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I keep seeing posts giving out about people shipping various M/M pairings and bemoaning the fact that people arenât writing F/F pairings.
Which is fine, but if youâre that invested in the idea, I canât figure out why more of these same people donât actually go and write more F/F fics to redress this??
Itâs beginning to get on my nerves.
Write what you want to read?
And donât tell other people what to write, they can make their own decisions about what characters interest them?? If they donât feel inclined to write F/F fics - guess what, they donât have to? If they do want to, great! But I doubt they need someone complaining about it to motivate them to do it.
Jasus wanted to make things nice around here for once, especially for the little healer and her room full of plants. It had been difficult trying to sneak his own set of decorations aboard the ship, away from prying eyes and without his boss taking note of his purchases. He hadnât fared so well in that department - the shattering of one of those sparkling globes had given him away - but Reyna had promised to keep her lips shut. It wasnât any of her business anyway, sheâd said.
He watched a million holovids on how to decorate for the holiday season, and it seemed that there was no real set way about it. Whatever looked right to the decorator seemed to be the trend. He unwound the bundles of blue-and-silver-entwined tinsel and applied a liberal amount of clear tape to stick it to the ceiling in parts, allowing the rest to drape just so. The arches were uneven but he still liked how it looked, sparkling against the lights heâd already taped to the shelves that dotted the room. Next were those infernal glass baubles. He thought better of hanging them up from so high, afraid that they would commit suicide and cover the ground in coloured glass. Instead, he decided to place one in each pot, providing Maxâs plants with a little glittery company. Not their intended use, but he was proud heâd come up with the idea all by himself.
He stood back to appreciate his work. The room couldnât be any more shiny, even if he tried! Now it was just a matter of getting her in here to see all of his hard work.
The ship vibrated and an alarm came on in the distance. Were they under attack?
As he burst into the hallway, Reyna sprinted past him and towards the elevator.
âWhatâs up, mum?â he called out to her, always ready to lend aid where it was needed of him.
âSomethingâs blown up near the engines. Best guess, itâs in one of the boiler rooms.â
Boiler rooms? Thatâs where heâŚ
He followed suit, hunched over and going as fast as he could on all fours, and managed to smoosh himself into the freight elevator next to her before the doors slammed shut. He muttered to himself, concerned that his things might have been the cause of all this. He didnât know how he was going to make it up to Reyna or the rest of the crew if heâs broken the ship.
Smoke billowed out from behind the closed door at the end of the hall once the elevator stopped, and the pair continued their hurried pace down the hallway and through it. It smelled of burning, but not the dry tang that followed the charring of fabric and stuffing. No, it was wet and green and moldy.
Reyna snagged an extinguisher from off the wall and hunkered down below the thick clouds of smoke to find the source. Jasus remained where he was, knowing that his large form wasnât going to help matters and he couldnât get low enough to spare himself from a coughing fit anyway.
He heard the rush of the extinguisher being fired - as well as a few choice swear words - before the smoke started to diminish. As did the coughing, though there was another he hadnât heard earlier with the alarms still roaring overhead. Once he poked his head into the room, he discovered the source.
âWhat the hell did you think you were doing?â Reyna barked as she kicked a blackened pot across the room. Max reached out after the tumbling clay vessel, her eyes reddened with tears, most likely from the smoke. A black crispy thing rolled out of the pot and left a long trail of soot and soil behind.
âTrying⌠to spruce the⌠place upâŚâ she managed between the coughs. âIt was a gift⌠and I thoughtâŚâ
âBoiler roomâs no place for plants,â Reyna replied roughly and gathered up the burnt remains in her arms. He passed Jasus without a word, whispering to herself as she headed back to the elevator. Seeing Max standing there by herself, rubbing the sting away from her eyes, reminded Jasus so much of his younger life, when heâd tried to fit in so many times and failed.
A rumbling huff escaped him as he stepped into the room. Most of his things were burned or half-burned, but none of them were costly to replace.
Max hadnât expected him and recoiled, looking for some escape where she wouldnât have to explain what sheâd been trying to do. His large form blocking the doorway hindered that from happening.
âHm. Why is there a hole in my ceiling? It wasnât there when I left.â He poked at a sizable puncture in the metal ceiling with his claw. âThat must have been an impressive explosion.â He half-grinned down at her, hoping his joke would lighten her mood.
âI hear you were tryinâ to make my place look nice. You didnât have to go and do that.â He extended a spotted arm towards her to show that he wasnât angry. It was just a boiler room, just bedsheets and pillows. None of them were as important as his friendship with her.
Her tears were refreshed as she collapsed against his arm. Jasus allowed her to have her cry before he cradled her against his chest, his form shaking against him.
âI just wanted to get you a nice plant and everything, to make your room look nice. I left it too close to the pipes and⌠they got too hot⌠andâŚâ
âShhh. Would it make you feel any better if I said I had th'same idea?â
âTo set my room on fire?â Her wide, tear-filled eyes staring up at him almost smothered the chuckles in his chest.
âWhat? No, I meant⌠how about we go take a look instead of me explaininâ. Itâll make you feel better.â
She nodded silently against him.
âHeh, just donât criticize it too deeply. Sâmy first time doinâ something like this.â
Merry Christmas, neyzilla! It was a pleasure and an honour to work on your gift, especially when I saw your request. It was difficult to write, knowing that Nema will never get to see it so I hope I managed to make the both of you proud with this little ficlet of your characters.
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Literally nobody is going to get this version, but I had a laugh making this: Snapeâs Worst Memory if written in Irish slang⌠inspired by this hilarious post.
Snapeâs Morto Memory
James Potter messed up his bleedin hair. He was a bit of a ride. He looked at the teacher, who was a muppet, and then at his mates, who were massive.
Sirius, who was a complete ride, was lounging back in his chair, looking like pure class. He was so gorgeous, yer wan looked like she wanted to lob the gob with him. But he didnât seem to have noticed.
James was now doodling LE on a scrap of paper, (scarlet for ya!). After the exam papers were nabbed by yer man, whatâs his face, the teacher, James crossed out the LE (morto!) and stuffed his things back in his yoke.
âDid ye like question 10, Moony?â shouted Sirius, who was a bit of a langer at times, even if a fucking cute one.
âHappy out,â said Remus, who was a massive nerd. âOne: he's sitting on my chair. Two: he's wearing my clothes. Three: his name's Remus Lupin.â
(That was pure class, cause he was a werewolf, get me?)
Peter didnât laugh cause he was a bit of a gowl.
"I got the snout shape, the pupils of the eyes and thetufted tail,' he said, like a total eejit, 'but I couldn't think what else - â
âJaney Mac! What kind of a gobshite are you, Wormtail?â said James impatiently. âYou leg it round the gaff with a werewolf once a month -â
Then Sirius went on about doing deadly in the exams like he was secretly a massive swot. And James started messing with the bleedinâ snitch, like a total eejit.
"Be dog wide of that ball, will ya?â said Sirius angrily, he was in a huff, the moody bollix. James made a class catch and Peter (who was a bit of a head the ball) whimpered. âBefore Wormtail loses the ragâ.
âCâmere to me till I tell ya, Padfoot,â said James quietly. âLook who it is, that article.â
âDeadly buzz,â said Sirius quietly.
Snape, who was a massive gobshite, put away his stuff and the lads went after him.
âOi, latchico?â said James loudly.
Snape nearly had a conniption, with an awful puss on him, like he was expecting an attack: he dropped his bag, his wand was halfway into the air when James shouted, âWould ya get off the stage!â and the gobshiteâs wand landed in the grass beside him.
âLeave him alone, the state of ya!â Lily Evans screamed at him. âChill the boots!â
âStory, Evans?â said James, like an eejit (scarlet for ya!)
"You think you've a big mickey,' she said coldly. 'But you're just a complete langer, a bullying gobshite, Potter! Leave him ALONE!â
"I will if you go and get hammered with me, Evans,' said James quickly.
âI will, ya,â sneered Lily, who obviously thought he was a bit of a dose.
Then the Snape fecker called her a yokeymebob (JASUS, the state of yer man!) and James was going bananas.
âFine, I wonât bother me arse next time,â Lily told Snape.
Then she told him to feck away off and their friendship was banjaxed. And same with the other git.
'Whatâs her problemo?â said James.
âReading between the lines, I'd say she thinks you're a bit of a tool, and a chancer, mate,' said Sirius.
"Dowtcha boy,' said James, who looked like he was in bits but pretending he was grand. âAh Jasus, sheâs defo not going to shift me, is she?â
âNo. And no chance of a ride, ever, forget about it,â said Sirius. âLetâs go and have some savage craic with Snape.â
âHappy out,â said James, who was scarlet.
For an English translation:
Who needs the Oxford English Dictionary when you have these useful and colourful Irish expressions at your disposal?