#I love writing dark gives no fucks jon

[bookuce]

Fools Rush In -- Roman Reigns

SUMMARY: Nessa wasn’t looking for love, neither was Joe, but when you know, you know.  Isn’t it funny how fate works?

*DISCLAIMER: This is a multi-part series. I do not own any of the characters in the writing except for the OCs. The book uses actual names of wrestlers. Josh is Jey, Jon is Jimmy, Trinity is Naomi, Joe is Roman. The book is not realistic and does not take place during real events, but some actual events (matches, storylines) could pop up in the story eventually. I DO NOT GIVE ANYONE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REPOST MY WRITINGS ANYWHERE. THAAAAAANKS. *

PAIRING: Roman Reigns x Black OC

TROPE: Love At First Sight

WARNINGS: N/A

WORD COUNT: 1,352

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER TWO

Vanessa got home at twelve that evening, her feet aching from standing for four hours. At the door, she’d kick her heels off, letting the soles of her feet sink into the cool hardwood floors. Her home was dark, dimly lit by a nature screensaver on her television. A soft sigh slips her lips as she peels her clothes off. Each article of clothing would fall to the floor with a soft thud, but she doesn’t bother to retrieve them. She makes a mental note to do it later. Now she stood there in her underwear, her hands on her hips. She’d twist her mouth to the side as if deep in thought. But really, she was just trying to decompress.

Slowly, she walked through the living room toward her bedroom. The cold air of her apartment was starting to raise goosebumps on her skin, her body urging her to find warmth. She enters the dark room, blindly feeling around her. “Alexa, turn on the bedroom lights.” She commands tiredly. A blue light would flash from her nightstand before the lamps on the tables on either side of her bed turned on. They would emit a soft yellow light, giving her sight once more. There, on her bed, was an oversized hoodie. She’d snatch it up, quickly throwing it over her body. The hoodie was three sizes bigger than her and swallowed her frame, but boy, was it a comfortable piece of clothing. 

She’d sigh again once she was in it, her body warming up. She turns to exit her room, now on her way to the kitchen. She had a pint of salty caramel ice cream calling her name. She enters the kitchen, turning the light on behind her. Her hand would wrap around the silver handle of her freezer before pulling the door open. White light and visibly cold air pour from the fridge, caressing her bare legs upon exit. She spots the pint, snatching it from the top shelf and closing the door behind her. On her way out of the kitchen, she grabs a spoon. Nessa had decided she was passing out on the couch tonight with a romance movie. She plops on the couch, her legs curling into the enormous hoodie. She flips off the lid of the ice cream and stabs her spoon into the frozen dessert. 

Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!

Nessa’s phone lit up from the cushion next to her. She reaches over, grabbing the device. On the screen was an unknown number. Her thumb swipes across the screen, and she taps the speakerphone button. “Hello?” She answers, tossing the phone back on the couch. She scoops ice cream onto the spoon, shoving it into her mouth. 

“Nessa, hey!” Calls a voice. That voice sounds familiar. She pauses.

“Who’s this?” She asks. 

“It’s Joe—from the club earlier. Did I catch you at a bad time?” Fuck. Quickly, she places her pint on the coffee table, snatching her phone up again.

“No,” She lies. “Not at all! What’s up?” She asks.

Joe was standing outside of the nightclub waiting for an Uber. He had grown bored, and the loud music and drunken people bumping into him had irritated him. He was now on his way back to his hotel room. 

“I ditched my cousins.” He confesses, glancing down the busy street. “I can’t keep up with them. I’m an old man.” Nessa silently snorts. Though he and the Twins were close in age, he always felt older compared to them. Where he was quiet and reserved most days, they were loud and outgoing. Jon and Josh are the life of the party wherever they go.

“Yeah, right. How old are you?” She asks.

“Thirty-five.” He answers. 

“Gross.” She says, earning a laugh from him.

“I know, right? I’m embarrassed to say it.” He jokes, getting a laugh out of her in return. “What about you?” He asks.

“Thirty-two.” She replies. Joe mentally sighs in relief. He hoped she wasn’t too much younger than him. “So where are you going if you’re leaving your cousins behind?” She asks.

“Back to my hotel room.” He answers honestly. He pressed his lips together in a thin line, slightly scowling as he fought to continue talking. Just ask her, he thought. The worst thing she could say is no. “Unless you’d like to get breakfast somewhere?” His face relaxes. See, that wasn’t so hard, Joe. “D-Do you like Waffle House? I can find the closest to you and meet you there.” She taps her phone screen, looking at the time. Twelve-forty-five.

“I’m already in my pajamas.” She answers. Joe’s shoulders dropped at her answer. Despite the sound of music, shouting, and laughing in the background, it was silent on his end. Nessa held the phone for a few moments, waiting for a response. 

“Right,” He breathes, glancing down at his suede shoes. Wait, that wasn’t a no. He perks up again, now ready to approach the proposal differently. “How about this? I’ll put on my pajamas, order Waffle House to my hotel, send an Uber to get you, and we’ll have breakfast on the roof?” He suggests. “It would be quieter,” He adds. “Probably safer.”

Nessa scrunched her nose, an inquisitive hum coming from her lips. “That ‘probably safer’ doesn’t really sell me, I’m sorry.” She teases. Joe would lift his brows, his eyes slightly widening. 

“Have you been to a Waffle House on a Friday night?” He asks, earning yet another laugh from her. Of course, she has. It was a canon experience for everyone who indulged in the nightlife. “I can assure you no fights will break out, no chairs thrown; only good food and great conversation.” He glances up at the sky, mouthing continually ‘please’ to himself. 

Though it was highly likely, Joe hoped he didn’t come off desperate. He’d apologize a million times over if he did. He just knew he couldn't leave Miami without knowing her. Nessa would bite down on her lip, fighting a smile that was threatening to show. “You drive a hard bargain,” She starts. “I’ll text you my address.” Silently, he celebrates, his fist swinging close to his chest. Passerbys would glance in his direction, causing him to straighten up. He rubs the back of his neck, a smile on his lips. 

“You won't regret it.” He promises.

“I hope not.” She sings, ending the call. She tosses the phone on the couch, immediately bringing her hands to her face. “What the fuck did I just do?” She groans. Nessa stands to her feet, turning to face the couch. She needed to call Isabel. She reaches for her phone but stops when she realizes Isabel would be all for this. She was always urging the woman to live a little. Isabel would remind her that she is in her thirties, unmarried, and has no children. She was quote-unquote wasting her best years playing it safe. If she didn’t do this, she would never hear the end of it from her best friend.

Her phone lights up, and Joe’s number appears on the screen in a text. She grabs the phone, quickly reading over it. 

Maybe: Joe: What’s your go-to?

With the message was a link to a Waffle House menu. “Oh my God.” She sobs, dropping her arm from her face. What have I done, she thought. She might be having a mini panic attack.

While her reaction was disbelief, Joe’s was quite the opposite. “Let’s go!” He whispers to himself, his arms crossing with the quiet cheer—shades of a former football player. A black Tahoe stops before him, turning on its hazard lights. The passenger window comes down, revealing its driver. “Anoa’i?” He asks. 

“Yes, sir.” Joe nods, reaching for the back door when they unlock the vehicle. Once inside the car, a soft grin spread across his face. There were tingles in his fingertips, thanks to the excitement he felt. He’d rub his hands across his lap to rid himself of the feeling. His phone would light up from the seat next to him. He grabs it, his eyes examining the address and order he requested from Nessa.

CHAPTER 3

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A/N: Who doesn't love a late-night update! I'll be trying to write some this weekend. My trip back home threw me off my schedule so bad lol BUT ITS OKAY!!!!! No more trips for the foreseeable future!

🏷️ list: @thesamoanqueen @whatdoeseveryonewant @headoftheetable @mzv11 @southerngirl41 @yana3sworld @wanderingreigns @wrestlingprincess80 @siriuslycee @vebner37 @capswife @astridxxxxxx @alichesmi @tshepisho @scarlettnoir01 @brokenglassslippers @reignsboy19 @sayyestoheav3nn @cyberdejos2 @empressdede @sisinever @truefant4sy @paigereeder @tbmotw @fearlesschimera @venusesworld @usoholic @sageispunk @bebesobrielo @jstarr86 @vibessonvibes @issahyland 

[steviewashere]

🪱🪱Worm Wednesday!!!!!🪱🪱

I was tagged by the lovely @hotluncheddie! Hello, I'm sorry for the rambling mess this is going to be. But I know I missed this like two weeks ago, so bear with me.

Okay, I'm going to try and be normal here. I have, honestly, so many worms in my brain. They're dancing and stomping and I'm just going fucking nuts with how much is in my brain at the moment. And also I took excedrin this morning for my migraine and that had caffeine in it and it's more caffeine than I would normally have—anyway.

Y'all already know one of my brain worms, the whole omega verse sensitive nips omega Steve thing. Which, I will plug the post here because I don't have the energy (yes, I do, but I don't want to echo myself) to share all the craziness about that in one post.

I'm also thinking about young Steve Harrington, which is kudos to this post and lots of people's tweets over on the twitter. I won't go into it, same reasons as the omega verse thing so just...again, bear with me.

But! But the actual brain worms I'm having currently, in this very moment, also have to do with another post I made on here. I want to go more in-depth with, though. So, some days ago, I came across an Instagram Reel that was a clip from the YouTube video interview between Jon Bernthal and Dungeon Master Deborah Ann Woll.

So, brief brief summary of this video is basically: Jon Bernthal says that he wants to play D&D, Deborah Ann Woll then gives him a scenario of walking through the woods and while he's walking he hears snap of twigs, and then she basically prompts him with "What do you do?" And he responds, now I can't remember exactly what he says, but I believe it had something to do with investigating the source of the snapped twigs.

Anyway, the video is excellent and you all should check it out. She basically explains D&D in a way that would make sense to anybody, in the matters of asking a player or a potential player what they'd do in certain scenarios, then bringing in the "rougher" elements such as the History checks or Perception checks in the game.

And I want to write something along the lines of Steve approaching Eddie about D&D. Maybe he wants to play because Dustin keeps bugging him about it, but he's too nervous to accept. Maybe he just wants to know what it's like. Maybe he even wants to be a substitute player one of these days just in case somebody can't show up. Something, y'know, where he's approaching Eddie. But he's really, really confused about where to even begin. He's got a character sheet, he's looking at the manuals loaned to him or he even bought himself, he's looking at all these stats and all these options and he just doesn't know where to begin.

Also, brief intervene here, I would be basing this off of 5e rules because that's what I play and frequently toy with. So...don't be mad at me if I get something "inaccurate for the time". I, first of all, honestly don't care. And second, I was not alive in like 1977 when the game first came out. And there's nobody in my life who played it then or possibly has played it ever outside of 5e. Moving on.

So, he tries to explain his character sheet to Eddie, obviously getting a bit overwhelmed in the process. But Eddie stops him. Says something like, "Hold on, okay? Let's just take a baby step here. I'm going to give you a scenario and then I want you to tell me what you'd do."

And he lays out that same, or even just something similar, to what Deborah Ann Woll gave. (I'm going to base this off of the video. Very original, I am.) So it's something like:

"Okay, you've got a small dagger attached to your belt, it's concealed within a hilt. And on your back, there's a bow and a quiver—or a pouch—of arrows. You're walking through the woods. It's dark, heavy clouds hanging overhead, moon obstructed, you can barely see your surroundings. There's leaves under your feet, gravel, sticks. But then, before you can step your foot down next, something crunches in the distance on your left. What do you do?"

There's a pause. A long moment where Steve is considering his options.

"It's a far away sound, right?" Steve checks and Eddie nods. There's a little hmph from Steve as he continues to think. "Can I tell how far away it is? Is there a way to distinct the length of it?"

Eddie maybe smirks, eyes already glowing. "Give a perception check." And at Steve's befuddled expression, leaning in and brows furrowed, Eddie continues on. "So, you're going to roll one of those dice that you always see the kids with. The D20, that's the one you'd use right now. 20 is the highest you can get"—

"The best I can get. And 1 is obviously the lowest, so the worst."

"Right! So...let's say you were to pick up a D20 right now and roll it. You get a...a fourteen. And your perception, one of those skills on the top of your paper"—and Eddie would grab Steve's character sheet, to point out the number he already placed there—"this one right here. And on your paper, it looks to be pretty high. A sixteen is what you have. So...I'm going to ask you to add three more to your dice roll."

Steve squints at the paper. He doesn't take long to do the math, muttering a little under his breath. "Okay...I'd have a seventeen for my perception check." And he looks up to Eddie for confirmation, in which he gets. "And if it's possible out of twenty...that means I can probably figure it out well, right?"

Eddie nods with a smug hum. "You're already a natural." He leans back a little from Steve. Eyes away in thought. Goes on, "So, I'll know right away, based on that number you give me that you're extremely perceptive. I tell you...okay, the sound you hear is roughly ten feet away on your left."

"That's really close," Steve murmurs. "I think I'll...I'll ready that bow on my back. Take it off, grab for one of my arrows. Poise it."

"Mmm...And as soon as you get your bow in the right position, you begin to make out what seems like a pair of eyes. From the darkness between the trees, those eyes emerge closer and closer, revealing the large figure of a sixteen foot owlbear. Its feathers are spread wide, splaying defensively. Eyes glowing, it seems, yellow and bright. The body girth of a bear, but the head and mannerisms of an owl. It trills and squawks in your face. What do you do?"

Anyway, it would go from there. Tried to figure out a monster that wasn't an owlbear because that's what was used in the video. But uh...my brain is not being original right now, so that's basically the whole example from the video. But I just adore that video so much, the simple, yet impactful way she taught the basics. And I think it could translate so well to Eddie and Steve messing with D&D together.

Sorry for a long ass post lmao

Tagging (no pressure): @puppy-steve @scoops-aboy86 @ataliagold @marvel-ous-m @pearynice

@wheneverfeasible @rogueddie @sidekick-hero

[nessataleweaver]

FIC: You and I are like the ink staining all the other pages (Game of Thrones, Jon/Sansa)

RATING: Explicit (m/f sex); step-incest; possible dubious consent; underage sex

SUMMARY: (modern AU) Step-siblings Jon and Sansa have been in denial about their mutual attraction for a long time. When the Stark-Tully kids head out to the Halloween carnival, Jon is the only one willing to go through the ‘lame’ Ghost tunnel with Sansa. But they don’t know it’s been re-purposed from a Tunnel of Love, that’s been given an extra kick via magic...

PROMPT: For jonsa-halloween for their 2024 event, using the October 30th prompt ‘Magic’. 

NOTE: I originally had this idea for ‘curse’, but that would have involved Joffrey being stupid and vengeful, and I don’t really want to give his royal skidmark any page time, so I switched tracks somewhat.  While doing so, I realised I was actually writing a prequel to one of my stories from the 2020 event, ‘What you are in the dark’. So to clarify: this is a modern AU, where the Starks are a blended family.  Jon and Arya are Ned’s children, while Robb, Sansa and Bran are Catelyn’s kids.  Rickon is theirs, and is still a toddler. Theon, Robb, Jon and Sansa are all in high school. Arya and Bran are thirteen and twelve.

Can also be read on AO3

ONE YEAR EARLIER

“Agatha... what are those symbols you’re painting?”

“You seriously don’t know?”

“Well, from here they look like several examples of ‘surrender to your desires’, ‘increase affection’, and ‘increase libido’.”

“So why did you ask?”

(sigh) “Agatha, I was asking with the sub-text “Why in Hecate’s name are you painting magic symbols inside our carnival attraction, which we will be exposing many members of the public to?” Do you want us to get sued? Or called in by the Misuse of Magic Office?”

“Don’t be silly!  It’s not mind-altering or anything, it’s just giving things a little... push.  This is going to be a ‘Tunnel of Love’, so the couples that go through it will come out feeling lovey-dovey and horny.  Just think about the Yelp reviews we’ll get!”

“And what about people who aren’t couples, who are just going through it for laughs? Or people who are going on this because they get sick on other rides, and who’s significant others are on the coaster?  Or tweenage girls going through with their besties because it’s so romantic?”

(eyeroll) “It’s like you think I’m stupid or something. All the boats are floating on water, so the customers won’t be around any of the symbols long enough for anything to happen inside the ride. If anything, their partners will have a good time when they get home, or they get to discover the joys of masturbation. Honestly, the worst that will happen is that a few of the security guards might bust some couples fucking in the parking lot because they don’t want to wait to get home.  So what?”

(deeper sigh) “If something goes wrong, I’m throwing you off the flying carpet.”

“Fine, Miss Scaredy-cat!  And when we get asked to hire it out all over the North, I get all the bragging rights!”

ONE MONTH EARLIER

“Agatha, did you hire out our Tunnel of Love to a Halloween carnival?”

“Yep!  Their Ghost train got derailed somewhere in the Neck, and they’re paying us triple the usual hire fee plus ten per cent of the gate!  It’s easy to re-decorate – the whole tunnel looks like a cave anyway.  We put Halloween costumes on all the dummies, add in a few fake coffins and bubbling cauldrons and maybe put in a mad scientist lab or zombie graveyard to replace the masqued ballroom?  We hang fake spider-webs and black drop-cloths from the ceiling with ghost outlines, and instead of the love songs we play spooky sound effects over the sound system.  We haven’t painted the spare set of boats yet, so we make them black and use stencils for skulls and bones over that. Hey, if we keep them that way maybe we can add a pirate cave option?”

PRESENT DAY - LAST FRIDAY BEFORE HALLOWEEN

“Sheesh, Sansa, you’re such a scaredy-cat. We wait any longer to hit the really good rides, we’ll be stuck in line for ages.  All the college students will hit the carnival soon – trust me, I know.”

“I’m not scared, Arya,” Sansa told her step-sister.  “I just get motion-sick easily, remember?  I ride the roller-coaster, the Hurricane and the Zipper within an hour, and I’ll be bringing up dinner with a vengeance.  Just go without me.”

Arya made an expressive face.  “I forgot about all those meds you had to take for our family honeymoon.  But seriously, what was the point of getting to leave Rickon and the parentals at home if not to go on all the rides?”

Jon ruffled her hair affectionately. “You can still go on all the rides.  At least the ones you’re tall enough for.”

Arya scowled and hit her older brother in the side. “I haven’t had my growth spurt yet! That’s why Sansa found me these platform combat boots.”

Jon smiled, not even feeling Arya’s punch.  While Sansa had corralled Arya and Bran through the shooting games and stashing Arya’s armful of prizes in the car, Theon had split a joint with him and Robb.  As a result, Jon was feeling as chilled as a capybara.

“Robb and Theon are coming back now,” Sansa pointed down the midway.  “Robb loves those rides, too.  If he hesitates, tell him it’ll be a sibling bonding moment – that always gets him.”

Bran snickered. “Sansa, the mastermind.  But seriously, Theon loves the arcade but hates admitting it.  I’ll ask him to go through it with me and that’ll leave Robb for you.”

Sansa grinned.  “That leaves Jon to go through the haunted house with me.”

“No it doesn’t!  I want to go through the haunted house too!” Arya protested.

“And me!” Bran added.  “What about the mirror maze, or the Ghost Tunnel?  I think you’re the only ones who wanted those.”

“Um, maybe not the maze,” Jon mumbled.  “Reminds me of my ex.”

“The one who shot you with an arrow or the one who’s now running that cult?” Sansa asked.

“Dany,” Jon replied. He hadn’t even told his best friend Sam, or Robb, that his narcissistic to the point of God-complex girlfriend had once hired out the entire mirror maze for an hour so she could make him fuck her while she watched their reflections in about ten different mirrors. There were reasons he’d stayed with her as long as he had - almost all of them sexual.

“Ghost Tunnel then?” Sansa asked brightly.

“Sure,” Jon said agreeably. “It hasn’t been here before, so I’m up for the new experience.”

Leaving their younger siblings in Robb and Theon’s sometimes-capable hands, Jon and Sansa headed across the fairgrounds.

Sansa looked up at the night sky, and smiled.  “I love full moons, and this one’s special, did you know?”

“Wasn’t Bran talking about this at breakfast the other day?” Jon asked.  “It’s a blue moon, yeah? The second in a month?”

“Exactly.  It’s very good for charging spells and ceremonies.”

“You don’t talk much about your magic studies,” Jon remarked curiously. “Even when I helped you study for the botany section.”

“It tends to upset Mother.  I inherited the talent from her, but she’s so devoted to the Seven she always refused to do anything with it.  At least she’s never tried to keep me from it.  Though I think it’s partly because Uncle Brynden and Aunt Lysa had a discussion – the kind with a capital D - with her about it when I was younger.”

“So you’re not doing any of those spells or ceremonies?”

Sansa shook her head. “My mentor’s doing something tomorrow, but as a solo practitioner I’m not at the stage yet where it would be useful for me. At my level, without a circle or coven, I might even do myself some damage.”

Arriving at the head of the line, Sansa and Jon tore some tickets off their pre-bought roll, and handed them over to the attendant, dressed in what looked like a Shakespeare heroine costume with a fake vampire bite dribbling down her throat and pale sparkly face paint.

“A water ride? I haven’t seen one of those in a Ghost tunnel before,” Sansa remarked, as Jon handed her into the boat.  She stashed her messenger bag in a cage underneath the prow, before she settled into the seat.

The boat’s shape forced them to sit very close together and it took several attempts to find a comfortable position, Jon having to put his arm around Sansa as they headed off into the dark.

A lifelong connoisseur of haunted attractions, Sansa murmured comments to Jon as they slowly floated along.

“Glow in the dark paint usually looks a bit tacky, but these ghosts are painted really well.”

“Oooh, that’s a lovely effect on those floating candelabra!  Maybe there’s some actual magic being used here?”

 “I wonder why there are no scare actors?  There should have been at least one by now if this ride has them.”

 “Can you hear a crackle? You think there’s a set-piece up ahead with lightning effects?”

Just as Jon muttered his agreement, they rounded the curve and saw a large alcove holding what looked to be Frankenstein’s laboratory, complete with a semi-covered body on a lab table, and even a pseudo-skylight above showing lightning constantly flashing.  Their boat settled to a halt, either to change passengers at the beginning or to let them admire the showpiece, when a particularly large thunderclap made them jump.

Then the already dim lighting went out, leaving them in pitch darkness.

“What the hell?”

Silver runes glowed at several points along the wall, and Sansa exclaimed, “So they are using real magic!”

A soothing voice echoed through the darkness. “We are currently experiencing a power failure, and are working to restore the lights and movement of the boats.  In the meantime, we are providing an alternative soundtrack.”

Piano music echoed in the tunnel, and Jon absently identified, “Tchaikovsky. Kind of romantic for a haunted tunnel.”

“Still better than the creepy sound effects, given the situation,” Sansa murmured.

Sansa wasn’t sure how long they floated in the dark, before she found herself snuggling closer to Jon.  His arm tightened around her in response.

“Cold?” he asked quietly.

“Not exactly.”

Actually, she was feeling quite warm. Sansa opened up her zippered hoodie and pulled her sweater out from the waistband of her short skirt. She turned her head sideways to bury her face in Jon’s neck.  He smelled really good, and Sansa absently pressed her thighs together, enjoying the sensation.

Jon rested his head on top of Sansa’s, as his hand curved around her hip, his thumb at just the right angle to dip under the hem of her sweater to stroke her soft skin just above the waistband of her skirt. It felt really good, holding her close; her slim form fit perfectly into the angles of his own. He felt her lips on the sensitive skin on his throat, and bit back a groan as his cock stirred. Now was probably a bad time to remember all the times he’d fisted his cock to thoughts of his lovely step-sister. Even if those pretty tits of hers were pressed softly against his chest, and he was fairly sure that he could feel her hardened nipples through her sweater and his shirt.

Sansa could admit to herself, here in the dark, that her panties were wet and her breasts ached with need.  That she wanted to be even closer to Jon.  She wanted to feel his bare skin against hers, and to wrap her arms and legs around him. Her heart pounding, Sansa let her hand drift along the contours of his torso and down, until she could feel the hard bulge between his legs.  She sighed as she curved her hand around it, then gasped as she felt Jon’s lips against her ear.

“Let me,” Jon murmured, his voice almost soundless as he brought his free hand down to cover the fingers rubbing at him through his jeans.  He moved them aside just enough to undo the button and zip, and groaned in relief as he parted the slit in his boxers to free his erection.  Had Theon added something to that joint?  He was so horny he was pretty sure he could hammer nails with his dick.

Jon couldn’t see Sansa’s fingers gently, tentatively wrap around his rampant cock, gingerly fisting and stroking him, but it was really working for him. The hand he’d latched around her hip slid up and under her sweater, until he could feel the lace of her bra.  He ran his fingertips along the curve of her breast until he found the hem of the cup, gently tugging until her now-exposed breast fell into his palm, where his fingers could rub and flick at her nipple. She was half-way in his lap, her knee hooked over his thigh, and Jon used it as a guide for his other hand, gliding his fingers along her inner thigh until he found her mound.

Sansa whimpered as he stroked and rubbed her pussy through the soaking wet fabric of her underwear, but he wanted more.  Jon pulled and fumbled until he felt her bare folds, and expertly found her clit.  Sansa moaned, and Jon’s cock all but jumped in her grip in response.

Sansa’s head was spinning, and in the dark she was blind to everything but Jon.  His touch on her breast and between her legs, and the hot throbbing rod of muscle in her hand.  She felt so good, and she loved it.  Why had no one ever told her she could feel so good? She moved her hips against Jon’s hand, and his thick fingers slid in her slick folds until one slipped right inside her. She felt herself squeeze down on him in reaction.

“More. Jon, I want more,” she whispered.  Another finger pushed it’s way inside her, and they both wriggled and curved, and when Jon touched a certain spot Sansa slammed her hand over her mouth as she shivered and writhed through her first climax.

Jon had never fucked a virgin before, but Sansa was so tight around his fingers he was sure he was about to.  She was so wet she was dripping onto his hand, and he wouldn’t have any issues working his dick into Sansa’s cunt even though he was on the larger side and she was so tight.

“You need to sit on my lap,” he murmured.  It took some manoeuvring, untangling their legs by feel, but both Jon’s hands latched on Sansa’s hips, and he pulled her body flush to his with her knees bracketing his hips. His cock rubbed against her soaked underwear, and Sansa sighed and rocked her pelvis to increase the friction.  Jon could already feel the pressure building along his spine; he needed to move quickly. “Sansa? If I lift you up, can you put me in the right place?”

Sansa reached down and gripped his cock in answer. He felt her pull her underwear aside with one hand as the tip of cock brushed against her folds. As it notched into her opening, Jon eased Sansa down, groaning as he sank into her tight, slick cunt.

Was it her delectable pussy that felt so good, or was it because he’d never fucked raw before? Either way, Jon was pretty sure he was having the best sex of his life.

 “Your thing is inside me!” Sansa whimpered.  “It’s so big, I’m so full.”

“Are you hurting?” Jon rumbled softly in her ear.

“Mmmph, ah!  It feels really good, though,” Sansa gasped. She wriggled and squirmed, not sure whether she was trying to get Jon deeper inside her or find a position that didn’t feel like she was going to burst.  She pushed her sweater up to her armpits, and wrenched at the front hooks of her bra.  As Jon’s grip on her hips urged her to rock back and forth, Sansa slid her arms around his neck and rubbed her bare breasts against the soft cotton of his t-shirt.

“Lean back a little,” Jon ordered.

Sansa arched her back, mourning the loss of stimulation to her breasts, but Jon somehow shifted his hips, changing the angle of his hardness and Sansa yelped as he rubbed against the place inside his fingers had found earlier, making her feel like a lightning-bolt, sizzling and ready to strike. He did it again and again, and Sansa felt herself explode.

“That’s it, sweetheart, clench down hard on my cock,” Jon growled in her ear, and Sansa convulsed, her inner muscles trying to squeeze the delicious intrusion that already stretched her open without remorse.

Jon moved his hands to her tits, just the right size to fill his hands, and clutched them as his own climax slammed into him.

“Ah!  I can feel your hot stuff coming out, it’s squirting inside me,” moaned Sansa.

Thing? Hot stuff?  In the fragment of his mind that wasn’t drowning in pleasure, Jon wondered just what version of The Talk his stepmother had given the girl taking his dick like she was made for it. At least he could cum inside her without reservation; having helped Sansa study for her herbalist lessons, he knew she was licensed to brew moon tea.

Sansa pressed her forehead against Jon’s as she gasped for breath, and his tight grip on her breasts softened, gently cradling them in his big hands.

The rattling of chains broke their silence, and the boat jerked.  Sansa sat bolt upright as the boat started to move.

“Fuck, we’re moving! You need to get off me!” Jon yelped.

Sansa nearly fell out to the boat, trying to disentangle herself from Jon and sit back down while shifting her panties back into place.  At the same time, Jon was cursing beside her; Sansa caught a glimpse of his still-hard cock as he pushed it back into his jeans, and a swift after-shock of need ran through her. The dim light grew brighter, and Sansa gave up fumbling with her bra to yank her sweater down, hurriedly zipping up her hoodie, glad she’d borrowed it from Jon earlier in the evening and it was thus two sizes too big.

Their boat cruised through a curtain of strings of moss, and bumped into the dock.  Blinking away after-images of the bright carnival lights, Sansa ignored the ride attendant’s droning voice.

Looking down at the bottom of the boat, Sansa’s eyes widened in horror at the obvious stains surrounding Jon’s fly. His leather jacket wasn’t long enough to cover them.

“Hang on, I need my bag!” she exclaimed.  Bending forward, half-over Jon’s lap, Sansa groped for her messenger bag with one hand.  With the other, she passed her fingertips, faintly glowing river-blue, over Jon’s crotch while she whispered a key-phrase.

Jon had to help her out of the boat, too – her legs could barely hold her up.

Jon’s fingers circled her wrist, as he led her away from the ride, the attendant’s smirk not hidden by the fangs of his B-movie Dracula costume.

“There’s bathrooms under the stairs to the grandstand, hardly anyone should be there until it’s time for the fireworks,” Jon told her.  “Meet you outside once we’ve both cleaned up.”

Keeping his body turned away from the man at urinals, Jon shut himself into the farthest cubicle with a sigh of relief.  What in the seven hells had Sansa been playing at, fondling his crotch like that in front of that vampire jerkass?

Jon grabbed a fistful of toilet tissue and looked down to assess the damage.  In the bright light of the bathroom, he could see no tell-tale stains. Looking in the direction of the ladies’ room, Jon sent a mental apology to Sansa.  She’d been using her favorite cleaning spell; if he’d been paying attention to her words instead of her touch he’d have recognised it.  She’d certainly used it on Arya and Bran to help them avoid Catelyn’s wrath enough times.

In the only available stall in the ladies’ room, Sansa hung her messenger bag and hoodie on the hook on the back of the door.  Reaching underneath her sweater, she pulled the cups of her bra back into place but couldn’t quite fasten it.  With a sigh of exasperation, Sansa pulled off her sweater, static electricity making her hair crackle, and shrugged out of her bra.

Standing topless in the small concrete-walled building, Sansa felt her nipples harden again from the chilly air as she inspected her bra.  She’d somehow managed to pop the stitching that kept the hooks in place.  It would be quite uncomfortable if she tried to wear it now and she was sure to lose at least one set of hook-and-eyes. Folding the garment carefully, Sansa slipped it into the laptop sleeve of her messenger bag. Sitting down on the toilet, Sansa needed three lots of tissue to clean Jon’s spend from between her legs, and two castings of the ‘neaten-up’ spell to make her sodden panties wearable again.

Dragging her sweater back over her head, Sansa inhaled sharply as she tugged it into place over her hips.  The soft wool felt so good against her still-sensitized breasts, and the place between her legs ached with longing.  Even though she was sore down there from being forced wide open, she missed the fullness.  Shrugging on the hoodie, she left it open. After washing her hands at the communal sinks, Sansa settled the strap of her messenger bag in a cross-body position between her breasts.  Looking at her reflection, Sansa could see her hard nipples ever so slightly distorting the surface of her sweater, her unencumbered breasts framed by Jon’s hoodie at the sides and the bag-strap pulling the wool flat between them and taut across them. How easy would it be, for Jon to slide his hand under the hem of her sweater and feel her bare breasts?

Sansa smiled at her reflection as she smoothed the static from her hair.

When they met outside the bathrooms, Jon and Sansa were almost as immaculate as when they went into the Ghost tunnel. Maybe Jon’s curls were a little wilder, and Sansa’s lips were so red it looked like she’d been drinking the smoothie van’s ‘Bloody Brew’.  But so what?

Jon’s eyes traced along the curves of his step-sister’s breasts, which he was certain were bare beneath the jack-o-lantern patterned sweater.  He had to fight the urge to drop to his knees and bury his face between her thighs.  He’d come inside her fifteen minutes ago, and all he could think of was getting Sansa somewhere private enough that he could see her naked before driving balls-deep inside her.

Sansa licked her lips as her gaze flickered from his eyes to his crotch and back, and Jon knew without a doubt that she wanted the exact same thing.

“We could say that you’re not feeling well.  Theon can fit everyone else into his Rover, and we can take the car and find somewhere to park on the way home.”

Sansa shook her head, her face regretful.  “If I’m sick, Robb would insist on taking me home himself.  We’ll have to wait.”

“How long?” Jon asked, his voice gravelly with need.

“I’ll get Theon to invite Robb to stay over, so we can drive Bran and Arya home. Once they’re in bed, come to my room.  I can close the curtains around my four-poster so no one can see in even if they open the door.”

“Keep the curtains open to the window,” Jon ran his eyes slowly, deliberately over her breasts, tracing every covered curve with his gaze.  “I want to see you naked by moonlight.”

Sansa moved closer, until he could feel the heat of her body against the bare skin of his hand.

“Same here.”

ONE WEEK LATER

“I have to admit, Agatha, that ghost caves idea made us a mint.  Maybe we should look into leveling up the spooky decorations, and offering it as a permanent alternative option?  Could be in more demand than the Tunnel of Love for things like school carnivals.”

“Ha!”

“Agatha, what are you doing?”

“I’m doing the ‘Agatha was right and she’s telling you so!’ dance.”

“Well, could you please point your booty that way,” (point) “before you shake it?” (mutter) “Like I don’t see enough of your ass during sky-clad ceremonies.” (paper rustling) “The switch from romance to spooky takes, what, a day? And that’s mostly covered during set-up anyway.  The only thing I don’t have a cost breakdown for is the spell-paint and spell-removal.”

(full-body pause) “Spell-removal?”

“Yeah, what did it cost to erase the lovey-dovey and horny spells?  And what will it cost to re-apply them for the Tunnel of Love?  It’s not like that shit works off decals.”

(silence)

“Agatha... you did remember to remove the lovey-dovey and horny spells, right?”

“Um...”

“RIGHT?”

DISCLAIMER: Neither Kathryn Hahn or Elizabeth Olsen were fan-cast in this fic. Aubrey Plaza maybe.

Title comes from the song ‘Counterpane’ by The Birthday Massacre; mostly because I didn’t like the original title, and I was listening to the song during final edits.

[madstronaut]

TATS TATS TATS TATS (to the tune of Shots by LMFAO ft. Lil Jon)

tattoo au tattoo au tattoo auuuuu my beloved, one of my favorite AUs to read about!!!!!!!!!!!!!

alright I’m throwing a bunch of these fic rambles out now as I’ve got a busy season coming up for traveling off-site/pulliing long hours for work for the next few weeks but rest assured I have read all these july (and june…and may..april..march…etc etc) fanficowrimo fics a disturbing # of times and I will continue to do so during my mini work-related hiatuses  

Reading: Skin Deep by @rememberwren

first off the A/N at the beginning said “at least three nipples” and for some reason my brain went straight to chandler from friends havin a third nipple and thought i would also see a reader with a third nip 😂

also now that Ive seen this gif I can't help but see ghost+soap as military brit chandler & joey lmao

Her silky little tank top is drooping off of one shoulder, so you reach out and tuck it back into place.

i love this lil sisterly/affectionate gesture 🥰

“Oh no. No, no, no. Not Kevin. Not Kevin. Why, Kevin?” 

IT’S ALWAYS A FUCKIN KEVIN ISN’T IT (no shade to good kevins out there but most if not all the IRL kevins I know are little shitbags)

You deflate like a balloon, going limp and letting her drag you to the nearby free seats at the bar where you sit heavily.

nooooooooo I want to hug reader and pep talk her so bad here rn

...sipping at it and keeping your hand curled over the top of it protectively.

I both like and hate (that the need for this exists) this inclusion; club/bar survival 101

There is a personal instagram linked @GHOST89 but it is private when you try to click on it. 

hehehehe me also giggling as an 89 baby

The phone number your friend gave you rings straight through to voicemail…Groaning, you contemplate dialing him back when the phone in your hand rings—and it’s him. 

i guess my millennial is showin at the horror i felt at reading about answering a call from a strange #/stranger lol

All at once a shadow appears on the other side of the door. The shadow is enormous: well above six feet tall, and broad shouldered.

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. And Ghost. 

aHAHAHAHA FUCKING SCREAMING AT THEIR IN PERSON MEETING I LOVED ALL THE DETAILS OF HOW THE READER & GHOST PERCEIVE EACH OTHERRR

He doesn’t laugh. “Everything. Is someone putting you up to this? This smells like Soap.” 

“What? No, of course not. I want this, I’m just, I’m an anxious personality. I promise.” You hesitate and then add: “I probably smell like soap because I showered this morning.” 

His mouth twitches. He leans back in his seat and sucks on his teeth, and you get the distinct feeling that he is trying very hard not to laugh at you.

LMAO I LOOOOOOOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS AWKWARD READER GIVING YOU A LIL MEDAL FOR THAT SOAP JOKE WRENNY

You do your best to express your idea, but your words feel halting and silly.

ah *pats reader’s arm* we’ve all been there lovey

pausing only once, when you say that you want this to be a sternum piece. Only then does his pencil seem to hover over the paper, his dark eyes seeking you out and pinning you in place on the armchair. 

He reaches for his tea to take a generous sip and then continues writing. 

first off I looove that ‘dark eyes pinning you in place’ line, if you have been on the receiving end it feels like being caught in a tractor beam just absolutely arresting knowing you’re at someone’s center of attention! but also fucking caaaaaackling seeing ghost attempt to keep his cool and be profesh imagining himself touching reader’s…sternum yes her sternum of course what else could he have been imagining- this is a christian blog writing about a 100% christian tattoo shop au you sick fuc-

How do you take pain?”  “I mean, it hurts?” you offer.  He stares.

😂😂😂

He’s handsome, in an odd sort of way. His brow is a little too low, his gaze a little too intimidating to be considered conventionally attractive, but you find him fascinating to look at, especially when he is so clearly in the throes of something he enjoys doing. It’s almost like watching someone have sex. The thought makes your face go warm.

oh I love this whole section…I think everyone is most attractive when they’re doing what they love/were born to do/fully themselves and in their element, and yes reader, it IS indeed so intimate to witness, akin to watching someone have sex indeed dw you’ll get your turn 🤭

He made them so the image would better fit the contours of your body. He made them because the ink will spread over time, and he wants the look to stay clean. 

His thoughtfulness touches you. 

🥹🥰

You didn’t tell me this guy was cute, you text to your friend.  GHOST? Cute? I’ve never even seen his face lol. He’s always wearing one of his masks. 

 sidenote shoutout to this bestie for connecting reader and ghostie🥰

Did it mean something that you wanted it to mean something?  

i am half in love with how relatable this reader is and her part curiosity bravery awkwardness cluelessness is absolutely endearing to meeee

Fuck the tattoo artist!!!! she says. Maybe he’ll ink you for free. 

lmao the feral bestie energy is immaculate (speaking as an IRL feral bestie)

Two days later, you squint blearily into the darkness at your phone after it vibrates on your nightstand. The time reads twelve past one in the morning. It’s from GHOST. 

hahahaha I would love to see this whole story from ghost’s perspective working his ass off to impress his clientcrush and texting her in the middle of the night GOD I LOVE BOTH THEIR ENERGIES

“Your tits are cute. Let Ghost see them.” 

#FREETHENIPPLE2024

You felt reasonably safe with Ghost, but still a degree of embarrassment about your own body. Or perhaps that was too strong a word—it didn’t embarrass you, but it felt private. Baring your breasts to a near stranger (especially one you had a grudging attraction to) made your anxiety reach epic level proportions. 

so valid, reader, so valid! I loved their exchange discussing her anxieties as well

but his blond hair, cropped short to his scalp is riotous in a way that is adorably charming, like he hasn’t been able to keep his hands out of it.

looks like reader wasn’t the only anxious one 👀👀🤭🤭

You fight the arousal that blooms in your belly at the sight of him doing such benign things as washing his hands, putting on gloves, opening fresh needles, preparing little wells of ink and sticking them to the movable cart with Vaseline. There’s just something about a person who knows exactly what they’re doing and who is able to do it with efficacy.

yes, yes, yes, and (checks notes) yes

Finally, you sit in front of him in only the pasties, the shirt lax around your shoulders, and your sweatpants, socked toes curling in anxiety in your shoes

ghost nervously aroused by reader in this outfit (SWEATS, SOCKS. BUTTONUP???) is so endearing to me lmao

“Yes,” he says. Then his eyes flicker to yours. “Everyone is. Everywhere. It’s normal.”

I know somewhere, ghost’s bestie soap is facepalming at his answers here LMAO

“Very good,” you answer, sitting back down, hoping he ignores the way your breasts bounce a little as you do

HAHAHAHA DENIAL, THY NAME IS READER

His gentleness and thoughtfulness go straight to your cunt. 

me, reading: “is this reader…me?????” 🧐🤔🧐🤔

He pauses when this happens, eyes flickering up to your own, making sure you are alright even though he can likely feel the pounding of your heart beneath his hand. That hand on your chest, wrist just brushing the top of your breast, is a solid warm weight that seems to tether you back down to the earth as he lines you.

ah i love this sm. there’s a special tenderness (and sexiness) in getting on an intuitive/anticipatory/reading body language/unspoken cues level of communication🥰

“Alright. Break,” he says, abruptly turning the gun off. He covers your exposed breast with another towel. “Take ten.”

LMAO READER BROKE HIM FIRST I AM CACKLING I *KNEW* HE WENT TO RUB ONE ONE OUT EVEN BEFORE WREN CONFIRMS HE DID INDEED LATER ON

It had almost weeded out you, you think about telling him, but in the end you decide against it.

almost..but you made it!!! *strong urge to pep talk reader and boost her confidence intensifies* CMON GIRL YOUR BEST ASSETS ARE RIGHT OUT FRONT WORK WITH WHAT YA GOT

“I need breaks too,” he says stonily. 

yes cos hes rock hard rn get it *badumtss* sorry I’ll stop here

His face is stoic—what bits of it you can see from behind the mask—as he washes his hands thoroughly and preps his work station again. 

the amount of screeching/cackling I made while reading this was really unhealthy 

This time his hand keeps a very respectable distance from your breasts—a fact which you both lament and appreciate all in one.

sigh I feel you reader, the paradox of A Good Man indeed

a happy trail you’d give your life to follow

this...is some A GRADE PROSE RIGHT HERE WREN MWAH MWAH MWAH

“Eager to be done?” you wonder.  He stares at you, expression flat, and says nothing. Nothing needs to be said. 

what good is yearning without some delicious tension arising from some misinterpretation?!?! btw having some curiosity/courage/humility to talk things out can NIP so many conflicts in the bud before they start… (I know I said I'll stop well I lied)

After he takes the photo, he posts it and asks for your handle to tag you in it…You get home to find that Ghost’s personal account has requested to follow you.

🤭🤭🤭🤭again gigglin madly

You find yourself staring at his fixated expression for longer than is respectable. 

awwwWWWWWWWWWWWW-[audio cut off, voice reached inhuman decibels]

What sort of ink did Ghost use? Was it reputable? What if the infection reaches your bloodstream? You were too young to die! Your anxiety spirals like a plane with one wing, trailing smoke as it soars straight down, determined to take you with it.   

omg reader reader WHY ARE YOU SO RELATABLE I HATELOVE IT the anxiety tailspin’s so real

You don’t bother with a bra, not when it irritates your tattoo so much.

as someone who has experienced skin irritation under clothes definitely sympathywinced reading this

“I was smoking,” he says when you roll your eyes in exasperation.  “You’re worried about getting the chemicals on my skin but not in your lungs?” “Fuck my lungs,” he mutters.

I’m in love with their exasperated banter here lmao

As he speaks, his breath fans across your chest, making you shiver. He sees this, his eyes darkening. “When you called, I thought it was for me.”

FUCKING FINALLY (also why he wore the mask during their session earlier i suspect)

“It was for you,” you say, brow furrowing. “Who else?”

OH MY FUCKING GOOOODD READER!!! READER PLEASE LMAO this is comedy of shakespearean proportions to me

God, it’s like he’s not getting it. Maybe you need to be bolder. Fortune favors the bold, doesn’t it?

YES ReADER YES YOU CAN DO IT!!! I AM SHARPIE ON CARDBOARD SIGN RABIDLY WAVING ENCOURAGING YOU FROM THE SIDELINES FUCKING GO FOR IT OMG THE FUCKING TENSION HERE IS LIKE WATCHING A SPORTS MATCH WAITINGBEGGING FOR YOUR TEAM TO SCORE

“If I—“ it hits him then. You can see it in the fractional widening of his eyes, the way his mouth parts softly in blatant surprise before he shuts it, dark eyes returning to your sternum. He says: “Closer.”

FUCKING FINALLY YES SCORE POINT SET MATCH GOAL SLAM DUNK FUUCKKK waving flags rn

“Be still,” he says firmly. Another pitiful sound slips past your throat. “Let me play with you.” 

ah riley ever the professional lmao

“Please,” you gasp. “Play with me—even if that’s all you want—just don’t stop, please.”  His mouth parts as he listens to you, his eyes so, so dark. The pupils have nearly swallowed his irises whole, until you can see yourself bare from the waist up in the reflection. He shakes his head a little. “You don’t even know what you’re saying.”

“you don’t know what you’re saying” could be the alternate title for this whole damn fic lmao also fucking love this with the reflection in the pupils! I had this experience IRL and I still think about it from time to time

You gape at his admission. Had you been? He’d been so closed off and cool…though now that you thought back, maybe that was just his way of hiding it.

yall we got a BUDDING SHERLOCK HOLMES HERE, SOMEONE GET HER A MAGNIFYING GLASS 😂

“You the kind of girl who can cum like this? Just from this?”  “Uh-huh,” you promise, head bobbing. 

READER!!! you fucking cutie pie also if simon asked me a question any question while dry humping all my answers would be promises, well said reader, well fuckin said

“You can play with it.” You shyly run your thumb over it the way he had yours. He sighs, breath fanning across your arm

oh I love this mirroring here!!!

He lets you, very patient, like a dangerous creature withholding its bite. 

this line is perfection mwah mwah mwah

Then he touches you, and when he does, he touches you with surprising reverence. He touches you like you are art. 

this is so tender, I love this sm!!! this might be my favorite line in this whole blessed fic-

“Can’t believe you let me ink you,” he mutters.

this line + his reaction to reader calling him hot makes me think he has some self-esteem issues 🥺🥺🥺

His sigh is shaky. You’re learning his reactions, his very breaths. That shaky sigh means he’s pleased with you. You’ve said something right. 

this is a very revealing insight imho as in contrast, simon showed he’s been reading her body language very well much earlier on (he fell first and harder)

“Can’t,” you gasp, his revelation electrifying you. I loved this phrasing!!!! “Not sure I want you to cum now,” he says. “Hold it. I’m thinking it over.”  You broken?”  “Yes.”  He snorts. Then it turns into that laughter, warm and rumbling against your back. You smile where he can’t see. 

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA my god when writers get simons droll brit humor right THEY GET IT SO FUCKING RIGHT

“I jerked off in the back just from seeing half your tits,” he admits.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH GOD wrenny this whole story was so sweet and sexy and like a shakespearean comedy in the best way with the tension and miscommunication built up then resolved and mirrored in the best way with all that release of tension

also when I came back to link this story absolutely gasped at the little link atop indicating a SEQUEL??? MOTHER WREN YOU ARE TOO KIND INDEED

also finally realizing now as I write this the third nipple was ghost’s lol

also screaming IRL at how reader met soap LMAOO the TONGUE FLASH AND CASUALLY DROPPING HE’S PART OWNER, the screamers line from simon? AAAAAAAAAAAA [screeching reaching unholy decibels rn]

With Simon, you were just discovering that sex could be fun; sex could be slow; sex could end with no one orgasming and it could still change your life. 

🥹🥰🥹🥰yes yes PSA this is true IRL as well dear readers

He’s got cute nipples: small and pink as his mouth.

what a compliment, reminds me of that weird irl clock app trend I thInk with those glossier lip pencils mimicking nipple/dick colors or smth smth idk im too old/lazy/tired to keep up with tikkytokky trends

“You’re alone with Soap for sixty seconds and now you want your tits pierced. Are you saying that’s a coincidence?” 

mmm i can smell some tension/insecurity/anxiety brewing in this line of questioning already, fascinating!!!

You’ve never considered yourself to be particularly sexy, but the way he looks at you makes you feel powerful, like the sun lives just underneath your skin.

🥺🥺🥺

“We’ve got a spectator? A voyeur?” Soap asks, rubbing his hands together. “Oh you know all my seedy kinks, Ghost.”  Soap extends a hand to you. “The big guy still hasn’t introduced us. Some call me Soap, but beautiful women are allowed to call me Johnny.”  You shake his warm hand to be friendly and make the mistake of meeting his eyes. They are very blue, framed by dark lashes and expressive eyebrows. He flashes his tongue piercing at you again and you jerk your hand back like you’ve been burned. He laughs. 

 wow I know soap is often headcannoned as “flirts with anything that moves”/“flirts as friendship” but I love this little extra wrench/kink he throws in simon x reader’s relationship here (and very revealing of simon & johnny’s relationship here)

the whole ghost offering soap a free tattoo for reader’s nip piercing exchange is a fucking FASCINATING insight into his + johnny’s psyche in so many ways!!!!! johnny immediately drawing a boundary with reader as simon’s girlfriend and completely switching off his casual flirting (maybe in response to being shocked at the exceptions/rulebreaking simon made for her?) - I would also ask, as reader did right after this, about their friendship & history…a picture paints a thousand words and what a picture!! I loved this weird lil heated exchange

“I was doing stick ‘n pokes for anyone who would sit still. He was piercing soldier’s ears in exchange for cigarettes.

I like this lil canon inversion of what I’d think their roles would be in a tattoo au (johnny is an avid sketcher and would probably be more likely to be the artist if we follow canon)

"We both decided we’d rather live to see thirty, so when our time was up, we didn’t re-enlist, pooled our money, bought a location and never looked back.” 

#JohnnyLives in AUs and fanfic, god bless fanfic, yes and amen

“Was Johnny the one to pierce your nipple?” Simon stills for a moment, considering the question. At length he sets his glass down and says slowly: “Yes.”

what is it about fanfic writers who pluck our beloved blorbos out of their element (always reminded that COD is a first person shooter military propaganda game) yet capture their essence and personality so perfectly as they do??!?!?! one of the things I loved about this story is how wren writes simon in such a simon-y way if that makes sense

also reader, you are quite kinky and curious from what I can gather re: braving through a fucking sternum tat as your first one and ghost’s giant dick and considering a nip piercing; in conclusion LETS HANG OUT IRL I ADORE YOU (platonic)

He is much more abrupt today than he had been yesterday. You’re almost moved enough to ask him if he’s upset, but perhaps this is just his professionalism. Regardless, you miss the easy-going nature that had gone so far to put you at ease yesterday. 

this + the lack of eye contact compared to ghost’s behavior with reader is fucking revelatory to meeee aaaaaa livin for the drama here

“Left out all the tastiest bits,” Johnny says. “I bet he does that a lot when talking about his days with the 1-4-1.” Your stomach dips.  “That’ll do,” Simon says sternly from the corner. 

HAHAHAH but also sOAP WHY ARE YOU MAKING 141 sound like a bacchanalic orgy LMAO 

“If you can’t go without playing with them, I recommend just doing one at a time.

again the “playing with them” mention re: nips 👀👀 I feel like im playing clue here rn LMAO “IT WAS SOAP WITH THE CLAMPS IN TEH FOXHOLE”

my current crackpot theories are:

- ghost & soap fucked, possibly stlll fuck on and off

- ghost & soap share partners (ghost’s “this smells like soap” comment reads totally differently after reading pt. 2 to me) and they both give indications of romantic-attraction based insecurity in how they interact with each other

- ghost getting pierced was sexual

- ghost hasn’t had a steady partner before like reader and soap realized she was different when ghost maNIPulated (see what I did ther-ok I’ll stop no more puns) soap into a free piercing for her and may have experienced a bit of sadness at what he may perceive as the loss of ghost (as fuck buddy? something more? idk! soap keepin us all on our toes as usual)

- though I also think soap refusing to look at her, get her #, his sad lil smile re: “I’m a liar” and his reaction to her being invited to bday drinks with 141 all just might be signs of soap trying to adjust to the fact that a friend closer than a brother (in the sense they survived combat/PTSD-inducing sitchs together) is changing and “leaving” in a sense with the addition of reader in his life

- OR MAYBE johnny is protective of simon and knows how much simon likes her, and perceived her wanting a nip pierce as flirting with him (soap) and he resents her cos he thinks she’s not as head over heels for simon as he can see he is for her?!?!?!?!?!?! and they’ve had past drama re: love triangles here? IDFK anyway sorry let me put my pepe silvia conspiracy meme glasses away lol THIS FIICCCCCC has me in a chokehold (sexy)

It’s clear that their time spent serving together has made a brotherhood of them, and while a small part of you feels estranged as the outsider amongst this group, the larger part thinks it’s beautiful to see. 

🥹🥹🥹I’ve said this before but such a lovely part of being beloved is meeting others who also love your beloved (and who also become beloved to you)

“It wouldn’t be the first time that a girl who was supposed to be mine ended up being for Soap.” 

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA the painjoy of liveblogging a ficread is regretting to stop to conspiracy theorize but I FUCKIN KNEW IT!!!!! RAAAAAA

ch2 brought a completely different spin to the fic but honestly what a fuckin ride!!! I love both so far because I love all my kinky COD men equally (cough no I don’t but my favorite is the rarest blorbo of all so I make do lol cough)

update: SHE WROTE A PT 3!!!!!!

[entitled-fangirl]

If you had to only write for Cregan of Aemond again who would it be?

Oooooo good question!!!

There’s definitely pros and cons to both

Their time in the show so far:

Aemond’s character is already wayyyy more fleshed out in the show, and kind of gives you a blueprint of how he would react to things/ his actions.

Cregan literally had five minutes. Now, was it my favorite five minutes of the show? Duh. But we’re taking one conversation (and a little bit of what we know happens later), along with all the information we know from the Stark family two centuries later. Like, literally look at Tom Taylor’s Cregan and tell me you don’t see Eddard and hear Jon. Not as much background to use as a blueprint for things.

Now, as characters?

Aemond is literally so mean. But, knowing his background, he literally gives you that feeling of “I can fix him,” because he’s putting on a facade. He actually needs someone to fix him, cause his mom isn’t doing shit. She literally waved the white flag on him and gave up on him. You can see that there’s a softness to him and there are actually people that bring that out in him. However, he manipulates easily and is easily manipulated. That boy just deserves a fucking hug, good god. I think a girl could bring out his soft side due to his mommy issues, but it’s definitely giving a grumpy x sunshine trope always. And he’d be way too controlling, and to really write the character, you have to display that in some form, even if it’s minuscule. Wives don’t want to be moms to their husbands too, so he’s definitely toxic in that way.

Now my babygirl Cregan. In one word? Gruff. He’s definitely gruff. He’s a firm believer in traditions, and honestly, on first impressions, he’s probably sexist. He was probably raised to treat women like glass, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t change his mind about certain women as he goes- he obviously has great respect for Rhaenyra. But he’d treat a wife like a literal porcelain doll. He is such a gentleman that sometimes it’s a curse on him. I can see him being really fucking protective though. He seems like he’d succeed everywhere the Starks in GoT failed. He’s a really really firm leader, and an incredible fucking swordsman (I didn’t make that up, that’s canon). But, he’s a bitch for tradition, and everybody’s gotta respect that about him.

My personal opinion:

I think both are incredible characters, and I EAT up every second they have on screen. I enjoy writing for both of them, as they are played by their actors so well, that I can literally see the characters doing things as I write them. If the girl runs away, I literally go “how would he react to that?” Aemond’s fucking furious. Cregan is worried. That’s how easily believed the actors display their characters. I don’t have to guess.

But after a long winded answer that you probably didn’t ask to get, I’d say Cregan.

When in doubt, Cregan is the softer man (believe it or not) and I love writing men who LOVE THEIR WIVES!!! I think we need more of that comforting feeling. A dark fanfic is fun sometimes, but I want to feel deep emotions when I’m reading. I wanna feel the love. Especially when the character wouldn’t be afraid to show their love. Aemond definitely wouldn’t show it, whereas Cregan wears it on his sleeve proudly, like every other northerner displays their emotions. Cregan definitely isn’t going to be toxic and would always hear somebody out. I think that’s important.

So, Cregan. Def Cregan.

[smaragaide]

Petyr x Sansa canon potential

Seeing some talk about how PxS canon could have come about. I’m re-reading, my ‘canon’ version of “The Winds of Winter” :

AO3 - Awakenings -- PxS canon book/tv style fic 

It really does make me angry about how much potential Petyr x Sansa had in canon to be this amazing dark horse duo that could have taken over the entire game. The showruiners screwed everything up by making Petyr do something he would never do -- put Sansa in severe danger and worse by giving her to the Boltons. The smartest character in the series WOULD NOT DO THIS with his ace in the hole. 

There was so much they could have done, including freeing the North, working with Jon eventually and then working against Dany and Cersei. Sansa would learn everything from Petyr on how to play the game and ultimately RULE. 

Petyr, with all his faults, wanted a level playing field for low-borns like him. He was teaching Sansa this as well. Being his ‘bastard’ she began to really understand what privilege she had as a Stark. Abused by the Lannisters taught her that those rosy girlish dreams were bs and she needed to be her own knight in shining armour. 

Does Petyr truly care for her? Yes, I believe he does. She’s part ‘what could have been’ because of Catelyn and now even better because Sansa is what Cat could never be and thats a drug to him. Turning Sansa (to his own detriment) into a female version of himself. 

Sigh.

Yes, is it fucked up? Of course. But it would have been GREAT storytelling and even better in the end when Petyr eventually does die by her hand, it’s not like the show. Sansa actually cares for him, maybe even loves him but knows he has to die if she is going to rule. Watching that emotion in a scene would have been so amazing. It would be what the characters actually deserved instead of hack writing and a pointless plot that kills off the mastermind of the political game in the entire series. 

[fishfingersandjellybabies]

I have this concept in mind that Damian even without Batman and the brothers in his life, Damian would end up giving up the League of Assassins doctrine in some point

It was just going to take longer than it was in the canon, I can see that over the years Damian was slowly realizing that killing wasn't going to solve anything, that staying there wasn't going to help him in anything, that that "love" that his mother it wasn't right, that lifestyle turned him into someone without emotion and empty

So Damian, seeing no more meaning in those empty words, programmed acts and violence for meaningless violence was just going to get up and walk away on his own

This was going to happen when he was 16/17 years old. He would realize that that anger he held inside of him wasn't going to solve anything and that desire to please his family was just a tool to keep him as an object (secretly Damian always knew this, just admitting it hurts so he always avoided confronting that thought)

So now you have Damian on the run from the league of assassins, living like a normal person and trying to be invisible. Damian has no desire to get to know Gotham and Bruce's other children (yes, Damian is aware of Batman and his father and all the rest - that's another painful part of his life that he intends to ignore). As Damian does not go to Gotham, he prefers to visit more unusual places so as not to attract attention from the League of Assassins or superheroes until he meets Jon through a terrible accident

As we know Jon gets involved with political stuff, global warming, social causes and stuff

Well, there's a war going on somewhere and now he has a group of refugees in danger. Damian decides to act like a mercenary and protect that small town full of innocent people (he's trying to redeem himself for the crimes he committed) and then Jon arrives to save the day. be superboy

they meet there, Damian doesn't say anything about his past and who he is, but Jon falls in love with the mysterious mercenary with the green eyes, and they end up having a brief relationship together. Jon wants a serious relationship, but Damian denies it, thinking it's stupid

The war ends and Damian leaves, leaving a saddened and hurt Jon behind

Years later (now both with 27) the Justice League listens to the rumor that Ras is dead and the new king commands the League of Assassins, it just makes everyone nervous but since the new leader does nothing against the world, everyone starts to ignore it until the day that a League of Assassins infighting ensues

Former loyal members the old doctrines don't like the new king and started attacking civilians, the justice league gets involved to protect the civilians and then Jon arrives to find Damian leading the attack against the former traitor members

I like to think that in their brief time together Jon gave Damian a dark green sea stone as beautiful as his eyes and Damian gave Jon a gift too, a drawing of the place where they first met

both still keep the gifts and even after so many years they still think about each other. Jon has no hope in finding that handsome mercenary again and "hey! He is actually the new cult leader who everyone is talking about!"

I really love this idea because Damian unlearned everything alone because he wanted it, after that angry state in his young age (that anger is just a trauma response to me) he just realize how fucked up everything was then "nope thanks" and stand up and leave

I'm sorry for bothering you with this but I want to share it with someone. I hope you have a good day and rest well - 🌻

not a bother, I love hearing new ideas! And this one seems so fleshed out, so you've clearly thought it about it a lot! Are you going to write a fic on it? That'd be cool!

But I agree and I think that's the best thing about Damian? Is that there's always that feeling that he would move on eventually/help people, with or without Gotham. He is inherently kind, and that's the coolest part about him. Despite all the anger and skills and trauma, he is kind and he always will be. bad writers be dammed!

And then Jon sees that and gets that and is just so mystified by this boy who is happily standing up to the world ALL BY HIMSELF like...fuckin' whoa.

But then it's almost a 'secret royalty' situation and Jon finds out not only about his League lineage but BATMAN and is like 'shit he's even cooler????' and then to see him be a hero still even after all that is like. He's smitten and there's nothing he can do about it.

love it, thank you for sharing it with me!

[stevie-petey]

I wanna send in head cannons too! Sorry this is long as shit❤️

Steve used to flex having a pool so the other kids would wanna come over.

Bug thinks of really good, snarky, clever comebacks but never say any of them out loud cause she feels mean when she does

Jonathan taught but how to drive, he nearly had a heart attack but he still taught her ( neither can parallel park)

Nancy used to wear glasses but stopped in the beginning of highschool out of embarrassment

Bug never thought about her looks until highschool, she was always a bit of a tomboy but growing up her style kinda changed into a more feminine one. She doesn't think she's pretty. She doesn't think she's ugly either, but she rarely feels pretty.

Will feels awkward around Steve. He knows that something happened with him and Jonathan, and him even though he doesn't know what it was he still feels conflicted. Steve will give all the kids rides and will just sits quietly while the rest of the group talks over each other.

Bugs nightmares got worse after going into the tunnels. All she sees is will running around desperately trying to crawl out. Sometimes she's in there with him but they just keep going in circles and she can't get him out.

Bug put glow in the dark stars on her ceiling for Jonathan. Now whenever Steve comes over he can't feel comfort in the light because he knows it wasn't meant for him.

Mike and bug definitely do some mad scientist shit. Mike thinks up crazy things and bug is too curious to stop him. Yes they have causes small fires, no one was hurt but flammables have been hidden inside the wheeler home. ( You blow up one toaster suddenly you're not allowed to use one unsupervised)

Steve plays basketball with Lucas and teaches him everything he knows.

Dustin puts flowers or little trinkets on/ near mews grave. Not enough to cause suspicion from his mom, but enough to show his remorse.

At any family reunion if there's a baby Steve will be holding them. If they cry he'll spend the rest of the time trying to cheer them up. ( His baby cousins cry when they have to leave and want to stay with him)

Max and El look up to bug as an older sister. Max thinks bug is the bravest person ever, she inspired max to stand up to Billy (the most she can) and El loves how strong bug is. El and max will beg to sleepover and now have " sleep over at moms"

Steve wakes up to bug sitting on the floor reading comics in the middle of the night. No matter how tired he is he'll always join her and laugh at all her " nerd knowledge" ( " did you know there's a comic where peters radioactive semen kills MJ?" " Angel what the fuck is wrong with you?" " Well I didn't write it." )

oh jon 1000% taught bug how to drive and it was the closest theyve ever been to ending their friendship and they had to agree to never talk about the experience ever again (will and dustin had joined for fun and were left traumatized)

steve and babies ,,,, my HEART

all of these are wonderful and lovely and painful (the glow in the dark stars ,,, how dare u) and the mike and bug mad scientists thing made me giggle theyre the same person tbh and no one encourages mike and also berates mike more than bug and their science experiments are proof of that LMAO

[ashleyfanfic]

Oh for the dialogue prompt ask game can I give you Jonerys for the “Still think I’m cute” or “who said that this was a dream?” . You’re writing is always so incredible and I just adore your Jonerys fics so so much!

Beneath the cut is some Jonerys goodness. It’s fluff. Pure fucking fluff.

Daenerys brushed his sweat slicked hair back from his brow, then rested the back of her hand against his skin. He was burning up. She reached to the nightstand and took the bottle of aspirin and removed two white pills. She held them out to him and a glass of water with a bendy straw.

“Yes, Jon, you’re still cute even with the flu. I’m sorry your sick.”

He waved a hand at her, then quickly tucked it back beneath his blanket and gave a shiver. She went to the hall and grabbed another blanket from the linen closet and laid it on top of him.

“I’m going to be here to take care of you,” she said as she sat beside him once more.

“You’ll get sick,” he muttered miserably. Her fingers stroked through his dark hair.

She shook her head even though his eyes were closed. “I’m fairly certain you’ll take care of me if that happens.”

“‘Course. I love you.”

That stopped her. They hadn’t said that to one another yet, and here it happened and he was drifting into sleep with a fever and chills.

She hated herself the way her eyes welled with tears. It was so stupid to cry about that, but she couldn’t help it either. “I love you, too.”

He grunted as she continued to comb through his dark curls. It was only when Ghost plodded into the room and nudged her that she stood. She knew that was a sign he needed to be walked. She leaned down and placed a kiss to Jon’s forehead, then stood from the bed. “I’ll be back. I’m gonna walk Ghost.”

“‘Kay. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Get some rest. I’ll be back.”

“Good,” he murmured. “I miss you when you’re gone.”

She chuckled. “As well as I know you, you’ll be mortified that you admitted all of this to me when you’re feeling better. Get some sleep.”

“You won’t miss me?”

“Too much to put into words,” she giggled. “Sleep, Jon. I’ll make you some soup, too.”

“Marry me,” he grumbled.

She laughed. “Sleep.”

Before she’d even reached the bedroom door, his snores echoed in the room. She knew it was just the fever talking, but she couldn’t stop from grinning at the thought of actually marrying him. She could wait, though. Make sure he grew healthy again and then remind him of all the things he’d said while he was in his fever. If he took it back, she’d still laugh and try to make him feel less awkward about it. But if he didn’t. Well, that was a whole different kettle of fish.

[b-plot-butch]

Hi! For the fic writers ask game, #6!

Hi, thanks for the ask!!

6. are there any fics you reread all the time? from this ask game (I think it’s a great set of questions so if anyone wants to send one in, please do!)

Let’s see…I don’t reread fic often, although I do keep an incredibly extensive collection of fic quotes (we’re talking 75,000+ words) which I LOVE referring back to. But here’s a few:

The Magnus Archives, Good Omens

Tons of fics by Did—they write such good trans Jon, trans Martin, and t4t Jonmartin!!!

Give Me Your Illusions by @ashfae— an outstanding three-thousand-word fic that depicts Crowley so achingly and captivatingly. I have rarely seen a characterization of him in a fic that I loved as much as this one.

South Downs by @summerofspock—a Good Omens human AU that I found at exactly the right time in my life, as I was started to figure out my sexuality. Crowley’s journey through the same process in this fic was so important to me.

Sandman

Dormite En Pace by @theallknowingowl—a WONDERFUL study on Rose, Unity, and Jed and their dreaming lives. The writing style is so…welcoming, we the readers feel so much like we’re being invited into the story. It’s absolutely lovely.

(so live) by @sinkinglighthouses—one of my fucking. GOD. One of my favorite fics I’ve ever read, regardless of fandom. This is a devastating portrait of Dream and his story, his self-perceived lack of a story, his relationships with the most important people in his life. The writing style is gorgeous and stark. Can’t recommend this fic highly enough!!!

The Darkness Hummed by @navigatorwrongway—okay, I haven’t actually reread this yet, because it makes me feel TOO MANY EMOTIONS and I can’t handle it yet. But I think I will, in time. This is a sweeping, incredibly written look at Lucienne’s life—lives, actually, her first one, her life as a raven, and then as a librarian. It’s so??? I don’t even know what to write. Another one of my favorite fics in any fandom. This is the kind of story Lucienne so deeply deserves. I adore her, and this fic so clearly does too.

[walks-the-ages]

"Favorite Doctor Survey" Update February 11th, 2023, ~9pm Eastern Standard Time:

[ID: a screenshot of a pie chart which has a multitude of colors in sections, the largest being labeled with percentages of 23.3%, 16.3%, 11.6%, and two are labled 7% while the rest are not labeled. there is a list of Doctor Who incarnations off to the side with color coding which trails off. end ID]

So far, we have 43 votes, and right now, the 8th Doctor is in the lead with 10 votes, aka 23.3%!

I am extremely delighted with this fact, we need more people to appreciate the Eighth Doctor ~! For anyone who is unaware of it, the Eighth Doctor is not limited to just the 1997 TV movie and a few minutes in Power of the Doctor--

--oh no, this Bestest Boy Ever has not only over a hundred audio dramas (and counting!!) on Big Finish, but also at least 74 Novels to his interation! If you do not know the Eighth Doctor yet, now is your excuse to go watch his movie on the web archive and then dive into the world of Big Finish to experience his adventures with Charley! :D

*Ahem* So, onto the next "Favorite Doctor!"

To no-ones surprise, the Twelfth Doctor, played by Peter Capaldi is holding steady in second place, with 9 votes!

There's a slight error in the graph because I realized I'd forgotten to add his actor and year to the 12th doctor listing and the answers already submitted didn't get edited, so Peter Capaldi's 12th Doctor is not just the dark teal 16.3% you see above, but also the dark blue right underneath it which is the first 2 original votes before the updated info.

In 3rd place, appropriately enough, we have the Third Doctor, played by Jon Pertwee! He currently has 5 votes, aka 11.6%!

Everyone seems to love his dynamics with UNIT, being earthbound, and his fatherly/grandfatherly relationships with his companions-- not to mention his chemistry with The Master!

Tied for 4th place, we have the Sixth and Second Doctors, each with 3 votes, aka 7% !

One, Five, Nine, and Ten each have 2 votes,

Four, The Valyard, The Shalka!Doctor, Eleven, and Thirteen all have 1 vote each,

and so far we have two write-in answers: one vote for "The Lethian Campaign Assassin" (an extremely intriguing wiki article) and one vote for the Master!Doctor from Power of the Doctor :D

Let's keep those votes rolling in! I pretty much have no time limit on this poll lol, i'll just post periodically when there's a significant number of new votes or if someone else takes the lead!

In the meanwhile if you haven't taken the survey yet, here is the link to cast your vote:

And if you'd like to see what all the hype is about for the Eighth Doctor, here is a link to a gorgeous fan-made upscaling of the movie, which was posted to the archive by the uploader-- you can stream it from the archive (make sure you set it to 1080p and give it plenty of time to buffer!)

Or, even better, download the mkv video, and use VLC media player or a similar open source program so you can adjust the playback speed to around 96% for the proper pitch and speed!

When they were doing US to UK conversion they uh. lol they fucked up the framerate so to fix it the movie was sped up on release, so watching it without adjusting the playback speed will make everyone sound like chipmunks comparison to their normal voices, but can also cause some motion sickness from the weird, fast framerate

! So I highly reccomend downloading it so you can adjust the playback speed a custom amount! Oh, and don't forget to favorite to show the upscaler some love for their hard work, they made it into a beautiful masterpiece! [ it literally looks better than my physical dvd i bought years ago lol]

If you'd like to dip your toes into some other, slightly more obscure Doctors featured on this survey, I also have a link to the 4k Upscaling of "the Scream of the Shalka", an animated Doctor Who episode from 2003, which was never continued (on screen at least; it has one short story sequel written available online, "The Feast of the Stone"!

Scream of the Shalka, in 4k HD, again, thanks to fans taking the time to upscale things!

Scream of the Shalka short story sequel:

(please note for fellow Shinigami-Eyes users, there is no transphobia in the short story, the entire BBC website is now universally marked red in shinigami eyes)

[gojuo]

Having to witness Ragged Tarpits and Becky with the Blue Roses fraudulent ass wedding ceremony in fucking DORNE of all places was borderline vomit inducing, but the fact that production got two of the most mid looking actors to play them was most pleasing to me. Ragged especially looked like a foot in Viserys' old, musty unwashed 2 dollar wig. Never getting over it lmaooooooooo.

Anyway, I do not acknowledge any of that shit as canon and D and D better pay for their sins. Inshallah.

IM CRYINGGGGGGG cuz you wanna know why? Bc that RxL wedding bullshit was so obviously D&D dog ass fanfiction because they wrote themselves into a corner by erasing Young Griff from the show, the guy the entire Southern Plotline is going to revolve around in TWOW and ADOS. I mean they literally split his storyline into four and gave it to other characters:

The legitimate heir part and most of the Westerosi lords' support being with Aegon against Dany went to Jon.

The Golden Company + being King of Westeros once Dany arrives and having the people's love and support against her and the final showdown with her went to Cersei.

Varys + Tyrion + JonCon's trauma of the bells went to Dany.

Jorah got JonCon's greyscale.

Jon's arc has never been about being "the rightful hidden heir". Those are the fantasy trope cliches GRRM has always been subverting. It's Aegon that is the legitimate heir, and what you'd expect is for him to save the day and live happily ever after ... but that's not going to happen. The legitimate heir—the true hidden prince—is going to die. Horrifically. And so is the other legitimate Targaryen (Daenerys). But the one that will come out on top is the bastard.

Now, I don't want to make it seem like Jon's character purpose is being a bastard, because that's the wrong conclusion in my opinion. The point and most important aspect to Jon is being Ned Stark's bastard. And then he's going to find out the man he believed to be his father is not his father at all. The issue with this is that people conflate that with legitimacy which is also the wrong conclusion because that's exactly Aegon's plot, not Jon's. The point of R+L=J is the fact that Jon Snow will no longer be Ned Stark's bastard son, which will devastate him.

However ... how-fucking-ever ... D&D decided to forgo this important facet of Jon and did decide to not write the THIRD HEAD OF THE DRAGON into the story but give the part of Aegon's plotline of being the legitimate heir in the books to show!Jon, which left a very big problem: How were they going to justify why there was a legitimacy battle going down between Jon and Dany when Jon can't even be the legitimate heir if his parents are not married? Which they weren't. Because Rhaegar only needed a Visenya for his already-there Rhaenys and Aegon, and as the future king he could just legitimize his own bastards without any trouble. So he did not need to marry Lyanna to have a child with her per se, especially not the Visenya she was supposed to bear him. And I especially do not believe Lyanna was in any way or form in love with him or that she went with him willingly, considering what we know of her.

Besides, when Rhaegar returned from the Tower of Joy after making sure he raped a baby into Lyanna to King's Landing to ride off for the Trident, he said this to Jaime about Elia, Rhaenys and Aegon:

“And the children, them as well,” said Prince Lewyn.

Prince Rhaegar burned with a cold light, now white, now red, now dark. “I left my wife and children in your hands.”

“I never thought he’d hurt them.” Jaime’s sword was burning less brightly now. “I was with the king … ”

ASOS, Jaime VI.

So you see how he still refers to Elia as his wife, meaning no damn annulment took place? He can't even fucking annul a marriage that is fully legal and totally consummated, and prophecy-obsessed Rhaegar 100% would never cast away his two children HE DEEMED TO BE 2/3 HEADS OF HIS THREE-HEADED DRAGON and he sure as fuck did not make Aegon, literally the son he believed to be the PTWP (as seen by Dany's vision in the HOTU), a bastard. D&D just shot themselves in the foot because they gave Young Griff/Aegon's book storyline of being the legitimate heir to Jon and had to make sense of why it would be him to be the legitimate heir when Rhaegar's legal wife was not Lyanna but Elia.

The entire bullshit way RxL went down in the show was just more proof to me that Young Griff is the real Aegon since D&D just had to make Jon a legitimate son. LMFAO.

[hood-ex]

Did you read dark crisis? What are your takes on it, did you like it?

I just watched a YouTube video telling the whole story and I haven't seen you comment on it besides the amazing 'the more things change the more they stay the same' post

I honestly just found the whole thing discombobulating with all the talk of darkness and how it would better or worsen the multiverse. Like ooo the darkness is sentient... or not. It's just created from Pariah's own insanity... or something? (Dude, idk, they talked about it back and forth so much that I couldn't remember what the truth was by the end of it.)

Slade's motivation throughout the story (when he wasn't being mindfucked by the darkness) was ehhh. He wanted everything to end so that people wouldn't have to feel pain like he did when his children died or were hurt. Which, idk, is pretty weird to me since he didn't used to like endangering innocent people and would sometimes protect innocents even if no one paid him. (EDIT: I totally forgot about Slade's involvement with the destruction of Bludhaven when writing this ALKDA. Slade's willingness to protect the innocent depends on who's writing him.) It just seemed a bit out there for him is all. An overreaction, if you will.

Hal and Barry had pretty solid interactions throughout the story. They were getting shit done for sure.

Loved Roy and Dinah's reunion hug.

Black Adam was kind of annoying being all Mr. Doom and Gloom. I understand it was meant to juxtapose the whole theme of light/darkness and hope/despair but whatever. It was also weird af that they made him look like The Rock in one panel.

Gar got an eye patch after getting his eye shot out, and I thought it was interesting how his eye looked perfectly fine when he transformed into a tiger but then a scar appeared across his eye when he transformed into some werewolf looking beast.

Jon's solo fight against the dark army (or whatever the fuck they were called idr) was one of my favorite parts. Mostly because it reminded me of Ponyboy getting his shit rocked during the Greaser vs. Socs rumble.

I like that Clark jumped in to save him from Doomsday at the last second.

Let's see... there were definitely some Titans that could've gotten some more lines in. Some of them didn't really have a major part in the story. They were mostly background fighters.

Dick was not one of those Titans. He had a pretty big role in this story as the "light" in the darkness. Honestly pretty insane that his willpower was so strong that he was able to unpossess himself (he was a candidate to be a Green Lantern at one point though sooo). I thought it was hilarious as fuck when Dick gave his speech to Bruce about his little candle and how he wanted to keep candles lit to bring hope to other people, and then Bruce wordlessly took the candle out of Dick's hand and snapped it with his thumb ASLDKJA, and Dick was all *shocked Pikachu face.*

I mentioned it before but I personally feel a little iffy about how much DC is pushing Dick as the new leader of the future. Mostly because when Bruce previously wanted Dick to become a member of the Justice League, Dick declined. And now Bruce isn't even really giving Dick the option. He's just like, "So anyway the world needs a leader while the JL is on recess annnd that leader is going to be you." Y'know. Despite the fact that being the leader is stressful as fuck and Dick had to step away from two different teams because he was mentally and emotionally worn down from them.

Also, I hate that they didn't keep all the events of this story contained to one book. At one point Damian was like, "Brb," and then later he randomly showed up with some more heroes to join the fight. Like bruh. I'd rather read his little adventure in this story rather than have to hunt down whatever the hell he was doing in some other book.

And the veeery ending with Waller and her idea to get rid of metahumans just made me think of Nightwing: New Order. I'm doubtful that idea is going to feel new or fresh in any capacity, but we shall see.

All in all, the event was kind of just... meh. The art was probably my favorite part. It gave us some good whump shots of Dick and Jon. It also made Dick look more intense and serious which made him feel like his old self. That I appreciated.

[terrorbitch]

          hello everyone! i am not able to do a lot of replies for the next few hours but i do have some wants/needs as far as plots go for my muses. so please like this post if you’re interested in any pairings/plots under the cut and i’ll message you and we can plot and eventually get some starters out.

rose (natalia dyer) needs to be super duper corrupted, tbh. whether it be an older person or just someone her age that turns her into like, a nymphomaniac or even a murder or something wild. i want to write her sm but it should be something dark or depraved.

mckenna (grace van patten), scout (madelaine petsch) & tatum (minka kella) wants to dom some guy (strap or not lmao). that’s it.

ghostface plots. i have a few muses i can throw into it! harvey (jon bernthal) or max (jacob elordi) but i’d also be down for the opposite and throw one of my girls at them.

i miss using crosby (oliver jackson cohen) so maybe a corrupt super hero or another villain trying to take over and they eventually become a power couple? orrr we could have a thing where he sort of takes on an apprentice and he has a soft spot for her? or like, a little silly hero who is getting fucked up by other villains and he randomly has a heart, saves her, and begrudgingly becomes a good guy!

i have sooo many h*rry p*tter muses! pls write some shit with them.

give my pretty boys some milfs. specifically mikey (paul mescal), walter (jeremy allen white), gunner (kj apa), ferg (logan lerman) & bear (mason gooding).

age gaps in general. i will give you my milfs for anyone.

gimme a priest who ends up fucking one of my innocent gals.

let’s do a multi muse plot except its your muse dating all 3 of the van cortlant sisters (mia healey, samara weaving, grace van patten) with or without knowing.

a plot where one of our muses is a ghost who can walk and be “there” in the house that they were killed/died in, but they can’t leave it. so the live muse finds themselves a recluse, trying to get to know the ghost, falling in love w them, and doing fucking scary magic to potentially make them come alive again. evil undertones welcome, or just campy ghost stuff.

dads fucking the babysitter, full stop.

give jackson (chris evans) or dax (oscar isaac) or chester (pedro pascal) or harvey (jon bernthal) threesome threads w pretty girls/women.

[cellsshapedlikestars]

I love random dating apps/show jonsa stories so if you can think up anything for a jonsa Omegle I'd love to read it. I've been wracking my brain for an hour now retyping and deleting some suggestions but Idk if any would be of interest.

They keep getting connected to each other, long lost friend, they're influencers making a vid, they're roommates and where bored so they check it out only to meet one of their exes. Idek. I've never used it but I've seen clips so... If you can't make it work totally fine!

Anon, I will admit this one really stumped me.

I have never used Omegle, though I have used ChatRoulette when I was much younger, so I know the basic concept, but I could not figure out an interesting enough plot. So... I wrote something and sort of shoved a reference to Omegle into it?

As a side note, I've been wanting to write a guitarist!Jon and groupie!Sansa fic for a while, but what I had in mind was definitely not this? So if you ever see a similar fic from me...

read it on ao3 here:

ephemera, chapter 35

.

If you had asked Jon what his biggest wish was even an hour ago, he would have said it's already come true. He gets to make music for a living, and that's all he's wanted since the moment he first picked up a guitar when he was barely big enough to hold it.

Now, though, the thing he wishes for more than anything else, is for Theon to shut the fuck up.

For as much as Jon loves music, loves playing, loves his bandmates – yes, even Theon – this touring thing has wiped him out. They're on their last leg, just two more shows before Jon can finally relax again, and both shows are here in Winterfell. After that last show, he can just... go home. To his own bed, not this stupid hotel that Davos insists they stay in, because it's close to the venue and Davos is worried that if he lets them out of his sight, he'll lose them. Well, Theon, specifically. Davos learned the hard way that he needs to keep a tight leash on Theon, or else he might go out partying, get blackout drunk, go home with some girl, and miss the concert.

It's hard to have a show without the lead singer.

But that means Jon is stuck in a hotel room with Theon since he is – quote – the most responsible one. Jon would give anything to be rooming with Grenn or Satin, but Grenn is a pushover and Satin is too apathetic to stop Theon from leaving, so it's up to Jon.

Theon, stuck inside his hotel room and unable to go out and party like he wants to, is currently on his phone, talking to someone – or, someones, from the number of voices Jon's heard coming from the speaker on Theon's phone (because gods forbid he wear headphones). It's like he's trying as hard as possible to make Jon miserable, which... might not be too far off track. Theon takes joy in making him miserable.

Jon ignores whatever's happening on the other bed, shoving his headphones into his ears and trying to read, because that usually helps him sleep.

He gets through a few chapters of his book before he hears a distant knock through his headphones, and Theon throws himself out of bed and goes to answer it. He must have ordered food, even though they ate not too long ago.

Instead of food, though, when Theon opens the door, there's four girls standing outside, and their excited voices cut straight through Jon's supposedly noise-canceling headphones.

Jon's in a pair of ratty sweatpants and an old Dark Sister t-shirt, laying back on his bed with a book propped on his stomach, when Theon lets the girls into the room. He pushes himself upright and yanks out his headphones and says, “Theon, what the fuck.”

“Girls,” Theon gives them his most charming smile, “I'm sure you recognize our guitarist.” Jon stares at him in utter disbelief. “I invited some fans over,” Theon shrugs, smile turned from charming to shit-eating, because he figured out a way to get around Davos's rules.

“I can't believe it was really you guys on Omegle!” the one girl giggles, though Jon has no idea what that word even means. She's blonde and just seems... so young. The others look a bit older, but the blonde seems young.

“Come in, make yourselves at home,” Theon gestures into the room and, specifically, the minibar.

“Theon,” Jon swings his legs out of bed and stands, and his tone seems to stop them all in their tracks. “How old are they?”

“What?” Theon asks, like it hadn't even crossed his mind, because of course it hadn't.

Jon turns to the group of girls. Three of them had already started for the minibar – the blonde and two brunettes – but one of them hangs back, a redhead that seems uncomfortable being here, from the way she's got her arms crossed over her stomach. She's got her phone clutched in her hands and Jon wouldn't be surprised if she had 911 on speed dial or something. Maybe it's because he's that person too, but he can always spot the responsible one in a group of friends.

“We're legal,” one of the brunettes assures, and Jon might not have Theon's way with women, but even he can hear the flirtation in her voice.

“Sorry, I'm gonna need proof of that,” Jon sighs, bringing a hand up to rub at his eyes and wishing he could just leave and go to Grenn and Satin's room. But Davos would kill him for leaving Theon alone, and even if that weren't the case, Jon's not leaving these girls alone with Theon until he confirms that they are, in fact, adults.

“Are you carding us?” the other brunette giggles, though she's blushing and her flirty voice isn't as bold as the first one.

“Seems like I have to,” Jon shoots a glare at Theon.

The girls all dig into their purses and present IDs to him. Margaery Tyrell, 22. Jeyne Poole, 21. Myrcella Baratheon, 19. Sansa Stark, 21. He was right that the blonde was younger than the rest.

“I promise they aren't fake,” Margaery says, pulling out her phone. “See? We're in university.” She shows him a photo of what appears to be a sorority, and he can see all four of them sprinkled in with the other girls.

They may not be minors, but nineteen still seems a bit too young, and Jon wonders when that happened. He was nineteen not that long ago, but his life has changed so drastically since then, it feels like a lifetime, and not just five years. He has to remind himself they aren't actually much younger than he is.

“Do we pass inspection?” Margaery asks, batting her eyes at him, and Jon knows that if they're adults, he can't really tell them to leave. They're allowed to make their own choices (or mistakes).

He gets back onto his bed and picks his book back up as Theon turns on music and starts pulling drinks from the minibar, and Jon proceeds to ignore whatever is going on.

After a while, the bed next to him dips, and he looks up to see the redhead sitting on the edge of it, one of the cups from the room's bathroom clutched in her hand as she picks at the paper lip of it with one pink-painted nail.

“What are you reading?” she asks, and Jon swears her blush sweeps from her cheeks all the way down her throat and chest, disappearing beneath the neckline of her dress. She's pretty. All the girls are, but if Jon's being honest, he's always had a thing for redheads, and this one is no exception.

“Oh, uh,” he keeps one finger on the page he was reading and lets the book close around it to show the cover, only realizing then that he's probably about to shatter her vision of who he is. Jon knows he's the mysterious one in the band. The guitarist who doesn't really speak in interviews, who tends to wear a hat and sunglasses when they go out, who rarely smiles. “It's historical fiction?”

She looks at the cover and her brows furrow. “My dad reads those,” she says, and for some reason, Jon wishes he could sink into the floor and disappear. Because the thing is, he's not dark and mysterious and sexy – he's the boring dad of the group. He normally doesn't care when fans figure this out, but...

“They're good,” he defends, and when her eyes move back to his face, she smiles for the first time since she entered their suite. On the other side of the room, towards the living area, Theon is dancing with the rest of the girls. The redhead, Sansa, looks over her shoulder at them and her face turns an even deeper shade of pink than before. He's getting the sense it wasn't her idea to come here tonight. “So I have to ask,” he says, and she turns back to him, “what the fuck is Omegle?”

She lets out an embarrassed giggle and says, “it's an app. You video chat with random people. It's stupid, but we sometimes do it when we're bored.”

“Oh, that's what he was doing,” Jon's eyes flick to Theon, who seems to be focusing most of his attention on the one named Jeyne.

“We didn't believe it was really him at first,” she says, fingernail still picking at the paper lip of her cup. He wonders if it's filled with alcohol or water. “Then he turned the camera around and you were there, too.” Of course he did. Jon hadn't even noticed.

“So you are fans,” he confirms, though of course they are. Why else would they go to a stranger's hotel room at night?

“We mentioned we were going to your concert tomorrow, and he realized we lived in the city...” she trails off, throwing another glance at her friends. She doesn't need to finish – and then he invited us here.

Jon's never been surprised that they have female fans, but he is sort of surprised she's a fan. Between her pink nails and her baby blue dress and the fact that she's apparently in a sorority, she doesn't exactly seem the type to be at one of their concerts. But then again, Jon should know better about stereotyping off looks, considering his public persona.

“Well, I hope it's a good show,” he says, because he has no idea what else to say. He's never had Theon's way with flirting. Except... no, he shouldn't flirt with her. She's a fan, and Jon tried the whole groupie thing early on in their tour, back when it was new and exciting, but he'd learned quickly he isn't really the type for one night stands – especially ones that only see him as Jon Snow of the Night's Watch. “It's my job to make sure Theon doesn't get too wasted and miss it.”

She lets out another light laugh and says, “I'm here to make sure my friends don't do anything stupid. Though I'm not sure I'm doing a good job of that, since I couldn't even stop them from going to a stranger's hotel room.”

He'd bet anything there's water in her cup.

“So, uh, how long have you been a fan?” he asks, and can't help but cringe when he hears the words come out of his mouth. He really is terrible with women.

“Oh,” she also seems to cringe a bit. “I only really started listening a few weeks ago when Margie heard you were coming here. She and Myrcella heard your song in that Oberyn Martell movie and have been obsessed ever since. They bought tickets and Jeyne and I agreed to go...” She looks at him, eyes wide and panicked and says, “but I really like it, I promise!”

He can't help it – he laughs, and it almost feels like relief. She isn't a groupie, after all.

“What a glowing review,” he grins, and she turns, somehow, even brighter pink.

“Are you mad we're here?” she asks, eyeing his book again. She clearly understands that he wasn't aware they were coming.

“No,” he lies. Or maybe it's not a lie. He's not having the worst time right now... “I mean, we're supposed to be getting rest, and I'm supposed to keep Theon out of trouble, but this is actually pretty standard behavior for him, so I'm not surprised, and I stopped being mad about it a long time ago.”

“He reminds me of-” she starts, then seems to stop herself.

“Of what?”

She presses her lips together in thought and shoots another look behind her at the group, before saying, “he sort of reminds me of the frat guys at school.”

Jon lets out another snort of laughter, setting his book aside completely, though he didn't think to check what page he was on. “If we hadn't done the band thing – if we'd actually gone to uni – he probably would have been,” Jon admits.

If they hadn't met when they were so young, forming their first band in Theon's garage at the age of twelve, Jon probably wouldn't be friends with him now. Theon is obnoxious and annoying, but he's also an extraordinary front man and likely the only reason they ever got a record deal.

“But not you?” she asks, head tilted, eyes raking over him curiously. He wishes he were wearing something better than sweatpants and this old, washed out band tee.

“I'm not big on social interaction.”

“I couldn't tell,” she deadpans, pointing at his book, but she starts to giggle when he narrows his eyes at her, and Jon realizes she's flirting with him. He wasn't sure before, or if she just came over here to get away from Theon, but no. She's flirting with him.

Jon doesn't do groupies. He implemented that rule halfway through the tour, and he tries to keep that in mind right now. On one hand, he knows that one night stands with groupies don't do great things for his self esteem and overall mental health, but on the other hand... he'd really like to see this girl naked.

She isn't a groupie, his mind whispers. Not really.

There's a crash from the other side of the room, and Sansa whips around to look at her friends, letting out a gasp and standing up when she sees that the youngest one – Myrcella – has tripped over the coffee table in the living area.

“I'm fine!” Myrcella says from the ground, and she's giggling hysterically, so Jon assumes she's alright, just tipsy.

There's worry on Sansa's face, though, and Jon knows he should probably shut this down. It's getting towards one in the mornig, and they have to get up early to do an interview before heading off to prep for the concert. He's let this go on too long as it is.

“Maybe we should call it a night,” he says, voice loud enough to project over the music, and he gets out of bed and heads over into the living area, where Margaery and Jeyne are helping their friend up. “We've got an early morning.”

“Come on,” Theon groans, trying to give him a look, pleading eyes flicking between Jeyne and Jon.

“And what happens when you're too tired and hung over for the concert and we have to cancel, again?” Jon tries to reason, though he wishes they could do this in private and not in front of the girls.

Theon groans, but he doesn't argue, and Jon wonders if he's finally growing the fuck up. Then Theon perks back up and says, “backstage passes! We'll get your names on the list.”

That seems to placate both him and the girls, and Jon won't argue with that. It means he gets to see Sansa again, even though he knows he shouldn't want to.

The other three girls grab their things, shooting him exaggerated pouts as they do, though they keep breaking and laughing. Jon has never felt more like a grouchy old man than he does now.

“You have a way to get home safe?” Jon asks Sansa, because she's the only one who hasn't been drinking at this strange, pop-up hotel room party. He'd offer to get them a car himself, but that means asking for their address and he's not about to do that.

Sansa nods and opens an Uber app on her phone and says, “car's ten minutes away, guys.” And then, as her friends say goodbye to Theon, she turns to Jon and says, “I'll see you tomorrow night, then?”

“You'll be on the list,” he confirms.

When they're gone, Theon turns on him and says, “dude. What the fuck.”

“The fuck is that we have to get up at seven tomorrow and I'm not getting in trouble because you invited a bunch of girls over without even checking that they weren't underage.”

“Alright, not my finest moment, but don't act all superior like you weren't drooling over that redhead.”

Jon refuses to respond to this, and gets into bed and turns out his light and ignores Theon's grumbling.

[esther-dot]

'Why are Aria stans so obsessed with her becoming QITN and write increasingly deranged metas about that happening?'

So, ok, as someone that watched this shit unfold in realtime back in 2019 let me jump in. Aria fans are now fixated on QITN being her endgame because it was Sansa's endgame. Her stans are like toddlers. You know when a toddler hates apples but then sees a fellow toddler at the playground eating apples so now they want an apple too? Yeah, this is literally what is happening. Trust me if Sansa never became QITN and instead become Lady of the Vale or something Aria stans would want that for her endgame too. I'm sorry but Aria was a literal book fan and show fan fave and there would be weekly viral tweets with tens of thousands of likes praising how BaDaSs she was for 8 years and her fans think that GRRM told D and D Aria became QITN in this triumphant moment and they were like '.....Nah, we're going to give that to Sansa who half the fanbase spent close to a decade hating on....thanks for the input tho George.' Like, really? Really?

This is how I know all those endgames came from Martin. Fan fave Jon gets exiled North and White Soccer Mom Feminist icon KhAlEesI goes dark, carpet bombs a city, and gets killed by another fan fave and people think this shit came from D and D? It killllls me how half the fanbase is still committed to this fiction that D and D just totally pulled those endings out of their ass. It makes no sense.

D and D knew all they had to do to stick the landing on GOT for it to be hailed as one of the best shows ever on television was to give Jon and/or Dani some triumphant coronation after defeating the Evil Queen Cersei and that shit would have been praised by every normie that watched GOT for a decade and their legacies as good, or at least competent, showrunners would have been secured. But they had to stick with those endgames to make GOT still seem like an adaptation of Martin's vision. I would have loved to be in on the meeting where Martin told D and D 'So, yeah it's King Bran, Dani goes dark and Jon kills her, Jon then goes back beyond the wall, and Aria goes off columbusing into the new world....btw, I'm not finishing the last two books so even I don't know how to get to those endpoints. Have fun!!' D and D knew they were fucked in that moment lmao.

(about this ask)

Lmaoooo. Can you imagine? So funny.

Someone said shortly after GoT ended that D&D should have just taken the story in their own direction because their interpretation of the characters and the plot points were so misaligned by the end that even if you accept the endgames as Martin's (which I do), you just can't wrap your mind around them in GoT-verse. And I think if they had, they would not have had Jon or Dany on the throne, so the possibility amuses me. They probably would have had Cersei kill them and stay queen or something😂 I think they're personally too into shock value to have ever been down for a HEA for anyone except a Lannister!

Everyone I knew who watched GoT loved Arya (I did too!), but I have seen comments about her being underappreciated by the fandom which baffled me. I guess it's because her endgame wasn't in political power, so the theory is she didn't get what Martin intended for her because D&D were doing fanservice, but that makes no sense. Sansa was hated, Bran had no fanbase to speak of, Dany would have ended up on top if that was the only factor. Oh well. I think most people reject part, if not most, of the endgame, so I guess I can't act shocked. Jon's ending hurts me a lot, so his is where I allow myself to dabble in a little delusion. My poor boy.