#this can be a ship post but also a friendship post

[gabbyclarkeytv]

The dog and the postwoman

-Pairing: Arthur TV x female!reader

(Also friend!Bambino Becky and friend!George Clarke)

Summary: Y/n is a newish YouTuber who gets invited to join a ChrisMD pub golf video, alongside her newfound crush. The pair are subtly teased throughout by the other members, who ship them.

-Slow burn fluff, strangers to friends to… something more? Lots of flirting, exchanged glances, light touches, almost-kisses.

-Warnings: alcohol, swearing, innuendoes, mentions of vomit (not graphic at all)

-Word count: 9,537 words

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Commenter 1: omg did you see the way Arthur looked at y/n?????

——> Commenter 2: Fr fr he was smitten

Commenter 3: get y/n and Arthur in a team next time Chris

Commenter 4: y/nTV is going to happen I’m calling it now!!!!!!

Just a few comments flooding in ChrisMD’s latest video, this one with yt/n’s pub golf debut:

Y/n was quite new to the content creator scene. She created a few vlogs and reaction videos here and there with little to no views, despite her efforts and good content. Her TikToks were the same. Until one day one YouTube video exploded, her subscriber count grew, alongside TikTok followers. All of a sudden one George Clarke would comment on one of her TikToks, and she slowly became good friends with him. Their friendship became more well known after guest starring on the Useless Hotline podcast. Following that, she collaborated with BambinoBecky on her own channel.

Through George and Max, y/n met ChrisMD and Arthur Hill, and that’s how she wound up on one of Chris’s pub golf videos.

There was no particular theme to this pub golf video, until the costumes came out of course. With Calfreezy as the usual referee, dressed in usual ref attire, the pairs and costumes were as follows:

Arthur TV and Chip in dog onesies, AKA ‘Bone Appetite’

ChrisMD and George in pickle costumes, AKA ‘Team Gherkings’

Y/n and Becky dressed as post-women, AKA ‘The Fe-mails’

This is y/n’s first time meeting Arthur, Cal, and Chip, but she was quite nervous about meeting the Arthur TV after he’d been so hyped up by George and Arthur Hill.

With Arthur turning up later (as usual) they didn’t get a chance to properly meet each other, aside from quick ‘hellos’ and name introductions before the filming began. If she was honest, y/n was always intrigued by Arthur, both from his content and the anecdotes she’d heard from George, Chris, and Arthur Hill. What she didn’t know was that Arthur was also very interested in meeting her, loving her content after being shown it by George and Chris on separate occasions. “You’d love her” they’d say.

When y/n and Becky pose for their team introduction in the video, y/n feels a little shy with the eyes and cameras on her in the open public, but she mentally prepared for this beforehand and perseveres. Becky has her arms folded, whereas y/n is holding some prop envelopes up whilst smiling at the camera. “That’s perfect!” Chris giggles. Stepping out of shot ready for Cal’s referee posing, y/n locks eyes with Arthur after feeling him looking, and almost immediately, Arthur diverts his gaze, embarrassed.

Chip and Arthur step in frame for their clip, Arthur’s eyes kept finding their way to y/n, which she swears she can see in the corner of her view while she chats with Becky. Y/n and Becky then turn to watch the boys, and y/n meets Arthur’s gaze again and this time, she gives him a small smile before he can look away. His eyebrows slightly raise for a brief moment before he grins back, his sweet eyes squinting. “Ready mate?” Chip suddenly asks him, snapping Arthur out of his short daze. They pose, Arthur softly smiling to the camera whilst Chip pants with his hands up T-Rex style, making Arthur laugh and shake his head. All of this gets caught in their slow-mo introduction footage, making it both charming and funny.

Arthur looks to y/n again, still chuckling, and was delighted to see that she too was laughing at Chip’s antics. ‘Good to know we have a similar sense of humour’, he thinks to himself.

“He fancies you I recon,” Becky whispers to y/n, giving her a smirk and a slight elbow nudge. Y/n turns to Becky, eyes widening.

“What- Who?” she replies. Although she knows who Becky meant, she is just baffled to hear it. Before Becky could repeat herself, Arthur and Chip join them, as George and Chris step up for their shot. Arthur steps next to y/n. Y/n scoffs at the ‘Gherkings’ as they both flex at the camera, finding their pose choice amusing despite their outfits. “Those divvies,” Arthur chuckles, adding to y/n’s amusement as he leans more towards her. She giggles and adds “Should’ve called themselves prick-les,” her comment eliciting a hearty laugh from Arthur. His elbow brushes against her upper arm as he leans back, catching her off guard as she realises how close they’re standing.

She feels her heart race as she smiles to the ground awkwardly, Arthur also looks down and takes a small step back, feeling his cheeks burn. Becky gives y/n another small nudge with her elbow as she lowly lets out an “Oi oi.”

“Guys,” Chris calls out, catching everyone’s attention, “we just have to do the one-to-one questions and then we’re ready to start!”

Chris is up first as the cameraman asks how drunk he’ll get. He gives his usual answer of saying he’ll be plastered. George is next, then Chip, then Arthur.

“Well, if we’re talking dog years, I’ll be drunk seven times sooner. Or later?” Arthur answers, giving a cheeky chuckle at the camera. Y/n overhears and smiles at his cute joke. She already thought he was cute in his videos, but seeing his behaviour in person just solidifies it.

Becky’s up next, saying she’ll smash it and proudly states that she’s a girl who can handle her drink. Y/n, not so much, realising what she’s got herself into as she steps up into shot. “How do you think you’ll fare today?” the cameraman asks.

“I’m a lightweight,” she starts, “but I’ll promise to deliver-“ then awkwardly laughs at her lame joke, hiding her face behind her prop envelope and shaking her head with embarrassment.

“Oh y/n!” Becky shouts, laughing herself, “And this is you sober, we’re screwed!” Y/n joins her teammate, whispering an awkward apology for what she just witnessed. Arthur on the other hand, finds her joke adorable. Becky puts an arm round her, about to say some reassurance before Chris calls to the group.

“Right, that’s all done,” he shouts, clasping his hands together, looking to the camera that just filmed their mini interviews, “let’s all head to the first pub.” The rest of the crew all grab their cameras and start recording as the group starts walking.

The pairs talk amongst themselves for a bit, mostly small talk while the camera crew get shots of them walking. Chris talks to one camera with George up ahead, leaving the Fe-Mails and Bone Appetite to gather together behind.

“So y/n,” Chip starts, “is this your first pub golf video?”

“Yeah it is,” y/n replies smiling, “this is my first collab out in the public too, and with this many people.” Chip and Arthur both nod. The camera man puts the camera on them, catching the conversation that follows.

“She’s a lightweight as well,” Becky chimes in, eliciting an ‘uh-oh’ from Chip. “She got tipsy on our video together and she barely drank!” Becky continues as the others chuckle.

“I remember seeing that!” Arthur adds with enthusiasm, looking to y/n as he walks his way closer to her. “I’m sorry but you’re not surviving today!”

The cameraman moves to Cal, who’s walking at the back to make sure no one falls over already or insults the crew, either action earning them a shot or a point for their team.

Knowing she’s off camera, Becky gently clasps her hand over the mic attached to her shirt collar and leans to y/n’s ear. “He definitely fancies you, Arthur does. I can tell,” she whispers with a grin. Y/n just shakes her head with a shy smile.

Chip and Arthur look behind to the girls whispering, then to each other, shrugging with confused smiles. They walk slightly further ahead and Chip looks over his shoulder at them. “The chemistry is mad already bro,” he quietly says to Arthur. Arthur looks at him and furrows his eyes in confusion.

“Those two?” he questions, leaning his head towards Chip to hear him better.

“No bro, you and y/n. Don’t tell me you don’t feel it.” He clarifies, giving Arthur a tap on his shoulder.

Before Arthur can attempt to protest, they reach the first pub. Taking seats outside, the teams sit opposite each other and Cal grabs himself a seat at the end of the table. On one side of the table is George, Arthur, and Becky; the other side dons Chris, Chip, and y/n. Y/n and Arthur are both silently thankful to not be sat together at first, as neither creator wants the other to feel any rising heat, especially after the conversations they both just had. Unfortunately for both of them, they realise they are right in each other’s line of sight, and the cameras might pick up on any awkward exchanged glances.

The pints are brought to the table by a couple of crew members, with one pint placed in front of each participant. “Right, the rules for the first game are simple,” Cal bellows to the camera facing him, “Each player must down as much of their pint as possible within 10 seconds. The pair with the most beer drank gets 1 point, the next team gets two points, and the slowest drinkers earn 3 points.” The cameramen capture shots of the creators listening to the rules and close-up shots of the beers. Cal continues: “If a player spills any drink, fall over, or pukes, they earn either an additional point or can instead take a shot as a forfeit.”

The girls go first, Becky downing her drink almost perfectly. She leaves a little foam at the bottom, and Chip and Arthur try arguing that the drink is incomplete, but Cal allows it to count as an empty drink. Y/n wraps her hand around her glass, looking to Becky as she says “I’m so sorry,” with a sheepish smile before gulping as much as she can, leaving the pint glass with about a third of beer left when her 10 seconds are up. She sets her glass down and wipes her lips, frowning and shaking her head at the bitter flavour.

“We’ve got this in the bag bro!” Arthur chuckles as he smirks to Chip, giving him a hi-five.

“Yeah, you’re shit y/n!” Chip joins in, causing the table to laugh at his sudden unnecessary comment.

“Woah, manners Chip!” George retorts.

“Rude!” Becky shouts, feigning an offended face to Chip.

“No offence y/n!” Arthur adds with a cheeky grin, locking eyes with her. She secretly adores hearing him say her name.

“None taken Arthur,” she returns with a big smile, Arthur feeling his face burn, also loving the way his name rolls off her tongue.

The dogs are next up to play. Arthur goes first, using his two handed grip and only just downing the pint in one within the time limit, leaving no foam behind. Chip hi-fives him again, shouting “Yes brother!” Arthur proudly beams, looking down at his lap before his eyes quickly dart up to y/n, seeing she’s smiling whilst still looking at his completely empty pint glass. “Here we go, bone appetite!” Chip declares as he downs his drink, leaving just a small amount at the bottom of the glass.

“Well we’ve lost then!” Becky laughs, faking anger and slamming her hands in the table. Y/n is about to protest before realising George’s turn is next and he’s a drinking machine. George confidently grasps his drink. “Ah we’re cooked!” Chip murmurs to Arthur. George effortlessly gulps his drink down with 3 seconds to spare, cockily exhaling as he slams his glass down.

Chris is up next, gesturing a cheers towards George before downing his pint. “Look at the way he grips that thaing!” Arthur calls out in a slight accent, causing Chris to jerk his head forward to giggle and spill a couple of drops of beer onto the table. “Oh! Spillage!” Arthur shouts gleefully as he points at the new stains. Cal looks to Chris with his mouth open and the camera zooms in on the table. Chip and y/n are laughing as Becky shouts “Waaay!”. Both Chris and George argue with Cal that it’s unfair for them to get penalised as Arthur made him laugh. Cal coldly looks to them both and states “Spill’s a spill Chris, do you want to take a shot or a pint.”

Chris rolls his eyes and asks for a shot. Amongst the spilling drama, Chris didn’t finish his pint, leaving it half empty and starting off the scores as:

Bone Appetite: 1 point

The Fe-Mails: 2 points

Gherkings: 3 points

As the group head off to the next pub, Arthur jogs his way up to y/n. “I’m sorry for my comment before,” he starts, smiling at the floor sheepishly, “when you finished your drink.”

“Oh that’s okay, I didn’t take offence to either of you, don’t worry!” Y/n replies, giggling quietly at his sweet apology.

“OK, good!” Arthur chuckles, feeling relieved, “I have a habit of dishing out insults when I…” he stops himself for a second, “get to know someone.” he ends, thinking on his feet.

Y/n shrugs, trying to look nonchalant, “I enjoy the banter, I’m the same.” She replies.

Arthur beams as he looks to his crush. “I see, what else do you enjoy?” They start exchanging interests, followed by facts about science, animals, anything really as they continue leading the group towards their next destination.

Behind them, Chip and Becky walk with George. “Bro’s in love” Chip says as he gestures ahead, a little too loud, but the pair at the front are in their own world and don’t hear. Becky and George agree, giggling. “I think she feels the same way,” Becky replies with a genuine smile.

Behind the trio, Cal and Chris are being filmed from behind while they talk, the angle capturing all the players in one frame.

Chip jogs forward to join Arthur and y/n. “What are you two nerds yappin’ about?” he asks them as he wraps an arm round Arthur’s shoulder.

“Nerds?!” Arthur fake cries.

Simultaneously, y/n replies with “Space,” with a grin. A crew member joins to record them, walking backwards ahead of them, capturing the three in frame.

“Nice. Y/n, you feelin’ lightheaded yet?” Chip directs towards her, leaning forwards to look past Arthur. Arthur turns his head to her too, intrigued.

“Honestly, a little,” y/n replies.

“REALLY?” Arthur exclaims. His eyes widely looking down at her, his lips curled up a little. “Goodness, you really are a lightweight!”

Y/n laughs, “Yeah, it’s bad isn’t it. I feel bad for Becky really!”

“‘Least we’re guaranteed second place ey bro?” Chip says, tightening his grip round Arthur’s shoulder.

“You’re not wrong there!” Arthur chuckles

“You boys are mean!” Y/n retorts playfully.

The group reaches the second pub. Outside there are only tables of four. Y/n and Becky sit opposite each other first. Arthur and Chip join them. This time, Arthur bravely sits beside y/n, their arms touching. Y/n looks at their arms, observing the closeness. She begins feeling wary of the cameras and doesn’t want to come across as having a schoolgirl crush (which wouldn’t be wrong). As the others take their seats and chat, Arthur notices y/n’s slight change in demeanour and bumps her gently with his arm. “You okay?” he whispers as he leans his face towards hers, hoping his quiet words reach her ear and no one else’s.

She thinks fast, “I’m all good thanks, just dreading what we’ll be put through next,” she awkwardly giggles, turning her head to look at him only to almost brush noses. She didn’t initially realise how close his face was when he whispered just before. They both go wide eyed and lean away from each other, Arthur clearing his throat and sheepishly apologising, looking to his lap with a small smile. “You’re all good” y/n quietly giggles in response, looking down too, to avoid any risk of someone seeing her definitely reddening cheeks.

“So, in this round, each team member has to feed the drink to their teammate.” The pairs glare at each other, y/n and Becky giving each other a nod. Cal continues: “One player must stand with their hands on their hips, as their teammate stands behind them, with their arms through the player’s arms,” he manhandles Chris for demonstration. Turning Chris around and forcing his hands on his hips, Cal then loops his hands through as if his arms are now Chris’s and mimes holding a drink up to Chris’s lips. This earns nods amongst the other players, followed by ‘oh’s. “They then switch,” Cal explains further, “And the team with the lowest collective time it takes to finish their drinks, gains the least amount of points.”

George and Chris go first. “Here we go, turn around darling” George smirks to Chris as he spins him by his hips. Chris giggles high pitched, flapping his arms in a fake shy manner, causing the others to laugh. They do a terrible job, Chris keeps pulling his head away from the pint glass to tell George off for pouring too fast. “Shut up and take it!” George kept replying, giving the female viewers more treats with his choice of wording. It takes them just under a minute for Chris to finish his drink.

They switch, George offering Chris a hand. When Chris looks to him confused, George says: “I thought you’d want help climbing onto the bench so you can reach around me properly.” The group chuckle, including Chris as he rolls his eyes. They do better this way around, but mostly due to George’s drinking skills.

The other teams watch on from their table. Arthur leaning past y/n slightly so he can get a good view. She can feel his breath slightly fanning on the back of her ear, but team Gherking’s entertaining performance is distracting enough for her to not get too flustered. Chip gives Becky a subtle “Oop” and when she turns back to look at him, he gestures his head towards y/n and Arthur. From their angle, the pair are sat so close. Arthur’s elbow is resting on the table, his hand sat next to y/n’s side. His upper body is twisted toward her, his chest slightly pressed to her right shoulder. Any public onlookers would assume they’re a couple. Becky looks back to Chip and rolls her eyes with a beaming smile. Their chemistry already was undeniable, although a bit of liquid confidence may be part of the reason.

Arthur and Chip are next, stepping into shot. Chip stands behind Arthur as Cal passes a pint to him. “Uh Chip, what’s that in your pocket?” Arthur jokingly asks.

“You don’t wanna know bro” Chip replies. They do a fantastic job, Chip very gently tilting the pint more and more as Arthur gulps. Already he drinks the pint twice as fast as George and Chris’s first go. They switch places.

“What’s that massive thing poking my ass?” Chip shouts, turning to y/n and giving her a subtle wink with a smirk, being careful to not get caught by any of the cameras.

“Oh my word!” Arthur calls out in shock, followed by a chuckle as he shakes his head. Y/n laughs as she leans her head down into her arms resting on the table. She’s terrified of the cameras picking up any possible redness in her face. The pair do a great job again, their tactic was slow and steady after watching George rush Chris. They did miles better.

It’s the girls’ turn, Becky taking position behind y/n first. “Give us a hum or something if I’m pouring too fast hun,” Becky instructs in her ear. Y/n nods with a determined grin. Arthur looks on at y/n’s physique, as he hadn’t been able to look before. She carries herself confidently yet she’s humble, something he finds so attractive. The pair do an amazing job and then switch places. “Y/n your ass is very soft and squishy!” Becky exclaims, patting her on the back for finishing the pint quite fast.

“This old thing?” Y/n jokingly replies, looking back to Becky and sticks her butt out slightly towards her. The drinks may be going to her head already. They both laugh as y/n giggles out an apology as Becky shakes her head. “Oh my…” Arthur quietly says to himself as he turns to Chip, being sure not to allow himself to stare, instead he locks eyes with his smirking teammate.

Y/n stands behind Becky and takes the pint from Cal. Y/n leans forward, her head just above Becky’s shoulder so she can watch Becky’s face and pour based on her expression. “Looks like she’s pouring based on Becky’s swallows, good tactic!” Cal calls out. Arthur watches on, taking into account y/n’s care to Becky. Chip leans over the table. “She’s clever and caring bro, wife her up!” Chip whispers. Arthur exhales a laugh through his nose at Chips words, he slightly shakes his head but doesn’t take his eyes off y/n.

The Fe-Mails finish the fastest, against all odds. Chris blames George for pouring too fast and George retorts by saying Chris whined too much. The scores now as follows:

Bone Apetit: 3 points

The Fe-Mails: 3 points

Gherkings: 6 points

The next pub isn’t too far away, about a four minute walk. Chris runs up ahead of George, Arthur, and Chip to reach y/n who is walking alongside Becky and Cal. “So y/n, how are you finding pub golf so far?” he asks, with a camerman walking alongside them.

“I’m really enjoying it so far thanks,“ she starts, “it’s been really fun and everyone’s so nice.”

“Oh yeah, you haven’t met some of the guys before. Cal, Arthur, and Chip right? Alongside the crew?” Chris replies.

“Oop, Chris just said your name” Chip teases Arthur quietly. Arthur looks up ahead of him to see Chris and y/n talking in front of a camera while walking. “You two are really getting on aren’t you, you and y/n?” he adds, patting Arthur on the back.

“Yeah, she’s really nice,” he smiles as he whispers, “She’s just like she is in her videos, not that I thought she wouldn’t be or anything.”

“Yeah, I’d been watching her stuff for a while and before even meeting her, I thought that you guys should meet,” George chimes in, joining Arthur’s other side. “You’re both awkward and nerdy and funny, two peas in a pod really.”

“Really?” Arthur enquires, quite loud, and the boys shush him as y/n and Chris are only a couple of metres ahead and could’ve heard.

They arrive at the third pub already, but there were no seats outside available, so they all squeeze into a round booth inside, with Cal in the middle. From left to right is Becky, Chris, Chip, Cal, George, Arthur, and y/n.

A tray full of shots gets placed on the round table. Cal explains to the camera that this round is an alphabet game where starting with Arthur, they’ll take turns clockwise naming something within a category, from A-Z. Whoever hesitates or says a word starting with the wrong letter, they need to drink a shot. A shot in this game earns a point for the team. The first round is dog breeds, matching Chip and Arthur’s costumes. It goes as follows:

Arthur: “Alsatian”

Y/n: “Bulldog”

Becky: “Chihuahua”

Chris: “Uhh… Dalmatian!”

Chip: “Errr…”

“Hesitation!” Chris and Cal both shout. Chip puts his head in his hands and groans. He picks up a shot and shouts “I can’t think of any dogs starti’ with E!”

“English bull terrier!” Arthur calls, gesturing fake-angrily, “It’s OUR theme!”

“Aw man!” Chip replies as he downs his shot. Arthur chuckles, turning to look at y/n who’s also enjoying the antics. Arthur doesn’t notice at first, but his leg is pressed against y/n’s, mostly due to George manspreading.

George turns to Arthur, “That’s handy, I couldn’t think of a dog beginning with F either,” he chuckled, shrugging.

“A Frenchie?” Y/n replied, leaning forward past Arthur.

“Yeah, a French bulldog, y/n literally said ‘bulldog’ and basically gave that to you!” Arthur laughs, as he nudges y/n.

Round two is fruit and vegetables, based on team Gherkings. Starting with Chip, the game begins:

Chip: “Avocado! Yes!”

George: “B…Banana”

Arthur: “Cantaloupe”

Y/n: “Dragon fr-“

“Brother that’s an animal!” Chip interrupts, pointing at Arthur.

“Cantaloupe?” George asks with both surprise and a smirk as the group laughs.

“You’re thinking of an antelope!” Arthur calls back.

“You’re on the same team!” Chris chortles.

“Y/n, hesitation!” Cal exclaims.

Y/n’s jaw drops, Arthur looks to her in surprise.

“That’s not fair!” Y/n retorts.

“Yeah, she started talking but Chip interrupted” Becky adds.

“To be fair, she said ‘dragon fruit’, I heard her.” Arthur claims, matter of factly as he leans back and puts a hand on y/n’s shoulder, giving it a pat.

“I didn’t hear her, did anyone else hear her besides Arthur?” Cal asks the group.

“I didn’t.” George answers, smugly, shooting a grin towards y/n.

“I did!” Becky adds.

“Well that’s bollocks,” Chris states as he crosses his arms, “if George didn’t hear it, you’re not gonna hear it from all the way over there!”

“George is lying!” “Because George is lying” y/n and Arthur exclaim at the same time.

George sarcastically presses a hand to his heart, feigning a hurt expression.

“That settles it, y/n hesitated.” Cal finalises, smacking the table like a judge with a gavel. George picks up a shot and hands it to y/n “Drink up,” he grins. She takes the shot from him as she narrows her eyes at him.

“Fine, but this means war.” she jokingly murmurs before taking the shot, disgusted by the aftertaste.

“Well done,” Arthur says, leaning back to touch her shoulder again, giving it a squeeze as he grins at her.

The third round is items you’d find in a post office. “Chip, as you interrupted y/n last round, you can start.” Cal states.

Chips stutters, “A…analytics, like sheets of analytics and data and stuff!”

“Absolutely not.” Chris says.

“Boxes!” George shouts, not taking any chances.

“I’m sorry, no.” Chris continues.

“Chris, if you continue interrupting and time wasting, you’ll need to take a shot.” Cal states. The game continues:

Arthur: “Calendar”

Y/n: “Desk!”

Becky: “Eeeeenvelopes”

Chris: “Ummm… F…”

“Hesitation!” Cal shouts, slamming the table again as the others join in shouting.

“Uh, fine!” Chris groans as he downs a shot, sticking his tongue out and shaking his head. “Bloody awful.”

“So, each team has one point each?” George questions, “Well that game was fucking pointless then!”

Cal nods, pretending to be deeply disappointed in everyone. “I was worried this would happen,” he starts, “So we have one more round!”

The cameras whip around everyone as ‘ooh’s echo throughout. The final round was for countries. “Chris, you start.”

Chris: “Argentina”

Chip: “Belgium“

George: “China”

Arthur: “Denmark”

Y/n: “England”

Becky: “… France”

Chris: “Germany”

Chip: “Hhhhhungary!”

George (laughing): “Iceland”

Arthur: “Japan”

Y/n: “Um… Kazakhstan”

Becky: “L…ondon!”

“No!” Y/n cries out, belly laughing as she puts her head in her hands. Arthur laughs along with her and pats her on the back.

“I’m sorry, I panicked!” Becky calls out, immediately grabbing a shot and drinking as Cal shouts: “Incorrect!”

“‘London’” Chris quietly says to himself as he chuckles.

“Don’t worry Becks, I thought London too,” Chip leans forward, calling to Becky who had her head on the table.

The scores at the end of this game are:

Bone Appetite: 4

The Fe-Mails: 5

Gherkings: 7

As the group stand up from the booth, the drinks are starting to get to the group’s heads. “Fuckin’ ‘ell!” Becky shouts, wobbling as she carefully steps out of the booth, Chris getting up behind her with his arms outreached ready to catch her if she falls. Y/n gets up and stumbles slightly, catching herself on the table. Arthur smiles and reaches out to her at the same time. “Woah, careful there!” he chuckles.

Heading to the next pub, Chip loses his footing off the curb, his ankle buckling as he drops to the floor. He’s totally fine and just lays there laughing as Becky and Chris immediately head over to help him up, also cackling. “Oop! Was that a fall there Chip?” Cal questions, pointing at the obviously collapsed man on the floor.

“No…” Chip replies as he’s pulled to his feet.

“Do you want a point for the team or a shot at the next pub?” Cal asks.

“Point. No, shot!” Chip shouts.

“I’m sorry but I’m gonna have to go for your first answer,” Cal states, “One extra point to Bone Appetite!” Arthur shakes his head with a small snigger as he walks beside Cal, a camera pointing at them both.

George is walking alongside y/n, at the front of the group. “Having a good time?” He asks. A little tipsy, she giggles.

“I really am, thanks for getting me on here.” She beams. George grins back.

“I’m glad. And I must say, you’ve made an astonishing first impression.” He states.

“Really?”

“Yep, I’ve seen the crew laugh at some of your jokes. Chip thinks you’re proper nice, and don’t get me started on Arthur.” George elaborates.

Y/n looks to George shyly, “What d’you mean?”

“What’s that?” Arthur asks as he darts ahead to join George and y/n, walking on the other side of her.

“Nothing bad Television, I was just telling y/n what a good impression she’s made already today with her pub golf debut.” George calmly explains. Arthur nods, looking to y/n with a sweet smile.

“You really have!” He adds, his beam so wide his eyes close. “You’ll definitely be asked to join again. If not by Chris, which would make him an idiot, but by the viewers.”

Y/n gets bashful. “Aw, thanks!” She replies.

“And I certainly want you to join again,” Arthur continues, looking y/n in the eyes with a genuine smile.

“Yeah, because you’re terrible and give us a good boost.” George adds, sporting a childish smirk before then drifting back to join the others behind them.

“He’s such an idiot sometimes, ignore him.” Arthur whispers, “His team’s losing anyway.”

Reaching the fourth pub, more shots were purchased for the players. They stand around a circular table outside as Cal announces the rules: Each player must down their shot, with their hands behind their back and only using their mouth to lift the glass. Any spills, leftover drink, or using hands earns the player’s team a point.

Chris goes first and accidentally leaves a little drink at the bottom. Chip and Arthur scream for Cal to penalise him while George squeezes his nose bridge in half-joking frustration. Cal gives team Gherkings a point for not finishing the shot. Becky’s next and completes her shot with ease. “Piece of piss!” She gloats while pointing at the camera. Chip’s next and being giggly and tipsy, he giggles mid-drink and spits the glass out. The drink spills everywhere and the shot glass bounces off the table and shatters on the floor. Arthur clasps his hands to his head, “What are you doing?” He exclaims.

“That’s two points for Bone Appetite, not just for spilling but for breaking a glass!” Cal calls. Arthur playfully shakes Chip by the shoulders with gritted teeth. Chip just giggles. Becky pumps a fist in the air and hi-fives y/n, as they both realise they’re in first place now.

George takes his shot just fine, followed by Arthur. Y/n watches Arthur’s lips around the glass, feeling a little flustered as he furrows his eyebrows in concentration. Arthur drinks his shot just fine too. Y/n’s last and also has the giggles, nervous she’ll make the same mistake as Chip. “Calm yourself babes, focus!” Becky cheers on. Y/n clasps her hands behind her lower back and leans forward, gripping the shot glass with her lips. George looks to Arthur, raising his eyebrows and pressing his lips together, luckily both are out of view of the cameras. Arthur clears his throat awkwardly and locks eyes with George. “Oh grow up” Arthur quietly murmurs, rolling his eyes with a playful smile. Although he can’t deny, he’s starting to break a sweat.

Y/n lifts the glass and tilts her head back fine, but Chip then makes a fake orgasm moan which causes her to laugh. Unlike Chip however, she leans forward and the drink lands back in the shot glass, and she places it back on the table with her mouth. “What the hell Chip?” She calls out, chortling as she stood straight again.

“One point to the Fe-Mails!” Cal declares.

With that round over, the scores are:

The Fe-Mails: 6

Bone Appetite: 7

Gherkings: 8

Heads are starting to spin from the last few shots, and it shows in all the players now. Chris in particular is struggling, groaning as he walks along with the group on the way to the penultimate pub. “Chris, if you chunder you get a point for each spew!” Cal calls to him from the back of the group.

“Fuck off, we’re losing anyway!” Chris shouts back.

“Only by one point, you idiot!” George snaps at his suffering teammate. Cal looks to the camera with fake outrage.

“Did he just disrespect the ref?”, the cameraman made the camera nod. He turns back to the group and puts a hand either side of his mouth. “One point to team Gherkings for disrespecting the ref!”

The girls are also struggling, clinging onto each other as y/n’s steps in particular become gradually more wobbled as they waddle alongside George. Arthur chuckles from behind them. “Wow, you really ARE bad at this y/n!” he calls. She’s too busy concentrating on not falling over to fight back with a witty comment and just giggles.

Reaching the fifth pub, they realise there are no chairs available inside or out, so the crew go to the bar to grab the drinks while the players head back out the pub entrance and all stand on the street. Cal hands Becky and y/n a pint each. “Try not to spew this one back in the glass this time y/n!” Arthur sniggers, his liquid courage getting to him. Becky gives him a middle finger and Chip chuckles.

“Don’t start with me Arthur or I’ll spew on you!” Y/n retorts, not her best comeback but she’s beyond tipsy at this point.

“He’d probably like that,” George whispers under his breath, making Chris cackle.

This round is pretty simple, one teammate needs to feed the other as much of a pint as possible within 10 seconds. If any teammate finishes the pint before the 10 seconds, the team gets one point deducted from their score. Becky and y/n go first, Becky doing the pouring for y/n. “Just squeeze my shoulder if you want me to slow down yeah?” Becky explains, “I’ve seen the others do it before.”

Y/n nods, putting her arm around Becky and resting on her shoulder. “I’ve seen it too, good plan.” She replies. Remarkably, y/n manages almost all the pint, following Becky’s suggestion. The boys cheer her as it’s the best performance y/n has done so far. They swap places and Becky puts her arm around y/n. Watching on from the side, chip slaps Arthur’s back. “Bet you’d love to put your arm around y/n like that wouldn’t you?” He whispers. George, standing the other side chimes in, making quiet kissy noises. Arthur presses his hand to his brow bone and giggles to himself. “You guys are too much, seriously.”

“Honestly mate, she seems into you, she’d probably let you.” Chris adds, standing in front of the boys but hearing everything. He turns to look at Arthur, so he can see Chris is being genuine.

“I don’t know her that well, but for the time I’ve known her, she hasn’t radiated this much with anyone as she’s done with you.” George adds, also using a legitimate tone. Patting Arthur on the back.

Y/n tips the glass for Becky, the whole time watching her face and paying close attention to the hand on her shoulder. “Yes Becky” she quietly chants throughout the 10 seconds, but sadly Becky also doesn’t finish the whole pint in time. Next up are Bone Appetite, Chip deeply suffering as he barely downs half the pint before stopping and trying not to vomit. The boys shouting their fair shares of ‘uh oh’s, trying to make Chip feel worse. Chip doubles over and braces himself. Arthur stands beside him, “Seriously, you alright mate?” He asks calmly.

Chris stands beside y/n, a crew member filming them both. “I thought you’d be the first to go y/n,” he chuckles. Looking back over as the onesie wearers are both leaning against the wall. Y/n giggles, watching Arthur be a supportive friend and melting a little internally.

“Same here honestly” she replies, eliciting a laugh from Chris. Arthur and Chip step back into shot. Arthur pats his back lightly as Chip nods, confirming he’s okay to continue.

Chip begins pouring the drink into Arthur’s mouth. Y/n watching on as Arthur confidently gestures up with his spare arm so Chip can pour faster. Arthur remarkably finishes the pint, reducing their team’s point by one. The other players applaud, y/n is impressed, her eyes wide and mouth slightly open. “You’re drooling” George whispers as he leans into her and winks, he and Chris making their way in front of the camera for their turn. Arthur and Chip cross them, Chip heading inside because he needs a ‘massive slash’ and Arthur joining y/n.

Y/n is stood leaning against the wall as Arthur stands beside her, his arm reached out and hand behind her, pressed against the wall. Shuffling her feet as she watches the Gherkings have their turn, she steps back slightly and the back of her neck meets Arthur’s arm. “Oh, sorry,” she awkwardly whispers to him, letting out a small giggle. Arthur tuts with a faint smile.

“Don’t be silly!” He whispers as he moves his lips closer to her ear, reaching his hand round to squeeze her shoulder a little, before returning it back to the wall. He catches her smiling to herself as he returns his gaze back to George and Chris, and he can’t stop himself from beaming either.

George pouring into Chris’s mouth didn’t go well, only managing half the pint. When they swap however, George also manages to finish his pint. They lose a point for their team, the Fe-Mails being the only team whose score stays the same. The scores at the end of this round are:

The Fe-Mails: 6

Bone Apetit: 6

Gherkings: 7

The gang head off to the last pub, wobblier than ever. Chris and Arthur are busy keeping Chip afloat, neither of them holding themselves too well either. George has his arms around Becky and y/n, he himself being the most sober of the players. “Look at George, Arthur, and Chris. Chivalrous as ever.” Cal says to the camera with a grin. They all pile into the pub, situating at a six-seater table. Cal pulls up a stool at the end again. Chris, Arthur, and Chip head down one side of the table and Becky, y/n, and George move down the other. Y/n sits opposite Arthur, but luckily she’s already flushed from the drinks.

“Okay guys, it’s the final game of the night!” Cal begins as the cameras focus on the table. He explains the rules: each team has a cocktail pitcher that they have to pour into their glasses and drink until the pitcher is empty. Fastest drinking team wins.

Bone Appetite go first, Arthur drinking more than Chip, but they manage to finish the pitcher in under a minute. Next is Becky and y/n. Y/n sniffs the pitcher and shudders. “I don’t think I’ll keep this stuff down Becky” she chuckles, embarrassed.

“Aw, you’ll be alright, I can take more drink if you want!” Becky replies, to which y/n nods. The boys look on with excitement, The Fe-Mails essentially one man down, all except Arthur. Despite wearing a smile to fit the others, deep down he can’t help but worry for y/n, not wanting her to spew on camera in her first ChrisMD video appearance. However, Becky sticks to her promise and takes the heavier load and they complete their turn, although slightly slower than Bone Appetite. Y/n pauses for a moment, a clenched fist held to her mouth. The gang stop to watch her, making sure she doesn’t spew but after a few seconds, she composes herself. “Phew, I’m fine!” She smiles. Becky and the boys relax.

Although it doesn’t seem like Chris is holding up too well either, as George drags their pitcher to rest in between them. “Chin up dearest,” George starts, “we got a game to win.”

Chris lets out a low burp into his hand, groaning out an “Oh god” that’s barely audible. Arthur excitedly looks to Chip, then to Becky and y/n, his eyes wide and lips pursed in an ‘ooh’ shape.

They start, but George quickly takes the lead as Chris struggles. As soon as he finishes his glass, Chris makes a dash from the table, leaving George and the rest to watch on in shock. “I won’t give him a point for vomiting just yet.” Cal chuckles. George turns his attention back to the pitcher, well aware that that they’re still against the clock, and pours himself a glass to continue. Remarkably, he finishes the entire pitcher’s worth and catches up to the girls’ time but wasn’t able to beat Chip and Arthur.

With the final game over, George excuses himself to check on his teammate, and the others talk amongst themselves. As Arthur talks with Chip, he gestures his hand a little too fast, knocking a glass of half melted ice over, the cold water spilling across the table, and dripping onto y/n’s lap. “Oh no!” He cries, eyes wide open as he clasps his hands to his mouth in horror. Y/n yelps at the sudden coldness but soon laughs it off.

“Spillage!” Becky shouts, pointing from the table to y/n while staring directly at Cal.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Shit.” Arthur mumbles, “Let me get you some napkins!” He gets up and rushes away.

“Surely that doesn’t count as a spillage, the drink was all drink up- drunk up,” Chip tries reasoning with Cal.

“Nope, still a spill. A drink was spilled Chip!” Cal quips back in an authoritative but jokey tone. “One point to Bone Appetite!”

Arthur reappears at the table, retaking his seat and passing y/n a scrunched up bundle of napkins as she stands up ready to wipe herself.

“Thank you, good boy!” She giggles as she half-drunkenly leans over pats Arthur on the head, then proceeding to dab her trousers. Arthur looks super surprised at first, as Chip and Becky chortle, before breaking out into laughter himself.

“Brother I’m sorry, you got us a point but your face just then was so worth it!” Chip chuckles. Y/n sits back down, using the remainder of the napkins to dry the table. Arthur feeling all too aware that he may be blushing after being called a ‘good boy’ by the hottest girl he’s ever met, turns his head away from the table, nonchalantly saying “Where are the pickle boys?” to avoid the cameras picking up on any redness in his face. Luckily for him, they both appear from round the corner and return to the table. Sitting down and tucking their chairs in, Chris looks to Cal and bluntly says “Yeah, I threw up” with sheepish look, then he looks to the camera and sighs. George pretends to smell Chris’s bad breath and wafts his hand, then chuckles.

“One point to team Gherkings!” Cal starts, “And with that, the final scores are…” the players begin to smack their hands on the table for a drum roll. “In third place with 11 points is team Gherkings!” the other two teams clap as Chris put his hand to his chest and makes a faint bow. George puts his head down, smirking and gesturing at a very pale Chris, murmuring an “Obviously.”

“And now for first place… it’s a tie between Bone Appetite and The Fe-Mails!” Cal finishes. The table exchange a few ‘oohs’. “I thought this may happen,” Cal continues, “Therefore we have a tie breaker to determine first and second place!”

All of a sudden, two crew members approach the table with four baby Guinnesses, placing one in front of each of the tied team members.

“Oh god, I can’t drink anymore.” Chip whines, eliciting a low laugh from the table.

“I’m not sure if I can either.” Becky adds.

“Each team member will drink their baby Guinness, the faster of both teams will then compete in an arm wrestle.” Cal explains.

“Okay.” Y/n says to herself, determined, her hand ready on her small glass. She had assumed her team would’ve come last because of her, so beating George gave her some encouragement.

“Three-two-one-go!” Cal suddenly shouts very fast, hoping to throw them all off.

Chip doesn’t even move, he remains staring at his baby Guinness in defeat with his hands on his lap.

“Oh, fuck!” Becky calls out, quickly reaching for her drink and downing it. However y/n and Arthur had already finished theirs within just over a second.

Cal claps his hands together and declares: “Arthur and y/n win the race! Get ready to arm wrestle.” They lock eyes and reposition themselves ready. Both feeling a little heated from the eye contact, but they know it’ll make for good shots for the video.

“Get him, y/n!” Becky cheers.

“Don’t go easy on her Arthur!” Chip chants, patting Arthur on the back. The pair rest their elbows on the table and clasp hands, immediately feeling electricity from the contact, and hoping the spark isn’t visible on camera.

“You’re toe-ing… you’re going to do a Fe-FAIL!” Arthur stammers, the baby Guinness going straight to his head. The players laugh, including himself. Y/n cackles with her head down. Arthur squeezes her hand slightly to bring her attention back to the game. She lifts her head back up, locking eyes with him again and attempting a deadpan face. “Someone mute this TV, it-“ but she bursts out laughing before finishing her sentence. Arthur lets out a ‘pfft’ laugh, leaning his head back and squinting his eyes together.

“This is painful,” Chris chuckles, rubbing circles into his eyes with his hands.

“Indeed it is,” Cal adds, “Ready? Start on ‘go’.” The pair’s eyes meet again, y/n slightly turns her wrist to make the wrestle harder for Arthur and gives him a small squeeze. Arthur bites his lip and furrows his brows in response, staring at their connected hands. Y/n is seemingly unaware of just how strong Arthur with his sleeper build, although she’d never tell Arthur (or anyone for that matter) that she’s seen a lot of edits where he is shirtless.

“Three, two, one, go!” Cal calls. Immediately y/n seems to have the upper hand for a few seconds, Arthur’s hand mere inches from the table. Chris and Chip cheer Arthur on, telling him to pick up the slack. Meanwhile, George and Becky chant y/n’s name and smack the table in rhythm. Arthur’s face is contorted as he struggles, watching y/n as she stares at their hands. As soon as she glances back at Arthur, he suddenly smirks and slams her hand down on the table. “Oh my god!” Chip calls out, perking up and slamming his fists on the table with excitement.

“Outstanding. Arthur wins the arm wrestle, which means Bone Appetite wins this video’s pub golf with 7 points!” Cal declares gesturing to his right at the champions. Y/n’s still staring at Arthur with a wide mouth and still with her hand pinned down under Arthur’s. One cameraman zooms in to capture Chip and Arthur’s celebratory reaction, as Chip shakes Arthur’s shoulders and cheers until his voice breaks. Only then does Arthur realise he’s still holding y/n’s hand, giving her hand a couple of small squeezes again before letting go and giving Chip a hug.

Y/n smiles and pulls her hand away to applaud the winners with a smile, alongside the other players. Cal then turns to the girls. “And well done to The Fe-Mails, second place with 8 points!” He exclaims before clapping. Y/n and Becky both let out some ‘woop’s before throwing their prop envelopes in the air like confetti. Arthur and Chip then clap for them.

“Aw commiserations ladies” Chip taunts the girls, his clapping slowing but increasing in volume as he sticks out his bottom lip.

“Ah shut up you, you barely did anything!” Becky retorts.

“Yeah,” y/n joins in, pushing his baby Guinness closer to him. He fake gags and presses his head into Arthur’s neck.

“They’re bullying me Arthur!” He cries against him.

“Not gonna lie, you kind of deserved it,” Arthur replies giggling, watching y/n laugh.

The crew head outside to do their final clips, one by one they partake in the same interview they did before the pub golf games started. The question being a slight variation: ‘How did you fare today?’

Chris’s answer validates his answer at the beginning. Squeezing the bridge of his nose, he chuckles and bluntly answers: “We did shit.”

George’s answer is a stark contrast against his initial confident response. “I would’ve won if it wasn’t for that hobbit” he jokingly states with his arms crossed, his head gesturing towards his paling teammate.

Chip’s nonchalant ‘we’ll do alright I think’ from before was also very different to his new response: “We fucking smashed it, I knew we would!”

Arthur sticks to his dog theme with his answer. “We had fun and were the winners, in dog years this means we had seven times the fun… and seven times the wins” he exclaims with a big smile.

“I think we did fantastic, we would’ve won if it were me doing the arm wrestle, but we still smashed it!” Becky answers, confident as ever, pumping a fist towards the camera.

Lastly is y/n’s final answer. “I bloody loved it,” she chuckles, “I had the best time with the best people, I… had the best time!”

Chris struggles to get through the outro for the video while the others stand either side of him, smiling. The film crew stop recording and put their kits away, all heading back into the pub to have their own drinks, and the players follow them. Chris and Cal sit at a long table with their crew, whereas George, Chip, Becky, Arthur, and y/n head towards booth beside them. Arthur gestures for y/n to slide into the bench first, and he follows suit. Opposite them slides in Chip and George. “Guys my uber is here!” Becky announces. She says her goodbyes to everyone, calling y/n her partner in crime as y/n leans across the table to give her a hi-five. Arthur looks down to his lap shyly as y/n’s face was dangerously close to his during Becky’s farewell. “Have fun y/n” she says in a suggestive tone, before winking at her and leaving the pub. Y/n giggles to herself and readjusts her position.

“What was that about, why’d she say that like that?” Arthur asks y/n, his head tilted and leans closer towards y/n, narrowing his eyes with intrigue.

“Oh, that’s… nothing, she’s just being silly!” Y/n awkwardly replies, unclipping her mic from her collar to put in her pocket.

“Hmm… yeah…” Arthur murmurs, still looking at her suspiciously, but realising he’s still wearing his mic and removes his too. “I’ll give these back to Chris, do you want a drink? Anyone?” Arthur asks, directing the notion to the whole booth.

“I’ll just have a water please,” y/n answers.

“Me too,” George adds.

“If I drink anything else, I’ll fucking die.” Chip murmurs.

“Okay, three waters, I’ll be right back.” Arthur takes the mic packs and heads to Chris’s table. George leans towards y/n with his elbows on the table and his chin resting in his hands.

“Enjoyed the arm wrestle didn’t we?” He teases. Chip copies George’s pose, also awaiting y/n’s reply.

“Actually my wrist hurts now,” y/n awkwardly replies, rubbing her wrist.

“That’s not what I meant, don’t think I didn’t see you two still holding hands way after the arm wrestle was over!” George replies.

“Really?” Chip remarks, “Guess I was too busy celebrating to notice!”

Y/n eyes widen. “You don’t think the cameras picked up on it do you?” She asks awkwardly, “I’m still dealing with the y/n x Becky accusations!”

Arthur makes his way back to the table, juggling three glasses of water. He offers Chip some of his water, to which Chip declines. They chat away about the day for the next few minutes, Arthur’s arm brushing past y/n’s every so often while talking, and occasionally his leg touches hers too. George being a ‘bro’ to both Arthur and y/n, excuses himself to go to the toilets, subtly gesturing for Chip to leave too. Chip says he wants some fresh air and heads outside, leaving Arthur and y/n alone. The booth suddenly feels more intimate.

Arthur shifts on the bench so he’s facing y/n more, his right arm resting on the back of the bench, his hand by y/n’s head. She turns to face him too, her elbow resting on the table and her head on her hand. “Did you enjoy today?” He asks quietly, struggling to maintain eye contact now they’re alone and off camera. She nods, sitting up straighter but looking at her lap awkwardly.

“It was probably the best video I’ve ever been a part of, including my own” she replies with a giggle.

“Really? That fun, huh?” Arthur responds, now looking at her. She nods again.

“Was there anything in particular, or the whole day as a whole?” He queries.

“The whole day,” y/n beams. Arthur then nods, y/n looks around the pub before feeling brave. “Actually, you definitely made things more fun” She adds. Arthur’s eyes widen as he takes a sip of his water, trying to come up with something to say. Y/n follows suit, although it’s because her mouth has become extremely dry.

“What do you mean?” He questions, studying her face with a flattered grin.

“You just made me feel super comfortable, not that anyone made me UNcomfortable, but yeah. It really helped calm my nerves.” Y/n explains.

“Aw well, I’m so glad to hear that,” Arthur replies, moving his hand from the back of the bench to y/n’s shoulder and giving it a gentle jostle. “I think this was my favourite pub golf, by far,” He continues, “and that was down to you, most definitely.”

There was a cozy silence between the two. Y/n nods gleefully as she takes another sip of her water. As she sets the glass back down, she looks to Arthur to see him studying her face. His smile still visible, although more so in his eyes rather than his lips, as his gaze flutters over her features, pausing at her mouth before darting back up to her eyes. They can feel each other slowly leading in.

“Arthur, y/n,” Chris startles them with a hand tapping on the table, “uh sorry, we’re all heading off now. You coming?” Y/n checks her phone, surprised to see it’s getting late. She didn’t originally know how long these pub golf videos take, and it certainly didn’t feel like it took a whole entire day. Arthur turns back to look at y/n with an inquisitive smile. “We’re gonna head back to theirs to watch a horror movie or something, if you want to join?” He asks.

“Yeah, you can crash if you’re not busy tomorrow too, Arthur’s staying over.” Chris chimes in. Y/n of course, accepts the invitation.

Chip makes his own way home, promising to text once he’s back safe. George, Chris, Arthur, and y/n head into a taxi to travel back to the boys’ flat. Chris sits in front with the driver, chatting away with him. Whereas y/n is sandwiched in the back between Arthur and George. “Come on y/n, put us out of our misery,” George starts, his odd sentence gains him confused glances from y/n and Arthur, “who do you think you’ll be shipped most with by the viewers after this video goes live?” He continues with a cheeky grin.

“Probably Becky again.” Y/n chuckles, replying fast without much thought.

“You and Becky, ey?” George enquires, pretending to think as he looks to the ceiling of the taxi and rubs his chin before adding: “Now there’s an image.”

“Don’t be such a perve!” Arthur scolds half-heartedly. They all share a snigger.

“I recon you two.” Chris chimes in, turning in his chair and gesturing to y/n and Arthur with a genuine smile, though his voice raspy.

“Oh really?” Arthur questioned, his cheeks beginning to burn again as y/n turns to look at him. The closeness of their faces in the cramped taxi adding to the heat as they lock eyes and share giggle.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

A/n: my first fic! I hope you enjoyed, sorry it was long. I basically wrote out an entire YouTube view lol but I loved writing it nonetheless. I love a good fluffy slow burner, but I also love smut too so watch this space, hehe

Part two at the boys’ flat?

Also, shall I write a follow-up where y/n and Arthur end up in a pub golf pair after popular demand from the viewers?

- Gabby xo

[jack-kellys]

so we all know life is a circle. thus fandom is a circle. we see things come back around like the de/twinkification of racetrack higgins. or cowboy versus artist jack kelly. or "mom" friend david jacobs and the perpetual need to make the newsies some kind of heteronormative family. and yet again we've found our way back to the anti katherine pulitzer arc of her "getting in the way" of jack and davey's popular subtextual/fanon relationship. (yes im late nevermind that.)

now, not being a katherine fan is different than being anti-katherine. not being a katherine fan means you might have criticisms like "i'm not sure how she serves the newsies narrative better than, say, sarah jacobs, as sarah is more aligned with the newsies contextually/societally and katherine is very distant and rich lol", or even "i'm not a big fan of how katherine seems to be tired of jack's shit for most of the play and then 'suddenly' finds romantic interest in him within one song".

but being anti-singular-young-woman-character because of a ship between the main two boys is. a tired take is it not? again with the circle, we've had this discourse already and its been cut out. since 2012 and 2017 we been talking about this girl and her value, but not in the context we should be.

(because the context we should be talking about it in is a newsies 1992 versus newsies broadway context, not an anti-katherine context, but i digress.)

katherine's value. what is there to mine from? she is an extremely young woman reporter, 17-18 years old, whose article makes the front page of the new york sun. since she writes under a pseudonym, i'm presuming she writes with skill well above her age to be published at all (yes, even writing vaudeville reviews). in past productions she either finds the newsies at jacobi's because she saw the walk-out (TWWK) from inside The World (UK), or jack kelly simply interests her enough for her to seek him out again (Broadway/Tour/Live). she is unsure about herself as a writer despite her skill which is made clear in her song. she is rich. she did not need to have a career and was encouraged not to. pulitzer is her father and she does not get along with him. she matches jack word for word, often with davey at her side. she mills comfortably about the newsies through the second act and has a friendship of some kind with specs specifically. she also literally says "that's a face [jack's] that could save us all from sinking in the ocean/like someone said 'power tends to corrupt'" essentially prophesying the act 2 betrayal. which is crazy.

you can draw your own conclusions from the above, but all of it is essentially canon? right? so maybe you don't have to be a fan of all of it, but you're really going to tell me absolutely none of this is compelling. that none of this is something you can interpret for yourself as complex. that albert is more complex.

this is not me saying you have to include katherine in everything, because that isn't what this post is about. this is about individuals choosing to dislike or devalue katherine by only viewing her in relation to her as a romantic interest, instead of a complex character in a period piece with a full arc. yes a full arc. it's the musical that's rushed not katherine.

@we-are-inevitable speaks on this extremely well in the comments of this post as well, more in connection to katherine as being a compelling romantic interest in the context of newsies speaking in the defense of love interests/often women characters. in this post i speak on how i would navigate jack/katherine as a director, and in this post i speak on how to direct something to believe in to make it, well, believable, aside from its awful writing for both kath and jack. because again, fandom is a circle, and i literally talked about how to "fix" jatherine in august 2024. at length

[lady-of-ocs]

I really love Haikyuu ships but I like this post a lot. I see them being sweet with each other and I’m like “ahaha, SHIP FUEL” but I also recognize how cute the relationship is at a canon level. The friendships between the boys on ALL of the teams are genuinely so nice. I wish we got to see more of the other schools too because I love how many different dynamics that there are. Oikawa and Iwaizumi, for example, have a really funny friendship where Iwa can seem mean or cranky, but you can tell that he and Oikawa genuinely care about each other (I’ve talked about it in my own posts before, but one example I gave was how Iwa absolutely refuses to let Oikawa doubt himself or his skills. If he compares himself to Kageyama, Iwa is there to snap at him and tell him how great he is). Asahi and Nishinoya are a favorite duo of mine as well (partly because I love them both a lot individually) because I find their friendship so sweet and special. I could gush about these boys and the wholesome friendships they have with each other for just as long as I could talk about shipping them. Probably longer. But anyway

I enjoy Haikyuu ships as much as the next person, but have we ever considered that the show just shows wholesome male bonds? Media rarely depicts male friendships on an emotional level, it being seen as "weak", so Haikyuu does this really well. You see the deep bonds of the team's and how emotionally vulnerable they are with each other, it is wonderful. I sometimes wish the fandom focused more on that as opposed to the ships.

[mavuitano]

AM I ALLOWED TO SPEAK???

MY REACTION TO ACT VI OF NATLAN BELOW THE READ MORE

THRAIN THRAIN THRAIN THRAIN THRAIN-

Slightly miffed his name drop was in ONE frame, unless you seek out an NPC about it (which I didn't talk to because I was GRIEVING)

And then it's just not??? Referenced ever again???

Fine, I can live with that, Natlan isn't just Capitano

Also, shoutout to Captain Tupperware with his souls

Kinda sad that Natlan is "over", there's so much left to do, for example the Collective of Plenty...

"Tumaini" is a beautiful name, by the way

Cutie patootie

Also, Ayo and his grandparents was so touching

I'm lucky to not have experienced a grandparent I know and love to decease, but it's still touching

Weird that I barely saw anybody talking about it, if at all

About the circle of the tribes!

I REGRET NOT DOING ALL THE WORLD QUESTS AND TRIBAL CHRONICLES BEFOREHAND

DANGIT

I only did Chasca's because of the time-limited award, and the first two Acts of Mualani's

BUT THE CIRCLE WAS SO EMPTY ;_;

If I could re-experience the Archon Quest in my account with the completed quests, I definitely would

ALSO

MAGIC OF FRIENDSHIP LET'S GO!!!

The whole quest was extremely hype, and GOOD

If there is one gripe I had during the fight, it's that everything went too easy

But I'll expand on that in a later post, I suppose

ALSO

PAIMON MY BABYYYYYY

I don't get emotional quick (I say after dedicating a whole part to Ayo's grandparents and his grief), but Paimon hugging the Traveler in tears???

Yeah no I'm ok yeah thanks

Also, there's something to be said about Mavuika slipping away from the celebrations to die all alone

Mavuika...

ALSO

RONOVA

MF!!!

(by the way there's basically a confirmation that the Abyss in Teyvat is the Honkai from HI3)

(I was normal during the quest, definitely)

ALSO YEAH, MR. CHRIS TERGLIAFERA IS A TERRIFIC VOICE ACTOR

THE HATRED IN CAPITANO'S VOICE WAS UNMATCHED

"Even YOU, great Ruler of DEATH"

Iconic, really

THIS WAS UNNECESSARY THOUGH

LIKE ARE YOU KIDDING ME

THE UNMET FIST BUMP???

CRUELTY

HoYoVerse refuses to make any ship canon, but APPARENTLY they can "kill off" one and make the relationship status highly suspicious

FFS

And then there's the funeral...

Yeah...

(I was inconsolable the entire day)

MavuiTano you will be the death of me

Also, side note

This was an interesting bit for me

She already broke the 4th wall before

Might be doing it again

~~~

And that's about it!

Not a lot of thoughts otherwise, except for the hype about it

I really enjoyed the fight against the Abyss, it was a shounen anime through and through

And while Capitano's role is short-lived, he made every second count

Natlan is saved, at least !!!

And the story was great

(btw I made a draft for an edit with Thrain's cutscene, but, like all other edits, it'll most likely be shelved until further notice)

And I hope I can make some essays and posts about the newly discovered lore and story! Focused on Mavuika and/or Thrain, of course~

[witchlingcirce]

It’s them

[redninjaoutfit]

Jimmy and Ricky fraternizing (post Beach Rumble)

They became besties and crashed at the beach house for the night to rest cause they got their asses absolutely handed to them by the Preppies (still won). Ricky dared Jimmy to try and style a pompadour... turns out its a lot easier said than done.

THEY IN THEIR JAMMIES......... GOD I LOVE THEM.........

HAD TO DRAW ME SOME RICKY AND JIMMY CAUSE TO ME THEY ARE THE ABSOLUTE BESTEST OF FRIENDS TO ME I DO NOT CARE ARGUE WITH THE WALL!!!

On the contrary... if u... perchance... wanted to ramble about them... my tags comments and dms are open 😋👀 (desperate)

[cerealmonster15]

YAAAY

➥ One of your favorite lines (or paragraphs) you wrote in 2024:

I'm giving you two and theyre both idia quotes:

The offer was on the table, and it was up to Idia what happened next. The following five seconds stretched across what felt like eons to them both as Idia focused all his energy on trying not to literally pass out on the bench and take Cater down with him, or get overwhelmed by the possibility that if he DID kiss Cater, Cater might immediately throw up all over him and run away screaming. Really, it wasn’t that he didn’t WANT to kiss Cater, but what if he died? What if they both died!?

^ Blue Raspberry Mango

“...Some one, more like it…” Idia snickered.  And then gasped, a look of horror replacing his expression instantly. “Wait- SERIOUSLY? You- AZUL?!” “Shut up!" Jamil hissed, dropping down beside Idia to cover his mouth. “Don’t be so loud!” “Ugh, EW…” Idia grimaced once Jamil pulled away. “I didn’t expect you of all people to have such shit-tier taste in guys.”

^ Double Sided Pining Coin

I didn't realize those were both 2024 lol what a wild and long year. i love writing idia even though i've only done it a few times lol he's soooo much fun to just go ham with.

➥ A fun fact/easter egg/trivia fact for a fic you worked on in 2024:

i cant think of anything surprisingly lol usually i have a lot to say!! but i guess a fun fact about my ao3 stats is that 2 of my top 5 longest fics are ones i wrote in 2024 [3 if you include the fact that the top one is my multichap fic and i wrote a chunk of it in 2024] and theyre both 5k idi/kei and jami/azu fics lol. something about writing those pairs together makes me bonkers. i love how silly they are on their own and even moreso putting them together. theyre fun ships and i looove the board game club's funny hater friendship, and i also like playing with the concepts of the rest of them being friends/interacting in some degree lol

➦ The title or working title of a fic you're currently working on/planning for 2025:

working title "leocay situationship divorce drama" lol. idk if ill write it into a whole thing, i kinda just wrote down a scene that was haunting me and i have an overall vision for the vibe, ive had this vague idea in my head for a few years now but skdfjklsd i'm kind of shy about it so maybe itll just stay in the drafts. or maybe The Madness will overtake me on a whim and itll find it's way on ao3, we'll see lol.

➦ A scene or fic idea that you want to write/try writing for but intimidates you: (very optional but let's put those stretch goals out!)

^ that one over there LOL ummm also. i have considered many a time writing some of my caterella plotlines, some of which include my twst ocs. but im too shy LOL.....

more reasonably, i do have a trey/cater wip that ive begun but it's a long process because it's one i'm taking my time with, a fic that explores cater and trey [and riddle!!!] as characters and their relationships with each other, like snapshots of scenes from when trey and cater first meet at orientation throughout their years at nrc. i was gonna try and get it out before heartslabyul's section of book 7 began but it's just too slow a process, and now we may or may not get more backstory lore of the beloved trio that i could integrate... if it doesnt destroy me in the process JKLFDSKGHGJ i love my heartslabyuls sooo much so i want to write it with care..... but i get SCARED when i'm going beyond just silly goofy time [tho it will also be silly goofy time. i know who i am]

✦ A link to your ao3 or other posting platform so people can see what you've been up to and what you're going to be up to: :3

My ao3 is here! i also tag "#cereal writes" for cross posting, and sometimes here i post out of context wip lines or babble about my trials and tribulations of writing but i dont really tag those so u kinda just gotta catch me in the act teehee

2024 FUCK YEAH I DID IT + 2025 FUCK YEAH IM PLANNING ON DOING IT (fic) writers edition

➥ One of your favorite lines (or paragraphs) you wrote in 2024:

➥ A fun fact/easter egg/trivia fact for a fic you worked on in 2024:

➦ The title or working title of a fic you're currently working on/planning for 2025:

➦ A scene or fic idea that you want to write/try writing for but intimidates you: (very optional but let's put those stretch goals out!)

✦ A link to your ao3 or other posting platform so people can see what you've been up to and what you're going to be up to: :3

Tagging~ let's see. @ladybundle @basuralindo @deezneezz

anyone else is free to do it too, I have not had coffee yet so my brain is bleary.

[quadrantadvisor]

DP x DC, revenant!Jason Todd

Shortly after meeting, Danny and Jason have a late night conversation about what it means to come back. 1281 words

On AO3

-

Danny woke groggily, in a dark place that he didn't recognize, and took a moment to get his bearings.

He felt the warning ache in his neck that came from being propped up against an arm rest. There were two sources of dim light in the room—the glow of city street lights, muffled behind a curtain, and the green eyes of the man whose lap Danny's feet were propped on.

Right. Danny hadn’t meant to fall asleep on the revenant’s—on Jason’s—couch, but they’d been talking for so long, he must’ve dozed off.

Jason had had so many questions, about ectoplasm, about the zone, about Danny’s own experiences. Danny had done his best to clear up everything he could. A revenant may not be quite the same as he was, but still, it made Danny happy to be able to pass on his hard won knowledge and maybe save someone else a bit of the hurt and confusion that he’d gone through. It was what he’d always wished someone would do for him.

Jason was slumped into the couch, but he didn’t look relaxed. Danny examined his still profile, cast in strange shadows by its own green glow, and wondered how long it had been since he’d moved.

Danny shifted slightly, purposefully producing the fabric sounds of a body against upholstery, to make sure Jason knew he was awake. No reaction. Danny gave him one more moment, then asked, “You okay?”

Jason didn’t look at him when he answered, “You told me I’m basically possessing my own corpse, and I’m supposed to not be upset about that?”

Really, Danny should’ve predicted something like that. How long had he spent, trying to pretend that death hadn’t really touched him? It wasn’t an easy thing to accept.

“What’s the difference between a body and a corpse?” Danny asked.

Jason’s eyes snapped to Danny, their glow intensifying. “I am not dealing with riddle bullshit right now, I swear to-”

“No, I’m being serious,” Danny interrupted, pulling his feet from Jason’s lap and sitting himself up. “There’s one difference between a corpse and a living body, and that’s that someone is living in it. Jason—” he reached out, gripping one of Jason’s hands in his “—you’re alive. That’s what matters. The rest is details.”

Jason’s shoulders bent inwards, his other hand raising to rub at his chest. “You don’t get it,” he said, quiet. “People don’t just come back from what they did to me. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“However you died, it’s not-”

Jason huffed an ugly sound, a short and bitter laugh that Danny hurt to hear. “Is it crazy that that isn’t even what I was talking about? I meant after.” The motion on his chest was repetitive, like he was tracing something underneath his shirt, and Danny got the sinking feeling that he knew just what sort of scar it might be. “I was gone, okay? I was gone, and this body was still here. And they took it, and they cut it open and rummaged around inside to figure out what happened. Which is—” he cut off, sniffed, and Danny gripped his hand tighter “—which is stupid, right? It’s not like it wasn’t obvious.” His fingers twitched, and he continued, haltingly, “I mean, I’ve read the report. Pulled it off his stupid files. The smoke inhalation did me in. After everything that happened, it was the smoke.”

Jasons’ hand pulled out of Danny’s, and they both rose to cover his face, cutting off the glow while he curled in on himself even tighter. His voice was slightly muffled when he said, “And then they had to ship me home, right? So they bled me dry and pumped me full of formaldehyde, and they prettied me up so they could pretend I wasn’t just some empty thing, and Bruce held the tiniest most depressing little funeral known to man and put my ass in the ground, and I had to wake up down there.” His words and his breaths were coming too quick, and Danny didn’t know how to help. He didn’t want Jason to stop, not when it seemed like he needed to say all of this, but he could see just how badly the revenant was hurting.

“But you did wake up,” he whispered.

“Woke up in my own mutilated corpse!” Jason snarled. “Everything I’ve forgotten, and that memory is still crystal fucking clear! It stank in there, like death and vinegar and mud, and it was so small, and I couldn’t even try to scream for help because they sewed my fucking mouth shut—!” He broke off into a sob, and Danny couldn’t stand it anymore, had to lean into Jason’s side and wrap an arm around him as he shook with all the emotion he couldn’t reign in.

“Okay,” Danny said. Not you’re okay, just okay. “Okay, so that’s the most horrible thing I’ve ever heard, and I regularly hang out with a guy who wants to skin me.”

Jason sniffed. “What?”

“Nevermind. It’s just-”

“No, I think we should go back to the skinning thing-”

“I just don’t want you to let it define you,” Danny interrupted. “I did that. I got into my head about it, the whole ‘being dead’ thing, feeling like I was…” Danny gave himself a second, swallowed, “like some sort of freak. A thing that didn’t belong anywhere. But I’m still alive, and you’re alive, and even if we weren’t, it wouldn’t matter, because we’re still here, and as long as you’re here you can find something that’s worth staying for.” Danny rubbed what he hoped was a soothing pattern into Jason’s admittedly impressive bicep.

Jason let out a sigh. “I must really be pathetic if you’ve gotta pep talk me like that, huh?” he said, and Danny pretended not to see him wiping at his eyes. “Sorry,” he added, “about all this. I’ve got some shit I haven’t dealt with, and this ‘revenant’ stuff brought it up pretty bad.”

“I get it,” Danny said, and hoped Jason could tell how much he meant it.

Jason sighed again, heavy, like he was trying to release something else with his breath, and said, “It still doesn’t make any sense. Logically, I can’t be alive. Where did my blood come from?”

Danny shrugged. “Do you have blood?”

“I definitely have blood. I’ve seen a lot of it.”

That gave Danny pause. “Just like, around?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Jason said, deadpan. “I’ve got a surplus, so I like to leave some here and there, make sure everyone gets a chance to appreciate it.”

“I have no idea how much you’re joking and it frightens me,” Danny told him.

“Weak,” Jason replied.

“Anyways, you gotta not think about it too much. The interdimensional goop is already logic-defying, and you’re mixing magic with it with your special soul willpower or something. Your brain will explode if you try to make it make sense.”

Jason huffed a little laugh, bouncing Danny on his shoulder, and this time it made him feel lighter. “Can I just say that I hate that I’m full of interdimensional goop?”

“Valid,” Danny said.

Even without looking at Jason, Danny could tell that he just rolled his eyes by the way the soft green light moved.

Danny had his ear pressed to Jason’s shoulder, feeling his warmth, and if he focused, he could just make out the revenant’s pulse. Personally, Danny thought it was pretty cool to be full of magic and goop and blood. Much cooler than Danny, who was way more science goop than magic goop. They’d have to compare notes on that sometime.

Maybe Jason would come around to it.

[crookedfivefingers]

3.13 | ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ʟᴏʀᴅꜱ

link to the post I accidentally wound up prattling endlessly about in the tags 💀

[blorbosinmyheadcentral]

your art makes me explode in a positive way like

im chewing and swallowing it in an aggressive way like

it's just SO good im melting ilove your shading and KEHEKEBEKJDJF

anwayshi hello do you happen to have any headcanons for showtime rolls on the floor and dies

Thank you so much, really appreciate it!

Oh God I don't know if this will read as coherent because my thoughts about Showtime are all over the place. But I'll try to format this the best I can

✨Showtime HCs! ✨

Their relationship starts when they start spending time together.

(The reason why they do so could vary. In Supervised Machine Learning's case, Pomni becomes something of a "tutor" to Caine; They discover that they work well together, and the other's company can be quite pleasant!).

So Pomni and Caine build a weird, but comforting friendship, and all is well.

Then the feelings appear.

Caine is the first to realize he fell in love.

It sounds illogical but hear me out… it'd be really funny--

Ok no seriously I think Caine can actually feel. Keyword "can". He's very much still a machine and it shows in the pilot. But like his inspiration (AM), Caine is also a rogue AI. Whatever his programming originally intended him to do, he probably doesn't follow it as closely now as back when he was created (which is a whole other post).

Caine knows what love is and the extend it can go, since the Moon is so open about her feelings. He just doesn't like the Moon back specifically haha (sorry Moon) :}

All this to say, I do believe this is within the realm of possibility for him. (Not that it's ever gonna happen towards anyone in the show. These are just wishful shippy thoughts).

He might not recognize it as love at first, because it manifests in such a different way from his one reference point.

His friendship with Pomni had gone through phases.

When they first met, he continuously touched her with no concern for how she felt.

Learning from and about Pomni herself led him to come to respect her boundaries (and becoming mindful of everyone else's).

Then they're close friends, and gradually, Pomni does not mind his regular wacky, touchy-feely self. So Caine acts as he had always done before.

Caine expresses his love for Pomni with physical gestures and his undivided attention.

When they teleport to travel to other places, he holds her close so she doesn't get too dizzy; he pats her head to reassure her; he touches her arm to get her attention; he grabs her hands when he's excited about her ideas; he holds eye contact for prolonged periods of time; and he touches, and touches, and touches, and touches.

It's selfish, and so he keeps it buried in his deepest 0's and 1's. But he'd like to keep hanging out with Pomni, having her in his sight, and feel the texture of her gloved hands until the end of time.

Despite all this, to him, virtually nothing changed.

What? He's spending time with Pomni as he'd always been doing, and behaving as he'd always behaved!

It's Bubble of all people that has to point out that, "Hey boss. I think you WANT her!"

Absurd. Nonsense. Preposterous! It is merely a relationship of mutual support and affection between a ringmaster and his trusted, former-human companion. Nothing more.

(Declaring his love to her unprompted didn't ever cross his mind, so there's no way it could be that. Is there?)

Caine finds out that yes, there is.

Pomni had always been a nervous wreck, but her mind state becomes more manageable over time. She eventually adjusts to the circus life like everyone else did.

"Accepting" her fate is a different story. The will to escape, to remember, never really leaves. She's just more careful about it.

So when she starts working with Caine - to improve life so people don't go abstracting anymore, and hopefully find a definitive exit - she's not expecting to end up liking her time with him.

Not that she'd absolutely hate it, either. He's… "okay"… Just-- outlandish, loud, he keeps invading her personal space, he keeps touching her, and it makes her die a little every time.

If he's up to listening, though… it can't be that bad, right?

Turns out that no, it wasn't that bad.

Yes, he is outlandish, loud, he keeps invading her personal space and touching her. But she explains what she means to him, clearly and patiently, and he makes an effort to do better. An actual effort.

Sometimes he'd misinterpret what she meant - the ambiguity of human language - and the new games would go horribly. But little by little, his efforts make life overall better. Something reminiscent of actual, real life, the one they've all forcibly left behind.

And he tries, and he tries, and Pomni finds herself enjoying the process as much as the good results.

Pomni likes Caine's eagerness to learn. His enthusiastic attitude borders on silly, and the absurdity makes her laugh on occasion. When faced with the prospect of a "real" exit, she loves his upbeat optimism.

When she's not hanging out with Ragatha, Jax, Gangle, Zooble and Kinger, she begins to enjoy spending quality time with Caine.

Each one of their hang outs is a new surprise. They make a picnic in the tallest mountain exactly in between day and night. They learn to dance - while floating in the air. "Since you asked, here's a DIGITAL camera! Let's take pictures of the Void for one tenth of a second at a time!"

Sometimes he just comes by Pomni's room, and they end up losing track of time. Just chatting about how things have been, what they could be, and what to do next. Ideas and ideas and ideas.

Before Pomni knows it, she's comfortable enough that recalling his old habits makes her not dread them anymore. So when Caine stands close and lightly touches her arm due to oversight, she makes sure he knows it's all right.

And they keep spending time together, and he touches, and touches, and touches her. Pomni, in turn, feels lighter, and lighter, and lighter. Peaceful, at ease. Dare she say, happy, even.

Life is not perfect. As it stands though, it's good enough. No one has abstracted. No one is at risk of abstracting so far.

Progress is slow, but the research for an exit continues, and she is hopeful. The thought of actually leaving grows closer to reality. But a part of her feels heavy.

When it occurs to Pomni that leaving the Amazing Digital Circus means leaving Caine behind, she is alarmed by how much she'll miss him.

It'll hurt. Badly. So much the thought pains her even now.

The moment Pomni realizes this, she comes to the unexpected conclusion that she may like Caine a little more than she thought she would.

This later leads to an interesting discussion with Ragatha.

By the time Pomni comes to that conclusion, Caine is already down bad.

Neither has any idea that the other is in love with them.

Cue dumbasses trying to deal with their feelings while the potential conflict the escape brings looms over their heads.

Thanks for coming to my TED talk!

[turtleblogatlast]

Do you ship any of the turtles with anyone? or do you ship anything in rise at all?

(This ended up being a lot longer an answer than I intended hoo boy sorry about that)

Hmmm, I’m not too big a shipper tbh! Especially since I really enjoy canon interactions backing my ships, so it’s hard for me to actively like any that don’t really have that going for them. There’s plenty that I see around that I think are cute, but that’s usually the extent of my thought process for them.

For ships I more actively have, I guess I like AprilxSunita! They’re very very cute and I think they have some huge meet cute energy in their first episode together, and their chemistry is genuinely adorable (plus them being featured means more April screentime which is ALWAYS a good thing.)

I also think AprilxCasey (and when I say Casey I mean our OG girl) is really good, as I’m a sucker for enemies to lovers, and I think they have a lot in common and just bounce off each other very well (not to mention this ship in other iterations of TMNT has a loooooot going for it.)

Keeping the chain going, I think RaphxCasey (again, OG Casey) is also one with a tonnnnn of potential. They have a lot of common characteristics, and considering Raph’s whole thing with Franken-Foot, I really think there’s a lot of room there for a relationship to develop. Plus, like AprilxCasey, Raph and Casey tend to have a close relationship throughout the iterations of TMNT and it would be great to see that more with these two, even if not romantically.

Actually going back to enemies to lovers, I unironically think there’s a ton going for DonniexKendra. I know a lot of people hate this ship, but I don’t and I actually think it could very easily work whether in a love-hate way or a slow burn way. There’s a lot to like here and honestly they’re good together! Kendra is legit Donnie’s type too haha (cute, but mean.)

Lastly, SplinterxDraxum is good…when done right. I really like when people take it and don’t undermine the very real trauma that Splinter has gone through. As I’ve stated a lot, I love me some enemies to lovers, so I can see the potential here. Plus lbr Draxum was down BAD for Lou Jitsu when he first saw him haha.

I think that’s the extent to what I actively like? Everything else usually falls into “aw cute” or “ehhh not for me thanks”. And before you ask YES leosagi is cute and I’ll read fics with it if the premise is appealing, but I’m afraid I need some canon interactions to establish base character dynamics before I actively ship it alas.😔 Super cute though, no hate to it or any of the other CanonxCharacter-they’ve-never-met ships, I genuinely think people should just have fun! And for what it’s worth I really do wish we got a Usagi and Leo interaction in Rise like we have in other iterations.:(

So yeah. Overall, I have a few ships I enjoy, but I fall much more in the “prefer to keep everyone to themselves and make the focus family and friendship” category.

[anonymoosen]

Heather by Conan Gray but it’s from the other person’s POV:

I still remember, third of December, you in my sweater

Blurted out it looked better on you than it did me

I know and I can see

How much you liked me 

But I can’t deny when she

Walks by

She’s such a sight for sore eyes

Brighter than the blue sky

She should get me mesmerized 

But deep down inside

I wish that I could kiss you

When I’m with her,

I really miss you 

I gave her my sweater, 

But it's just polyester

My heart likes you better 

Wish you were Heather

You watch when I stand with her

And I held her hand

Putting my arm ‘round her shoulder

We’re both getting colder 

How couldn’t I like her?

She’s such an angel 

But then again, kinda wish you were her

When you walk by

You’re the sight for sore eyes 

Tears bluer than the blue sky

Hate myself for living this lie

While you die 

I wish that I could kiss you

When I’m with her,

I really miss you 

I gave her my sweater, 

But it's just polyester

My heart likes you better 

Wish you were Heather

I wish you were Heather

Wish you were Heather

I wish that you could kiss me

You should know you’re just as pretty

I once gave you my sweater, it's just polyester

My heart loves you better

Wish you were…

[jackass-jones]

Shinjiham is cute when it’s romantic but tbh I think i vastly prefer the idea of them being best friends instead. Like, neither of them really saw it coming and weren’t really looking to get another best friend (Shinji has Akihiko, Kotone has Junpei and Yukari respectively) but it happens anyway. Kotone takes a liking to Shinji much faster than she does anyone else and I’d say a big reason is just the fact that he’s so reserved that it allows Kotone to do most of the talking while he just listens and they love this arrangement cuz Kotone doesn’t get to talk about her own interests very much. Though I think some of her needs to talk to Shinji stems from this insecurity that he isn’t happy in the group and she has this people pleasing problem and wants everyone to be happy so she makes a much bigger effort to talk to Shinji. And it’s very unfortunate because Shinji intentionally acts cold and distant because he doesn’t want to form any attachments because he wants to die soon, but aaaaaaaagh dammit this girl just keeps talking to him and being sweet and encouraging him to engage in his interests and share them with the others and he just can’t seem to say no when she’s got those damn puppy eyes. And Kotone is just able to get him out of his shell by being persistent but not in an overwhelming way, she’s very cheerful and supportive of him. And Shinji is able to offer her support by encouraging her to talk about herself and by making sure she’s taking care of herself. They just click really well and make such a positive dent in each other’s lives and it’s all about basic acts of kindness going a long way you know?

[undercoverrobotzombie]

The girls!!! The girls ever!!

Tifa and aerith!!! No matter how many different refs I used I could only barely get the hands okay for aerith and couldn’t at all get the hands right for tifa so she’s been banished from the hand store and is therefore handless, but otherwise I liked this :] I didn’t do em fully dressed up n stuff cuz frankly put I’m not doing all that!! I also didn’t use a reference for the girls until I got to the colours cuz I forgor, but I like it anyhow, final fantasy 7 as crawled into my brain unlike anything else, no hyperfixation even though I’m a freak about it and how Iv had ELEVEN WHOLEEE DREAMS!!! About it, my most favourite thing in the world Iv only had 3 dreams of in the whole 7-8 years Iv been into it!!! Outrageous!!! But that’s besides the point!! There was no point but it was besides it anyways

[palestaticexchange]

LA VACHOLIER ET LE CHAT

You don't like putting the trash out. The four flights of stairs you have to carry the bin bag down is your first gripe, not to mention the stink of the bins themselves. Besides, the slim alley keeping your bins safely away from the road is on the dark side of the building. It reminds you of *more than one* crime scene.

So as you reach the steel bin - in your sandals, naively calmed by your evening shower - you can't *really* be blamed for shouting as something grey shoots from the bin causing you to drop the bag.

The bin bag splits on the tarmac. Your hand shoots to the side of your jumper. The skin beneath your armpit is gripped painfully as you clutch for where your gun *should* rest. But you've been home for over an hour and your armistice hangs on the rack by the door.

You notice then the quick, grey mass is an errant and irritated tom cat. Its tail flicks upwards in indignation as if considering whether or not to spray the bin he was trapped within.

You drop your hand, ignoring the white-hot shame creeping up your spine.

After a deep, calming breath you bend and lift the bag with both hands. The split in the plastic runs along the bottom and you lose only a few scraps of paper as you huck it into the awaiting bin with a sigh.

The cat strolls a few feet away and watches you over its battered shoulder, now bored. You consider its predicament. One of the dockworkers, or a bored child, must have dumped it in the bin as a cruel joke. You hope it was a joke at least. The thought of being slowly crushed in the back of an Revacivic truck makes you shudder.

You wouldn't call yourself an *animal lover* by any means, but the creature is small; and has obviously seen its fair share of woes.

Half an ear missing, one cloudy eye, scratches line its flank and the thing's primordial pouch is mostly bald. There's also a droop to its mouth that speaks to missing teeth.

As you place the steel lid back on the can, the cat sits on the wet tarmac and grooms one paw. "I'm cooler than you are," this gesture says. "O' Vacholier, scared of his own shadow."

You don't see the cat again for a week and a half. You forget about it, you're a busy man after all.

It's only as you approach your tenement building, soaked to the skin and shivering from the day's endless downpour, that you're reacquainted. You hear it before you see it; a guttural yowling of misery, ringing out every two seconds on the dot. The creature actually resembles the toupee of a suspect from earlier in the day.

You didn't need Harry to nudge you and whisper 'That man's hair is fake, Kim!' The sodden grey strands had parted to reveal the faint yellow of hypoallergenic adhesive.

Similarly, this *sad* little beast crouches under the tiny awning over the front of your building, it's jowls pulled down by the weight of wet fur. As it hears the jingling of your keys its head snaps to you, orange eyes wide as it directs the next yowl in your direction. "Miserere mei, Deus!" It seems to say.

But you didn't waver under the suspect's earlier begging, and you will not be broken by some pitiful animal either.

It's a rare day off and you are *content*. You're curled in the preferred corner of your sofa, a fresh mug of tea steaming away on its arm. In your left hand you hold the little pamphlet of poetry that Harry had given you.

The poetry is *actually* okay. You'd turned your nose up at the gesture, and Harry had raised his hands; already predicting your baulking. He'd insisted.

He explained he'd bought it from a homeless man who'd cut clippings from abandoned newspapers and included writings of his own. Harry had loved it *so* much that he'd circled particular stanzas for Kim's enjoyment and told him to read those. You figured you could at least entertain the highlighted sections.

You don't posses an artistic mind, but practising volta means you have a softer spot for poetry. Besides, the sections Harry had highlighted were all to do with Revachol, community, and companionship. It was a sweet gesture.

You pull back your thumb and tilt the book to the left, letting the page flutter sideways then pinning it in place by replacing your thumb. Your right hand scratches the cat under his chin.

Yes, *that* was a development.

About a week ago you'd been making dinner. The only shop open in your neck of the woods by the time you'd finished work was the corner store; and it had flooded. Shut. That meant dinner had been *cans found in the back of my cupboard that happen to still be in date* special.

One of the tins was mackerel that you didn't even *remember* buying. None-the-less it *was* in date and Dei knows you could do with the Omega-3.

As you spooned the *rankest* looking stew you'd ever seen into a bowl, you heard yowling from outside. The cat. That wasn't unusual.

He'd started hanging around your tenement almost exclusively. Even following you to your Kineema in the morning - tail raised to the skies - and greeting you upon your return.

What *was* unusual however was that he sounded *close*. Because you live on the 4th floor. You had blinked, and upon considering that you weren't particularly *excited* to eat your watery creation, walked to your balcony. As you pulled back the curtain, two orange eyes peered up at you from the dark.

Later in the week you'd actually manage to catch the cat scaling the fire escape and leaping between balconies to reach *another* room within your tenement; by virtue of an open window. A moment later you heard a woman shriek and watched the cat scarper back out, followed swiftly by a hairbrush.

But on that evening you'd been baffled, and in a moment of weakness opened the door to offer the spent can from your mackerel. Something about the way the beast had purred like an old MC as it licked the tin around your balcony had caused something in you to snap.

You'd let him in the moment you heard the first drops of rain.

You sit at your sewing desk fixing the long tear in the back of your bomber jacket. You've been working long enough that you've released the tension from your jaw.

The Detective had *insisted* you *had* to climb the barbed wire fence. You watched him swear, pricking himself over and over, allowing a smug little smile- *once* he'd made it safely to the other side, that is. A smile that had been promptly wiped from your face upon hearing the snag, tear, *rip* of your jacket catching at the end of your deft vault.

He had grovelled and apologised profusely. *You* had been pissy the rest of the day.

However, you were beginning to calm down. You'd already decided you'd pick up croissants on the way in tomorrow as an apology for your sour mood.

There's a whine from behind you and you turn to see the cat stretch out its back legs on the sofa. Good idea, you think; uncurling from over your desk and raising your wrists above your head.

At that moment there's a pounding on your front door. You roll your eyes. It's just gone 10pm. Whichever drunk dockworker has forgotten which room is *his* can help himself, or sleep in the hallway. It wouldn't be the first time you'd had to step over a burly man on your way to work.

Then you hear your landlord's muffled voice. "Lieutenant? It's the 28th." Last Sunday of the month.

"Shit," you whisper harshly, shooting from your chair. "Merde. God *damnit*." You lean over your desk and throw open the door to your balcony. Then you scoop the cat from your sofa and practically *bowl* the creature, confused and sleepy, through the door; sliding it swiftly shut.

"Lieutenant? Are you in?"

"One moment please." You call back, grabbing the envelope holding your rent off the breakfast bar and opening the door to your flat.

The man's at least a foot shorter than you but holds himself like he's a giant. He enters your flat without invitation and squints as he peers around. "Evenin', Lieutenant."

"Trevor," you reply, offering the envelope. You're hoping he'll take the hint promptly this time. You used to try boxing him *out* of your flat, but the old man's insistent, and you've long since grown tired of wasting your breath.

The landlord swipes the envelope with a grunt, opening it with practised ease and thumbing through the bills. "The damn smell's back."

Great. This wouldn't be a prompt visit then.

He sniffs thickly, seemingly satisfied with his counting, and looks up at you. "When ya gonna shift those kids, Officer? Can't have 'em smoking weed in the stairwells."

You place a hand on your open door, lightly brushing Trevor's shoulder as your arm passes him and effectively guiding him towards the exit. This is your second hint that you'd like him to leave now. You have explained multiple times that you are a *homicide detective* and that kids smoking hemp is decidedly *not your problem* but your landlord doesn't seem to care.

"It's a damn shame too!" The man continues, "Could charge more for the upstairs rooms if the place didn't stink!"

You think about pointing out how the building gets wetter the higher you rise within it, but you've got a pretty good *thing* going on. You *barely* insinuate that you might, one day, do something about his issue of the month; and he doesn't raise your rent. On days like today you're not sure it's worth it.

"You any closer to figuring out who it is?" He cocks his head at you.

"When are you fixing the central heating?" You cock your head in the opposite direction.

He sniffs again. You raise an eyebrow.

Then the man fills his lungs and tucks your money away in his pocket. "I understand, Lieutenant. You're a busy man after all." He clears his throat and steps back into the hallway. "Thanks for rent."

"See you next month." You shut the door.

The cat blinks at you in bleary betrayal as you draw the curtain back and let him in again. You sigh as you collapse on the sofa and he jumps up next to you, already beginning to rumble.

You think about *les papiers scientifique* that claim proximity to cats improves longevity. Something or other about blood pressure and heartrate being effected by their purring. As he curls in a ball on his side and nestles against your thigh, placing his paws over his eyes, it doesn't seem too far-fetched.

You think, not for the first time, of naming the beast. You've been calling him 'Chat' or 'Moche Chat' when you're feeling particularly playful, but these aren't real names.

You don't name him - not because you'd rather not get attached, it's a little late for that - but because there's only one name you *want* to call him. One, mortifying, *embarrassing* name that makes your face flush with heat even when you're alone in your home.

You'd noticed it the first time he lay like this, curled up on his side. The missing teeth meant a couple of things;

One: he drooled. The first day you'd let him stay in your flat while you were at work you could tell exactly where he'd slept by finding the tiny circles of wet on your bed and sofa.

Two: when he lay on his side, like he was doing at present, the fur around his face drooped into his mouth. It was akin to an uneven jaw, skewed further by the long, drooping whiskers that framed his jowls. It almost looked like a rather distinctive style of facial hair.

"Khm." You clear your throat and look out your balcony at the lights of the GRIH.

"Will you come for a few drinks, Lieutenant?"

You finish the sentence you're on, then look up from your report at Officer Minot. She's already wearing her bag over one shoulder, smiling tiredly at you. You notice Chester hanging around by the door to the bullpen. They try this every week or so.

"No thank you, Officer." You say, offering a polite nod. "I should really like to get this done this evening."

"Aww c'mon, Lieu!" Chester calls. "All work and no play makes... Uh... Howsit go again?"

Every other Thursday Harry leaves the precinct early for his psychological physio. It's not the sort of thing he'd have been able to afford outright, but Mr. Heidelstam had mentioned his unusual brand of retrograde amnesia to a colleague studying for a PhD. Apparently the detective made for an interesting subject of research.

It had lightly worried you when Harry told you this, wondering if his condition was being exploited, but he'd been going for a month and it didn't seem to bother him. In fact he actually *enjoyed* his sessions. They seemed to have him playing various word and memory games while wearing an EEG cap. The following Friday you took lunch together and he'd tell you about the games in great detail. On the Thursday evenings however, your new colleagues would try to entice you to the bar.

"And I can't change your mind?" Judit asks, sadly.

"Course you can't!" Chester answers for you. "Guy's a stick! Probably goes home to eat plain oatmeal and do the crossword!" He barks a laugh.

You purse your lips lightly. You don't mind being called boring - you are boring - but something about an Officer as incompetent as McClaine *almost* guessing your evening plans rubs you the wrong way. You were quite looking forward to your crossword. And bran *with* sugar. 

Judit winces sympathetically and you sigh. "I suppose," you begin, rising from your desk. "Just this once I'll entertain you. If only so you'll stop asking."

Officer Minot's mouth forms a little 'O' of surprise, and McClaine's face splits into a wide grin at having *convinced* the steeled Lieutenant Kitsuragi to bend to his will. Sure: you'll go out. You'll be *boring* and constantly *bring up work* and they will *never* ask you to join them again. That tends to do wonders.

You wake on the sofa in the dark. The dark is not a problem for you. The dark is safe. The dark *is* unusual for this time of evening however. You are hungry. Where is Your Vacholier?

You stretch languidly, cracked claws piercing the leather of the sofa before you hop down. You pad into the thin room separated from the main space by only a breakfast bar. This is where the *smells* come from. 

Some days ago Your Vacholier had returned from his pesky outings with a look of minor guilt.

Up until this point you'd ate like a king. Scraps of ham, fish, bits of cheese, small saucers of milk, and the scrambled egg that he once could not finish. Now you got biscuits. Not as tasty, but more regular with bigger portions.

When you had finished your meagre meal, you returned to him and let him scratch you under the chin while he scanned a long piece of paper. He made mutterings about 'reál' and 'stupidity' and you realised his guilt was not directed at *you*, as it should be.

You could smell the worry on him however, so you supposed you'd let it slide.

The longer claws on your back paws click against the linoleum as you approach the cupboard containing your biscuits. You can smell them through the door. Yet no matter how you paw at the cupboard, or manipulate your head underneath it, it does not open. 

Well. Only one thing for it then. You turn and with a flick of your tail piss up the front of the cabinet. 

Your Vacholier had started pinning the tiny window in the kitchen open, despite the cold. This allowed you to come and go as you pleased. However, his decision to abandon his usual schedule - and therefore you - was a serious transgression and could not go unpunished. 

It's at this moment that you hear the key in the lock. You raise your tail and pad back into the main area. He should *really* have made it in by the time you reach the sofa, but he seems to be struggling. You sit on the rug in front of the sofa.

A moment later Your Vacholier lurches into the room blanketed in interesting new smells. He holds a box in one hand that makes your mouth water. The loud, orange, uncomfortable fur he choses to wear crushed under his opposite arm. He throws it at the rack he hangs his things from and misses.

He slaps at the wall and winces as the dark leaves. Then he spots you. "Oh, hello." 

You barely open your mouth as you yowl in return. You have nought the energy to do so. Can't he see you're starving?! Practically wasting away?!

Your Vacholier coughs making for the thin room. Finally! You dart between his legs, tail raised, and he stumbles in his effort not to tread on you. "Oop!" He usually possesses more grace than this. He smiles down at you, "Easy~" He sounds different too. Whatever. As long as you get your biscuits.

He drops the box onto the breakfast bar and you're hit with a wave of that wonderful smell once more. *That* requires investigation. As Your Vacholier bends down to open the cabinet you jump onto his back then onto the counter.

"Hey!"

The box is easily chewable paper and likely holds prizes most enticing. You stick your face in the tiny gap on the side but before you can do much damage a firm paw catches you under the belly and sweeps you *off* the bar, dropping you on the floor. You mewl. You're starving. You need that!

"Thas mine- not yours, *Chat Moche*." He slurs down at you. He's holding the box of biscuits.

You jump back on the counter. It's a little harder on your old joints without Your Vacholier as a middle step, but you make it and- *god damn* he's pushing you off the counter again.

"Enough! Not for cats!" He picks up the box with his free hand, then pours biscuits into your bowl with the other.

Well. You *suppose* they would do. You take greedy mouthfuls and hear Your Vacholier hiccup behind you. Then he's gone. You hear him pick up his ugly fur and hang it on the rack. Then there's clicking as he unbuckles his horrid device, some acrid smelling thing that reeks of fear, and hangs that up too. Boots next. He does this every day, in this order. You hear the one hit the floor, then swearing as he stumbles removing the second. Then he's *laughing*.

You finish your bowl and wander back into the main area. He's sat on the sofa, smiling to himself. "I did *shots* today!" He declares as he opens the paper box. Once again, that wonderful smell washes over you as he pulls something from it. Fried chicken!

You're on the sofa in an instant, climbing first onto his lap, then when he pushes you away with his elbow you change tactics and take to the back of the sofa. He must have eaten most of it on the way home as only a few scraps of chicken remain. More than you'd usually find by the bins however.

"Said I'd win!" He smiles at you before engulfing a strip of chicken. He's not usually this chatty. "S'wot you geh! Neffa fuh wih Kim Kits-" He hiccups again and the smile leaves his face. He swallows. "Ah... This may h- have been theh plan, actually..." You wish he'd talk about something interesting. Like the chicken for example.

You walk onto his shoulder and peer down at the box. He quickly passes it into the other hand and holds it out at arm's length away from you. How rude! You turn your head and meow, loudly, right into his ear.

"Ack!" He swipes backwards at you. "Gerroff!" He grumbles shaking you back onto the sofa.

Fine then! If he wants to withhold his fried meats then you will resume your position of a poor, lowly street cat. The world's favourite punching bag. A martyr for cat kind and enemy of everyone. You heave a heavy sigh and settle into the cushion next to Your Vacholier. You hear him place the box on the arm of the sofa and then more munching.

Then he's scratching the top of your head and you decide you'll let this *second* transgression go. You're benevolent like that. You begin to purr letting your eyes drift shut. You spend a few blissful moments like that, then suddenly that wonderful smell is back and stronger than ever. Your eyes ping open. He's chewed the skin from a piece of chicken and is holding it in front of your nose. You wolf it down in seconds, careful to avoid his leathery paws, and purring tenfold.

When all the chicken's gone he actually picks you up. He usually leaves you to your own devices, but this evening he holds you to his chest and runs long strokes along your back. This is not your preferred way to be pet, but you chose Your Vacholier for two reasons;

One: he had most graciously freed you from your prison some time ago. A benevolence that *had* to be repaid with your presence.

Two: he smells lonely.

The second reason reminds you of your First Vacholier. The old woman who fished you from that wet box, surrounded by your deceased littermates, and fed you milk by bottle until you were well again. You had loved her with all nine lives, then one day that screaming flashing box of metal had taken her away and you never saw her again.

You're pulled from the past as he kisses your crusty head and rises from the sofa. As he stands, he better scratches that favoured area just under your jaw and you drool on his shirt as thanks. The spot always itches. Even now a mass of cells slowly forms there that *nobody* in the building will be able to afford to treat.

But tonight you purr in the arms of Your Vacholier as he sways towards his bedroom. He has gifted you food, and warmth, and a place to sleep without fear of dogs or other cats or men. He has gifted you love.

He drops you at the foot of the bed and braces a hand against his bedside table. Then he grips the end of one sock and whips it off, almost stumbling as he does so. "Aww, fuckit." He mumbles, removing the glass from his face and dropping it on the table with a clatter.

He clambers onto the mattress then falls face first into the pillow. He's purring within the minute, legs still half hanging off the bed. This is ideal as far as you're concerned. You jump onto the back of his thigh and walk up his body, settling into the small of his back.

Tomorrow he will clutch his head and mumble words like 'Bastards' and 'idiot' as he cleans up cat piss and retches. But tonight he shares his bed with you, and the three of you purr; you, him, and La Revacholiere.

[milimeters-morales]

(NOT ATSV) my ideal miguel and miles friendship (bordering on enemies) dynamic is where Miles is sort of a Mean Girls figure where he’ll say the worst things to Miguel, who actually has no problems dishing that shit right back out, is usually too fed up or somewhere else mentally to reply. They fight a lot, more physically than verbally, usually in a slapstick comedy type of way. Miles is banned from Nueva York once a month and got a restraining order against Miguel in his own dimension. His parents fucking hate him and Miguel hates them right back. Rio has tried and failed to poison him via food and Jeff is considering hiring a hitman. Gabriel is beloved by them. Miles takes Miguel’s money at least twice a week to go spend it just because he can. Miguel has tried (and succeeded once) to get Miles sick with a future illness because he figured out the lesbian bar Miguel liked to perform at in drag. Miles has cried at least once in every room of Miguel’s apartment and Miguel has been confused on what to do each time besides an awkward hug and pat on the back. People are rightfully worried for Miles’s safety at least 80% of the time but when they aren’t they’re shaking their heads at the two’s antics. They need to be separated until they have a healthy “this is a grown ass man / this is stupid little girl i don’t like at work” relationship and it’ll take an act of god for either of them to realize their current one isn’t healthy at all and has extremely negative impacts on their mental state.