#ok so my love language is making gifs of otps even if there are likely to be a million gifsets out there already

[idlesuperstar]

My. Sounds like a love story.

#justified #raylan givens #boyd crowder #that's it that's the show #ok so my love language is making gifs of otps even if there are likely to be a million gifsets out there already #am I only just now watching this show from 2011 you bet I am #have I plunged headlong into obsession already after only one and a half series oh HELL YEAH #conversation with my pal who recced this to me after I'd watched three eps #me: 'did you make me watch this so you can talk about your crush on timothy oliphant? because thanks now I have one TOO' #him: 'I have such a crush on him. He's Chris Isaak hot!' #which from him is the highest compliment #(solidifying my long term suspicion that my bestie is not 100% straight but then again didn't everyone want to shag 90s ewan macgregor??) #anyway thank you all the fic writers for au-ing the hell out of this and giving me raylan/boyd for days #also fucking 1000% credit to walton goggins for making boyd so INSANELY MAGNETIC

[simon-x-billy]

Simon x Billy

Year of the OTP: June

Chapter 6: Where’s the helipad?

June prompt: Soulmates

AN: Enjoy the sweet sweet sounds of helicopter blades slicing through the air. I love the helicopter scene so much. It is happy-making. It just makes me love both of them for each other. (Let's ignore the fact that I wrote it.)

We are so close to the sex, guys. So close. This is the last SFW chapter for a while. Bask in the virginal dude-bro vibe, and let people know that you read the chapters before they were cool.

TW: Rewrites. Mystifyingly late posts. Drunkenness. If alcohol is triggering for you, no need to read the last teeny section after we first meet Barry. Rest assured that Simon gets home safely and says cute stuff, then happily goes to bed.

Masterlist || ao3 || Prev || Next

————/Simon/————

I am trying to stop thinking about falling to my death. Give me a minute.

Ok, so this is…………This is a long flight of fucking rickety, wind-blasted wood. Not like that metal set of stairs with all the switchbacks I was complaining about last time I encountered stairs. I take all of my complaints back about that place. That was the height of stair-building technology by comparison. This place is just…..language fails me, like I’m picturing the stairs failing me any second now.

Shush, I need to concentrate.

————/-/————

Oh my fucking god. I can’t breathe. Metaphorically kissing the ground due to sheer survival has become a feature of my stay here. Just cuz I survived. So much ground kissing happening in Italy. Especially near stairs.

So from the size and schmanciness I’m guessing this place was either for a huge schmancy family, or hardcore party animals needing lots of bedrooms (the olden days version). This coastline has been a summer getaway spot for centuries. Scratch that. For millennia. What, like maybe three thousand, four thousand years?

But actual beaches are rare here. Anybody with two inches of it will stick a beach umbrella in it. So imagine owning an entire beach. Right? Beside the hotel, the only other possible access is from the water. And there are a lot -- I mean a lot of yachts around here. They will never, ever look normal to me. But they’re starting to look like a normal thing around here. And I’m told these aren’t even the big ones. Fuck me sideways.

Both shots are from the website of the actual Hotel La Tonnarella, which is the hotel I based my fictional hotel on. Yes, it really looks like that. Yes, I did stay there. Totally worth going into debt. Best decision I’ve ever made. You can faintly see the stairs, at left. It’s that pale diagonal line down the cliff from the hotel at top left down toward the beach, crossing right in front of that ruin in the middle, halfway down the cliff.

Anyway, we’ve seen the (only) road and there’s definitely no place for me to do my morning run. It doesn’t even have a shoulder. I guess if I can’t run without going airborne off a cliff, I could do the steps when I wake up. Better than nothing. It’s just-

Well, we’ve seen that I hate stairs. Steep stairs. Cliff stairs.

Fuck. Besides being terrifying, it was tiring just getting down here. What am I going to do when I have to go back up?

Anyway, Billy’s working down here today. And I really feel like disrupting his job well done.

“Will yeh take a look at yer man now. Down the beach, explorin,” he calls, as I approach the hotel’s tiny beach bar. “You didn’t take the stairs, did yeh?”

“Um, yeah? Certo. I wanted to see the beach.” Obviously.

“Why didn’t yeh take the lift?” he asks me.

I fix the man to his spot with a very frowny, very deep, “Would you mind repeating that, Billy?” Exactly like if Kronk was playing me in the movie. I can barely see through my eyes that have now narrowed to slits of disbelief and distrust and discomfort. “There’s an elevator?”

“Well, yeah man. How else are people meant to get down here? The cliff’s a dangerous way down, innit?”

It’s ok, Lewis. You can incorporate this new information without flipping out. Just be proud of yourself for facing your fears. You descended steep, unsafe stairs. Good job! And you were only vaguely terrified the whole time. Good job!

“Is the cliff so dangerous that they should close it down due to the mounting death toll? Or is it only dangerous in an inoffensive, cute way?”

He huffs out a quick laugh, then returns to slicing up lemons.

“Billy? That was an actual question. Care to provide an answer?”

“Meh, it’s safe enough,” he says. And that, ladies and gentleladies, is all I need to convince me I can indeed use this as my new Italian Morning Exercise. 1. Cliff, 2. Coffee, 3. Cliff, 4. Vomiting coffee. Perfect.

————/-/————

I’ve spent all this week forging a grudging relationship with the beach stairs.

I’m getting a little more accustomed to it. I have a few specific stones and broken twigs I’ve chosen as landmarks, whenever I require reassurance that I am indeed climbing down the right cliff. And if I’ve survived it the last four mornings, I can survive it a fifth time. Flawless reasoning.

Behind the beach bar, Billy spots me and gives me a wave. “You packed, man?”

My insides instantly start fizzing. I am so fucking stoked. I got us an airbnb in Naples for the weekend so we can check out Sabina’s gig tomorrow night. Billy could not say yes fast enough. He’s a social guy, and there’s not a lot of nightlife around here. I have no idea how he’s managed it all this time. Oh wait, that’s right. He’s managed it with women. Lots of women.

Over the last week, I’ve come to the realization that management does not mind a guest hanging out at the bar distracting their employee all day, because while that guest is distracting the employee, he is also ordering drink after frothy fruit-based drink, and healthy fruit-based foods. It’s like they’ve realized that my distraction of Billy might actually be lucrative for them. I even have my own barstool. Officially.

I have an announcement to make. “I have come to a decision,” I announce. “We need a convertible.”

“Sorry?”

“A convertible. We need one,” I repeat.

“Yeah, mate, heard yeh.”

“What, it’s a convertible!”

Billy remains unmoved. “Why can’t we take the train? It’s simplest-”

“We are not taking the train.”

“But I quite like the train,” he claims.

“Because you’re insane and don’t like convertibles.” J’accuse!

“See now, I never said I don’t like convertibles. I-“ he begins.

But I totally interrupt him. “I need to go do something.” Because my brain just exploded with potential.

“What?” He might be alarmed.

Whereas I’m enthusiastic. “Be an Ugly American.”

“Er, that sounds terrible,” he says.

“If you’re gonna be American, you might as well own it. Watch me own it, Billy, watch me.”

Oddly, Billy still looks wary. “That sounds-”

“Awesome.”

“-terrible. You’re not plannin to wear one of them caps with straws into beer cans, are yeh?” He snorts at whatever he’s picturing. “Actually, I might pay yeh to do that.”

“Nah. Not my brand,” I say, sliding off the barstool. I snag an olive and pop it in my mouth, to avoid grinning like someone who grins because they’re about to do something awesome. “Ciao, Beelee.” I wave behind me.

I’ve got the phone out and I’m already dialing before I’ve even reached the stairs. And then I remember I can also take the elevator.

———/-/———

Billy has finally met up with me at the fountain by the hotel entrance. Thank god, cuz I really don’t want him to miss the arrival of that Ugly American thing that required a phone call. Ever notice there’s an ugh in ugly? Just occurred to me.

“There you are, Delaney. MWAH hah ha ha hahhhhh! Prepare to hear the sweet sweet sound of helicopter blades pulsing through the air. It’s done, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”

“Simon-”

“So where’s the helipad?” I inquire.

“The what now? Mate, it’s not that kind of hotel. Why are we taking a helicopter to Naples?”

“The correct response would normally be ‘because we can’-” Obviously. Certo.

“That is not a normal response.” Billy looks mystified, yet still amused. So that’s a thing.

“-but not this time,” I finish. “That’s not the real idea.”

“Oh, so you’re tellin me this is a superfluous helicopter. That is ugly.”

“No! It is most definitely not superfluous.”

“Your carbon footprint’ll be spendin all eternity in hell, man.”

“Billy.”

“Simon.”

“Stop talking. And just enjoy the mounting anticipation. The mellow sense of horror, or at the very least a nasty case of creeping dread. MWAH hah ha ha hahhhh!”

“Stop it, mate. You’re gettin evil genius all over my uniform. And you know how I feel about laundry.”

“Just a little bicarbonate of soda. Gets out even the most organic of stains. MWAH hah ha ha hahhhhh.”

“Simon.”

“Billy.”

“Stop talkin. Like an evil genius. We’re gettin complaints.”

“Are not.”

“From me. I’m complainin.”

“What am I going to wear?” I ask. It’s a fair question.

“Simon. Oh my god.”

“I’m serious! I packed for Italy in ten minutes. It’s all socks and shorts.” And sunblock. And chargers.

He’s shaking his head at me. For some reason, this makes me happy. In my tummy. How novel.

“Is that the fire alarm?” he asks.

“Huh? I mean, MWAH hah ha ha haaaah, oh no. What you’re hearing is the sweet sweet purring of a helicopter bearing my booty.”

“You didn’t think that one through, mate.”

“Oh, but yes, yes I did. This booty is worth baring. Can you feel it? The heady excitement of anticipation? The mellow terror?”

“Yes. I feel the terror,” he says blandly. He finds my terror bland.

Wait. “That would be the best cologne flavor ever. Mellow Terror, by Simon Lewis. Pour homme.”

“Are you manic right now?”

———/Billy/————

I was joking, but Simon just went very still. I’ve put my foot in, haven’t I?

“I am a bit manic, am’nt I?” he offers, tossing off a fake laugh.

“Somethin wrong with your shoes, mate? Simon, man, my eyes are up here.”

“Just wait til you see what I’ve done,” he says sheepishly, eyeing me from under his furry eye caterpillars.

“Simon. Should I be worried?”

“Oops?”

Oops? I haven’t a clue what to do with oops.

He grabs me excitedly by the forearm and starts dragging me toward the hotel gates.

That’s…Wait, is that-

“Simon. Did you buy a Mini Cooper?”

“A convertible Mini Cooper.”

“But why?” I ask the reasonable question.

“Because I can!” He’s practically vibrating. I can tell he wants to do his jumping-clapping thing by the way he’s currently bouncing on his toes.

“Simon.”

“Billy.”

“You bought a Mini Cooper. Convertible,” I swiftly add. “You’re in the land that built the Maserati, the Lamborghini, the Ferrari, and every other sports car that ends in i-”

“Not Audi.”

I huff in annoyance, “-and you bought a convertible Mini Cooper. And had it airlifted here. Because you could.”

“I’ve always wanted a convertible Mini Cooper.”

“But not a convertible Ferrari,” I clarify.

“No.”

“Who are you?”

“I’m awesome,” he answers, because he’s Simon.

I decide not to mention that we could have skipped the car altogether and taken the helicopter to Naples.

This is so childish, and impetuous, and reckless, and I refuse to find the actions of a grown man adorable. Jaysus.

“Oh my god!” he squeaks. “They were driving Minis in The Italian Job!!!”

Shaking my head. Just shaking my head. “Did you have them airlift in some clothes, too?”

“Shit! I totally should have!” He appears to actually mean that.

“You should see your face,” he hoots. Feckin hoots, all half bent over from laughin.

And now he’s ignoring me. Suddenly I’m not even here. He only has eyes for his Mini. “Oh my god it’s so kawaii.”

His smile is kawaii.

“Go away,” he flaps a hand at me. “I want to fanboy freely and without judgment from a judgy Irishman.”

“Fine. I need to pack anyway.”

And off behind me I hear him call, “Wait! What am I gonna wear?”

Shaking my head. Just shaking my head.

————/-/————

I’ve gathered my gear, and I can see Simon out by the car park. I’m hitching up my pack, so it isn’t really until I’ve cleared all the foliage that I realize Simon is humping his Mini Cooper convertible. “All right?” I ask, tryin to keep a straight face.

“Oh, yes. All is definitely right,” he purrs.

“Have you turned her on, too?”

He slides off the car til his Converse hit the pavement with a slap.

Now he’s draping himself over the boot. I can’t help it that I’m laughing. Sometimes he hits me just right to set me to belly laughin. Doesn’t happen often with Simon, but when it does, he wears the greatest surprised happy face I’ve ever seen. This time there’s giggling. Off to a good start, which is good. Yes. Good.

I hesitate. “Look, mate. Will this thing actually fit us?” I eyeball the car. “I am quite seriously concerned that we might actually need the top down to ride in this thing. How tall are you, anyway?”

“Six feet. Why? How tall are you? Mate, get off the boot so I can shove this in there and we can go.” He does, and I do.

I have to say it, “Thanks for not getting the red, white, and blue one.” There is a god. Thank you, Poseidon.

“They were out of orange, white, and green, too,” he says with regret.

“You asked about the tricolor, did yeh?” Alright yes, he’s got me laughin again. Simon Lewis. Driving the Irish flag.

“Fuck out of the driver’s seat!” he’s suddenly roaring.

Blimey. He looks proper angry. I may have just flinched. “Don’t you want a car and a driver? No, serious, don’t yeh want me to drive, since I know the way?”

“Get the fuck out of the driver’s seat, Billy. Now!”

“Alright! Fine, fine. You’ll be usin GPS then, will yeh?”

“Si si si, certo.”

I groan. “This is all about to go so very-”

“Awesome,” he declares. “This is all about to continue to be awesome. Be the change, Billy. Be the change!”

“Oh my god Simon.”

“I can hear you rolling your eyes from here,” he says from behind the boot, which he slams shut a little too hard. I feel it in every moving piece of this tiny automobile. Bigger than a SMART car, so I suppose I shouldn’t be complainin.

Well, here’s hoping he’s still so enthused about it at the other end. “Gotta say, mate. I’m surprised you’d want to drive at all.”

“Why not?” he’s askin.

“Because mate, it’s Italy, innit. Famous for frightenin foreign drivers.” He has to remember what the drivin was like on our three other trips down this road. “Well,” I sigh. “At least you get to drive on the ‘right’ side of the road in Italy.”

—--/-/—--

“See? I told you you’d fit.”

“Alright man, you did,” I admit to the muppet.

“Come on, give it up…”

“What?” I’m not laughing, I promise. “Is she a smooth ride? I don’t know, man, why don’t yeh start her up ‘n find out?”

“Well there is that. So yeah,” he says as he pulls out of the car park and up to the mouth of the hotel driveway. “It’s to the left, right?”

“Em, yeah. Yes, the city of Naples is still in the general direction of left. Like the other three times we’ve done this road together.”

He rolls his eyes, and all is right and well with the world. Until the moment he pulls out onto the road. Then I’m brought up quick by the realization that between us we know fuck all about the convertible Mini Cooper. “Wait, where’s the GPS on her, for the flat’s address?”

“I dunno, check the screen thing.” So helpful, yer man Simon is.

“Do you even have an Italian driver’s license? Or insurance? I love this guy. How’ve yeh managed to live this long?” I pause for an answer, but none is forthcoming. “I mean, fucksake, Simon. You called someone to buy you a car and suddenly you’re on the road to Naples. Do you even know where the directionals are? Or like, the wipers? Should I be concerned for my safety?”

“Shoosh. Don’t jinx us,” he sternly admonishes me. “Do you need to have registration in Italy? Or insurance? I don’t know. Italy doesn’t really strike me as a big insurance-y type of country.”

“Fair point. But I take it you have….whatever, I dunno, papers and all that?” How is he like this?

“Don’t know. What’s in the glove box?” He makes a flappy gesture in the general direction of my knees.

“How are you like this? Were you actually born like this, or did it come with fame and wealth?”

“You mean, was I actually born a flaming asshole, or just become one?”

“Meh. Yeah ok,” I shrug. “We’ll go with that. So, what’ll it be?”

“Ow. Straight for the throat, Delaney.” His tone is recriminating as he protects his throat with both hands. “Uncool, man. Uncool.”

I’m flipping through the owner’s manual. Before long I’ve programmed everything, located the GPS, found Simon’s Only In Italy playlist, and even found the button to pop the bonnet. “There you go. It’s workin now.” I toss the manual in the glove box.

“What’s working?” he asks.

I shrug. “Everything, man. Everything.”

He barks out a laugh, the grumpy fuck, and I realize I’m laughing as well.

I plug in the address for the flat and immediately the voice pumping out the speakers is a woman speaking Italian. So I’m maniacally fumbling with it again, while Simon drives on in a fit of laughter.

“Aw, come on! Let’s see how we do in Italian,” he gasps out.

“Fucksake. See how we do in Italian.” Shaking my head.

“No, seriously. Let’s hear what she has to say, this ummmmm, what should we call her - Maria! Because obviously.”

“Certo.” That gets me another laugh.

“Santa Maria, Holy Madonna, show us the way, in Italiano,” Simon pleads in a truly horrendous Italian accent. “I am so happy right now.”

He says it with a laugh. Such a thing to so easily roll off the tongue. Fella I met a few months ago, I never would have pictured bein happy, let alone noticing it, naming it, declaring it. Nice to see. Unexpected, know what I mean?

“I don’t trust you when you’re quiet that long, Delaney.”

“Hm?”

“Exactly.”

Am I missing something?

“Ok, so.” He clears his throat. “We know who I am. Who are you? Let’s hear it. Who is Billy Delaney?”

Aw, man. Serious? “How long we got?” Please don’t make me.

“How would I know?” he shrugs. “Maria’s speaking your language, not mine.”

“Fair enough.” I hit play, hoping the music will make the conversation trail off from there. But of course it doesn’t, because this is Simon. Si. Certo.

“What. Do you have some horrible second identity thing going on? Are you really even Irish? Truth time, Delaney.”

“You show me yours, I’ll show you mine?”

“Yeah, ok,” says the cheeky monkey.

“Oh,” I answer, not sure how else to dodge Simon’s inquisition. Uh, erm….. “Soooo, what mate? What do you want to know?” I ask, though truthfully I wish he’d just let it go.

“Is your name really Billy Delaney, and are you actually even from Ireland at all?”

“Yes.”

“Boring.”

“Brief,” I counter.

“Obtuse,” he counters.

“Si.”

“Oh my god, Billy. So where are you from?”

“Ireland.”

He looks around us rapidly. “Is she going to start speaking Italian? Cuz we just passed Ercolano.”

“Already?”

“Yeah! I know, right? Time flies when you’re torturing someone for information. So should I panic?”

“Nah,” I reassure him. “We've a bit more road before we turn aside. Maria can sleep on.”

“Alright. But I swear to God, Billy. If you don’t start coughing up some details, I'm serious, I will pull this car over. Do I have to pull this car over, young man?”

“Wow, that’s forceful.” Cos it is. “Ow!” I flinch when he swats my shoulder with a backhand. “Fine, ye bastard. My name is actually Lola, but I go by Billy Delaney. And I’m only mostly joking. One of the summer cousins I used to play soccer with couldn’t say William when we were little. So for a few months every year, I was Lola. There. Was that not juicy enough for yeh?”

“Charming. But from that I got these few details: 1. You have cousins. Conceivably fertile ground. We could continue that way. 2. You play soccer, and you call it soccer. Isn’t that illegal outside the US? No- don’t answer that. I’m not finished. 3. You go someplace where there are cousins to play soccer with in summer. Are we even still in Ireland?”

Em. I just sort of sit here and wait.

“And you really don’t want to talk about this, do you?”

“You are so easily distracted,” I tease. “No, but seriously, here’s some details for yeh. I’m 27. Left Ireland at 18, after graduating culinary school, and was sent out to do my apprenticeship. That was at a manor house near Galway,” I say, wrapping up the conversation.

“And…..”

“That’s not enough?” I thought that was a fair bit of information, to be honest.

“Do I have to turn this car around, young man?”

“I fear I might be missin some essential cultural reference here, mate.”

“Don’t distract me with your distractions, Delaney. Feed me.”

And that’s when Maria tells us to turn left.

—--/Simon/—--

I can’t fuckin believe that there are Irish pubs in Italy. Nor can I believe I’m in one. I mean, where do real Italians go to watch soccer? This can’t be right.

“All right?” Billy asks the bartender.

“Howeyeh,” says the man back to him, and Billy’s eyes go comically wide.

Next thing I know, I’m bored stiff, pretending to find the intricacies of European football interesting with a Welsh guy named Barry.

And whoa, turns out Billy’s day-to-day accent is pretty washed out in comparison to the thickness of his accent when he’s speaking to his new BFF. They’re speaking so fast that I can’t understand a word through their accents and grammatical errors. Welsh is so much easier.

That is, until I hear a voice disturbingly similar to Billy’s, requesting a Bud.

I swing back around in time to see Billy’s new BFF nod at him and begin turning toward the draft beers.

“No! Wait,” I wave. “He’s only joking,” I say, emphatically shaking my head no.

“Oh,” the Irish bartender looks back to Billy in surprise. “Were you?”

What, he thinks I’m lying? “Course he was! Certo.”

“Why ‘of course’?!” Billy turns on his barstool to face me. “What the fuck, Simon?”

“Sorry if I fucked up your joke, dude, but don’t drag it out, ok?” I say under my breath.

Disparaging other people’s beer of choice is like a national pastime in Brooklyn, because it frequently employs irony, and we are naturally good at it from birth. Don’t blame him, he’s new.

“I’ll take that Bud,” Billy reiterates. “Ta, mate.” The barkeep returns his nod and goes about the business of it.

“Billy? We’ve talked about this. You swore you’re Irish. Were you lying to me? Are you a lying liar who lies?”

“Why do yeh say that?”

“Because you can’t – you’re not – you’re not, like, allowed to drink bad beer when you’re Irish. Isn’t that illegal? Or fatal, or something?”

The big ape is just lazing back against the bar, sipping his pint of piss beer, looking at me in amusement.

“You’re like a caricature of yourself sometimes, Simon, d’yeh know what I mean?”

“Fuckin- What?! That’s not very nice! I’m outraged.”

“You should see yerself, mate. Yeh look like your face is about ready to split down the middle and outrage’ll start pourin out like lava from the fissures.”

I stop and cock my head at him. “That was both specific and descriptive. Nice one. But that said, how dare you! I demand an apology.” I’m trying really hard to keep a straight face. He has no intention of making it easy for me.

“Apologize? For what?” He gives me a cock-eyed grin. Oh look, his cock eyes are doing that twinkly thing again.

“You have offended my good taste and have let down your countrymen and native soil. Or water or whatever it is that makes all beer taste better in Ireland. The least you could do is the decent thing and apologize to your countrymen, and me, and then hide it in your jacket where no one can see you sneaking sips!”

He laughs because he thinks I’m joking.

“Do you just not like beer at all? And that’s why you don’t order the good stuff?” I prod.

“Simon, you are such a snob,” he says, and goes right on twinkling.

“Correct. And if you’re going to drink cheap beer, for god’s sake, order PBR and salvage at least some of your self respect.”

“Do you know this man?” the bartender asks Billy. “Is he harassin yeh?”

Billy is now laughing so hard that he’s almost fallen off his stool.

“We know each other,” I reassure the barkeep. “Don’t know how long that’ll last, all considered, though. Check back for updates.” I raise my pint of Guinness in respect.

“It’s czech. Budvar,” the man informs me.

“Ah, no! Why’d yeh tell him, mate!” Billy raises his hands theatrically. I’m telling you, theatre school. “Yeh just had to put him out of my misery, yeah?”

“And my misery,” says the man.

—--/-/—--

Ok, so what is it with the whole pub drunkenly singing “oh-ay-oh-ay” at the top of their drunken lungs, sloshin beer out of their pint glasses, whenever Europeans play soccer. Mebbe they sing it in Southmerica, too. Butwhatevercuz I don’ really care.

If you can’t – beat em then join em. Thassmymott, um, -o. Thassmy motto. Motto.

Where’s Billy? I can’t see him. If thissperson would get out of the frickin way. He’s all backed up against my face’n I can’t see. Anything. Nothin to see here, folks. Move along, people, move along.

Where’s Billy? Oyeah, right right right. Right here in my face.

I figure it’ll be easier to keep track of him if I hold onto his belt loop. Or a pocket or something. Yeah, I’m just gonna hang on to his pocket.

Pocket.

I like the word pocket. Lossa hard consnits that pop. Pop.

Pop.

I like the word pop. It sounz like it pops. And it’s the same backwards and forwards an’itsall about the lips. Pop ’ing.

What? Where’s he going? I’m trailing after him with my hand in his pocket. He keeps pullin it out and I keep puttin it back in. Oth’wise I’m gonna get lost and then where would I be? Huh? I wouldn’t even know!

“Oh! Now I know where we are! We’re on the block where we’re were where gonna sleep.” If make it up th’stairs. But Billy’s helping. He’s nice like that.

“You’re nice like that,” I say with a big smile. “And you‘re funny lookin.”

Wait.

“Oops! I mean yerlookin funny at me right now. Whass funny? ‘m’I funny? ‘r’Juss funny lookin?”

I crack myself up. Like in real life, cuz I’m laughing. Right now. Sometimes iss hard to stop laughing but I’ll be ok.

“Billy. Billy! Hey, Billy. What’re you doing? Tryin to get in my pants? That tickles! Oh, hey! Did we win? I mean, I don’really care - just wonren.”

Hey! Tickles! “Stop that! How’dyou know I don’t wanna wear those? I’ll take ‘em off when I feel like it. Prollymaybe take ‘em off tomorrow. Hey! I was wearing that! And that!”

He’s very pushy. “You’re very pushy. Stop pushing!”

I land on the bed and it’s like fluffy clouds of teddybears. “K, fine. I’ll go to bed, jeez.” Alls I wanna do is bury my face in pillow, but can’t breathe when I do that.

“Don’t close the door all the way, Ma. And leave the hall light on, K? g’Night, love you too.”

————/-/————

Masterlist || ao3 || Prev || Next

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#simon x billy #year of the otp #robert sheehan #simon lewis #billy delaney #crossover #robert sheehan character fic #the mortal instruments fanfic #the mortal instruments #tmi #the mortal instruments movie #the mortal instruments: city of bones #me and mrs jones #bbc me and mrs jones #tmi fanfic #year of the otp 2023 #june #chapter 6 #where’s the helipad? #pinned post #pin

[marvin-wtf]

✨HANNAH MONTANA TICKLE HEADCANONS✨

¿Why make Headcanons from an old Disney Channel series? The question here is… ¡¿WHY NOT?! It's one of my favorite series even today, and of course I have tk headcanons that I haven't had the chance to talk to anyone. I recently found this community, so…here it goes! I hope you like it.

P.S: I comment about my bad English, I use a translator, this is not my first language, sorry :(

Miley Stewart | Hannah Montana ⭐

Ler

Well, clearly he's going to tickle you until he finds your weak points, once he finds them he'll exploit that area until he notices you choking.

Normally I wouldn't use teasing and tickle talk, but with his girlfrien-EHEM best friend of his Lilly is an exception.

He uses tickling as a way to make someone who needs it feel better, although he would also use it to get some gossip or information that interests him, he would do it by gently stinging the ribs and then inserting his fingers.

His favorite victim for tickle fights is clearly Lilly, she loves to surprise tickle him, though she would never mind doing a little to Oliver to punish him after saying one of her stupid things.

Lee

Its most sensitive points are the sides, as soon as you squeeze them it is already squealing and twisting.

In her childhood, she was always teased by Jackson in sudden bouts of tickling due to the difference in size, at least growing up, her brother would think twice before doing it again.

She secretly loves tickling, when her exes tickled them, with her look she cried out not to stop.

Oh no...

Here it comes...

MARVIN IS GOING TO TALK ABOUT HIS FAVORITE CHARACTER, DON'T LET HIM DO IT

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Lilly Truscott 🐕

Ler

It adores to moving the fingers opposite to his victims as form of anticipation, of this form, the fact was that it discovered the foible of Miley.

She loves tickling teasing, she's an expert at that, she'll make fun of you until you're as red as a tomato.

When she sees her best friend sad, she doesn't hesitate to cheer her up by tickling her until she sees a genuine smile on her face.

DON'T LET HIM TALK ABOUT THIS DON'T LET HIM TALK ABOUT THIS!!! AAAAAHHHH

OHOHOHOHOHOH...

Lee

SHITTTTTT ¡¿WHERE DO I START?! HIS LAUGHTER IS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL, SHE WILL SQUIRM AND ASK YOU TO STOP EVEN THOUGH DOESN'T WANT YOU TO REALLY DO IT.

OH BOY THIS IS MY FAVORITE HEADCANON DO YOU NOTICE THAT VIBE? HE'S A FUCKING GOLDEN RETRIEVER, WHEN HER STOMACH IS TICKLED SHE'S GOING TO MOVE HER LEG AS IF IT WAS A PUPPY RECEIVING CUDDLES, MILEY USUALLY TAKES MUCH ADVANTAGE OF THIS.

HUHUHU, DID I MENTION THE STOMACH IT IS NOT LIKE THAT?  CLEAR THAT IS HIS MOST TICKLISH POINT, SHE WILL HOWL OF THE LAUGH AS A SMALL AND ADORABLE PUPPY.

Of course he's going to kick and bite as soon as he can't stand the tickling, although none of that is on purpose, it's a reflex.

It's not about tickling but did I mention she's a golden retriever puppy? Please just watch every frame of the series, she has a tail and cute ears that always stay up.

HEHEHEHE AN EXTRA BETWEEN THEM TWO, I ADMIT IT, I SHIP THEM WITH ALL MY SOUL, THEY ARE MY OTP, SO FROM HERE WE WILL USE THAT THEY ARE GIRLFRIENDS, OK?

Tell him yes to shut up please…

As I already mentioned in other points, they love tickle fights between the two of them.

The one who starts the fights is usually Miley… and she ends up losing.

Of course, if she manages to attack Lilly's stomach, she will win easily, that's why she knows how to protect that area first of all.

Normally their fights end with both of them laughing slightly as they look into each other's eyes, then they say I love you… and maybe there are kisses involved.

Lilly always manages to stay on top of Miley, don't let the size difference fool you, the blonde puppy is very strong, with a few movements she will manage to subdue her girlfriend.

THEY LOVE AND TICKLE THEMSELVES TOGETHER THE END.

Thanks for reading this, I really should be studying for an exam I need to take in a couple of weeks, but they have me here writing headcanons.

I hope that they should like reading this, I put all my heart.

Anyway, see you soon 😺.

#hannah montana #hannah montana tickle #hannah montana headcanon #lilly truscott #WHY AM I WRITING THIS WHEN I SHOULD BE SLEEPING AAAAAAA #tickle headcanons #tickling headcanons #tickling content #tickling community #tword community #tword blog

[myevilmouse]

If you are still doing the writing asks, 10, 28, and 31!

I am still doing the writing asks, so thank you so much for asking me @das-flamingo! I appreciate the opportunity to share some thoughts and kill some time with you this evening! 😘

10.  Top three favourite fic tropes.

Oh what a fun question!  And I never know what to call things so I went to tv tropes to figure out what my “name kink” as I usually call it is, because that is the first one that came to mind.  According to the ‘net, my name kink is actually the trope “Significant Name Shift” and I SWOON for this and love reading and writing it.  My OTP Luke/Mara and my evil OTP Thryce both fit so well into this. 

For Luke and Mara it’s when she goes from “Skywalker” to “Luke” but it REALLY is fun with the Grand Admiral and Governor because you have levels of significant name shift here, really.  You can drop titles (from “Governor Pryce” to “Pryce”) and then you get to move to ��Arihnda” from there! 

And it works with Thrawn and all the ladies, really, they have to deal with his rank or if it’s a fraternization ship, we get to drop Ensign or Commander or Commodore or whatever I LOVE IT!  I always always make it a bit deal how Thrawn says Pryce’s name and how weird she finds saying his without the title and I adore it so much.  OK I stop gushing now. Clearly a fave.

Second, I have to say “there was only one bed” although I haven’t written it much (I combined it with “huddling for warmth”, which is a classic for a reason!), in my fic Catalysts.  This trope just melts my butter.

And I guess third, I will say language tropes.  I love languages and work "fake" foreign language as much as possible into my fic, it’s so damn sexy, I call it my language kink.  So you will find lots of Cheunh, obviously, but also I have written fics featuring Ryl, Sith, Mando’a, Aqualish, and probably some more.  Languages are SO FUN I love the nuance and depth they can bring to a relationship, particularly language learning and cultural differences uncovered through language.

28.  Any writing advice that works for you and you feel like sharing?

I love this question and also hate it, because it reminds me of how different we all are and how useless I personally find most so-called “writing advice” to be.  But I humbly offer the following:

First, my best advice for writing is “just do it.”  If you have time and the inclination, write!  Sit down and get started and see what happens.  As a pantser, that is what makes the most sense to me.  No need for every detail, even a plot, just like “I’m going to write about X for a while” and GO!

The second piece of advice I have is “read”.  And, snob that I am, allow me to suggest you read the 'good' stuff, the “literature” that wins awards, the stuff that is on book lists for a reason.  You might be surprised how absolutely gorgeous language can be (I tend to love the classics and bemoan the quality of most popular fiction today) but also how gripping and beautiful those books can be with pure storytelling.  But definitely also read the fun stuff, the stuff you like that is “beneath” the critics or curricula.  I absolutely adore some horribly written books, but whenever people ask me how I learned to write I basically have to admit I owe it all to the amazing writers I grew up reading.  The more you read, the better you will write, I am 100% certain of this as an equation.

Oh and a bonus piece of advice:  feel free to ignore ALL advice!  Do what works for you, whatever that may be.  If you need moodboards or outlines or index cards or playlists or dark corners or a set schedule or whatever, that’s all perfect and valid and don’t let anyone tell you differently.  If you do something different every time, great!  If you hate to read but love to write, go for it!  No one knows what works best for you better than you!

31.  What was the most difficult fic for you to write (but in the end you made it)?

Most fics, thankfully, are not a chore, but a pleasure to get out of my brain.  I am so lucky that my muse is an ever-present, sometimes uncooperative bitch, but I do have an answer for this question!  Command Performance.  It was my first published fic on AO3 for Luke/Mara, my first foray into the “modern” world of fanfiction, and I wrote it as a gift for a very talented @teagrl who also generously served as a supportive cheerleader and demanding beta.  There were some pushes and pulls along the way (particularly setting up the scenario) and I learned a great deal from the experience.  I wanted to write a non-con-esque fic (in this case a fantasy Mara’s handsome husband is willing to fulfill) and apart from the darker themes that go along with that, I had never had a beta before and so it was a whole new world of edits and suggestions and brilliant ideas that made it challenging and much more work and time than I had anticipated.  Then of course there was the absolute terror of posting it once it was ready and wondering what would happen.  Thankfully what happened is I made some amazing fandom friends, was blessed by generous readers who supported me, and here I am 100 years later with a tumblr and everything and getting awesome asks from people like you!  And this was a great selection of questions, thank you so much again @das-flamingo! You agree with me right Luke?

The writing asks are here if anyone else would like to ask!

#fanfic is for fun #asks #i like asks #tropes #myfic #my thoughts #fandom friends #luke/mara #NAME KINK #language kink #fanfic

[xdestinyisall]

kingalfrcd 🥺

SEND A URL AND I WILL ANSWER THE FOLLOWING;

@kingalfrcd

Do I Follow Them?: WOULD BE THE LAST PERSON NOT TO FOLLOW!

Why Did I Follow Them?: BECAUSE HE IS MY KING! And yes, I write in capital letters because that's how big my excitement is. Because he is Alfred, I love his character (and her mun), from the first moment I saw the blog my heart wanted to roleplay with that Alfred.

Do We Role Play?: I am too offended by that question, OF COURSE YES! A THOUSAND TIMES YES!

Do I Want To Role Play With Them: From the first moment I saw your account, THE FIRST INSTANT. And see me here some time later with a thousand plots and more to come.

An AU Idea For Our Muses: Mmm... Ok, here you go. An AU where Uhtred is the king and Alfred is the warrior, although they both keep their personalities 8) Would it change much? Who would be the first to take the next step? And another one would be...An AU where they were both happy but Alfred for fear of being happy and being found out breaks Uhtred's heart (and very ugly, so he wouldn't come back because he KNOWS TOO WELL he would), releases him from his oath, and exiles him from Wessex. Uhtred is crushed but leaves.... He finds himself wandering, even abandoning his men, taking only his sons and daughter with him. Alfred managed to break it... The problem arises when the Danes learn that Uhtred is no longer there to protect Wessex, the people search for Uhtred but no one finds him. The Danes arrive in Wessex, taking the city once again. And surprise, surprise... When Alfred escapes he returns to the marshes where Uhtred was living, seeming to be their place of reunion. What would happen in that reunion? 

A Song For Our Muses: Forbidden Love - Madonna

Do I Ship Our Muses?: OF COURSE THEY ARE! THEY ARE MY FAVORITE OTP! I LIVE FOR THEM, I BREATHE FOR THEM, THEY GIVE ME FEELINGS AT A THOUSAND PER HOUR.And when they're not around that day, I miss them a lot but x'd I'm weak. It's so much to the degree that today I got a laugh when a friend told me, I hardly ever log in but whenever I do I see your replies with a certain Alfred and I laughed so hard because it's true xd the otp comes out lol.  I also like him with Skade and Gisela but Uhtred, is Uhtred his true love :)

What I Think About The Mun: I have already told you many times but I love you very much, I will always be grateful to you for being so kind to me even though we speak another language. And I love how you fill me with feelings, and you fill me with so much love, let me tell you that you make me miss you! But I'll always be here waiting for you, no matter if it's hours, days, weeks or months <333 You know for a fact that you can always come talk to me about anything, I love to share with you all our ideas and plots or improvised memes, fill us completely. mun is worth a thousand! She deserves all the love in the world <333 

Overall Opinion: THE BEST OTP IN THE WORLD! LET ALFRED AND UHTRED BE HAPPY FOR FIVE MINUTES. In their room they share every night ;) although they deserve their drama too. And their jokes or their BIG EGOS FIGHTS. In short, I LOVE THEM SO MUCH. P.D. Apologies in advance for filling you with Alhtred's stuff in your absence  because I found a lot of things ;)

Blog Rate: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 10000000000000000000000

#kingalfrcd #ooc: can't you tell I love alfred and allison too much? because I do; I LOVE THEM TOO MUCH!

[clarespace]

oh god, i just saw the official mv and my heart is screaming. it’s also 2am and im gonna gush about pete and ae with quick and dirty gifs, so watch out: 

ugh, i love these scenes so much. wait, i love every scene, but these first ones are so important. ae is presented as the typical confused guy but get this, he’s so soft and expressive with his feelings, and he’s. not. ashamed. of. it. quite a contrast with pete, whose been internalising his shame. the wonderful thing with ae is that he’s so honest and direct. he says what he feels and thinks. more importantly, his actions coincide with what he says. often, that just doesnt happen in bl stories. the guy feels something for another guy? he goes out with girls and avoids the guy, etc. not ae. the boy just dives right in after a few moments of self-reflection. what an awesome dude. 

and pete. our sweet, shy pete is saying, while looking into ae’s eyes, that he’s liked ae from the beginning. how cute is that? but more than cute, there’s the impression that he’s reached the point where he feels really safe and secure with ae that he can openly say this. wasnt it only a few episodes ago where he was still worried about bothering ae, and ae has done so many things to affirm pete’s trust in him that they’ve reached this point. which episode this will be, who knows, but they get here, hopefully with as little fuss as possible. 

look. at. THAT. that’s one of the cutest things i’ve ever seen and it just screams ‘couple in love’. i gotta say, the body direction in this drama has been SPOT ON by the director and the actors. they’re horribly in love and it should SHOW. they should have their own couple language, their sweet gestures. see how tender ae is, and how content pete looks, especially with the way he closes his eyes when he finally rests his head on ae’s shoulder. just...the way their bodies are positioned is so so so good. boys sit like that! and the way they are subtly turned towards each other shows openness and interest...hear me heave my biggest, happiest sigh. 

idk what happens in this moment except i want more of it. study date? sleep over? moving in together?? okay, the last one is too soon but i have a weakness when my otp spend time sleeping with each other and doing their nightly routines and just living life in love. also, ae, dont be extra. pete is really cute when he’s asleep but that’s no reason to look at him as if he’s literally doing cartwheels and you’re so proud of him...ugh, fine, i take it back. look at him with love ALL THE TIME.

ok it’s so hilarious to me that pete was smiling his dumb ‘ai ae’ smile and then the next frame he’s all serious as ae pushes him down slowly on the bed. also. fooling around in broad daylight? i approve because it’s so ridiculous when dramas only seem to portray that sex happens at night, in the dark. definitely not. also, they could just be cuddling here and i wont object to that either. ae just really dives into this whole thing, huh? 

once again, no context except that ae is so happy and pleased to see pete. get you a man who looks at pete the way ae does. look at the fondness in those eyes. he’s so expressive, i love it. kudos to the actor for his portrayal! also, pete looks...hesitant? surprised? that ae is waving at him? and like he’s leaving in a hurry? hmmmm also i love a guy in a football kit so much

wow guys, just show off your love, huh? like i said, one of my favourite things is watching a couple actually be a couple. what they do, how they act, their own gestures, their rituals and it looks like ae and pete are the kind of ridiculously soft, touchy feely, sweet af couple who love to spend as much time as possible...and that happens to be my all time weakness, my ultimate goal. it’s like, pete is either making a joke or telling him something funny and ae gives that little huff and everything is smothering me with joy. 

i am surprised, though, by the implication that they spend a lot of nights sleeping together. it’s something i dont come across often in asian dramas. western, yes, when they’re dating and spend days and nights in their own world, and this is what i see happening with ae and pete. it’s modern and new and accurate. or am i just surprised because in kdramas they dont even hold hands and they flinch whenever they look each other in the eye? maybe. 

they’re so freaking DOMESTIC and i am so here for that shit. who sleeps on what side of the bed? who wakes up first? do they sleep all cuddled up?(remembering ae sleeping on top of pete, that’s a big YES) who makes breakfast? who fixes the bed? I NEED TO KNOW

hands down my favourite moment. not only is it a great shot, it’s just so...normal. they’re just ordinary boys with an extraordinary love that they’re not afraid to show. look at that body language. the familiarity, the softness, the smoothness of the action. is this the end where they’ve fully accepted each other? told each other all of their stories? cleared away the misunderstandings and are now just basking in the joy of being together?

also, it’s quite telling that ae is being presented as the top. now, i do have my own preferences for top and bottom but i dont really care who does it, tbh, and it doesnt matter. you could have your own headcanons about it and that’s fine as long as you’re not being toxic. i’ve seen so many people refuse to read/watch something if this or that person is placed in a specific role. on that note, i like how they’re showing that the one who’s physically larger isn’t the top, as is the case most of the time. they’re going there. 

there are a few more moments but now it’s 3:30am as i type this, my eyelids are getting heavy (even though my heart is still going kyaa kyaa) and im gonna end this with the two biggest things that the drama is going right with pete and ae: 

1. you dont have to be a jerk and use tricks to make someone fall in love/pay attention to you. 

2. being soft and in love is nothing to be ashamed of. 

i hope that there wont be the usual misunderstandings with the girl, or unnecessary, or break ups. i’ve noticed some people say that pete and ae dont have a complex story and therefore their love isnt complex or strong, and i’d just like to correct that assumption. just because a love story isnt full of angst and bloodshed doesnt make it a lesser love, just like a love story full of hardship and pain makes it somehow more worthy. there is nothing romantic about pain or break ups or messy love triangles. yes, these things happen because the characters are idiots and make such choices that lead to these things, but ae and pete seem to make choices that are good and healthy for them and there is nothing wrong with that. there is nothing wrong with falling in love, getting that person, and living a happy life. it’s so rare to get this sweet, soft gem of a love story between two sweet, soft boys. let’s enjoy it and not wish them to break up or go through silly misunderstandings. if that happens, then it happens logically and not just to throw unnecessary angst in there. 

happiness is not boring. we’ve (or at least, i have) been waiting for so long for a main couple who gets that smooth-sailing love while the secondary ones go through all the mess and have that role model of good, healthy relationships as the focus. again, not saying they should be in a perfect, conflict free relationship but the meddling third parties? the miscommunication? nothing in their personalities makes those things possible long-term, tbh. ae would just be blunt about it and tell the truth. pete would probably agonise a little bit and then ask. if you find dark, angsty love stories as your thing, good for you, but dont wish for that to happen just for the sake of it. 

please let them be happy. look at these adorable children! they should only know happiness and cuddles and sweet kisses.

come talk to me about ae and pete! i am so down with talking about them!

(seeing as there are several volumes of the novel, it would seem that pete and ae do go through some stuff but they remain steadfast and true, as much as i can gather. just no avoidable bullshit, please.)

(also 4am. if you read all of this word regurgitation, thank you and im sorry lmao)

#love by chance the series #love by chance #ae/pete #pete/ae #they are the cutest #sweetness #most adorable couple #PLEASE PROTECT THEM #they are too precious for this world #dont fuck them up dont fuck them up