#Drunk Skunk Rant

[drunkenskunk]

So I've been playing a lot of Helldivers II, and it's really fun!

(at least, it is when the servers are working lmao)

However: there is one thing about the game that annoys me. It's the same thing that always annoys me whenever drop pods are mentioned in science fiction.

Nobody ever seems to get them right!

Whenever drop pods show up, they always seem to depict each pod as a single projectile rocketing towards the surface of a planet, usually behind enemy lines. They're the logical sci fi evolution of airborne infantry dropping in by parachute, because a lot of military sci fi tropes have trouble moving past WWII. And, y'know, that's fine. That's not the issue I have.

The issue is the single projectile part.

It's almost like every writer who includes drop pods forget that anti-aircraft weapons and SAM sites are currently a thing in the real world and would almost certainly still exist and be better in the science fiction space future. Those drop pods rocketing towards the surface would present the juiciest targets imaginable and would almost certainly get shot out of the sky before they even got close to impacting on the surface.

Annoyingly, the only sci fi that I know of to ever get drop pods right is the first one to ever do it: the Starship Troopers novel by Robert Heinlein.

Now, say what you will about Heinlein - and I do, quite often. For the most part, he's not that great of a writer, and his politics are terrible. The man was an asshole who loved writing wet farts of fascist porn, and the novel absolutely pales in comparison to Paul Verhoeven's 1998 masterpiece of satire, where he took one look at the book, rolled his eyes, and started making jerk-off motions.

But when I first read the novel when I was, like, 6 years old, I was a dumbass child and didn't notice (or care) about the... I mean, I'd call it "fascist subtext" except that it's literally just The Text. No, what drew me in was the one singular thing Heinlein was actually good at writing: technical sequences, written from an in-universe lens.

The way he described how the drop pods actually work in the first few pages of the novel - and, more importantly, how they don't immediately get shot out of the sky - is great! It makes sense, it's easy to understand (because Johnny Rico is, let's be honest: an idiot, he's not going to give you a complicated explanation), and it fills in a plot hole you never realized was there.

For as many faults as the man had as both a writer and a human being, and for all the many problems the rest of the book has, that first chapter - and specifically the drop pod sequence - is a great hook.

Like, this is the template for drop pods. This is The Thing that people are referencing whenever drop pods show up in sci fi, like in fucking Halo, or Starcraft, or Warhammer 40k. And everyone always seems to forget the single most important thing about this infantry delivery system: the countermeasures.

I dunno. This is just one of those things that's always annoyed me.

#drunk skunk rant #scifi #drop pods #Helldivers #Helldivers 2 #Helldivers II #Starship Troopers #Robert A Heinlein

[dreamingofspring]

❛ i shouldn’t allow myself to get this close to you. ❜ (self-indulgent pain~ Beejgrazi~)

(in which Remy loves me and I reward that love with pain while introducing mashblr to my oc, the twenty-one year old nurse graziella "grazi" "hotshot" kowalski)

BJ had always been so kind to her. To all the nurses, really. Not in the flirtatious ways of Hawkeye or Trapper John, not with the slightly patronizing "honeys" and "sweethearts" Colonel Blake would indulge in - and god strike her down for speaking ill of the dead. But in a way that reminds her just a little bit of some faces back home - Davey Jacob's brilliant mind, Jack Kelly's cheek, even Liam Conlon's fierce, unwavering loyalty.

She hadn't even sought him out today. No, she had slipped into a corner table at Rosie's, hoping a drink would dull her ache. She thinks of her father, how he must have felt similarly, and drinks more when all logic dictated to put the bottle down. BJ had found her four or five beers in, tear tracks still fresh on her face. He had coaxed her so gently outside for some fresh air and call her naïve, but there was no ulterior motives in his gaze. Blue eyes were brimming with warmth, but no fire. The water near the Navy Yard pier on a gorgeous summer afternoon - familiar, comforting, inviting.

She knows he's married; how could she not? Mail call gets announced and he's all but bum-rushing Radar, eager for word from his wife. Unlike so many other men in the unit, the ones who forgot about their rings or ranted about their wives sneaking around while in bed with another woman themselves, BJ didn't stray. That was one of the truest facts Graziella knew. The sky was blue, there would always be wounded arriving when you try to take a nap, and BJ Hunnicutt was as loyal as they come. The very same nurses who would warn her about how men like Trapper or Hawkeye would chew up fresh meat like her and spit her back out would eye BJ as if hoping he'd do that very thing to them.

She should know better than to accept an invitation into a married man's space. But the Swamp was quiet, with Charles in post op and Hawkeye at the office's club. It gave them the space to sit down, for Grazi to pull the crumpled, tear stained letter from her pocket and allow BJ to inspect the reason for her distress.

"Leo's always been a sickly kid," she sniffles, hugging her knees to her chest, feeling very much a child in this moment despite being a grown woman. "He was a preemie. I think he got whatever weak constitution, or whatever Mama has. S-So it ain't news that he's sick, really, I, I just...I should be home with 'im, with all'a them!"

The sobs begin afresh, thinking of her younger siblings. They were still kids; Tony was barely sixteen, Rosa fifteen, and baby Leo only twelve. Grazi's aware she's on the younger end of officers here at twenty-one but knowing she left behind actual children... They were supposed to be her responsibility! With Mama sick and Papa drunk as a skunk, they needed her! And she left!

She can't articulate any of these thoughts, not with the way her sobs shake her entire frame. She feels the warm of long, strong arms winding around her as BJ pulls her in for a hug. And though she knows she shouldn't, knows it's pushing against some pretty firm boundaries, Graziella allows herself to hold him in return. Fingers clutch desperately at his shirt, seeking an anchor to the moment, to reality, lest the tides of despair wash her way.

Tender as anything, she feels a kiss pressed to the crown of her head as BJ cradles her head to his chest, allowing her tears to soak into the fabric of his shirt without shame or hesitation. It only makes Grazi cry all the harder.

"I-I enlisted for Frankie, for Liam," she blubbers, thoughts shifting to her twin brother and best friend on the front lines, far away from her. "A-And I ain't anywhere close to 'em! I can't, I can't help 'em, I can't help Rosa and the boys back home, I, fuck, I can't do shit here!"

"You save lives here, Graziella," BJ returns fervently, fingers stroking through tangled brown locks. "A hell of a lot of people are grateful you're here instead of Brooklyn. And there are dozens and dozens of nurses just like you at other MASHs and aid stations that are looking out for your brother."

It's true, all of it. They need every spare pair of hands they can get some days and Grazi's done an awful lot of good here. She knows this, she does, but that doesn't make it any less hard to swallow that she should somehow be both here and there.

An impossibility but one that weighs on her nonetheless.

BJ's fingers grip her shoulders, gently coaxing her to pull back. No sooner was her face lifted from his tear-soaked shirt did his hands move again. Long, slender fingers cup her cheeks, swiping away tears as they trickled down from watery brown eyes. "They'll be okay. We have to believe they'll be okay or we'll be too busy being pulled half a world away to take care of the people here."

She sniffles but manages a nod. It wasn't as if crying over her sick little brother was going to heal him, or the patients they're monitoring in post-op, after all.

Her eyes are downcast, trying to compose herself, unaware of the way those ocean blue eyes start to harden, even as his thumbs continue to wipe away the last of her tears. "I shouldn’t allow myself to get this close to you," his words are a whisper on the air, barely audible. But it's enough to pull Graziella out of her wallowing for a moment of lucidity.

God, what was she doing here? Like this? With a married man? A loyal married man, at that?

She smiles, still a little shaky, even as she lifts her hands up to gently grasp BJ's wrists. He offers no resistance when she pulls his hands away from her face. "...You're a real good friend, BJ," she murmurs so sweetly. "So I'll be a good friend right back and get outta your hair. Before we both get a little too friendly, ya know?"

He does know, his eyes say, though his mouth remains pursed in a thin line. A story for another time. A safer, softer time, when he can laugh about it with his pretty wife. Grazi stands, and in a foolish, naïve move, presses a kiss to BJ's hair, just as he had done for her.

She paused, hand pressed to the mesh of the door but not quite opening it. There's another door she needs to close first. She glances back, with a faraway smile and nods once. "Goodnight, Dr. Hunnicutt," she murmurs. She doesn't wait for a reply before walking out of the Swamp, gaze aimed ever forward.

#mine: writing #ocs: graziella kowalski #alcoholism implication tw #sick children tw #ask to tag #bj hunnicutt #ANYWAY THIS WAS 1000+ WORDS OF PAIN HUH

[effervescentdragon]

Hi hello, it’s your favourite under the influence Dee, with our new tradition of me dropping into your ask when I’ve been drinking.

Firstly, drinking was a mistake because I have to be up for work in ….. a number of hours I can count on one hand, and I have to be in the office. I am usually much more sensible than this, but that was genuinely THE WORST DATE OF MY LIFE! And believe me when I say I’ve had some bad dates. 😹

The plan was to get a meal then go have a drink. Except when he eventually turns up, LATE, he tells me he’s already eaten and we’re just going for drinks.

I know I know, I should have left then, but I’m apparently too nice or an idiot. Or y’know maybe I just really liked the cross he was wearing around his neck! 😳 I promise that isn’t the only reason I agreed to the date. But it might have been one of the more compelling factors. I am truly going through something right now.

I told him that we needed to go somewhere I can get a snack or something because I haven’t eaten all day, and he tells me that he’s not impressed by me “being picky” with where we go for a drink.

And it just went downhill from there. When we talked about our hobbies he told me that I could stop “pretending to be into sports” because he wasn’t and it didn’t impress him and wasn’t very “girly”. The final straw was when I said I was starting to re-learn German, he mocked me and then went on a big old racist rant.

So I obviously left, and then fortunately I bumped into some bar staff I know who then helped me drown my sorrows.

ALSO YOU ARE SO RIGHT ABOUT JÄGER!! I officially hate it now. Tequila however will be my one true love. Forever and always.

As I’m writing this I am laid across the back of a taxi, like I’m on a cliché therapists couch, and the driver seems to be finding it all very funny. I told him about my terrible date and he told me about his son who is a doctor and showed me a photo. So I think it’s maybe not the worst night ever.

I ask only for your kind thoughts tomorrow, or today actually - oh no 😿, when I try to survive the bus journey to work 😹😹

Also ily <3

Drunk!Dee shenanigans my BELOVEDS!! 😻😻

Okay, seriously. That dude. Gimme his name and adress, i just wanna talk. 🙃🔪 the fucking audacity of mediocre men, i stg. I give him a point for the cross bcs ngl i wouldve done the same 😳, but he loses all the points for being an absolute dickhead! The casual misogyny, the rudeness, i mean, mabners literally cost you nothing, asshole! Im outraged on your behalf!

I am however happy i got more drunk!Dee content bcs you are hillarious 😹🥰 jäger is the og devils juice, i stand by this. Tequilla is a bit better, tho my most prominent tequila memory (or lack thereof) is being drunk like a skunk on it and assuming a persona of a russian prostitute called sasha in budapest, and pissing off a rich dude from usa (but og from kazahstan) by calling his country "imaginary" and insisting "is all russia, yes?" 😹😹 thanks for reminding me of that!

I hope your day went okay, i hope you hydrated (if not. Please do!) I was sending you kind thohghts, hope it helped 😽 also, pls let me know about the doctor guy 👀 (i have a thing for doctors uniforms. may be med school ptsd/stockholm syndrome ngl)

Thank you for making my day, ily !! ❤️❤️❤️

#dee gets all the rights #dee tag <3 #akira answers asks #i adore this ad infinitum

[t-t-t-t-twain]

Week 7

This week, we read the first half of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn the sort-of sequel to Tom Sawyer. This time around there is much more critical discussion related to this novel and it makes for a much more interesting read. There are tons of things to talk about such as dialect, race, bad faith, satirizing female sentimentality, marriage hierarchy, feuds, and general internal moral conflict. I would like to focus on one particular character and his relation to poverty and bad faith: Pap Finn.

Pap Finn is the worst person in the whole book. He is self-centered, racist, drunk, abusive to Huck, and a leech to everyone else, you name any particular evil and that’s Pap Finn. Low-down, ornery, awful. One of the many past times of Pap Finn, other than taking advantage of people’s kindness so that he can get drunk and use his kid as a free meal ticket, is ranting about the “govment”. This is when he gets drunk as a skunk and tells his child about the wrongdoings of the United States Government. In the particular excerpt I am about to analyze, Pap Finn is ranting about a black man that can vote.

“‘They said he could vote, when he was at home. Well, that let me out. Thinks I, what is the country a-coming to? It was ‘lection day, and I was just about to go and vote, myself if I warn’t too drunk to get there; but when they told me there was a State in this country where they’d let that nigger vote, I drawed out,’” (Twain 42).

Wasn’t that just the loveliest sentiment you’ve ever read? No? I agree.

All jokes aside, what this quote tells us about Pap is that he is hypocritical and that his racism really knows no bounds of logic considering that he would rather have a set of rights go unused than be used by a black person. He would rather stand idly by as the laws change around him than use his right and ability as a US citizen to prevent them from doing so. This is, in the simplest terms, stupid. Pap Finn is stupid. 

So, what does this tell us about poverty, racism, and bad faith? 

I am so glad you asked, (even though you probably didn’t ask at all) because I am going to tell you. This tells us that people that are impoverished are often uneducated and fueled only by their own ignorant teachings. People like Pap Finn remain the way they are because they have no real outlets to learn to be anything different. When other members of the community try to help him they just pass their money to him and get him to cry and swear off drinking, and put on a good show so that they can feel better about themselves, but really no one is taking the time to teach him why what he is doing is wrong. Don’t get too excited, if anyone tried to teach him they would fail because he is an irredeemable character in a work of fiction, however, if Pap Finn were a real person with real complexities there’s a chance that he could change. Furthermore, it seems that poverty beats people down to the point where they have given up on themselves and the rest of the world. Pap blames the government because in a way the government has failed him. When a country’s government can not keep its people from poverty it has failed in a way. Despite that, there are elements of independence and self-reliance that Pap and the real people that he represents just don’t see. Poverty creates bitter, ignorant adults with no functional skills.

In terms of racism and bad faith, it’s obvious that Pap just follows the same system that everyone followed in the slave-owning south. He believes that black people are beneath him and he is angry when he sees any sort of success fall upon the life of a black person, but he doesn’t really follow bad faith. 

I guess I should explain what bad faith is. Bad faith is when one turns a blind eye to the truth because it is easier to be ignorant. In this case, a lot of people turn a blind eye to the cruelties of slavery because it is easier than changing a society’s entire perspective on race and power. And just to really get to the heart of bad faith, another example is when we choose to ignore the fact that our clothes were made by the hands of child laborers because it is easier than making our own clothes.

Now with that tangent out of the way, let’s get back to Pap Finn. I say that he isn’t participating in bad faith because one, he does not benefit from slavery, and two, he is openly racist and desires that slaves continue to suffer. He has a need for someone to be constantly beneath him in most cases it’s Huckleberry, but in the societal cases, it’s black people. He is the lowest of the low, but at least he isn’t black. That’s why he’s so distraught when he hears about a Black man being able to vote because it means that he is truly at the absolute bottom of the societal ladder. He does not practice bad faith because he is not a participant in the system. He doesn’t even vote. So, even though he is the worst person alive, he still isn’t the main problem with racism and slavery. The problem lies within the people who are wealthy enough to own slaves and have the education to know that it is wrong but choose to anyways because it is easier than not owning slaves. 

Twain often criticized people of a wealthy class. He made fun of them in the Lyceum circuit, and he satirizes them all the time in his works, (Huck Finn, the golden age, Puddn’head Wilson, etc.), but this poor demographic of white people that he has presented his audience with is so easy to fall back on as the villain of the story that it creates this very clever misdirection. There is an aversion of attention to the point that the audience practices bad faith when reading Huck Finn. Pap Finn is our villain, but Twain’s villain is every person who has ever tried to get Huckleberry Finn to agree with the sentiment that Black people are beneath him.

[dumbcowboahs]

Rdr2 Fic Prompts List

-Arthur takes John to the local town because John mentions needing a christmas gift for someone special and dear to him and Arthur assuing it’s Abigail and knowing how useless John is, insists on helping. John becomes more and more confused and distressed when Arthur keeps showing him dressses and jewlery when all he wanted was to buy a preset for his horse. -Javier spikes the stew with chillis for shits and giggles and everyone is immediatly dying and trying to chug any liquid they can get their hands on, except for Sean, who eats the whole bowl without flinching. Javier is convinced he must have super human tollerance and has a whole new respect for him but actually Sean had just tried to prank the stew with lemon juice himself half an hour beforehand so had portioned off a non-contaminated bowl for himself. -Arthur goes out to do his thing and disapears for a few weeks, Dutch sends Bill out to find him but Bill doesn’t feel like it so tells everyone he died. The camp mourns and Arthur comes back three days later very confused to find a gravestone close by with his name on it. -Hosea takes Lenny out to teach him to hunt. It goes well up until they both end up getting sprayed by a skunk. No amount of bathing seems to get rid of the stench and no-one in camp will come anywhere near them. The entire camp reaks and everyone wants to d i e. Miss Grimshaw ends up filling an entire tin bathtub with tomato juice to make them bathe in. Unfortunatly the camp gets attacked half way through and they have to fight their way out, naked and covered in tomatoes. -John is struggling to deal with parenthood and doesn’t feel comfortable opening up about his stress to anyone in camp so starts going to the local town to take delux baths like three times a day so he can rant about his problems to the confused woman. No one has ever seen John so clean. -Someone makes a comment about Hosea being more useful than Dutch because he kows about hunting and forraging and it pisses Dutch off so he decides to prove them wrong and goes hunting. He doesn’t catch a single thing but brings back a whole bag of mushrooms he finds and proudly gets Pearson to cook them into the stew. The entire camp proceeds to have a shroom trip from hell because they were fuckin’ psychedelic. -Charles wakes Arthur in the middle of the night, stoicly calm but clearly deeply concerned, asking him to help hide a body. He accidently shot Micha with an arrow while hunting and doesn’t want Dutch to throw a fit thinking it’s an act of mutany. They ride all the way out to the swamps to feed him to the Gators. He wakes up on the way there because it turns out he didn’t die from the wound, but they both pretend not to hear him. -An angry badger wanders into camp and won’t leave, it keeps terrorising everyone; stealing food, biting and hissing at people, spooking the ladies. Arthur is tasked to get rid of it because he is tasked with everything, he tries to do it without shooting it but it bites him a bunch of times and nearly mauls him so he ends up killing it anyway. The next day, the camp is overrun with angry badgers looking for vegence. They eat Dutch’s shoes and he cries. -One morning Arthur wakes up and puts on his hat and it’s full of spiders. Assuming it’s John playing a bastard prank, he shoves a snake in John’s boot. John, assuming it’s Sean being a drunk dick, pisses in his beer bottle, Sean think’s Lenny is messing with him so rubs his underwear in poison ivy, Lenny thinks Bill is trying to piss him off so sticks raw fish in his pillow case. This continues for weeks and every single person in the camp ends uptrying to get revenge on everyone else like some silent prank war. Arthur’s hat was only full of spiders because Jack had been bug collecting and needed something to put them in.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr #red dead redemption #rdo #arthur morgan #john marston #dutch van der linde #van der linde gang #hosea mathews #lenny summers #charles smith #javier escuella #jack marston #bill williamson #sean macguire #fanfiction #ao3 #fic prompts #prompts #crack #funny #meme #writing #red dead #cowboys #stories #concepts

[everlarkficexchange]

Operation: BREAD (Bring Revenge on Everdeen to Avenge Dad)

Written by: @alliswell21

Prompt 23: Rumor: MrEverdeen crossed fence dividing Town and Seam, kidnapped Mrs Everdeen making her his common law wife. Years later, Mellark sons plan to avenge their father by raiding Seam and kidnapping one of Everdeen’s daughters for one of them to take as a wife! Does Katniss “volunteer,” does she escape, how do the 3 brothers decide what to do with her since they didn’t plan it all out well? [submitted by @567inpanem]

Rated: T for now, for language.

Author’s Note: So, I resigned myself that this prompt won’t be completed by the new dateline of May 10th, because believe it not, quarantining with the husband and children at home makes for a very busy day… everyday. I haven’t been able to write anything for days at a time, and everytime I come back, I reread what I’ve written so far, and find faults that need fixing and what I hoped to be a short story is turning into a long one shot because I’m incapable of keep things simple… and now I’m ranting about everything instead of thanking everyone— from the EFE administrators, to @567inpanem for the prompt, and y’all dear readers— and wishing all moms a happy Mother’s Day, even if you celebrate it on a different date in your country… and I a belated happy birthday to Katniss Everdeen and Also a happy Mother’s Day to her, because she deserves it… anywho…

Here’s is the very first part of this story, that can’t make up its mind on what it wants to be (it’s leaning into romcom territory right now), I’ll post all my submissions soonish (hopefully finished), and I apologize for any formatting defects since I’m posting from my cell phone, otherwise I’ll forget to post it at all.

Sorry this is messy! I love y’all! Stay healthy.

————

“Quiet, you morons!” Bannock… whispers?

Is that the right descriptor for the harsh, low sounds that comes from his mouth? I’m not quite sure, but I look at him sheepishly, since I was the one to trip on air this time around and nearly knock down a clothesline, poles and all.

“S-sorry…” I stutter drunkenly.

Rye shrugs, uncaring. Asshole!

Bannock glares at us with his bloodshot, angry blue eyes before turning around and creeping forward.

It’s a chilly night out, with no stars and just a sliver of moon casting minimal light over us, ideal to maraud and raid… if we lived any place else, that is.

If we were to find ourselves face to face with the flashlight of a Peacekeeper patrolling the streets, things could go anywhere from awkward to deadly, and I really hope we don’t have to find out how it’ll truly go. We’re wasted, outside our house after curfew, and facing our mother’s wrath would probably be as terrible as any punishment the peacekeepers would inflict on us.

The later option has me swallowing thickly.

I’m no coward by any stretch of the word… but I do enjoy being alive, so… yeah.

“Don’t mess around, no more!” Bannock chides.

As soon as Bann turns around, Rye mouths his words back, mockingly, and I wonder— not for the first time— how can my brothers be so immature? Bannock just turned 25, while Rye has the mind of a 13 year old trapped in the muscular body of a 24 year old man; leaving sweet, little me, the 21 year old baby sibling, to bring the rear.

Rye burps, mostly quietly, earning another warning glare from Bann. All things considered, I’m a little impressed at how stealthily we’ve been moving so far, being as enebriated as we are and all. But who knows? Maybe we really aren’t as slick as my alcohol soaked brain thinks we are, and I’m just too skunked to know any better.

“D’you think we’ll be back before father wakes to take care of the ovens?” Rye slurs a little, squinting his eyes at a cat trotting across the alley in front of him. A second later he’s frowning down at the cat, shushing it obnoxiously, as if it’s soft paws are the ones making the stopping sounds coming from his own boots.

Bannock shrugs, “Who cares!”

I’m about to raise my hand and respond that I do, I care, but Rye starts laughing like an idiot, already distracted by something else. We turn to catch him picking up a stick and throwing it at the poor, unsuspecting cat. As soon as the stick hits it’s side, the animal loses its balance, making it fall into a trash can, with a terrified cry.

It’s awful. And loud.

“Knock it off!” Bannock growls as quietly as he can. “You’re gonna wake up the whole town, asshole!”

The cat meows indignantly, climbing out of the trash. He jumps to the other side and it’s gone in the next moment.

I sigh, rubbing one hand over my face. “Guys, I think we should go back. I don’t think Father will approve of this.”

“Shut up, Peeta!”

“Yeah! Shut it, runt!”

I grunt in aggravation under my breath. “I’m serious. We shouldn’t be out here… at all!” I insist.

“Why did you come then?” Bann hisses.

“You dragged me out with you, jackass!” I counter, pointedly. Plus, I’m the least drunk out of the three of us, and I figured I should keep an eye on them two, make sure they don’t get hurt in this idiotic quest… but I don’t say that out aloud. “I still don’t understand why, are we stumbling across town in the middle of the night, risking getting caught outside after curfew.”

“You know why, Peeta! We’ve gone over it to death,” snaps Bann, twisting his whole body to face me and almost walking into a potted plant sitting by somebody’s back door. “Father doesn’t know how to take care of himself, let alone how to defend his honor!”

“Our hands have been forced, runt. We need to pick up the slack, that’s why!”

I roll my eyes at my brothers.

It’s true though. For the last 26 years, our father has been both the butt of every joke said in the streets of district 12, and the victim of a tragic cautionary tale, people somehow feel the sadistic inclination to bring up to us, Mellark boys, as if we needed the reminder.

“Geez… save it for Everdeen, Bann. Let the runt keep his head instead of chewing it off him!”

Bannock frowns. It’s not everyday Rye comes to my defense, which means he really must be hammered.

Cool! I love brotherly affection… even if given under the influence.

“Whatever.” Bannock mutters under his breath. “We’re here anyway.” He signals to the fence dividing our district into two unequal sections: the merchant quarter, where we live, and the Seam (our destination), the largest— yet poorest— side of 12.

It’s unclear why the government erected the fence running right through the district in the first place, but the effect of having a literal barrier separating everyone in our small district, couldn’t be any clearer: we have a huge social divide amongst our people, very distinct and hard to overcome. Both sides distrusting the other, despite there never being a tangible reason why.

Personally, I think the most logical explanation for the creation of the internal fence, was just sheer desire to create hostility and antagonism between the citizens of 12… maybe it’s easier for the Capitol’s long arm to control a podunk place like here, when there’s an unbridgeable social chasm between our own denizens; how can we band together to demand better treatment and fair representation from the mighty Capitol, when we’re fighting with each other?

Of course, I keep my opinion to myself, because speaking of such things is just a sure way to find oneself in prison, facing charges of public agitation and whatnot.

Bann cuts through my musings, “Alright… let’s find a spot to cross over.” He says determined and still very intoxicated.

The worst kept secret in District 12, is how some sections of the fence are too close to the houses in the merchant side. If one really wants to cross into the other side over the fence, one only needs to look for a low wall adjacent to the top links of the fence to climb on, and after that, it’s all a matter of gravity pulling you down. Its been done before too…

Everyone speculates that’s what happened the day our father fell into disgrace: A man from the Seam found a weak spot to exploit… and the rest is history. Never mind the fact that jumping the fence is a common enough hooligan deed; how else can teenage couples reach the Slag Heap at the edge of the old coal mines to engage in their secret affairs?

It only takes us a few minutes to find a brick wall circling the backyard of a random house, just two feet shy of the fence.

We climb it with all the grace of a pig crawling up a greased pole, but after much huffing and puffing, we manage— with great effort— to drag ourselves over the barrier. We’re sweating and swearing, but who could blame us for that? We Mellark boys are just too broad and heavy with muscle, add to the mix the fact that we’ve drank our body weight in white liquor right before Bann had the brilliant idea of dragging us out here, and you have an uncoordinated— mostly clumsy— sad excuse, trio of vandals.

Rye goes first, then I go; finally, Bannock splatters down like a bullfrog, falling on his ass. He’s disgruntled and I suspect in dire need of a nap.

“Come on!” He commands, dusting his behind sloppily.

We’ve been walking aimlessly through unfamiliar dirt roads and dark unpaved alleys. The place is littered with produce crates set upside down in neat circles every other road… I vaguely wonder if that’s what passes as a socializing hot spot here in the Seam, like the square with its concrete benches is for us in town?

Sometimes I forget how things can be so shitty on this side of the District. It makes my stomach twist unpleasantly with guilt, realizing I take certain privileges for granted.

About five minutes into our stupid intrusion into Seam territory, Rye speaks up.

“Dude… do you know where they live?”

Bannock’s head snaps up, clearly annoyed. “How hard can it be to find the Seam’s apothecary?”

Very, actually.

First of all, The Seam consists of row after row of seemingly identical shacks, in varying states of shabbiness, arranged in a huge matrix of sorts. Each row is made of three to five houses with a slim road in between the next set of homes.

For what I gather in my limited liquor-addled brain, each horizontal row has a designated letter, and the vertical street goes by number. Other than that, there are no other distinguishing signs, telling us where we are or how to find the ‘Seam apothecary’ as Bann inarticulately dubbed it.

Rye groans in annoyance, seeming ready to overrule Bannock and call the whole thing off, himself; but my drunk ass is too stupid to keep my big mouth shut.

“They live close to the electric fence. Right before the meadow. They probably have a fence-in yard, too.”

I wince, regretting my words right away. I shouldn’t have said anything, but like an idiot, I couldn’t help spilling out the small bursts of information I’ve gathered over the years on the Everdeens.

I’m ashamed to admit it, but the Everdeens are a bit of an obsession to me… for all of us Mellarks, really. Given our entangled past with them, it shouldn’t be so much of a revelation, but this thing between our families has been a nuisance ever since I can remember and while my brothers and mother use it as a focal point of hatred and animosity. For me, is a curiosity driven thirst for knowledge on everything Everdeen. Anything that could shed light on our sordid past, I would gobble up, trying to answer why something that has virtually nothing to do with me and my brothers, still haunt us everywhere we go.

Rye frowns. “Fence-in yard?” He looks around the houses we are passing, realizing none of those have fences.

“Goat.” Bannock grunts, nodding thoughtfully. “Good catch, runt.”

“Huh?” Rye is scratching his head, confused.

“The blonde girl,” Bann says with mild irritation.

People from the Seam have a very specific look to them: dark— usually straight— hair, gray eyes, olive skin… ‘blonde’, blue eyed and pale, is more of a descriptor for people from the merchant class, like us… like Mrs. Everdeen.

The poor woman must stick out like a sore thumb in here; probably the same goes to her merchant-looking daughter, Primrose.

“What about the blonde?”

“She makes goat cheese.” Bann huffs as explanation, but since Rye still looks like the concept is too hard to fathom, Bannock grunts, expanding. “She trades the cheese in town. Mainly with Father. Which means, Everdeen has to keep at least one goat for the girl to have access to milk.”

“M’kay… goat, fences, meadow.” Rye lists clumsily on his fingers, following after Bann. “Got it!”

We quickened our steps in the direction of the electric fence. I’m still kicking myself for saying anything when we reach the last row of houses before the meadow.

I really hope I’m wrong about them having a goat, although I find it hard to believe Primrose steals milk from other people for her cheeses. She looks so sweet and innocent.

Alas, I’m too clever for my own good sometimes.

The very first house in the row at the edge of the meadow, has a pen connected to the house on the strip of backyard allotted to them. A tiny but sturdy shed stands against the back wall of the house, and if my eyes don’t deceive me, I can barely make out the snout of a goat, peeking out of the narrow opening of the shed.

“This is it!” Rye crows excitedly, rubbing his hands together and licking his chops like a hungry, humanoid wolf.

“Yeah. Finally!” Grunts Bann, “keep your voice down, doofus.” his reaction, both frenzied and anxious.

“Let’s do this!” Rye’s smile is deranged.

“Great!” I hiccup with fake enthusiasm. “What are we doing?” I deadpan, staring at my siblings with all the aggravation I can muster.

My brothers speak excitedly at the same time:

“Taking one of the girls back home with us!”/“Beating the shit out of Everdeen!”

My brothers look at each other, perplexed, and go, “”What?!” At the same time.

“Fuck!” I groan to the skies, noting its near dawn. “You better be joking! We came all the way out here, and you idiots didn’t plan what you were going to do once we arrived?”

“No… I mean, yes! No. it’s simple,” Slurs Rye trying to stare me in the eye and failing miserably, “We’re dragging Everdeen out here. Then, we’ll beat the snot out of the bastard, and have you doodle the whole thing out for Father… you’ll finally use that art talent of yours for something we’ll all enjoy… not just you,”

“No, no, no, no!” Snaps Bannock. “We’re taking one of Everdeen’s daughters, bring her back home with us, and avenge father.”

“What? Why?” Rye whines much too loud and even I shush him. “I thought we were just gonna jump the bastard and rearrange his face a little,” Rye sounds disappointed.

Bannock answers right away, sounding like our mother when she’s chiding us for some thing or another. “Dude… the guy stole Dad’s girl! You know what they say about repaying a slight with the same coin and all that shit. It stands to reason, the course of action here is to take one of the girls home with us, sleep with her, and get her pregnant or something, then she can’t come back to her daddy.”

I throw my hands up in the air, “That’s it! I’m out!” My brain practically short circuits with the outrageous shit my brothers are spewing out of their mouths.

Sure, beating the lights out of an unsuspecting man in front of his house in the middle of the night is already crazy, but Bann’s idea to take a girl away from her home, it’s beyond preposterous!

Instead of lashing out, I turn around and stalk away as fast as my legs can carry me. I’m still tipsy, so I stumble a little, but I’m determined to leave.

“Hey! Where are ya going?!”

I get grabbed by the bíceps and pulled back to ‘hide’ behind a scraggly bush overlooking the house we assume is Everdeen’s. My brothers push me down by the shoulders roughly, until I’m sitting on my ass.

“The hell is wrong with you two?” I snarl, trying to punch and kick either one of them.

“Shut up, runt! They’re gonna hear you!”

“Good! Then someone will call the Peacekeepers over.”

“Wha— No! Why would you want that?” Rye whines.

“I didn’t sign up for any of this crazy shit!” I spit enraged.

“Dude, you can’t bail on operation BREAD,” Rye scrunches up his face.

“Operation Bread? What in the hell, is operation Bread?” I wrench my arms free from them at last, glowering up at both.

“Bring Revenge on Everdeen to Avenge Dad!” Rye says proudly, a lopsided smile brightens his face, and all I want to do is punch his nose.

“You’re insane!” I sputter.

“No… I’m cle-ver!” Rye grins, tapping a finger to his temple.

“Come on, Peeta. You know this needs to be done!” Bann cuts in.

“No! It doesn’t!” I argue. I still feel woozy from alcohol though, so it’s costing me too much effort trying to get up. “This is just insane, Bannock! What you’re proposing is just… heinous!” I hiss.

Bannock’s face hardens, “Nobody will see it like that.” He assures, “An eye for an eye, baby brother.”

“So what? We’re gonna kidnap and rape an innocent girl in revenge, and you think that’ll fix anything? Will it bring peace? It’ll help you get Madelynn’s parents to back off and let her marry you?” I’m so pissed off, I’m pretty sure spittle is flying out of my mouth. “It won’t do anyone any good! Not us, nor father, and especially not Katniss or Primrose!”

“Shut the fuck up!” Bannock flies at me, and all I have to do is lift my arms to shield my head.

Rye is an equal opportunity asshole most of the time, but in this moment, he’s the one stopping Bannock from breaking my face in two, and I’m very grateful for my middle brother manhandling our eldest for me.

“Rape is a strong word, runt.” Rye gasps with the effort of keeping Bannock from kicking my ass. But if the wrinkling of his nose is any indication, I think maybe my words are chipping away some of his complicitness in this mess. “Maybe, what Bann meant, was, one of us will… you know… spend time with the girl, and then… make her his common law wife or something?” Rye looks at Bann expectantly.

Bannock nods. Rye lets go of him.

We all stay silent, breathing heavily for a moment.

“Same coin. Simple as that.”

If the stories are to be believed, Sorrel Everdeen crossed the fence dividing the merchant quarter and the seam, kidnapped my father’s betrothed— Lily— and made her his common law wife, despite being common knowledge, that the woman in question was engaged to our father since they were very young.

It’s an old rumor, really, with no real way to fact-check the events that led to this moment in time, but there’s always been some nasty whispering churning around town; tales varying in height and perjury, sometimes scandalous, others depraved, always with add-ons and full of conjectures flavored by the speaker in turn, but never the whole truth.

The worst thing is that the stories die down for a while when something juicer comes up, but then resurface, like a persistent oily stain on cement… It’s been 26 years since the real events leading to the Everdeens controversial marriage took place, yet the old gossip mill in District 12 has waxed over and rewritten the sordid story through the lense of judgemental people over and over again, until even our mother has started to repeat the outlandish tales, as if she wasn’t an active participant of the story herself.

Still… “I just can’t!” I say both exasperated and grossed out. “We should just go home—“

I get cut off when the door of the Everdeen house opens spilling faint candlelight into the almost blackened-out street.

My brothers rush to huddle around me, crowding on top of me like a pair of boulders… or worse: a pair of sweaty, heavy, alcohol doused men. Disgusting!

The door of the shack closes softly and to our shock, a very angry looking Katniss Everdeen stomps in the direction of the sad excuse for a bush we’re hiding in.

“Hmm… guys… I think she sees us.” I mumble calmly, yet terrified. Katniss Everdeen, eldest daughter of Sorrel and Lily, is coming our way with fire in her eyes.

TBC on AO3…

#Springtime Edition 2020 #alliswell21 #567inpanem #prompt 23 #submission

[rosedavid]

Merther prompt: Arthur ask Merlin who his ideal partner is. Merlin in an effort to hide his growing feelings from Arthur describes someone completely opposite Arthur. Shortly after someone arrives in Camelot hoping to become a Knight in Arthur's roundtable. This person is exactly as Merlin described and has immediately seem to set his cap at Merlin. Merlin doesn't know what to do especially when Arthur starts to act funny and won't explain why. Though everyone else seems to know the answer.

thank you so much for the prompt!! it ended up a little bit different, but I hope you still enjoy it!! :)

If you want to read it on ao3, here’s the link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23541073

…

Laughter echoes from around the campfire. The sun has long set, but nobody has any intent to fall asleep quite yet. Merlin relishes nights like these; nights free of bandits, evil sorcerers, or something other disaster that Merlin has to solve. Nights like these are few and far between, but when they do come, Merlin appreciates them. He appreciates joking with the knights as if he’s one of them. Around the campfire, after all the chores for the day are finished, he can just relax.

“No way,” Percival shakes his head. “That is not what happened!”

“As if you’d remember! You were as drunk as a skunk! As if you’d remember. Unlike you, I can hold my mead,” Gwaine retorts, puffing out his chest.

“I would never jump on a table and sing!”

“—And it broke, don’t forget the best part!”

Percival smirks, “But if this happened, then why didn’t the tavern workers make me pay my debts for the table?”

“Have you seen yourself?” Gwaine gestures with a wink. “Not only are you a stud, but you’re a big, intimidating stud. Plus, I think Mary has a crush on ya!”

At this, Arthur snorts, “Please, Mary has a crush on everyone. She even complimented Merlin of all people!”

“He’s just jealous because he thought Mary was complimenting him at first,” Merlin pipes up, earning a glare from Arthur as well as hearty laughs from the other knights.

“Ah, crushes are fickle things, my friends,” Gwaine grins, raising a flask he seemed to procure from thin air.

“I can attest to that,” Elyan agrees.

“Oh, do you have someone you fancy, Elyan?” Percival teases, punching his shoulder jokingly.

Elyan rolls his eyes, punching Percival back. “As a boy, I did. I thought she was the love of my life. But we just grew apart. What about you then, Percy?”

A deep blush spreads across Percival’s cheeks, shone only brighter by the light of the campfire. Everyone laughs. Gwaine and Leon push at him from either side, urging him to tell. He raises his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, fine. I might have a certain girl that I like…”

“Who is it, Perce?! Come on, you have to tell us now,” Gwaine begs, tugging his sleeve.

“No way!”

“At least describe her for us, mate!”

Percival gives in at that. “Okay fine! She has dark, thick hair that curls down to her shoulders. A soft smile. Deep brown eyes that you can get lost in. She’s funny, too, and shy.”

“It sounds to me like Percy is in love,” Lancelot grins. Percival blushes, but doesn’t deny it.

“How about the rest of you, then? Who do you like, Lance?”

“No one at the moment,” he says, honestly.

“Me either,” Leon admits. “My only lady is Camelot.”

“And what does Camelot look like, Leon?” Elyan teases.

“I mean, I’m not at all picky. Though I do like a girl who is kind-hearted and loyal.”

“Boo! Boring,” Gwaine sighs. Merlin, who sits between Gwaine and Arthur, suddenly gets squished into Gwaine’s side, Gwaine’s arm wrapped possessively around his shoulder.

“I like serving girls,” Gwaine proclaims boisterously. “Who have dark, beautiful hair and sparkling eyes, and are clumsy—”

“Gwaine!” Merlin groans, attempting to get out of his tight grasp. All the knights are laughing and cat calling.

“Okay, okay,” Gwaine yields, finally letting Merlin go. When Merlin finally has use of his limbs back, his eyes immediately go to Arthur for some reason. Although Arthur is smiling along with everyone else, his posture is tense, and his smile is tight. Before Merlin can think about it anymore, though, Gwaine directs his attention back to Merlin.

“Well? Don’t keep us hanging!” Gwaine says.

Oh. Merlin is expected to take his turn. This is a problem. He risks a quick glance at Arthur again, knowing that the heat forming from his cheeks isn’t due to the fire. The thing is, Merlin does have a crush, an extremely inconvenient crush. He hates how Arthur’s smile sends butterflies swarming through his stomach, how when Arthur touches him his heart rate speeds up. Over time, Merlin has gotten used to it. After all, nothing would ever come of it. Arthur would never fall someone like him, even if Merlin was noble.

Across the campfire, Lancelot sends him an apologetic look. For some reason, Lancelot ended up knowing not one, but both of Merlin’s biggest secrets. Although Merlin appreciates someone to rant to, he also can’t stand the looks of pity that Lancelot sends him. It’s embarrassing, mostly; Merlin feels ridiculous for even having a crush on Arthur in the first place, let alone someone else knowing. Still, Lancelot raves about his crush on Gwen in return, convinced that she’ll never reciprocate his feelings because her and Arthur are in love. Merlin has a feeling that even though Arthur might be in love with Gwen, Gwen doesn’t return his feelings in anything but a platonic manner. She only has eyes for Lancelot these days. Despite the obvious yearning looks between Lancelot and Gwen, Merlin doesn’t mention anything because Lancelot always certainly denies the obvious. Plus, it just makes Merlin feel worse about his situation.

He can’t risk Arthur finding out. This secret is second only to his magic. There’s no doubt that if any of the knights find out, the truth will come out to Arthur eventually, too. Merlin has to steer them off any trail connecting his crush to Arthur.

“Dark hair and eyes,” Merlin says, picturing the opposite of Arthur. “Sensitive, reserved, and always open about their feelings.”

Gwaine slaps him on the back, “You’ll find her someday, Merlin. I can be your wingman!”

Merlin smiles half-heartedly, still thinking of the person he really likes. He looks over toward Arthur again, only to find him standing up, grumbling about getting more firewood. There’s already a pile big enough to last them the rest of the night.

“Don’t mind him, he’s just a spoilsport,” Gwaine groans. “Princess needs to unwind a bit sometimes.”

“That’s the King you’re speaking of,” Leon reminds him, although there’s no bite behind it.

“I know you all agree!”

The bickering between the knights continue. Merlin smiles and laughs when prompted, saying minimal words the rest of the time. Lancelot notices odd mood, but knows better than to confront Merlin at that moment.

It’s only much later that Arthur finally returns, arms full of wood (it’s the completely wrong kind to keep a fire going, but Merlin doesn’t dare mention that). By that point, the knights are finally calming down. After dumping the sticks near the fire, Arthur turns toward his men.

“I’ll take first watch,” Arthur volunteers stiffly. “Leon, you can take second. We’ll head back to Camelot straight away tomorrow morning.”

Arthur seems different than normal, more stoic. He seems uncomfortable, too, especially when Merlin heads over to his side. Merlin worries that Arthur somehow picked up on his bluff. What if Arthur suspects his crush and is disgusted by it? Merlin really hopes that isn’t the case; he can’t risk jeopardizing the odd friendship they’ve built over the years for one stupid little crush.

“Are you sure you want to take watch? I can do it while you get some rest,” Merlin offers hesitantly.

Arthur purses his lips, silent for a moment before finally responding. “No, Merlin. Just go to sleep.”

No joking or mocking, just a simple statement. Merlin screwed things up so bad. He can only hope that tomorrow will be better. As Arthur stalks off to lean against a tree, Lancelot approaches Merlin. He pats Merlin on the back a few times with a comforting smile.

“Are you okay?” Lancelot asks quietly, as not to alert the others.

Merlin nods slightly. “Yeah, ‘course.” He says this not only to reassure Lancelot but also himself. Who cares if Arthur’s acting grumpy about this all? He’s probably just still caught up with his crush on Gwen and in a bad mood from the long day. Merlin’s not worried at all that his secret has been revealed and Arthur hates him. Things are fine.

…

The next morning proceeds like any other. Arthur orders Merlin around like usual, bickering with him and tossing insults back and forth. And Merlin is relieved. Things seem to be normal once more, and Merlin can deal with normal.

“Mer-lin! Could you be any lazier?! At this rate, we won’t get back to Camelot until nightfall,” Arthur proclaims, waiting with arms crossed as Merlin finishes packing the saddlebags.

“So sorry, my pratness,” Merlin grins. Having a pack thrown at his chest in retaliation has never felt better.

On the journey home, Lancelot trots his horse up beside Merlin, urging them to the back of the pack. “You and Arthur seem normal this morning.”

“I guess he was just in a bad mood last night, after all,” Merlin replies.

“You’re okay with things being normal again?”

“Normal is better than Arthur hating me.”

Lancelot pulls a face. “Merlin, I really don’t think Arthur could ever hate you.”

Merlin doesn’t know what to respond with, but luckily, he’s saved by their approach into Camelot. Arthur, having noticed that his manservant isn’t beside him, calls out for Merlin with annoyance. Merlin offers Lance a small smile for his efforts as a good friend before catching up with the King.

The next fortnight goes by with miraculously no complications. Arthur is busy with his duties as King and ordering Merlin around to do his chores. After coming back from the latest hunt, Merlin decided he would not get hung up with his crush on Arthur. It went well, at first. Merlin pushed out any type of thoughts relating to Arthur’s annoyingly brilliant smile, stupid blue eyes, or joyous laugh. He didn’t feel the tingling sensations when Arthur touched his arm or patted his back. Merlin definitely hasn’t been admiring Arthur’s sleeping body in the morning before he wakes, so soft and relaxed, golden hair tousled along the pillow and skin gleaming under the crack of the sunlight from the curtains.

Damn it. Maybe this isn’t going to work as well as Merlin had hoped. In fact, it seems like Merlin just becomes more infatuated as the days go on!

Unbeknownst to him, there was a big change coming in the form of one Oliver Francis.

…

Recently, word of the Knights of the Roundtable has passed throughout the kingdom and beyond. For the last few months, more and more nobles and non-nobles alike have been traveling the distance to Camelot in order to train for a spot as one of Arthur’s prestigious knights. Many had trained and fought, and very few actually succeeded in becoming a full-fledged knight.

If you asked Merlin, he would say he has no clue what the big fuss about being a knight is. Of course, he believes in Camelot and Arthur and understands the attraction to the prospering kingdom. Never will Merlin understand, though, the fun of constantly sacrificing your life and hitting things with glorified sticks. Not to say he doesn’t appreciate the knights, but he can’t understand it. If Merlin had his choice, he wouldn’t have to use his magic in dangerous situations to constantly save Arthur’s backside. Merlin has no choice in the matter, though, destiny this, future of Albion that, but these prospective knights are willingly putting themselves in that spot. Merlin can’t believe it. And, naturally, Arthur disagrees.

“I don’t expect you to understand the extreme honor that comes with being a Knight of Camelot,” Arthur scoffs after Merlin’s tirade of the new bout of knight training today.

“I’m just saying that there are many other ways to serve Camelot than hitting things with sticks,” Merlin replies, handing Arthur his sword with a smirk.

“Like mucking out the stables?”

“Oh yes sire, mucking out the stables is truly one of the highest honors of Camelot. Perhaps you should have your new trainees do that, instead?”

Arthur laughs sharply. “Then who would protect Camelot? You, who can barely walk without stumbling over his own feet?”

Merlin goes to retort fruitlessly, but happens to trip over a chair leg in that very moment. His face reddens while Arthur grins cheekily. If only Arthur knew exactly how much Merlin does for him.

A knock sounds against Arthur’s chamber doors. “Sire, the trainees are about to arrive,” Leon calls from the other side of the door.

“Yeah, better finish up whatever you and Merlin and doing in there, Princess!” Gwaine says, before muttering “ouch”, probably from getting smacked from one of the other knights.

“I’ll meet you down there right away,” Arthur responds, sending a pointed look at Merlin. Arthur’s cheeks are dusted pink, but Merlin thinks nothing of it.

True to Arthur’s word, they make their way down to the training field a few moments later. The sun burns down hot, causing Merlin to start sweating as soon as he steps outside. He wonders how the practiced knights survive with their heavy chainmail in this kind of heat, let alone a bunch of trainees vying for a spot.

The potential newcomers are already lined up and ready to go in sets of chainmail, swords clutched in their grips. There’s only three of them this time, and as Merlin listens to them speak to Arthur, he ascertains that two of them are of noble blood, while the other was born a peasant. Although Merlin is trained in the art of sword fighting like the King, he’s picked up a few things from watching Arthur train his knights all of these years. He knows enough to tell that they all have potential. Borden, a tall, thick noble, is talented at defense, but not so much at offensive moves. The other noble who goes by Gavin is quick and light on his feet, but his strength leaves much to be desired. Lastly, there’s Oliver. His fighting styles are a bit unconventional, but he knows his stuff. He’s smart in his movements, too, as if every one has an exact purpose to them.

During a quick break from the sweltering heat, the trainees huddle under the shade of the tent and grab a cup of water from Merlin. Oliver is last in line, smiling politely up at Merlin.

“I can’t believe I’m in Camelot,” Oliver says with awe, one hand ruffling through his dark hair. “It seems unreal that I have the chance to be an actual knight.”

Merlin only realizes that Oliver is talking to him after looking around and seeing no one else near them. He then replies, “Camelot is great in many ways. I’m sure that you’ll enjoy your time here.”

“What’s your name, then?”

“Merlin,” he answers. “King Arthur’s manservant.”

“Nice to meet you. How is it working for the King?”

Merlin hums. For some reason, he feels like he shouldn’t be afraid to tell Oliver his real thoughts on the King. After all, Oliver isn’t a noble born. “He’s a prat.”

Oliver gapes for a moment before giggling. Merlin soon joins in, happy that he has a new potential friend. Arthur, having heard them from across the training grounds, eyes them suspiciously before stomping over. His blond hair is stuck to his head with sweat, yet he appears as energetic as ever.

“Please feel free to ignore Merlin,” Arthur says. “He’s an idiot.”

“It’s no problem at all, your highness,” Oliver responds. “Merlin’s company is much enjoyable.”

Arthur narrows his eyes as he inspects Oliver and Merlin. “If you’re certain. But I do have use of my manservant, Oliver, so if you’ll excuse me.”

With that, Arthur yanks at Merlin’s wrist, tugging him to the opposite end of the large tent. Merlin mouths an apology to Oliver before letting himself be pulled along.

“What was that about, clotpole?” Merlin asks.

“I can’t have you distracting my potential knights,” Arthur mutters, wiping his face with a towel. “Besides, I need a fresh towel.” He then throws his dirty towel at Merlin’s chest, making Merlin groan with disgust.

Arthur is about to head back to the training field, but before he does, he stops at Merlin’s side. He reaches up and, with a gentleness Merlin not thought possible, brushes the sweat laced hair strands of his eyes. Merlin’s eyes flutter shut for a moment, relishing in the soft touch. Then, as soon as it comes, it’s gone. Arthur brings his hand away, then says, “Get yourself some water, Merlin. I can’t have you fainting like a girl from dehydration.”

…

Things only continue to get stranger from there. As Arthur continues seeing if these potential knights have what it takes, Merlin notices that Arthur has started acting different than usual. Not only has Arthur been more aloof, but he’s also been especially hard on one of the trainees in particular: Oliver. At first, it wasn’t noticeable; the quick glares, the little bit harder he was ragged on after practice, but then it became apparent. Arthur seemed to only have eyes for making Oliver break under him. Of course, Arthur has never been cruel, but his distaste for Oliver is obvious to everyone, including Oliver himself.

About a week after coming to Camelot, Oliver finds Merlin in the castle halls carrying a large load of Arthur’s laundry to be washed.

“It’s good to see you,” Oliver greets, piling pieces of clothing that have fallen back onto the top of the wobbling basket.

Merlin smiles, “You too, Oliver. Is there something you need?” He guides the basket to the ground, needing a break before his back gives out, anyway.

Oliver sighs, “I suppose I was wondering…well, since you’re so close to King Arthur and all…do you think I have done something to offend him?”

“I have no reason to think that you offended him,” Merlin offers. “Nor do any of the others. We all enjoy your company and skills. Arthur can be difficult, sometimes, but I’m sure that he will get to know you better soon, and you two will become closer.”

Relieved, Oliver clasps a hand around Merlin’s shoulder, mirroring the position that Arthur has held with Merlin many times before. Of course, at that moment, Arthur himself comes rounding the corner to head toward his chambers.

“MERLIN!” Arthur shouts, voice echoing through the walls of the castle. Merlin turns to see Arthur standing just a few foot lengths away, glaring at the pair of them.

“You didn’t have to yell, prat, I’m right here,” Merlin complains. Arthur moves closer toward him, and Merlin prepares himself to be berated or get something thrown at him. Instead, he feels Arthur’s arm wrap around the very spot that Oliver’s was seconds ago, squeezing his shoulder tightly.

“Hello, sire,” Oliver says.

“Oliver,” Arthur acknowledges, nose up. “If you would spend more time training and less time fraternizing with my servant, then maybe you’d have a better chance of becoming a knight.”

Merlin feels just as stunned as Oliver appears. Merlin has never heard Arthur speak so brashly before, and to a knight in training nonetheless. Oliver casts his gaze downward respectfully, hands clasped in front of him like a servant. Suddenly, Merlin has a feeling he knows why Arthur dislikes Oliver so much, and he won’t stand for it.

Arthur leads Merlin back the short distance to Arthur’s chambers, not bothering to respond toward Merlin’s complaints about his laundry still being in the hallway. When they finally arrive, doors closing behind them, Merlin pulls himself away from Arthur’s arm, glaring at him.

“Okay, enough is enough. You’ve been a right prat toward Oliver ever since he arrived, and I know why.”

At this, Arthur pales considerably. “Y-you do?”

“Come on, Arthur, you really thought I wouldn’t figure it out?!”

Arthur purses his lips, feet shuffling. “Merlin—”

“How could you?”

“What do you mean how could I? I can’t help it!” Arthur protests, running his hand through his hair.

“That’s just an excuse, and a terrible one at that!”

“Is it really so wrong?”

Merlin gapes at him. “Yes! I-I though you were a better man than this, Arthur.”

“I—” words die in Arthur’s throat. He almost appears distraught, and Merlin has a sudden urge to comfort him. But Arthur needs to understand that what he did to Oliver was wrong.

“I thought we were friends!” Merlin continues to rant, beginning to pace back and forth. “I thought that after you knighted people like Lancelot who weren’t of noble blood, that you would have no bias toward someone from a non-royal background trying to become a knight, but obviously I was wrong! You’ve been treating Oliver terribly, and just because he’s not nobility.”

“What?” Arthur gasps, peeling off into laughter.

“This isn’t funny,” Merlin says as he grows angrier.

Arthur continues laughing, and Merlin can’t take it anymore. He turns to stomp out of the room. Before he can leave, though, a hand takes his wrist. Arthur’s laughter finally dies down as he wipes at his eyes.

“You’re so dense, Merlin.”

“Me, dense?!”

Arthur rolls his eyes. “Yes, you. I couldn’t care less about Oliver or anybody else’s background. They all deserve an equal chance to become knights.”

Merlin eyebrows scrunch up in confusion. “B-but, then why are you being so rude toward him?”

“God, Merlin, it’s because he’s your dream guy!”

Now, Merlin’s even more confused. “My dream guy?!”

“Yes,” Arthur nods seriously. “That knight in the forest a few weeks back, when we were all talking about our…ahem, crushes, and the type of person that you said you are into is Oliver to a tee.”

Arthur remembers that. Arthur remembers his description. Arthur is talking to him about crushes. Could this day get any worse?

“What does that have to do with any of this?” Merlin wonders, still not getting it.

Arthur groans in frustration, tugging on his hair so hard that Merlin worries he’ll yank it out. He then takes a few deep breaths to calm him down. “None of you ever asked me who my ideal date would be.”

“Wait a minute…” Merlin trails off, “Do you have a crush on Oliver?!”

“What, no!” Arthur groans again. “No, you daft idiot! I have a crush on you!”

Silence falls over the room. Merlin stares at Arthur, as if he’ll wake up from this dream any second. He stammers for words, but nothing comes out of his mouth. Over and over he replays Arthur’s words in his mind. I have a crush on you. I have a crush on you.

Arthur likes me.

“Y-you…you like me?” Merlin gasps. “How can you like me?”

“I wish I knew,” Arthur mutters, “But somehow you’ve managed to get under my skin like no one else. I…I was, a bit unfair—”

“—terribly rude—”

“—Okay, fine, I was rude to Oliver! But I couldn’t help it, Merlin. Every time I saw you two together, laughing and smiling and touching, it made a fire rage in my stomach. I couldn’t stand him looking at you like that.”

“Arthur…” Merlin says, stepping closer to him.

Arthur clears his throat, stepping backward. “But it’s nothing, it’s fine. I mean, I know you must have a crush on Oliver, as he’s exactly the person you described.”

“Now you’re the one being an idiot,” Merlin smiles, stepping toward him once more. This time, Arthur makes no move away. “I’ve been ridiculously in love with you for the longest time, Arthur.”

Arthur’s mouth drops. “But Oliver…”

Merlin blushes profusely. “Well, actually, he’s not really my type. I may have lied a bit at the campfire to conceal my true feelings. The type of person I want to date is actually much different.”

Arthur takes a step closer. “Oh?”

“The type of person I like is kind of a big prat,” Merlin continues. “A big prat with a heart of gold. Who’s brave, caring, and fights for justice. A person who infuriates me daily with his snide remarks but surprises me with his kindness.”

They’re so close now that Merlin can feel Arthurs breath mingling with his own. Merlin’s heart is beating out of his chest, waiting for Arthur to say something, anything. Finally, Arthur is opening his mouth to speak….

“Is it Gwaine?”

Merlin groans in frustration. “You have got to be—”

“I’m joking,” Arthur promises, reaching forward you cup his cheek. “Dollophead.”

“That’s my w—mmph!” Merlin starts, only to be cut off by the sweet press of Arthur’s chapped lips against his own. It tastes like sweat and is filled with desperation. Merlin clumsily fists his hands in Arthur’s shirt, bringing him as close as possible. He’s wanted this for so long that it doesn’t quite feel real.

They only pull apart when they absolutely have to, both panting for air. Even then, Merlin doesn’t let go of Arthur’s shirt. Meanwhile, Arthur’s hand traces it’s way down the side of Merlin’s face, a gentle caress. They drop their foreheads together, unable to hide their matching smiles.

“You’ll be nicer to Oliver now?” Merlin whispers.

Arthur chuckles as he strokes Merlin’s cheek. “I suppose. I do have him to thank for getting us to come to our senses, after all.”

“You mean for you to come to your senses.”

“Do you want to be sent to the stocks?”

“Mmh, you wouldn’t. You’d miss me to much,” Merlin hums, leaning to press a chaste kiss against Arthur’s lips.

Arthur hauls him back in.

“In your dreams.”

#merthur #merthur fanfic #merthur fic #merlin bbc #bbc merlin #merthur fanfiction #merlin emrys #arthur pendragon #lancelot #gwaine #leon #elyan #percival #fluff #fanfiction

[bokutokoutarou]

alex babe congrats on hitting 1k!!!!! u r on ur way to becoming the greatest showman with this litttt circus 🤪im rLY excited for ur match-up!!!so i’m here requesting one for myself if that’s aite 🥺 im 5’8 (giaNT), i play ultimate frisbee & netball. i change my hair colour tOO frequently and currently it’s purple 💜 big dick energy bcos of my height & im quite independent and alpha but actually im an emotional softie on the inside that cries at every lil thing 😩 (-con’t in pt2!) - 🥞anon

(con’t from pt1 of 🥞) -pronoun: she/her -mbti: fluctuates between enfp and infj (im always ~ 50/50 E/I) -always clowning myself (throwing away my cash, embarrassing drunk stories, getting my nose punched during moshing, shattering my phone screen bcos a volleyball landed on it....) even tho i look unapproachable with my rbf 🤡 -im majoring in political science right now so tbh i like to analyze every little thing and im a nerd for history 🥺 tq so much for doing this!!!!i luuuuv u💛💛 -🥞 ((((omg im so sorry but can i ramble a little bit more🥺🥺))) -i’ve been getting tattoos every yr since 18 and now i have 6 over 3 years (my attitude towards it changed from “it must be meaningful” to “whateverz it’s just cute” HHAHHAH) -i do tarot cards!! im quite an intuitive person and it’s a good practice that allows me to reflect -so yeap im a mess of everything, a typical aquarius HAHAHHA astrohoe -🥞 anon who is v sorry for being an annoying lil shit who spammed u with 3 paragraphs 😭😭

omg u are such a clown and ILYSM for it 🥞 anon!!! i’m so glad ur apart of my circus🤡🎪

your first mini matchup is...

BOKUTO KOUTAROU

AHSHSHHSHS THIS IS LEGIT THE BIGGEST COMPLIMENT EVER I LOVE THIS MAN SO MUCH

bokuto’s so forward and outgoing that the fact that u have a rbf does not deter him at all from trying to befriend u

it legit didn’t take long for u two to get together bc u guys are a clown match made in heaven and that’s a fact

u two both look tough on the outside but are emotional softies deep down, so when one of u goes into an emo mode, the other one does too and it’s a MESS

r.i.p akaashi bc u two are a whole circus and his life is gonna get a hell of a lot harder oops

bokuto would totally be ur partner in crime, and u would both clown urselves TOGETHER

just imagine the crackheadedness, the complete clownery of ur two braincells combined...i stg u and bokuto would be a combined disaster and I ENVY IT

okay so pls PLS play frisbee with him bc he’d love it so much!!

he’d kinda be trash at it tho bc he’d get too hyper when the frisbee would get close to him (but don’t tell him that or he’ll go into emo mode lmao)

he’d highkey think ur tattoos look so cool, and he’d be inspired to get some bc of u (u’d have to recommend the place to him tho bc he went to one once w/o telling u and he had to get a coverup bc it was a mess oops)

since u dye ur hair frequently, u’d totally try to mimic his hairstyle by dying ur hair all black and having it fade to a nice silver, but u’d clown urself bc the hairdresser would mess it up and make u look like a skunk agbzhshsh

but hey, that’s another story to tell. and expect many more bc with bokuto, there’s always something disasterous and fun waiting to happen

ur second mini matchup is...

LEV HAIBA

an ICONIC TALL COUPLE

okay but fr fr, even if i didn’t see ur height i still would have put u with him because the clownery in this relationship is a whole VIBE

lev would lowkey highkey be intimidated by ur rbf at first, but one day he straight up approached u and started a convo about how cool ur hair was

babie was SHOCKED when he found out that u were a clown just like him, so definitely expect some more clownery now that he’s in ur life

you’d highkey dare him to try and get into a baby swing and he’d actually fit bc he’s so skinny, but he wouldn’t be able to get out so you’d have to call emergency services to help him ahsjsjsjsjsj

ngl, he’d actually be really good at ultimate frisbee bc his arms are long af and he’d be able to reach it in the air easily, and he’d totally drag u to the park to play it with him

kenma wouldn’t be intimidated by ur rbf at all, so he’d totally diss lev by saying:

“congrats — ur better at ur girlfriend’s sport than ur own”

also, everyone in the school refers to u both as the “tall couple” even though ur not even remotely as tall as him

if u ever rant to lev about political science or history, he won’t understand a single word ur saying bc he has zero braincells left, but he’ll just nod along and listen to u bc he thinks it’s adorable when u ramble about it

pls give him a tarot reading omg! he’d highkey be so into it and u’d totally get him into astrology

don’t make him give u a reading tho. i stg he’d clown it up so badly and predict some whack end of the world shit lmaooo

u two would be so fun and chaotic, but also so soft for each other and it’d be cutest thing ever aaah!

sidenote: i saw ur third ask late so i added hcs about them now!

#🥞 anon #alex plays cupid #1000 follower special

[thisisthepartwhereyou]

BEASTARS MINI-STORY #3: “The Pitfalls of Thin Walls pt. 3” by JCL

We're back in Sebun's apartment. Raika looks surprised and bewildered. RAIKA: "Wow, I didn't see that coming!" Ebisu on the other hand looks a little shocked. EBISU: "How can they talk about having kids? They're basically kids themselves!" ZAGUAN: "You think Haru is pregnant with his baby?" Eugen shakes his head at this notion. EUGEN: "The way young people carry on these days, I wouldn't be surprised." Bogue on the other hand nods and looks intrigued as he continues to take notes. BOGUE: "I can see it right now: The hidden condo full of playful little wolf-rabbits. Little... I dunno, what would be the therm, 'wunnies?'" -- Haru begins to cheerfully rant while Legosi looks weirded out. HARU: "There's so many pretty flower names for girls you know. *HIC!*" LEGOSI: (She's not poisoned.. She's DEAD-DRUNK!) HARU: "Rose, Hyacinth, Violet, Daisy, Jasmine, Lily... The list goes on!" Legosi tries to inernally calculate how this could've happened. LEGOSI: (But HOW?! I mean I had some sake in the soba, the way grandad always makes it, but...) Haru begins to pout and begins to scratch her chin in a pondering manner. HARU: "Not a lot of names for boys though, that might be a problem... Hazel? Nah, that's such a typical rabbit name..." LEGOSI: (Wait a minute...!) He grabs Haru by the shoulders in order to gain her full attention. LEGOSI: "Haru, focus. If I poured 1,5 dl of sake into the kind of small cups you have at your family's house, how many cups would I fill?" Haru looks confused; warped scribbles of matemathical equations and numbers holding martiniglasses dance around her head. HARU: "... How many?" She then laughs and gives Legosi a playful slap on the arm. HARU: "SILLY! I can't drink that much! I get tipsy from just one cup, six would just slay me!" Legosi looks horrified. -- Fina facepalms. FINA: "Ooooooh now I see what is going on. You can have liquor in yakisoba right?" The rest of the guys look confused. MUGI: "Yeah?" FINA: "I think that Legosi has made a classic mistake that can sometimes happen when you cook a meal for a smaller animal: He didn't take their different size proportions into consideration." The other guys still look confused. EBISU: "I don't get it." FINA: "It's simple: Lets say he made a meal with proportions adapted for a larger animal like himself, with alcohol." Explanatory illustrations pop up behind Fina as she details what she means. We see a chibi-version of Legosi standing next to a stove, pouring the contents of a flask of sake into a wok containing yakisoba. FINA: "Within those proportions, that amount would have virtually no effect on him." Chibi-Legosi proceeds to eat from a bowl of the same yakisoba. He seems completely unaffected. FINA: "But give it to an animal who has a smaller body to process it, that amount might just be much more potent, and make-" We then go over to a Chibi-Haru who eats from the same kind of bowl. She seems unaffected at first. BOGUE: "That poor little bunny more drunk than a skunk on junk outta some trunk!" Chibi-Haru turns red, puts the bowl on her head and starts to dance drunkedly back and forth. We cut back from this illustration and return to the gang in Sebun's apartment. Zaguan shakes his head sympathetically. ZAGUAN: "Poor Haru, poor Legosi. What bad luck!" -- We're back in Legosi's apartment. Legosi looks incredibly guilty, while Haru looks a little stunned. LEGOSI: "I am so sorry Haru! I didn't mean for this to happen!" HARU: "Oh... So that's why I feel strange..." Then she points and laughs at Legosi. HARU: "Haha, you idiot!" Legosi doesn't seem offended though; just sort of relieved that Haru seems to take this in stride for now. LEGOSI: "Don't worry about it, I'll fix this somehow...!" He gets up in a panic, unsure of what to do. He freezes though as he suddenly hears a voice coming through the wall. EBISU: "Make her some coffee!" -- The gang in Sebun's apartment stares daggers at Ebisu, who is holding down his beak, having realized that he thought WAY too loud just now. Fina hisses at him under her breath. FINA: "Idiot...!" Ebisu looks panicked, but then he suddenly spots a coffee jar on a nearby table with the brand Walker's Instant Coffe printed on the side and gets an idea. EBISU: "W-Walker's Instant Coffee, the brew for every couple!" He then proceeds to sing like it's all part of a commercial jingle, set to the tune of "The Wheels on the Bus Go Round and Round". EBISU: "Dun-dun-dun, just make her some! Dun-dun-dun, just make her some... He gives the others an imploring look. They get what he's trying to do and joins up in his singing. EVERYONE: "Dun-dun-dun, JUST MAKE HER SOME!" -- Legosi hits his fist in his open hand, completely buying into that it was just a commercial playing next door. LEGOSI: "Coffee, that's a good idea!" He turns around and goes over to the sink, where he grabs a percolator. He opens it and proceeds to fill it with water from the tap. LEGOSI: (And I who thought this kind of stuff only happened in mangas or bad fanfics...!) He suddenly gets a shocked expression though. He turns his head back and looks down to see that Haru has walked over and grabbed his tail. She is proceeding to snuggle with it like it was a stuffed animal. HARU: "I've wanted to touch your tail for the longest time! Heeee it's so warm and fluffy! It's like a steering wheel cover in the winter!" Legosi gives Haru an imploring look. LEGOSI: "Haru... Could you please not touch my tail?" Haru looks up at Legosi in drunken confusion. HARU: "Why? Is there poop on it?" LEGOSI: "NO... Because it is making me a little uncomfortable." HARU: "Oh... Okay." Haru lets go of his tail, looking a bit dissapointed, while Legosi breathes out in relief. LEGOSI: "Phew... HUA!" Legosi looks shocked yet again. It turns out that Haru's attention has moved away from his tail and onto the second best THING. Though we don't see exactly what she grabs, as she is off screen. HARU: "I've wanted have my hands on THIS for the longest time too...!" Legosi looks like he wants to die. LEGOSI: (I AM IN A HELL OF MY OWN MAKING) -- Fina has a little blush on her face. FINA: "I suspect her hands found something else to fondle..!" Zaguan looks a little uncomfortable. ZAGUAN: "Maybe this is getting a little too private?" Bogue on the other hand seem to writing things down in a notebook. BOGUE: "Maybe, but you can't deny it's total gold!" -- Legosi is now carrying Haru in his arms towards his mattress, while she sings a tonedead rendition of Whitney Houston's "I Will Always Love You". HARU: "And aaaaah-ah-ha-ha *HIC!* Will alwaaaaays love uuuuuu-" Legosi looks anything but enthused by Haru's musical aspirations. LEGOSI: "Haru please... My neighbors will hear you...!" At this, a text bubble with a large sweatdrop spawns from the wall behind them, illustrating the neighbor's sense of irony. Legosi proceeds to put Haru down as carefully as possible. He leans down and gives her an assuring smile. LEGOSI: "Just lie down here for a while. You'll be back to normal in no time." He's about to rise up, but Haru grabs him by his t-shirt. HARU: "Hey... " LEGOSI: "Hm?" She has a come-hither sort look in her eyes. HARU: "... You're not gonna leave just yet, are you?" LEGOSI: "I, um, well...!" HARU: "There's a pretty girl lying underneath you, intoxicated and vulnerable... It hasn't crossed your mind, has it? *HIC!*" LEGOSI: "Wha-wha-what are we talking about?" Haru raises her other hand and proceeds to caress Legosi's cheek. HARU: "To take advantage of the situation. Full and complete, ADVANTAGE." Haru speaks the last of this line with such a low voice, that it is obvious to everyone except the completely stone-deaf that it is an invite. -- Most of the gang in Sebun's apartment has gone red in the face, the exception being Raika and Zaguan, who looks relatively calm. Fina begins to speak in a nervous and high-pitched voice. FINA: "Oo-ho-ho-ho-kay, maybe we should stop listening now!" Raika waves this away though. RAIKA: "It'll be fine, we all know Legosi. He's too much of a gentleman." Zaguan nods at this. ZAGUAN: "Agreed. He would never do something so clearly amoral." -- Legosi grabs Haru's hand and gently (but firmly) removes it from his cheek. LEGOSI: "You´re drunk Haru, of course I wouldn't!" -- Raika smiles and points at the wall. RAIKA: "See? He's a regular Gregory Peck!" The others look a bit relieved. -- Haru suddenly sits up and looks Legosi straight in the eye, a sudden sharpness appearing in her gaze. HARU: "What if I said I'm not as drunk as you think, and I'd like you to?" RAIKA: "OH HOT DIGGEDY DAMN!" Both Legosi and Haru turn their heads to look at the wall. The sudden outcry is then followed by a loud acapella-styled jingle. EVERYONE: "DUN-DUN-DUN! JUST MAKE HER SOME!" HARU: "What the hell?" Legosi's large, muscular arm moves past Haru's face. She looks up, and Legosi appears to be leaning in to kiss her. Haru swallows, thinking that Legosi is about to accept her invitation. But then we see that Legosi was merely reaching for the pillow next to his mattress, which he places behind Haru. He sits back and gives her mature look. LEGOSI: "I'd say you're still drunk, and it would still be wrong." He then grabs her with both hands and pulls her back, putting her head down against the pillow with a gentle, yet strict, care.   LEGOSI: "Now lie back, while I make you some coffee." He stands up and walks back to the sink. Haru looks a bit annoyed, kind of like a kid that has been sent to bed early because she wouldn't eat hear vegetables. HARU: "... Fine." -- The gang in Sebun's apartment looks relieved beyond belief, almost collapsing from the whole ordeal. RAIKA: "The force is strong in that one..." -- TEXT: LATER, AND ABOUT 5 MINUTES BEFORE SEBUN COMES HOME. Haru and Legosi are now sitting next to each other on the mattress, both holding a cup of coffee in their hands. Haru is much more sober now and looks ashamed. HARU: "I am sorry." LEGOSI: "Don't be. It was my fault to begin with." HARU: "But I acted like a complete idiot... I fondled your naughty bits and asked you to take advantage of me...! God I must be so screwed up!" LEGOSI: "I... Think everyone does something they normally wouldn't do when they've had too much to drink. Or in your case, eat food filled with booze." Haru gives Legosi a sad look. HARU: "But I made you uncomfortable. I don't want to make you uncomfortable. Not when you're so nice to me... It's frustrating you know, cause it seems like I can't do anything for you. I just want to do something for you in return and I don't know what..." Legosi blinks. He puts a hand on Haru's shoulder. LEGOSI: "Haru... You know why we can't go too fast. Our instincts tell us one thing, and that is either to eat or get eaten, and we don't want either to happen." HARU: "I know... But our heads and hearts, they want us to do nice things to each other, because that's what people do when they care about each other. I mean, you work so hard to make this work, and now you're making me dinner too? It just doesn't feel fair somehow... It's kind of like Christmas when you exchange gifts; you feel guilty when you don't have anything to give back." Legosi stares at Haru. She sighs, gets up and proceeds to pace back and forth. HARU: "I know it's stupid, but I just feel bad about not having given or sacrificed enough compared to you. I mean you dropped out of school, you're covered in scars, you work your butt off in a restuarant and get involved in all kinds of shady stuff, all for me. Meanwhile, I just keep going to school, I have a good relationship with my family, I don't have any problem with money and I'm not even bullied anymore! I mean be honest with me, doesn't any of that bother you?!" As she turns to Legosi with a frustrated expression, she suddenly trips over the carpet and almost falls over. Legosi reacts with lighting-fast reflexes and catches her. She looks up at him, and he gives her a serious look.   LEGOSI: "It doesn't bother me a bit. What kind of person would I be if I wished my girlfriend's life sucked? You make me feel good, just being you. Coming to visit me, letting me come to visit you and your family, talking to me, looking at me with no fear... You don't have to feel oblidged to sleep with me because I cooked you a meal. This isn't a third world country you know." Haru blinks, then gets a shy expression on her face. She looks away with a wobbly smile and begins to run her finger across Legosi's forearm. HARU: "Hey... Since when did you start to act so adult?" Legosi smiles in response. LEGOSI: "I'd say you're rubbing off on me, and I like it." -- We're back in Sebun's apartment, where the whole gang seems to be nearly moved to tears. Ebisu is rubbing some away as he speaks. EBISU: "That guy is my fricking hero...!" Bogue on the other hand is biting into his notebook with tears running down his cheeks. BOGUE: "I'll have to dedicate my next book to them. They are so inspirational!" Fina smiles with a proud look on her face. FINA: "Gregory Peck can throw something old over himself." All of them look up though as they hear the door opening. TEXT: SEBUN IS HOME -- Haru's ears suddenly flickers. She appears to have noticed something, and she moves her hand up to her nose. She sniffs it and then gives off an amused little giggle. HARU: "Nope, it's still here." LEGOSI: "What is?" HARU: "The smell. I think I was mistaken earlier. It wasn't the apartment. It's probably coming from you." Legosi looks embarassed. LEGOSI: "Oh..." Haru grabs his big hand with her two small ones, takes it to her face and presses her nose against his fingers. HARU: "Don't worry about it." She looks up, and her eyes meets with his. They got more tenderness in them than the entirety of "Love me tender." HARU: "I like your smell..." Legosi blushes heavily and swallows. LEGOSI: "..." (Her touch, her eyes, they're so full of warmth) He grabs both of her hands in his, and begins to lean down closer. Haru looks up. LEGOSI: "Haru..." HARU: "Hm?" She sees in his eyes that there's something Legosi wants; coincidentally, the same thing that she wants. Her eyes begin to glitter with anticipation. HARU: (Really? Now? Is he finally ready, so that we can... we can... finally ki-) She raises her head, he lowers his, they both ready their lips and are about to proceed when: SEBUN: "LIKE HELL YOU CAN!" The sudden, loud voice coming from next door startles them both. Especially Haru, who jumps up and grabs Legosi around the throat. Legosi on the other hand gets so surprised that he trips backwards to the kotetsu, which he violently crashes into.   -- Their screams and the violent crash is heard next door, turning into the exact same scene at the end of part 1. SEBUN: “… Did you say.. That Legosi was making her dinner?” -- We see the disastrous result of the crash in Legosi's apartment. He is sitting in the wok atop the collapsed kotatsu. Both he and Haru, who is lying atop of him, are covered head to toe in yakisoba. Legosi looks tired. LEGOSI: "You know what, maybe we'll just go out and eat next time." Haru looks like she's in a murderous state of mind. HARU: (I am gonna kill that woman next door...!) TO BE CONTINUED...

#the pitfalls of thin walls #legosi x haru #beastars #fanfiction #script style #sebun #zaguan #bogue #raika #fina #mugi #eugen #ebisu #part 3 #jcl

[drunkenskunk]

Welcome to another Drunk Skunk™ rant!

It is entirely possible that you have noticed: I love Warhammer 40k. At the same time, I hate Warhammer 40k... okay, hate is probably the wrong word, but let me explain.

40k is one of my favorite sci-fi settings because it is, hilariously, one of the few that actually manages to get the scale of Outer Space right. Most sci-fi writers have no sense of scale, but 40k is somehow able to convey the unimaginable, incomprehensible, terrifying vastness of Outer Space correctly.

Granted, I think it does this entirely on accident, because everything in 40k is exaggerated beyond the point of absurdity. The scale of everything is massive, every number has several zeros tacked onto the end of it, travelling anywhere takes months, years, even decades, and... that's just how Outer Space is. You can't exaggerate on what is already functionally infinite.

As a result, 40k as a setting has an enormous amount of potential. No matter how much we see of the Warhammer galaxy, we will only ever see a bare fraction of it, and there is always going to be more - and stranger - stuff hidden in pockets of the galaxy that has slipped entirely beneath notice for decades, if not centuries. Or even millennia!

But here's the problem I have. All of this potential? It is almost always completely wasted by Games Workshop. Nearly every single time, GW ignores the massive amount of potential in the setting they created, in order to focus on boring shit that nobody cares about like even more fucking space marines. It's infuriating.

As far as I'm concerned, there is no better example of this in the entire setting... than the Tau Empire.

The Tau annoy me, but not for the reasons you think.

The most common complaint I see leveled against the Tau is that they are the "good" guys, and that they don't fit into the Grim Darkness of the Grim Dark far future of Grim Dark. This is untrue. Moreover: it was never true. Even when they were introduced in 2001 with their first codex during 3rd edition, they were not good guys.

I've always held the suspicion that people saw things like their catchphrase "The Greater Good" and they read things like "the Tau are not overtly hostile," and took all of that entirely at face value, because a sizeable chunk of this fucking fandom has no media literacy skills.

It still amazes me that Warhammer 40k - a game physically incapable of subtlety - has fans that miss the blatantly obvious.

Before I get to my main point, let's clear the air on something right now: the Tau are bad guys, just like all the other factions in 40k.

If you were to place the Tau in any other science fiction setting, they would be a terrifyingly evil authoritarian space hegemony, with a firmly held belief of "Manifest Destiny" and constantly expanding the borders of their imperial holdings through the use of dirty tricks, illegitimate treaties, and good old fashioned military adventurism spurred on by their vast military industrial complex.

Yes, the Tau typically engage in diplomacy first, but that's usually only to establish a casus belli to claim the moral high ground in a conflict because the Tau are obsessed with appearances and love to play the Long Game. Yes, the average standard of living in Tau space is higher than the Imperium, but that's not a high bar. The Tau have a rigidly enforced caste system, and you can imagine how they deal with their "client races" who might disagree with that and even other Tau who refuse to fall in line.

Or have we all forgotten about Commander Farsight?

... I feel like I may have gotten a bit off track.

Okay, so: the simple reason the Tau annoy me is because there was a whole lot of potential there, and all of it has been completely wasted because Games Workshop doesn't seem to understand what made them interesting in the first place.

See, when the Tau were introduced in 2001, it was quickly established in the first codex that the only reason they even managed to make it to the "present" of 40k was due to a series of accidents that allowed that particular scrap of nowhere to slip beneath everyone's notice.

But here's the thing: we didn't really need that excuse. Every time we see maps of Tau space, it's always zoomed in to such an extent that it looks much bigger than it is... because, unlike every other faction, you can't have a full map of the galaxy that only focuses on the Tau, because it's always just a pinprick.

My personal favorite of these maps is the one from the 5th edition rulebook, but it's common with all of them.

To put this into better perspective: Tau space is almost always described as a sphere about 300 light years in diameter, which is roughly the same size as "The Bubble," the cluster of human worlds centered around Sol, in Elite Dangerous.

And that, right there, is why the Tau should be interesting, at least to me. They represent what could exist in the hidden parts of the Warhammer galaxy that slips beneath everyone's notice because SPACE IS BIG. The Imperium of Man may technically cover the entire breadth of the Milky Way galaxy, and "hold" a million worlds... but there are 100 BILLION stars, and even more planets besides, in a galaxy that stretches 100 thousand light years from end to end.

That is A LOT of Outer Space that could hold any number of secrets and weird alien species that nobody would know about until somebody accidentally stumbles on them.

The Tau could have - should have - been a jumping off point, allowing Games Workshop to make the setting feel even bigger and far more strange than it already does. The Tau could've been the template for introducing "pocket empires" to the setting: smaller xenos armies that people could use in skirmishes, but without entertaining the illusion that they have the military projection power to stand up to the other factions on an appreciable strategic scale for an extended period of time.

And yet...

It fees like Games Workshop consistently misunderstands what should make the Tau interesting. Every new codex, every new edition, it feels like we get more and more of GW trying to be like "No, no! The Tau can definitely stand toe-to-toe with the Imperium of Man! They build tall rather than wide, and are ABSOLUTELY a threat to the Imperium, we promise!" when in reality the only reason the Tau are even still here is because the Imperium always has bigger problems to deal with.

There was the bit I mentioned earlier, where the Tau were initially saved after they discovered fire due to a mixture of freak warp storms and the Age of Apostasy causing the records to get lost. The Damocles Crusade ended in the Imperium's withdrawal because of the imminent arrival of Hive Fleet Behemoth. The Third Sphere Expansion was only successful because Failbbadon Abbadon launched the 13th Black Crusade at the same time on the other side of the galaxy, blew up Cadia, and split the galaxy in half with the Cicatrix Maledictum. Every single time the Tau do anything, a much bigger threat always shows up, and causes everyone to forget about the Tau until they inevitably go back to poking the monster.

Like, I know it's GW doing this, but sometimes it feels like Tzeentch is secretly pulling strings behind the scenes to specifically ensure the continued survival of the Tau, for no other reason than simply because the Changer of Ways thinks its funny.

And that's not even talking about how they've slowly morphed into The Gundam Faction.

Like, it used to be that the Tau Empire was supposed to be this big conglomeration of many different alien races all working together. And there are token mentions of that in the 9th edition codex, with a big list of names largely devoid of context. But as soon as you see these guys in action on the tabletop, it's immediately clear what they're about. You only ever see Tau, and you only ever see Big Robots.

Which... it's not bad, the model range looks great, don't get me wrong. But it still feels slightly disappointing, when you think about what we could have had.

I love Warhammer 40k.

But I also hate Warhammer 40k.

Because I see all this potential... and, inevitably, I see it squandered.

And it frustrates me to no end.

#Warhammer #warhammer 40k #warhammer 40000 #40k #wh 40k #Tau Empire #T'au #tau #Grim Dark #In the Grim Darkness of the Grim Dark far future of Grim Darkness there is only Grim Dark #Drunk Skunk Rant #wasted potential

[words-writ-in-starlight]

Maybe your missing alcohol rant is mine, in which case...1/2 you wanted rediculous opinions on alcohol, i have you. Champagne and red wine are both disgusting rotten grape juice. Tasting your alcohol is overrated and you should let me drink my 5 alcohols, tastes like sweetness and joy but will get me drunk as a skunk in 3 glasses, in peace. Beer is disgusting and I don't know why anyone drinks it, it either tastes like puke which has had resentment and hated played into it or

2/2 or someone pissed in a bottle, watered it 3/4 the way down and fermented it. Alcohol is there to get you drunk! Let me enjoy my fruity drink that will get me trashed! Stop asking me to drink shitty things because you think they make you more adult! I am 28 years old goddamn it and making me feel bad about my alcohol choices are not going to make me want to sleep with you! All that to say, fuck champagne

YES!!!! YES!  Beer and champagne both taste like rotten pointlessness, and maybe I’m just a tannin-sensitive bitch or something (coffee and I are Not Allies) but red wine is SO BAD, red wine is for COOKING BEEF and NOTHING ELSE, if you hand me a glass of red wine I am going to assume that you have made a horrible mistake and respond in the same way as if you had handed me an entire glass of soy sauce.

#alcohol #the completely arbitrary alcohol discourse #i am absolutely not joking when i say that i am more likely to drink an entire glass of vinegar than an entire glass of red wine #anyway listen for the gf's 21st birthday (lo several years ago now) we all went to dave and buster's #and i mention this because d&b's has a very good white wine sangria with like...SEVERAL shots of SEVERAL things in it #it tastes like nothing you could give it to a baby #someone came up to me to comment on me drinking a 'girl drink' while i was finishing my third sangria #and i asked him how many beers he'd had (three) #and then did the math for how many shots i'd had in three hours between all the sangria (twelve) #and apparently it was extremely satisfying to watch amiable easy-going cheery drunk!star put some dudebro in his place with one sentence #hey if i shell out for a cocktail from a real restaurant you better BELIEVE i made sure it was gonna get me drunk first #get off my back about it @society!!!! i'm never going to drink beer to look more like a bro #...anyway there's no greater power move than ordering neat gin at a bar and i often just drink straight liquor so as to save money #the respect i get from bartenders...it's intoxicating i'm not gonna lie #you can all absolutely go to hell with your 'ordering beer at a bar to seem tough' shit #Anonymous #asked and answered #story time with star

[re666less-pup]

Micah is a piss whore and we all know it~

It all started during one night of partying at camp, Beaumont waltzed over to a knocked out Micah and let a hot stream of piss soak Micah’s face and chest when the man was drunk as a skunk as he lay in his bedroll, Bill who was walking by started laughing hysterically at the scene. “Micah~.” Beau sang out loud, trying to get him to wake up, Beau started to point his exposed cock at Micah’s crotch. Soon the stream stopped but Micah was still out cold. “You’re no fun.” Beau grunts in disdain as he puts himself away and walks over to his tent to go lay down in his cot. “Wha-who the fuck pissed on me?!” Micah screamed when he finally woke up, soon stomping footsteps were heard approaching Beaumont’s tent, and angry and red-faced Micah stormed into the tent, “What the fuck is wrong with you?! pissing on me in the middle of the night? Is that entertainment for you?!” Micah ranted shuffling back and forth, “At least someone enjoyed it.” Beau said as he pointed to Micah’s crotch where a hard outline of a small cock was showing through prominently, Micah covers himself with his hands as his face turned beat red.

Beau licks his lips with a smile, “What did you do to me?” Micah said in a harsh whisper, “Nothing, I just pissed on you. But it seems like you’ve been fancying that for a while now, judging by how your little prick acts to being belittled and showered on with my piss.” Beaumont said darkly, getting up he grabs his gun belt and walked out of the tent. “W-Wait, you can’t just fuckin’ leave me here!” Micah called after Beau when he exited the tent as well, “Follow me then.” Beau threw behind his shoulder. Micah hurried after him and soon fell in step with the 6’6” man, “Where are we even going?” Micah said bitterly, “The lake, to play then to clean you up.” Beau replied scratching the side of his face. “P-Play?” Beau smirked at his response. When they reached the lake Beau instructed Micah to strip out of his clothes, “Can you look away?”

Beau scoffed, “No. Now, strip.” The man said in a stern voice, Micah blushed as he began to strip, the fact that Beau is forcing him to get out of his sticky clothes made Micah’s little dick stand up on its own. Beau smirked at how tiny the man’s dick was, “Nice pea shooter, Micah.” The man scratched the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed, “Stop making fun of me you, asshole.” Micah shot back as he pointed at him with a boney finger, Beau held his smile when he came closer to the man, “On your knees, Micah.” Beau commands, grabbing him by his dirty blonde hair and yanking him down to kneeling position. “Take my dick out.” Beau said to the man, Micah swallow nervously as he unzipped Beau’s pants to grab his hard cock and pull it out. Micah needed to hands to fully grab the man’s cock, even then the head was poking out still. “Now, open your mouth.” Micah did what he was told, opening his mouth a little, “Wider, boy.” Beaumont said as he stuck 2 fingers into the man’s mouth, prying it open even more.

“Just like that, Micah.” Beau crooned, letting a stream of warm piss fill Micah’s mouth, when it was full he made the decision to swallow large gulps of piss. “Mm, you look good like this, Micah. You should do this more often.” Beau said with a smile before he aimed his cock at Micah’s little prick, it stood at full attention as the dark shade of purple engulfed it. “You wanna cum don’t you?” Beau teases, “Y-Yes, let me cum, please.” Micah whined like a pathetic little slut, Beaumont stopped the stream before shoving his entire cock in Micah’s mouth, he chokes and coughs around the man’s cock. “There ya go. Take it, boy.” Beau grunts as he harshly throat fucked his new piss whore. The man came in an instant as soon as Beau’s cock went into his mouth, thin ropes of clear cum spill out of Micah’s little dick. He began to gag so much he threw up on Beau’s cock, “Fuckin’ whore.” Beau growled darkly, the man struck Micah across the face and shoved his mouth on his cock again. Making him gag again.

Micah threw up on himself once more when Beau’s cock stabbed his trachea, forcing Beau to pull his cock out again, “Fuck Beaumont, S-Stop.” Micah whines after spitting out the vomit that remained in his mouth, Beau flashes with anger not a second later, his grip in the man’s hair got tighter before he threw him into the shallow end of the lake, “Get cleaned up, you fuckin’ blue ballin’ whore.” Beau commanded as he cleaned off his cock with his canteen of water before putting himself away, as uncomfortable as it is. Micah quickly cleaned up with the water of the lake, getting out of the water, he shudders from the cool air that hits him. “C’mon, grab your clothes.” Micah did what Beau said without thought, Beau walked ahead of him back to camp. The other men of the camp laughed when they saw Micah, he looked like a drowned rat. “Have a nice bath, Mr. Bell?” Arthur asked mockingly, making a blowjob motion with his hand, “F-Fuck you, cowpoke.” Micah scowled at the man who sat on his cot, Beau swatted Micah’s chest, “Get Dressed, we’re going to go raid an O’Driscoll camp.” Beaumont said, grabbing his rifle from underneath his cot. Micah came over to Beau’s tent after getting dressed in his normal outfit, “Ok, I’m ready to go.” Micah mumbled as Beau walked past him, the man waltzed over to where St. John is and climbed atop the large horse, Micah doing the same with his own horse. “H’yah!”

#bd/sm community #rdr2 fanfic #Micah bell is a pisswhore #rexxxfics

[zodiacal-dust-and-curls]

I already know the answer to this but, which Bo Rhap boy is your favorite, and why? Pls be specific

Gwilym Lee, 

The man has utterly taken over my life and I’m not upset. Like not even a little bit. 

Let’s run a list, shall we. 

His talent. He clocked EVERYTHING while interacting with Brian and brought it all to the screen. When you watch the videos of them together, you can literally see the way Gwilym is studying him. It’s unreal. 

His sense of humor. Please dig into his twitter a bit or just read his comments on insta. F*cking hilarious. (This isn’t even the best one, it just has a pic of him that I like)

The Voice. I feel like enough is said there. Like I even like it in the video with Cardy B in jail in Tokyo (i think?) where he sounds drunk as a skunk. 

He’s just like really pretty. He checks off all my aesthetic points: Tall ✔ Blue eyes ✔ Dark hair ✔ Pretty bearded or clean shaven ✔✔. My mom says it’s because I like pointy/angular boys. But whatever mom. He’s too pretty to ignore. 

Lastly, he is utterly unattainable due to a commitment to his lovely fiancee. Which is amazing and I wish them the best in life. 

Thank you for asking an allowing me to rant. I appreciate it. 

#queen sleepover #borhap sleepover #shels #gwilym lee #have i mentioned he's the leading reason i started learning welsh #a whole language for a man i'll never meet #its overkill #but what can i do

[fuckyeahererifanfic]

Hi! I've been watching Snk for a little more than 2 months now, but I totally fell in love with Riere/Ereri ❤️ Can you please recommend a few fics in which Levi or Eren is drunk and gets flirty with the other, love confessions... ANYTHING really 😂 Thank you so much! ❤️

There miiiight potentially be some already in the [alcohol] tag, but some in there might also be angst, so make sure to read the summaries and tags!

The Not-So Direct ApproachSummary: Levi runs his mouth when drunk. Of course he rants about his pretty new recruit Eren Yeager with his pretty eyes and pretty nose and pretty unfair height.     Unfortunately for him, it’s all on tape.

Drunk DialingSummary: It’s not Levi’s fault that his phone stored names alphabetically and that his best friend’s and his secret crush’s names both start with the same two letters.

Trip and Fall in LoveSummary: Eren drunkenly confesses that he thinks Levi is really hot after a photo shoot.

UnexpectedSummary: Eren shows up at Levi’s house in the middle of the night drunk as a skunk.

#thatsmypie #ereri #riren #rivaere #fuckyeahererifanfic #confessions #drunk #alcohol #drunken confessions #maybe I'll make that a tag #fluff #kinda

[queen-mischief-fanfiction]

Some Omega to love chapter two

Pairings: Freddie Mercury X Roger Taylor X Brian May X John Deacon, Alpha X Omega X Alpha X Alpha

Warnings: swearing, smuttiness galore (both in real life and in the mind), polyamorous relationship (if you don’t like that you can not read this), and later on some fights.

A/N: okay, here it is the long awaited Alpha/Omega Queen fanfic that I have teased everyone about. Now you can imagine this as the original queen or as the BoRhap Queen either one works for this story, please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog or heart this story and send me in requests for oneshots on my main.

 It was a cold spring morning for the small pub band known as Queen, which is why the unnaturally beautiful Omega cuddled closer to his Alphas. “Why does it have to be morning?” He moaned in despair as he smelt his Alpha’s calming scent while another pair of lips start kissing his neck “ honestly Roger if you and Fred didn’t get pissed drunk last night then you wouldn’t be feeling like shit” his curly haired Alpha berates wrapping his hands around Roger and the man, Freddie, still kissing his neck. “Don’t worry darling we can spend all day in bed and I can take you over and over agai-” “aren’t you both working at your stall today” John sassed, interrupting Freddie’s sexual whispers, as he laid on the other side of the sleepy Omega, causing the other Alpha to groan “and then afterwards we are going to Trident Studios to continue working on that second Album” Brian stated knowing that he was annoying Freddie even more. Meanwhile despite their loud voices Roger stayed curled up to John’s side, nose in his long hair and an ambition to stay in bed all day long, “well since I know you three I guess I’ll have to make breakfast again” sighed Brian unconvincingly as they all knew he would rather be cooking then leave it up to Freddie or Roger. As he left Roger turned over into Freddie’s body, who shared a smile with John over his body before John left the bed to use the bathroom before breakfast. “It’s so cold” Roger whined missing the heat “I know little one but we can’t stay in bed all day, no matter how much we want to” Freddie said looking down as his Omega looks up through sleepy eyes “I know” he whined and Freddie kissed his head as John came out into the room “morning Rog,” he kissed him good morning “,do you want Freddie or Brian or I to help you get ready?” “Just leave to me Deacy, you are already ready and will be leaving soon to get to school while Brian will get into the bathroom and then leave to the library for study. Leaving Roger and I to leave together to Kensington” Freddie explained to him. Deacy agreed and left the room to get Breakfast at the same time Brian came into the room “now I have set aside breakfast for the both of you so no cooking and don’t forget that we have to go to Tridant to record more of our second album alright” both sleepy men said yes and the tall Alpha went to the bathroom and got ready for the day and then afterwards he left with John in tow leaving Freddie in charge.

 “Time to get up” He clapped to gained Roger’s attention as he leapt out of bed before choosing to carry the Omega as he not only undressed them both but also got them washed in the shower. Roger decided to tease Freddie to hopefully get more time in bed, nuzzling against Freddie and small kisses against his neck “nice try but no luck darling” was his reply to his persistence mate and after that was able to clean him in peace. Still wrapped in his fluffy towel Freddie tore through their shared closet and decided to have Roger wear his signature gold flower jacket and black slick pants while Freddie wore a simple red top, rainbow suspenders and jeans with platform shoes, and with their signature jewellery such as Freddie’s rings and Roger wearing his silver choker and long necklace, when they decided they were fabulous they ate breakfast and left the apartment.

 *time skip*

The boys are now currently recording Seven Seas Of Rye at Tridant studios, they have been there for four hours and they are starting to feel it. “Tea  Break! I don’t care what you say Fred! But we all deserve a break” “alright darling no need to be a drama queen about it,” Freddie replied into the microphone “,I’m going for a fag anyone wanna come?” He asked the others but only John left with him to smoke outside while Brian got them their teas, leaving Roger in the room by himself which he used that time to tune his drums. Roger had been humming a new song he was thinking of sharing with the boys as he continued to tune and bang against his drums when he heard the door to the studio open up, at first thought he might have thought it was Brian coming back but one whiff of something that definitely wasn’t Brain’s Oakey, wooden and old book signature scent, but instead smelt whiskey, old, skunk which was obviously one of their managers it didn’t matter which one they were both utter arseholes. “You know you should feel lucky,” Norma Sheffield started slowly walking closer to the drummer “,not many Omegas get chances like these nowadays, and it’s even rarer for them to be drummers in the band or really anything more than groupies of the band.” Roger felt Norman’s vulture like eyes watching him, undressing him before looking up at the man stopping right in front of him smirking like a dam perv “it’s also hard to believe that a fine Omega such as yourself is still unmarked” Norman grinned as his hands caresses Roger’s fine hair and pale, markless neck before he pulled away and stood up to appear more on his level, “I don’t need a mark to show who I’m with” Roger spats out making Norma scoff “pathetic, Alphas are suppose to mark what’s there’s, to enforce their dominance upon the Omega and fight off any who refuse even if it means forcing themselves upon weak, little Omegas like you!” He shoves the drummer against the wall, making Roger gasp and giving the Alpha the chance to force a kiss to his lips and silence or atleast muffle any screams. Using his body to pin the younger Omega whilst his hands got busy undressing him, Roger tried to wiggle, push and kick at the man but that only seemed to make the Alpha more aroused, at this point Roger had tears running down his face as Norman took that moment to grope his cock through his boxers. It was at this moment that Freddie and John waltzed into the room and were shocked to find Norman on Roger,  Brian walked in after and upon looking the scene he drops the tray of teas and immediately he runs towards the group alongside Freddie who chooses to pull Norman off of Roger, as he weeps in Brian’s arms whilst Deaky, still in shock watches as Freddie starts to beat up their manager “Fred! Stop! We don’t have time for this look at Rog!” He implores the singer who pauses his massacre and once he sees how frighten ad traumatised Roger is agrees with John and the band quickly run to the van, Brian who has been carrying Roger throws the keys to John “John you’re gonna need to drive!” The bassist doesn’t argue and hops into the front seat followed by Freddie as his passenger and Brian and Roger in the back.

John must have ran a few stop signs and red lights with how reckless and fast he was driving, the others didn’t care or say anything about it as after he parked the car they all ran inside. Brian took sat Roger in his lap as he plan5s himself in the armchair, John has a distraught look on his face whilst Freddie paced in front of them as Roger continued to silently cry. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Freddie repeats over again quietly still trying to process what he say, “Freddie please stop you’re giving me a headache” Brian quietly asks the fuming Alpha “Oh I’m so sorry Darling if I’m giving you a headache but I’m still trying to wrap my head around how we found our Manager try to force himself on Roger!” Came the angry yet sarcastic reply of the front man, Brian rolling his eyes “well what do you want me to do Fred?” “Well why don’t we leave them then” “Freddie you know we can’t do that” “Excuse me do you even care about Roger?” “Don’t question my emotions Fred! I’m still trying to calm him down!” “Guys-“ “will the two of you just shut up?!” A furious Omega interrupts Deaky’s quiet comment, jumping to stand in front of his band mates, “I was almost raped today and now you both are fighting over staying with those pricks! I can’t believe you, both of you!,” he pauses his rant to wipes his eyes with his sleeve “,if it happens once it will happen again and again the problem isn’t finding the one decent manager that doesn’t take advantage of Omegas to work with the problem is you there and the fact that you won’t bloody mark me! I honestly don’t care about why you lot won’t let me show off the marks of the loves of my life I just want to have something to tell all the other Alphas to fuck off! But perhaps we should talk about this arrangement of ours” he quietly finishes walking off to their room and locking himself inside. The room was silent until “the Sheffield’s are shit, but before we do anything about him we have a traumatised Omega on our hands” John said looking into the eyes of his fellow Alphas as they figure out what needs to be done next.

#some omega to love #chapter two #Queen AU #queen-mischief-fanfiction

[ladykailolu]

OT6 drunk headcanon: Kaede and Rantaro have the highest tolerance to alcohol. Kaede, because I headcanon her part Russian. Rantaro has high alcohol tolerance in general. Never give Shuichi too much alcohol unless you want the detective to flirt/interrogate you or in a sour mood insult every negative flaw of yours. Kaito would sing all night. Kokichi would actually believe BS like he's a fruit vampire or talked to Peter Parker. Human Kiibo would get tired drunk or rage rant drunk. Watch them.

Oh dear!!! I’ll have to take all their car keys because NO ONE’S going out when they’re all drunk as skunks. I imagine Kaede likes more fruity drinks that have a higher alcohol content than beer. Her absolute favorites are the drinks that are served with little fruits like a Tequila Sunrise or a margarita. Rantaro also prefers the fruity drinks, but sometimes he’ll drink a few martinis and call it a night because he’s super tired. He could drink a few of them without getting sick, but then he’s out in bed for most of the day yesterday. Yet, he’s very responsible and remembers to eat before he drinks anything.

And then we get into the kiddies who can’t hold their liquor quite as well.

Shuichi is a little worried about drinking too much because he certainly doesn’t want to face the consequences and stay in the bathroom all night into the next day, so he takes it easy, remembers to eat beforehand, and takes little sips at first. But it just doesn’t take much for the drinks to go right to his head and makes him a little more chatty than usual. And oh boy, RIP you fools who get into an argument with him because he will not stop until 1 of 2 things happen: you either submit and agree with him, or you walk away and hope he doesn’t pursue you to make his point even clearer. He also loses his filter a bit when he flirts with the others, especially Rantaro and Kaede. Fun fact: he actually has woken up in a pretty messy bed while wearing nothing but his underwear and Kaito’s space jacket. He woke up confused with the strange sense of satisfaction and swore to never drink that much ever again.

Kaito would just do dumb shit tbh, or if he’s gaming or watching sports while drinking, he’ll rage if things don’t go the way he wants them to or just curse so hard it would make Miu blush and rage quit. He has also climbed on top of cars and awnings, and when he hugs his sidekicks or pats them on the back for a job well-done, he doesn’t really know his own strength and will nearly crush the air right out of them or cause them to stumble forward. He likes his beer, and a few times, he has taken shots of vodka straight and has even mixed drinks! Don’t ever do that. Don’t. He did just that and got pretty well acquainted with the toilet the next day. But this astro boi learns things pretty quick, and he bounces back pretty well from a hangover. Just drink some gatorade or water, take some pain killers and a warm shower, and he’s functioning on his way to work.

If u thought for one second that Kokichi couldn’t get more obnoxious then clearly you don’t want to see him drunk. He gets pretty emotional and chatty, and really, really hungry for some reason. One time at a birthday party hosted at some venue, he had stopped one of the waitresses trying to clean up the rest of the desserts on the table just so he can swipe a few of them while telling her, with his mouth full, how much he loved her. Then he’ll just skedaddle away to the next victim. He can also get…REALLY affectionate. Like casually hugging others on the couch or trying to rest his head in their lap for a quick nap, and this comes with a variety of reactions. He’ll also start…randomly intimately singing to a grapefruit??? Ok buddy, whatever works for you.

And Kiibo, poor sweet Kiibo. He’d be tired and frustrated by anything that has something to do with technology. Video buffering poorly? Well fuck that, piece of shit hard drive, wires, WHATEVER, JUST PLAY THE VIDE—oh ok, it’s playing, it’s cool. Then he might go on angry rants from anything ranging from the bullshit Kaito gets into while playing a video game, the bullshit of the video game itself and how much certain companies wanna rip players off, to arguing back against Shuichi just as stubbornly. And if something is particular funny to him, he’ll just have laughing spurts throughout the entire night as he thinks of that one thing until he finally clocks out and goes to bed.

It’s usually up to Rantaro and Kaede to clean up all the used glasses and empty bottles.

#Kaede Akamatsu #Rantaro Amami #Shuichi Saihara #Kaito Momota #Kiibo #K1-Bo #Kokichi Oma #ndrv3 #New Danganronpa v3 #anon #asks #Lady K answers