dumpster writing

Rebelcaptain Celebrity Pretend Relationship AU: On set and on location


Jyn’s had crushes on co-stars before. Fleeting little things that lasted weeks and then burnt out like a Fourth of July sparkler. But until Cassian, she had never had a dream so filthy that she woke up confused, angry, and in need of a cold shower.

She glares at him for a full two days, if only to combat the images in her mind that linger at the forefront of her memories like some sort of punishment her brain is meteing out. She can’t remember to buy milk and bread at the grocery store half the time, but somehow she has detailed recollections of something that never actually happened–his mouth against her neck; the rough of his hand pushing her against a wall as she gives in to it; the dark brown color of his eyes looking up at her from between her legs–it makes her want to kill something. Him, probably. But it’s not his fault, she understands. It’s her subconscious. (But she can still be angry at him.) None of this is helped by the fact that she knows how it feels like to kiss him now; that she’s seen him naked before (though only on film in one of her favorite movies, which, she’s never going to tell him about; she’s not quite thinking yet about the love scene that’s still to be shot).

It would be best if she could avoid them, but almost all of their scenes are together, and they still have to teach one another and breathe the same air. And they’re on location with little company save for the crew, a small handful of hotel staff, and the occasional white-tailed deer.

It would be so much easier if they were in California still, Jyn thinks. She could go out with friends; go complain to Bodhi some more. Drive along the PCH and with the windows down and just take in the salt air. But they are not. They are in a secluded cabin in northwoods of Wisconsin, the “talent” in one of the cottages at a small B&B and the production staff at a motel down the road. The talent just happens to consists of her and Cassian, and their only other company is the proprietor and her husband and their two sheepdogs.

At least their scenes are action sequences this week and not anything more intimate, she thinks. Except she rereads the script and sees him on set in just a tank top and remembers that one of their scenes involves a lot of grappling. Hands on muscles, pushing against chests, close-ups of their faces panting at each other in exertion.

I’m in hell, Jyn thinks. I’m in hell, and it’s a place called Wisconsin with Cassian Andor.

+

Cassian watches Jyn lope onto the set, a scowl on her face, one that’s lived there for days, and he misses California Jyn, the Jyn that had to pretend that she was in love with him, because for all its fakery, at least she smiled, and at least she didn’t look ready to kill him all the time.

“Your expression is good,” Draven tells Jyn when she skitters by. “But save some for the film, right, girl?”

Jyn only scowls deeper, then shoots Cassian another angry look.

He sighs and checks his phone, scrolling through the new texts from Amelia, who keeps dropping less than subtle hints about wanting to get back together even after he let her down as gently as possible the last four or five times. Closing out his messages, he finally notes the date: May 29. He stiffens. The anniversary of his mother’s death. He feels the coldness gather inside his chest. How had he forgotten?

But there’s no time to remember, and Draven calls them both to set, and he has to stop being Cassian and start being “Javier”; when Jyn has to stop being herself and start being “Laura.”

He and Jyn tear through the woods toward the lake as Draven chases them with the hand-held camera. Jyn’s barely keeping up, and Cassian pulls her arm to bring her closer, shouting, “Let’s go! Let’s go!” They finally stop, squeezed tight along the base of the rock bluffs, hiding from the unnamed purser in Draven’s still continuing shot.

Cassian feels Jyn’s hand curl into his chest as she says her next line, her fingers tangling in his chest hair curling outside the neckline of his shirt. “Are you okay?” she says, looking up at him, waiting for him to deliver his line. Then something flashes in her eyes, something off script. He sees her bite her bottom lip.

But his next lines freeze in his throat. He focuses in on her instead. Her hand is warm and soft, and he’s startled by his own reaction to the touch, breaking character for a moment. Are you okay? she had said. He looks at her, at her big eyes dark green in the dusk, and something inside him begins to thaw.

Draven yells cut, and they both jerk their heads up as though they had forgotten that they were alone. “Good complicated emotions you two,” their director tells them. “Let’s start again though from ‘Are you okay.’ I need a tighter shot.” Draven walks toward them and cuts between them, repositioning Jyn and checking the lighting near Cassian’s face.

Jyn shoots Cassian a look while she waits, a curious look on her face, “Are you okay?” she mouths, and it’s Jyn, not Laura saying this to him. When was the last time anyone had asked him that, he wonders, even if it was for the camera?

He gives her a slight nod and mouths back, “I’m okay,” and she smiles, the scowling and anger from the last two days finally washed away. And he can’t help it. He smiles back.

anonymous asked:

so idk anything about the fight club book but ever since that reblog you did for it all I can think about is credence kind of as marla (i know it doesn't fit him well) but just seeing him saying "you're the worst thing that ever happened to me" and then being brought back and holding graves hand keep playing on repeat in my head. it's a very half assed idea strictly for the purpose of that one line lmao

Anon, on a scale from 1-10 I think you were aiming for a 3 but you hit a 9 from me 

(a 10 or 11 is when I run off and write an entire goddamn novel of fanfiction, but a 9 is just… a big stupid essay, I’m sorry)

So, like, honestly Chuck P is probably one of my biggest writing influences and idols and I have learned much from him and one time he threw an inflatable penguin (FIGHT CLUB REFERENCE) at me and I still have it and it’s signed XOXO CHUCK and anyway…

Cut because it’s gratuitously long and also because I talk pretty candidly about abuse and Fight Club with all its… Fight Club-ness.

Keep reading

Okay, but...

Hades is a real smooth-talker. He has an air of cocky sophistication about him that just screams - “I’m better than you, and I know it.” But I’m willing to bet you money if Zelena actually turned the tables on Mr. Perfect and tried to seduce him instead, he’d fucking short-circuit. 

You literally cannot convince me otherwise.

anonymous asked:

worth dying for with jason, roy, and kori

“It’s a suicide mission!” Roy grabbed Jason’s shoulders and shouted, uncomfortably close to his face. “You can’t do that. You can’t leave everything like that.” The words he wanted to say caught in his throat. You can’t leave me like that. 

Jason stepped back, face hardened into a mask more effective than his helmet. “It’s a decent trade. I die, and the world gets saved.”

“And you were just going to leave us?” Kori laid a hand on his shoulder. She tilted her head, looking down at him with wide eyes. 

This was why he wanted to sneak out. It was easier to hurt them if he didn’t have to see it.

“It’s worth it. You have to see that. It’s not like it’ll be the first time.” 

“So you’re going to up and die without me again?” Roy swung his fist, but Kori pulled him back before he could connect. “He deserves it, Kori! A fist to the face is gonna be the least of his concerns. God, Jaybird.” 

“Don’t.” Jay’s voice shook, just barely. “Don’t call me that. Don’t talk to me. Don’t remind me of what I’m losing. I’m leaving, and I’m going to die, and you can’t stop me.” 

Roy laughed, short and sharp. “Stop you? Is that what you think we’re trying to do?” 

Kori smiled. “We are not trying to stop you.” 

“Oh no.” Jason raised his hands as if to push them away. “I’m not gonna have your blood on my hands for no reason.” 

“There’s plenty of reason,” Roy said. “Like, whatever the hell we all have. Whatever this fucked-up, stupid… We fucking lo–You asshole! Is this how you want this to happen? Do you want us to kiss you and let you walk out to die?” Roy was shaking, his face white. “Did you leave us fucking notes? Did you say you loved us? Or were you not going to say anything at all, just leave us wondering? Let me GO, Kori. I’m gonna kill him.” 

“We are not going to let you leave us,” Kori said. “You will not die alone again.” 

“But why?” Jay said. His voice cracked. 

Kori pulled the two boys into a hug. “Some things…some people…are worth dying for.” 

  • POC in fandom: It makes me super uncomfortable that fandom's approach to "write what you want" often results in racist and misogynistic works that dehumanize and erase characters of color and female characters (and female characters of color). Whenever I see posts telling fan fiction writers to "write what they want", they tend to be in response to people like me pointing out that fandom is categorically unsafe for POC and women who don't toe the line. There are tons of stories about characters of color being brutalized for the sake of kink and the fact that fandom culture would rather ignore the issues there instead of fixing the fact that that sort of thing is considered the norm, is frightening. Maybe exploring your sexuality and identity shouldn't come at the cost of other people's humanity? Please think about that.
  • A whole bunch of entitled assholes every single fucking time: Don't fucking tell me what to write you fucking SJW. If you can't handle ~problematic~ content, don't critique it even if it's racist or misogynistic or upholds systematic oppression as totally awesome. You're triggering yourself on purpose, that's not our fault. Fan fiction isn't important enough for posts like these. It doesn't matter if someone writes tons of stories dehumanizing black characters so white men can triumph! Just go out into the real world and ~make a difference~ because it's not like fandom is the real world impacted by established biases like cissexism or antiblackness. Freedom of speech is a right so we can write what we want, but you can't critique us. ~Don't police or criticize (white) women's sexuality because fan fiction is so important because it's a way for them to explore their kinks and desires safely even when that means writing sexualized,consensual violence and humiliation as uncritical kink~

thrakaboom  asked:

22. Roy/Jason (maybe about Jay's autopsy scars?)

Jason was never shirtless. Even on the beach, he’d worn one. When Roy asked, he mumbled something about burning. Roy thought it was bullshit. 

“Sunscreen exists, y’know. I’m pale as you and I’m fine.” 

“Maybe I don’t want to steal your title as the king of freckles.” 

“You can’t get on my level,” Roy said. And then the conversation moved on, and he put it out of his mind. 

Until now, when Jay’s lips are against his. Roy didn’t picture it like this, figured when they finally got together it’d be all bruising kisses and fingernails and too much tequila. But Jason was sitting on the hotel bed, cleaning his guns, and Roy had flopped down on the bed beside him. 

He always liked to watch Jay clean his guns, liked to watch his long fingers going through movements they’d done a million times. Jason didn’t even look at them half the time. So Roy sat up and rested his chin on Jay’s shoulder. 

“Handsy,” Jason muttered, focusing on the gun in his hands. 

“Mmhmm. It’s part of my charm.” 

“You’ve got about as much charm as a sewer rat. No, that’s an insult to rats everywhere.” 

“More’n you.” 

Jason turned his head to look at Roy, and suddenly their lips were only inches apart. Looking back, Roy’s not sure who kissed whom. It’s enough to know that it happened. 

And it led to now, with Jay’s hands up under his shirt and running all over his back. It’s almost funny how simple it is, how natural it feels to be kissing the stupid smirk off his stupid lips. Jason pulls Roy’s shirt over his head and kisses down his neck. Roy has just enough presence of mind left to realize that nudity should be reciprocal, so he reaches for the hem of Jason’s shirt. 

And that’s when everything falls apart. Jason pulls back so quickly Roy doesn’t register it until he’s halfway across the room, hands yanking his shirt back down. 

“The shirt stays on,” Jason says. He’s not shaking, but he’s not not.

“Whoa. Dude, I’m not gonna do anything while you’re like this.” Roy doesn’t move. He’s walked Jason through panic attacks before. This isn’t the worst he’s seen by far. It’s probably not full-blown yet, probably not too late to head off, but sudden movements are generally a bad idea. He raises his hands to show Jay that there’s nothing in them. 

“I’m keeping my shirt on,” Jason repeats. 

“Hey. Okay. It’s your prerogative. It’s just me, dude. Just Roy.” 

Jason’s face relaxes a little. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Roy says. 

“No.” Jason chews his lip, then balls his hands in the hem of his shirt. 

“I’m not gonna think anything of whatever it is. I’m scarred up to hell, you know.” 

“Not like this you’re not.” 

And then Roy gets it. 

“Oh shit. You’ve got autopsy scars, don’t you?” 

Jason won’t meet his eyes, but he nods. His balled-up fists have moved to his sides now. 

“You don’t have to let me see anything you don’t want to, but I’m not going to judge you.” He moves slowly over to Jason’s side, making sure Jay sees everything he’s doing. He slowly puts an arm around Jay’s shoulders, giving him plenty of time to say no or flinch away. “You’re still hot as hell regardless.” 

“It’s what they mean, y’know?” 

“What? That you’re a badass?” The comment falls flat, and Roy wishes he could take it back. 

“That I DIED, Roy. I went through hell, and then they cut me open to figure out which particular part of hell had killed me.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t fucking apologize. Just…don’t say anything.” Jason pulls him into a hug, and they sit that way until his breathing steadies. He pulls back and stands, and Roy’s stomach sinks, wondering what he’s done wrong. 

“Here. You wanna see? This is it.” Jason slowly pulls his shirt over his head. He throws it to the ground almost defiantly. “Dead boy walking right here.” A long Y-shaped scar branches over his torso.

Roy’s not sure what to do, but he follows his gut. He and Jason had never followed the rules anyway, and there’s no guidebook for “My Sorta-Boyfriend’s a Zombie Vigilante.” Well, there probably is, but as a rule he’s not into paranormal romance.

He skims his fingers over the scar, tracing the V first and then down the tail of the Y. He shoots a look up, and Jason’s just standing there, breath caught in his throat. 

“You know what this means?” He presses a gentle kiss to the tip of the Y, then down to the juncture, then back up the other side. Jason’s breath hitches as he reaches the top, and Roy stretches up to kiss his lips. “It means you came back to me.” 

bellemon  asked:

“You don’t have to stay.” — jay and evie b/c i'm a slut for evie ships :3

thank you so much for the prompt!!! had fun writing it!! :) (and im just a slut for evie fanfiction in general cause shes an adorable little cutie lol)

“You don’t have to stay,” His voice was rough, as if he hadn’t spoken in days. He was tired, she could see it in his eyes. His eyelids were drooping down, so close to shutting that she almost couldn’t even tell they were open. His face was pale and sweat was gathering on his forehead, and he grimaced as she gently cupper her hand around his cheek.

His skin was feverish, and his eyes had finally closed. She quickly moved her other hand up to his forehead, “God, you’re burning up, Jay.” She says, moving to rest her right hand on the back of his kneck.

A smirk forms on his lips as he took a deep breath in, “Aw, babe, I always knew you thought I was hot. If you wanted to touch me all you had to do was ask.” He tried to sound flirty, but any means of flirtation was lost by how undeniably sick he sounded.

She rolled her eyes at him nonetheless, grabbing his hand in an attempt to pull him off the bathroom floor. He was wobbly on his feet, and she had to support his much larger frame almost completely. She drew his arm around her shoulder, wrapping her arm around his waist as she began to walk him towards his bed.

They had barely gotten to the doorway when his head slumped onto her shoulder, groaning. “Evie, the room’s spinning,” He moaned, and she could feel his lips moving along her bare skin. She could feel her cheeks become flush immediately, the blush spreading along her skin like a fire. “Why is the room spinning?” He asked quietly, although it sounded like it was more to himself than anyone else.

She continued to move them towards the bed, attempting to get Jay to move his feet along with her. She set him down on his comforter, and by a sheer stroke of luck, his head plopped down on his pillow without complaint. She heaved a sigh of relief, moving to take his leather boots off his feet.

She thought it was strange that he wore his boots with his pajama pants, but thinks that he may have been to delirious to realize what he was doing when he got dressed this morning. She hadn’t seen him at breakfast, and Carlos had taken Dude for a walk before Jay had even been up, so no one had seen him yet that morning. She came to check on him before class, and had found him passed out next to the toilet.

Jay began moaning from his place on the mattress, and Evie noticed how he was practically shaking. She quickly inched the covers out from beneath him, placing them around his shoulders as he let out shaky breaths. She drew her eyebrows together as she gazed at him in concern, turning towards the bathroom to get him a cold washcloth for his forehead.

She smoothed his hair bac from his face, sitting beside him as she placed the wet rag onto his forehead. He shuddered a bit when her fingers made contact with his burning skin, but soon relaxed into her touch.

When he mumbled a thank you in his sleep, Evie knew that missing school today to take care of this idiot wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

Now That I’ve Got Your Love

Prompt: 

[x x]
Pairing: Cockles
Other: Richard Speight Jr, Jared Padalecki, Kim Rhodes, Osric Chau (mentioned), Rob Benedict (mentioned)
Warnings: T R A S H O V E R L O A D 
Word Count: 2.3k
A/N: There’s reference to The Cockles Breakup Theory, if you’re not familiar with this fandom’s most heart wrenching conspiracy theory, you should read up on it here. This is unbeta’d af, bc who cares *insert shrug emoij* this is only fanfiction, no disrespect intended towards any of the people mentioned, can no-one sue me pls i’m only a smol poor 

Tagging: @perfackles (@coconutice22) and @godshipsit because it was their birthdays and while they deserve more than this - this is, unfortunately, all that my untalented, broke ass can offer… enjoy the feels! :D

Misha notices.

Of course he does.

Affection received from one, Jensen Ackles, is astounding. Affection received in public from one, Jensen Ackles, is unparalleled. It makes Misha nostalgic for a time long ago.

But he doesn’t say anything.

Jensen might notice the controlled surprise in his eyes as the man leans his head back, searching out Misha’s shoulder, but he doesn’t say anything.

Jensen might notice his hand go up to brush between the man’s shoulder blades when he leans in to speak to both him and Jared, but he doesn’t say anything.

Most of all, Jensen might notice the slight crease between his brows when Jared wraps Jensen’s arm around his shoulder, but he doesn’t say anything.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

UM..hi. I wanted to ask you what were your thoughts about the last couple of chapters of Haikyuu (if you've read them of course). 'cause I really enjoyed when you analysed chapter 219 :D and I've been internally screaming in pain since 223 came out.

tladjfa HI I’m reading it right now brb

ahahahahahahhahahahahahFUCK

Okay, so this is gonna be a current manga spoilery post (Ch 223 out 9/21), so proceed with caution. I’m going off the mangapark translations!

BOLD OPENING STATEMENT: I think we should remain calm. 

Please take all this with a grain of salt, because I might be catastrophically wrong and am simply theorizing!!! Furudate is incredibly good at leaving character emotions and motivation up to interpretation. Kageyama may indeed go off the deep end again. But one thing I am fairly sure of: this will all end happily with a big gay KageHina scene, because it’s Haikyuu, so NOBODY PANIC YET ok

Everything’s not 100% fine, but I think it’s on the low end of Not Fine - this arc probably started way back from when Miya called Kags a “goody two shoes”. It doesn’t get wrapped up at all when he’s in the training camp, and I think we’re finally on our way to a conclusion. But we have to go a couple chapters back to figure out what I think is going on with Kageyama right now.

At the end of Chapter 219, Kageyama and Miya actually sit and have a chat after a game. Miya tells Kageyama that people who can’t hit his Really Great tosses are “scrubs”, that they suck. And Kageyama, I think, hears that and needs to take some time to process what it means.

He then asks Miya what he meant when he called him a goody two shoes, and Miya says that he meant exactly that. Kageyama is hard working and honest. 

So, Miya is kind of a stuck up asshole. He’s good, but he lords it over people. He’s acting a bit like middle school Tobio, in fact. But despite what people think about him, Kageyama is not like that. He appears that way sometimes, but it comes from a different place. And he’s been trying very hard to move past giving people that perception.

He’s still thinking about what Miya meant when he gets back to Karasuno. When Kageyama asks Ukai about the goody two shoes comment in Chapter 222, Ukai responds, “There is no greater toss than one that is easy for the spiker to hit.” (I love you Keishin) This is advice from the former coach Ukai, so I think it’s safe to say Kageyama will seriously take those words to heart. Kageyama is constantly thinking and analyzing what it means to be the most effective setter possible, and he’s grown to realize (with a lot of help from Oikawa) that this means he needs to think about the ways he can best assist his team and help them get to the top. 

And I think that ultimately, he doesn’t want his tosses to be too hard to hit. Even if he is way above their level, the people who can’t spike his tosses aren’t “scrubs”. He learned this back in Kitagawa Daiichi - and Furudate is pulling HARD on those memories through these past two chapters, look at the very first page image! 

This to me looks like a memory after Kageyama had really started to fall apart re: teamwork. But all of this feels more like Furudate is calling back to the things he learned because of his mistakes in middle school (he even does this in Ch 219 with Hinata remembering Kageyama talking about how afraid he was). Kageyama has learned he needs to adjust to his teammates’ level, which for him means nailing pinpoint accuracy for every single person he tosses to.

BUT - this is Kageyama. And Kageyama is demanding when it comes to giving it your all in volleyball. And if he is giving it his all, then in his mind, we know, this means that there’s NO REASON whatsoever for anybody else on his team not to do the same thing.

But this means different things to different players! And we see this happen three times over the course of the game so far with Date Tech.

1) Nishinoya performs a rolling thunder receive, SAVES THE BALL, but inadvertently gets in the way of the back attack run up. Kageyama calls him out on this not to reprimand him but to make him realize that he could have slowed down the play. IMPORTANTLY: Noya agrees, and all is well. Prior to his realization, Noya was 100% committed to saving the ball - now he’ll probably keep positioning in mind more, too.

2) Tsukki doesn’t jump again for the block, knows he fucked up. Kageyama calls him out on it - Tsukki responds predictably. If that had been one of the other players, a) they probably would have acknowledged it first and Kageyama would have stayed quiet or b) Kageyama would have said something and they would have agreed, like Noya. But Tsukki internalizes and learns, and doesn’t feel the need to HOLLER OUT every little thing he does. Yamaguchi sees it, because he knows him. Kageyama is the least connected to him, and also probably the worst at catching social cues, so he does a Kageyama Thing and flaps his mouth off. But Tsukki, in his way, is committed and working hard here.

3) Asahi’s slow follow up. He immediately puts the blame on himself. He’s thinking about getting past that block, but he realizes that he’s too caught up in his own head. Also relevant: any time in the past Kageyama feels his toss is off (and he would know) he apologizes and asks what he can do better. And Asahi has told him what kind of tosses he likes best. So this isn’t Asahi being overly apologetic; the toss simply wasn’t off. 

Kageyama then asks him to decide on what he’s going to do faster. In my opinion, this is the harshest one - because it’s poor ASAHI. But we also know that Asahi is perfectly capable of being decisive and dominant on the court. I don’t think Kageyama is trying to be harsh or overly critical, here. I think if he’d really been out of line, Daichi would have stepped in. I think Kageyama is just observing that Asahi is “really off his game” like Suga said, and is trying to snap him back into the zone for the sake of the team and the game. 

Tsukki says the training camp is supposed to have been good for Kageyama, but instead it’s regressing him back to his tyrant king ways. But, I don’t think that’s entirely true. For one, it’s the Salt King saying this, and he’s already pissed at Kageyama for calling him out and being right about it. 

Especially now that Tsukki (as we’ve seen from HIS training camp) really is starting to think critically about the game at all times, and put a great deal more effort into it. I think he’s probably just looking for a dig here, rather than making a 100% factual statement.

Because I really don’t see the same vitriol and anger and actual desperation in the things Kageyama is saying and doing in this chapter, compared to the Kitagawa Daiichi vs Yukigaoka game. Back then, he was furious, with his team’s unwillingness to listen to him as well as their inability to keep up. 

But I don’t see that in this current chapter: 

He’s under stress, he’s trying to think of a million things at once, they’re down a couple points and yet… he’s not pissed, he’s just working hard. 

My first reaction was to be legit proud of him in these moments. Maybe that’s just my kneejerk reaction where Kageyama is concerned (it is, it 100% is my kneejerk reaction where Kageyama is concerned), but he was so not being a tyrant in these moments at all! He’s not demanding to know why people aren’t working harder, he’s actively trying to show them how to improve. Even in Tsukishima’s case, he shows active trust in his teammate instead of disbelief and frustration, because he knows Tsukishima could have done better. It’s not like in middle school where he was screaming at people who couldn’t spike his insane, impossible sets. He knows Tsukki could have done better, and he tells him so. Tsukki is just mad because he knows it too.

This brings us back around to the goody two shoes bit. I don’t think Kageyama agrees with Miya about the fundamentals behind getting people to hit your tosses. Sure, Miya is an excellent setter. But so is Kageyama, and he knows first hand that a team is by definition not one person being great. It’s all the players, covering for each other, and I think that’s what he’s trying to do here. Kageyama is a phenomenal player, but this means that he has to bring the whole team up to his level. Not just stand there shouting and leaving them in his dust. That just leaves him without a team, not the other way around.

Final note:

Hinata understands Kageyama better than anyone. Like back at the training camp, Hinata is watching and observing one of the players he himself looks up to most - and I honestly do not see any dismay or frustration or even his usual “oh crap, Kageyama is mad” panic. He’s contemplative, but he’s not really… worried? 

So I don’t think we need to be worried yet, either. But if Kageyama does get out of line, I’m fully confident in Hinata and Karasuno’s abilities to bring him right back into the center of the team where he belongs. 

anonymous asked:

jason/roy “I fell down some stairs.”

Roy stumbled–and Jason did mean literally stumbled–into their apartment in the middle of the afternoon. He was all scraped up, and his nose was bleeding, most likely broken. 

“Get over here,” Jay said. He ran his fingers gently over Roy’s nose. 

Roy gritted his teeth “Do you have to do that?” 

“It’s definitely broken. But shouldn’t need a doctor. Lean forward.” Jason didn’t give him a choice, pushing him onto the couch and tilting his head forward. “Don’t bleed on the upholstery.” 

“Guess we know where your priorities lie,” Roy said. He still gratefully accepted the ice pack Jason brought. “Ow! Shit. Seriously?” 

Jason dabbed hydrogen peroxide over the his scrapes. 

“These are gross. What, did you lose a fight with some asphalt?” 

“It was ninjas,” Roy said. “Like, a whole bunch of fucking ninjas.” 

“Ninjas, Roy? Seriously? You decide to lie to me, and you say it was ninjas?” 

“One of those days it’ll actually be ninjas. Thousands of them. And I’ll call you like ‘Jay, help, I’m being attacked by ninjas,’ and you’ll be all ‘God, Roy, you could at least just admit you’re running late for dinner,’ and then I’ll be DEAD.” 

“Eh. It’s your turn to die anyway, Boy Who Cried Ninja.” Jason grinned at him. “So who was it actually? Did you bring ‘em in?” 

Roy winced. “Not exactly…”

“Need help? My night’s free.” 

“I don’t need help. It’s not a big deal.” Roy sighed. “Just let it go, okay?” 

“Was it someone really embarrassing? Like Calendar Man? Or Kiteman? Oh I know! Was it Signalman? I bet it was Signalman!” 

Roy glared at him. “I didn’t lose a fight with Signalman. I’m at least moderately capable.” 

“If you don’t wanna talk about it…” Jason began. 

“I fell down some stairs, okay?” 

“So…no supervillain?” 

“No supervillain. But by all means, try to arrest the stairs.” 

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I’ve had this in my drafts for ages…. Anyways this is a little comic based off one of @shsl-shipper-gamer-fangirl ‘s writing prompts that I can’t tag bc I’m on mobile… 

Hero Time: The Wash Cave

Disclaimer: Red vs Blue and related characters are the property of Rooster Teeth.
Warnings: Language, Canon-typical violence, Alien-MPREG
Pairings: Tuckington
Rating: T
Synopsis: [Vigilante AU] Tucker’s life has been weird for a while. Weird enough that finding a brightly clad jackass bleeding out in the restaurant’s dumpster isn’t probably the weirdest thing that’s going to happen to him that day. Shenanigans ensued pretty readily.

A/N: Based on [this picture] by @ashleystlawrence and the initial prompting of @goodluckdetective.

Okay I feel terrible because (as is probably very obvious by now) I do not normally do shippy stuff, and especially not long form, but YES. Finally okay. All the world building established we now have Tucker and Wash, together, in a chapter and we can begin the juicy stuff. I’m sure the pacing has felt slow for a fic up to now but I promise! It’s going to pay off : ) Thanks for having faith in me and the story up to now!

Thanks for the feedback to @secretlystephaniebrown, @doubleodonut, alkeni, Yin, night_litany, HappyFunBallXD, @ashleystlawrence, @demoranightmares, @godoflaundrybaskets, Beawolfs_Pen, and JjThereforeIAm on AO3 and tumblr!

Impatient as the knocking was, Tucker knew to expect more than just Caboose on the other side of the door. Still, it was surprising that Church would tag along after having been forced onto babysitting duty just the night before.

“You look pleasant,” Tucker said with a snort as he opened the door the rest of the way.

Church grouched at him before shuffling the rest of the way in. “That how you going to treat me after I go through the snow for you, asshole?”

“You can’t get cold,” Tucker responded with a wave before leaning back against the door and waiting for Caboose to lumber on through. “I’m not keeping the door open forever, man, c’mon!”

“I am not tracking snow in,” Caboose announced, rubbing the bottoms of his boots against the door frame. “Because that would be very, very rude.”

“You know what else is rude? Making the guy holding the door open for you wait. Caboose, get in here,” Tucker ordered, watching with arms crossed as Caboose finally filed all the way through the door.

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Even though [the essayist] is that educated, I just can’t believe why he’s homeless. There must be some job out there that can pay him at least something. Like, he should have just found something out there with that sort of intelligence level. You can’t be homeless if you’re smart, right?
—  First-year, unknown major, talking about an essayist writing on dumpster diving. Submitted by kaosblaze
Alright, listen up.

Jewfro’s in the dumpster again for writing crap and I’m clearing shit up, because if one more person asks if we sold the baby, someone’s gonna end up in traction. You shits aren’t getting any of the fun details, but at the end of the day, Puckzilla’s got a baby Puckzilla at home. Quinn’s not involved, but if anyone even looks at her funny for it, they’re gonna wish I just put them in the hospital, got it? I’m not here for the bullshit. I’ve got more important crap to deal with. 

medium.com
12 Things I Noticed While Reading Every Short Story Published in 2014–15 — Electric Literature
(or, Extremely Long Titles That Are Complete Sentences Are Still Very Much a Thing)
By Kelly Luce

The title of this post is: “Dead young girls making sad white men at a family lake house, cold coffee and warm beer: DO NOT WRITE THESE THINGS.”