#you wave and you wave you gay little monkey

[yellowloid]

👋👋👋

[ninjadeathblade]

Shopping Trip (Lego Monkie Kid fanfic)

Summary: The majority of the gang goes shopping. Then Wukong and Macaque play video games.

Warnings: Brief threats, Wukong and Macaque have issues to work through (they're also very dumb about the fact they love each other), swearing

Word count: 6,072

Author's notes: This would NOT leave me alone so here fandom, take the gays residing in my brain for the last two days. Sandy isn't here because I had no idea what he'd be doing. This is 90% indulgent Shadowpeach content for myself but hey, that's something. This is set post Emperor's Wrath. Enjoy.

“Hey, Monkey King, why d'you always wear your fancy robes?” MK questioned after the three of them took a break from training.

Macaque stifled a laugh, looking over at Wukong and revelling in the confusion on his face.

“What do you mean?” Wukong asked around a mouthful of peach flavoured crisps, crunching noisily on them.

MK shrugged and gestured. “You and Macaque always wear your fancy clothes whenever you come and just hang out with us, you can't be comfortable in it.”

“Look, kid, I hate to break it to you but we don't actually own any other clothes,” Macaque replied.

“I can make some though!” Wukong exclaimed, one hand already reaching to yank hair out of his head.

MK and Macaque rushed to stop him, the former tackling his hand still holding the bag of crisps, while the latter reached through a shadow portal to grab his wrist.

“Quit it Wukong, you already eat enough of your hair as it is, no point in you wearing it as well,” Macaque said with an eye roll.

MK’s eyes went round as saucers. “Please tell me that those crisps aren't hair.”

Wukong averted his gaze with a nervous laugh. “Whaaaaat? No, pfft, I'm not that- er-”

“Monkey King! You promised to start eating proper food!” MK whined, poking him in the cheek.

Wukong sighed. “Yeah yeah, I am, kid, I promise, now can I have my arms back?”

Macaque glared at him over MK's head, getting a returning glare.

MK gasped and jumped up, waving his arms wildly. “Oh my gosh, I know just what we should do?”

“Yuh-huh and what's that?” Wukong asked.

“Mei keeps telling me about this super cool new shopping centre that opened up the other week!” MK explained. “What if we all had a day out there and you guys can pick out some comfy clothes for hanging out with us?!”

Macaque shook his head. “Look, kid, I appreciate it but-”

He went silent as something yanked his tail, head whipping around to catch another tail quickly retreating to Wukong's side.

Oh that little-

“It's an amazing idea!” Wukong replied with a grin. “Let us know when you want to do it and we'll be there.”

“Funny how you now speak for both of us,” Macaque muttered, opening up a shadow portal beside him and reaching through to yank Wukong's tail.

The king turned to glare at the warrior, Macaque shooting him a shit-eating grin in return.

“Okay! I'm gonna go, I'm working this evening but I'll see you guys for training again tomorrow!” MK said before beginning to run back down the mountain. “Thanks again for the training!”

A beat went by before the two of them turned to each other.

“You know you could be more supportive of the kid,” Wukong snapped.

“Me? Really? Last I checked you were the one who abandoned his training!” Macaque argued, standing up. “Because that's what you always do isn't it? The great Sun-Wukong who always puts himself first.”

Wukong's jaw clenched, tail lashing behind him, and for a moment it seemed like they were going to fight again.

Then the king's shoulders heaved and his posture slouched. “Can we not do this right now?”

Macaque rolled his shoulders, the joints clicking slightly. “Running off again?”

“Can you stop?!” Wukong shouted. “I don't know what you want from me but you're not gonna get a rise. I'm done with this - with you always trying to bait me into another fight. I have people to look out for now.”

Macaque scoffed. “You can't tell me you actually care about the kid.”

“Bold words from someone who also cares about him,” Wukong retorted and Macaque's fur bristled. “Oh yeah, don't think I haven't noticed. While I was off doing very important things, you kept showing back up. Some part of you does actually care about MK, be honest.”

“Nope, doesn't sound like me,” Macaque stated, tail tapping against the ground twice as he opened up a shadow portal. “See you around, Monkey King.”

Wukong dashed forward, one arm outstretched. “No, wait, Macaque-”

The darkness surrounding him.

Silence.

Well, it wasn't quite silent, it sounded like everything was muffled and underwater.

Macaque took a deep breath, artificial air expanding his lungs.

Wukong was still there although it was like seeing him through murky glass, thumping a fist against the shadows on the ground before giving up and walking away.

Macaque floated in the inky expanse, debating on whether or not to return to his dojo before deciding that he would just stay here for now.

It was peaceful.

It was everything that outside wasn't.

~•~

“Hey boi!” Mei cheered, tackling MK into a hug before waving at Wukong. “Heya Monkey King!”

“Hey,” Wukong waved, pulling his loaned hoodie further over his head. “Hey bud, you sure that no one's gonna recognise me in this?”

“I dunno honestly but if not you can transform, right?” MK argued.

“Fair point.”

“I still do not understand why I have to be here,” Red Son complained, foot tapping impatiently. “If we are all here then can we go already?”

“No, sorry, we're still waiting on someone else,” Tang answered.

“Who else are we waiting for?” Wukong questioned. “The pig guy?”

Tang adjusted his scarf. “Oh no, Pigsy is at that food stall over there shouting at the chef because he sold us half baked churros while we were waiting.” He paused. “Speaking of, I'm going to go stop Pigsy before he ends up in too much trouble.”

“Literally who else would MK invite?” Wukong's eyes narrowed in confusion. “I don't even understand why Red Son is here.”

“Hey!”

“I swear if you invited Nezha then this is going to be the most boring shopping trip ever.”

“Ugh, I wish he'd invited Nezha, then I'd have someone else to make fun of you with.”

Wukong spun around with a curse, glaring at their final arrival, who hadn't even bothered with a disguise.

“Great, just great.”

Macaque shrugged. “Hey, I don't want to be here any more than you want me to be here. Only reason I'm tagging along is that I was planning to grab some food anyway.”

“But we're meant to be clothes shopping,” Mei interrupted, eyes watery as she stared up at the warrior.

“Yeah Macaque, you promised,” MK added, also staring up with large eyes.

“Look kid I didn't-” The warrior paused and sighed. “Fine, I'll buy some clothes. But I'm picking what I get, not you guys.”

The two of them let out a cheer and rushed back over to Red Son, beginning to drag him in the direction of a shop.

“I cannot believe that I'm gonna have to put up with you today,” Wukong groaned as the two of them set off after the trio.

“Hey, you're the one who volunteered me for this so if there's anyone to blame it's yourself,” Macaque responded.

Mei and MK had seemed to immediately start piling clothes into their arms, occasionally thrusting some pieces into Red Son's arms.

Wukong stumbled backwards slightly when MK seemed to just appear in front of him, holding up two pairs of pyjamas. “Hey Monkey King! Should we get these matching Monkey King™ pyjamas?”

“Hey kiddo, I'm wearing a disguise for a reason so maybe keep your voice down,” Wukong chuckled. “But yeah, absolutely.”

The king turned to glare at Macaque when the warrior snickered.

“Something funny?”

“No, it's nothing,” Macaque lied, one hand coming up to try and cover the smile on his face.

Wukong let out a loud, over-dramatic gasp. “Are you making fun of my bond with my apprentice? Are you making fun of our super duper cool friendship?”

“No,” Macaque sputtered, trying to get his laughter under control.

Wukong leaned in, poking him in the face. “You are! How could you?”

Macaque stopped trying to contain his laughter at the theatrics, golden eyes screwing up tight as he nearly doubled over.

Wukong's smile wavered as his gaze flitted across the warrior's face.

He knew realistically why Macaque would cover up his eye.

Seeing his unmarred face and having these moments made it almost seem like nothing had ever gone wrong between them.

When Macaque straightened up again he shot Wukong a quick glance, accompanied with a shy smile before returning his attention to the shop in front of them. “C'mon then, no point standing around all day. Gotta find you something to wear other than pyjamas.”

“Yeah and we've gotta find you anything to wear,” Wukong teased. “What do you even wear? Like, leather jacket and grunge aesthetic boots.”

“How the fuck do you know what an aesthetic is?” Macaque swore, turning back to face him.

The king shrugged nonchalantly and grinned. “What can I say, I guess I'm just cool like the kids are.”

The warrior snorted. “Yeah right, the day that you're cool is the day I haven't died before.”

A silence fell between them at that comment and something flickered over Macaque's features.

Wukong reached out to him before the shadow slipped away from him, walking over to a rack of darkly coloured clothes.

There was so much they still needed to talk about.

Macaque flicked through the different hanging articles before smirking. “So, what about the fact that Red Son has a crush on either MK or Mei?”

“Wait, what?” Wukong spluttered.

“When the three of them were together back there, Red Son was blushing and stuff. Can't tell which of them is making him fall for them but I'm not actually that surprised.”

Wukong stood stock still for a moment, doing a mental reboot while Macaque moved on.

“Wait, no, hold on you little shit, are you for real?” Wukong questioned.

Macaque nodded. “When we catch up to them, just watch. I wouldn't lie, would I?”

“I dunno, seems like you lie a lot.” Wukong narrowed his eyes dubiously.

“Well, I'm not lying about that.”

They wandered for a little longer before managing to catch up with the trio.

Okay, Wukong had to hand it to Macaque, Red Son did seem to be blushing.

“Hey, Monkey King, you made it! We lost you back there!” MK cheered before turning back to Mei. “Ooh, Mei, do you still have the thing we picked out for Macaque?”

“Kid I don't-”

“Found it!” Mei announced, holding up the black mesh shirt.

Macaque's gaze dragged over it before extending a hand. “Okay, I'll try it on.”

Wukong did a double take. “You like mesh?”

“Haven't tried it before but it looks cool enough. If I can get something to go over it then I'd probably like it.”

Red Son held up a black sleeveless turtleneck shirt from the pile in his arms. “Something like this?”

Macaque shifted the first shirt in his grip before reaching out for the other. “Sounds good.”

“Oh and there are some dark coloured jeans by the changing rooms, wanna grab a pair of those?” MK offered.

“Mhm.”

Wukong trailed behind the bunch of them, briefly wondering where Tang and Pigsy had gotten to.

Him and MK plopped down onto a bench just outside the changing rooms, MK's stack of clothes beside him.

“I'm gonna try them on after the others have tried theirs,” MK explained. “Wait a minute, why don't you have anything Monkey King?”

“Um, well, I just didn't see anything I liked all that much, bud,” Wukong lied.

“Oh okay.”

The boy got out his phone, playing some obnoxiously loud game while they waited for the others to get changed.

“Okay, we're done!” Mei called after a while.

“Come out then!” MK shouted back, shutting his phone off and putting it back in his pocket.

“Macaque, you coming?”

“Nope.”

“Aw, come on, pretty please? You look great!”

“...Fine.”

Mei stepped out, practically dragging Red Son and Macaque with her.

And wow, Macaque actually looked kind of good.

The clothes actually suited him.

The warrior wrenched Mei's iron grip off his arm before grumpily crossing his arms over his chest.

“Woah, you guys look awesome!” MK gasped, clapping his hands together.

Macaque rolled his eyes and frowned when he looked over at Wukong. “Quit staring, Wukong, don't you know it's impolite?”

Wukong smirked. “Thought you said I was impolite.”

“Yeah, I know that you are. Doesn't mean you have to give me more reasons for it,” the warrior complained before looking over at Mei. “Hey, can we wrap this up and buy this stuff already?”

“Nu-uh, we've still got loads of outfits to try on! You and Monkey King can wait here while we finish checking all these sick clothes out,” Mei replied.

Macaque grumbled something under his breath before going back to the changing room.

Three pairs of eyes turned to Wukong. “He's just always kinda cranky, trust me.”

“I heard that!”

~•~

“Ugh, how much sugar did you even put in that thing?” Macaque asked, nose wrinkling with disgust at the sweet scent coming off of Wukong's drink.

Wukong moved the glass away from his face, a bit of cream smeared on his nose. “Um, I dunno. It has chocolate, ice cream, sprinkles, some more chocolate, some normal cream, some kinda sweet milk, caramel-”

Macaque reached out and grabbed the drink out of his hand while he was distracted listing ingredients, holding it out of his reach. “You are going to clog an artery if you have that much sugar.”

Wukong pouted. “Macaque! Gimme back my drink!”

Macaque opened up a shadow portal under his hand, hovering the drink just above it. “You aren't going to have all of it to yourself or you will die.”

“I'm immortal, I can't die,” Wukong retorted.

Oh yeah.

“You aren't going to have it all to yourself or I'll steal all the wine you're hiding at your place.”

Wukong's eyes went wide and he leaned across Macaque, desperately attempting to grab it. “No! No! Fine, I'll share! Just gimme the drink!”

Macaque dropped the drink through the shadow portal, watching as Wukong's face fell.

As the king turned back to the table the warrior opened a portal again, depositing the drink - now with two straws - back in front of him.

“Come on, if you're going to clog an artery then I might as well do it with you.”

Wukong shot him a quick glare but moved the glass so it was between them.

Red Son slid back into their booth. “They're still ordering but wanted me to say they'll be back soon.”

Macaque glanced over to the counter where Mei and MK seemed to be arguing over the menu of sweet treats.

“May I ask a question?” Red Son asked.

“You just did,” Wukong teased.

The boy rolled his eyes. “May I ask another question after the one I am asking at this moment?”

“Mmmmkay.”

Macaque lowered his head to take a sip of the drink, throat burning at how sickly sweet it was.

He'd never understand how Wukong could stomach these things.

“Are you two in a relationship?”

Macaque choked on his drink and Wukong hit him on the back a few times while replying.

“No, never! Me? With him? Tch, as if! He's so- him! And I'm so me!” The king answered.

Macaque gulped in a lungful of air after recovering. “This is the one time we agree on something and it's that we are not a thing. I hate him, he makes me feel like my skin is on the outside and my fur is on the inside. I'd rather have my heart served up on a platter to the Lady Bone Demon than go out with him.”

“Ew, did you have to be so graphic?” Wukong complained. “You're gonna put me off my drink.”

“Good. It tastes like shit.”

“Because you have no tastes.”

“I do have tastes. Anyway, you seemed to conveniently leave out the fact that this drink is peach flavoured.”

Wukong shrugged and smiled. “It's my favourite.”

“You sure you didn't make this out of your hair?” Macaque questioned, lip curling in disgust.

Red Son huffed. “No, I paid for his drink. And there's no need for you two to be so defensive.”

“We're back!” MK announced, flopping down against Red Son's side. “What did we miss?”

“Ah, yes, you are back,” Red Son flustered.

Macaque and Wukong shared a look.

So that's who Red Son liked then.

“Duh, that's what I just said,” MK laughed.

“We ordered every dessert they had!” Mei announced.

“Oh no,” Macaque whispered.

“Oh yes,” Wukong purred, eyes lighting up. “Desserts for everyone!”

The warrior dropped his head to rest against the table, grimacing at how sticky it seemed to be. “Why did I ever let myself be dragged along here?”

“Because you're our friend!” MK said.

“Greeaaaat.”

~•~

“Omg, these stationary sets are so naturecore, I have to have them for my aesthetics blog,” Mei gasped.

Wukong nudged Macaque to grab his attention before whispering. “Hey, d'you have any idea what that means?”

“No idea,” Macaque admitted. “As established earlier, I know aesthetic but that's about it.” The warrior smirked. “Aren't you the one who's ‘cool like the kids are’?”

“Shuddup,” Wukong laughed.

Macaque's tail flicked up to hit him in the back of the head before looking around. “So, we kinda lost Pigsy and Tang at the start.”

“Yeah, it'll be fine,” the king replied calmly, waving it off.

“Maybe for you. I for one would like to not be on kid sitting duty for the next decade.”

“It's only been two hours,” Wukong stated, snickering at the defeated groan Macaque let out. “What's wrong? Too old to keep up?”

“Wha- no,” Macaque denied sourly before continuing. “My feet hurt though. I'm not used to walking around this much. Usually I just use my shadows to get places.”

Wukong sighed before holding out his arms.

The warrior stared blankly at him.

“Climb on, I'll carry you,” the king offered.

Macaque immediately began to walk away from him. “Nope, nu-uh, never happening, find someone else prince fucking charming.”

“Come on Macaque, your pride won't be that wounded if you let yourself take a break,” Wukong whined, following him.

The shadow’s tail lashed behind him as he walked through the aisles of the shop, trying to catch up to wherever the other three had run off to. “I'll take a break when I get home later. Feet being sore isn't the worst thing I've had to deal with.”

Unspoken words hung between them and Wukong followed Macaque silently until they reached the trio, staring at row upon row of cards.

“Hey guys, whatcha looking at?” Wukong inquired, propping his head on MK's shoulder.

“We're helping Mei pick out a card for her dad's birthday,” MK explained.

“You could make one,” Red Son added. “Although didn't you say it's tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Mei groaned. “I was so busy helping MK train that I forgot.”

“You forgor,” MK said.

“I forgor,” Mei affirmed.

Wukong straightened back up, whispering. “What language is this?”

“No idea,” Macaque said.

“No idea what?” Mei asked.

“Nothing.”

“‘kay.”

Wukong smiled at Macaque.

The shadow returned it with a small quirk of his mouth.

It wasn't much but it was better than it had been.

~•~

“That's it, I am not being dragged into a spa, I'm calling Pigsy,” Macaque said, digging his phone out his pocket.

“You have Pigsy's number?” Wukong asked beside him before continuing. “You have a phone?”

“Yeah, and?” Macaque tapped onto his contacts. “Got Pigsy's number after the kid crashed out at my place one time. Also he makes good noodles.”

“I know right?” Wukong agreed, mouth practically watering.

“Hello! Pigsy's Noodles, how can I-”

“Cut the crap Pigsy, your kids are trying to drag me into a spa and I know that you and Tang are still somewhere in this shopping centre.”

“Oh fuc- okay, where are you guys, I'll come and get ‘em,” Pigsy sighed.

“Seventh floor, top right corner, next to the arcade place.”

“Wait, there's an arcade place next door and they chose to go to the spa instead?” Tang questioned.

“Red Son is trying to convince us all to get princess pamper sessions before we get wrecked and lose all our money to useless games,” Macaque explained.

“That'd do it. We'll be there in a few.”

Macaque hung up, quirking an eyebrow at Wukong's sad expression. “What do you want now?”

“You're gonna ruin their fun,” Wukong complained, gesturing at where the three others were currently crashed out on a bench.

“No, I'm just getting us the rest of the evening off,” Macaque argued.

When Wukong still looked upset he sighed.

“If I play your shitty game this evening will that make it up to you?”

Wukong brightened up. “Yes! Although it isn't shitty, take that back.”

“Maybe. Depends on how good your game is.”

Macaque looked over at the trio. “Hey, Red Son, a word.”

The boy seemed sheepish as he walked over, a sharp contrast to his usual confident demeanour. “Yes?”

“You break MK’s heart and I'll break all your bones,” Macaque snarled quietly.

“Okay so you're just coming out with it,” Wukong muttered.

“P-pardon?” Red Son stuttered, hair letting off embers.

“You aren't subtle. So you heard me. If you break his heart, I will break all your bones.”

Red Son swallowed thickly. “Y-yes sir.”

“Good.”

MK walked up beside them. “What're you guys talking about?”

“We were just saying goodbye,” Wukong supplied, somehow having come up with a good excuse for once in his long life.

“Oh cool. I'm sleeping around Red Son's tonight so won't be able to make it to training tomorrow, is that okay?” MK said.

Macaque subtly shot Red Son a glare while he replied to MK. “That's fine, see you in a few days kid.”

The warrior opened up a shadow underneath himself and the king.

“No, no, no, no, no, not the shadow portal!”

~•~

“Ugh, I think I'm gonna throw up,” Wukong complained as he dropped out of the shadow portal.

“Too bad, you fly your cloud recklessly and the shadows are quicker,” Macaque replied, dropping down beside him before opening up their shared bag of shopping purchases and grabbing out a handful of clothes. “I'm gonna get changed then I'm ordering actual food for dinner.”

“But my way is cheaper!”

“Yeah, and it'll have you hacking up furballs until your eventual death, Wukong,” Macaque snorted, shutting himself into the bathroom.

Wukong rooted around in the bag and grabbed out one of the plain shirts he'd picked out, slipping off his robes and putting on the black t-shirt before grabbing a pair of loose blue jeans out of the bag.

The king settled down on the sofa, aimlessly flicking through channels on his TV until his tail brushed against someone else.

Wukong lifted his head up, staring at Macaque.

The warrior practically had a halo of light around his head from the setting sun behind him, a sliver of yellow fabric visible under his dark hoodie.

“Hey. You up for burning off some energy?” Macaque proposed and Wukong was in his feet within seconds.

“We haven't fought in ages,” Wukong sceptically tested.

Macaque shrugged. “Nothing serious. But I need to stretch out my limbs and test how flexible I am in these clothes.”

Wukong dragged his eyes up and down Macaque. “Mhm, because ripped jeans are gonna be sooo easy to move around in. Prepare to be beat.”

Macaque smirked, sweeping out one leg and knocking Wukong off balance.

“H-hey! No fair!” Wukong growled, reaching up and tugging Macaque down with the edge of his hoodie.

The warrior let out a squeak, collapsing down beside the king before going still.

“Oh shit. Macaque? You good, bud?” Wukong questioned, moving closer.

Macaque spun around, hands catching Wukong's and pinning them against the floor. “I cannot believe you just fell for that.”

“Yeah, well, it's been years since you played that card while we've fought,” Wukong argued, one leg kicking out and into Macaque's stomach.

The warrior's grip on his hands loosened, allowing the king to flip the two of them over as he hovered over him.

His hands closed around Macaque's, mimicking the move just used on him.

“Not so cocky now, huh?” Wukong challenged.

Macaque just laughed and rolled his eyes, opening up a shadow portal underneath himself.

Wukong pulled back, watching as the other sank into the floor and disappeared before a weight crashed down on his back.

“Fuck! Macaque!”

“Got you now,” Macaque taunted, the two of them rolling back and forth until Macaque pinned Wukong down.

The warrior was just shy of sitting on him, chest heaving as he breathed.

Wukong sighed. “Yeah, alright Mac, you win, now get off of me.”

The shadow paused, golden eyes staring at him.

“What?” Wukong inquired.

“You haven't called me Mac since- since before,” Macaque stated, his grip on Wukong's hands loosening.

Orange and pink hues of light shone off of his dark fur.

It was beautiful.

He was beautiful.

“No, no I guess not,” Wukong murmured.

Macaque rolled onto the floor beside him, both of them staring up at the ceiling.

“So, if Red Son does break MK's heart we are absolutely going to ruin his life, right?” Macaque questioned.

Wukong rolled onto his side, staring at Macaque.

Tufts of dark hair stuck up in different directions, framing his face.

The king reached out with a hand before hesitating when the warrior flinched, eyes closing.

A long moment passed, before Macaque quickly got up, with a mumbled sentence. “I'm going to order dinner.”

“Yeah, okay,” Wukong responded, mentally kicking himself.

Of course Macaque still didn't trust him, why should he?

After everything Wukong had done, he had no reason to.

“Hey, Wukong, how many portions should I order you?” Macaque asked, one hand muffling the bottom of his phone.

“Three, if that's okay,” Wukong answered.

Macaque nodded before continuing to quietly speak to whoever was on the other end of the line.

Wukong walked back over to the sofa, sitting down and trying to avoid looking at his friend.

Huh.

When had he started thinking of Macaque as a friend again?

The other side of the sofa dipped as weight settled down on it.

“I'm sorry for flinching,” Macaque whispered. “Really going against my therapy goals.”

Wukong blinked before looking over at him. “You go to therapy?”

Macaque's tail wrapped across his chest, curling over his opposite shoulder. “Well, I'm trying. Kind of hard though when most therapists are mortal and I have issues with opening up about things from my past.”

The shadow let out a deep breath before slowly relaxing against the king's side. “Is… is this okay?”

“Yeah, no, of course,” Wukong flustered a bit, shifting so that Macaque would be more comfortable.

Wukong turned so his back was resting against the arm of the sofa, one arm circling around Macaque's waist.

The warrior tensed under his touch slightly before relaxing back against him, pillowing his head on the king's chest. “You sure you're okay with this?”

“Geez Mac, I'm fine,” Wukong responded. “Are we gonna start playing my game now or d'you want to wait until after dinner?”

“After dinner. I want to get some rest in,” Macaque sighed, opening up a shadow portal over the top half of his head. “I'll wake up when the food gets delivered, I'll hear it. You should get some rest too.”

“Yeah alright. You get some rest.”

“Thanks Wukong.”

“No problem bud.”

~•~

Macaque's ear flicked inside the portal as footsteps ran up to the door of his dojo.

“Hold on,” he murmured to Wukong, unsure whether his friend was even awake before sitting up and slipping his upper body through the shadow portal.

“Knock knock!” The delivery boy shouted as Macaque reached over to open the door.

MK grinned and held up the couple of bags in his arms. “Hey Macaque! This is more than you usually order.”

“Yeah, well, I've got company,” Macaque said evasively.

“Is it Monkey King?”

“Nah, I have other friends,” Macaque lied, reaching out with one hand for the bags. “Aren’t you meant to be staying around Red Son's?”

“Yeah, I'm headed there after this,” MK explained.

“Have a good sleepover, kid.”

“You too Macaque!”

“No, kid, I'm not having a-”

“Bye Macaque!”

The shadow sighed, shutting and locking his door before slipping back through the portal to Wukong's house.

The king was still passed out on the sofa, snoring at an obnoxious volume.

Or perhaps it was actually quiet, and Macaque's sensitive hearing was getting to him more than usual.

“Hey, wake up.”

Wukong blinked awake, sitting up before his mouth watered at the sight of the takeaway bags. “Oh yes.”

Macaque rolled his eyes but passed over the three portions Wukong had asked for. “You know, if you keep eating that many portions then you're going to get fat.”

Wukong let out an offended gasp before shovelling some of the noodles into his open mouth. “No I'm not.”

“You are,” Macaque replied, teasingly poking him on the stomach. “See? Round.”

“It's cushioning. For when I may somehow end up on the floor,” Wukong explained.

“Because I beat you up,” Macaque snickered, opening up his own meal while Wukong began to dig into his second.

“Shuddup.”

“Make me,” Macaque challenged, tail lashing behind him.

Wukong's golden gaze flitted across him before he went back to his meal.

“That's what I thought.”

After they'd finished their meal, Macaque let out a sigh. “Alright then, put on your crappy game.”

“It's not crappy!” Wukong protested, already digging through the piles of DVDs in front of his TV. “Alright, found it. Get ready for the best game you'll ever play.”

“I highly doubt it,” Macaque mumbled, nearly dropping the headset and controller thrown haphazardly in his general direction.

“What was that?”

“I said ‘I highly doubt it���,” Macaque deadpanned. “This won't be anywhere near as good as my game.”

“You have a game?” Wukong laughed, plopping back down on the sofa beside him. “Okay, that I have to play after you're done with this.”

Macaque let out a grumble but adjusted the headset before putting it on, slouching against Wukong's side as the game registered him in.

An avatar looking surprisingly like him loaded in on a dirt path, a chicken running out of a bush in front of him before glitching and dying.

“Wow. What a surprise, I was right, this game sucks,” Macaque huffed.

The king's tail flicked up to curl around the warrior's arm. “Aww, c'mon Mac, give it a chance at least.”

Macaque sighed but began to walk his character along the path, stopped only a second later as another character spawned in front of him.

“Welcome traveller, on your journey to the west!” The Monkey King greeted.

The background image switched so the character was pointing at himself. “As the Great Sage equal to Heaven, you couldn't ask for a better tutor.” The screen switched back to the first picture of him. “On your journey, you will learn to smite powerful enemies.”

God this was boring.

“After you complete the tutorials, you will learn how to access your hidden potential.”

Ugh, good, back to the overworld.

Now if he could just-

“Defeat each opponent to work your way up to the final boss, the Rhino King,” Monkey King said.

“Couldn't afford the rights for Demon Bull King?” Macaque joked, elbowing Wukong in the side.

“Nah, just seemed boring seeing as I already beat him.”

“Here are seventy two combos-”

Skip.

“Pay attention-”

Skip.

“Make many friends along the way,” Monkey King advised and Macaque tore off his headset.

“What the fuck is that background art?!” The shadow screamed.

The king grinned. “Flattering, right? You would not believe how quickly the game sold out.”

“That's atrocious!” Macaque shouted, hitting him on the head before putting the headset back on.

Yeah, no, he was skipping through all of this.

Eventually it let him go and unlock abilities.

“Hey, these are all passive,” Macaque pointed out.

“Just give it a moment,” Wukong instructed.

The monk on the screen sighed before it flicked to a different ability menu.

Macaque's eyes roved over the screen before he took off the headset.

“Really?”

“What?”

“A fucking muscle bro version of yourself in just pants taking up half the screen?” Macaque growled because it was very obvious why he was pissed.

Wukong smirked. “What? I think it's a good view.”

“Self obsessed asshole,” Macaque grumbled, trying to just focus on buying a couple of different attacks before giving up and handing the game controller and headset over to Wukong. “No, I can't do this, this is just something for you to admire yourself.”

“Fiiiiine,” Wukong groaned. “But I want to play your game now.”

Macaque opened up a shadow portal, sticking his arm in and rooting around. “Seriously though Wukong, are you trying to seduce the player or something?”

Wukong grinned slyly at him. “Are you saying I'm hot?”

Macaque's face screwed up. “...No.”

“That's it, the Six-eared Macaque thinks I'm hot!” Wukong shouted before getting up and racing to the entrance of his house and cupping his hands around his mouth. “The Six-eared Macaque thinks that Sun-Wukong, Great Sage equal to Heaven, is hot!”

“Shut up,” Macaque said, withdrawing his hand and tossing the game case to Wukong as he walked back over.

“It looks like it was made by a five year old mortal,” Wukong giggled but put the disc in anyway.

When the king settled back down on the sofa, the warrior stretched out, laying his upper body across his friend's lap.

“And what do you think you're doing?” Wukong questioned before slipping the headset on.

“Making myself comfy.”

“Yeah yeah, I'm gonna beat this game in minutes.”

A moment passed as the game loaded.

“Why does everything look like a crappy anime?” Wukong inquired.

“Fuck you.”

~•~

“This is the fourth time I've done this encounter and I still haven't beaten it!” Wukong whined, throwing the controller across the room.

“Aww, too hard for you?” Macaque teased, not even cracking open an eye.

“Pfft, n-no!” Wukong floundered, taking off the headset and putting it on the floor. “I'm just going to take a break.”

“Sure you are,” Macaque snorted, opening his eyes a sliver.

Wukong stared, stock still, not sure if Macaque had realised that the glamour over his eye was down.

The scar over that side of his face was still hidden, but mismatching gold and milk coloured eyes fixed a tired gaze on him.

“Staring is rude,” Macaque murmured.

Wukong blinked, looking away. “Yeah, sorry.”

Macaque sat up, stretching with a yawn, hoodie riding up his sides slightly and exposing the yellow shirt he had on underneath.

It was surprisingly nice to see Macaque in bright colours.

Wukong reached out a hand to skim over the dark fur that stuck up on one side of his head, smiling softly when Macaque didn't flinch away.

“Hey, are your ears okay?” Wukong suddenly asked.

Macaque turned to face him, eyes back to their glamoured gold again. “Huh?”

“Well we were at a pretty busy place for most of today so I was wondering whether it was hard on your ears.”

Macaque seemed to blush. “Oh, no, they're all okay.”

The king's hand dropped to skim closer to where another two pairs of ears had to be hidden on the warrior. “Can I see them again?”

Macaque's eyes went wide and Wukong quickly withdrew his hand. “I'm sorry, you don't have to-”

The glamours dropped.

Wukong couldn't help but stare at the hues of colour on Macaque's ears, having nearly forgotten them over the centuries.

But there they were again, still with such resplendent glory.

Moonlight shone through the window, catching the back of Macaque's face with rays of light that made him shine.

“Rude to stare,” Macaque repeated, seeming to curl in on himself slightly.

“You're beautiful,” Wukong murmured, trying to ingrain this in his memory.

Maybe then he would have something to keep when they eventually fought again.

And just like that the glamours were back up, hiding Macaque's appearance behind a facade.

“I- I should go,” Macaque stammered, standing up and conjuring a portal in the floor.

“No, Mac, wait, I'm sorry-”

Too late.

His warrior was gone again, leaving him alone again.

Wukong sighed and dropped his head against the back of the sofa. “Idiot.”

[catonator]

News for Gamers

So the most notable recent gaming news is that there’s going to be a whole lot less gaming news going forward. Which to most of you is probably a massive win. See, IGN announced that they’ve bought roundabout half of the remaining industry that isn’t IGN, and with online news also dying a slow death due to the approaching new wave of journalism called “absolutely nothing”, I can’t imagine IGN and its newly acquired subsidiaries are long for this world.

Not too long ago, I was studying some magazines for my Alan Wake development history categorization project (please don’t ask), and reading the articles in these magazines led me to a startling realisation: Holy shit! This piece of gaming news media doesn’t make me want to kill myself out of second hand embarrassment!

Many of the magazines of yesteryear typically went with the approach of “spend weeks and sometimes months researching the article, and write as concise a section as you can with the contents”. Every magazine contains at least 2 big several-page spreads of some fledgeling investigative journalist talking to a bunch of basement-dwelling nerd developers and explaining their existence to the virginal minds of the general public.

Contrast this to modern journalism which goes something like:

Pick subject

Write title

???

Publish

Using this handy guide, let’s construct an article for, oh I dunno, let’s say Kotaku.

First we pick a subject. Let’s see… a game that’s coming out in the not too distant future…Let’s go within Super Monkey Ball: Banana Rumble. Now we invent a reason to talk about it. Generally this’d be a twitter post by someone with 2 followers or something. I’ll search for the series and pick the newest tweet.

Perfect. Finally we need an entirely unrelated game series that has way more clout to attach to the title… What else features platforming and a ball form… Oh, wait. I have the perfect candidate! Thus we have our title:

Sonic-like Super Monkey Ball: Banana Rumble rumoured to have a gay protagonist

What? The contents of the article? Who cares! With the invention of this newfangled concept called “social media”, 90% of the users are content with just whining about the imagined contents of the article based on the title alone. The remaining 10% who did actually click on the article for real can be turned away by just covering the site in popups about newsletters, cookies, login prompts and AI chatbots until  they get tired of clicking the X buttons. This way, we can avoid writing anything in the content field, and leave it entirely filled with lorem ipsum.

Somewhere along the way from the 2000s to now, we essentially dropped 99% of the “media” out of newsmedia. News now is basically a really shit title and nothing more. Back in the day, when newscycles were slower, most articles could feature long interviews with the developers, showing more than just shiny screenshots, but also developer intentions, hopes, backgrounds and more.

Newsmedia is the tongues that connects the audience and the developers in the great french kiss of marketing video games. Marketing departments generally hold up the flashiest part of the game up for people to gawk at, but that also tells the audience very little about the game in the end, other than some sparse gameplay details. It was the job of the journalist to bring that information across to the slightly more perceptive core audiences. Now with the backing of media gone, a very crucial part of the game development process is entirely missing.

It’s easier to appreciate things when they’re gone I suppose. But at the same time, since gaming journalism is slowly dying from strangling itself while also blaming everything around it for that, there is a sizable gap in the market for newer, more visceral newshounds. So who knows, maybe someone of the few people reading my blogs could make the next big internet gaming ‘zine? Because I’m pretty sure anyone here capable of stringing more than two sentences together is a more adept writer than anyone at Kotaku right now.

[performativezippers]

have you ever read the His Dark Materials series? if so, what daemons do you think the ncis hawaii team would have?

oh my goodness great question. (a) have been obsessed with His Dark Materials since i was approximately eight years old, and (b) let me think about this.

Jesse's I think would be a dog. Like a big, 70-80 pound mutt that might look a little intimidating but is really a big ole baby who sleeps in the bed and loves to cuddle. She could tear the shit out of someone though, and would, and does, if she needs to. She's often found napping in a pile with Jesse's kids and their daemons, and she's be the first to break the don't-touch-other-people rule if another member of the team is hurt.

Kai's, I'm thinking a bird. Maybe a small hawk or falcon. One that could enjoy soaring in the air when he's at sea, perch on his surfboard when he's waiting to catch a wave, chirps incessantly when hungry and then eats fastidiously--not a single entrail left behind--and then grooms Kai's hair in thanks. She's a surprisingly cuddly bird, and anyone who knows them very, very well knows that when Kai is upset, she'll open a wing for him to rest his head against her chest, or will climb into his lap to doze against him. She loves having her chest feathers scratched (by him ONLY) and she can come out of fucking nowhere to scratch, claw out the eyes, or knock bad guys out with stooping rakes or punches to defend Kai. She has a truly bloodthirsty shriek. She and Lucy have a great affinity for each other and she loves to tease Kai.

Ernie's is maybe a small lemur, some kind of small monkey with big eyes that's too smart for her own good. She's always getting into trouble, poking her round little head where it doesn't belong and bringing back all kinds of gossip and government secrets. Ernie, in comparison, is a paragon of restraint. She's a trickster, the kind of person who would text Lucy and Kate "from Ernie" to get them to end up a bar alone together and would have absolutely zero remorse for it. She's not super cuddly, but she does love sitting right in front of Ernie on his desk when he games or hacks, watching with her little jaw a little bit open.

Jane's is a raven. Enormous, smart as a whip, sarcastic. Independent but fiercely loyal, totally black sense of humor. He counterbalances all of Jane's ernest, caring mom energy with sarcastic gay uncle energy. He's a great scout with an eidetic memory—he can repeat full conversations between multiple people even weeks later. He likes to entertain Jane and her kids and the team by replaying conversations complete with eerily accurate impressions of each voice. He's a brilliant strategist and loves a good fight. His beak and talons are no joke, and he laughs whenever Kai's daemon acts like she's the better fighter between the two of them.

Lucy's is a panther. She's not as big as an animal panther, but she's still fucking big. She can fold herself up pretty small into a ball of cat, or keep her head ducked down so she looks smaller than she is, but piss her off or watch her stretch, and damn! That cat is fucking big. She's stealthy and quiet when she needs to be, but her comfortable, natural state is quite chatty. The joke is that people are like "oh tiny cop, has to rely on her big ass daemon to protect her" and Saffiyah is like "lol," literally yawns, lays down, and closes her eyes when Lucy's fighting. It's all a performance—she'd jump up and rip the leg off a human being if she needed to—but she knows exactly how much Lucy can handle and she doesn't so much as twitch her tail until it gets to that point. That's even scarier for the dudes Lucy's fighting, that the tiny lady is taking on these dudes AND their daemons, and her fucking apex predator is just napping nearby. It's totally psychological warfare, and Saffiyah fucking loves it. She's less cuddly than you'd think, only Ernie and later Kate really ever seeing the extent to which she curls around Lucy and offers soft, fluffy, wordless comfort.

Kate's is the only daemon not suited for combat. Hers is a ferret, a small one. He can curl into a ball that almost fits in one hand. He's often found in her pocket or purse, or, when she's alone, draped across her neck. He's very quiet, doesn't say much, and a hidden camera would see him often staring into Kate's eyes with overflowing love. Kate's emotional walls are always up, but not between her and him. He tries to give her everything she won't let the rest of the world give her. He's surprisingly opinionated and has meticulously high standards. He doesn't have much of a sense of humor, but he's steady and warm to Kate. Most other people don't even see him—he's such a softness, so revealing of a part of Kate that she outwardly pretends doesn't exist, that Kate usually keeps him tucked away. He hates Cara, likes Jane, quietly giggles at Jesse and Kai's daemons, and he, in a way that's extremely out of character, absolutely loves Lucy. He doesn't let Lucy touch him for a long time, not until a few months after the grand gesture, but even before Cara ruins shit, he will sometimes curl up into a small ball of ferret on top of Saffiyah's back.

Bam Bam's is a snake.

[resident-gay-bitch]

bro, i was just listening to metallica’s seek and destroy on the drive home from work and a tinsy little thought popped into my head and now my brain in invaded by the absolute brilliant idea of the marauders band au.

like, here:

sirius: he’s lead like hetfeild on vocals and guitar - desired by men and women alike - much like damino from måneskin - he’s the heartthrob

remus: lead guitar - also desired by men and women alike but he’s more quiet and reserved - but he playes with heart and soul and i’m getting thomas from måneskin vibes - he’s the mysterious one

james: he’s the drummer because he’s got the muscle for it - also desired by men and women alike obviously but he’s only got eyes for one - litteraly puts his heart and sole into hitting those drums and breaks so many goddamned sticks it’s a wonder how he doesn’t run out - he’s the odd one out too, he’s a little rat if fucking sunshine and everyone finds him adorable

lily: she’s on bass and it’s major vic from måneskin vibes - everyone wants her but she just looks at the ladies - she’s also very close with remus and all the super hetero followers believe they’re doing it but they most certainly are not - she looks like the craziest one of all of them but in reality she has the clearest head.

i’m picturing they’re a metal band too, and they also drabble in punk rock and similar genres. they always match outfits and involve the crowd in the coolest ways. sirius’s idol is freddie, so he pays ode to him most concerts. remus extremely admires bowie so they have a bunch of covers of his songs and sometimes come out with red and blue lighting incoperated into their fits.

there is major tension between sirius and remus on stage. often remus does backup vocals so they’ll lean into the same microphone and be so close there’s no hetero explanation for it (like the arctic monkeys video- you know the one), and when remus is soloing and sirius is doing rhythm during the instrumental, remus will be like pushing against his guitar with his pelvis and sirius will walk up and do the same and it’s just so gay.

lily will get down in the crowd, crowd surf and run around the stage like she’s on crack and the audience loves it. shell also get up in all of their spaces, she’ll come play behind james, bump hips with sirius, and play back to back with remus - but she goes to remus the most. she also has a tendency to smash her guitars every so often at the end of a show (but don’t worry, it’s only if they’re already damaged from excessive use and being tossed around by roadies and shit).

james, oh sweet james. he always has a big smile and wave for the crowd and will stand up at his kit sometimes - he’ll play into the hot muscle man thing he has going and will skull water and let it drip down his front and he’ll wink at the crowd (but only the band knows he’s doing it in an attempt to impress and fluster regulus who is either side stage or watching live at home) (it works every time). he also goes a little crazy and gets too much inspiration from tommy lee.

and yes, after a big show in vagas, they all woke up with wedding rings on their fingers and they have no idea who married who.

AHHH i have so many wips but i wanna write it so baddddddddd!

[broomsticks]

we love butch lesbians in this house: a very random multifandom reclist. HP, ALOTO, and one GOT HP AU hahaha

⚡️ A swagger, a twinkle, and a fine arse on a broom by Woldy - Rolanda Hooch/Nymphadora Tonks (2k, E)

⚡️ Gouge Away by sportivetricks (tamlane) - Millicent Bulstrode/Victoire Weasley (1.7k, T).

⚡️ Independent Love Song by Writcraft - Millicent Bulstrode/Ginny Weasley (6k, E).

⚡️ Bespoke by kelly_chambliss - Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank & Millicent Bulstrode, Wilhelmina/Minerva, Millicent/Ginny (5k, M).

⚾️ maybe I can be the cute one by paddingtonfan69 - Jo/various women, Jo & Greta (4k, T).

⚾️ all your long sidelong glances by getmean - Lupe García/Jess McCready (1.3k, T).

✨ always been golden by bookcat - Brienne of Tarth/Margaery Tyrell (6k, G).

.

⚡️ HP ⚡️

A swagger, a twinkle, and a fine arse on a broom by Woldy - Rolanda Hooch/Nymphadora Tonks (2k, E). Tonks lets her eyes linger on Hooch's spiky grey hair, her shining leather boots, and thinks If that woman's straight, then I'm a monkey's uncle.

so playful and so fun! such a lovely exploration of various wlw dynamics

Tonks has slept with a lot of women, but none of them were like Rolanda. She's been butch for as long as she can remember, and has known she was gay since before starting Hogwarts, but butch-femme dynamics always made the most sense to her. There was a complementarity to having a pair of high heels beside her boots and her trousers crumpled on the floor alongside a skirt. Besides, Tonks likes her lovers to have enough hair to stroke and tangle her fingers in. (…) Tonks made a speciality out of seducing girls who claimed to be straight. There was an art to it: being a sympathetic ear for their boy troubles, making them laugh, and flirting just a little, gently, before pulling away. She smiled at them with her eyes as well as her lips, carefully didn't stare at their boobs, and always waited for them to make the first move. Five of them did.

This butch-butch dynamic is new and not quite comfortable, throwing Tonks' sense of herself just a little off balance. There's a lot she doesn't know about Rolanda yet, but what she does know is promising: laughter, great sex, and just enough friction to make it exciting.

.

Gouge Away by sportivetricks (tamlane) - Millicent Bulstrode/Victoire Weasley (1.7k, T). The Weasley girl has developed a keen fascination with Millicent's woodworking shop. Millicent can't seem to get rid of her, no matter how hard she tries.

O M F G this pairing! this setting! these dynamics! delightful. thank you @nienna324 for the rec <3<3

.

Independent Love Song by @writcraft - Millicent Bulstrode/Ginny Weasley (6k, E). Millicent Bulstrode is a tailor and Ginny is losing her mind over a woman in a tweed blazer and burgundy brogues.

Millicent is stocky and smartly dressed, wearing highly polished burgundy brogues which immediately catch Ginny's eye because there's something very Gryffindor-ish about them. Her tweed blazer fits her curves perfectly, the shirt underneath open at the collar to reveal the smallest expanse of milky flesh. A blue silk handkerchief pokes jauntily from her blazer pocket and a colourful rainbow pin adorns the lapel. She’s handsome, Ginny’s mind unhelpfully supplies. Dapper, certainly. Where Millicent seemed all brute force and surly temperament at school, she now looks confident and happy.

GOALS

the suit fitting is terrifically erotic — At this rate she’s going to be broke by Christmas as poor ginny tries to resist going back gave me an out-loud laugh — the smut was ridiculously hot, and perfect gorgeous ending <3.

.

Bespoke by kelly_chambliss - Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank & Millicent Bulstrode, Wilhelmina/Minerva, Millicent/Ginny (5k, M) - Millicent Bulstrode gets some new clothes, and Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank gets some.

"Do you feel like a man inside?" asked Millicent. She didn't care if it was too blunt; she needed to know. Grubbly-Plank waved her wand to relight her pipe. "Not really, no," she said, taking a test draw. "Not sure what that even means, to tell you the truth -- to 'feel like a man' or 'feel like a woman.' I just feel like myself, a person who likes men, gets along with 'em, understands 'em, likes to wear their comfy clothes. And I also feel like a person who likes women, gets along with 'em, feels comfortable with 'em. . .and wants to sleep with 'em. But it can unsettle other people, if you're not obviously one sex or the other." Millicent was confused, a state she never enjoyed and that always made her grumpy. "I don't get it," she said. "Why do you wear your hair like that, then, if you don't feel like a man? And what about those robes?"

ahh this fic. iconic. the possibilities! the atmosphere! the layers of love and romance, romantic love and self love. i’m such a sucker for intergenerational queer relationships (read: Your first time, I take it? bahahaa) and this one? yes. perfection.

She tossed her cloak over her shoulder, not caring whether it looked dashing or not. It felt dashing. She felt dashing. She had a beautiful woman on her arm and a beautiful set of men's dress robes on her back.

p.s. the remix fic Well-Suited by blueorangecrush (2k, T) is every bit as good! .

⚾️ ALOTO ⚾️

maybe I can be the cute one by paddingtonfan69 (4k, T). How Jo De Luca got her groove back.

Jo character study. everything about her growing-up backstory is heartwrenching and heartwarming — her friendship with greta! the greta g’s, it’s easier for two kids to be bumbling around the Met sculpture court than just one, all the times they were the only people for each other — and what a wonderful continuation too, her leaving the peaches and after! the letters, i cried.

The eyes on her are stronger here. It’s admiration, it’s attraction, it’s lust, all without the usual mask in place. Jo soaks in it. She barely even minds that her best friend couldn’t care less to check in on her, not when a stunning woman has decided Jo is the most desirable thing in here. “I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,” Flo says to her while they are dancing. Jo is, for once in her life, speechless. This random girl in the middle of fucking nowhere, Illinois says one sentence and it feels like Jo has won a game she’s being losing her whole fucking life. It’s been Jo against the world for years and years and finally, finally, Jo is scoring points. The world, of course, has a few extra tricks up its sleeve.

oh my heart.

.

all your long sidelong glances by getmean - Lupe García/Jess McCready (1.3k, T).

obviouslyyyyyy my favorite jesslupe is a @billsfangearring rec

Jess kisses her teeth, but doesn’t say anything. Just eases the butt of her smoke between her teeth, and winks. Sweat shining in the hollow of her throat, right there where she’s unbuttoned her uniform low enough that Lupe can see the wifebeater she wears underneath. Butch to her fucking core, even in a skirt. Lupe knows she doesn’t wear underwear. Knows she sometimes fits a folded pair of socks between her thighs when they go out looking for girls. Sometimes she thinks about snaking her hand around Jess’ waist and gripping it, just to feel the cotton squeeze between her fingers. But she’s not Jess’ type. It’s all just fun and games, made for this kind of thick afternoon languor.

how the fuck can T-rated just looking be so goshdarned hot

From across the diamond, she can hear the unmistakable sound of someone playing catch. The rhythmic and comforting thump of baseball meeting glove. Soundtrack of their lives.

and that last paragraph!! tantalizing. fascinating. everything.

.

and the weird lil HP AU!GOT

always been golden by bookcat - Brienne of Tarth/Margaery Tyrell (6k, G). Brienne is a professional Quidditch player. Margaery wants her… as the face of TyrellCo's new mass-market energy potion.

someday i will add to this rec list with all the quidditch girls fic but just have this zaniness for now. the worldbuilding! the blend of references from both canons was perfect.

[schrijverr]

A Behind the Scenes of: Robin and Rose's Wedding

With Robin and her wife Rose as special guest, Jonathan gives insight into their illegal wedding that happened in '94.

On AO3.

Ships: Robin x ofc (background: jargancy, steddie, byler, elumax, jopper)

Warnings: homophobia mention

~~~~~~~~

“I can’t believe Jonathan Byers is a misogynist,” Robin says. They’re still setting up and both her, Jonathan and Rose are shuffling into frame and sitting down.

“Will you let that go, I never said that,” Jonathan complains as he adjusts the mic on his shirt.

“You let Steve and Eddie talk about their wedding and didn’t ask me,” Robin counters, pouting heavily. “I think that’s very misogynistic of you.”

“I immediately agreed when you asked,” Jonathan exclaims.

“But I had to ask,” Robin counters.

“I’m not a mind reader!” Jonathan says exasperated.

“Be nice to Jon, dear,” Rose speaks up, finally interrupting the argument, though she looks more amused than actually chastising.

“Alright, alright, at least my wedding photographer didn’t have a crush on my wife, so that’s a win,” Robin pretends to give in only to tease Jonathan again.

“Oh my god, did Steve tell you that?” Jonathan groans.

“Of course dingus told me that,” Robin informs him cheerily. “Now let’s start talking about our wedding.”

“Thank fuck,” Jonathan sighs. “Just know I’m keeping that in to show what I put up with when you guys are over. I don’t know when these turned into roast Jonathan videos. Nancy and Jane were lovely guests, you know.”

“I feel like it adds character, shows the wide extend of personalities we have,” Robin grins. “Now dance monkey, dance.”

Jonathan shakes his head at her. Despite it all, he doesn’t actually look annoyed. Then he straightens up and starts the video: “Hi, I’m Jonathan Byers, the main photographer and editor of A Collection of Queer Photography. Today, I’m here with Robin and Rose to talk about their illegal wedding in ‘94.”

“Hi, I’m Robin,” Robin introduces herself. Her bracelets clink together as she waves, there are laugh lines around her eyes and mouth and her hair is dyed a bright green. She’s wearing a funky patterned button up to go with it.

“And I’m Rose,” Rose adds, also waving. She’s wearing a deep green dress and a nice necklace and earrings. Her red hair cascades down her shoulders and she smiles with red painted lips.

“As with the other wedding, there was a structure to the layout,” Jonathan explains. “First you have the proposal, then the ceremony, the wedding photo shoot, the party itself, the morning after and then you two leaving for your honeymoon. That’s quite a lot, so I don’t know if we’re talking about the last two. We’ll see where it goes.”

“Fair enough,” Rose says as Robin snatches up the book and excitedly flips to the right page.

“Okay,” Robin starts once she found it. “First one is Accepted Proposal, ahh, so exciting.”

Accepted Proposal is taken at Argyle’s restaurant, since it had been empty at the time, save for the Boston crew, as well as a known queer safe space. In it is Robin on one knee in front of Rose, in her hand she has a little box popped open to show the ring in it. Rose has her hands clapped over her mouth in shock, tears in her eyes. Robin just grins shyly at her.

“I loved your proposal,” Rose smiles softly. “I didn’t see it coming at all and it was just perfect. You always manage to find a way to sweep me off my feet and make my dreams come true.”

“Oh my god, I am so gay. Steve 100% didn’t prepare me for this,” Robin breathes, before backtracking. “Not that I want to ruin this moment by mentioning Steve, I just meant that that is so sweet and beautiful and I love you and it’s all overwhelming.”

“Ahw, baby, come here,” Rose coos, pulling Robin into her chest and holding her tightly in her arms as Robin melts into her hold. Rose kisses her forehead and says: “I love you too.”

“We’re going to be like this the whole time aren’t we?” Robin speaks up, a little muffled from where she is burying her head in Rose’s chest.

“Probably,” Rose agrees.

“God grant me mercy,” Jonathan sighs.

Robin straightens up to point out: “You’re an atheist.”

“Yeah, but a man can wish,” Jonathan jokes, before he moves back to their task at hand: “This was taken at Argyle’s diner after closing. The diner was a queer gathering place to those that knew, but we also got a lot of drunken students.”

“Yeah, I wanted to ask it somewhere private and safe that wasn’t like our living room,” Robin says. “And there isn’t a better place to go. Our first date was there too.”

“It was perfect,” Rose tells her.

“I’m glad,” Robin smiles.

They hold eye contact for a second, while Jonathan introduces the next one: “Alright, on the same page we also have Wedding Preparations, which is taken by Steve. Wanna tell us what’s going on here?”

The photo in question is of Eddie, Robin and Rose surrounded by fake flowers at their kitchen table. They seem to be gluing them together into one big flowery monstrosity, whose purpose isn’t clear. The flowers are a mix or white, light pink and a dark red.

“We were making the flower decoration piece for our wedding and wedding photo shoot,” Robin says. “We might not have had a big church wedding or some shit, but we were going to have a pretty wedding.”

“It was part of my scrapbook and Robin was determined to make one, since we couldn’t do most other stuff. It was very sweet,” Rose answers.

“Well, what else was I going to do?” Robin asks. “You wanted a nice wedding, I was going to try my damnedest to make it so.”

“And I’m very lucky to have that,” Rose tells her.

Jonathan gives the two a fond smile, before flipping the page. “Okay, page 182 and 183 is the ceremony, starting with Here Comes One of the Brides, which is a reference to the song here comes the bride, but queered, because that’s what we’re all about.”

Here Comes One of the Brides is taken in the apartment Robin and Rose shared. Most of their furniture has been moved to Eddie and Steve’s and the living room has been turned into a wedding location. A few chairs are set in rows facing the place where the flower piece they’ve made functions as decorative piece.

It had been a small wedding, but all the chair are filled. At the front is Robin in a three piece pinstriped suit with bow tie, her buzzed hair freshly shaved. She is biting her lip and crying a bit, though doing a great job of pretending she isn’t.

Behind Robin is Steve, who is the best man, while Rose’s sister is maid of honor, waiting opposite to Robin as Rose walks the aisle, though she isn’t in the image. The wedding was officiated by Argyle, who is wearing a beautiful tiered skirt and blouse, and is grinning happily.

“Ahww, our little makeshift wedding venue,” Robin says. “We truly got married in our living room.”

“I think it was very romantic anyway,” Rose adds. “It was like we were able to visit that memory every day.”

“That’s such a sweet way to look at it,” Robins tells her, making gooey eyes as Rose blushes and thanks her.

“It was a nice wedding,” Jonathan says. “I think your guys properly transformed the space and made it feel fancy.”

“Thank you, Jon,” Rose says. “And thank you for taking all the photos too. I love this photo of Robin, she is so handsome, I love her in a suit.”

“Why thank you, darling,” Robin drawls jokingly, though she’s blushing too.

“No problem, did it with love,” Jonathan assures them. “And it was also personal gain, honestly. It added to my personal portfolio. I’m mostly glad that you agreed to let me use them for this, because your wedding has so many good queering of heteronormative moments.”

Robin laughs at that. “Yeah, it’s almost as if we’re two dykes tying the knot.”

“Yeah, almost,” Jonathan agrees with humor in his eyes.

“Still, thank you,” Rose smiles.

“Totally thank you, like without you I wouldn’t have this very beautiful photo of my wife,” Robin says, pointing at the page.

On screen a photo of Rose appears. She is wearing a gorgeous white wedding gown. It is a princess dress with all the ruffles and frills that fan out around her like a flower. She doesn’t have any sleeves, but she is haloed by her veil, which turns into a train. In her hand she has a bouquet of roses.

She is smiling, practically glowing as she walks down the aisle next to her father, who is giving her away with foggy eyes. She has been one of the lucky ones with accepting parents. Off to the side, her mother can be seen, crying her eyes out. Rose however is repressing the water works, looking like a picture perfect bride.

“For the record she’s pointing at Rose Given Away,” Jonathan informs the camera, before replying: “I love this photo. It such a typical bridal photo, but there is something about it that I can’t describe, but that is just so gay.”

“I think queer femininity is different than traditional femininity,” Rose says thoughtfully after a second. “A lot of traditional femininity is tied to attracting a man, which isn’t really a goal in queer femininity, so there are certain things that just aren’t present. I don’t know if what I’m saying makes sense.”

“It totally makes sense, she’s just being humble, but she’s actually super smart and reads a lot and is into gender theory and shit,” Robin interrupts, hanging off Rose as she does.

“Thank you, dear,” Rose tells her.

“Always, darling,” Robin replies.

“That is super interesting, I like that,” Jonathan agrees with Robin. “That is totally the vibe.”

“Not to mention she is super stunning and beautiful and looking like a fucking princess,” Robin adds. “Like, I’m not going to get graphic here.” “Please, don’t.” “But I regret not doing a garter thing, but it might be better, because I would not have come back out from under there.”

“Oh my god, Robin!” Rose squeal laughs.

“That’s you not getting graphic?” Jonathan chokes, stuck between appalled and dying of laughter.

There are also chuckles coming from behind the camera, before Argyle asks: “Can we please keep that in?”

Robin and Rose exchange a look, before Rose says: “Sure, it’s not me exposing myself.”

“I don’t expose myself, I speak truth,” Robin declares.

“Of course, dear,” Rose says, patting her arm, before she turns to Jonathan: “So, what’s next?”

Jonathan looks back down to the book, which had kind of been forgotten in the chaos. “The next one is First Kiss as a Married Couple and this whole page is about you two being officiated as married.”

The photo that appears is of Robin and Rose’s first kiss at the altar, unofficially wedded. Rose is pulling Robin in by the lapels of her jacket and Robin is enthusiastically clinging back, half pulling Rose’s veil off.

“I love the enthusiasm in this photo,” Jonathan says. “I talked about this with Eddie and Steve, but a lot of straight couple getting married don’t even like each other, which makes it more insane that love like this wasn’t legal. It’s just weird. But I’ll get off my nonsense and just say I love the enthusiasm.”

“I must agree that I also love the enthusiasm,” Robin nods, before she looks at Rose and bats her eyes: “I love it when you pull me into a kiss by my lapels. Very hot.”

“God, you are ridiculous,” Rose giggles. “But you’re so handsome in your suit, I feel like I can’t be blamed. Plus, you ripped off my veil and nearly tripped us both over, it was just practical to hold you put so we wouldn’t fall.”

“You know me so well, woman after my own heart,” Robin fake swoons.

“So are you, handsome,” Rose replies, booping her nose. Then she turns to Jonathan and says: “I think to add to your point, another aspect is that a lot of straight culture is being respectable and especially those that like get married in a church. PDA is kind of demonized and seen as sinful, they’re not kissing like this.”

“Huh, yeah, never thought about that, but that’s probably because the only straight wedding I attended was between mom and dad,” Jonathan says. “And like Steve and Robin if you want to count that. I refuse to count the others, they were queer.”

“And you are so correct for that, bestie,” Robin tells him.

“Oh my god, you are no longer allowed to hang out with the teens when you come visit me at work,” Rose exclaims. “They’re corrupting you.”

“Slay,” Robin attempts to deadpan, but a grin is breaking through.

“I hate you,” Rose giggles.

“Love you too,” Robin replies, letting the grin break through on her face.

The two of them giggle as Jonathan moves on: “Then the next photo is Unofficially Officiated, which is of the ceremony itself.”

It is of Argyle when officiating. He is speaking passionately, clearly visible between the smiling Robin and Rose. The affection from the photographer clearly shines through in the image.

“You are so gay for Argyle it’s hilarious,” Robin comments. “Like this our lesbian wedding and you manage to focus wholly on Argyle and it still be gay, because you use your camera to create fucking heart eyes at him.”

“I can’t help that he’s pretty,” Jonathan defends himself, blushing deeply.

“Ahw, you are pretty too, buttercup,” Argyle comments from behind the camera.

“You did look amazing,” Robin agrees. “And I love your officiating speech. It was very out there, I loved the energy.”

“I tried,” Argyle says.

“Alright, then the last one on the page is Celebrating, which I love. It’s tells such a story,” Jonathan moves on.

Celebrating is of Robin, now turned to Steve with her back to Rose. She is screaming with wide eyes as if she can’t believe that just happened and needs Steve to confirm. Steve is holding her hands, also screaming. Both are jumping with joy. In the background is Rose, rolling her eyes fondly at the duo.

Robin and Rose lean over to see the photo. Rose starts laughing the moment she sees, while Robin flushes red. She complains: “Rose always bullies me for this.”

“No, I don’t,” Rose argues.

“Yes, you do,” Robin pouts. “Remember like last week when you kissed me and asked if I needed to go find Steve to yell at him? We’ve been married for 23 years, this joke can die.”

“But it’s so funny,” Rose says. “It was cute, I swear. You were so excited about it. And I know how you and Steve are, I knew that when I said yes.”

“Alright, if you say so,” Robin gives in.

“I do say so,” Rose promises, punctuating her point by kissing Robin on the cheek.

“You kind of said all that needed to be said about this one,” Jonathan adds. “I do like to point out Rose here. She looks so fond, which I love as a little detail.”

“See, Jon agrees that it’s fond,” Rose says.

“Still a stupid joke,” Robin mumbles, but she doesn’t look too disgruntled.

Jonathan flips the page and snorts when he sees what’s on it. He says: “Okay, so these two pages are the photo shoot we did for your wedding and I love all of them, but I think we should just explain what we were doing and pick two to talk about so it doesn’t get completely out of hand.”

“Alright, I want to talk about my children,” Rose immediately agrees.

“I wanna talk about the Rob and Rose one,” Robin says.

“Okay, so we got two picked,” Jonathan says. “Now the concept for this was a stereotypical wedding photo shoot, but with an edge of ridicule. We took it seriously, but also made it absurd. I think you came up with it, Robin?”

“Well, it was collaborative,” Robin replies.

“No, it wasn’t. You made fun of me and then we did it anyway,” Rose corrects.

“You and I remember this very differently,” Robin says. “Why do you think that?”

“We went through my old wedding scrap book I made when I was fifteen and there were photos like this one in it and you laughed for like twenty whole seconds before demanding we did this. How else was I supposed to interpret that?” Rose asks.

Robin is quiet for a minute, then says: “Okay when you say it like that, I get why you think that, but I was never laughing at you, just the concept of it.”

“It was in my wedding scrap book,” Rose points out.

“That you made when you were fifteen!” Robin exclaims. “Everyone is stupid at fifteen.”

“Yeah, what were you doing at fifteen then, huh?” Rose shoots back.

“I was being jealous of Steve and the attention he got while being mad at him because he left crumbs everywhere,” Robin answers honestly.

“I thought you were seventeen when you two met,” Jonathan pipes up.

“Long story, Jonathan,” Robin waves him away. “The point is, it wasn’t meant as making fun of you, my love, so let’s just look at them and agree about that.”

“Of course, dear,” Rose gives in easily. She never was truly upset about it, but you don’t spend over twenty years around the party without starting silly arguments for the sake of arguing.

“So, first up Newlyweds Rob & Rose,” Jonathan starts out.

On screen the photo that appears is of Robin with Rose standing in front of her. They look to be posing for a family portrait in the late 1800s with serious faces. Robin has her hand on Rose’s shoulder, taller than her, but only because of the step stool that is clearly in frame.

“Okay, so this was meant to be like a typical 19th century family portrait,” Robin says. “And I think it’s so funny that you can just see the step stool right there. Because Rose is a lovely, beautiful, tall queen and I’m the butch one of us two, so to fully parody it, I had to be taller.”

“It’s hysterical,” Rose agrees. “But I was so terrified of you being up on that thing. I love you very much, handsome, but god, your coordination.”

Robin cackles loudly at that, falling into Rose’s side. She crows: “Oh my god, that is amazing, Steve told me the same exact thing when I mentioned talking about these to him. Remember when I almost face planted?”

“I do,” Rose tells her, sounding a little pained at the memory, but amused by Robin’s delight.

“It was a terrifying shoot for all the wrong reasons,” Jonathan agrees, snorting softly. “I also really like the title. Nance came up with this one, she’s said you guys would appreciate the gender fuckery of it.”

“We do,” Robin says immediately.

“Yeah, we are very much a butch4femme couple,” Rose nods. “This felt very accurate of us, while also fitting with the theme. I loved all the titles honestly.”

“The titles were very good and as Rose said, I am very butch. I border on this woman-not-woman edge of lesbianism and that makes me more comfortable with being addressed in a more masculine way, like going by Rob most of the time,” Robin says. “And honestly, I feel really blessed with how I’m represented in this book. Like I love all the other girls in there, but god what I wouldn’t have given to see a butch dyke when I was a teen, you know.”

Jonathan looks very touched by the comment and he replies: “I’m very honored you think that I presently you right, that means a lot.”

“Come here, you,” Robin exclaims, chocking up a little as she pulls Jonathan into a hug. More muffled because of it, she says: “Fuck, I told Steve I wasn’t gonna get mushy and here I am. He’s gonna laugh at me.”

She lets go and both of them wipe their eyes as they pretend not to. Rose puts a comforting hand on Robin’s back.

To move on from the moment, Jonathan says: “Then the other one we wanted to talk about is Wedding Picture with the Children.”

The photo is of Robin and Rose, sitting on the ground together. Rose’s dress fans around her as Robin sits in a mermaid pose next to her. It had been a lot of work to get their huge collection of garden gnomes they usually keep in a display near their front door positioned around them, forming a small army. Robin and Rose are both smiling proudly and happily, albeit a little cheeky too.

“Okay, so a lot of people have asked about the gnomes,” Jonathan informs them. “Why all the gnomes?”

Robin looks to Rose and gestures as if to say: Go ahead.

“Well, I already collected gnomes when we met. I started collecting them when I was nineteen, I think,” Rose answers. “My grandma moved to a care home and she had two in her garden that my mom wanted to throw out, so I stole them. They were so ugly, I loved them. From then on it became kind of a thing for me. I think I drunkly took that one from a garden once.”

She points at one, which gets circled in the photo on screen. The gnome in question has overalls and is holding a little shovel.

“They’ve always kind of hung around my dorms and apartments. A lot of dates thought they were creepy, but that night I met Robin we ended up on the topic. When I told her about it she said ‘gnome way’ and I gave her my number right then and there,” Rose tells Jonathan. “She was the one that demanded we put them in a display case by the door when we moved in together.”

Robin is smiling fondly and looking quite pleased with herself as Rose recounts the story. “Best pun I ever made,” she says. “11 out of 10, would do again.”

“No matter how many times I hear that, it just keeps being iconic,” Jonathan laughs.

“Personally, I consider myself not the stepdad, but the dad that stepped up for these gnomes,” Robin says. “I was channeling my inner dingus for this photo in particular. Don’t I look exactly like him on his wedding with the kids in the party.”

Jonathan and Rose both laugh, then Jonathan glances at the photo again, before gasping: “Oh my god, I can totally see it now.”

“Wait, gimme,” Rose demands as Jonathan wordlessly hands her the book. She looks at it closely, before exclaiming: “Oh my god, you totally do.”

“Of course I did, I know that man inside and out,” Robin says, almost affronted at the idea she couldn’t imitate Steve flawlessly.

“God, you’re ridiculous, I love you so much,” Rose tells her, handing the book back to Jonathan.

Robin’s face lights up in a big smile as she replies: “I love you too. Very much.”

As they gaze into each other’s eyes, Jonathan flips the page. He says: “Page 186 and 187 was the first and second dance. I put them as four in a line to tell kind of a story from left to right, starting with Asking for a Dance.”

The photo is of Robin, bowing as she kisses Rose’s hand. Rose is grinning widely, half hiding behind her other hand.

“Look at you, handsome. Always such a gentleman, made me feel like a princess,” Rose gushes.

“You are a princess,” Robin assures her, making Rose blush.

“Stahp,” she giggles.

Jonathan adds: “It is a lovely photo of you two. Very much a mix of that queering of the heteronormative and queer gender expression.”

“I live to queer it all,” Robin cheers, grinning widely as Rose high fives her.

At that, Jonathan shakes his head, before moving on: “Next to it is First Dance, title kind of speaks for itself here.”

In the photo Robin and Rose are very close together and swaying. Robin’s coordination prevents complicated choreography, however, she valiantly lead Rose that day and they danced for a big part of the night.

“The way I struggled with even this,” Robin groans in embarrassment. “Ask anyone and they’ll tell you I am the most uncoordinated person alive. The fact that we didn’t fall a hundred times is a combination of a miracle and your strong arms steadying us. Even with Steve coaching me for weeks late at night, I barely managed.”

“I think it’s very sweet that you tried so hard and I had a great time dancing with you,” Rose tells her gently.

“Still, I think I did better the second time around,” Robin says.

“Maybe, but I think this first one is still my favorite,” Rose replies.

“Ahw, stop, you’re gonna make me cry,” Robin exclaims, again burying herself in Rose’s chest as she hugs the other closely.

“Oh, I’m sorry, baby,” Rose immediate apologizes, petting Robin’s hair.

“Don’t say sorry for being perfect and lovely,” Robin says, voice muffled.

“Ahww, baby,” Rose coos, hugging her tightly, which makes the muscles in her arms bulge. After a second she lets go again and asks Jonathan: “What’s the next one?”

“Next one is Father-Daughter Dance with you and your dad,” Jonathan says.

The photo that appears is of Rose dancing with her father. She looks much like him, both of them with red hair and big frames. They’re both smiling, pride washing off the image.

“Your dad is so nice,” Robin says. “You look so much like him, it’s insane.”

“My dad is the best,” Rose agree easily. “Both my parents are. I am so lucky to have them and they make it easy to forget that not every parent is like that, but once you start hanging out with other queer people, you start to realize how common it is for parents to not be accepting. It’s heartbreaking sometimes.”

“I think it’s lovely that we got to have your family in here to show that it can be different, just like my mom and dad,” Jonathan says. “It’s easy to get lost in the gloom and doom, but it is getting better. Not perfect, but better. And it can be really hopeful to see.”

“Yeah, you should be fucking proud about it and loud, baby,” Robin adds. “Your parents are the fucking best and it truly shows that all the other shitheads aren’t products of their time, because there are people who knew better, even back then. And, honestly, I kind of love this little piece of tradition we had in our wedding. I love that we got to have that.”

“Ahw, you’re gonna make me cry,” Rose replies, dabbing her eyes as she hugs Robin and kisses her cheek.

Jonathan gives them their moment, before he says: “We wanted to show both sides of how coming out to parents can turn out and the effects of it. Despite the tragedy, I do love The Second Dance of you and Steve.”

Second Dance is Robin and Steve dancing in their suits. Both of them are crying, tears streaming down their faces as they cling more than dance.

Robin looks over to see and tears kind of spring up as she does. Softly Jonathan asks: “You still okay, Robs?”

“Ye- yeah, yeah,” she assures him swallowing heavily. “Just- kind of forgot that was in here. Hit me out of nowhere.” She wipes her eyes.

“Want to tell it yourself or us to do it?” Rose asks kindly, rubbing the back of Robin’s neck with her thumb in a soothing manner.

“I can do, thank you,” Robin says.

“Alright, take your time,” Rose smiles as Jonathan nods.

“Okay, so,” Robin sniffs. “This was my second dance with my favorite dingus. My dad wasn’t there to dance with me, so Steve did it. I- I, uh, also was his second dance at his wedding, because he really wanted one and I did too, honestly.”

She takes a deep breath: “We have this big family, but Steve is the closest to blood I have. He is kind of my whole world. Like, I don’t know what I would do without him honestly. He’s been there for me through everything. He’s the first ever person I came out too and he was my hype-man through everything. When I started dating, he was always my backup, gave me eating out tips and shit.”

Despite it being an emotional moment, Rose lets out a soft snort at that and both Jonathan and Robin crack a grin, the tension slightly broken.

“I’ve seen online people calling us weird for being so close and saying Steve has feelings for me, which is ridiculous,” Robin says. “We’re just way too comfortable with each other, because we care and we need each other to live. If I have to make sure the weird spot on his dick isn’t cancer so he grows old with me, I totally will. Fuck anyone who thinks otherwise.”

“Anyway,” she turns back to the photo. “Neither of us had our parents in our lives anymore and as much as I appreciate Jim or Wayne, it just wouldn’t have been the same. So me and Steve danced and we both cried, because in that moment it just hits you, you know. You just realize that the other is the person you have. That it’s not just going to be over and you can’t go back home and tell your mom that despite all her worries you did get married, that I found someone who loved me even without all those ladylike manners she failed to instill on me. That I was okay.”

Robin now starts crying. She isn’t sobbing, just silent tears streaming down her face as her voice gets tighter and more strained.

“It never truly becomes real that you’re not welcome back. That their love was conditional. That never sinks in after it happens. And it hit me that in that moment it was real and Steve was there to catch me. He is always there to catch me. That’s why I love him so much,” Robin says.

She wipes her eyes again and clears her throat: “I’ll stop being sad now. Just love that man so much, he’s my soulmate.”

“I’m glad you have Steve,” Rose tells her. “He is really cool. He’s one of my best friends too honestly. I remember you crying and wanting to comfort you and Steve just told me that it was okay, that he had you and I should finish the dance with my dad and it was so easy to trust him with you. And sure enough by the time you two were done dancing you were laughing and smiling again. I honestly thought he was a wizard.”

“He never told me that,” Robin says.

“Must have not come up,” Rose shrugs.

“I love him,” Robin sighs happily.

“Me too,” Rose agrees.

“He is pretty great,” Jonathan adds, more to say something, because he feels awkward.

“But not as great as his husband, am I right, Jonny-boy?” Robin jeers, breaking the tension as Jonathan groans and everyone else cracks up again.

“I hate all of you,” Jonathan informs them, before pointedly flipping the page and ignoring their giggles as he reads: “Twirling Trio, is what we’re looking at right now.”

On screen a photo of Lucas twirling both El and Max on the dance floor, the three of them giggling appears. It had been a good day for Max, so her crutches are leaning against the wall in the back, just in case.

“It’s a good day for me when I get to photograph polyam people,” Jonathan says. “They’re a great throuple and I love how close Lucas and Jane are as friends too. That’s really important. Now, this page is early in the wedding and then 189 is later in the wedding. Next one is Wedding Cake and Stolen Kisses, which I think is a hilarious photo.”

The photo is of Steve sitting in a chair with Robin in his lap. The two are sharing a plate of wedding cake, but the photograph is taken when Steve is momentarily distracted by Eddie. Eddie is leaning over the back of the chair, stealing a kiss from Steve as well as a bit of cake, though that might be a fail, since Robin is on her way to stab his hand with her fork.

“I stabbed him so hard, he bled,” Robin reminisces fondly. “I think he still has a scar on his hands.”

“You were very protective over that cake,” Rose comments.

“Of course I was, it took us two days of cake tasting to pick one and it was very expensive,” Robin says, like that is a normal thing to say.

“You and Steve are sharing the plate,” Jonathan points out.

“That’s different,” Robin shrugs.

Jonathan shakes his head at her, then moves on: “I love the storytelling that is happening in it. I love capturing little moments where in people shine through, like in this other one on this page of Mike and Will. The Whipped Cream one.”

Whipped Cream is of Mike and Will both in neat suits. Will is eating some cake, but has some whipped cream on his upper lip. Mike is smiling softly at him, shaking his head fondly as he wipes away the whipped cream with his thumb. Will is staring dumbly, looking very love stricken.

“It was truly luck that I managed to catch that one and I’m so pleased. It’s such a cliché and I love that,” Jonathan says. “And then the next one – sorry, I’m kind of speeding through these, but otherwise it’s too long.”

“Go ahead, baby boy,” Argyle encourages him from behind the camera as Robin and Rose both nod and gesture to go ahead.

“Feel free to interject,” Jonathan says anyway. “So, the next one is Talks of Love.”

The photo that appears is of Argyle, Nancy, Robin and Rose. Argyle is smiling widely, having Nancy under one arm and Rose under the other. Robin is holding Rose’s hand and resting her face happily against her arm.

“This is the transition photo to later in the night when people started drinking,” Jonathan explains. “Argyle had taken his officiant role a little seriously and he was speeching. It was really cute and romantic.”

“He was waxing poetry about you and Nance, of course you think that’s cute,” Robin says.

“Hey, I was talking about the beauty of love and how we’re all connected, man,” Argyle speaks up from behind the camera to defend himself.

“You still remember what you were talking about?” Rose asks, sounding surprised.

“Nah, he’s just has been repeating the same speech about love since ‘86, you just haven’t heard it as much because we had less time to get stoned together since we met,” Robin says.

“And it’s amazing every time,” Jonathan defends Argyle.

“Ahw, thank you, baby boy,” Argyle says, smile obvious in his voice.

“Whipped,” Robin hollers.

“I have let you talk about your wife and your wedding for hours now, don’t you fucking dare do this to me, Robin. Let me live in peace and let’s just go talk about the conga line,” Jonathan says, pointing accusingly at Robin to punctuate his sentence.

“Let me live in peace and let’s just go talk about the conga line,” Robin repeats, dying of laughter as she does.

“What did you name that one?” Rose asks, leaning over to see if she can read it, but her view is getting obscured by Robin, who is still laughing.

“Conga Line of 1994,” Jonathan answers, a little embarrassed about it.

As the title suggests the photo is of Argyle, Dustin, Eddie, El, Lucas, Joyce Robin, Rose and Steve forming a conga line. It is clear that some, if not most, of them have had a little too much to drink at this point.

“Joyce totally started that conga line,” Robin recalls, mirth in her eyes. “She said I do not have to drive or be responsible and I respect that about her.”

“You were the second person in the conga line, love,” Rose reminds her.

“Yeah, because I have taste, thank you,” Robin sniff snootily.

“It was pretty great, I loved it. I couldn’t not photograph it. It’s just delightful and shows the vibes the wedding got when it went on for a little,” Jonathan agrees. “Which is even more visible in the other two, starting with Kiss the Bride.”

Kiss the Bride is of Robin, her bow tie undone along with the top buttons. She is hanging of a smug Rose and is covered in lipstick kisses, looking quite pleased with herself as she grins into the camera. Rose’s lipstick is smudged.

“I have this one framed on my desk,” Robin says. “I love that photo.”

“Really?” Rose asks, blushing. “Don’t you share your office space with your coworkers?”

“Yeah,” Robin answers as if that means nothing to her. “If they want to make a comment about it, they are just getting a ramble about you and how great my wife is. Their choice.”

“God, you’re a doofus,” Rose tells her affectionately, before coyly adding: “I love how you look in my lipstick.”

“Same,” Robin sighs dreamily.

“Not to interrupt you two being gay for each other, but-” Jonathan starts out. He gets interrupted by Robin hollering: “Too late.”

“I knew that,” Jonathan sighs fondly, nudging her with his elbow. “I just wanted to add how this one along with Off to the Wedding Bed is some hilarious visual storytelling. Do you remember yelling that everyone had to leave, because you were going to fuck your brand new wife?”

“Yes, I did, Jonathan. It’s almost like I have two of the most annoying roommates, who like to remind me of that humiliating moment every time they have an opportunity,” Robin deadpans, exaggerating her pout.

The photo they’re referencing has appeared on screen and is of Rose’s back. She has lost her veil and train and currently has Robin slung over her shoulder, obviously carrying her off. Robin is cackling as she looks into the camera. Eddie is whistling in the foreground and Steve is clapping as he grins, next to them is Nancy, who is shaking her head fondly.

“You jumped in my arms right after,” Rose reminisces with a sappy smile. “You’re so cute.”

“It was mortifying,” Robin says. “I had to face everyone of them the next day covered in hickeys. They all knew.”

“I think they all already kind of guessed,” Rose informs her.

“We totally did, brocacho,” Argyle agrees.

Robin buries her head in her hands, before straightening out again. She’s still flushed but determined: “No, I refuse to be embarrassed. I love my wife and I am horny for her, always have been. You all can go suck my dick!”

“Love the energy, handsome,” Rose laughs.

“Same energy you had that night,” Jonathan adds, which earns him a shove from Robin, though she’s laughing too.

Jonathan bounces right back and adds: “I do think that Eddie, Steve and Nancy really add to the photo. I know we’re joking about it, but this book celebrates queer sex too, despite how it is often deemed perverted and wrong. I love how we made something lovely out of it.”

“Same, honestly. I felt like such a predator for so long, because I was attracted to girls,” Robin agrees. “And it’s just as beautiful as other sex. Just as nasty too, but we won’t talk about that right now. Shout out to all the nudes you took that didn’t make it in. We could have had a whole page of Argyle nudes or Nancy nudes.”

“Shut up,” Jonathan squeals, pushing her over this time as she cackles.

Robin pops right back up, like nothing has happened, then demands: “Let’s talk about the morning after photos.”

“Do we have time for that?” Jonathan asks Argyle.

“It’s already pretty long, baby boy,” Argyle answers.

“Maybe we should just leave it here,” Jonathan offers apologetically.

“But I wanna talk about those photos,” Robin pouts. “Can’t we part two it? Come on. I need something to rub in Steve’s face.”

“You should have lead with that,” Jonathan jokes, before finishing up: “That was a behind the scenes of the wedding of Robin and Rose, thank you both for being here.”

“Thanks for having us,” Rose replies politely.

“Yes, thank you for giving into my demands,” Robin teases.

“We’re going to do a hopefully shorter part two, so until then I guess?” Jonathan says. “Bye.”

“Bye!” Robin waves excitedly

“Goodbye,” Rose smiles.

~~

A/N:

I kind of didn’t say a lot about certain pictures, because I didn’t want it to get too long and I let chaos reign and kind of flesh out this relationship more :D

[starsfic]

Are there any theories as to purple demon girl’s identity cuz apparently she can block an attack from MK and Mei

I've mainly heard that she's possibly a relative of Yin and Jin from @winterpower98. Do I have my own thoughts related to my thoughts about what is required to defeat the big bad? Yes.

“You two.”

Yin and Jin looked up in time to see the monkey in the red cheongsam plop down across from them, her near hair bun barely moving. They had honestly expected to be left alone in this corner of the pub as they ate dinner. Demons had avoided them since they had lost their kingdom, except when they needed something stolen or something. Yin elbowed Jin and the orange demon straightened. This was a client, possibly, so they needed to look good. At least for something to soothe the balm of the calabash failure. “Hey there…” he said, leaning on the table. “You need something, missy?”

The monkey eyed them both. It was uncommon to see a demon monkey around, but neither would put up a fuss about a client. “Yeah,” she finally said. “I wanna know what kind of research you put into the Monkie Kid before you put him in that calabash.”

The words were so cold and blunt that Jin could only blink. “Uh…what?”

The monkey sighed, rubbing her temples. “I mean, seriously. You only followed him for an hour and based the entire program on that!”

“Hey!” Yin poked his head up. “We followed him for more than an hour!”

“No, no, you’re right. You were going into hour two and got distracted by boba.”

“How did you know-?”

“I mean, seriously.” The monkey demon pulled out a cell phone and tapped on something. She turned it so they could see the screen. “You didn’t even check his social media!” Front and center was a picture from last June, with the Monkie Kid waving a trans flag while wearing a gay pride shirt. The dragon girl was happily beaming as she waved a lesbian pride flag with a demiaro flag. “If you did, I’m not sure how you got a romantic relationship from this.”

“Uhh…” Jin glanced back at Yin. His twin gave an awkward little shrug. Neither of them had thought to check social media, it seemed. “I mean, you kinda have a point- Wait!” He glared her down. “What do you want?! Who do you think you are, yelling at us-”

A bag hit the table. Yin grabbed it and opened it, revealing several fat stacks of yuans.

“I’m the person who’s hiring you to check out Pigsy’s Noodles.” A booklet was pushed forward, marked with a panda logo. Jin grabbed it and flipped through. “The person who came up with the plan to make sure this man is trustworthy to be around my brother now that I know where he is.” Before either one of them could ask about the brother part, she ran her hands over her face. A purple-horned demon glared them down. “The person who will be keeping an eye on you to make sure things go smoothly. Clear?”

Yin and Jin exchanged glances.

Okay, this woman was crazy. That much was clear. But she was paying a lot of money and offering a business. And, besides, they could always find a way to turn this plan for their own gain…

They grinned.

“Deal.”

[garset-grocery]

This is gonna be a long one.

When astronauts go out on a spacewalk, they report a feeling of extreme euphoria. Seeing the Earth from such a vantage point, the beauty and awe of it is so overpowering that it can be dangerous. Astronauts have to train to harden their hearts to it, just to get any work done. Isn’t that kind of funny in a way? That our little monkey brains are overwhelmed by seeing the beauty of our home? By witnessing firsthand the majesty and scale of space, and our planet’s place in it?

Not to sound like a tree-hugging hippie or anything (although I vibe with those guys) but I think we could all use an experience like that every once in a while. Go watch the sun set on the water. Watch the golden light dance and sparkle on the waves like diamonds, and flash on the scales of jumping fish. Listen to the tide lap gently on the shore. Reach your hands into the water and dig your fingers into the wet silt. Watch the gulls fly lazily in the gentle breeze overhead, watch the sun set until the last shards of light fade into red embers behind the horizon, the horizon that stretches as far as you can see in either direction.

Just… let go of it all, every once in a while. It’s so easy to get caught up in small things, little slights and petty squabbles. Humans pride themselves in words and numbers, insignificant symbols we use to make sense of things we can’t imagine. Try not to let them crowd your mind; let them fall away, and see the world as it is, unclouded by meaning. Experience the beauty of the world in its raw, unprocessed form.

Or something. Idk, I’m just some little gay person in your phone. Do whatever I guess. Anyway.

[absolutebl]

Kdramas That Should be Remade as KBLs

So @inthenevernight asked me this epic question. And I feel like I’ve been waiting a lifetime for it.... 

I’m going to go with actual Kdramas being remade as full treatment BLs (12-16 episodes of 30-45 min each) by Korea in the same vein as the original offering, because I could go nuts with KBL remakes of other country’s het dramas* (Something in My Smile anyone?), or other countries doing their BL takes Kdramas, or having to pick ones that KBL will shrink to the usual short treatment. 

In other words: 

direct 1 to 1, Kdrama ---> KBL only! 

Also, I gotta keep myself under control. So I’m picking TOP 10. 

10 Kdramas I Want Remade as BLs 

Welcome to a regular installment of MAKE IT GAY, YOU COWARDS! 

1. Hospital Playlist

HOSPITAL PLAYLIST hospital playlist hospital playlist hospital playlist hospital playlist hospital playlist hospital playlist hospital playlist hospital playlist hospital playlist 

*gasp* 

This is my favorite Kdrama of all time and I would DIE for the queer friendship group version. Same deal, same egos and attitudes and specialities, just ALL of them are queer.  

2. Descendants of the Sun

Look it could just be gay and not a whole lot would change plot-wise except there’d be real tension and issues with them getting together because military dude. There could still also be conflict between healer/warrior life philosophies. Could still be the same flirting dynamic. 

Go on, ask me how much do I want gay in the Korean military to happen in a BL? SO FLIPPING MUCH. Will it ever. ABSOLUTELY NOT. 

I am a perverse mf. 

3. Uncanny Counter 

Secret cabal of queer af superheroes fights demons out of a noodle shop. Outcast is outcast and bullied because he’s gay. Gay = superpower. It writes itself. *waves hand in air* Make it so. 

Actually I’d settle for Strong Woman Do Bong Soon only gay as well. 

4. Gogh, The Starry Night

Basically a kind of in office-set Boys Over Flowers (reverse harem romance meets bully romance), and I’ve been wanting that for a while from BL. 

Hell, I could see just a BL Boys Over Flowers, for that matter. Doesn’t qualify though because it’s technically Japanese. Also I think, if anyone does this, it should be Thailand. 

5. W

This is one of my favorite Kdramas ever, because it is all about the narrative journeys. Also it uses a narrative conceit, portal fiction (which is portal fantasy, only the portal is to a fictional world) that is popular in Asia but not the west. I love this kind of alt reality story* and W is unquestionably the best of the best. 

6. Run-On

Emotionally unavailable (spectrum? demi?) poor little rich kid jock trying to do the right thing meets morally grounded sunshine orphan chaos monkey. Everything else could stay the same, their jobs and roles, the publicly issues, the relationship issues (can’t be gay when daddy is a politician) and sports bullying plot thread, even the hyung (formerly noona) romance side dishes could be the same, only BL. 

7. What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim? 

How could I not want this dynamic? It’s basically old school whipping boy and watching Foei in Cutie Pie just makes me want this to happen from Korea more. 

8. Heirs 

Of course I want this messy craptastic bully meets spoiled prince abusing his power... only gay. Why tf not? Terribly problematic no matter what, but the messy would be such fun to watch play out as queer if the uke is a boy, especially if he is a super tough street kid type, since the power differential is a bit less extreme when they are both male so it wouldn’t be as anti-feminist as the original. 

9. When the Camellia Blooms

Single dad in a small town trying to make a new life for himself, younger sunshine paladin cop falls in love with him. Whole town is against them. Frankly this one works BETTER as a gay romance than it did as a het one. 

10. Romance is a Bonus Book

I love me a noona and a pining boy since childhood, I think this could be done gay too. Something in the Rain features the variation on this dynamic that I like even more (best friend’s younger brother) but I like the second half and ending of Romance is a Bonus Book better, so I think it would be a better as a direct adaption. But if I had my druthers just combine both stories, then adapt. 

Others I’d love to see BL: 

Melancholia 

Beauty Inside 

Thumping Spike 

Strongest Deliveryman 

Love and Leashes 

Mystic Pop-Up Bar 

Rookie Historian 

100 Days My Prince 

Lawless Lawyer 

Devil Judge (nash)

Doom At Your Service (although I feel like we are kind of getting this with Dear Doctor, I’m Coming For You Soul from Thailand).

I didn’t say True Beauty because I kind of feel like Light On Me is the BL version of True Beauty already. 

* Ask me how much I want Taiwan’s Lost Romance remade as a boy falling into a BL? No seriously, I’d wait because I WANT THIS MORE THAN I WANT FOOD. And food is my love language. Anygay, if you are as into narrative tropes as I am watch this show. (It’s on Viki.) 

(source)

[cyoc49]

HIMBO Magazine: Talent Scouting

HIMBO Magazine: The Gay Man’s Guide to Modern Fashion & Lifestyle™

Despite the exaggerated name, HIMBO has provided joy, hope, and wisdom to countless gay men across the United States. It’s finger remained on the pulse of the latest queer trends, making it a must-have for the social homosexual. For many up-and-coming gay men, a job at HIMBO would be a dream come true. Unfortunately, job openings at HIMBO are few and extremely selective. For the lucky few that do get them, though, it often ends up being an offer too good to refuse.

Christian Le Maître, HIMBO’s CEO and Editor-in-Chief, is a large part of why that is. As a policy, he selects, contacts, and interviews all potential employees himself, to ensure that only the best men would join his team... and of course, to make sure only the best would service him. “Mr. M”, as the office called him, was a very fair and generous employer: he offers fantastic salaries and benefits. One of the most important benefits, however, was a secret one: a total rewrite to ensure you’ll be the perfect fit for HIMBO’s elite. You might become a little devoted to your boss, but with Mr. M that was not a bad thing at all.

Currently, Christian is in the market for a new Personal Assistant. A few of his boys would soon be promoted to the house-husbands of Manhattan’s elite. Before he let them go, he needed to bring in someone new to fill their role. And also, if he was being honest, he was ready to spice up his selection of boys a bit.

After weeks of studying the area surrounding the office, Christian had found the perfect candidate: A slacker barista at a local café. Absolutely gorgeous, but content to smoke all day and let life pass him by slowly. It’s such a waste, Christian thought to himself, that body could be put to such better use. If there was anyone to fix that, it was Christian Le Maître.

As for how he would get this young man to join his ranks, that would be a bit more tricky. Usually he would get the fresh meat to come into his office, where they would be fully subject to his... influence. But this man would not accept a job if it came running towards him, so he would need to use a different approach. An email, imbued with special properties that would slowly but persistently bring him around to Mr. M’s way of thinking.

Christian began to type up the email. In his special way, Christian already knew the boy’s email address, as well as a whole host of other information about him. As he composed the invitation to HIMBO, Christian let his persuasion flow into the words...

Mark Matthews had two items on his to-do list for the day. After clocking out of his (four hour) shift at the Pink Elephant Café, he had done #1, and as he headed towards the riverside with a joint in his pocket, he was getting ready to complete #2. Mark had never understood the pressure to aim high: if we’re all just evolved monkeys, why not stick to the natural urge to have a good time? He had always done the bare minimum to get by, relying on his natural charm and good looks to do the rest. Though his friend group had never stayed consistent, and he had never been in a relationship with a woman that lasted longer than a weekend, Mark felt that he was at just the right place in his life.

On his way to the beach, his phone vibrated. He could tell from sound it was the email jingle (aka the “ignore” jingle), but as the phone vibrated in his pocket, it sent an unexpected wave of pleasure through his thigh. Mark gasped as the euphoria shot through his system, but quickly pulled himself together before anyone on the street noticed. He then immediately pulled his phone out of his pocket, filled with the sudden desire to see what had caused the feeling.

FROM: HIMBO_Recruit@Qmail.com

SUBJECT: Congratulations

A dull life is a life wasted

And that’s no fun at all.

Respect yourself and those above you

That’s how you’ll stand tall.

When you learn professionalism

And learn to know your place

You’ll suit up like the big boys do

And that’s when HIMBO awaits.

- Christian Le Maître HIMBO Offices, 1544 ________ Street

...What the fuck? This was understandably Mark’s first reaction. This went beyond regular spam, it was just weird. Wasn’t HIMBO that gay guy magazine, why were the emailing him? And why did it rhyme? Do gay people really like poetry that much? Whatever it was, Mark quickly deleted it and went on his way to the shore.

But even as he walked, the words in the email were starting to scratch at the back of his head. A dull life is a life wasted. Was that about him? It couldn’t be... was he wasting his life? He had never thought so before, but he suddenly found that question eating away at him. He had his routine down pretty well, but could he do better? Did he respect himself? 

…What was he thinking? Of course he did. Some junk email was not going to ruin his day.

Mark finally sat down at his favorite bench and lit up. As he watched people go by on the street, he found himself looking at the hot women less than usual. Instead, it was the businessmen that caught his eye today. The big boys, as the e-mail had weirdly called them. For the first time, he found himself wondering how it felt to be them. As they went to and from their offices. They were doing things with their lives. Professional. Could that be him some day?

Mark rode out the rest of his high and eventually made his way home, but even as he unwound in the evening, he still pondered the possibility of living the corporate life. Finding his place in the hierarchy of corporate America. The thought had once disgusted him, but now he didn’t know how he felt. And that scared him.

The Next Day...

Mark had an 11:45 alarm set for his 12 PM shift at the Pink Elephant. It had been a long time since he had clocked in at the actual start of his shift. How he remained employed was anyones guess.

Today however, Mark found himself up and ready at 10 AM. It had been a long time since he had been up this early, but some force inside him felt the urgent need to go to work. I mean, if he was on time for work, then he certainly wasn’t a waste. Mark walked over to his dresser. He was preparing to get out something casual, a band shirt and ripped jeans like usual. But as he looked at his options he felt another stirring. You’ll suit up like the big boys do. Mark didn’t own anything close to a suit, but he had a few bits and pieces for formal occasions. If he really wanted to stick it to upper management and show he wasn’t some dull slacker, he could blow them away with a keen outfit selection. Something that said “success”, like the men in suits he had seen the other day. He fished around until he found some of the few “nice” pieces of clothes he owned: a cardigan, some tan chinos, and leather shoes. Paired with a (clean) t-shirt, Mark thought it gave him a look that said business without being too serious.

Mark walked into the bathroom and finished up by styling his hair. After he was done, he looked at himself in the mirror.

... Not too bad! Definitely way dressier than he would ever normally go, but enough to surprise his managers. With an hour to spare, Mark left his apartment and showed up to work at 11:30, half an hour before the start of his shift.

Inside, his coworker Audrey and his manager Todd were already there.

“Do my eyes deceive me? Is Mark… early for once?” Todd sarcastically asked.

“And what are you wearing? Where’s the Tommy Bahama shit?”

Mark got ready to snap back at them, but something held him back. Instead, he just politely responded “Felt like getting a head start on today”, slipped an apron over his head, and went to his station.

Audrey and Todd glanced at each other, both sketched out at Mark’s sudden change of attitude. But when you make minimum wage at a café, there’s only so much you’re willing to care about, so they dropped the issue fairly quickly. At least he wasn’t dragging his ass for once.

On the contrary, Mark was having what was possibly the most productive work day of his life. Gone was his normal slow pace and unapproachable attitude. Mark was serving every customer in expert time, and doing it with a friendly smile. There was a rush of energy inside him, a desire to show that he could do his job well if he felt like it. It seemed like the outfit switch up was giving him a new perspective for the day.

Mark took customers orders, restocked the food shelves, organized the store room, and much much more. He did it all in rotation. He lost track of time as he let his work absorb him.

It wasn’t until he was in the midst of mopping the floor that he thought to check the time. The nearest clock said 6:30. He usually clocked out at 4.

“Oh god! I’ve been here two hours over time?!” Mark exclaimed with disbelief.

Todd snorted from behind the counter. “I mean, I wasn’t gonna stop you from cleaning the bathrooms. And you did some good work. I’m liking this new Mark.”

“A guy changes his pants and suddenly he’s a different person. You’re lucky I lost track of time.” Mark took off his apron and prepared to throw it at Todd for that last remark, but hung it on a hook instead. As he headed towards the shops exit, Mark shouted over his shoulder “I better get extra pay for this.”

He couldn’t believe he had lost track of time for that long. And he wasn’t even doing anything fun, he was just cleaning up the store. That was the worst part of it: how earnestly he had given help to the job that didn’t give a shit about him. What had come over him? Is this what those businessmen are like? … Is that what he could be like?

These thoughts weighed on Mark’s mind for the remainder of his walk home. When he got back to his house, he threw the cardigan and chinos on his bed, leaving him in a t shirt and boxers. Mark walked to the mirror and took a long look at himself. This was who he really was, right? A casual guy who didn’t care about his appearance or making people happy. That dress-up good worker stuff was a nice change of pace for a day, but that’s all it was.

Mark chuckled. Yeah, that was right. He didn’t need this people pleasing businessman bullshit. Honestly, he might skip work tomorrow and get high in the park. Keep Todd from getting too attached to this new hard worker Mark. And besides, he had basically done two days worth of work today, why not take a day off-

Hiss phone buzzed with the same orgasmic tone as yesterday. Even from across the room he felt his legs quiver as his whole body was flooded with pleasure. It had to be the same people as yesterday. He went over and picked up his phone. Maybe this email would help him figure out what had happened. You know, so he would know what to ignore going forward.

FROM: HIMBO_Recruit@Qmail.com SUBJECT: Imagine working at HIMBO - Christian Le Maître HIMBO Offices, 1544 ________ Street

ATTACHMENT: The HIMBO Professional.pdf

Against his better judgement, Mark opened the PDF. As soon as he did, his phone must have glitched and set itself to max brightness, because the whole screen flashed with bright white light that was painful to look at. Mark recoiled as his eyes were assaulted by the bright phone and dropped it in the process. He rubbed his eyes and blinked several times as his vision readjusted, but even after a few minutes had passed things still looked blurry.

Something inside Mark told him how to solve this problem. Instinctively, he reached over to his bedside table and put on his glasses. He blinked a few more times, and could see perfectly again.

For a brief moment he felt confused, like he shouldn’t be wearing glasses. But this feeling quickly passed and was replaced with another feeling - no, an understanding - that this was definitely right. He needed his glasses to see, always had. He glanced over to see his reflection in the mirror. Honestly, how could those jerks at work ever say he didn’t take his job seriously. With these horn-rimmed bad boys on, honestly he could be wearing nothing else and still look like a professional.

A professional?

Why the fuck am I so concerned about being a “professional”?

Being professional disgusted him.  And yet, even as he tried to vehemently disagree with the word, it stuck to his brain like glue. Like “PROFESSIONAL” was seared across his forehead in big letters. He went from disgust to fear at his seeming inability to focus on anything other than this one single word. How could he get this to go awa-

The PDF!

That was it! The PDF was titled “The HIMBO Professional”. He was probably just trying to remember what he had been doing before he dropped his phone. Shaking his head, Mark returned to the document.

“A HIMBO Professional is a hard worker

A HIMBO Professional is a good boy

A HIMBO Professional obeys the boss

A HIMBO Professional dresses his body well

A HIMBO Professional feeds his body

A HIMBO Professional is a good boy

A HIMBO Professional is you”

Interspersed throughout these sentences were photos of immaculately suited businessmen, slicked beacons of proper masculinity. Without realizing what was happening, Mark was entranced by the document and stared at the images and words for hours on end. They permeated his mind, absorbed him. The glory of being a HIMBO Professional. The joy of being a good boy. It flooded him. He couldn’t pay attention to anything else but the words.

The hours passed late into the night, and Mark kept thinking about what he read. Putting his phone down, trying to go to bed, and picking it back up to read all over again. His mind could not think about anything else. And as he finally hazily passed into sleep, the thoughts followed him into his dreams, as he pictured himself being serviced by businessmen. They dressed him up in their suits and forced him to strip it all off as they stood over him. He bent down on all fours, as felt pure ecstasy as the men filled him with loads of obedience, punctuality, submission, diligence, ravenous desire, over and over, and over, ravishing his subconscious.

Respect yourself and those above you

Learn to know your place

You’ll suit up like the big boys do

And that’s when HIMBO awaits

The contents of the email hazily echoed through his mind as this scene played out, only stopped by the ring of Mark’s alarm at 8AM, as he realized it was

The Next Day...

But even as Mark got up and prepared for the day, he still felt the PDF and his dream occupying his mind. He kept thinking about that true calling. He couldn’t stop comparing his own life to those of the businessmen he saw, and the concerning thing was he didn’t know who he felt sorry for any more. Mark absentmindedly got ready as these questions continued to clash in his head. When he had his work clothes on he turned around to check his hair.

And was greeted in the mirror by a total stranger.

Mark’s usual surf-stoner wardrobe was gone entirely. He had on a button down office shirt with a bright plaid pattern, fully buttoned including the cuffs. It was tucked into a perfectly pressed pair of navy slacks, with a smooth leather belt holding everything together. Instead of sneakers on his feet he had... were those loafers?? And of course, his glasses perched on his face, along with his hair combed into a nice neat cut. He could even feel a slight touch of pomade running through it.

I look like a… corporate dork! This was the first thing that came to Mark’s mind as he viewed himself in the mirror. Where did he even get these clothes?? He didn’t own anything like this. Even worse was how his posture had subtly shifted to match the look: Mark stood straight as a board, with his chest pushed out, derrière turned up, and hands clasped behind his back to accentuate the best features of the office outfit.

He shook his head in horror, and yet at the same time, Mark had a feeling that this was very very right. Look at the way this shirt fit him. He looked professional, and it made him... handsome was the word that popped in his mind. Why did he feel this way? Why did he feel so good dressed like this?

He remembered the address at the bottom of the email. HIMBO offices. No matter what was happening to him, they were the common factor. Forget the café today, Mark needed to find out who had been sending him these emails, and get some closure to this whole ordeal.

Mark reached the office building reading “HIMBO”, and inside he was pointed to the appropriate floor by a helpful directory. As he got off the elevator he looked at the occupants of the office. All men, some of them in eccentric fashion and costumes, but a lot more in suits and ties. They were like the office workers he had seen on the streets, but more... refined. As if they had taken the traditional corporate uniform and perfected it to accentuate a clean, crisp man. Mark’s eyes lingered on several of these men as he approached the front desk, where he was greeted by a twinkish receptionist. He was also suited in a brown and pink number, with a touch more flamboyance than the others. He looked at Mark with familiarity, as if he already knew who Mark was.

“Welcome to HIMBO! How can I help you, dear?” The receptionist asked.

“I- uh, uh...” Mark found himself suddenly lost for words. The fact that he had not only seen all these perfectly suited men, but was lingering in their presence, overwhelmed him. Even in his dorky corporate best, compared to everyone else Mark felt underdressed and... inferior?

The secretary only laughed as Mark stuttered “At a loss for words, huh? I don’t blame you. All these studs walking around here leave me breathless half the time too. Luckily I have the best view in the office.” The secretary giggled and winked as he said this. “Now I think I know who you’re here to see. Mr. M told me he was expecting an out of office hire to show up soon.”

Mark stood with his mouth open in confusion. Was he talking about the guy who signed the emails?

Taking this as enough of a response, the receptionist stood up “Here, follow me. I know the guy that can help you out.” He walked around the desk, took the dazed Mark by the hand, and led him down the hallway.

Eventually they came to a large oak door. The receptionist knocked three times, and was greeted with a deep voice saying “Let him in”.

The receptionist turned to Mark and said, “He’s ready for you! I think he’ll have the answer to all your questions. Just head on in.”

The receptionist gave Mark an encouraging pat on the back. Mark opened the door and entered the room, unsure of what he even wanted to say any more. Seeing the office had completely thrown Mark off his game. He had been expecting a way out of this mess, but now he couldn’t tell if he wanted to leave or be pulled in the deep end.

When he entered the room, he found clarity in the form of a gorgeous suited man.

Everything Mark admired and envied about the businessmen he had been ogling the last few days was perfectly wrapped up in the man standing before him. He was tall, broad, handsome as all hell. He exuded power and charisma. And as he stared at Mark, Mark felt like a worm writhing in his superior presence.

“Mark, it’s lovely to finally meet you! I’m Christian Le Maître. I believe you’ve been getting my emails?” that gorgeous baritone rang out again.

“I uh, nice to meet you too…” Mark could not think of a proper response. The sight of this man was overwhelming him and making him reevaluate his life all at once. That was an effect that Mr. M had on people. From an outsider’s point of view, Mark was staring dumbfounded at the man before him, lost in a trance of his presence.

“I’m sure you’ve been feeling strange these last few days, Mark. And I’m here to tell you that your worries will soon be over. I spotted you a few days ago and I immediately knew that you have a lot of great qualities. Handsome, charming, I bet any girl would kill to have you.”

Mark slowly nodded. Once upon a time this had been true, though he hadn’t thought much about women at all these last few days.

“But I could also tell you were missing something in life. Running around, doing drugs and slacking off. It breaks my heart to see it. Because all that great potential in you was going to waste. What you need is a strong male figure in your life.”

Mark’s nodding was slowly getting more intense. Upon hearing the words strong male figure he could feel himself getting excited. For some reason this was exactly what he wanted

All at once, Mark understood. There had always been an emptiness in his life. The only way for him to be happy was by making other people happy... The only way for him to be happy was by making Christian Le Maître happy.

The reason he felt inferior is because he was inferior. He was obsessed with the corporate men around him not because he wanted to be them, but because he realized he never could be them. They had a power and a confidence he could only dream of. Mark realized his place was one of subservience. Subservience to strong, suited men. Subservience to the men of HIMBO. Subservience to Mr. M.

“Lucky for you, I’m in need of a new personal assistant. Someone to wait on me hand and foot all day, do all my tasks. Keep me happy.”

Slowly the fog surrounding Mark’s mind cleared away, and with it went all of his old persona. What was left behind was a brand new Mark. A very different one, but one that felt like he was seeing things clearly for the first time ever.

“Oh yes sir! I’d love to join your team! You’re the only boss I could ever ask for!” Mark ran over and kneeled in front of Christian, begging with clasped hands before him. “It would be an honor to work at HIMBO.”

Christian chuckled, and Mark was filled with a feeling of euphoria knowing that he had made Christian Le Maître, the greatest man on earth, laugh like this. All he wanted to do was make Christian happy.

“Well I’m glad to hear that Mark! That’s the kind of enthusiasm I’m looking for at HIMBO. I can see you’ve already taken a lot of my emails’ suggestions to heart, but I can still think of a few more changes to make you the perfect PA. And I think it would be best…” Christian paused. He looked down at Mark, noticing his kneeled position, “… If you got a taste of what you’d be working with.”

Without a second thought, Mark opened his mouth and bared his tongue. He was ready to do anything for Christian, it was his one purpose in life.

The powerful man smiled and unzipped his pants. He pulled out his mighty member (My god! It was the biggest Mark had ever seen!) and Mark quickly went to work pleasuring him. Despite being straight until about 5 minutes ago, Mark did this masterfully, as if his mouth was perfectly suited for Mr. M’s python. As Mark worked, Christian filled him up with massive load after massive load, and with each one Mark changed more and more into the perfect assistant for Christian. His teeth became pristinely white and shiny, as if they were coated in Vaseline. His hair gelled up higher into a permanent quiffed side part. His posture became rigid and obedient at all times. A plaid bow tie slid around his neck into a perfectly done bow, his shirt lightened to a light blue plaid pattern (a voice in Mark’s brain told him that he always color coordinated his outfits, as Mr. M liked him when he looked put-together. Pastels were his favorite), and a cardigan slipped over the top of the ensemble. His already muscular body filled out more underneath the chaste getup, with his buttocks significantly expanding and pushing his slacks to their limit. Within them, the two pillows contained an insatiable hole, always quivering for one man’s cock. As for his own penis, Mark could feel it shrink down in stark contrast to the rest of his bulking body, until it was no more than a nub that would barely provide him pleasure. And as he felt the metal touch of a cage locking around what remained of his manhood, Mark new that pleasure would only come with the permission of his new boss.

As Mark finished satisfying his new boss and master, he stood up, completely changed mentally as well as physically. He retained his buff bimbo body, but it was completely trapped underneath the wardrobe and mind of a wimpy subservient bottom. He could barely get a sentence out without slipping “sir” somewhere in it.

He was no longer Mark Matthews, he was Marcus Meekerson, the devoted Personal Assistant of Christian Le Maître, always ready to assist him in whatever way he needed.

Mr. M chuckled again, and this time Marcus nearly came in his pants listening to the sound of his boss happy (though he knew he could not come without Mr. M’s permission).

“Marcus, I have to say I am beyond happy with your work. Now I know this is sudden, but I hope you don’t mind if I ask you to move into my residence full time. I would greatly appreciate having access to your services around the clock. I have the perfect quarters set up for you to live in.”

Marcus bounced on his toes at this offer, “Sir, this is the best news I could ever hope for! It would be an honor to live in your abode. How lucky am I to have the best boss ever!”

“I’m mighty pleased to hear that, Marcus”

“No problem, Mr. Le Maître! You know I’d do anything for you!” Marcus burst out in the brightest, most earnest smile he had ever made. No longer would he worry about having no direction in life, he had found somebody to take care of all those decisions for him. What he dressed, what he ate, everything about his life would be under Christian’s control now, a figurative lock and key. Not a single thought ran through Marcus’ head, and he liked it that way. Things were simpler now, they were better. Marcus had found his purpose.

He could finally say he was truly happy.

[the-chicken-or-the-banana]

I always wondered how the foxes would react to finding out that it was andrew that "hit on" neil first (specially Kevin, since he was just standing right there while that happened)

(now, i don't think they would willing just talk about it but if one of them slip up...)

Btw: i absolutely adored the goodbye kisses series

AHHH sorry for being so MIA lately but i'm absolutely loving this! also i'm realizing that i'm very bad at actually getting to the point so enjoy a shit ton of irrelevant exposition :)

read it on ao3 here

— ··· —

Kevin didn't understand why they had to come to the zoo. It was smelly, there were kids screaming everywhere, and he'd nearly been stepped on three times in the past 10 minutes. He much rather preferred exy to this.

Team bonding sucked.

He trudged along beside Aaron as Dan, Matt, and Nicky actually tried socializing with the new Foxes. Normally, Kevin would jump at the chance to talk about exy with these recruits, but also, normally he didn't feel like he'd just just rolled through a flaming dumpster filled with screeching, pooping monkeys.

Kevin let out a sigh as they passed some sort of mildly interesting snake exhibit. He nudged Aaron, who was on his phone with a red face, which meant he was either texting lovey-dovey things to Katelyn or blasting an idiot in his Ochem class. You never really knew with him.

"Aaron."

Aaron just scowled at him. Kevin sighed again. Conversing was always so much more exhausting than he anticipated.

"Snakes."

"What."

"Do you want to... see the snakes?"

Aaron blinked in confusion. "Okay?"

Kevin led them to the snakes.

There, they shoved past some families and made it to the front of the glass enclosure.

"Well?" Aaron asked. "Now what do we do?"

Valid question, Kevin thought. He hadn't really considered what they were doing. He just wanted to see snakes.

He told Aaron as much, who rolled his eyes aggressively and went back to his phone.

Kevin felt a tap on his shoulder and twisted around, coming face-to-face (well, more like chest-to-face) with some sort of tour or information guide.

"Hi!" she smiled all too brightly. Kevin wanted to cover his eyes. "How are you enjoying the exhibition?"

"Um," Kevin gulped eloquently, then remembered his media training. "Oh yeah, it's great!"

"Awesome," she beamed. "You know, there's a snake feeding session in about 5 minutes if you and your son are interested."

Kevin's face contorted in confusion. He whirled around, assuming some tiny, lost child was latched near him, but when he turned back, the lady — Sandy — had her gaze intensely focused on the only other small person near him: Aaron.

Oh dear.

Aaron seemed to come to the same conclusion as Kevin did because his eyes widened comically and he hissed "I. am. not. his. son."

Sandy blinked owlishly. "Little brother then?"

Aaron threw his hands up. "I am 21! Leave me alone." He then proceeded to stomp out of the enclosure, dragging Kevin along and leaving a very flummoxed old lady behind them.

"I can't believe it," Aaron kept muttering. "Your son. Your son! I hate life."

Kevin was a bit miffed that he hadn't actually been able to see the snakes, but he figured Aaron's plight was slightly more significant than that.

After a few moments of silent walking (Kevin) and angry grumbing (Aaron), Kevin realized he couldn't see any of the Foxes anymore. He glanced around, instinctively searching for Andrew.

"Hey, do you know where Andrew and Neil went?" Kevin asked.

Aaron scoffed. "They're probably making out somewhere."

"Who's making out?"

Aaron and Kevin both gave unholy screeches as they turned around to find Nicky standing between them, a wide, innocent grin on his face.

"What the fuck," Aaron complained. "Don't do that again, you bitch."

Nicky waved him off. "Shut up. Who's making out? Might be able to close some bets."

Kevin rolled his eyes. "We just can't find Andrew and Neil anywhere. Aaron seems to believe they're off deflowering a zoo Port-A-Potty or something."

"Well then, we wouldn't want to interrupt them, right?" Nicky winked. "Anyways, we're all going to the butterfly exhibit right now so y'all have to join us. I'm not taking no for an answer."

It seemed that they had no choice, so after sharing a resigned glance, Kevin and Aaron trudged behind an overly enthusiastic Nicky while he babbled on about some parrots that he saw. It really didn't seem as interesting as Nicky was making it out to be, but Kevin didn't want to say anything lest he was expected to participate in the conversation too.

They finally reached the butterfly exhibit where the other Foxes were waiting for them. They entered as a mass of loud, mildy buff, smelly athletes and got more than a few glares from the parents of young children who moved out of the way.

But in all this movement, the path cleared and Kevin found... Andrew and Neil? He was about to turn to Aaron and tell him that they evidently not making out, until he noticed how still Andrew was standing and the glee on Neil's face.

Nicky's gaze caught onto them a second later, because he squealed and grabbed Kevin's arm, jabbing his finger at the sight.

"Oh my God," he whispered. "Is that a butterfly on Andrew's nose? That is adorable."

Kevin squinted, and yes, that's exactly what it appeared to be. Nicky's outburst had caught Allison's attention, and she began marching over to Neil and Andrew, the rest of the Foxes in tow.

Kevin could already tell this was going to be a mess.

When they finally reached Andrew, Aaron was the first to speak. "What the fuck?" he asked flatly. Andrew glared at him. Slowly, as to not move the butterfly, he raised his hand to gently flip off his brother.

Nicky immediately started cooing. "Aww, don't worry Andrew! I think you look adorable."

Andrew began slipping out a knife.

On Allison's left, Kevin saw Dan practically shaking with laughter as she pulled out her camera and snapped a picture.

Neil opened his mouth, probably to tell off Dan but Nicky rushed in to talk to him.

"Soooo," he waggled his eyebrows. "I didn't know you could see the future, Neil."

Neil stared at him blankly and turned back to Andrew as he pulled out a map, but Nicky rallied on.

"Like, you must have been able to predict that one day Andrew was going to be this adorable. That's why you asked him out, right?"

"What?" Neil asked distractedly. "I never asked him out."

Kevin blinked in surprise. After a moment's consideration, he realized that considering how utterly oblivious Neil could be, it really was no shocker that Andrew had to ask him out first.

"Wait wait wait," Matt shook his head. "So Andrew asked you out?"

Neil waved them off as he continued squinting at the map he was holding. "Yes yes, just go ask Kevin, he was there."

All eyes turned to Kevin. Kevin was very lost.

"What the fuck," Aaron repeated. "I'm so confused."

"Me too," Kevin muttered. "Me too."

— ··· —

After their long day at the zoo was over, the Foxes finally began the trudge back up to their respective dorms. The younger Foxes dozed off immediately, but the older Foxes gathered in the girls' room to drop off the bags they had borrowed for the trip.

In all the commotion, no one really noticed Andrew and Neil leaving together. But right before they slipped out the door, Renee caught sight of them.

"Good night, you two!" she called. Neil turned around and gave her a tired wave, his body slumped on Andrew.

"Wait!" Nicky scrambled off the sofa. "Before I forget: Neil, how did Andrew ask you out?"

Neil blinked sleepily. "Well," he slurred. "He asked if he could blow me."

The room went silent.

Andrew heaved a sigh and dragged Neil out the door, leaving seven wide-eyed, very much awake athletes in their wake. Slowly, everyone turned to Kevin.

"You!" Allison weakly jabbed a finger in his direction. "You knew about this!"

Too late, Kevin realized what Neil's statement meant. Andrew had asked out Neil in front of Kevin. By offering sex. Nothing could have possibly ruined Kevin's night as much as this information had.

He met the Foxes' eyes slowly. Even Renee looked a bit surprised at Neil's admission, but she was clearly biting back a smile. "Trust me," Kevin groaned. "If I had known this had happened, I would have won myself so many bets."

"Damn," Nicky sighed. "I wish Erik and I had such an iconic story. Who knew the quiet, stabby cousin was such a horny gay bastard?"

"I," Aaron announced hotly. "have never wanted to forget a conversation more than this one."

"But Aaron. Andrew asked to blow him."

"Nicky, I swear— "

"OH MY GOD. They're probably having sex right now! Kevin, could you— "

Aaron put his head in his hands. "Please shut up now."

[hargrove-mayfields]

the tags on your football Billy story about autistic kids not being allowed to play sports, gave me the idea of Steve with autism not being allowed on the basketball team and how Billy and maybe Tommy if you want since you write kegboys sometimes would react

It doesn’t take Billy long to notice him, the benchwarmer boy who sits on the sidelines, never getting his shot in a single game, just riding the bench with a smile on his face.

At first he sort of pegs it to mean the kid is just really not good, maybe riding the tails of his daddy’s sportsmanship legacy, but then Billy realizes something, that this kid doesn’t even get to play at practice.

He shows up and he sits there like being excluded is the happiest he’s ever been, and the only time he ever has the ball in his hands at all is if it’s to toss it to one of the boys on the court when it rolls to him.

Despite this though, he has his very own jersey. Number zero. Harrington.

Billy asks Tommy after practice once who this mysterious jersey kid is, and he smiles sort of tight, like maybe Billy shouldn’t have asked him that, and tells him, “I’ll introduce you.”

Tommy walks over to the kid and tells him something that makes him light up, jump to his feet and follow Tommy back over, “Billy, this is my best friend, Steve Harrington.”

Steve just sort of waves, so Billy jumps straight into it. This kid intrigues him and he wants to know more, “There a reason you don’t play, Harrington?”

In response he shrugs his shoulders, hands stuffed in the pockets of his way too big basketball shorts, “I’m not allowed.”

“Why not? You fail some test or something?” Billy tries to ask lightly, not noticing the way Tommy’s face scrunches up before Steve drops a bombshell on him instead, “They don’t let special ed kids on the basketball team.”

And if that’s not bad enough, Tommy then adds, though significantly more bitter than even Steve is, “Or on any team for that matter, whether it’s sports or clubs or debate, you name it. School board denies every last application.”

“Oh.” Billy frowns, totally dumbfounded, his school in California never had any issues with that, “Oh that- that’s bullshit.”

“I know.” They say at the same time, prompting Billy to ask, “They don’t even have like, a separate team?”

“Not enough kids would do it.” Tommy says, and he gets a sharp look from Steve, who corrects him quickly, “Not enough kids could get permission to do it.”

“But that’s such bullshit.” Billy repeats, not very helpfully.

“Nothing we can do about it. We’ve tried everything. Not even momma Harrington could convince the school board, and let me tell you, that woman is scary.”

Steve elbows Tommy for that one, and Tommy laughs softly, throws an arm around his shoulder, but Billy is thinking, biting the corner of his nail in concentration, “Why don’t we start our own team?”

“I don’t know.” Steve’s face scrunches up, and he turns to Tommy, like he doesn’t trust what Billy says, so Billy continues, “No, I’m serious. School says you can’t play for them, so fuck ‘em. There’s courts in the park, I have a ball, and I’m out there half the time watching my little sister anyways. Let’s start our own team.”

Tommy answers for him, “Practice takes up too much time. We’re not gonna be much of a team unless we’re going to be playing at night or in the winter.”

“Then we quit the tigers.” Billy shrugs, like it’s obvious.

Instantly Tommy narrows his eyes, “Very funny, man.”

On the other hand though, Steve looks at him with awe written all over his face, eyes wide and spelling, “You’d really quit for me?”

And Billy, he plays it off like that look doesn’t make his heart melt, claiming, “For you and for Max who’s been talking my ear off about how much she wants to play soccer and whose heart is going to break when she finds out she can’t.”

Convinced, Tommy looks over at Steve, “If you’re in Stevie, I’m in too.”

Steve seems like he’s considering his options, drumming his fingers on the outside of his thigh, occasionally humming softly in thought, and it’s making Billy impatient.

“So?” He asks, to which Steve nods a confirmation to his offer, his hair bouncing with his enthusiasm.

Tommy cracks a crooked smile, holds out a hand for Billy to shake, seal the deal, “You’ve got yourself a team, Hargrove.”

They decide not to give their little team a name, the idea of being called something feels too exclusive, which was the reason they’d all quit the school's team in the first place. Billy had gotten in big trouble when his dad found out he quit for wasting their time and money on basketball, but that was all bullshit anyways, games were only usually a half hour long and were free to get into for the players family, and the school paid for the uniforms.

But that was what he said and what he’d been going to punish Billy for until they found out about the reasoning behind quitting, after which Susan was flattered he cared so much about his little sister, and he got his permission to freely go down to the park and play with the “special” kid.

Neil of course didn’t care about him doing it for Max, he was just concerned with Billy’s public image. Playing ball with the richest family in town's dopey son did nothing but good things for the way their neighbors saw him, so he’d allow it.

A few weeks into their games though, which are mostly just playing HORSE or teaching Steve how to do trickier shots since no coach ever would, Billy has to bring Max along because nobody was going to be home and she wasn’t allowed to be by herself. It’s a dreary day so there aren’t many people around at all, so he decides he’s going to loosen her leash, and walks her over to the playground (that they can see clearly from the courts, he’s not that irresponsible.)

He teasingly offers to push Max on the swings or lift her up to the monkey bars, making her roll her eyes and proudly declare that she’s not a baby anymore, so he chuckles and leaves her be, walking back to the basketball hoops.

Tommy and Steve are just sitting on the old wooden bench just off to the side of the court, waiting for Billy to get back because he’s their little impromptu coach and they can’t start without him, but he notices that they’re sitting awful close together, and between them, Tommy’s hand sits slightly on top of Steve’s, pinky fingers linked together.

Now he knows these two are affectionate, he couldn’t even count how many times Tommy picked Steve up after he made a good shot or ruffled his hair and smiled at him when he messed up, but that was all just friendly affection.

This was different though, he could tell it was from the way Tommy’s eyes snap up and he pulls his hand away, the both of them looking away from each other guiltily.

He feels a little something like jealousy in his chest, or maybe it was just anxiety at the fact that they’d been so obviously holding hands in the public park, but either way, he just kind of freezes up, looking between their two terrified faces until Tommy’s turns angry, standing from the bench so fast the old rusty things creaks loudly and Steve has to cover his ears.

He grabs the front of the baggy jersey Billy wears from his old school's team, the bears, and gets right up in his face, sneering, “You gonna say something, Hargrove?”

And Billy’s not afraid of Tommy, he might be mean, but he’s on his toes to threaten him, and he’s pretty sure they both know Billy would win the fight anyways. He’s not going to fight him though, and he makes that clear, putting his hands up as a clear sign of not going to sock Tommy for yelling at him, “Secrets safe with me, dudes. You go down, I’m going down with you.”

Tommy doesn’t get it though, because he growls, “Right. ‘Cause all that matters is what will happen to your reputation after giving up your precious sport just to hang with a couple of fags, right?”

“Tom.” Steve snaps, but he gets ignored, Billy arguing over him, “Actually, no. You know all that talk about queer kids flocking together without even knowing? That doesn’t come from nothing. I out you, it’s putting a target on my back, and from there it won’t be not long before a little birdie tells the wrong person the right rumor and we’re all dead.”

“Oh.” Tommy says softly, his face falling.

Billy nods sarcastically in response, “Yeah, oh. So let go of my damn shirt before I find a reason to punch you in the face.”

“Can we just play basketball?” Comes a timid request from behind them, so Tommy lets go, wipes his hands on his shorts, and answers him, “‘Course we can, Stevie.”

It doesn’t take long for them to get bored though, none of them are really in the mood to play after that. They play a small game that’s pretty much just Tommy blocking Billy the whole time, but after he shoots the ball they all just let it roll, none of them caring enough to keep the play going. So instead, Tommy offers up his place to hang out there.

It sounds at least better than this, so Billy drops Max off back at home, making her promise not to do anything stupid to get them in trouble until he gets back later that night, and heads straight to Tommy’s like they planned.

The whole drive he’s worrying that they’re gonna pissed at him and beating himself up for not just pretending like he didn’t notice, to the point where he almost just drives right past, but Steve waves at his car from the front window, and he can’t do all this petty angry shit to him.

Tommy’s house is empty for the night, so that means two things, that they’re free to drink as much as they want, (smoking’s a no go though, the smell is too strong and makes Steve upset), and that Steve sits right on Tommy’s lap like it’s nothing.

Which, it is nothing. Billy just told them he was gay too, and now they don’t have to hide from their best friend, so it’s common sense that they wouldn’t.

But Billy, well, he wouldn’t say he’s jealous watching the two of them together, it just makes his chest burn every time they touch or laugh at some joke and whisper amongst themselves like he isn’t even there, or when Steve kisses Tommy’s cheek.

Yeah no, there’s no pretending, Billy is totally jealous. He’s had a thing for Tommy since like, day one of practice when he bounced a basketball back in his own face trying to show off, and Steve for just as long, yearning to know more about the pretty faced mystery kid who turned out to be a total sweetheart and won him over. It’s tearing him to shreds watching them just being happy together without being a part of that.

He wonders if these small town boys have ever even heard of having more than one partner other than like, mormons, and if they haven’t, how is he supposed to bring it up without sounding like a total weirdo. Maybe he could claim that he was just trying not to be left out since they were probably the only queer kids in Hawkins. Or maybe not and Tommy would try to kick his ass again for even trying.

He doesn’t have to do much wondering though, because as pointedly as he’s trying to ignore them, Steve keeps getting closer to Billy on the couch until he’s sitting in his lap, and Billy has to ask, blue eyes going a little wide, cheeks flushing red in a way that had nothing to do with the sunburn he’d gotten at the park earlier, “What’re you doing Steve?”

“You included me. Now I’m including you.” Steve hums and leans his head on Billy’s shoulder, holding eye contact with Tommy.

To say that Billy is flustered and doesn’t know what to do with himself is more than an understatement. He'd like to say he’s not the most inexperienced one here, but it’s not looking good, because he’s flushed as red as a tomato, and the only thing he can think to say is just, “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Tommy says and smiles that big goofy smile of his, a playful imitation of their little argument from before, “And I’d much rather you kiss me than punch me.”

[theunderneath]

Hey! If you don’t mind me asking are you comfortable with writing for the Whitebeard pirate commanders?

Gonna be honest, I think I only know I few. Though I’m willing to learn any of the others. And to add a bit of meat to this ask, I will now go over my options for the ones I know.

Marco

Ok, so I find him very attractive even though he is a stupid pineapple. Like I don't know how he's so attractive because of his hairstyle but it's probably his personality combined with his body, glasses, and body language.

I find his personality very attractive since he is an older man (I have father issues yes) but is also a caregiver. Since he is a doctor he has this energy of care about him while also having some wise years. It's nice having a rock sort of character.

Now onto how this man acts, he is strong and he knows it. With Marco being the second-division captain of the Whitebeards crew, he has this authority to him that I personally love.

Also, his Devil Fruit is badass and cool. Kinda don’t like his dub voice, think it could be a little sleeper or older. In the dub, he sounds like a teenage boy who just hit puberty. Like I wish he had just a bit more age to his voice.

Ace

AHH BABY ACE I LOVE HIM SO MUCH. This boy comes with so much baggage it's crazy. Like he has such wet sad dog energy as a yandere in my brain.

This man is a ball of guilt that hides behind a facade of charisma. He is such a good character and I love him for that. He is also a sad character but still. Our soft boy we all love.

I do find his looks very appealing as well. Like come on he is a shiftless man with loose pants. He is conventionally attractive as well with his slightly waving hair and freckles. I could imagine him wearing gray sweatpants.

Baby soft boy I wish he was alive LIKE COME ON HOW COULD YOU RIP OUT MY HEART LIKE THAT AND KILL WHITEBEARD WHEN WE FIRST GET TO SEE HIM IN HIS WHOLE ASS GLORY LIKE COME ON! I have some feelings about it.

Thatch

Ok so we didn't see a bunch of Thatch since he was pretty much just a character piece to cause conflict between Blackbeard and Whitebeard. So a lot of his characteristics are headcanons of mine or others.

So for his personality, we know he's a social butterfly and seemed like a pretty happy guy. Match that with his cooking attire and his being a Whitebeard pirate, mostly everyone sees him as a sort of a caregiver.

I've seen some art with his pompadour down in a long hairstyle which pleases my monkey brain. I've also seen some art of him getting the Yami Yami no Mi instead of Blackbeard which I find an even cooler concept.

Overall I very much like how malleable he is as a character. He is a nice person but there's a lot of stuff you can do with his character. You could make his backstory almost anything you want.

Izou

My favorite. I think it's my gay-ass mind and straight mind getting confused. They just see “Oh pretty face and nice hair.” then “Straight killer abs.” also men with long hair are just great.

Ok so I'm pretty sure Izou isn't transgender but is more cross-dressing. I think the trans one is his sister, Kiku.

I think Izou is a very beautiful design for my fangirl brain. He has a very feminine face while having a male body. While I do like manly men, there's something about beautiful men that does it for me.

There is also a little character change from his first appearance from Timeskip. He gets gloves in Wano which scratches my brain just a little more.

[accio-victuuri]

Hi can you provide the link to read manhuas you prefer?

Hello Anon! OMG Manhua/Manhwa Rec! Here we go! I’ve only been reading for 2-3 months (consistently), so this will be pretty limited. I will link to the legit sites. A google search will direct you to others.

Most of these are WIPs and some, sadly, are discontinued. I won’t add TGCF or MDZS here cause those are already a given. 👇🏼

• Body Electric by Dong Ye ( completed, supernatural, lots of trigger warnings and plotty )

Ba Song is the hotshot cop who’s been handed an open-and-shut case: the suicide of a young woman. Except… who commits suicide by stabbing their own body and strangling themself? There's only one man who can help him with this mystery — Bo Shan, the renowned forensic pathologist with a severe and cold personality. What's more, his body produces bioelectricity, allowing him to acutely sense bodily injury with his touch. There's an electric current between them, and each touch sizzles with energy

If you like crime dramas and stories where they solve mysterious cases then this is for you. The romance is subtle, and their relationship is not insta-love. strangers to colleagues to friends to lovers trope. This also discusses alot of issues the society has that will make you stop and think. Ba Song is really the honorable MC in here who always wants to help people and do good. While Bo Shan is the reluctant one but deep inside, he wants to make a difference too. I wish they would make a donghua or live action out of this.

• 30 year old by S-Monkey - ( ongoing, age difference, blind dates, slice of life)

Charlie Wei is a single and handsome executive. He’s also a closeted gay guy who’s been on way too many bad blind dates with women. Charlie’s still hung up on his ex-boyfriend James and is… gasp, 30! Charlie’s family thinks he’s straight and too old to be without a wife! During another bad blind date, Charlie meets the flirty Ethan, who both annoys and intrigues him. Can Charlie finally come out and find true love with Ethan or will he continue on his streak of bad blind dates?

The cover looks melodramatic but it’s really not. This is so funny! I read this because people were saying it reminded them of BoXiao. And yes, there are moments here that remind me of them, but it’s more like an AU of BoXiao. I stayed up late trying to get caught up in the chapters and you won’t realize it cause it’s just that good. I love seeing the older MC loosening up and being more of himself. and the younger one being more responsible in his career. They just become better versions of themselves because of each other. It’s so sweet!

• I ship me and my Rival - by Pepa ( ongoing, comedy, reads like a meta )

This follows the adventures of Wei Yanzi, a third-rate actor in the Chinese entertainment industry, stumbles onto a shipping fandom for himself and another actor (Gu Yiliang) while trying to escape from the flame wars and negativity. He's so taken with this group of fans who actually see him as a good guy instead of an enemy/rival of Gu Yiliang that he falls head-first into fandom and becomes actively involved in trying to provide shipping fuel and the fans' daily dose of fluff.

IF THERE IS ONE thing you will read here, let it be this. It is hilarious. If you are a CP fan you will relate so much and it’s a good time. It just shows how people who think are rivals can actually be really good friends in real life. What we see is not always what it seems. and people will interpret things based on their bias. The MC here is so dramatic! how his inner feelings/reactions were drawn will make you laugh.

• Path to You - by Sinran (completed, slice of life, age gap fluff and comedy )

When almost college dropout Jensen attempts to drink away his problems, unemployed Nathaniel suddenly pukes on him and ruins his night. As an apology, Nathaniel offers to help Jensen with his studies. Despite Jensen's difficulties in getting along with people, the two become friends and something deeper begins to grow between them

The story is so soft. If you want something with mild angst/misunderstandings— then pick this. I love the progression of their relationship and how they take care of each other. There are other themes showed here other than the romance.

• Red Candy - by Hanse (completed season one with a cliffhanger, explicit scenes, assassins )

Shihyeon, aka “Red Candy,” is a secret agent whose code name comes from bathing in the blood of his marks on dangerous missions. Shihyeon’s tasked with seducing and obtaining intel from Hajun, a hot college professor. Shihyeon can disarm enemies, but didn’t expect to be disarmed himself by Hajun’s own tight body. Now Shihyeon’s caught between loyalty to his spy agency and Hajun. Can Red Candy survive the incoming wave of enemies and still indulge in the sweet ecstasy of Hajun’s embrace?

THIS STRESSED ME OUT MAAAN. Wow. I loved this. That season one cliffhanger. It’s definitely up there as my favorite. If you think about it, the tropes are really not original. An assassin is sent to shadow a person and they develop a relationship. That simple. But NOOOOO! There are so many things going on. The Main mystery plot, Their relationship, their shared past plus you have other sketchy secondary characters. And did i mention explicit scenes? Lots of them. I want this two to have a happy ending!!!

• Lone Swan - by Chu Man (discontinued, cultivation, star crossed lovers)

After losing his memory, Yiqiu Shen, a disciple from the decent sect meets a very special man named Luofeng Yan, who is the leader of the evil Divine Wind Cult. When escaping and conflicting with Yan, Shen gradually finds his original self as well as his previous love back. Together they rip off the facade of the martial world and reveal the hidden true

I didn’t want to add a discontinued story here, with no novel as a source material but this one made an impact on me. so. yeah. THE ART. breathtaking. The plot = layered. There are times I don’t even know who is telling the truth. It had so much potential and i hope it will get picked up again at some point. People rec this to those who enjoyed TGCF and MDZS, and they are right. 👍🏼

• Dragon in Distress by Si Wang Wen Hua - ( ongoing, dragons, past life, lost power, fantasy )

This is a story about a little Eastern green dragon and a little Western black dragon playing together.

The synopsis is pretty simple if you look at it but this one is pretty interesting. and surprisingly funny. tinie AoAo is so cute! 🤍 the other MC has tsundere tendencies tho. Lots of lore and more truths to uncover as the story progresses. I’m not giving it enough justice with how i’m reccing it, but if you like dragons and fantasy — give this a go.

• Breaking through the clouds 2: Swallow the Sea - Huaishang (ongoing, based on a novel, crime, drama, cases)

Wu Yu, a newcomer of the Public Security Bureau, is gentle and frail. He doesn’t care about the difficulties posed by Bu ZhongHua, his strict boss, and only wants to stay in the background to be paid on time with enough for food. However, no one knows that this young man’s head is targeted by top drug traffickers for a large bounty or that this courageous young man has once slaughtered the dragon of the abyss. With a chain of interlocking cases, a series of troubles come one after another. Can the two people work together to survive through the difficulties?

Do you see a pattern with me? lol. I like crime themes. This one is the same and by the looks of it, the cases they solve will take longer to unravel. I haven’t read the novel it’s based on yet so i’m just going with how the manhua is progressing. I like it when Wu Yu turns full on action-mode and when ZH takes care of him. Plus it helps that they are both gorgeous. I’ll get back this with a proper link.

• Where the Wind Stays - by Yusa (completed season one, curses, demons, possession, timeskip, explicit scenes)

To break an ancient curse that plagues the royal bloodline, young Prince Tasara is destined to be sacrificed in death. Nara is enlisted as a palace servant to carry out the prince’s execution when the time comes. But he develops a soft spot for the cursed prince, and after committing an atrocious and unforgivable act against Tasara, Nara is desperate to right his wrongs. Soon, their lascivious relationship that had been kept under wraps tests his resolve. Will Nara be tempted away from his original mission? There’s no telling how far he would go to earn Tasara’s forgiveness.

This story broke my brain, in a good way. I don’t wanna say much cause it will spoil the story. It’s the type that you gave to see and suffer through yourself. I am excited for what happens in season II!!!

Honorable Mentions:

I’m placing these here cause I have only read a few chapters and tho I liked them, I wanna read more before reccing it in full. 👍🏼

• I accidentally saved the Jinghu’s enemy

• Global Examination

• Monster entertainment

• Demon Apartment

And that’s it! Hope enjoy Anon! 😊

[greensword101]

This is for @barely-nok. I’m sorry it took so long to get some Obake content out for you to consume. I hope you find it tasty lol.

Obake never drank on principle. He needed to keep a clear head and heads were meant for thinking. And thinking meant he could create what he wanted to the limit or even beyond that.

But even sober, his brain would...fizzle if Kei ever so much as blinked at him prettily. Or pouted. Or cheerily threatened to sing “I’m Henry the Eighth , I Am” if he didn’t agree to take a break and - urgh! Just acknowledging the phrase made him feel filthy - spend some “quality time” with a coworker.

Personally speaking, Obake would have preferred the term “expendable” or “replaceable” or “unpaid intern that wasn’t getting extra credit or the merits of knowledge.” Oh, but he would pay anything to get DeciBull out of his sight! And hearing range.

Then again, hearing range would be preferable. Wild cards like Kei were acceptable. DeciBull - or Wil as Kei had casually greeted him by to the former’s chargain -  was more of a Jack; weaker than Obake, but still a threat nonetheless.

If Kei hadn’t taken the car and driven off to God knew where, he would have stormed out of the bar and left that arsehole behind. Maybe steal his glasses and see if the chubby man with a guitar gimmack could find his way back home without falling off the pier.

Wil had barely touched his first bottle and was glowering at his phone for the past half hour. This suited Obake swimmingly, if not for the fact that Kei would know that they hadn’t made any attempt at all and would be tormenting him with that song again! And she would enlist Noodle Burger Boy this time, he was certain. And possibly Trina, though he was certain she would be directed towards Wil instead.

Obake collected himself and recited the longest formulas in the Periodic Table before he rigidly glanced over to Wil.

“I’m surprised you aren’t taking advantage of the karaoke here.”

Wil yelped and fumbled with his phone - mumbling apologies to the bartender as he passed - before gaping at Obake.

“Interesting...” Obake murmured.

“What?” Wil asked bemused.

“You almost looked like an intelligent being for a moment.”

Wil scowled, “Funny.” 

Then a smile crept onto his face. Obake stiffened. He knew he could take the man, he was slimmer and certainly wasn’t sluggish, but bars were always tricky to maneuver around in. Inebriation, sympathizers, or anyone looking for an excuse to be aggressive would make Obake beating Wil up...troublesome.

“Something amusing to you?” Obake took a sip from his own glass to appear ignorant and casual.

“Just thinking how whipped you must be if Kei could make you spend time with me,” Wil leaned in conspiratorially, “Tell me, does she make you sleep on the couch when you misbehave?”

Obake sputtered and and gave Wil a hard stare. Wil stared back undaunted.

“Shut your mouth and have your bloody drink, why don’t you?” Obake snarled and took another, deeper sip from his glass. He was used to dealing with the aggressive and almost territorial behavior Wil demonstrated back at the base. He did not want to be sober to process that Wil was capable of having bloody cheek.

“How can I have my ‘bloody drink’ if my mouth’s shut?” Wil asked innocently.

“Test my patience and we’ll find out soon enough,” Obake growled under his breath. He could do it.  One stab between the ribs and he could slip out in the noise and confusion. He just didn’t want to put up with Kei pestering him when he got back and possibly annoying her with a potential murder.

Wil sniggered and had another swig of his beer. He went back to his phone, but he barely seemed to be reading what was on the screen.

That was...unexpected. But it was a better alternative to dealing with a feral monkey by himself. Obake found himself enjoying the Manhattan more than he expected and finished it off. He was beginning to fish the cherry out when Wil spoke up again.

“Was it good?”

Obake groaned and glowered at Wil, who was starting at his empty glass curiously. What didn’t that fool understand about having a little peace and quiet?

“I don’t typically drink myself,” Wil mumbled into his bottle and drank. He sputtered for a few moments and continued, “I just stick to a beer once in a while.”

“Thank Heaven for small miracles, then,” Obake narrowed his eyes and waved the bartender over, “Another one, if you would be so kind.”

“Me too,” Wil smiled at the bartender and held up his empty bottle. Amazingly, the bartender smiled back and came back moments later with their second drinks. Wil called after him as he walked off, “Thanks, Jim!”

“You frequent this place often?” Obake ventured and helped himself to his second Manhattan. Screw sobriety, it had been so long since he had anything that tasted so good touch his lips.

“I used to,” Wil admitted, “Just for a bite and maybe a bottle. That’s kind of how me and Kei met, actually.”

“A little nip before beddybye?” Obake cooed mockingly at him.

“Crime and I have something in common,” Wil smirked, “We rarely sleep.”

“Tragic,” Obake chuckled and raised his glass in mock salute, “To your insomnia, I suppose.”

Wil raised his beer in kind, “And to good company if I ever get any.”

Now, they both laughed for real. Obake noticed for the first time how pleasantly red Wil’s face had become. Was it the alcohol or the first genuine spark of life he was expressing? If it was the latter, that would mean Kei was behind it somehow.

Suddenly, the good feeling popped like a soap bubble and Obake hid his displeasure by finishing off his second Manhattan. Wil gawked at him.

“You should slow down, Kei is gonna freak if she has to pick us up from the ER because you got alcohol poisoning or something.”

“Kei this, Kei that, you haunt her like a lapdog!” Obake spat out. Damn that woman and her silly, childish notions of fun and damn that boulder she decided would make good company!

Wil blinked and leaned back a little. A moment later, he was glowering back with that familiar hostility, “At least I don’t treat her like a nuisance like you do! Do you have any idea how much she cares about you?!”

“Cares?” Obake snapped his fingers at Jim for another glass and leaned closer to Wil’s face. His nostrils flared and he could feel Wil tense inches away from him. “Why would she have to care about me? If that’s what you call pity, then I’ve no need for it! She can pretend all she wants that we’re all supposed to be some family, but in the end, that’s all it’s going to be. A stupid dream! Why would she care about making me ‘socialize’ with the others or spending ‘quality time’ with her silly boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend?!”

Obake jabbed a finger into Wil’s chest, “Don’t play coy! I know you think I’m a prat to her! And I know you won’t believe that she can almost make me feel human! But you don’t have to worry about me getting in the way, Prince Charming! She’s all yours, so you don’t have to worry about me -”

“I’m gay.”

“And I’m Bob, the pleasure’s all...what.” Obake had to take a moment to process Wil’s flat retort.

“Gay. I like guys. I love them. I love kissing them. And I’m already taken.”

Obake opened his mouth and closed it again. He noticed that his third Manhattan had arrived and wasted no time downing it. Wil didn’t repeat how it wasn’t safe to do this time, and he was thankful for that. 

Suddenly, he felt someone standing right behind him and stilled.

“Is he giving you problems, Wil?”

“No worries, Eugene,” Wil smiled at the person behind him, “Just clearing up a misunderstanding over here.”

Obake felt a little dizzy and pinched his nose, “Let me understand this correctly. You have never had feelings for Kei?”

“Platonically, yes. Romantically or otherwise? No.”

“And this whole time, yo - you’ve...” Why couldn’t he find the right words? “You’ve...acted harshly because...?”

“Because she’s one of my best friends and I don’t want her to get hurt,” Wil said firmly. He pointed at Obake with a fiercely protective look, “I can’t help who she wants to connect with, but I won’t stand by and let her get hurt. She’s gone through too much to deserve that.”

“Alright, I’m just going to butt in for a moment here,” Eugene moved from behind Obake and stood to Wil’s left, wrapping an arm across him protectively. He was pleasant to the eyes; tall, broad, dark brown hair and a scruffy goatee. He looked at Wil, bemused, “You weren’t here scooping for another cutie, babe?”

“Wh...why...why would he...?” Obake’s tongue felt like lead. Dear Lord, he could barely speak, he was so embarrassed.

“Because this is a gay bar?” Eugene supplemented as if it weren’t obvious. Obake blinked. Come to think of it, it was rather odd no one had come to bother them when they came in. Did...did that mean...?

Somewhere in San Fransokyo, Kei was laughing herself silly. Obake was certain of it. 

“Everything alright over here?” Another voice, deeper than Eugene’s mischievous and light tone asked.

“Hey ‘Nan! This is an acquaintance of mine,” Wil helped himself to his beer, “and apparently he thought I was stealing his girlfriend until a few moments ago. Bob, this is Kanan. My other boyfriend.”

“Other...” Obake’s head was swimming. This was too much to process...

“Yeah,” Wil said shyly, “We’re...we’re kind of a poly sort of thing.”

As if to prove his point, Eugene promptly gave Wil a deep kiss on the lips that was eagerly returned. Kanan came into view and Obake noticed how dark skinned he was and the ponytail before he decided he was too sober to handle this all right now.

He made to stand and tripped over his stool. And a moment later, his Manhattans returned and splashed all over the floor.

In hindsight, he should have checked how much alcohol was in each glass...

It was about a half hour later when Kei found all four of them outside the bar with Obake being supported by an irksome Wil and amused Eugene. Kanan looked torn between disapproval and laughter.

“Was it fun?” Kei asked hesitantly. Obake took one look at her and sighed. It was his own fault for drinking too much.

“It was something,” Wil supplemented as he helped buckle Obake into the backseat, “And educational, apparently, so that’s a plus.”

“We were there at the tail-end,” Eugene added helpfully, “It was kind of entertaining.”

“You sure you can take care of this?” Kanan asked Wil.

Wil looked at Obake and sighed, “We’ll be alright. Thanks, anyways.”

“See you at the next heist meet, babe!” Eugene blew a kiss.

“Tell Raps and Hera I said hi!” Wil called back as they drove off.

“And here I thought I’d be picking you up at the police station for a bar brawl,” Kei half joked.

“Stay with me, Bob!” Wil shook Obake gently, “Don’t go to sleep. First rule in treating alcohol poisoning.”

“Piss off...” Obake slurred.

Wil sighed and let his head sink against the headrest for a few moments. Why didn’t he just become an accountant like his parents wanted?

“Wil...” Obake said sluggishly, “In..in the...event...I survive this with my memory intact. Would you...do it again?”

Wil blinked in surprise and chuckled weakly, “Only if you watch what you drink next time, lightweight.”

“Momma’s boy.”

“Evil Brit.”

“Four Eyes.”

“Nnnnnnnnnnneeeee~rrrrrrrrrds!” Kei cackled as her passengers bickered with each other without any former hostility from before.