know you have that well in hand - and, and everywhere else, for that matter. I've seen you two, you know."

"Not any more," Yennefer said, her voice flat. "Surely you can see that he's still angry at me. But," her mouth thinned, "he's tired, Jaskier. He needs to rest. He needs, frankly, someone to wear him out enough that he can stop thinking. And if that can't be me any more, it'll have to be you."

"Am I supposed to be flattered by that?" Jaskier asked, feeling a flare of the old prickly temper Yennefer had so often evoked in him. "'Please, Jaskier, for his own good, you must find it in yourself to - roll over for your friend, as I don't have enough goodwill with anyone else in this keep to ask, despite the fact that you have no indication he's even interested in such and also that there's quite a bit of conflicted feelings to be sorted out!' Oh yes, how could I possibly enjoy that?"

"Do you think this is easy for me?" Yennefer asked, her voice crescendoing in a way that Jaskier might have found impressive under different circumstances. "Asking someone to fuck my former lover because he can't relax enough to sleep through the night but when I touch him he flinches away from me? Because it isn't. You're the only one it's even halfway tolerable to ask!"

Jaskier paused, his mouth half open. This was an endorsement he'd never expected to hear from Yennefer, of all people. "I, well, alright," he said weakly. That had rather taken the wind out of his righteous sails. He swallowed and took a moment to rally, and then held up one finger. "But! How do you know he's interested? For that matter, how do you know I am?"

Yennefer smirked at him, a little unevenly. "What, did you think your little breakup anthem was subtle?" she asked.

"Breakup anthem?" Jaskier absolutely did not squawk. "That's a truly uncharitable interpretation of my work."

"And a true one," she said. "As for Geralt, well. Let's just say that he has certain tastes sometimes best suited for your anatomy, not mine, although we more than made do." Her eyes flickered significantly downwards.

Well, that was certainly an inspiring thought. It didn't make this whole mad situation any less of a bad idea, though. Jaskier fell in love quite easily, especially when his prick was involved. To add that into the equation when he had loved Geralt as his dearest friend already - was quickly getting back there, even - had the makings of quite the disaster, and Jaskier's self-preservation instincts beat down his libido, albeit with a serious struggle.

"That doesn't mean he's interested in men, simply that he's rather more adventurous than your average senior citizen," Jaskier said, but even he could hear the weakness in his own voice.

The hesitation was obvious to Yennefer, and she gave him no quarter. "Do you think he spends the winters celibate?" she asked, smirking a little. "Our situation notwithstanding, visitors are quite the special event." Ha! Jaskier had known it had to be so.

"He's your friend, Jaskier," Yennefer said, letting her voice grow soft and peering up at him through her lashes. "And… so am I. All of this is hard enough. I just want you to make it a little easier on him, that's all."

Jaskier's heart lurched in his chest. "I do want that, of course I do," he said helplessly. "But Yennefer, I don't think this is going to work out quite the way you think."

"What else can we do?" Yennefer snapped, eyes flashing.

"I'm so glad you asked," Jaskier said, choosing to take her words at face value. "I think I have a better solution in mind."

-

As always during their stay, dinner was filled with a thrumming tension that Jaskier was sure he could touch if it grew even minutely stronger. If it were for his own sake, he was sure Geralt would have forgiven Yennefer already. He probably thought he owed her one good betrayal of her own to make up for his shocking breach of her trust, or some nonsense like that. But he was a father now, however much he'd resisted it in the past, and had taken to the protectiveness of the good ones like a duck to water.

If he were a man with slightly more scruples, Jaskier thought he might have felt bad about planning to take such shameless advantage of that. Luckily for both Geralt and Yennefer, his scruples fell easily by the wayside when sex was involved. That and the fact that he truly did care for Geralt and didn't mind in the slightest bullying him into caring for himself.

"Right," Jaskier said, as soon as Ciri had rounded the corner with two other witchers, off to play some game or another to make them all less skittish with each other. "I simply cannot take another day of this." He gestured grandly between the way Yennefer's shoulders were crawling towards her ears and the white-knuckled grip Geralt kept around his cup. "And, possibly more importantly, neither can Ciri."

"What?" Geralt asked, turning to meet his eyes.

Jaskier sighed. "You can't have missed that the girl watches your every move, Geralt," he said. "She loves you, and she wants desperately to be like you. And every time Yennefer is in the room, you watch her like she'll open a portal and summon a few of those new and improved monsters herself."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Yennefer's gaze flick downwards to her hands, but he kept his attention on Geralt.

"Do you think she doesn't deserve it?" Geralt asked, voice low and rough.

Jaskier laid one hand out on the table and opened it towards Geralt, beseeching. "It's not about deserving it or not," he said. "If you didn't trust her not to hurt Ciri, you'd find someone else to teach her, no matter the cost. Right now, all you're doing is shaking your daughter's faith in her teacher, and that's the last thing she needs when working with something as volatile as her power." (Yennefer made a noise, and Jaskier ignored it. He was well aware that all three of them had been scared of their teachers one way or another. That certainly hadn't helped turn them into healthy, functional adults.)

Geralt grunted. "So what do you expect me to do?" he asked. "She almost used Ciri for something terrible. She could have killed her. Do you expect me to just let that go?"

"No, of course not," Jaskier said. "We both know that certain wounds take a long time to heal over, if at all. No, I'm proposing something entirely different. You both need a trust-building exercise, and I have just the thing."

-

"A bath?" Geralt asked skeptically, when they made it to Jaskier's room - neutral territory, as it were.

"Yes, a bath," Jaskier said, fixing him with a determined stare. "You need to accept being vulnerable with Yennefer again, and she needs to work towards making herself trustworthy. So you're going to get naked and she's going to bathe you. And I," he said, indicating himself with a flourish of his hand, "am going to supervise, in case either of you feels like saying something nasty."

"Just supervise?" Yennefer asked, a thin veneer of sarcasm wrapped around the stiffness in her like razor wire.

"Well, if you need my expertise, I will be happy to instruct you," he said.

Geralt snorted. "Because having her dump a bucket over my head is going to make me trust her," he said.

"Oh, shut up," Jaskier said, rolling his eyes. "Yennefer, a hot bath, please. I'll help Geralt undress, since he's feeling a bit recalcitrant."

Really, Geralt didn't need his help with just shirt, pants, and boots, and they both knew it. But it let Jaskier put his hands on Geralt's shoulders and speak to him softly as Yennefer spoke some words in Elder.

"I think this will help," he said in an undertone. "At worst, it's a hot bath. I'll be here the whole time."

"Do you think that makes it better?" Geralt said nearly as softly, but there was a small upturn at one corner of his mouth.

"Of course it does," Jaskier said. "I make every situation with one's clothes off better."

Geralt gave a subvocal little chuckle, but he did let Jaskier drop to peel off his boots while he unbuttoned his shirt enough to slip it over his head, and that was about the best Jaskier could ask for.

Jaskier busied himself with his own layers, stripping down to shirtsleeves and rolling them out of the way. When he looked up, Geralt was sinking into a steaming tub with Yennefer kneeling beside, something vulnerable in her face. Jaskier stepped over to join them, pressing the large sponge beside them into Yennefer's hands.

[haru-desune]

I love that the a3! fic-writing community has collectively decided that the bunks are big enough to fit at least two people if they squish... Like Tasuku or Masumi can't sit up without bumping their heads on the ceiling but we WILL make bed sharing possible

[faorism]

obviously l:r s2 historical au should be something like a leverage crossover with mash through one of the former's historical romance episodes, with eliot/alec as center to complete the canon au triangle (but ot3 endgame). alec is a drafted surgeon working out of the 8063 instead of the 4077, parker is head nurse (the cheerleaders from that one episode are her nurses), and eliot is a frontline soldier who has gone through their mash unit so many times he's got a favorite bunk in post-op. alec is just too good at his job and keeps putting eliot back together.

sophie said fuck you to sexism and is a surgeon but the usa military machine said divrsity win fuck you back by having her drafted. lowkey everyone thinks shes also somehow a spy for the antiwar movement, or the cia, or The Communists, or?? she will never confirm nor deny.

archie (the one who convinced parker to go into nursing) made a big fuss about WWI and doing your duty, so she volunteered and she found her calling and people at the 8063, esp with alec who's friendship and eventual hardwon but sweetheart romance softened her heart. but yeah, she is not gonna be a proud vet to say the least

sterling is CO and was definitely a military brat growing up. needles eliot because hes convinced eliot keeps showing up to his mash because hes either incompetent or trying to get sent back home. probably calls sidney on eliot. eliot is just very unlucky and also wildly protective and has a martyr complex a mile long.

nate the priest volunteered because he thought it was where he was being called cuz it's where he was most needed but yeahhhhh war broke him real quick. happened over a clearly Fifteen Year Old Lied On His Paperwork sam died in post op from infection despite all of the doctors best attempts to keep this little boy alive. runs the units gin still but wishes it could be whiskey.

take your pick on what the B Plot heist/con is but A Plot is all alec and eliot being all strangers butting heads over the war (eliot volunteered and is very patriotic at first) to friends (eliot never gets mail so alec shares some of his from his giant family) to yearning crushes to lovers with parker right there falling in love with them both too. also sidney and hawkeye inexplicably show up??

[eyrieofsynapses]

you know. there is a part of me that says that long, long before there was a real inkling of romantic interest between the ot3, there became a normalcy to sleeping in the same room. hell maybe it’s not just them, it’s the whole crew.

because there were nights, almost certainly, when part of the job went down wrong. something happened. they are relatively sure they are safe. but they are not sure sure. there is just that edge of worry. 

so they don’t go to their separate rooms. maybe they’re in a hotel or a rented-out cabin or a bed-and-breakfast room, nothing too big, nothing special, so someone takes the couch and someone else (Parker, probably) curls up in an armchair and air mattresses or blankets or sleeping bags are dragged out, and it is effectively a sleepover, which Hardison and Parker take great delight in saying and to which the other three roll their eyes and call it “practicality” (even though a small part of them cannot help but enjoy it). 

to Hardison it is natural. he grew up in foster homes, in crowded bedrooms and bunk beds and even, perhaps, with Nana, rowdy sleepovers in the living room in blanket forts among stacks of worn-out stained pillows and the warm beam of a flashlight. it has been awhile since he has slept with others. but there are night when his apartment feels cold and empty instead of freeing. 

so he falls asleep to the hush of the other’s breaths and the rustle of blankets and hissed-out whispers and barely registers the hard floor beneath the thin sleeping bags and blankets. 

it does not come so naturally to Nate, who has never really done this much. sleepovers with friends to escape his father, maybe, but they were not restful nights. he lies awake for hours sometimes and stares at the ceiling and tries not to think too much of Sam’s soft baby breaths in the crib, of the weighty warmth and brush of flannel pajamas of a small child tucked between himself and Maggie with the roll of thunder and flicker of light past the heavy curtains. 

and Sophie too is a little unused to this. whatever her childhood was, she has not slept in roomfuls of people for many years, not outside of someone else in her bed for less platonic purposes. but she knows these people. she knows how they tick. she knows she’s safe with them. so even past racing thoughts sleep finds her a little more easily than she thought it would. 

Eliot is often the one to insist they sleep together. he says it is practical, it is important, it is the way to guarantee that he can keep all of them safe for any break-in or hitman or trouble. and he isn’t wrong. he’s grumpy about it and the others resist but Sophie is the one to back him up, and it is not only because she agrees. it is because she sees how the tension in his shoulders and collected at the corners of his eyes drains away when he has them all in sight. 

so he finds the most vulnerable place in the room, the windows and more often doorways (typically instigating arguments over the freedom to leave, because some of us need to use the bathroom, but he wins out of sheer stubborness, and because no matter how many times he’s accidentally kicked awake by someone he will not move), and he sleeps lightly in clothing that he can fight in. it pays off more than once. 

(and even if he won’t admit it, he finds it comforting much the way Hardison does. there is something familiar in laying in a roomful of fellow comrades. occasionally, though he will not admit it to anyone but himself, in the early muggy hours of the morning, with the lay of fog over his sleepy mind, he mistakes--for an instant--the sleeping forms of the crew for men and woman dressed in army greens and wrapped in sleeping sacks. the light filtering through ugly-patterned curtains becomes sunlight warming a tent. rocky ground replaces hardwood floor and lumpy blankets.

the familiarity does not mean his breath does not catch in momentary panic. but it goes steady again at the memory that either way, these people are his.) 

and then there is Parker. who was a lone wolf. who fears other people for her awkwardness, for their mystifying and overly-complex expectations and ideas. 

Parker, who slept curled in alleyways with other kids to keep warm and made her bed in foster homes and garage back rooms and abandoned apartment complexes and a hundred other places in her childhood, because running in packs meant safety in numbers. 

a group meant that the noise of an incoming police patrol or gang or predator was that much more likely to be heard and seen. a group meant warmth. a group meant multiple kids to fight an attacker. a group meant more knowledge of good places to get food and the best pickpocketing spots and things that meant another day more of freedom. 

a group meant competition, and too many people to hide in one spot, and stuff being stolen from each other, and too easy to be caught. a group meant many things, not all good, not all bad. 

ever since she was able, Parker avoided communal sleeping spaces. she sleeps lightly, anyway, able to wake in an instant and run before the enemy so much as time to blink. but she has not always slept alone. 

more than that, she knows these people. she knows they will not attack her in the night. she knows they will not shake her roughly awake and make her panic. she knows them and they know her as well as someone can. 

so she makes sure she’s not too close but not too far, somewhere where she can see the whole room (and if this is often coincidentally close to Eliot no one mentions it) and can bolt if she needs to. and Parker? Parker sleeps deeper than she has in years.  

[fanartfunart]

#also fan you have to let me know if links face is still on the punching bag#do you think link would mention it or would it just be too awkward to mention#would groose play dumb about it or would he tease him about it

If you look closely, it's a tiny Imprisoned that has replaced the Link. If it *was* link's face though, I'm like, pretty sure he'd eventually mention it, and Groose would probably play dumb lolol.

#I love their ot3 bed#who do you think sleeps on the top? do they switch?#if groose ever sleeps on the top he ABSOLUTELY suplexes link awake#he would

He would yes. But my intentions was that Zelda would typically be on the top bunk lol. I'm sure Groose and Link are both bed hogs so they need the bigger portion to fight over :P

[Image Description: A colored digital drawing of an open-plan house based off Skyward Sword, with bright earthy colors. In the closest half is Link, Groose and Zelda. Link is sitting at a desk, whittling a small sculpture of a Kikwi, looking up at Groose with a smile. Groose has an arm on Link’s head, gesturing with the other, looking prideful, as he leans on Link. Zelda has a hand on one hip and his holding a book in the other, looking back at the other two with a smile. The house has various elements from the trio’s knight acadamy rooms, including Goose’s punching bag, Link & Zelda’s desks, and other items. A bunk bed with a full sized bed on the bottom and a twin on the top is in the corner near the door, and a dining table sits in the middle of the room. A kitchen is in an alcove. There are two detail images. End ID]

I decided to design a house on the surface for the Skyward Sword Trio. Lots of tiny little details and a fun practice in perspective.

Happy Anniversary to LoZ :3

[im-the-king-of-the-ocean]

I was going to save this until tomorrow morning, but then I remembered I have stuff to do in the morning and I’ll be traveling again, soooo gonna finally get this fic officially rolling tonight.

*Originally I was going to call this fic ‘The Romancing of Ruby Rose,’ but I didn’t really like how it just focused on Ruby when it’s a Bright Eyes OT3 fic, so I decided to make a last minute change.

*this fic is based off a set of three asks sent to me by @misstrashchan, the first being:

Oscar's learnt how to pick up on Ruby's emotions better than most in a short time. So he doesn't fail to notice how hard Ruby- and it appears Penny as well- are crushing on one another. He tries to encourage Ruby to ask Penny on a date, but for some reason, they keep bringing him along.

and now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for!

.

How to Grow a Romance in 3 Easy Steps

Step 1: Planting Rose Seeds in the Garden

I fell in love with her the moment I saw her silver eyes.

A shiver runs up Oscar’s spine.  He stares at the last line of the story, as if the intensity of his gaze will make it change to something else entirely.  His stomach twists uncomfortably into knots.  Oscar can imagine, far too easily, what it feels like to fall in love with a silver-eyed person.  The way one’s heart skips a beat.  The rush of heady emotions.

He’d chosen to read this book of fairytales to forget about his problems for an hour or two (and maybe find a deeper understanding of Ozpin along the way, since it was Oz who collected the stories for the book once upon a time).  Not to be reminded of his woes.

Oscar sighs.  He closes the book with a light thump, tosses it to the side, lies on his back, and stares at the ceiling.  When they were first getting settled, Jaune had given him the choice of top or bottom bunk in their Atlas dorm room.  Oscar chose the top.  It gave him a little more privacy, distance, from his teammates.  Oscar likes Jaune, Nora, and Ren, they’ve become his friends, but they can be a bit much at times too.

There are times, like now, where Oscar enjoys being able to think without being asked what he’s thinking about.  He’s not quite sure how that conversation would go, and he’s not eager to find out.  There are far more important things they need to focus on than something as insignificant as a puppyish crush.  He never even considered romance an option before leaving his aunt’s farm.  He shouldn’t now.

Because, because it doesn’t matter how he feels about Ruby.  Not in the slightest.  Ruby doesn’t feel the same way about him.  He doesn’t make her heart race.  She doesn’t smile softly, tenderly at him.  Not like she does at…

Oscar rolls over and groans into his pillow.  It would be much easier to endure if it were literally anyone else who managed to gain Ruby’s affection.  Literally.  Anyone.  Else.  ANYONE.

Other than Penny Polendina.

Oscar hadn’t known her before, at Beacon, like everyone else had.  After talking to them, he found out Jaune, Nora, and Ren hadn’t known Penny too well either back then.  She’d been closer to Team RWBY, and especially Ruby.  Oscar had wondered, after witnessing how Penny and Ruby just looked at each other, if there’d been something more between them back at Beacon.  He’d asked.  His three teammates looked between themselves and admitted they didn’t actually know.

Although JNPR and RWBY were close in their academy days, some things still didn’t leave their respective teams, Jaune explained.  It wasn’t until after the Fall that they’d learned that Ruby had known Penny’s true nature for quite some time before the tragedy in the arena, for instance.  They kept their own secrets too.  Ren and Nora had revealed their past to Jaune, and their late teammate, Pyrrha, but not to RWBY.

(Pyrrha Nikos, for the record, remains an entirely separate topic Oscar isn’t sure how to think about.  He knows none of his friends consider him her replacement on Team JNPR.  Even though his name technically has a ‘P’ in it and Ironwood was more than willing to register him as the new fourth member of JNPR in Atlas’s databases, they’d instead insisted on calling themselves ORNJ.  It causes some confusion since Jaune is still the team leader, but, for them, it works.  Both to represent who they are now and keep the memory of who they were then in tact.)

Back to the point, if there were anyone (outside of Ruby), to choose to have a crush on, Oscar completely understands why Penny would be that choice.  She’s like no one else he’s ever met, and not just because of the robot thing.  Okay, yeah, the fact she can fly is pretty cool.  But, more than that, she’s sweet.  She’s one of the most kind-hearted souls he’s ever met.  

Most importantly, Penny doesn’t see Oscar as just the boy who’d tagged along with her actual friends because their old headmaster had taken up residence in his head.  She sees him as a potential new friend in his own right.  She’s gone out of her way to make him feel welcome in Atlas.  She didn’t really have to do that.  Especially not when she’s so busy herself being Protector of an entire city.

It makes it impossible to dislike her.  And really, it’s flat out unfair to dislike someone just because the person you happen to have a crush on has a crush on them anyway.

A part of Oscar wishes he did dislike Penny.  That part of him is convinced that, if he were just to channel all his heartbreak over not being the one to catch Ruby’s eye into negative emotions for her, it would be easier to cope.  Every other part of him knows it wouldn’t be.  Not truly.  Not in any way that counts.

Oscar’s scroll vibrates.  He sighs to himself, but reaches over to pick it up to read whatever message has been sent to him.

Text from Ruby Rose:

Hey Oscar, later me and Penny are gonna to go to that arcade that you told me FNKI told you to check out, wanna come?

Oscar stares at the text as one minute passes by, then another, and a third after that.  Yes, he’d told Ruby about the arcade.  Team FNKI had told his team about it after one of their training bouts.  It was apparently one of FNKI’s favorite places to unwind and destress.  He’d told Ruby about it because he knew how much she enjoyed video games.

(He figured it could probably be a great place for some kind of first date between her and Penny, as well.  At least, that’s where Oscar would have taken Ruby if he’d ever been able to ask her out.)

(Look, if Oscar is never going to get his chance to admit his true feelings, the least the two of them could do is just go out with each other already.  Ruby and Penny really have no subtlety whatsoever in masking their emotions and he wants them, both of them, to be happy.)

Oscar had even encouraged Ruby that maybe Penny would enjoy going to to the arcade with her, as gentle nudge in the right direction, when he told her about it.  She’d been receptive to the idea.  Oscar had been happy to see Ruby so excited (sure he couldn’t be her, or Penny’s, happiness, but he could bring them together so they could be that for each other).

But now they want him to come with them.  And third wheel their date.

Unless they don’t consider it a date?  Which, okay sure, knowing them, they probably don’t.  But still.

For the first time in his life, Oscar wishes he’d paid just the slightest bit more attention to his aunt’s gossip on the going-ons of the closest town to their farm.  None of it was particularly interesting, but a lot of it did seem to revolve around who should be in a relationship with who.  Maybe some random tidbit from back then may have now proven helpful in figuring out this current situation of his.

A quiet voice in Oscar’s mind (one that’s definitely his own and not Ozpin) reminds him its not his job to play matchmaker between his friends.

(Though, he does need to direct his restless crush emotions somewhere and ensuring Ruby and Penny’s future happiness seems a good a place as any.)

Oscar grumbles to himself.  He’s about to type out a reply saying, no, he’ll be busy, he can’t come.  Sure, he would like to, because he does enjoy spending time with them, but he’s not certain he should.

He gets another message before he can send his out.

Text from Penny Polendina:

Ruby said she already invited you to the arcade, but I just wanted to say I’d be excited if you come too!  More friends = more fun!!!

Oscar knows he can still say ‘no’.  He doesn’t have to go just because Penny has now asked him too.  But she’s his friend, and he cares about her (a lot), and she gets so little time off to spend with friends, any friends, including him.  If she and Ruby aren’t seeing this outing as a date anyway?  Well, then he can just let that be something he figures out how to push them toward later.

After taking a deep breath, Oscar messages back asking after details, like when exactly in the day they were planning on going.

[jaimebluesq]

Zonghui takes the top bunk when there might be danger afoot or anytime he thinks he might be pulled away by work.

Yanli takes the top bunk whenever her brothers are visiting - when there's a knock at the door and a "Xianxian is three and needs his Shijie", she needs to answer immediately lest Wei Wuxian jump into bed with them.

Huaisang takes the top whenever he stays up too late writing to his Little Birds, but is forced there on the rare occasions he gets whiny/bratty with them (not rare for the rest of the world, he's just less so with his lovers).

[heytheredeann]

Fragile things, helpless things, broken things

Tags: Post-Canon, Gen or Pre-OT3, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Gaby Has Issues, Napoleon Is Mostly Very Tired, Illya Is A Space-heater And A Pillow And He Loves It

Summary: Restless nights just come with the job.

Notes: Written for the "Paranoia" prompt from day 18 of Whumptober. The title is from "Eight" by Sleeping At Last, which is an extremely rude song that I love very much.

.

.

He has not slept enough, that much is apparent from the way his head aches and the darkness still surrounding him when he startles awake.

Wonderful, really wonderful.

He’d thought, when he climbed still half-dressed into his bed and let his face sink into the pillow, that he’d be exhausted enough to get at least six hours of sleep, to wake up in the early morning at most.

But no, of course not, he had to find himself lying on his back, unease creeping under his skin as he can’t help remembering that they are holed up in a safehouse waiting for extraction and, really, there’s always a chance that they will be ambushed during the night. What better moment to get the better of three spies, right? They are tired enough that gunshots probably wouldn’t even wake them.

He shakes his head lightly, thinking You’re being stupid, Solo, you are as safe as you can get, but he stills anyway, his eyes on the bottom of Gaby’s mattress. She took top bunk without asking, as soon as she stepped into the room, and Napoleon was too tired to even argue for the hell of it, as he normally would.

His ears try to tune to the sound of her breathing, light and barely audible even in the silent room but still bringing some comfort: if he can hear that, there’s probably nothing else to hear.

He stretches his legs, his muscles feeling annoyingly numb: he’d like to get up, walk around the safehouse a little, clear his head, but there’s Illya sleeping in the twin bed on the other side of the room, and he’d definitely hear him.

Though, in all honestly, that makes it sound even a little more tempting, because Napoleon is a selfish bastard and he’d really like to chat his paranoia away at the moment.

Before he can decide how much of an asshole he truly is, though, he turns his head and makes out the shape of Illya’s bed, which is very much empty.

Uh.

Well.

No reason not to get up then, it seems he wouldn’t be the first.

(He ignores the instinctive spike of fear he feels at the sight, attributing the shudder running up his spine to Norway being too fucking cold and the safehouse needing some decent heating.)

[More on Ao3]

[randomestfandoms-ocs]

hiiii i'm on a merlin high right now so i'd love to see a brotp or wbw with any of your merlin ocs! ❤️

why not both!!!  Let’s talk about Lynette since she’s the most developed!

B A S I C S

full name: Lynette Starfall

gender: female

sexuality: bi

pronouns: she/her

O T H E R S

family: Elaine Starfall (mother), Mark Starfall (father)

birthplace: Unknown

job: n/a

phobias: suffocation

guilty pleasures: sweet cakes

M O R A L S

morality alignment?: chaotic good

sins - lust/greed/gluttony/sloth/pride/envy/wrath

virtues - chastity/charity/diligence/humility/kindness/patience/justice

T H I S - O R - T H A T

introvert/extrovert

organized/disorganized

close minded/open-minded

calm/anxious

disagreeable/agreeable

cautious/reckless

patient/impatient

outspoken/reserved

leader/follower

empathetic/unemphatic

optimistic/pessimistic

traditional/modern

hard-working/lazy

R E L A T I O N S H I P S

otp: Lynette x Arthur

ot3: Lynette x Arthur x Merlin

brotp: Lynette & Merlin

notp: Lynette x Uther

Send me “World Building Wednesday” and an OC and I’ll tell you

who steals french fries off the other’s plate: N/A

who jokingly moves in for the kiss when someone asks if they’re a couple: Lynette

who has to bust or bail the other out of jail: Lynette uses her influence to get Merlin out of trouble

who gives the other advice/comfort about dating issues: Lynette tries lmao

who shamelessly cheats at games by reaching over to cover the other’s eyes: Lynette

who immediately calls dibs on the top bunk: N/A

who starts and who wins the pillow fights: N/A

who says “your pants would look better on their floor” to the other’s potential crush: Merlin but he’s like really deadpan about it

Brotp Ask Meme

[otp-imagines-cult]

Imagine your OT3 is given a bunk bed to share. Person A wants the top bunk and Person B wants the bottom bunk, but Person C wants to share a bed with both of them. Eventually they all decide to share one bunk together, even though they’re a little crowded.

[smallblueandloud]

fsk is a nerdy ot3 of nerds, change my mind

Fitz chooses this moment to come out of the shower in a ratty t-shirt that looks like it’s from one of Jemma’s biology conferences and boxer shorts. Jemma turns to him. “Your wife has ready Tiffany Aching and hasn’t told us!”

Fitz looks at Jemma, turns to Daisy, and looks back at Jemma. “What?”

“Your wife-”

“Isn’t she your wife too?”

“Not when she doesn’t tell me that she’s read Pratchett!” says Jemma, crossing her arms. Fitz grins, shaking his head, and comes over to the side of the bed where Daisy’s sitting.

“Hi,” she says, and Fitz leans in to kiss her softly. “Hi,” he says. “I missed you.”

He leans over Daisy to where Jemma’s sitting up on the headboard and kisses her, too. “I missed you too, love.”

“We missed you too,” says Daisy. Jemma smiles at Fitz, and pulls him in to kiss him again, enjoying the feeling of having both of them close to her.

When Fitz pulls back, he turns to Daisy, who’s been watching them with quiet attention. “Hey, love, where did you get that book?” he asks. “Jemma, you don’t own Wyrd Sisters, right?”

“No,” she says. The best part of their getting together, in her opinion, was the merging of their respective libraries. (Well, maybe the second best part.) But she remembers distinctly his whining about their lacking most of the Witches and also Small Gods, which is his personal favorite.

Daisy blushes. “I was told not to tell on threat of severe physical harm.”

Jemma raises an eyebrow. Fitz just looks confused. “Who doesn’t want the base to know that they own Discworld novels?”

Daisy shrugs, glancing up at the ceiling. Jemma thinks she looks a little too innocent.

“Someone who wants to keep her reputation of being a stone cold badass,” she says. “And who definitely doesn’t want anyone to know that she has direct and regular access to Coulson’s books, located in his bunk.”

Oh, thinks Jemma. She’s not going to say anything about it, obviously - she’s not stupid enough to risk-

“May lent them to you?” says Fitz. Jemma and Daisy frantically shush him, in unison.

“You don’t know if she’s-”

“She’s just back from a mission, that means she’ll be walking the hallways for a few hours-”

“I still have to train with her-”

Fitz laughs, grabbing Jemma’s hand in one of his and Daisy’s in the other. He brings them up to his face and holds them against his cheek. Both of them stop talking.

(other installments of them being absolute nerds who are in love)