#Tagged Jimmy Switch Writes

[tagged-jimmy-switch-writes]

The Bebop Crew, a Splatoon fanfic or something...

So I've had this idea and these characters kicking around since Splatoon 2, and i finally did something with them. YAY!

Just a little slice-of-life joint about a squad of Octolings. I don't know how much of this I will write but I have a chapter or so worth and I wanted to share it with my Sploon friends and anyone else who wants to read it.

Anyway...

Session One: Jupiter Jazz

The Bluefin Depot looked as stunning as ever today. The sight of the place almost brought a tear to Jazzmine's eyes. It had been closed for conservation efforts for ages, as the Bluefin Bay had been so littered and trashed for so long. The folks over the Bay had finally deemed it clean enough to reopen, enacting strict rules to keep it from falling into disrepair again.

Jazzmine Spiegel stood at the back of the spawn pool. She had never played with these three Inklings before, but that was the way of the Turf War. Your best friend could be your sworn enemy three minutes from now, and strangers could be fierce comrades in arms. Jazz spun her Neo Sploosh-o-Matic around one finger, waiting for the whistle to begin the match.

The whistle finally came, and the four players split from the spawn. Jazzmine made her way up the left side, covering the turf with fuchsia ink. Jazz found the fuchsia and lime palette boring. She preferred purple and orange. Other than super special Splatfest colors, those two were her favorite.

She hopped down to Shthe second layer of the stage. The spawn points rested at the top layer, outside the opposing team's reach. Once she came to the small pool of water at the center of the stage, she scoped out the surrounding area. There were splotches of lime ink around but most of the other team had missed the area.

The stage received an update during the Bay's cleanup initiative. Inkable walls appeared at the farthest edge of the stage where Jazz remembered grates. She could slip up that wall and be well into enemy territory, instead of trying and failing to throw a Squid Beakon across the water. She laughed as the memories rushed to her mind, spraying ink on the wall and dipping into swimming form.

It was harder to see while swimming, as her eyes rested on her back. Inklings and Octolings changed to their Cephalo form when swimming through their ink, returning to their common 'Kid' form to run. There was also a Ghost form taken after being splatted. Jazz had theories about it, but nobody was truly certain. Some things about Turf War weren't meant to be understood... such as spawn camping with Chargers STILL being legal.

Jazz spotted an enemy and put her Charger thoughts away. Her Special meter was full so she fired her Tenta Missiles. After briefly locking on several enemy targets, she fired her projectiles. The Special Power Up chunks in her shirt powered her missiles up. She'd spotted three targets on her map, making about twelve shots. The octoling she'd spotted swam into her missile by mistake, instantly getting splatted. Jazz cackled as she watched the girl's 'ghost' fly toward the enemy spawn.

The other two came out of hiding to avoid the ink missiles and regrouped on the right corner of the Depot. Jazz gave chase, meeting a teammate on the way. She and the squid with the Tenta Camo Brella covered the foe's lime ink with fuchsia. Sqiud laid down Ink Mines periodically along the way. The octoling, whom Jazz had splatted, fired her Clash Blaster at them, but Squid Girl spread her Brella to shield. The enemy's blaster ran out of ink, giving Jazz time to splat her.

She moved to fire on her enemy's approaching teammate, but the front of her weapon fell off at her feet! She panicked and continued firing, splatting her foe at the last second. She grabbed the missing piece of her Sploosh and tried to reattach it, being splatted by a stray Tenta Missile. The whistle blew as she flew back to the spawn in her Ghost form.

Jazz's team won by a sizeable margin. Jazz didn't stick around for a photo with her team. She scooped up the pieces of her busted weapon and ran for the train. She tapped at her phone the whole ride home, trying to contact Eddie and ask them to fix her Sploosh before Splatfest that weekend.

\/\/\/\/\/

Eddie Ein stared intently at their computer screen, waiting for Chess's next move. Playing board games over Splatnet was their favorite pastime; chess and Shogi were their favorite games. This game had lasted for days, as Eddie's games usually did. Chess the sea snail was Edd's only equal. They pondered what Chess would do next, thinking through the knocks at the door that grew louder over time.

"One-one, I know you can hear me!" Called a voice that sounded like Jazz. Edd ignored the girl at their door and typed a message into their Splatnet chat. "ONE-ONE PLEASE!"

"Edward is very busy right now. Please hang up, and call back later!" The small octoling with the bright orange tentacles finally replied. Chess still hadn't moved, so whatever Jazzmine needed would have to wait.

"Eddie, I know your game is important, but I need you to fix my Sweetheart before Splatfest this weekend!" Jazz pleaded.

"Leave your Sploosh at the door and it will be repaired in due time..." Eddie told their teammate through the door. A small flap in the door swung open, and Jazz deposited her weapon into Edd's apartment.

"How's the new song coming, by the way?" Jazz asked when she poked her head through the door, taking care not to get her spiky tentacles stuck. Eddie sighed loudly from their computer screen.

"It's been at a standstill because it's missing something... The track is open on my music software, laughing in my face. YES! CHESS HAS FINALLY MADE A MOVE!" They eagerly clicked back to their chess game, swiftly analyzing and plotting their next move. After taking it, they looked at Jazz. "Would you listen to my song and perhaps play guitar for me?" They asked, their bright orange eyes meeting Jazz's soft purples. The taller octoling grinned with intrigue.

"I don't see why not. Wouldn't Jet or Vivi play better than me?" Jazz could feel Edd rolling their eyes at that.

"Jet is grinding his life away in preparation for Splatfest, and I do not wish to deal with the attitude of Vivian Valentine. Let alone his floppy fretwork, which has no place in my music. It must be you, my wonderful Jupiter Jazz." Jazz chuckled and blushed at their friend's words. Edd was eccentric and sometimes tough to understand, but they were always honest.

"Could I come to listen now, or would you prefer later?"

"The lab is in shambles due to this chess game. Your weapon repairs should be finished by tonight, so could you come by tomorrow? Ooh, and bring Crusty Seanwiches, please!" Edd's face brightened at the thought of their favorite sloppy sandwich. Jazz nodded and grinned, twirling her bright pink tentacles.

"I'll be there! You're the best, One-One!" Jazz cheered as the door flap closed.

"This is true..." Edd bragged. Chess's next move trapped Edd's king, much to their chagrin. They typed 'GG' into the chat and closed the Splatnet window. They grabbed the pieces of Jazz's Neo Sploosh-o-Matic and got to work. They couldn't wait for Jazz to hear their amazing new song.

\/\/\/\/\/

The Piranha Pit was drenched in dark blue ink, which was how Jet always left it. He'd played several matches today, but the Pit was closing soon. He fist-bumped his teammates one final time as he looked down at his stage map. He took a screenshot for his records. Now he would Super Jump to the nearest eats.

"Midnight Black! You're still kicking around in Turf War?" Jet heard from behind him, spoken by a voice he'd sooner not hear. He turned around to see his squad mate's brother Vivian. How could Vio be remotely related to someone so insufferable? Oh well, it wasn't her fault her brother was a traitor.

"Vicious!" Jet hissed at the boy with the long white tentacles. The ocotling sneered at Jet. Jet loved pushing this terrible boy's buttons, especially when Vivi tried so hard to push Jet's.

"I'm not a part of your silly squad anymore. Call me Vivi like everyone else." Vivi rolled his eyes as he replied. It was all Jet could do not to laugh in his face. Jet pulled his tentacles out of their tight braids, letting them take their usual afro shape.

"Well, Vivi, I am still part of the Bebop Crew. So call me Jet or don't bother calling me." Jet fired back, his hands gripping his Dualies tightly. Crow and Raven had seen him through many matches. He loved the Dark Tetras with all his heart.

"Well, Jet, I'd say it was nice to see you, but I wouldn't want to lie to your face." Vivi cackled as he turned to leave.

"Wait. I want to hear it from the seahorse's mouth. Did you really give up Turf War? Or did you leave the Bebop Crew to chase some squid girl?" That stopped Vivi in his tracks. Jet thought his face would get stuck in that sneer. His eyes narrowed as he looked back at Jet.

"Who told you about her? My nosy kid sister, I'm sure!" Vivi spat. A smirk came across Jet's face at the other boy's anger.

"Wow, you really are a totally different person. Vicious would never miss an opportunity to brag about his new squeeze!" Jet laughed. Vivi rolled his eyes so hard Jet thought they might fall off.

"I don't see how that's any of your business. Does the Bebop Crew truly miss me that much?" Vivi spat back. Jet could feel the venom in his former cohort's words, but it only made him laugh harder. He turned away from Vivi, leaving him to seethe.

"I'd say it was good to see you, Vi, but I wouldn't want to lie to your face." Jet grinned at his parting shot, knowing it would eat Vivi up. Vivi twirled one of his long white tentacles.

"See you around, Jet Black. The displeasure is all mine." Vivian shot back before turning to run over to his friends.

"I assure you, Vivian Valentine, it is not." Jet popped off as Vivi joined his posse of inklings. Sure enough, Orange Range was among them. Jet would recognize that braid anywhere. He dismissed all thoughts of Vicious and his new squad, checking his phone to see where the Tidal Tacos truck was parked today. Ooh, nice and close! He dipped into a puddle of ink and shot off in a glorious Super Jump. Time for tacos!

\/\/\/\/\/

Jazz had an hour or so of free time before band practice so she would watch a match. Her sister's shift at the Arowana Mall's food court should be over by the time she arrived. She caught up with Saturn and the two bought food from a different spot in the mall. They could see the stage area of the mall decently from their table, and the business had a screen to watch on in case they couldn't see.

This match was Orange vs. Purple. Jazz felt a hint of jealousy seeing her favorite palette. She looked closer at the players on the screen and realized her best friend Vincent was on the Orange team. "Rings, lookit! Volaju is playing!" She told Saturn, who nodded in between bites of her burger. Seaside Snackages made the best burgers in Inkopolis, according to Rings and Jazz.

Jet sometimes protested, but he didn't like burgers that much anyhow. His heart was with Tidal Tacos forever and always. They did make banging tacos, but Jazz could never find the truck during business hours.

The whistle blew to start the match. Jazz paid close attention to the Orange team for the first part of the match, but a player on Purple's team distracted her before long. This pompadour player was using a Stringer weapon. Jazz had heard of these but had never seen one in action. This beast fired three rounds of ink at a time. Jazz saw a shot fall short of hitting Vinny, but he got splatted moments after as the rounds exploded!

Jazz knew immediately that she had to meet this bow slinger! She watched as they threw a Toxic Mist bomb at another foe, trapping them in a purple cloud so their Special could splat them. The pompadour octoling unleashed the Killer Wail 5.1, a set of smaller but more concentrated sound attacks than the old-school Wail Jazzmine remembered. This octoling must be from the Splatlands since the hot new weapons usually arrived there first.

The match ended soon, and the purple team devastated the orange team. Poor Volaju and his cohorts never stood a chance. Jazz and Rings caught up with him for a moment as the teams shook hands after the match. Jazz saw the pompadour again and yelled out to them. "Sorry, I didn't catch your name on the screen. I hope it isn't rude, but I absolutely need to see that main weapon you're using."

"Not at all. She's pretty, isn't she?" Pompadour cheered. Jazz tried not to blush at the word 'pretty' since this octoling and their weapon both fit that description. "This here's a Tri-Stringer! Stringers are all the rage in the Splatlands!"

"So the exploding rounds are a charged shot? Incredible! One-One would flip out over this thing!" Jazz fawned over the weapon. Pompadour's ears perked up at that.

"You know One-One? I use the Splash Cannon they invented sometimes too!" The purple octoling replied with a quizzical look. Jazz nodded.

"We're in the same squad. They usually test their prototype weapons on all of us..." Jazz twisted one of her tentacles as the awful memory of the first Cannon test rushed to her mind. The Pompadour in front of her twitched and raised an eyebrow suddenly. "Something wrong?"

"You're with the Bebop Crew? They're, like, my favorite squad ever!" Seemed it was their turn to fawn. Jazz chuckled loudly, as she usually did when she met a fan. It always surprised her that anyone knew her squad without facing them in a match.

"Yeah! I founded the squad. Well, Jet and I." She mentioned. Pomp gasped again.

"YOU'RE JUPITER JAZZ? Can I have your autograph?!" They squeaked excitedly and felt around in their pockets. "Oof, I don't have anything you can sign..."

"And I don't have a pen. You know, the Crew has been short a member since Vivi left. I think you'd make a great fit! What was your name by the way?" Jazz asked. The purple one tripped over their words nervously for a moment. "Wow, I didn't think the Crew was famous..."

"You guys are all anyone talks about in the Splatlands! You're as famous as the Fabulous Killjoys are in Inkopolis Plaza!"

"I don't know about all that..." Jazz blushed ten shades of pink. Her face matched her tentacles. Her sister Rings laughed at her. "

But yeah, my name is Mulberri Stardust, and I would love to join the Bebop Crew!” Purple finally answered, a huge grin across their face. Jazz blushed even harder at their pretty smile. She pushed Rings toward Volaju, sensing she was about to make a comment that might embarrass Jazz.

“You’d have to meet the rest of the squad, and One-One might want to test your skills, but I’ll put in a good word for you!” Jazz cheered. A squid girl approached Mulberri and hugged and kissed them as Mulberri told them about Jazz’s offer. Whoa, their girlfriend was cute, too! Jazz tried not to blush any more than she already had.

“Neat! I’m Scatta! If they join your squad, you’ll see me a lot!” The squid girl mentioned. Jazz smiled as they parted ways. Jazz and Rings caught the same train, but Jazz got off sooner to make it to band practice.

\/\/\/\/\/

Band practice had gone quite well, as per usual. For a band with eight members, practice meetups were surprisingly frequent. Sometimes they were missing a horn or some keys, but only because half of them had other music projects or jobs. Jazz played bass in the band, be it a bass guitar or a double bass. Her lobster girlfriend Sandy Claws played the drums. Krillin Clubs the shrimp played keyboards.

Krillin had brought half the band with him after his last band fell out. Dizzy Diamonds the smooth sax inkling had joined with him, as did Spiny Spades the urchin on trombone, and Hammar Hearts the singing shark.

Mars Volta was their new guitarist, a fiercely talented starfish girl. She had wiped the floor with Vivi when he challenged her to a music battle and joined the band when he decided to leave. She brought Farrah Legator with her, an alligator who played a killer trumpet. The eight of them formed Asteroid Bluefin and played jazz that was anything but smooth, inspired by the soundtrack to Jazz’s favorite show.

Singing about space and bounty hunters always made for a fun practice and a wonderful concert. Jazz couldn’t wait until their next gig, though they didn’t know when that might be. They’d almost gotten onto the lineup for Splatfest this weekend, but something fell through and another band got the spot. Jazz was still bummed out about it, but there was always next Splatfest.

Sandy reached her claws around Jazz’s waist and gave her a big hug and a kiss on the shoulder. “Babe, you’re the best band leader I’ve ever had...” The lobster girl complimented. Jazz blushed bright pink at that. She had heard plenty of horror stories about the last band Sandy was in, though they weren’t much of a band. More like a singer with enough ego for a whole orchestra and the only musicians who would put up with him.

“You’re an amazing drummer, my love. It’s not your fault your old band’s singer only wanted to hear his own voice and didn’t let you play the way you like. His loss.” Jazz replied, stealing herself a kiss on Sandy’s lips. Sandy hid her face for a second as she blushed a dark blue.

“So there might be a new member in the Bebop soon? I hope they’re as cute as you said they are.” Sandy laughed. It was Jazz’s turn to blush again. “Just don’t go kissing them without me.”

“They have a girlfriend so I’m sure there won’t be any kissing unless they both want to kiss me. And I would never kiss them without you!” Jazz chuckled back. The two girls laughed and blushed for a moment more.

“I wouldn’t kiss anyone without you either, love... except Marina. I would keep her all to myself.” Sandy giggled. Jazz pouted at the idea, but she understood. Sandy had loved Marina for ages before she’d met Jazz.

“That’s fair. But hey, maybe Mulberri and Scatta will kiss both of us...” Jazz joked. Sandy laughed again at the silly idea.

“What a life that would be!” Sandy cheered as she kissed Jazz again. The two of them snuggled up together to watch a movie, but they didn’t pay much attention since they were cuddling.

\/\/\/\/\/

Mulberri stood in the center of the local training room. Edd had rented the place out to test Berri’s skills with the Splash Cannon, the weapon Edd had designed themself. The cannon was a modified Rapid Blaster with maxed-out stats. It took 300 points to charge the special since its range, damage, and fire rate were so high. It could fire three or four rounds before needing to refill ink, but a skilled blaster could cover plenty of turf with that.

One-One had created quite an obstacle course for them today. The level design was their strong suit, and they were even in the process of designing an official stage. Maybe this test would be a prototype of that. Berri was ready for anything.

The whistle that began the test finally came, and Berri came out swinging. Some Squid Balloons came at them, and they took all three of the dummies down with a well-placed blast. They climbed up a wall in Cephalo form and looked around. They blasted another dummy before dipping down into their purple ink to refill. They swam down off the wall and ran across an Ink Mine, performing a Squid Jump to evade the explosion.

More dummies popped up in front of them, and Berri splatted them with cannon fire. Their special was ready to activate, so they charged up their Booyah Bomb and threw it into the mob of dummies across the stage, splatting all of them as the whistle blew a second time.

The entire practice area was covered in purple ink, and Mulberri wore a huge grin across their face. Suddenly Jet’s face appeared on a screen. He had his tentacles in tight braids instead of the usual afro. He wore a black tuxedo. Jazz rolled her eyes at his theatrics.

“So, Jazz has recommended you, and One-One has tested you. Since you have passed, the last thing is a little questionnaire. Question One: what is your favorite stage?”

“Well, I love the Piranha Pit and Crableg Capitol, but my absolute fave is Humpback Pump Track. I detest Shellendorf Institute with all of its ceiling snipers, but it can be a fun stage sometimes.” Berri answered honestly. They hated camping chargers as much as anyone else did, and the Institute seemed to be designed for them.

“Interesting. Next question: Have you ever heard of the one called Vivian Valentine?” Jazz chuckled at Jet’s question.

“Now, Jet, that wasn’t on the last test!” She joked. Jet shot her a look through the screen.

“Mind your business, ma'am. Now, Mulberri?” Jet snapped back, turning back to Berri.

“I have had the misfortune of being in the same room with him, thanks to Orange Range. It was not an experience I would plan on reliving.” Berri answered again, trying not to roll their eyes at the thought of Vivi. They were happy Scatta wasn't friends with Range anymore.

“Third question: What handle would you use with the Crew?”

“Mercury Stardust. Anything but ‘Kuwabara the Ma’am’ since I chose that name in what feels like another life.” They sighed but put those thoughts away to focus on the questions.

“Final question: What is your favorite thing about Turf War?” Jet asked. Berri had to think for a moment.

“Honestly, what is there not to love? For three minutes all the worries of life fade away. It’s you and your three teammates against the world, and then a flash of pretty colors and it’s onto the next match. It’s pure adrenaline and it’s my favorite thing to do!” Berri answered the final question. They could see Jet thinking. He seemed to be dragging out the silence for dramatic effect, but they weren’t certain. The skill test was one thing, but Berri was never great at talking so they weren’t sure about this questionnaire.

“Well, Mercury Stardust, pack your grip and join my ship, the Bebop!” Jet finally answered. The rest of the crew cheered for Mercury as they realized they had passed all the tests. They all went to Tidal Tacos to eat after Berri’s tests. “They have the best eats in town, undisputedly!” Jet bragged about his favorite taco truck. Berri was ecstatic to be a member of the Bebop Crew.

\/\/\/\/\/ \/\/\/\/\/ \/\/\/\/\/

So yeah, that's what I have so far, as well as a couple scenes for later parts. Or other parts, since I'm not really sure if this will have much of a direction. I know like two things I want to happen by the end, but who knows?

[ex0rin]

between Grian's "Joel, I did a bad thing" sign

and Joel's:

I'm uh, I would uh, I'd really like for Grian and Joel to tag-team Jimmy back and forth during the "beating minecraft with a shared account" video

[twodiamondhoes]

SLAMS DOOR OPEN hello!!! I hear you're looking for lil ficlet ideas!!

I would love to see your take on jimmy and grians relationship 👀👀👀 I simply wish there was more content of them in the world (shippy or non-shippy!!)

If u would like any additional prompts maybe the aftermath of grian taking jimmy out in wildlife????

No pressure at all if the thought doesnt appeal to you, saluting you so much as a fellow traveller on the writing strugglebus right now. GOOD LUCK!!! <3

Hi Theo!! Welcome in, please have a seat! :D

as for Jimmy & (/) Grian I totally agree, I love their dynamic so much!! Time to be the change we want to see in the world XD

Take my hand, we will get through this rough patch together!! <3333

I haven't actually finished either of their WL POVs (Blasphemous as a self-proclaimed Jimmy Main, I know) so IDK how well I can touch on that one, but I did see that clip of Grian joining their phasmo thing late that's floating around and I lost my mind. Have this modern au?? Phasmo au??? IDK but here you go!

Grian sank deeper into the couch cushions, watching some rerun of an ancient Top Gear episode on the TV in front of him. The sound is so low it might as well be muted in favor of listening to Jimmy off in the kitchen, rummaging around in cupboards as they waited for Joel to arrive.

On the screen, Hammond spun out just in time for Jimmy's voice to peak, some offended crescendo about the story he was telling. Something about someone at work.

For the first time in days, Grian felt his lungs fill, untrapped by the vice of panic or stress. He made some sort of noise in response to Jimmy asking if he could believe all of that. He tried to focus on the words, knowing that Jimmy would be more offended at him not listening than he had been at the lady in his story, but relaxation was stealing over him in waves, pulling the steel and the energy from his limbs the longer he sat there.

Jimmy's voice was much closer when he snorted, placing down a mug on the table in front of Grian. He didn't remember telling him what he wanted in his tea, but the label that spun in front of them was his favorite brew. Warmth steeped through him.

"Budge up," Jimmy said, the words floating down through the syrup of Grian's mind instead of crashing through and jarring him back to consciousness. He shuffled back into a mostly upright position, "are you falling asleep on me?"

“No,”Grian scoffed, leaving Jimmy more than enough time to settle in before he slid sideways again so that he could lean heavily on Jimmy’s shoulder. He hooked a grin up at him. “Now I’m falling asleep on you.”

“You utter-I'm not that boring, am I?” Jimmy groused, reaching for the remote. Grian kicked at the coffee table with his foot, scooting it enough that the remote was out of reach.

“As boring as you always are,” Grian said, if only because he couldn’t seem to untangle the emotions caught in the warm mixture in his chest, at least not in a way where he could pull them apart and explain them to Jimmy. “Maybe I’m just tired,” he said, trying to call up a haughty tone, “maybe it’s got nothing to do with you.”

Jimmy grumbled something more under his breath, but shifted so that Grian was resting comfortably at his side, instead of just smushed against him.

"Go on, then,” Jimmy said, settling back against the armrest so they were both halfway to horizontal. “Joel can wake us up when he gets here.”

Grian hid a smile against Jimmy’s shoulder.

“Glad you see things my way.”

[spiicii]

I N T R O D U C T I O N

ABOUT →

kat • late 20s • she/her main blog: @scorpiochaos ao3 / wattpad join my taglist here

FYI →

♡ this blog is 18+ / minors will be blocked ♡ don't like, don't read / all hate will be blocked ♡ not officially taking requests, though suggestions are always appreciated ♡ this blog does not support the use of ai in creative writing / if you think any of my fic recs might be ai, please let me know ♡ under no circumstances can you steal my work, copy it somewhere else, or say it is yours / the writings i post on here are mine unless stated otherwise ♡ can't see my posts? make sure you have show mature content switched on in your settings

M A S T E R L I S T

last updated 7.6.25

BLOODLINE PROPERTY SERIES →

part one part two part three part four part five: snapshots part six: valentine's day (solo) part seven: valentine's day (jimmy) part eight: valentine's day (sami) part nine: valentine's day (jey) part ten: valentine's day (roman) part eleven: the fallout part twelve: i bet on losing dogs

MAMMA MIA SERIES →

synopsis + cast prologue: i have a dream chapter 1: i wonder (departure) chapter 2: i've been waiting for you chapter 3: honey, honey chapter 4: money, money, money

DRABBLES →

the pull out game

THE USOS →

sibling rivalry raw tag team champions

GUARD DOGS SERIES →

part one part two part three part four part five

JEY USO →

world heavyweight champion rut snowed in save water, shower together possessive nsfw alphabet (jey)

BOY TOY SERIES → feat. seth rollins

chapter one chapter two chapter three

JIMMY USO →

sweet leaf brat taming exhibitionist nsfw alphabet (jimmy)

ROMAN REIGNS →

punishment cock warming

BOY TOY SERIES → feat. jey uso

chapter one chapter two chapter three

no images are mine and belong to their respective owners unless stated otherwise / all graphics made with canva

[curlyfriesgalore]

the tulpar's very own "mom" & "dad."

i sent an anon message to a user (iykyk 🫣) about the reader dating curly while being a co-captain/pilot alongside him. they're seen as the mom and dad of the group because of their positions as leaders, and daisuke claimed they both had major facebook mom energy. definitely not self-projecting.

the two rolled with it, but discovered that they liked it way more than they realized, eventually calling each other mommy and daddy in their own space.

★ this is a sfw & nsfw list of headcanons and what is essentially a one-shot that's broken up into bullets. [4,211 words]

☆ gen tags: fem! reader (she/her) who loves being captain and doesn't know what's popular these days. reader and curly are in their early 30s. no crash au. curly wants to have a family with you. jimmy is a janitor here LMAO.

★ nsfw tags MDNI: mommy (mama) kink. daddy kink. role switching but leans into fdom/msub. curly secretly got a thing for breeding 🫢.

[any feedback on my writing is much appreciated btw! since i'm doing this to improve —iris🌠]

sfw.

★ the dynamic.

you and curly met through working at pony express. both of you were equally capable captains and pilots of your respective ships, bonding over the responsibilities and pressures of your roles.

curly adored your genuine drive for this job. you were so passionate about bringing out the best in people and enjoyed micro-organizing every little detail, making sure everything went smoothly.

meanwhile, he was just good at talking, which you would always praise, but he never found much pride in what he does. however, it paid immensely well, and, at the very least, he got to indulge in his love for astronomy at every waking hour, distracting himself enough from cycling through his depressive thoughts.

so, he's not complaining. plus, he gets to ogle at and hang out with the prettiest and coolest person at pony express.

(sure, he had jimmy, so he wasn't always so alone with his mind, but with you in his life, he might actually have a chance at settling down. though, curly was getting ahead of himself. he'll try to drop his future family fantasies for now... juuust until he's sure he can bag you).

curly finds your way of leading to be so endearing and... intimidating, honestly. while he was calm and compromising, you were firm and authoritarian. you were never swayed by incompetence and planted a strong ground when navigating discourse between crewmates, but, at the same time, you were nurturing. you have an air of deep kindness and wise guidance that sends him reeling. he'd openly tell you how much he admired that, but would never admit that he daydreams of how hot you looked when you ordered your crew around. he's got to stay professional, after all!

at some point, the two of you were paired for a 3-month long-haul flight. you, the captain, and he, the co-captain. one thing lead to another and without the company's knowledge, you two fell for each other.

how could you not? you two had all the elements of a power couple and understood each other better than anyone else. besides, he is one hunk of a man. of course you'd want to snag him for yourself, who wouldn't?

funnily enough, you guys asked to see each other in the cockpit with the same intention of declaring feelings.

and, of course, since you two were grown adults stuck on a spacecraft far too long for your libidos to handle, it only took two confessions interrupting each other, two pairs of hands holding, and two soft kisses to lead to the two of you passionately making out, with you straddling his lap as he wrapped his arms around your back.

it's been years since then, and the tulpar was just one of many long-haul trips where the two of you got to work together.

however, you guys have kept your relationship hidden for the sake of professionalism. even jimmy was dumbfounded to accidentally find out nearly a year into dating.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"dude, why the fuck do you have captain l/n in your wallet...?" jimmy squinted at the photo. his eyes scrolled down the print, coming to a halt and widening at what he saw, "wait, shut up, is that you two kissing?"

his eyebrows contorted into a tense knit. his mouth gaped as he stared at curly, who stood and scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "since when?!"

as curly explained himself, jimmy half-heartedly laughed as he shook his head, bemusement painting his face. whether or not he was ever happy to learn about this, curly will never know.

then, realization hit. jimmy frowned as he pinched the bridge of his nose, "oh, god, please don't tell me those stains i've been cleaning were from you guys?"

"huh?! no, no! jimmy, i swear, that wasn't us, i promise!" curly panicked, his head shaking profusely.

turns out, it was, lmfao. jimmy gave him an earful, and curly kept apologizing, embarrassed that his best friend knows a little too much about what he's been doing around the ship.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

this man adored you, more than anything. the security you had in him—in yourself, most of all, was intoxicatingly comforting.

the two of you swore to stick together for as long as it takes, and have already planned out your wedding, buying a house together, changing careers (curly wants to be a stay-at-home dad, maybe freelance in something if he's got time), owning pets, raising kids (he is 100% a girl dad!!! i can see him wanting at least 2, but if you still have room for one more, he'll gladly take responsibility *wink* *wink*), etc.

curly believed that you both balanced well as parents. you would teach the kids to be brave and confident in themselves, whereas, he would help them learn to handle confrontation calmly and be friendly to all.

(he's not saying that you weren't friendly, just that, between the two of you, he specialized more in the charm department. he wasn't wrong, though! back before you guys dated, he cranked his charisma to a max, and look where that's got him now 🤭).

all of this meant everything to curly. he had quite a rough start to life, not financially but familially (how you want to interpret that is up to you). it's why he's become such a people-pleaser and tends to be a doormat, growing used to internalizing his feelings because he believed others were more deserving of pity (a belief that's been reinforced by jimmy throughout their friendship).

not to mention, how much he worried about being with someone who had to stay on earth. he felt guilty for this hypothetical person, how they'd be akin to a military spouse, waiting for god knows how long, just for curly to come back and stay for less than 6 months at a time. it sickened him to think of how that would affect his future children.

so, for him to be in a relationship with someone in the same occupation and caliber as him eased a lot of that fear. and, this is the same person who is known for her emotionally maturity, who knows how to express her thoughts and feelings, and who loves curly for all that makes him him, giving him more reasons than he already had to get down on that knee.

good GOD does he wish he could go ahead and do that already, but proposing on an aged piece of metal in outer space wasn't the most... romantic setting, as much as you jokingly insisted it was.

but, no worries, curly's got it all planned out. once you all land back on earth, curly is making sure you get your dream proposal, for that man is stopping at nothing to wed you and love you for the rest of his life!

★ the beginning to a never-ending petname.

one night, anya pulled out a pop-culture board game, one that the others understood the rules and references of fairly quickly. but, you and curly? oh, you guys needed time.

you two weren't dumb by any means, you guys were just... a little behind on the trends—trends that have been out for forever 💀.

everyone poked fun at how much you would both pause and say, "huh...?" or "w-what's that from, again?" how your brows would knit and furrow, your faces looking blank as ever. the two of you would take a slow glance at each other, then at the others, and shake your head in confusion.

admittedly, swansea was in the same boat as you two, but even he knew a couple of things better than you lot. "the benefits of raising two nerds for kids," he'd say. he liked laughing at you guys, made him feel young.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"ohh, isn't that the game you play on your gameboy, daisuke? the... you know, uh, the cute pika ball thing?" daisuke stared at curly, dumbfounded by what he was hearing.

"CAPTAIN. HOW DO YOU NOT KNOW THE NAME OF ONE OF—IF NOT—THE HIGHEST FORMS OF ART?!" he turned to you, desperation fueling his eyes. "l/n, please tell me you've at least heard of pokémon before..." daisuke exaggeratedly clasped his hands together.

you sat there, pursing your lips with shifty eyes and pretended to whistle as you looked away.

"anya. swansea. i think i'm gonna faint..." he dramatically dropped himself onto the two. swansea shook his head, uncrossing his arms and pulling daisuke off his and anya's laps, "kid, you are way too dramatic for your own good."

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

daisuke exasperatedly commented on how you and curly were so much like his parents, clueless and far too involved in work to know his interests.

then, he thinks for a second, and finally decides that you guys were technically the parents of the ship.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"right? think about it. if the tulpar were a house and we were family, l/n and curly would be mom and dad 'cause they're responsible for us and the ship. swansea's the grandpa—oh, come on, swan, don't look at me like that!"

"i mean, you do have grandkids, swansea..."

"exactly. THANK YOU, anya. now, you get to be the cool older sister, i'm the even cooler teenage son, polle can be like... our little pet or something, and jimmy is the uncle!"

"wh-why am i the uncle?"

"'cause you know... you're... you."

"what is THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!"

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

as an "argument" ensued between the others, you and curly were flushing. nobody but jimmy knew of your relationship, but the fact that daisuke figuratively paired you guys as a married couple turned you into a bashful, blushing mess.

nobody noticed, really. jimmy was too busy grumbling about being seen as the weird uncle, and everyone started getting really annoyed by him. so, in classic curly and y/n fashion, you two tried to resolve the situation (curly reassured jimmy that uncles can be cool! but jimmy's frown just deepened).

the game ended, and the two of you walked to your sleeping quarters, reflecting on how it went. not bringing up the mom/dad thing just yet, but it lurked in the back of your minds.

deciding to stay in his room, you and curly changed into your pjs. you snuggled up under the covers, but he momentarily checked on some paperwork. you groaned, rolled your eyes, and patted the pillows.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"babyyy, just get into bed now." you pouted.

curly chuckled, "okay, okay... just give me ooone more sec, mama, i'll be right there—"

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

your eyes widened, a fuzzy warmth bubbled within you. curly quickly got embarrassed and apologized, but when you softly chuckled and reassured him that you didn't mind, he relaxed.

hearing how smoothly 'mama' rolled out his tongue unlocked something deep in you.

the truth was, curly had been calling you 'mom', 'mama', and 'mommy' in his fantasies for quite some time now. he told you, now with him in bed, how it helped him immerse himself in imagining his future with you. even in scenarios where you didn't have kids yet, it still felt so soothing to call you by those titles.

he rested his head in the crook of your neck as you circled his back with your palm, occassionally playing with the ends of his hair. as he yapped about it, trying to make it seem less of a big deal for him, you lifted his chin to face you. he instantly softened, his words faltering as you looked down on him.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"you can call me, mommy, more often if you'd like to, baby... i really don't mind." you reassured in a low voice.

curly was uncertain, but his ocean doe eyes remain glued to your deep gaze. he swallowed, "are you sure? you don't have to put up with it if you don't really like it, honey, it's okay—"

you softly hushed him, thumbing the golden hairs scattered on his cheek. "no, i mean it." you paused, hoping the following words sounded smooth, "...mommy thinks it's genuinely cute when you call me that."

curly squirmed. a whimper resided in his throat, but, as the rumbling of your voice trailed down his spine, he let a quiet, high-pitch moan escape his lips.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

for a man who presents himself as someone very self-assured, he does have a hard time accepting that you were really okay with it.

however, when his hesitancy eases into normalcy, he's calling you 'mommy' and 'mama' in every other sentence. if not, all his sentences.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"hey, mommy, where'd you put my mug?"

"mama, you need to stop sleeping so late. it's bad for your health." (he's a hypocrite and he knows it).

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

curly's voice was naturally deep, saccharine sweet, and a bit raspy at times. but, when he called you by your motherly petnames, he'd go an octave softer, especially as the night came to a close and sleepiness was taking a toll on him. he'd sound a little dumb and incoherent, but the bass in him remained strong.

he still calls you by the classic petnames, mainly 'darling' and 'honey' since those are his other personal faves. though, minutes prior to work, he'd try to use your actual name or settle with 'babe,' so he doesn't accidentally call you 'mommy' in public. it was deeply personal for him, and if someone like jimmy caught wind of that, it would greatly upset curly, even though he would very likely tell you it was fine (just so you wouldn't chew jimmy alive).

so, when YOU began calling him, 'daddy,' it sent his mind into a haywire. (how it happened is in the nsfw section!)

he loved the safety of calling you his mommy, how it relieved the weight of his captain duties and the thoughts burdened in his mind. but, with his newfound title, he'd flip between feeling secure in your protection to wanting to do nothing but protect you. not from any real danger, perse, but, moreso, caring for each other's well-being when either of you wanted to indulge in a little less control.

it made sense that even you, the commanding leader who enjoyed delegating and dominating others (other than him), needed a break from your responsibilities and wanted curly to take the wheel for a change.

you both took turns pampering one another. he would do everything you wanted, and made sure to wrap you in his big, strong arms by the end of the day.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"rest your pretty head for me, okay, mommy? daddy's got you..."

he brought the back of your hand to his lips and kissed it deeply, thumbing your knuckles with his large, calloused fingers. with his other arm, curly pressed your waist closer to his, letting you relish in his warmth.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

when it was his turn, a long snuggle session, loads of praise, and kisses in every place was all he needed (don't forget to call him your good little boy! he needs his mommy's praise after a rough day at work).

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"honeyyy, i've called you 'good boy' like 24 times in a rowww...!" you whined. of course you didn't mind peppering kisses on his face with the same adoring name over and over again, but now, he was just getting greedy.

curly giggled, nuzzling his nose against your cheek as he softened his sea blue eyes, "just ooone more, pleaaase, mama? please...?"

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

he loved how reliable the term 'daddy' felt. it gave him a little ego boost. he's always had a pretty good relationship with his masculinity, but this just added onto that like a good affirmation.

the way his mind would get so lost in replaying how you two back-and-forthed with your respective petnames. it felt like he was role-playing his future family with you in real time.

★ extras.

it became an ongoing joke with the crew, especially with daisuke. whenever you'd tell him to get back to work, he'd drawl out a long "okayyy, mommmm," but quickly apologized after swansea smacked the back of his head.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"tch, don't talk to your captain like that."

"ach! i'm sorry, I'M SORRYYY—i was kidding!!!"

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

anya found it silly, never really saying anything like daisuke, but since you two became good friends (both because you guys genuinely clicked and were the only women on board), she had a knack for teasing you about it. she knew something more was going on between you and curly. so, maybe, just maybe, during a psych eval, you eventually spilled to her about your relationship.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"hehe, called it."

"seriously?! how?"

"y/n... it's so obvious. i've seen you guys sneak into each other's rooms."

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

swansea didn't care. he was an actual dad, after all, and practically everyone he knew eventually became a parent one way or another. though, if you felt comfortable enough with swansea and told him about your relationship, he surprisingly wouldn't mind giving you two a piece of advice. how to keep a long-term marriage? dude's been with his wife for over 40 years and counting. raising children? please, he's done it twice. unclogging the toilet after your kids threw your deodorant down the drain? don't ask, just listen. you're much better off not knowing how.

whatever it is, ask away, but don't expect anything easy on the ears. swansea gives advice in poetic prose that borderline sounds like he's taking a jab at you.

truthfully, jimmy is somewhere in between being deeply irritated by the both of you and not giving two shits. he hates how you're sort of a curly clone, in the sense that you're also a high-performing person that everyone adores to work with. but, what's worse, is that you're so much harder to get mad at and are 100% capable of calling out his ass.

he's had to catch himself from saying anything too mean to curly multiple times. he knows he's easily replaceable, he's the janitor for god's sake, and if he said too much in front of you, he knows you'd tell pony express to fire him on the spot.

but, if we're assuming that jimmy is mentally better in the head, he'd eventually get over it and shrug off your guys' relationship, not wanting to grow envious as he does by default.

nsfw.

★ mommy.

it didn't surprise you that curly loved calling you 'mommy' in bed too. he'd always say, "mommy, you're so beautiful", "m-mommy, it's too tight...!" and when he gets overwhelmed, he'd become so dazed as his dick ached, crying because his mama felt so good.

he was like pavlov's dog, only the bell was your petname and you were the meal. if either of you were ever so slightly horny and everyone was stowed away in their quarters, hearing 'mommy' reverberate out of your mouth had him squeezing his thighs.

however, he's gotten used to mostly keeping it in his pants. not letting himself get needy when it's used casually. otherwise, he'd cease to function.

he loves it when you ride him, he gets all whimpery and brain-dead, begging his mama to let him cum out of his "little" boy dick.

all he wanted was his mommy to use him, make him so overstimulated until all that was left in his empty head was you.

sometimes, he loved the feeling of reaching his orgasm more than the orgasm itself. it's that momentary numbness he gets that he enjoys chasing, how every single thought completely disappeared, leaving him into nothing but a panting mess — all of him leaking out of his cock.

★ daddy.

one night, you were laying on curly, sitting upright. he held you in his arms as you spread your legs far and wide, toes digging into the mattress, gripping onto curly's biceps for support.

and, just like curly when he called you 'mama' for the first time, you accidentally slipped out a "daddy—!" as he fingered you, knuckles-deep.

you suddenly went quiet, quickly covering a hand over your mouth.

curly's eyes widened, his fingers stilled inside of you as his heart raced in his chest... he didn't expect it, but his shock washed into dominance.

he pulled out his fingers, his tone more stern and husk as he whispered, "say that again."

you whimpered, the loss of fullness making your thighs shudder. without a single thought, you called him daddy again, and again, and again... until he flipped you onto your stomach and was back to toying with you, digging into your insides at much greater speeds than before.

when you began regularly using it, he'd grow so romantic and reserved, wanting to take his time to just worship you—peppering deep kisses from head to toe—because in his eyes, you were the most precious person in existence.

he's never rough unless you tell him to be or he knows that it'll make you cum even better, but this man just loves to be slow and sensual. it's his go-to speed.

his favorite thing to do is coo at you, asking if you like how daddy is loving you or if daddy's doing a good job at touching your little hole. even when he's assuming a dominant role, he wants your reassurance.

curly is never mean. he only likes to light-heartedly tease you whenever you'd whine for him to keep going. other than that, he was heavy on his praises, loved complimenting you till you were blushing all over.

★ taking turns.

now, you guys would call each other 'mommy' and 'daddy' regardless of the dynamic, but if either of you felt more subby, you'd settle for the classic, 'good girl,' and him, 'good boy' (or any other submissive petname you prefer).

if you're domming and he's subbing, he wants you to use up all of his cum for your pleasure. he hopes you'll let him spill all that's left in him for hours on end.

however, most of the time, he's not really built for that, only able to handle a little over a round. so, to make up for it, he'll let you get him all pent up and force him to hold it in, using his desperation as energy to serve you.

the longer you left him like that, the faster his licks and finger-fucks became.

if you're cruel, making him rut into you would send him shaking. he'd struggle so hard, needing to take breaks as he alternated between slow and steady thrusts to rough humps according to what you ordered... oh, tears were definitely rolling down his cheeks.

(don't worry, he's not hurt. it's just a lot for him to physically handle. but, for you, he'd withstand anything!)

on the off-chance that he has the energy to go longer, he wants you to use him in all positions with only a minute to breathe after each cum. he wants to lose it, make him sweaty and breathless, please. turn him into a pathetic display only for your eyes to see.

if he's domming and you're subbing, he finds it fun to deny your orgasm, loving how surprised you get whenever he'd lift your vibrator off your clit or leave his dick in you, barely moving an inch. but even then, he quickly caves in and lets you have your way because nothing turns him on more than you cumming and crying for your 'daddy.'

he doesn't do that to hurt you, after all, he hates the mere possibility of even remotely making you uncomfortable. but, when he asks whether or not mommy misses his fingers, and you'd mewl in agreement, he can't help himself from edging you.

★ curly thinking of you. (extras).

he jerks off to the idea of breeding you.

but, even though it gets his dick all wet, he won't re-enact it just yet. he doesn't want to accidentally impregnate you when neither of you were ready—especially since you're the one carrying.

even if you were incredibly horny and adamant on it, he'd keep his rationale.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"mommy... i'm not cumming inside you." he chuckled, shaking his head with his tone, firm. you whined, "but, why not?" a needy frown formed on your lips, "i just want to feel good, daddy. you said i could...!"

you grinded down on his boxers, wetness seeped through the fabric of your panties. curly stifled a groan as he felt your clothed folds slide against his tip, drenched in his pre-cum.

"i know, mommy, i know... daddy'll take care of you soon, i promise... but i'm not risking anything, okay?" he pressed a kiss on your forehead, thumbing circles on your stomach with his hands gripping your waist. "it's for your own safety, mama."

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

but, since this was all in his head, he could indulge in it as much as he wanted.

curly loved remembering the way your cum dripped out of your hole, how softly your pussy parted. it made him wish it was his, wanting to fill you up and let his mess soak up inside you.

he wished he could finger it back into you—or, even better, tongue-fuck it in. the thought of having you sit on his face with him lapping his cum into your walls, as you rubbed your clit against the end of his nose got him all hot and bothered.

with his hand pumping himself from base to tip, he'd think of you laying down on your back, wrapping your legs around curly's head as you pushed his mouth further into you. he'd moan into your pretty parts, purposefully deepening it so his voice would vibrate all over your pussy.

[holy shit, i wrote so much. thank you for reading all the way ♡ let me know if you guys want more captain! reader and/or mommy/daddy kink! curly —iris🌠]

[uceyliyahh]

GUARDED

summary: Genesis has been protecting her heart ever since she filed for divorce and didn’t want to be in another relationship until he came around and changed her mind.

this fanfic is 18+ NO MINORS ALLOWED

warnings contain: emotional abuse, divorce, depression, mention of guns, masturbaiton, unprotected sex, breeding,

word count: 8.3k

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

smut warning: it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I am improving at the moment

Jimmy Uso x Genesis

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

again mdni you have been warned.

thanks to my friend @charmed-dreamssss for helping me with the title 🫶🏽

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️ @pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign @prettyfilmz @sharmelasworld @spiicii @formulafortyfour @theusotwinzcom @mingisfavgf

@bebesobrielo @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @paigereeder @magnificentbouquetmusic @mjonthetrack

@charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug @bloodlinesbabe93 @justazzi @xbriexx @celesteheartsjey @4milly @luuvprincess @yyaktayak @yana3sworld @shanthefemalerapper @bloodlineslut @bookuce @sheaabuttaababyy @li-da-savage @luvrsluxe

𝞽𝞴𝙞𝞬𝞽𝞮𝞮𝞰

𝜣𝒎𝜼𝒊𝒔𝝇𝒊𝜺𝜼𝝉

gigispovv has posted on their story!

jonathanfatu replied to your story: it’s your world baby I’m just living in it with you, my ride or die 🩷

americannightmarecody replied to your story: JIMMY YOU BETTER TAKE CARE OF GIGI

biancabelairwwe replied to your story: omggg this man be dicking you down and buys you flowers? Ouuu girl

jadecargill replied to your story: GET MARRIED ALREADY PLEASE

jackieredmond replied to your story: so when is the wedding? 💒

uceyjucey replied to your story: he be taking you everywhere but complain when I ask him to take me to the gas station to get something to roll up some weed 🙄🙄

carmelohayes replied to your story: tell him it’s on sight when I see him and his bitch ass twin brother

trinity_fatu replied to your story: I fucking hate the both of you

Atlanta, Georgia - 5:30PM

Genesis and Jimmy took a weekend trip to her hometown, eager for him to finally meet her parents. Despite their hectic schedules, they carved out precious time to reconnect, especially since it had been quite a while since she last saw them.

As Jimmy navigated the road from the driver's seat, his free hand tenderly brushed against Genesis's thigh, a gentle gesture amidst the tension of their journey to her parents' home. She couldn't shake the anxiety that bubbled within her, worried that her family might not accept him.

As they arrived for the barbecue that evening, she felt a wave of hope wash over her. Jimmy parked the car and switched off the engine, then stepped out first, striding towards Genesis' door to open it for her.

As she exited the car, she expressed her gratitude to him while he closed the door. Their fingers intertwined, they could hear the pulsating music emanating from within the house. Together, they approached her parents' door and knocked firmly, both of them standing there eagerly awaiting a response.

As they waited, Genesis applied her lip gloss, attempting to soothe her anxiousness, when she suddenly felt Jimmy's hand wrap around her waist, drawing her nearer to him.

“You nervous mamas relax.” Jimmy whispered.

“I’m more worried for you than myself, be aware that my older brother will ask you questions including my father.” Genesis replied.

“Don’t worry baby, I know they’ll love me.” At that moment, the door swung open to reveal her older brother Jacari, grinning widely with a red cup in hand, as he looked down at his little sister.

“Gigi! Momma Gigi’s home!” Jacari hollered as he pulled his little sister in for a hug.

At that moment, he noticed Jimmy standing there, patiently waiting while Jacari smiled and gently dabbed him during their embrace, prompting Genesis to observe the two of them.

“You must be Jonathan right? Gigi doesn’t shut up about you dawg.” He said teasing his little sister.

“Oh? She doesn’t don’t she?” Genesis let out a weary sigh, realizing that tonight would stretch on endlessly, especially with these two jokers around. As she stepped into the house, she found everyone gathered in the kitchen, some sipping drinks while others were lounging in the front room, puffing on a blunt.

In that moment, she spotted her mother and aunt rushing towards her, enveloping her in a warm embrace before stepping back to marvel at how much their little girl had grown.

“My dearest! Welcome home, sorry for the chaos in here.” Mrs Porter said.

She chuckled at her mother, “it’s all good mama, there’s someone I wanted you to meet if that’s okay.” 

“Of course dear.” At that moment, she spotted a towering figure, 6'3" tall, standing beside Genesis, a smile gracing his face as he intertwined his fingers with hers. “Mama this is my boyfriend Jonathan and Jonathan this is my mother you can call her Mrs Porter.” 

Jimmy took his hand out, “nice to finally meet you Mrs Porter.” Her mother was taken aback to find her daughter with a man who was even more attractive than Quincy—she greeted him with a smile and a firm handshake.

“Gigi dear you didn’t tell me that he was handsome, nice to meet you son in law.” Genesis's eyes widened in surprise as her mother spoke, causing her cheeks to flush with color.

Then her auntie chimed in, “he’s better looking than Quincy ass I tell you that.” Jimmy laughed as he watched Genesis blush fiercely while she accepted the compliment.

Genesis' mother had whisked Jimmy away, eager to learn more about him and his intentions toward her daughter, leaving Genesis standing there like a forlorn puppy until her brother approached from behind.

“You want a drink sis?” Jacari asked.

She looked up at him, “yeah sure.” With a cheerful wave to familiar faces from high school and the neighborhood, she trailed behind her brother into the kitchen.

She rested her arms on the kitchen counter, watching her brother as he prepared a Jack Daniel’s cocktail. With a smile, she took the drink from his hand and savored a sip.

“So where did you find him Gigi?” 

“We work together and be on the road together 24/7 Cari but my best friend Cody introduced me to him and his twin brother when I first started.” She took another sip of her drink.

Jacari nodded his head, “he the one? because I remember when you said that about Quincy and look what happened so are you certain that he’s the one?” Genesis felt a deep certainty that Jimmy was her soulmate. He had openly expressed his desire to marry her and start a family, a promise that many men make insincerely, yet there was something genuine in Jimmy's declarations.

“Yes, I’m certain that he’s the one. He takes good care of me Cari and plus he’s fucking crazy he would kill his cousin and Quincy over me.” 

Jacari nearly sputtered on his drink, coughing loudly as Genesis softly patted his back. He reassured her, saying he was okay. "Is he really trying to hit on you?" Genesis was suddenly flooded with memories of Zilla's assault, a haunting experience she wished to forget. She didn't want to burden her older brother or mother with her fears until the trial began.

So she had to lie.

“Yeah, and he didn’t like that. Honestly a bunch of guys at my job is tryna holla at me and I just ignore them they’re so desperate to get some coochie brother let me tell you.” Genesis said.

Jacari chuckled at her while shaking his head, “damn I didn’t know my little sis got it like that, you must think you grown now huh?” She playfully elbowed her older brother, just like they used to do in their childhood whenever he would tease her about something. “Boy shut up I never said that.”

She longed for the moments spent with her family, and being surrounded by them filled her with happiness. Watching Jimmy toss the football to her little cousins made her heart soar with delight.

“You seen pops?” She asked.

“Yeah, he outside cooking on the grill. He was looking for you.” He responded. With that, she stepped out into the backyard, where a handful of people mingled, accompanied by the nostalgic sounds of 90s music. Her gaze swept across the scene, landing on her stepfather who was grilling and savoring the tunes that filled the air.

With a radiant smile, she approached him, playfully tapping his shoulder, prompting him to turn and discover his little girl beaming at him.

“Gigi! My babygirl! I didn’t know you were here!” Mr Porter Exclaimed.

“Cari said you were looking for me but here I am.” Genesis replied as She and her stepfather hugged each other tightly.

“I missed you so much Gigi, we were hoping to see you since I know your schedule has been hectic.” Genesis and her stepfather stepped back, allowing him to fully appreciate the sight of his stepdaughter, now transformed into a confident and self-sufficient woman. “Yeah, we were able to enjoy the weekend off.”

Her stepfather arched an eyebrow at her, questioning, 'We? Who exactly is this 'we,' Gigi?' She glanced over at Jimmy, who was busy tossing the football with her younger cousins.

“Is that the man you’ve been raving about to your mother?”

She nodded her head, “yes, that’s my boyfriend right there he’s a good man papa. he takes care of me.”

Her father was turning the burgers and hotdogs on the grill before he began to speak.

“Well I need to meet this young man that’s been taking care of my precious stepdaughter.” She smiled as she went towards Jimmy’s direction.

As Jimmy spotted Genesis approaching, he tossed the football back to her cousin, all the while keeping his focus on her.

“Hey baby, what’s up?” Jimmy asked.

“My pops wants to meet you—I hope you’re ready and I’m sorry about my mother, she's so clingy.” Genesis said.

“It’s all good mama I know where you get it from now and she’s a sweet lady.” Genesis beamed at him as she led him toward her stepfather, who was busy grilling the food.

Her stepfather gazed at the tall man beside his stepdaughter, clearly impressed by her choice. "Well, Gigi, you certainly didn’t mention he was such a dashing young man. It's a pleasure to meet you, son; I'm her stepfather."

They shook hands firmly before hugging each other.

“Nice to meet you too Mr Porter.” As she made her way back into the house to fetch another drink from the kitchen, she allowed the two of them to converse. Suddenly, she heard a whistling sound coming from behind her.

As she pivoted, her gaze locked with Darrius, her high school crush—a football star and notorious heartbreaker. She let out a heavy sigh before shutting the fridge door.

As she cracked open a can of twisted tea, she took a refreshing sip before leaning back against the kitchen counter. She noticed him approaching with open arms, attempting to embrace her, but she playfully pushed him away, proudly displaying the double band ring that Jimmy had gifted her.

“Oh? So since you got a new nigga now you wanna act brand new Gigi?” Darrius said.

“Boy please if you don’t get the fuck out my face for real Darrius.” Genesis replied.

He was with his homeboys scoffing at her trying to be all cool and shit in front of them.

“Look she tryna act brand new and shit because got a new nigga yall like she didn’t want this back in high school.” 

Genesis rolled her eyes at him, “nigga you was all over me tryna holla at me knowing your repretation  so don’t fucking play with me D.” She continued on. “And why is yo’ ass bringing up old shit anyways? Just a weirdo.”

Darrius shrugged his shoulders, “I mean shit, a nigga tryna holla at you shawty. You glowing baby girl looking all good and shit.” Now she felt very uncomfortable with this conversation because she had the same issues with Carmelo at work not until Jimmy knocked his head off at his hotel room.

“Now yo’ ass just being desperate it’s always the desperate niggas tryna holla at a taken girl.” She retorted while folding her arm over her chest while holding up her drink. “It’s not like yo’ nigga is around to stop me so.”

Genesis wore a mischievous grin, shaking her head as she realized Darrius would soon regret his words, fully aware of how unpredictable and reckless Jimmy could be, especially since her brother despised Darrius just as much.

“I would be careful with my words dear, I could call him in an instant and he’ll show up so you better keep it pushing if I were you, my nigga is crazyyy.” She bragged.

He chuckled at her, “maneee ain’t nobody scared of that bitch ass nigga. I’ll put a bullet to his head. Lemme just get yo’ number Gigi.” What was with these men tryna get at her for? Knowing she’s taken.

“Yeah, no I’m gonna have to decline that offer. My man wouldn’t like that.” Genesis savored another sip of her twisted tea, her eyes fixed on Darrius. She had no intention of indulging him or his foolish antics, believing he could charm his way into acquiring her number.

She locked eyes with Jimmy and Jacari, who were chatting outside, and gestured for them to come inside. Meanwhile, Darrius took out his phone, trying to hand it to Genesis, but she once more turned him down. “C’mon baby girl lemme have yo’ number so we can talk you know.”

At that moment, a deep voice echoed, sending chills racing down his spine. Turning to his left, he spotted Jimmy and Jacari, their faces set in a serious expression.

Darrius was unaware that the towering 6'3" Samoan man was her boyfriend, as he approached her from behind, encircling her waist and planting a kiss on her neck.

“You good mamas? Do I need to embarrass someone this evening or what?” Jimmy asked, staring down at Darrius.

She shook her head, “no, I’m good baby. Just wanted to remind a certain person that I’m taken so they can get it through their thick skulls.” She smirked at Darrius who was furious.

“This yo’ nigga Gigi? I mean damn one good of an upgrade from your last one but I know this ain’t finna last just like that marriage of yours.” Darrius clapped back.

In that moment, the atmosphere shifted to a hushed stillness, as if a mouse had entered the room, with everyone locked in a silent showdown of glances. Yet, Genesis remained unfazed, confident in her recent transformation and the presence of a good man by her side.

She chuckled at him while giving her can to Jimmy—she had time this evening.

Jimmy was ready to pounce on him but Genesis held him back, “and nigga what that gotta do with you? Don’t you got an std from one of the girls you been fucking? How about you start getting that fixed instead of worrying about what I got desperate bitch.”  

She noticed his expression shift to something unfamiliar as the gossip swirled around them.

“You bitch.” At that moment, Darrius attempted to confront Genesis, but Jacari and Jimmy swiftly drew their glocks in unison, aiming them at him and his crew.

Jimmy raised an eyebrow at Darrius giving him a stern expression on his face, “you might wanna back up playa. this mine right here and ion play about her so you better watch the fuck out.” Jimmy warned him.

“Man, fuck yo—“ With a swift motion, Jimmy cocked his gun, his thumb aimed directly at Darrius's head, as he yanked him up by the hem of his hoodie, locking eyes with him in a piercing gaze that seemed to penetrate his very soul.

“You wanna die play boy? Or you wanna live? your choice.” Everyone was taken aback by Jimmy's extreme protectiveness over Genesis; even her brother couldn't believe it.

Darrius raised his hands in a protective gesture as Jimmy pulled the gun away from his forehead, tucking it back into his jeans before releasing him. He adjusted his hoodie and made his way back towards Genesis, keeping her safely by his side.

“You might wanna get out of here Darrius before he actually fucking kills you.” Jacari said, keeping his gun pointed at them.

Darrius licked his lips in anticipation, quickly gathering his belongings as he and his friends exited the house—slamming the front door behind them while Jacari tucked his gun back into his shorts and secured the lock.

He glanced over his shoulder at his sister and Jimmy, who had his arm wrapped around her waist as he approached them, playfully teasing Jimmy.

“Thank you for protecting my little sister, that fool been tryna get at her.” He said.

“You know I got Gigi dawg, imma protect her for sure.” Jimmy responded after noticing Genesis yawning and rubbing her eyes.

“You tired baby?” She glanced up at him while nodding her head.

“A’ight then dawg imma take this little lady upstairs so she could sleep and we’ll finish talking.” With that, Jimmy lifted Genesis in her bridal style and ascended the stairs, making his way to one of the guest rooms in her mother's house.

He softly nudged the door open and stepped inside, carefully placing Genesis on the bed. As he removed her jacket and shoes, he set them aside in the room, then wrapped her in blankets to keep her warm against the evening chill.

He lowers himself to her height, gently pressing his lips against hers, captivated by her sleepy smile as she tenderly strokes his cheek.

“Don’t be gone for too long, I want you up here with me.” Genesis said in a soft tone.

He smiled at her clinginess before placing a kiss on the palm of her hand.

“I’ll be back mamas, just get some sleep okay?” Jimmy responded as he got up from kneeling.

Genesis let out a yawn, stretching her limbs as she settled into the bed, while Jimmy made his way out the door, rejoining the others downstairs.

—

As Jimmy relaxed in the backyard chair, savoring his beer, he noticed Jacari approaching with a chilled brew in hand. With a friendly gesture, Jacari offered it to him. Jimmy, not one to refuse a cold drink, accepted it and set it beside him, taking another sip from his own beer.

Jacari retrieved a blunt he had meticulously rolled, igniting it with his lighter. He took a few deep puffs before handing it over to Jimmy. As soon as Jimmy grasped it, he inhaled a few times, exhaling clouds of smoke into the air as the effects began to wash over him, before returning it to Jacari.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in stunning hues, the atmosphere buzzed with laughter and music. People were either savoring their meals or twirling joyfully on the dance floor outside. In that moment, Jimmy felt a warm sense of belonging with his family, a feeling he never anticipated experiencing with Genesis's family as well.

Jacari begins to say something, “you cool as fuck Jonathan no bullshit.” He said.

“I appreciate it dawg, this was nice.” Jimmy replied with a smile on his face.

The air was heavy as the wind rustled through the trees, and Jimmy inhaled deeply from the blunt, exhaling the smoke through his nose this time.

“You love my sister? I mean I’ve been protecting her ever since we were little, especially from his bitch ass.” He mentioned Quincy.

Jimmy to another sip of his beer before speaking, “Yeah, I love Gigi with all of my heart dawg. Your sister is like everything I needed.” He continued. “And I had to shoot his stupid ass put him in the hospital.”

Jacari's eyes widened in shock at Jimmy's words, nearly causing him to sputter his drink again. "Wait, are you serious about my little sister? I can't say I blame you, though; that guy has been acting strange ever since they tied the knot, and things only got weirder after she divorced him."

He gave a firm nod, saying, "Absolutely, that's my ride or die, Uce. I won't let anything happen to her." Jacari recognized Jimmy's protective instincts, having grown up as Genesis's guardian himself, often confronting boys who dared to bother her or express unwanted interest. It was clear to him why Jimmy felt so strongly about her.

“I understand fasho, how long y'all staying in Atlanta? I know yalls schedules are hectic.”

“Probably for the weekend since we gotta head to another city Monday.”

“y'all staying in a hotel down here? cuz our mama would let y'all stay.”

Jimmy informed Jacari about their weekend hotel plans, but mentioned that it would be great if her mother allowed them to stay here instead, especially since their luggage was in the rental car.

“I’m pretty sure our mama would let yall stay, especially since yall been traveling so much lately.” He said. “But lemme’ ask you this uce cuz I know my pops is gonna ask the same thing.”

“You wanna marry her?” He certainly wished to marry Genesis, but he preferred to wait for the right moment, taking his time to nurture their relationship before making any hasty decisions.

Jimmy exhaled a cloud of smoke from the blunt, gently tapping the ashes into the ashtray.

“Of course Uce, I wanna put a ring on her finger. She’s something special for real.” 

“Well then you have my blessing as her big brother when the time comes.” He and Jacari shared hearty laughter, relishing each other's presence as they passed a blunt back and forth, the music pulsating in the background while everyone around them rose to their feet, dancing joyfully together.

At that moment, Jimmy spotted Genesis emerging from the building, her eyes softly rubbing as she scanned the surroundings in search of him—he handed the blunt back to Jacari and set his drink on the table, making his way towards her.

With her arms crossed tightly over her chest, Genesis pondered Jimmy's whereabouts until her gaze fell upon her charming boyfriend striding toward her, prompting a radiant smile to blossom on her face as she relaxed her stance.

He loomed above her, his height casting a shadow over her petite frame as she looked up with wide, innocent eyes, her arms encircling his neck while his strong embrace enveloped her waist, mingling their scents in a tender moment.

“Hii Bo.” Genesis said.

“Hey baby, did you sleep well?” Jimmy asked as he leaned into a kiss.

“Yeah, I did and I missed you so much.” He laughed softly at her adorableness, planting gentle kisses on her lips repeatedly. “Yeah? Daddy missed you too princess.”

His hands glided into her shorts, cradling her curves before he pressed a passionate kiss on her neck, igniting a shiver of pleasure that coursed through her.

As the background music swelled with the smooth sounds of 'Aaliyah's One in a Million', Genesis pulled Jimmy close, and they lost themselves in a dance, reveling in the joy of each other's presence.

As everyone else joined in, she embraced him, her arms draped around his neck while his hands rested on her hips. They swayed together to the rhythm of the music, her soft laughter filling the air as she breathed in his familiar scent, resting her head against his chest and letting her body melt into his warmth.

“you know I love you Gigi?” Jimmy whispered gently.

“I know you do Bo, it scares me sometimes.” Genesis replied while she looked up at him with her innocent eyes.

He released a gentle laugh, his tone rich and laden with a sense of fragility. “Why mama?”

She averted her gaze from him, reflecting on the five years spent with Quincy. The turmoil he caused left her feeling unfortunate—unfortunate in her quest for new love, plagued by a sense of inadequacy despite her efforts. However, since being with Jimmy, everything has transformed; it feels refreshing and uplifting.

For the first time, she felt a profound connection with someone new—someone who genuinely cherishes her. The way Jimmy showers her with love, indulges her with tenderness, and even spoils her a little overwhelms her, as she has never encountered such warmth before.

“Look at me baby, talk to me.” She locked eyes with him, interpreting his worried expression.

“I felt unlucky to find new love, I kept my heart closed off for so long and now I’m feeling more comfortable with you.” She told him.

He kissed her lips gently, “you don’t gotta worry about that anymore Gigi, you know I’m here for you and will be with you forever until we grow old together.”

With a gentle smile, she rose onto her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his. They shared several more kisses, and as she felt his hand tenderly cradling her chin, the kiss deepened, transforming into a slow, intimate exchange that revealed their vulnerability to one another.

Their tongues twirled playfully as his hand cradled her left cheek, a possessive gesture that declared her as his own.

“You don’t gotta run and hide anymore mamas.” He murmured between her lips.

“I don’t wanna run anymore Bo.” She murmured softly.

They gently separate, catching their breath as she looks into his rich, dark brown eyes, feeling his deep voice echo within her very being. “then don’t.”

His lips brushed against her neck, planting soft, lingering kisses that traveled up to her jawline. She tilted her head back in delight, lost in the moment, while the music played on and the rest of the crowd remained oblivious to the couple's intimate exchange.

“Lemme’ have you, lemme’ be the one to take care of you and heal your scars mamas. Imma show you and prove to you how deeply in love I am with you.” He sank his teeth into her neck, eliciting a soft moan that slipped from her beautiful lips, meant for his ears alone.

“B-Bo, W-wait.” 

“Tell me you mine baby, tell me.”

Her fingers wove through his hair as he nibbled on her neck, claiming her as his own. When he finally pulled back, she noticed his lips stained a deep purple from the passionate kisses, while her cheeks burned with the heat of his unexpected caress.

She gently stroked his cheek before entwining her fingers with his. “I’m yours Bo, I’m forever yours.”

With a grin, Jimmy twirled her around, then drew her back into his warm embrace, making her laugh joyfully.

“I gotchu baby.” Jimmy said.

“I know you do Bo.”

__

As the night drew to a close, guests hurriedly gathered their belongings and prepared to leave. Genesis's mother graciously permitted her and Jimmy to stay for the weekend, sparing them the trouble of driving home late. While Genesis busied herself with fixing their plates, she heard her stepfather calling her name, prompting her to turn around with a bright smile lighting up her face.

“What’s up Pops?” Genesis asked.

“I just wanted to say how proud I am of you sweetheart, and you got a good man on your shoulders dear.” Mr Porter said.

She chuckled at him, “does that mean you approve of him papa?”

“Of course I do, we connect right on the money!” Genesis chuckled to herself, shaking her head at her stepfather's silly antics.

“Seriously though Gigi, he has a good heart and good intentions with you don’t let that man slip away.” She smiled and nodded as her stepfather planted a gentle kiss on her cheek, then made his way to the living room to enjoy some television.

The burden of her family's disapproval of Jimmy has vanished—now they adore him and his playful spirit. As she prepared their plates and stored them in the fridge for the next day, she made her way upstairs to one of the guest rooms.

As she reached for the doorknob, soft moans drifted through the crack, prompting her to push the door ajar. Her eyes widened in shock as she caught sight of Jimmy, his long eight-inch member gliding rhythmically in his hand, his head resting against the headboard as he whispered her name in a husky moan.

She noticed the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, while his thumb gently caressed the tip of his cock, stirring a warm sensation that pooled between her thighs.

She could hear his soft whimpers, “fuck Gigi, I need you so bad baby.” She anticipated his behavior upon their arrival, fully aware of his sexual frustration.

She had to feign surprise for a brief moment as she swung open the door, catching him off guard until he recognized her presence after her brief absence downstairs—his gaze revealed a hunger, as if he wished to consume her in an instant.

As she closed the door and secured the lock, she strolled past him on her way to the bathroom to brush her teeth, only to be interrupted by his resonant voice calling her name.

“Gigi.” Jimmy called out to her with a raspy tone.

“Hm?” Genesis turned her head, her eyes widening at the sight of his impressive eight-inch cock, standing proud and formidable.

He rose to his feet and approached her, who was retreating against the wall behind her, her gaze locked onto his dark eyes brimming with desire, and surprisingly, she felt no fear.

“C’mere baby, don’t run from me.” He said softly.

“I’m not Bo, whatchu want?” She reacted as her hand enveloped his rugged form, gliding up and down, making him dissolve under her caress, his eyes tightly shut and head thrown back in ecstasy at her touch.

“You want me baby?”

“Mhm, been wanting yo’ cute ass since we came up here. Keep stroking it like that Gigi.” Following his instructions, she caressed him gently, savoring the way he succumbed to her every movement.

She gently caressed his sensitive tip with her thumb, leaving a slick residue behind. As she did this, she felt his hand tugging at her waist, drawing her nearer so he could murmur sweet nothings into her ear while she continued to pleasure him.

Genesis pressed gentle, moist kisses against his neck, sensing his muscles tense as he lifted her nightgown, his hands exploring her curves in slow, circular motions before delivering a playful smack. “Fuck, faster Gigi. Stroke it faster mamas.” He moaned softly.

She quickened her pace, caressing him while leaving marks on his neck and chest. “Like this daddy? you like it when I’m stroking this big ass dick?” She whispered in his ear.

“Yes mamas, this yo’ dick baby. I’m yours.”

Her pace gradually intensified, the gentle touch of her hand becoming more passionate and enchanting. Every gesture, every whispered word sent tingles coursing through him, clouding his mind and making concentration ever more elusive.

“Oh my god, Genesis.” A deep, primal groan rumbled from his throat as he held her legs, pressing her against the wall while she encircled his waist, captivated by the sight of his muscles rippling with strength during the effortless lift.

The sharp contrast between the frigid chill on her shoulder blades and the intense heat radiating from Jimmy's body against her front sent a wave of exhilarating shivers racing down her spine.

He repositioned his hold, his powerful hands enveloping her form, gently parting her as he aligned himself at her threshold. “Imma fuck this pussy up, and you better be a good girl and take it.”

She obeyed, intertwining her ankles at the base of his back while he pushed her against the bedroom wall. Her fingers wove through his hair as she leaned in for a kiss.

He pressed into her softness and then penetrated her fully in a powerful thrust. Genesis bit her lip to stifle her cries, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of being so thoroughly filled. The angle was relentless—deeper than ever, reaching depths that clouded her mind.

The creamy essence enveloped him perfectly with every thrust, the gentle sound of her back hitting the wall, their breaths intertwining and echoing in the shadows.

“Fuck baby, this pussy is so good. I’m so addicted to this shit.” He let out a low growl, his motions steady as he penetrated her further. “So addicted to you mamas.”

Jimmy adjusted his hold on her thighs, his fingers digging into her tender skin as he pressed her against the wall. He widened her legs, enabling him to penetrate further. With each upward thrust, he pulled her down onto him, his fingers immersing in her softness.

The rhythmic sound of their bodies meeting filled the room, while her mind swirled with ecstasy and affection. With every thrust, her warmth wrapped around him tighter, flowing down to where they connected with each powerful movement.

“Oh my—“ She inhaled sharply, her voice a mere whisper as she struggled to remain silent. Her head gently leaned against the wall with a soft thump, revealing the elegant curve of her neck to his eager lips.

He quickly found her pulse point, sucking with enough intensity to leave a mark she would need to conceal the next day. His hips moved in a steady rhythm, the firm length of him gliding against that sensitive area within her. With every retreat, her body clung to him tightly, only to fully surrender as he thrust back in.

Their bodies were surrounded by her wetness, enabling each thrust to move more smoothly and reach deeper than ever.

He leaned in closer, his voice low and rough, nearly a whisper as it brushed against her ear. “this the best dick you ever had, baby? Huh?” His voice was taunting and teasing at the same time.

Genesis struggled to find the right words; she felt utterly lost as he shattered her into fragments.

Her body responded, drawing him in deeper with each thrust. The pressure in her stomach grew stronger, tightening more with every motion.

He maintained his pace of rebellion, “look at you mamas taking this dick so good baby.”

She eagerly embraced him, her toes beginning to unfurl from their previous tight grip. “Shitshitshit, Bo.” She emitted a gentle whimper, her thighs beginning to tremble as they encircled his waist. “it’s soo big daddy.”

“Yeah? Big for you to handle it baby like a big girl huh?” He emitted a deep growl, his hands holding her tightly. “Keep taking this big ass dick for me princess.”

He sped up, thrusting into her with intense desire. The sound of their bodies crashing together intensified, becoming more urgent. Genesis pressed her face into his shoulder to stifle her moans, her teeth digging into his flesh.

He overwhelmed her completely, with Jimmy's hands stretching her cheeks apart and massaging her backside. In this moment, she was entirely exposed and under his control. She gasped as he penetrated her tightness after teasing the entrance with a single finger.

He whispered, “Mhm, pussy so wet for me mamas." He noticed her face transforming into a pleading expression, reminiscent of a puppy asking him to take it easy. “I know mamas, I know just keep taking it for me baby.”

She felt as if she were floating, her thoughts consumed by the powerful emotions coursing through her.

As the pleasure heightened, her clitoris pressed against his lower abdomen with every thrust, creating the ideal friction that propelled her closer to orgasm.

“Clench onto me some more baby lemme’ feel her.” He urged, his voice tense as he struggled to keep his composure.

She tilted her face towards his lips, releasing a gentle moan as the first waves of her orgasm began to envelop her.

Jimmy became entranced by her sounds, his kiss growing passionate and fervent as he sensed her tightening embrace. "Mhmm," he whispered gently between kisses, “yess baby fuck.”

Her body transformed into a vessel of his delight as he rhythmically penetrated, driving her nearer to ecstasy. Each muscle tightened, and every nerve tingled with sensation as she neared her climax. Jimmy's movements became increasingly frantic, his breath ragged and heavy against her skin.

Jimmy let out a soft groan against Bia's lips, his rhythm faltering for a moment as her body clenched around him. “I’m about to fucking nut. Ohh Gigi. I’m about to nut baby.”

His actions became more frantic and intense. 

Genesis held onto him tightly, her thoughts clouded with a desperate hope that her parents remained unaware of their presence.

Before she could articulate her thoughts, she surrendered completely, her body quaking as she clung to him desperately, her essence flowing down her thighs, prompting Jimmy to glance at the chaos she had made.

He gently kissed her forehead, offering comfort as he made love to her with deep affection, which he truly felt for her.

“Pull out Bo, pull out.” She begged him.

“Where you want it then baby?” He breathed out deeply against her neck, his voice tense as he struggled to keep his composure.

“On my face cum on my face daddy.” She wrapped her legs around his waist as his thrusts grew more intense and frantic. Breathing heavily against her neck, she felt herself losing control, pulling him in closer.

“Fuck I’m cummin’ again Bo, I’m cummin’”

“Cum for me baby, let it out baby.” Jimmy thrust deeper and deeper, triggering her second orgasm, causing her to squirt on his body as she felt euphoric, as if she were on cloud nine.

“Keep cummin’ baby c’mon gimme one more baby.” She let out a soft whimper against his neck, her eyes rolling back in her head as she felt overwhelmed by his presence.

She whined, “Dadddy I can’t, I fucking can’t.”

He penetrated further into her, eliciting a loud gasp. “yes you can, fuck Genesis. Make a mess on me some more baby let it out.

She was reaching her limit, her nails digging into his skin, but it was his whispered, crude words in her ear that pushed her over the edge.

“Fuckkk Jimmy! Ohhh fuckk.” She cried out passionately as she experienced her third climax of the night, tears streaming down her face and fluids trickling down her thighs.

He thrust into her one final time before withdrawing, as she fell to her knees, tongue extended, while his thick streams of semen erupted onto her face, accompanied by a deep growl that escaped his lips.

Genesis knelt with trembling legs, savoring his sweet essence on her tongue while offering him a weary smile. He paused his movements, observing the remnants of his release on her face, before gripping her throat and kissing her deeply.

The kiss was intense and fervent, her fingers entwined in his hair as they passionately embraced, savoring the sweetness of his essence.

“You so good to me baby, so fucking good.” Jimmy murmured between her lips.

Jimmy held her close as he carried her bridal style into the bathroom, using his foot to close the door behind them. He gently set Genesis down on the sink counter, positioning himself between her legs.

He positioned her legs over his shoulders, aware of her heightened sensitivity—he gently bit her lower lip, tugging it back before diving back into the kiss. He took hold of himself, rubbing his tip against her folds before entering her, eliciting moans from both of them.

“Bo, baby.” Genesis moaned softly.

Their gaze remained locked as her creamy essence enveloped him, allowing for smooth movements in and out like a water slide.

“What baby? What?” Jimmy taunted.

His hips collided with her thighs, their groans intertwining and resonating in the bathroom as he thrust into her, prompting her to arch her back in pleasure.

He was ensuring she experienced every sensation he desired as she bit down on her bottom lip, holding his gaze, fully aware of how much he cherished looking into her innocent eyes.

“Pretty ass keep looking at me, look how I’m good I’m fucking this pussy baby.” 

“Fuck me s-so good d-daddy.”

“Yeah? Daddy fucks you good huh mama.” She remembered him saying that once she allowed him in, she would become addicted to him, and he was right; she became deeply attached to him, as if he were a drug.

He was her heroin addiction.

And so was she.

Jimmy maintained his rhythm as he penetrated her deeper, causing her eyes to roll back and her mouth to open wide, until he lifted her and began thrusting into her slick core.

“B-Bo!” She gasped.

“Un-Huh, take this dick I’m giving you.” She was taken by surprise when he entered the bathroom for a second round, as she had assumed he would be tired, but she was mistaken; he was brimming with energy.

She continuously rolled her eyes back, keeping them shut as waves of pleasure washed over her. It felt as if he was delving deeper within her, gradually unraveling her piece by piece.

Genesis could feel his body connecting with hers, igniting her passion as he kissed her deeply during their intimate moment.

His tongue explored her mouth while her hands tugged at his curls, and with each thrust growing deeper, she felt overwhelmed, as if she couldn't endure it any longer.

“B-Bo baby, I-I C-can’t.” she breathes out while trying to keep up.

He ignored her pleas as he drove deeper, causing her to gasp and moan loudly, the sound of their bodies colliding resonating throughout the bathroom.

She clawed at his skin, causing him to hiss in pain as he bit down on his bottom lip, looking down at her intently.

Genesis experienced a familiar sinking feeling in her stomach, realizing she was about to climax with this man. She sensed he was aware of it as well, given her expression.

He stimulated her g-spot while she tugged at his curls, engaging her with conversation throughout. "you finna cum? go ahead, make a mess on me, mama daddy gotchu." Jimmy was aware of his charm in conversation.

As he continued to hit her sweet spot, she was so overwhelmed by the depth of their connection that she couldn't comprehend the impact she had on him.

“This my fucking pussy huh? Tell daddy this shit belongs to him.” Genesis struggled to speak as she was contorted like a pretzel.

“Talk to me baby.”

“Yess! Yes Bo! This is all yours!” Her fourth climax of the evening enveloped him in her creamy essence, reminiscent of vanilla ice cream, while her legs trembled.

She desperately wanted to escape his grasp, but he held her firmly against the wall, penetrating her deeply and making her feel every sensation.

“Don’t run from me, take this dick mama.” His voice was low and gravelly, nearly breaking as he clung to her thighs for stability.

“D-dadddy, oh my goddd.” Genesis was overcome with emotion as tears started to stream down her face.

Jimmy pressed his lips to her cheeks and then to her lips, attempting to soothe her as his actions became increasingly uncoordinated.

As they became more careless, she felt ecstatic at that moment, tugging at his curls to draw him nearer.

She embraced his damp body closely, feeling his breath on her neck as he planted several wet kisses there, prompting her to moan his name softly in his ear.

He felt himself on the verge of climax as he thrust into her with intensity, and without hesitation, she wrapped her legs around his waist.

“Shit, I’m finna cum Gigi. Where you want it?” Jimmy groaned as he was giving it his all.

“In me, cum in me Jimmy.” He gazed into her eyes, ensuring she was choosing wisely.

“Mamas you sure? Ion wanna get you pregnant baby.” 

He was unaware that before booking their flight to Atlanta, she had visited the clinic to start birth control, ensuring she wouldn't get pregnant until she felt prepared.

“It’s okay Bo, cum inside of me I want all of your kids.”

She granted him permission once more as he passionately made love to her, seeking his pleasure while burying his face in her neck, savoring her warm kisses trailing down his skin, all the while spreading her further apart and thrusting deeply into her.

“Cum for me daddy, cum.” Her sweet little mischievous whispers.

In that moment, he thrust into her one final time, completely filling her as a groan escaped his lips, while her body trembled beneath him and he shuddered.

He withdrew from her, breathing heavily against her neck as she clung to him, savoring his warm kisses on her neck and cheeks. When he finally pulled away, she looked at him with a hint of concern.

“Why would you let me cum inside of you baby?” Jimmy asked.

“I allowed it because I’m on birth control right now Bo.” Genesis explained.

“You got on birth control? You didn’t tell me baby, I should’ve been there.”

He was right; he ought to have been there, but she didn't inform him, so she went by herself.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, you were busy with your schedule before we even planned this weekend trip.”

He gently set her on her feet, maintaining his grip on her waist as he caressed both sides of her hips.

“Still you could’ve told me Gigi.” She felt a pang of regret for not speaking up, aware that all he ever desired was for her to share her thoughts, even if they were just small matters.

Jimmy gently held her chin and pressed a tender kiss on her lips.

“I’m not mad at you baby, just tell me next time please? I don’t need you shutting me out mama.” She embraced him firmly, nodding her head as he rested his chin on her head and gently rubbed her back.

Following their shared shower, Genesis drifted into a deep slumber on Jimmy's chest, while he gazed at her serene beauty, gently brushing her hair away from her face to appreciate her more fully.

As he was occupied, he noticed her phone illuminate, piquing his curiosity. He picked it up, unlocked it, and discovered a message from an unfamiliar number, suspecting it might be from Zilla.

However, upon reading the message, his entire attitude shifted dramatically.

Unknown Number: Next time yo’ Samoan ass nigga point a gun at me I’ll shoot his ass dead Gigi trust 

Jimmy let out a soft laugh as he set her phone back on the small dresser beside them, settling into the bed together. He was determined to keep his composure in front of her friends, but he couldn't shake the thought that Darrius was in for a surprise come tomorrow afternoon.

Aware that they will stay through the weekend until Monday morning, when they board their flight to a different city.

He quickly picked up his phone and sent a message to Jacari, sharing all the important details.

Jimmy❤️‍🩹: Aye we need to handle that little boy toy Darrius tmr you down?

Cari🎯: I’m down fasho been wanting to whoop his ass ever since he been tryna get at Gigi since high school 

Jimmy❤️‍🩹: bet yk where he stay at?

Cari🎯: sure do nigga lives in them little ass apartments down the street I can drive us there tmr fasho 

Jimmy❤️‍🩹: aight let’s leave in the afternoon that way Genesis can spend time with yall momma and pops

Cari🎯: aight see you tmr 

As Jimmy set his phone down beside him, he pulled the blankets over their bodies to ward off the evening chill. He leaned in to plant a gentle kiss on Genesis's forehead before settling in for a cozy night in bed.

He gently shut his eyes, sensing Genesis stir in her slumber as he drew her nearer, basking in the warmth that enveloped them both, before surrendering to the embrace of sleep.

jonathanfatu, biancabelairwwe, jadecargill, and others liked your post.

gigispovv: pressure? still applying it 🩷

jonathanfatu: pressure indeed baby look at you 😩😩

gigispovv @ jonathanfatu my hype man 🫶🏽

biancabelairwwe: girrlll your face card will forever be eating 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

uceyjucey: my brother giving you that GLOWSTICK

gigispovv: @ uceyjucey DONT PMO JOSHUA 😭😭

carmelohayes: damn you look good asf

jonathanfatu: @ carmelohayes you must want to get yo’ ass whooped right? stay outta her comments bitch

yaonlylivonce: girrrrl get his name tatted on you pleaseee or him shi both of yall should do it

gigispovv: @ yaonlylivonce i heard that give you bad luck ill think about it 😭😭

MontezFordWWE: Jimmy bagged a pretty one 

americannightmarecody: I MISS YOU GIGI

gigispovv: @ americannightmarecody I’ll be back on Monday nigga calm down 😂😂

rikishi: the fam misses you Gigi ❤️

gigispovv: @ rikishi tell em i'll visit soon pops 🫶🏽

jackieredmond: so we gonna speed past the fact that they had a time together with that fucking Don Julio in the second pic or what? 😭😭

gigispovv: @ jackieredmond JACKIE 😭😭😭

read all comments.

GUARDED

a/n: Darrius better watch out Jimmy ain’t no bitch he’ll kill him if he has to. 

but I hope y'all enjoy this chapter lmk in the comments below.

STAY UCEY.

chapter fourteen

previous chapter

[magicalbuttertarts]

WWE Masterlist

Christmas 2024

This has not been proofread. Please enjoy though.

Warnings: nothing.

WC: 458

©️ magicalbuttertarts 2024: do not repost or translate my work. This is the only place I post my work.

"Still isn't fair that I didn't get you for secret Santa." Jey grumbled as he crossed his arms as he looked at the gift in his hand.

Surprising it was his brother, Jimmy, who was his secret Santa and got him some new shoes.

"I will get you something nice for your birthday, how does that sound?" I asked, placing my hand on his cheek to try and get this man to smile.

He looked me dead in the eyes and said, "That doesn't help with the situation right now, Rhea." I just sighed and slapped his cheek.

"I'm gonna go and give her my gift."

I grabbed the box I had placed on my chair when I stood up.

I took a deep breath, and exhaled, now worried about the gift. Her and I don't know each other that well, as she started with the company only a few months ago.

But she seems friendly enough.

I could see her off in the corner, looking around for I guess who she got for secret Santa.

People stopped to talk to me, which I would stop and talk to them, but it was only smalltalk.

When I was finally in her eyes line, she smiled, making me smile.

"Rhea." I said her name right back.

"I got you for secret Santa." We both said to one another, us surprising the other one.

We sat down at a table.

"You go first." I informed her, as we switched gifts.

I watched as she excited ripped open the package, then she softly gasped as she looked at what I got her.

"Rhea, how did you know?" She gently picked up the blue leatherbound notebook. Her thumb rubbing over the engraved, silver initials of her name, in the bottom, right corner.

"I always see you writing, but I heard from a few people that you filled yours up, and just haven't got time to grab a new one, also, this one is refillable. Just have to order from the website."

"Thank you, Rhea. Now your turn." She excitedly said to me.

I opened the gift and almost choked on air when I saw what it was.

The Bose QuietComfort Ultra headphones.

"I know you jokingly said all you wanted was peace and quiet for Christmas one year, but Jey told me that your headphones broke, so I figures this would be the perfect gift."

I am too stunned to speak.

These are so expensive, but it was like she read my mind.

"My cousin works for Bose."

"Thank you." I beamed, not being able to keep the smile off my face, as I said, "Merry Christmas and happy holidays." To her.

"Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to you as well, Rhea."

Damian Priest ♥︎ Willow Nightingale

Christmas 2024 taglist: @madhatterbri @missdesiree81

Tag list: @lghockey @nicoleveno14 @legit9thlunaticwarrior @hooks-martin @madhatterbri @wwenhlimagines @melissahausen @tahiri-veyla

[tunastime]

Love in the Time of Calculation

as promised: the first chapter of the ranchers SEN fic! this fic takes place inside the au I created for Stretching Endless Night. I'm hoping posting this first chapter will actually get me to. write the rest of it. since I've got so much of it written. jazz hands!! enjoy!

In order to continue supplying food for a growing station, Commander Tango Tek, second to the head of engineering on the space station Prometheus, takes a six month study with the Empire-2 station at the behest of his admiral. There, he meets their botanist and horticulturist, Jimmy, a man he's only communicated with in communiques, voice memos, and documents. When they meet for the first time face-to-face, Tango realizes they both have something very interesting in common. In the face of all odds, two androids fall deeply, horribly in love. (6711 words)

Tango flips a switch on his navigation panel.

“It would be funny,” he says, slowly, enunciating as the recorder picks him up. “If I were to start these with some outlandish startdate. I would find it hilarious, I think, but I don’t know how many other people would. So…

Stardate 2105.47: I’ve just made brief contact with the Ring-style Space Station known as the Empire-dash-2. After discussion of docking procedure, I was forwarded the…passkey for the docking sequence and I should be arriving within two hours of my current time. That time is…in hour format…8:07pm. Lookin’ forward to meeting them, as much as they’re probably lookin’ forward to meeting me. I’ve never spoken to them in person—it’s all been electronic. So…it’ll be interesting, to say the least!” He nods, feeling some inclination to sigh—despite there being no way to. Motions he’d learned and copied from his peers. 

“Thus begins my month-long stay with E-dash-2. I can only hope some work with hydroponics actually gets me somewhere. They tell me the guy’s a genius, so I’m inclined to believe them.”

Tango jabs his finger against the stop recording button. After a beat, the small, LCD screen flashes SENT in dark, bold letters. Leaning back in his chair, Tango folds his arms over his chest, and sets his boots on his console. The ship around him hums faintly, enough to be heard if he pays attention to it. As he leans back, he surveys the inside of his ship, the LTS-111, the small craft that he called home. In comparison to other ships on the Prometheus, it’s smaller, built for short term travel between locations, a cool, dark grey inside. There’s two swivel chairs at the helm, a large front, port window, overlain with his control panel, above and below his chair. Behind him, a door opens to a short hallway—mess hall and his room, just a plain, grey-white with one bunk. There’s a crate with his belongings, of which there are few, a plant on the windowsill to keep him sane. The mess is devoid of food and drink. It’s a luxury he doesn’t need. It’s nice when he can, but it’s nothing but an experience for him. Nothing to be gained from poorly made HASA meals full of crude protein. The edge of his boot catches the lip of the console, pulling at the rubber. He’s tucked his flight suit into his boots. His eyes follow the bright red and gold stripe down the side—division colors. Commander, engineering and technology. On his sleeve there would be the same designation, as was on all of his uniforms. Even the plain black, well fit shirt underneath, even his boots. HASA; Commander. Luckily his boots didn’t have a commander or engineering tag. If he felt so inclined to sand off the small rubber HASA branding he could.

His eyes follow a line across the ceiling, to the small strip of light that brightens the room. He runs his fingers over the seam in his sleeve—habit, again, but he’s not sure from whom. 

The hour passes slowly. Tango spins simulations in his mind, projects from the ship's computer the schematics of E-2. He can see the docking station there on the map and traces out the line from there to the botanical garden. He spends time memorizing that path, and out to other locations, and rolling the names of his new compatriots around in his language acquisition program. None of these things are foreign to him—he’s built for new experiences, new learning opportunities. He can feel where known things end and new begins, and craves to fill the space, often and continuously. When that hour ends, there’s a tinny beep from his communications panel. He looks over the message displayed.

LTS-111 prepare docking sequence.

Tango dials the coordinates into his navigation system, overriding the current charting program to pilot into the docking bay. As he does, a crackling voice jumps to life.

“LTS-111, this is Fwhip, Commander of E-2. Do you copy?”

“E-2, this is Commander Tek of Prometheus. I copy. The Rift is ready for docking procedure.”

“Commander!” The voice—Fwhip—laughs. “It’s good to have you. Glad to hear you made it safely.”

Tango nods to himself.

“Myself as well. Looking forward to meeting you all.”

The line clicks out. Tango resettles in his chair, sitting up straight, taking in the sound of Fwhip’s voice, the designation, the information. He files that away.

The curve of E-2 comes into view, stark white and grey, glittering gold where the paneling reflects light. He watches as the shining craft sits suspended amidst stars, its own field of gravity and oxygen and life shining a faint blue in the light of the nearby sun. He feels that warmth through the front viewscreen, despite the gold foil and shade to block it. It’s nice. In the closest approximation to nice he could get. He pulls the seat’s harness over his chest, snaps it in place as he begins standard docking procedure—slowing to a noticeable crawl, flipping on his communications panels, and switching to reserve thrusters. The Rift was made with older tech, anything he could salvage and amass from ships being decommissioned. It functioned—better than the standard HASA ships and was fully compliant—well beyond what he’d ever expected. Though he wasn’t quite human enough to have real expectations.

The ship settles into a launch port on the far side of E-2. Tango takes his time collecting his belongings. He wanders into his room as the ship powers down, settling into a dull hum. He repacks his bag, giving a quick once-over of the bunk before he lifts the trunk into his arms, the weight negligible. He settles the plant in the corner of his bag, making sure it’s settled before he slings the bag over one shoulder and sets the crate on one hip. His startup keycard sits in his front shirt pocket, and his credentials badge in his back pocket. 

The first thing he notices as he enters the launchpad for E-2 is how clean and bright it is. The launchpad is devoid of anyone working, and there are certainly no other docking ships. The two other ships Tango can see are relatively new and clean, parked closely together. He glances around the space, looking for any sign of movement. His footsteps echo quietly around the empty chamber. To his right, beyond a stabilizing membrane is the winking stars of space. There’s a planet in the far distance, but it’s much too far to see anything notable. 

The bay door to his ship closes as he steps toward the winding steps up to the lofted second floor. He starts up the steps, lifting the crate into his arms. 

“Commander Tek!”

Tango startles. Looking up to the second floor, he sees someone lean over the railing, waving enthusiastically. Tango squints at him, surrounded by the white facade of the walls around him. 

“Commander Fwhip?” Tango says, cocking his head to the side. He sees Fwhip nod again.

Tango smiles a little, eyebrows furrowing despite it. Fwhip. The intonation matches what he heard crackling over the communicator of his ship, though, of course, without the static. He’s wearing stark black, with a large diagonal line cut in red across his chest, up to his collar, and over his shoulders. Tango realizes for a moment that his jumpsuit may not have been the prime choice for meeting a commanding officer—no matter the rank or office. Especially considering that he was supposed to be both a liaison and a researcher. 

But as Fwhip meets Tango on the landing, he shakes his hand firmly. There’s a spark, somewhere, in his eye, his heart rate elevated as Tango greets him. He’s winded, too, like he ran all the way here. Tango feels a piece of information in his mind click unexpectedly into place.

“Commander Fwhip,” he says, copying the smile Fwhip is giving him more fully. “It’s a pleasure.”

“Oh, please,” Fwhip laughs. “Commander, the pleasure is ours. Congratulations on your most recent publication.”

Tango nods. Somewhere, something kicks in his chest, just the faintest flicker of painful phantom sensation. It took him two years to publish that paper—and it was a damn shame he had to die to get it published in full, despite Doc and Etho’s help.

Fwhip’s hand is warm in his, enough to notice the change in sensation between them. He can feel Fwhip’s heartbeat in his palm and the way his breathing stutters for a second when Tango and him shake hands. Fwhip looks down at his hand. Tango lets go first, the noticeable white lines on his skin pulsating in and out. His hand feels stiff as he stretches it, feeling metal extend and retract.

“You’re…” Fwhip starts. Tango sees him frown, just the smallest change between his eyebrows. 

“An android?” Tango finishes. He watches color rise to Fwhip’s face as Tango tilts his head, expression neutral, amused, even. Fwhip laughs, even if it’s born from a touch of embarrassment. Tango hums something low, a version of a laugh he can manage to sound normal. 

“It’s not strange, if that’s what you think I think,” Fwhip says, leading Tango toward the stairs. “Unexpected maybe, but—to be fair, they didn’t tell you anything about me, either.”

“That is very true,” Tango says. He feels that itch, then, that want to know, to delve deeper. He shifts the box in his arms as they round the stairs, reaching the upper platform. “I think most people are surprised to find that I’m an android.” 

“That’s a shame—you’re brilliant for more reasons than just being an android,” Fwhip says, and the click comes back again, like he’s cracking a combination lock one number at a time. 

“I appreciate that,” Tango says, inclining his head. If there were anything in his face to indicate blush, he would be bright red. He hums instead, tilting his head back and forth in a dismissive sort of shake. Fwhip backsteps to walk by his side, raising his eyebrows over his glasses.

“So,” he starts, motioning to the door. “Did you have any questions about the ship as you settle in?”

Tango looks down at his shoes for a second, letting the thought spin in his head. He nods, just once.

“Yeah,” he says. “I’d love to hear more about the botany division—I got a real short mission briefing with Admiral Xisuma before I left. I know we were in a hurry to find the sweet spot of travel.”

“Of course,” Fwhip says. “Lining up that parallel can be real difficult if you don’t time it right.”

“The Admiral’s got an eye for interesting navigation patterns.”

Fwhip laughs, nodding his head. 

“Glad to hear you’re in good hands,” he says, opening the door for them. Tango follows him into a brightly lit hallway, lined in white and cream and bright floor lights. Along the edges are colored lines, intersecting and dividing—red, blue, green—to locations Tango can’t see. He follows Fwhip down a corridor, further from the launch platform. Tango knows this layout—further down the hall is a passenger elevator meant for the science team. They’ll take it down four flights to the belly of the ship, where many of the labs rest, tucked away. The ship's rings orbit each other, so he’ll be in this ring for as long as he’s doing research. They’re relatively straight forward, broken into divided sections inside. He traces the pattern out in his mind as Fwhip begins to speak.

“Well, to give you a station briefing, our main team fluctuates, but I’d say we have about 15 to 20 of us at any given time on command, and then a hundred of personnel and staff besides ourselves. I work closely with Lieutenants Scott and Pix, and both of them know our botanist pretty well,” he turns to Tango as he calls for the elevator, pressing his keycard to the small panel next to it. The numbers above the sliding doors illuminate in orange, bright and blocky. Tango raises his eyebrows. 

“His name is Jimmy,” Fwhip continues. “He’s a Lieutenant Junior Grade, but he’s incredibly good at what he does. I’ll let you two get acquainted when we get down there.” The elevator doors slide open. Fwhip gestures Tango inside before he himself steps in, pressing the button for their floor. Tango sets his trunk at his feet, toeing it off to the side and out of the way. “He spends most of his time down there, so you may not see him much at all besides when you’re working.”

Tango hums. He screws up his face into an approximation of thinking, running the words over in his head. A junior lieutenant. A higher officer, for certain, but for him to be teaching Tango—there feels like there should be a catch. Tango pulls at the seams of the phrasing, the intonation. His eyebrows furrow.

Fwhip answers his question before it leaves his mouth.

“He basically revitalized the hydroponics system overnight—nothing’s changed in the watering or feeding system, but the plants grow like crazy now,” Fwhip folds his arms, glancing over at Tango as Tango folds his hands behind his back. “I think it was his specification for a while, so as soon as he got here, he requested the transfer, and his work brought him up the grade.”

“That’s impressive,” Tango says, a touch quiet. The only other person he knew who’d ever done something like that had been Mumbo, and most of his ideas were feats of engineering so large they required a three-room modified lab space and a blast chamber. Meridian supplied that—though Prometheus—himself included—was sad to lose him to their sister station, especially after how long he worked with Tango. 

“He’s written a paper on it—it’s in the works of being reviewed now,” Fwhip says. “I don’t know how likely it is to go through, though.”

Tango hums again. 

“Why’s that?”

Fwhip shrugs. “He’s just not a nice guy to work with,” he says. “And I don’t mean that to be rude, either.”

The elevator doors open. They spill out into a lackluster hallway, still the same bleach white as the floors above. Taking a sharp right, they follow the curved edge of the ship down the green line, toward a series of crew cabins. Fwhip gestures toward a room closer to the middle of their row. As they stand there for a moment, he offers Tango a keycard.

“We got you a room—well before we knew that you…probably wouldn’t need the bedspace,” he says, shaking his head apologetically. Tango waves his hand. “You’re welcome to it, though.”

“Oh, I’ll absolutely take it,” Tango says, trying that smile again. Fwhip smiles back this time, one that touches his eyes, and makes Tango smile harder.”I like having my own space. Normally I have an office, so this’ll do just fine, I think.”

He presses the keycard to the door as Fwhip lifts his crate into his arms, struggling under the weight for a moment. The door slides open. Inside, as the soft yellow lights raise to bright, is a sparsely furnished room. Fwhip carries his crate into the room, setting it at the foot of the double bed. The room is small, clean, tidy. He turns in a small circle as Fwhip sets the crate down, nodding his head.

“This is great,” Tango says, dipping his head. “Thank you.”

Fwhip nods, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Absolutely,” he says. Moving past him, he gestures back to the hallway. “I’ll be forwarding you the ship changelog, so you know who’s on shift at a given time, and when meals are, if you have any interest.”

“That sounds great,” Tango says, moving with him to the hall. He follows Fwhip back down the hall, back towards the elevator. They diverge at a second hallway and down a third, following the winding corridor through the ship’s interiors. The walls shift from opaque to translucent as they follow the path down, with more and more people shuffling about. Fwhip moves through the hall easily—Tango navigates with a bit more difficulty, skirting past doors sliding open and bright lights and the new rush of people. As they weave through, Fwhip says:

“Figured I’d show you down to the lab,” he checks his wrist, a brief flash of numbers and notifications that Tango doesn’t quite catch fully. “I’ve got a bit before I have to be back at the bridge.”

Tango hums.

“Great—I’ll…hopefully be able to find, uh, Jimmy?”

Fwhip nods. 

“Mhm—” he says. They pause at a lab closer to the end of the corridor. Through the high ceiling and tinted glass, Tango can see the warm yellow and purple light that floods the space. The lab stretches further down the hallway and out of sight. Fwhip tilts his head toward the lab. 

“This is it?” Tango asks. 

“This is the one,” Fwhip says. He steps back from the door, letting Tango tap his card, the door sliding open for him. It stays open for a moment as Tango steps in. Fwhip checks his wrist again.

“I’ll let you find him,” he says. “Hopefully you’ll get a briefing before you leave to unpack.”

Tango nods, smiling again. The warmth of the room starts to roll over him as he stands still—cooling kicks on to adjust, like a sigh out of his chest.

“Thank you, Commander,” he says. Fwhip nods, dismissing him, before the door shuts between them, and Tango stands, alone, in a room full of plants.

He picks his way around the lab for a long while. The quiet is nice, the sound of air circulating and the soft hum of lights and electronics. He hadn’t run this particular section over in his schematics—something about it almost felt invasive. He wanted to learn it for himself, standing in the center of the room, hands braced on the work table. The equipment portion of the lab is its own self-contained room at the front of the lab—big enough for a table, several workstations, shelves of equipment. He rounds the table as he spots a secondary sliding door, obscured by the semi-translucent, white glass. 

Tango presses his loaned keycard to the scanner, watching the door slide open. Stepping inside, he stands amongst a huge lab filled with rows of vegetables, aquatic plants, and small trees. He can see potatoes, carrots, beets, neat and lined in suspended troughs of water and sitting in cups on the floor. Along the walls are digging and planting tools organized haphazardly, strewn about in small piles. The air is warm and humid as he walks his way around a series of rows—it almost feels like its own planet, like the atmosphere alone were thick enough to taste. 

Tango walks along a row, watching the plants with a careful consideration, as if they would move, or reach out to him, or something. But they’re just plants—unmoving beside the slight wave in the airflow. He reaches out after a moment, brushing one of the leaves, feeling it between his fingers. It’s rhubarb. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen rhubarb before. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen this many plants before.

Moving around the hydroponics, Tango wanders around the other side of the lab, watching as it stretches out and further back, rows of plants in tight lines, purple lighting and tubes for irrigation running across the ceiling. He turns into a slow circle, moving back through the rows as he does. The rows loop around back to the supply stations, where Tango walks backward, trying to see the end of the lab, where else it could lead, where else he could explore.

His foot catches under him, sliding out as his knees buckle and he lurches sideways.

He yelps loudly, flailing as he falls, losing his balance and smacking into the shelf behind him. A handful of ceramic plants pots and glass beakers fall with him, smashing to the ground as the shelf comes loose. Tango scrambles up, slipping again as he lands on his hands and knees, fumbling as he tries to scoop the glass into a reasonable, unnoticeable pile, to fix the shovels that must’ve fallen with him, the stacks of gardening gloves under his right boot. He mutters to himself as he does, babbling as his mind whirs with simulations. They were always there—right? That’s fine! He tries to stack a pair of gloves back on the shelf, watching them slide directly off. 

Shoot. Shoot! Damn it!

“Shit—” he mumbles.

“Hello?”

A voice calls out from the other side of the room. Tango hears a door shut. He pushes the broken shards of a pot near his knee together, like he could even try and fix the shattered pot. He searches wildly for the voice as he does.

“Hi—” he manages, voice warbling unexpectedly. “I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean to.”

“What?” the voice comes again. “Who…”

Tango follows a shape through the row of plants as a man in grey steps around toward him. He blinks, owlish and confused, as he stares at Tango. Tango can see the name stitched into his quarter-zip.

Jimmy.

“I’m so sorry—” Tango starts again, but the man—Jimmy—is already halfway to kneeling in front of him, taking the broken pot from him, scooping the rest of the shards into his hands. Tango realizes, all at once, that he’s still sitting on the ground, surrounded by the carnage of him falling unceremoniously over into the stand. He starts gathering the tools around him into his arms.

“It’s…it’s alright—” he sighs, a trickle of confusion, of agitation, leaking into his voice. “Walk me through it, what happened?”

“I walked into it—” Tango says, feeling foolish all of a sudden. It’s not a tangible feeling. He just knows something is churning and curling in him and he can’t place what. “One minute I was turnin’ around lookin’ at this place and the next—wack.”

Jimmy hums under his breath, something amused. Tango blinks at him as he rights the shelf and replace the items from the floor. 

“Wack?” he says, starting to laugh. “I…yeah. Sorry, I don’t organize things very well, it seems like.”

“I don’t either, I’ll be honest…” Tango says, shaking his head. “You’re Jimmy, then?”

Tango scrambles up with glass still in his hands and Jimmy turns back to him as he looks around for somewhere to put it. Jimmy nods his head over to a waste bin, dropping the shards of clay pot into it. 

“Mm,” Jimmy nods. “You’re…?”

Tango makes a half-sound as he turns back to him, waving his hands.

“Commander Tek,” he says, sticking out his hand, smiling a bit lopsided. It feels lopsided at least. He’s trying to copy what he knows, and he thinks he’s failing. “Er, Tango. You don’t have to call me Commander.”

Jimmy raises his eyebrows. 

“Ah—Fwhip told me you were coming,” he says, tilting his head a little, something like a smile coming to his face. “You’re sure just Tango?”

Tango nods.

“Too fancy with the whole thing. I prefer just Tango, anyway.”

Jimmy smiles in full. The action alone splits his face in half, stretching up to his eyes. Tango copies him, after a beat, something that falters just a little bit as he does.

Jimmy takes Tango’s hand. As he does, a buzz of electricity spikes up Tango’s arm and to his elbow, pooling there, zinging cool and bright. Tango startles, jolting back, making a small, sharp sound that gets lost as Jimmy audibly yelps. It didn’t hurt, but it felt new. Tango likes new.

He feels something wash over him, even as he jolts—memory, knowledge, understanding, like an imprint of knowing the man before him before he even did. Jimmy blinks, a furrow coming between his eyebrows. Tango, for a split second, wonders if the feeling is mutual.

“Sorry,” he blurts. The static shock dissipates as he shakes out his hand. “Sorry, I might still have glass….”

Tango looks over his hands, prodding at the silicon for any shards left there. There aren’t any, though—he even brushes them together, trying to feel for anything. Tango glances back at Jimmy. He’s looking him over, that curious, owlish expression on his face again. His mouth quirks up a little, the sides of his mouth lifting.

“You’re an android,” he says.

Tango’s eyes flick over his face for a moment. It’s completely symmetrical, brown eyes clear and bright, hair neatly parted. His movements are smooth as he steps back and adjusts his sleeves and reaches to gently brush something from Tango’s jumpsuit.

“So are you,” Tango finally says, mouth quirking up. His mouth tastes like static electricity.

“Huh,” Jimmy says, soft, thoughtful. The edges of his mouth fully curl up in a way so human and so foreign. Tango catalogs it immediately. “That’s so interesting.”

Tango huffs out an approximation of a laugh—which causes Jimmy to laugh in earnest. The tension dissolves as he laughs, and Tango feels his shoulders drop. That tingling feeling still hasn’t left Tango’s hand. He wonders for a moment if it ever will, or if every time they brush together it’ll light up like static, or if maybe they just happened to be carrying just enough electrical discharge to shock each other. Tango hopes it doesn’t happen again. He’d like to be friendly without risking a shock.

“So,” Tango starts as they stand together in the hydroponic farm. “Is there a reason ESA lets you use terracotta and glass in space?”

Jimmy shrugs. 

“They want it to feel more like Earth,” he hums, amused, turning away from Tango. He wanders a bit before Tango startles to catch up, following him through to the lab room. Jimmy pushes up the sleeves of his ESA sweatshirt. “Not that I would know what that feels like…though I do like it.”

They step through to the lab with the door hissing shut behind them. The humidity and heat follow them in, clinging to Tango’s jumpsuit. He can hear Jimmy mumbling to himself under his breath as he circles the large lab table in search of something. Tango tracks him with his eyes, pausing in the space where Jimmy once was, folding his arms. Jimmy fumbles around for a moment, digging through his cabinets, with Tango watching over his shoulder.

“That’s nice,” Tango says, eyes following him. Jimmy hums, nodding in response. “I can’t say I’ve ever seen Earth myself, either.”

“Oh yeah?” Jimmy says. When he turns back, he’s holding a data pad, a thumb drive and a blank badge. He lines them all up on the table, sitting next to each other. “Have you ever been planetside?”

Tango nods. 

“A few times with my old crew,” he starts, waving his hands back and forth. “Some dry and dusty ones for sure. Not too exciting.”

Jimmy tilts his head a bit. He’s still smiling, and Tango, for a moment, can’t take his eyes off it. He isn’t sure anyone’s ever smiled at him for that long, or maybe he’s misreading it—emotions were a fickle, strange thing. Maybe Jimmy was simply happy. 

Tango leans against the table, back pressing to the side of it, glancing down at the data pad and keycard for a moment. Jimmy looks away as Tango catches his eye. Tango thinks he sees him flush as he turns back around to the computer.

“They haven’t really briefed me on why you’re here,” Jimmy says. “Why’d they send you?”

“To E-1? We’re uh…our science director was looking for a secondary project to help bolster our food supplies—stretch it out a little longer?” He folds his arms over his chest. “Our admiral’s been in contact with Fwhip a few times conversationally, but we normally reach out to the Meridian, a station in our system, for help, but they weren’t having any hydroponics success. So…here I am.”

Jimmy nods absently as he continues typing.

“Hopefully I can give you something useful to take back,” he says, glancing up to Tango. Tango nods, raising his eyebrows.

“I mean, they say you’re the best,” he offers. It’s true—everything Pearl had told him seemed to point directly to whoever was running the botanical experimentation lab on E-2. And here he was, an android, standing in front of Tango.

“Do they?” Jimmy asks.

“Mhm!”

“That’s very nice of them…I uh, I’ve got a badge for you,” Jimmy says, sliding the piece of plastic toward him. Tango picks it up, turning it in his fingers as he listens. It has a small symbol on it, like an overlapping square and a green stripe all the way around it. When he looks back to Jimmy’s face for a moment, he notices that same green stripe around his upper arm. Green. Science. It was fitting. He fits that bit of information right next to what he knows Prometheus’ color to be: nearly the same shade.

“It’ll get you into this lab and ones like it, um, all the way down this hall,” Jimmy unlocks the data pad, pushing it toward him. “And you can record anything you’d like on this pad.”

“Oh, thank you, that’s great, actually” Tango says. He tucks the card into his pocket, where it rests against his chest. The data pad is blank, no notes, no sketches, and no documents. Just the time and date. From what he can recognize, he’s been aboard for about two hours. “Is, uh, is there somewhere we can share notes, or should I be handing this off to you periodically?”

“Whatever you write there will also be stored on the lab computer,” Jimmy says, gesturing back to the screens behind him. “Either of us can access it at any time. It should recognize you as having access to the console, so there shouldn’t be too many problems with that.”

Jimmy studies him for a brief moment before he picks up the thumb drive, twisting it in his fingers. Tango watches the movement, eyes flicking between it, and the pad, and the screen.

“So,” Jimmy starts again. “I can’t say I was expecting an android, but that does make this whole process a lot easier.”

He holds out the thumb drive—Tango holds out his hand. The small bit of plastic that falls into Tango’s palm is lightweight and bright white. He holds it between his thumb and forefinger, frowning just a little.

“What’s this for?” he asks, setting the data pad on the table again. His hands feel an itch to turn the drive around in them, nervous ticks surfacing as he receives data and writes to disk. The humidity, Jimmy’s expression, the curious glint in his eye, the buzz of excitement he can nearly feel in the air. For an android, Jimmy was certainly animated, certainly running high on emotion. Tango could reach out and grab it, if he knew he would catch something.

Jimmy nods a few times, leaning on the table in front of him.

“That right there,” he says, pointing at the drive. “Is all of my research. That way you can just—” he mimes a plugging motion, patting the back of his neck. If Tango’s chest could cave, it would have, as he feels some gear shudder and start again. “Get it all.”

Tango blinks. His vision stutters for a moment, fading out on the edge as he tries to process Jimmy’s comment, his voice. He feels that tug at his eyebrows as they furrow, a copy of a motion he’d seen so many times on so many faces. Jimmy’s research rests in the palm of his hand, still cold, despite the heat leaching from Tango’s synthetic skin.

“I think—” Tango says. What a stupid turn of phrase. He knows—he’s not thinking this time. He knows. “I can’t do that.”

Jimmy hums, face morphing into concern for a moment. Tango sees how his posture stiffens, almost a gut reaction to the change in Tango’s voice. Write to disk. Catalog. He softens his stance as Jimmy pipes up.

“What d’y’mean?”

“I think I’d rather just learn it from you,” Tango says, closing his fist around the thumb drive. “I’ll keep this, but I would like to learn from you, if that’s alright.”

Jimmy raises his eyebrows high on his forehead, nodding a few times. His dark eyes go wide, too. They flick across Tango’s face, looking for something, before they land on the table in front of him as Jimmy raps his fingers against the plastic top. Tango tucks the data drive into his pocket, where it rests with the keycard, sticking his hands in his pockets to give them something to do.

“Oh—I mean—I, sure. Sure, we can do that,” Jimmy stutters, shaking his head. “Yeah, that should be fine, you should be able to learn that way.”

“I hope so,” Tango says, nodding. Jimmy nods with him, that color briefly back in his cheeks. “I’d at least like to try. It’s what I’m known for, honestly.”

“Mm,” Jimmy says, face settling on that half-pleased, half-curious look. “Sure. That would be nice, I think. I don’t know how much I have to teach, but I can try.”

“I’m sure you’ve got plenty, Mr. Plant Guy,” Tango quips, patting him on the shoulder as he rounds around him. Jimmy laughs. The tingling sensation of touch before has gone now, and the new touch offers nothing but the sensation of soft sweater fabric, of coolness from Jimmy, and a brief flicker of information that he doesn’t quite catch. It feels like energy he can’t process. A line of code that doesn’t slot itself into place. He gives his shoulder a quick squeeze before he pulls away, gesturing to the door.

“Do you think you might be able to walk me back to my cabin?” his shoulders shrink a fraction. He tries to quickly run the simulation in his mind, etching out the turns of the hallways in the belly of the science department. All he can remember are faces, half-recognizable from research and names partially unobscured by association. “I lost track of how many turns Commander Fwhip made.”

Jimmy shrugs, nods, patting the table as he pulls away.

“Sure,” he says, fishing his keycard from around his neck. “My cabin is close to that area, so I know the way back pretty well—-”

“You have a room?”

The door slides open in front of Tango, the cool air of the hallway flooding into the room. He steps through, into the empty, well lit space, with its green stripe and green carpeting. The white-yellow lighting smooths out the edges of the walls around them, dotted with windows of the station’s central core as they slowly rotated around it. Jimmy pauses for a moment to watch as Tango does, before he nudges him with his elbow. Tango turns to follow.

“I like the bed,” Jimmy says, making a pleasant, almost chirping sound. “And the sleep cycle. And a space for my things that isn’t the lab.”

Tango nods.

“Our secondary engineering lead gets onto me when I don’t rest, but I prefer to not have to,” he says, shrugging his shoulders, waving one hand about. That gesture was from Doc, who loved to make things more nonchalant than they had to be, gesturing with his part-plastic, part-metal arm. “It wastes time.”

“You’re a busy man, Tango,” Jimmy says. He pauses just as he’s about to say Tango, like he had meant to say Commander, but had skipped the instinct. It stutters as he speaks. Tango feels a little bit of a twist, somewhere in the gears of his chest. Maybe everyone should just call him Tango. It felt a lot better, somehow. It felt earned.

“I try to be,” Tango says, waving his hand again. “I’m built for continuous learning—neuroplasticity. It’s what I’m meant to do…kind of.”

“Interesting…” Jimmy hooks a right at a fork. Tango notes it. “I don’t think I’ve met an android without a base program. And it was HASA who decided that?”

Tango nods.

“That was the plan, anyway. So far, it’s worked out alright. I have no issues, our technicians make sure I’m running smoothly, I can run my own diagnostics as far as I’m aware. And…I get to take back knowledge to our ship,” he sticks his free hand back in his pocket. They take a left, following the curving wall. “That’s a win to me.”

“That does sound nice,” Jimmy says, frowning a little, mostly in his voice than on his face.  As the wall evens out, Jimmy slows to a stop. Before them, on the leftmost side, are a row of doors, which Tango recognizes. He marks down their exact location, how the wall hugs the left, looping back around on the far side. Jimmy splays his arm out, gesturing to the doors. Tango manages a smile.

“Thank you,” Tango says, nodding. Jimmy hums.

“Of course, glad I could help,” he says. He looks pleased, now, none of the nervous flit that he had when they’d first met. Tango, too. He feels settled, somehow, like he was already beginning to understand the space around him, already acclimated to new gravity and new routine. Jimmy’s easy smile and tone of voice made that all the easier to do.

As Tango steps away, toward his door, he turns back to Jimmy, who’s folded his arms over his chest. Something’s there, in Tango’s chest, maybe just a trick of mechanics, something he can’t really place. It smooths out any bumps in logic programming. It makes things even, whatever the thing in his chest is. Jimmy makes a noise, and Tango’s eyes flick up to his face.

“Y’know—not to jump ahead or anything, since I know we’ve just met. But if you wanted to, my cabin is a bit closer to the lab. If you ever feel like you want a roommate, you’re more than welcome to stay there,” Jimmy starts, clasping his hands together. The small smile on his face hasn’t really faded, and his voice is even with curiosity. “There’s—there’s only one bed, but you said you don’t sleep. So it should be fine.”

Jimmy continues to babble, now, eyes flicking down to the patches at Tango’s knees. 

“I can always request you to the room next to it—I think that one’s unoccupied, too. If you ever want to sleep, that is. But you can let me know. Figured it might be nice to have a roommate so you’re not lonely,” he finishes, shrugging a little. Then he startles, blinks, and waves his hands. “Unless you like being alone.”

Tango tries to make a sound to dissuade him from that idea, but it gets caught in his programming and his vocal filter and it kind of sounds like a wheeze, or maybe a laugh, but he shakes his head several times, copying Jimmy’s easy smile from before.

“No, no…” he assures. “That sounds really nice, actually. I’ll…I’ll let Fwhip know that I’d like to do that.”

Jimmy visibly relaxes, and the smile comes back to his face, and he laughs a little, an actual, natural laugh.

“Sure thing…” Jimmy scrunches his nose. “Roomie.”

Tango feels something flip-flop over as he jumps, shaking his head again.

“Don’t call me that—” he manages, before Jimmy waves his hands again and says:

“I’m just joking, Tango!” and reaches out to clasp his shoulder. That rush of static only prickles for a moment, leaving a warm sensation in its wake. Tango feels it trickle down his elbow and to his wrist as Jimmy steps away from him. “Have a good night, alright? I’ll see you at 0700.”

Tango nods, realizing he’s still smiling just a bit, even as he steps into his room and the door slides shut behind him. He stands at the threshold, with his back to the wall, for a long moment, letting the memories play in his head as he does. The quiet hum of his room and the orange-yellow lighting soothes his otherwise spinning mind to a controlled simulation. Even still, Tango’s hand and arm prickle faintly with sensation he can’t place, and a warmth in his chest he’s not sure he fully understands.

Pulling away from the door and into his room, Tango furrows his eyebrows and starts an internal diagnostic.

[mcytblrconfessions-but-badder]

https://www.tumblr.com/mcytblrconfessions-but-badder/781765366266363904/anons-what-are-your-red-flags-in-mcyt-fanfiction

I got some.

Using characters as only the toxic ex to uplift another ship. I hate that some ranchers fic punch Scott down so they can make tango and Jimmy look better, it’s sketchy and it hurts cause I love the three. I’ve seen people do that for past-Scarian and past-fwhimmy as well. Sometimes it can be done well but when I see past-blank tagged, red flags go off.

Chat fics in general. Red flag in the sense that it’ll be highly ooc, especially if it’s writing adults to be modern day teenagers. Bdubs would say slay because he purposely does that to annoy and confuse his audience, Etho would not. But yet again, chat fics don’t take themselves seriously so it’s not a complete red flag.

Sibling headcanons but they switch the ages around. I could get behind twins wilbur and techno, but not techno being the eldest. It’s already a red flag to me when people write life series evo players to be siblings without writint BigB to be a brother, but to make Jimmy the youngest by a few years when him and pearl irl are only a month apart in age? Red flag. Making Grian the oldest when Martyn and BigB are the oldest by a few years? Red flag.

Any au that isn’t on the hermitcraft server that centres around life series players (jimmy, Scott, BigB, Lizzie and Martyn) being tagged as hermitcraft smp in the fandom tag on ao3. I don’t remember Scott being a hermit? Why is it tagged as hermitcraft?

Empires fics where some empires are considered “bad” because they’re poor like Jimmy or Shubble’s empires.

Any bad!dad philza fics where Phil doesn’t make an appearance and is only mentioned to be a bad dad. I dunno but it gives me red flags.

Any Yuri ship being tagged but it’s a background ship. I love puffychu like the next guy but don’t put them in the relationship tags if it’s just a one off mention or they only have a few lines/scenes.

.

[sapphicsamizayn]

makes it all more emotional when Sami snaps back to reality BECAUSE HE ACCIDENTALLY HURTS JEY! The person who he vowed to protect only to hurt him instead.

He finally realizes all the pain he cost.

okay fuck it i need to write this moment it's lived in my head so long

little baby drabble under the tag, yandere sami and samijey angst

The shot had been perfectly set up. Jimmy, moments ago appearing lifeless, staggering himself up into the corner, no choice but to place himself directly in Sami's line of fire. Months of rage boiled through his stomach up to his chest and then throat, rage at Jimmy for coveting Jey's championship belt, rage at Roman for requesting a title match, rage at Gunther for every strike to his precious love's face even with Jey coming out victorious in the end. Perhaps most of all, rage at Jimmy for questioning Sami's devotion to Jey, questioning him for being the only one to actually protect Jey - something his so called brother continued to fail at.

"You're crossing too many lines, uce. Are you thinking about Jey at all? What he wants?"

No, Sami didn't think about what Jey wanted - he thought about something more important, that Jimmy couldn't fathom. What Jey needed.

And in this moment, what Jey needed was someone to get rid of the Jimmy Uso problem.

With all his momentum charged up, Sami threw himself forward, unable to stop when a flash of a painfully familiar form threw itself in front of the weakened man, angry brown eyes staring into him.

"Sami, stop!"

It was already too late.

The crowd roared and gasped, but the only thing Sami could hear was a gut-wrenching cracking sound as his boot made contact with Jey's jaw. Like a light switch flipped down, Jey's expression immediately dimmed as he slumped forward, unconscious. Sami couldn't even recoil fast enough to catch Jey before he landed face first onto the ring.

Jimmy stared into Sami as he panted, and Sami - who had grown so accustomed to being tuned into those subtle features that differentiated the twins - could only see his love's doppelganger looking back at him.

The fiery rage froze over, the magma in his veins ready to flow over solidifying into rock that weight him down as he collapsed onto his knees and cautiously nudged his partner's shoulder.

"Jey? Jey, why did you..."

It was a useless question to ask. After all, Sami knew Jey like the back of his hand. If there was anyone that he would protect, it was Jimmy. How many times had he let Roman step all over him, beat him to the point of exhaustion and beyond, only to give in to protect Jimmy?

How far had Sami gone that Jey felt he had to protect Jimmy from him?

This wasn't the kind of thing Sami Zayn would do. This was the kind of thing the Tribal Chief would do.

In his frigid state, Sami felt wet heat threatening at his eyes as he pulled his hand away from Jey.

[saintmagx]

I Knew you were Trouble ❤️‍🔥

In which y/n joins the WWE as a female competitor and is thrown into the crazy world of the Usos. Friendship, love , betrayal and mutual pining awaits.

AN: Literally making this for myself, might publish more of it, might not - enjoy I guess? 😳😂

in this reality, Trinity is still with WWE

Pairing: Jimmy uso x reader, Jey uso x reader (platonic)

w/c: 766

⚠️ Warnings: 18+ , swearing, violence (this is the WWE after all) slight smut, infidelity, jealous Jimmy, bad writing, cringe story telling, the Usos (because they are a warning in themselves) ⚠️

I was in your sights, you got me alone, you found me❤️‍🔥

“And the challenger, being accompanied by the Usos, from y/h/t, y/r/n”

I was on top of the world. My life couldn’t be much better. I had my boys walking me down to the ring to face off against Charlotte for the Woman’s championship. I had been busting my ass for the past 8 months and finally earned my shot at the title. Nothing could ruin this moment for me - right?

“What the - ”

THUD

Then there was darkness.

Ok, so we may be getting a little bit ahead of ourselves, let’s take it back to 8 months ago, when it was your first day on Smackdown.

8 months ago

I was finally getting my opportunity after years of busting my ass in the independent circuit. I guess you could say I had made a name for myself and the WWE just had to have me.

Tonight I was making my debut on Smackdown, I was teaming up with Naomi to face off against Carmella and Mandy Rose. Carmella and Mandy where the current Woman’s tag team champions and Naomi had been teaming with Natalya - however she had been injured and I was asked to step in. This match could make or break me - I HAD to impress.

Standing backstage doing my pre-match stretched I’m broken from my trance

“Hey girl, I’m honestly so excited to be partnering with you tonight”

“Trinity hey, honestly same - though I’m a little disappointed we have to lose the match.”

“Yeah it bummed me out abit too at first, but all we have to do is put on one hell of a show”

“Good luck tonight baby” my eyes switch from Trinity to the handsome as hell man who approached her. His smile was infections, enough to make me weak at the knees. Wait…..baby?

“Y/n, this is my husband Jon, Jon this is y/n”

As if time stopped, his attention was on me, I could feel his eyes bore into me, slowly dragging up my body, my cheeks HAD to be red, oh god please don’t let anyone notice. Jon smirked at me - safe to say he noticed.

“Pleasure to meet you y/n”

Before I could reply, another equally as handsome man joined his side.

“Josh, this is y/n, y/n this is Josh, Jon's brother” Trinity said as she was stretching out for our match.

“I’m the handsome brother” Josh says, with a wink

“You do remember we are twins right?” Jon retorts

“Obviously uce, but I’m still the better looking brother”

Josh stood there with a shit eating grin plastered on his face. He had ruffled his brothers feathers once more and he was proud of himself.

These boy are going to be trouble.

• ❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃•

Our match was set up for us to lose, but we put on one hell of a show - main event material. Back at the gorilla Hunter were there to chat with me after my debut.

“Think of the bigger picture y/n” Hunter says

“You can’t always win. Remember when you go through that curtain you are telling a story, selling it with you matches and promos. Anyway, this sets it up perfectly for you guys to go for the titles”

“What?” I look up at him in disbelief

“The titles?”

“Y/n your hard work and determination shows off. The tag titles is a fantastic opportunity to kick start your time here.”

Not really sure what came over me but next thing I knew I had my arms wrapped around hunter squeezing him tight.

“You have no idea how much this means to me, thank you, thank you, thank you - I won’t let you down”

“You deserve it kid, now go show everyone what you are made of”

Leaving the gorilla my eyes glance to Trinity and the boys walking towards catering.

“TRIN DID YOU HEAR” I scream, jumping her from behind.

“HUNTER IS GIVING US THE TAG TITLES”

“What?”

A twinge of jealousy spreads across me as I watch Jon dip his head down and place a kiss on Trinity's forehead - wait, I shouldn’t even be feeling like this - I give myself a shake and turn my attention to Josh.

“We have to celebrate”

“Josh, we haven’t actually won the titles yet, let’s save the celebrations till then huh?” I laugh

“Wait that’s a great idea, let’s do drinks, come on y/n let’s go get ready” Trin says as she drags me off.

Guess we are celebrating tonight.

If I’d have know how the night would turn out, I’d have headed straight back to the hotel.

[mxlti-fand0m-imaginess]

🧡 - blurb: give me a character and a topic/situation and i’ll write a blurb about it!

Hello :) thoughts on fem reader comforting Maggie Esmeralda (after Jimmy flipped a switch and started drinking), and then they run away together, because i just think she deserved better 😔

“look, i know you really liked him. but… you can do so much better than him. and so much better than this place,” you said, leaning your head against maggie’s shoulder, your hand slowly inching closer to hers.

“maybe you’re right… but still, where would i even go? i don’t have a home, i don’t have anyone.”

“that’s not true, maggie. you have me. i’ll follow you wherever you go,” you smiled softly, your pinky finger intertwining with hers.

maggie looked down at your hand and smiled to herself. turning to look back at you, she saw the earnest look in your eyes. you truly meant what you said, you’d follow her anywhere. and just knowing that meant more to her than you would ever know.

maggie’s smile grew, her hand moving to hold your hand in hers. “so let’s go. just you and me. i don’t care where we end up. as long as we’re together, i’ll always have a home.”

tags: @jamespotterslover @tates-radio @hallecarey1 @madisonsslave @evilcr0ne @hockstterrs @milly-louise @larawrrites

[narcolini]

On Your Mind

javi x gn!reader, sort of hurt sort of comfort, 866 words for day 3 of narcoctober: song prompt, there is something on your mind - big jay mcneely a/n: i can't believe this is my first time writing javi and i cant believe its something like this and not a 30k friends to lovers kjfhg tagging: @narcosfandomdiscord @garbinge @drabbles-mc @hausofmamadas @cositapreciosa

He’s home before you are, though you never gave him a key. The lady downstairs is kind and stupid enough to let anyone into the foyer, as long as they ask politely, and you’re kind and stupid enough to have told him exactly how the lock jimmies open, if you get it just right. So here he is now, un-expectantly expectant of you. 

‘I should look into getting an alarm system,’ you say, shutting the door behind, and pouring the day from your shoulders to your feet. 

‘Maybe.’

‘Are you here for long?

He shrugs. ‘Maybe. I don’t know.’

You pause where you are and look at him. He’s leaning against the table, which stands against the cabinet by the bed, because you’re yet to buy any dining chairs, and he’s yet to find a way to be comfortable here, as often as he comes, which makes you both look like strangers, really. Neither of you have settled. It’s more of an introduction on neutral ground than anything else.

He’s got his arms crossed. Bare forearms, rolled sleeves. He looks from you, to the floor, to the half-drawn curtain over your window. Nobody’s bothered to turn the overhead light on, so he’s orange, and you’re blue. 

‘Bad day?’ you ask.

‘No worse than the rest.’

You try a smile, pull that card from your deck. ‘Something a whiskey might solve?’

‘Look.’ He sighs and draws his gaze back to you. ‘We should talk.’

The lamp on the bedside flickers. He waits until the amber glow is steady again, and then he nods, like you’ve asked something, and his brows pull together like he’s apologising for it. 

‘Can I take my shoes off first?’

‘It won’t—’

‘Please.’

You get another nod, and a raised hand to wave you on, before it’s tucked back under his forearm again. Crossed and waiting. 

The lace of your boot has become knotted, so it takes a pregnant minute for you to get it off, leather fighting the curve of your heel, then it drops to the ground with a thud. 

The second comes off easy and quiet. 

‘You want a drink?’ you ask, sock-footed and able to move again. You cross the room before the offer’s been answered, hand on the fridge before drink has even tilted up into a question. 

‘It won’t take,’ he tries again, ‘I shouldn’t stay.’

‘That’s what you say every time.’

‘This is different.’

You take two beers from the case on the shelf. White light there and gone again. 

‘You’re different?’ you guess.

He lets the quiet have its turn before answering. ‘I’ve been thinking.’

‘Yeah, I noticed last time.’ You could tell he wanted to talk then, too, but he’d been too scared, or too happy, or too greedy, to want to tell you so. ‘You don’t fuck the same when you’re thinking about something.’

There’s a laugh that you reward with one of the beers, handing it to him as you reach his side of the studio. 

‘And you’re just telling me this now?’ he says. 

‘I could hardly tell you then.’

He snorts and you match it, smiling, before dropping onto the side of the bed. From here his cheek is gold, his hair is gold, and the rest of him is grey, muted by the moonlight through what’s left of the window. 

‘Please sit,’ you say, and when he doesn’t move you add, ‘it won’t hurt less from the table.’

‘I was trying to give you space,’ he admits, standing as he does. Arms slack, knees straight. He walks two steps then dips the bed as he goes down beside you, shoulder to shoulder.

You switch the lamp off. No more orange, just blue.

He starts before you’ve even tasted the beer, which sits damp between your palms. 

‘I don’t think,’ he says, ‘we can keep doing-’

‘Wait.’

‘-this.’ His eyebrows trick his eyes into looking soft. Or tired. 'Baby,’ he reasons.

‘You’ll have to give that up,’ you reply. ‘Baby.’

You imagine his palm on your thigh and his thumb running the outer seam. Replace it directly with the sight of his fingers now, threaded together, and balanced in the gap between his knees.

‘In the morning,’ you offer him. ‘Let’s save it for then, okay?’

He exhales and looks away before the last of it can hit your face. ‘It wouldn’t be fair.’

‘To who?’ You’re smiling somehow. ‘I’m the one suggesting it.’

‘We can’t just keep on—’

‘Don’t say it,’ you interrupt again, because you know already. ‘Don’t tell me until the morning, Javi.’

‘How is that any better?’ he asks. ‘For either of us?’

‘How is it any worse?’

You’re both orange, and you’re both blue, and you’ve known the colour of him since the beginning, really. Since you first told him how to get the lock just right. There’s nothing here that you hadn’t seen coming, and nothing left to say, either. 

‘One more night?’ you ask, for a final hopeless time. ‘Don’t tell me now.’

You watch his throat as he swallows the request, his lips as he nods in reply. ‘Alright,’ he says, ‘until the morning.’ 

And then there’s his hand. There’s your thigh. 

______

[curlyfriesgalore]

curly can't sing.

as the title says, it's a headcanon i randomly had when playing my mouthwashing sims 4 household (lol), where swansea and curly went karaoke-ing at 'waterside warble' in san myshuno. curly sang horrendously since he just gained the skill. though, it made me think, how funny would it be if curly genuinely couldn't sing for shit?

it's the one thing jimmy has leverage over (he's no better, really), and curly is painfully aware of his tone-deafness, so he never reveals it unless it's for a special occasion... with an extra special someone there to watch him perform (miserably).

that being said, daisuke suggested the crew do something fun to celebrate the completion of their shipment, so why not do some karaoke?

★ a sfw one-shot broken down into bullets with chat-format segments for dialogue. fair warning, there are a few suggestive moments, but the implications aren't overt. [2,817 words]

☆ gen tags: set in 2005. gn! reader who is a doctor and a great singer. none of the game's events happen, so they're just a bunch of folks doing regular space deliveries, but jimmy is still an unpleasant ass that gets on the reader's nerves. reader and curly are crushing on each other (they're on the brink of knowing it's reciprocal). manfailure curly but he's trying his best... whatever that best is (lmfao, accurate to canon 😭). curly -> grant (name switch at some point in the fic). there's one moment where curly and reader share a glass, so just letting you know in case you're not a fan of that :)

[i'm still on break, but i wanted to write something more concise and improvised in under a day! and i won't lie, i find fics including everyone to be so fun to write. i really love testing out my characterizations of the crew and have them interact in relaxed scenarios. art by kafukafukadayo on twt. —iris🌠]

while you bask in the dim hues of red lights, the instrumental of an electropop softens into silence as it tandems with your pants. when you peel your eyes open, everyone's gaping their mouths and raising their brows—even jimmy, ever the unimpressed, is surprisingly taken aback, and you're taken aback by that alone.

daisuke springs from the leather sofa. he bounds towards you, grips both your shoulders, and shakes you senselessly, his hand still somehow clutching his open flip phone.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"doc, that... was... INSANE!" he jostles your body back and forth between his pauses, swaying you with all his might as he nearly forces the microphone to drop out your hand. daisuke swishes his head, finally letting you go, "wh—buh?! how do you—are you imogen heap reincarnated?!"

anya snorts, sounding like a stuffed trumpet. "dai, imogen's alive! she's only 27." swansea follows suit, his deep chuckle rumbling through his belly, crossed arms resting atop. "pfft, that's far from dead."

daisuke rolls his eyes away from the two, "tch, you get what i mean! like, look—!" he speedily dials the buttons on his phone, opening his gallery and brandishing a pixelated clip of you singing along to the mbira melody and string bass beats, the crunchy electronic syncs with your ethereal mezzo-soprano. daisuke snaps the phone shut with his palm, raising his free hand in surrender. "if that's not the lead singer of frou frou, then i don't know who is." he takes the remote, looking through what next to sing.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

amid the nurse, mechanic, and intern belting their lungs out to "hey ya!" curly sits, and you stand before him. his ocean eyes swim in awe as he cranes his neck to face you. you're glowing. your head perfectly aligns right in front of the carmine light; its luminescence filters around your shadowed outline, like you were some angel graced from above with an even more angelic voice to come with. it was sort of comical how the largest man in the room felt so small beneath your presence.

there's a dew of sweat hanging below your bottom lip, and curly can't help but bite his. that is until he slips his teeth back in when you cushion yourself onto the couch, spreading your legs wide with an arm lounging on the headrest behind him. curly huffed a laugh and leaned into the shiny sofa, letting his scalp fall onto your forearm.

even with your tongue tucked inside your parted lips, curly could practically see your papillae beg for freshness. he smiles, momentarily stretching his back away from the couch to grab your drink and hands it to you. a raspy thanks escape your parched throat.

your neck bobs with every gulp, drinking like it's the last you'll ever taste water. curly tries his hardest not to let his gaze linger longer than it should, but the way your head tilts back and your hand grips the glass, he can't help but swallow some of that imaginary water himself.

a contented sigh leaves you. you flick your eyes to him and just about see the last of his adam's apple slurp up nothing. you gesture the drink, asking if he wants it. curly is briefly hesitant until he turns to see his empty cup and shrugs, "sure, why not?"

as curly takes his sip, he notices the beaded sweat shining on your lip more notably than before. his brows raise ever so subtly, ruminating his next moves. when you still fail to realize the wetness glistening at your mouth's rim, he pulls the drink away from himself.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"hey, can i...?"

your eyes widen softly as you watch his thumb inch toward your jaw. you flick your view down, puffing out your lower lip to see a dab of sweat cling onto you for dear life. you look back at him and nod. curly gently takes a hold of your chin, thumbing the sudor away while his remaining fingers brush against your neck. you take in the moment, eyes half-lidded and lips ever so parted. he wasn't glancing at you, but you could tell he wanted to, for his warm breath quiets the longer you study him—noticing the way his tongue peeks out his mouth or how his golden greying hair falls over the wrinkles etched into his temple. "you know," moments before he drops his hand, he finally manages to look you in the eye, your faces merely inches apart. "your performance really gave me chills." you smirked, "is that why you didn't speak up?" your tease brought curly to a laugh, the bass in his voice strong. "i can't help but be mesmerized when that's how you sing, doc."

you hummed a titter, nodding to yourself as you thanked him with a delicate smile. "you can drop the formalities, grant. we're at a karaoke bar, not the tulpar."

whether or not you noticed the hitch in his breath, grant softened upon hearing his first name, oftentimes forgetting that's who he actually is. his head tilts down, blithely sighing before picking himself up to show you his grin, "okay, okay..." he momentarily chuckles, now resting his elbow on the headrest, propping it up, and leaning onto his knuckles next to your arm still lying there. "well, my point still stands. you have an incredibly captivating voice, y/n." "oh, stop it...!" you both become a blushing, giggling mess. your other hand finds its way to rest on your knee, which sits right against grant's. as you speak about your singing history, grant brings his free palm to his thigh, pretending to unintentionally graze his calloused fingers against your nails. he listens intently to how you'd belt out your favorite songs on repeat, albeit the sound of daisuke and anya screaming, "HEEEY YAAA!" and the tidbits of exhaustion lingering in his mind make your words muffle into incoherent jargon.

"but enough about me, i wanna hear you." you catch his eyes snapping away from both his and your legs smushing together, hoping you don't notice the blankness in his brain. "or are you just charming me to stall your big reveal, hm?"

grant's jaw falls, and utterances of filler words filter out his mouth, but before he can respond, daisuke catches wind of their conversation as outkast's song dies down in the background.

"oh, yeah!" daisuke takes a swig of his soda. after a sigh of satisfaction and couple of lip smacks, daisuke leaps from his end of the couch and motions to the two, microphone in hand. "it's your turn to solo, captain!"

"uhh, i don't know if i should..." grant sheepishly waves the mic away, his eyes shifting between everyone's expressions. daisuke is pouting and pleading with puppy eyes. anya just gives him a thumbs-up and a classic comforting smile. swansea is indifferent. jimmy, who's been leaning against the palm tree printed wall for the past four songs, beer in hand, grows an all-too-familiar smirk. then there's you, expectantly looking at him with overlaid eyes he wishes to see in a different setting... that of his bedroom—

"aww, why not, curl? we've done our parts. 's only fair you do yours, too." jimmy's tone was far from welcoming, sounding more like a jab than anything. you narrowed your sights at him, "didn't you only sing in the group ones?" jimmy shrugs. "look," after taking another chug of his can, raising his hands in defeat. "my karaoke quota's been filled. sorry." you simply roll your eyes. before the tension thickens, daisuke interjects, "ah, don't worry, cap. i bet your voice sounds super cool, like superhero cool! you've got that gruffness that swan's got... but y'know... less croaky n' stuff!" "'scuze me?" swansea lifts a single brow, anya stifles a laugh, and daisuke flails his hands in defense, "eh- i mean it as a compliment! you've got a sick voice, swansea." "emphasis on sick..." anya cheekily comments under her breath, and for the first time in forever, swansea's jaw drops. he coughs out a laugh that's been lodged in his throat for god knows how long and shakes his head, pointing his thumb at the giggling woman. "wowww, aren't you, the nurse, supposed to be fixing that?" anya nods to you, "only under doctor's orders." the two have a back and forth, but daisuke still stands in front of grant, intent on lending the mic to the man.

"i—okay..." grant crumbles under the pressure, caving in when you whisper a couple of encouragements. daisuke cheers, anya claps, swansea bobs his head in support, jimmy fakes a whoop, and you—genuinely—hype him up with a holler.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

grant purses his lip as he presses the buttons on the remote while daisuke guides him through the songs on the screen.

jimmy leaves his spot, his boot denting a scuff mark on the wallpaper. your nose flares, watching him carelessly toss the can into the bin as he makes his way to sandwich you between him and swansea, purposefully maximizing the width of how far he can stretch his legs.

you ignore him, opting to watch someone much cuter. grant turns to you, awkwardly smiling as you return a thumbs-up. he focuses back on daisuke, who's now raving over a song he definitely thinks grant should sing.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"you know he's shit, right?" your brows contort into a furrow, still not looking at the man. "the fuck you mean?" you never had much patience for jimmy, of all people, so your courtesies never fail to fall short with him. "you know who i mean—him." jimmy gestures to grant, pointer finger flicking at the blond. "no shit, sherlock. i'm saying, what are you specifically referring to?" "obviously, his voice, sherlock." he drawls the two syllables, the stench of yeast and malt oozing out of his mouth and into your unfortunate nose. "he'll make your ears bleed, trust me." finally, you face him and stare at jimmy's smugness with an incredulous squint. seriously, how the fuck does grant put up with him? you couldn't even stand the guy's presence, let alone his incessant insults on grant himself. "do you do anything but complain?" you sneer. "nope." jimmy curtly replies, mouthing a pop after the 'p' as he claws a hand over the chips bowl, stuffing his face with grease. at this point, you weren't sure if you should stay annoyed or be slightly impressed with his sheer ability to find the worst in everything. "some fucking friend..." you say to yourself, already past the point of defeat. with his mouth still full of food, jimmy responds, "hey, as his friend, i'm actively warning you. i've known this guy long enough to be there for his first choir class." "whatever, we'll see." you huffed, relaxing on the couch, sitting much closer to swansea than the other. "it's not like you've got much credibility, anyway." you think back to moments ago, whenever it was jimmy's turn to sing his parts, his half-assed attempts barely constitutes as a grumble. jimmy snickers, "who says i'm denying that? just 'cause i don't care doesn't mean i'm wrong."

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

you have never been more relieved to hear a soft pop interlude, forcing the conversation to a close.

daisuke flops onto the sofa next to anya and flips open his phone, pressing record as the tv flashes the music video to "shape of my heart." you lean behind swansea and lock eyes with daisuke, who abashedly giggles when you mouth, 'you chose this, didn't you?' to which he nods excitedly.

ah, daisuke, ever the avid backstreet boys fanatic.

your eyes fall back to grant. the man fidgets with his microphone, and his shoe frantically taps to the beat, pursing his lips into a tight smile in hopes it will clench down the shivers rising with the guitar strums. you silently cheer him on when he starts humming, following the yellow highlight filling up the white text reading ♪ yeah, yeah ♪, and—

oh!

...oh

oh, god.

jimmy... wasn't wrong, far from it, actually—as much as it pains you to admit.

the very moment grant hits that ♪ baby ♪, it's all downhill from here. it's as if his pitch took a trip to six flags. his questionably paced breaths mimic a ride with an unnecessary amount of loop-the-loops, and his tone flip-flops between a coarse rasp and an oddly airy twang, like a reverse bungee slingshotting into the air.

grant's eyes squeeze shut, facing away from the crew. either he was incredibly invested or excruciatingly embarrassed, and with how he was really getting into that chorus, nobody could tell. he only ever peeks to look at you, though, clearly awaiting your approval, to whom you always beam, your face mixed in pity and affection.

as much as he sounded like a crow was clawing its way out of his esophagus, you couldn't help but find his attempts to be really wholesome. maybe it's your pre-existing bias, and maybe it's because this feels like he's serenading every line at you, but it's hard not to fall for this vocal failure of a man—even though everyone else's expressions say otherwise.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"told you so," jimmy taunts in your ear, sickeningly chuckling at grant without hesitation. "woo! curly, you go, dude!" he cheers, voice dipped in mockery. all you do is click your tongue and face the others, choosing to listen in on anya and swansea. "you sure i'm the one that's 'sick'?" swansea jokes, albeit laced with genuine disgust. he leans to you, whispering the same revulsion, "you both need to rethink your careers."

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

anya simply grimaces, trying her hardest to make it look like a grin, but her knit brows and frown give way.

daisuke's eyes say everything. they're wide, and his pupils constrict like he's a cartoon. his hand hesitantly grips onto his flip phone, unsure if he should keep the camera going. as his leg rapidly bounces and his teeth bite down on his paint-chipped nails, his gaze slowly turns away from grant's caterwauling and towards the rest of the crew.

moreover, you're just as guilty. although you're not irked by this newfound fact, a wince washes over you the moment you are out of grant's sights.

suddenly, after the first chorus, the song reveals a blue highlight painting the white text. grant falters, his voice shrinking when he sees the two primary colors play different lyrics simultaneously. everyone takes notice, their faces easing from cringe to confusion. then it clicks.

this was a duet.

daisuke palms his face with a slap—that's his bad. you skim the room, and everyone's exchanging glances, implicitly questioning who'll aid their poor captain.

without hesitation, you jump to the rescue. snatching a mic from the coffee table and quickly singing your parts, striding your way towards grant, who immediately picks up where he's left off, still shrill as ever.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

♪ i'M hEre WIDTH myYy...! confEh shion ♪, in a sheer attempt at confidence, grant belts his lyrics. his dimples dig into his smile, sending you the much-needed energy to sing your lines. ♪ got nothing to hide no more ♪. you sway your head in accordance with the melody, ball up your fist, and let your fingers spread far and wide, wiping the air as you and grant's steps magnetize toward each other. ♪ i don't kNOw whe...rE to st-art ♪; warbling his words, grant's gaze softens when you're within arms reach. he lowers his neck, brings the mic close to his lips, and grazes your forearm, wishing he could feel the flush skin of your waist and reel you in. ♪ but to show you... ♪, as both lyrics meld into one, you take his hand into yours. ♪...the shA-pe of mY hEart ♪

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

daisuke bursts into song, singing the first line of the last verse, startling everyone in the process. anya joins in, now standing with daisuke as both pull swansea to his feet. the mechanic begrudgingly croons along to his intern's baritone and his nurse's soprano.

daisuke beckons for jimmy to come with him, but in classic jimmy zare fashion, he remains stagnant. the younger man frowns. though, he quickly reminds himself that there are only five members in BSB, anyway. so daisuke hands jimmy his phone instead, telling the co-pilot to make sure that everyone's in frame.

they've turned this into a concert for a one-man audience, who's hating every second of it.

save for jimmy, currently grousing under his breath, the crew wraps their arms around each other's shoulders and chants their hearts out to the R&B melody.

as the track nears its final moments, you and grant rest your hands on each other's waists, pulling your bodies close as your head leans on his pec. neither of you realizes that you've left the other three, who are all too busy rocking side to side to notice the two of you in a side embrace, minds too carried away to feel jimmy's prickly leer.

[oh my god, i genuinely didn't even intend for this ending, but here we are 🥹! i hope you guys liked this, and if anyone has comments on how i wrote everyone's dialogue and mannerisms, like what worked, or if you have suggestions for any additions, please let me know! i still need to learn more about writing anya, since in canon, it's hard to get a read of her real personality through jimmy's lens. still, so far, i like to think she enjoys teasing people she's comfortable with. as for swansea, i'm trying to lean into his meanness more, but i'm saving most of that for a daisuke fic centered on swansea's pov, so we'll see what i do when i get there! —iris🌠]

[astrylx]

Supernatural S.5 Ep.1 - Sympathy for the Devil - Liveblog

I've decided I quite like this all in one post format for liveblogging, especially since it clogs down my dashboard less and it's probably less annoying to people going through the Supernatural tag when they don't have to see multiple of my posts.

Before I get into my actual liveblogging, I want to just discuss Supernatural. I am nearing the end of my initial journey, as my plan is to focus on up to season 5. I will probably end up finishing the whole show, just not with the same level of care or enthusiasm, or critical thinking as I have approached the rest of the show. I have been recommended by people that if I'm doing a first watch, I should finish the show though.

I've been quite enjoying Supernatural so far. I could poke at flaws I've had with the show, because they definitely exist, but I don't feel a need or a want to. So far, the show is mostly solid. Yes, it's full of typical CW-ness, but as I've watched CW shows before, it's easy to ignore. For someone who has always had a fondness for paranormal and reads religious philosophy and theological textbooks for fun, this show has been good at feeding into my type of nerdiness. There are moments where I will sit there watching the show like "Yeaaaaa that's not right," but there are also moments where I can go on a rant about how intrigued I am by directorial and writing choices from a mythological or theological perspective. It's nice. As much as I enjoy lore aspects of the show, I do always come back to Dean and Sam. The scenes that shine the most are the scenes that focus on their relationship as brothers. It's so impactful to see, and I adore it. There are a lot of times I see my relationship with my own sister through them in ways not many pieces of media I've seen have been able to capture. I'm really hoping that continues throughout the show.

I could say more, but then this would feel more like a Supernatural review and not a liveblog so!

Liveblog Starting HERE! -----------

I like that how instead of a time skip, we are opening directly where we left off in the S.4 season finale, with Lucifer exiting the gate. I love the framing of the light bursting through the church doors as Sam and Dean try to escape.

Oh I absolutely love the switch to the Looney Tunes cartoon with the devil, it reminds me a lot of analogue horror techniques! How did Sam and Dean get on a plane though? They got transported to a plane above where they were?

Them switching through the news stations all giving bad news reminds me a lot of how it feels like to check the news today. I can't tell if Dean is upset with Sam or not. I don't like that I can't tell.

Oh no. The house is covered in wreckage and blood. Cas and the Archangel fought. I'm assuming Cas is in a lot of trouble. If he's alive he's injured, and I wouldn't be shocked if Heaven is punishing him.

I love a good Chuck jumpscare!

Cas exploded? I mean I know he's not dead but like- And that means Jimmy is gone too, doesn't it? That makes me very sad. RIP Jimmy you deserved so much better than you got. You didn't even want to continue being a part of this, you only did it so that your daughter wouldn't have to.

I hate Zachariah, he makes me so uncomfortable. Also don't wink at Sam, don't call him Sammy, no don't DO that. I will slap you. Didn't you daddy raise you better? (I know the answer is no)

Dean is bleeding? Oh he uh- made the- thing I don't know the word for that Anna and Cas did. He called Cas his friend... My heart. :(

Dean saying "say this is any other hunt." The thing is, though, it isn't. It's different on so many levels. And, not to be an asshole, but y'all caused it. Dean started it with the first seal breaking and Sam ended it with the last. Yes I get why to get their head in the game they have to treat it like a regular hunt, but I fear if they do they're not going to be fully prepared.

This dude in the bed is gonna be the vessel, yes no? I thought it was supposed to be Sam but I guess I was wrong. I don't like being wrong.

OH GOOD LORD NO- NOT SOMEONE WRITING WINCEST FANFICTION! I AM! UNCOMFORTABLE! Supernatural show writers it only gets worse when you acknowledge it stop acknowledging it for my sake this is the second time in like 5 episodes. SAMLICKER??? WHAT?? MORETHANBROTHERS.NET??? I'm choking rn. Genuinely, I starting coughing. The way she's pressing her hand to his chest I am uncomfortable. "And you're- not what I pictured-" icanticanticanticant.

THE MICHAEL SWORD?? OH NOW THIS IS GETTING GOOD- I have a feeling Michael will be connected to the Winchesters in some way further because 1) the sword they're supposed to get and 2) Michael's connection with Jacob, Isaac, and Moses. I already know he will be important in general to the lore of the show because of his role in theology.

BOBBY!! I'm actually a Bobby Superfan.

Sam blaming himself for everything. I just want to hug him. I wish I could tell him he was wrong, but I really can't. Bobby's reaction- I was not expecting that I was not expecting that. The way he moves from standing higher than Sam to on his level and in his face. The look in his eyes. The words he's saying. "I want you to lose my number" I hope you don't mean that Bobby, I really hope so.

I am once again seeing parallels with John. The rebuking of the father figure directed at Sam as Dean stands there and watches. Not that I'm blaming Dean or anything, just pointing out what I see.

See, more reasoning that I've been seeing a deeper connection with the Winchester family and the demons. John had the sword? I mean that's fucking insane but I'm also not surprised at all if you catch my drift.

BOBBY IS POSESSED? I WAS NOT EXPECTING THAT BUT IT MAKES SENSE! NORMAL BOBBY WOULD NEVER HAVE TREATED SAM LIKE THAT!

MEG! IT'S MEG! I LOVE MEG! I MISSED HER SO MUCH! MY NUMBER 1, I WAS HOPING FOR YOUR RETURN!

I feel like we completely brush over how much Dean is basically assaulted in this show. Meg just now kissing him is far, far from the first time. I don't see anyone talk about it, and I really think it deserves to be mentioned.

Bobby fighting the demon off- I love him- I think he's going to die though.

HE KILLED HIMSELF- HE SACRIFICED HIMSELF SO HE WOULDN'T KILL DEAN.

Bobby already knows what it is like to kill someone because of a demon. He killed his wife. He views Sam and Dean like his children. He can't hurt them. He'd rather die himself than hurt him. He will take the demon out, even if it means killing himself, to protect them. My heart-And Dean doesn't even have time to grieve right now because he has to protect himself.

Dean is the Michael Sword? Okay, Wasn't expecting this, but WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT THE WINCHESTERS BEING CONNECTED? WHAT DID I SAY? And that's also why the angels want him.

wait

wait wait

i get it

Dean is meant to be the vessel of Michael, isn't he? That's why the angels want him. That's why he's the Michael sword.

I WAS RIGHT! I WAS RIGHT! I FEEL SO PROUD!

Castiel here to protect Dean and Sam yay! Very happy to see it! God is protecting Castiel? Is that what I'm hearing?

Sarah being the name of Nick's wife and who Lucifer is taking the form of is so interesting to me, with Sarah being the Matriarch and all.

The way Lucifer is talking to Nick- And Nick said yes...

I'm glad Bobby didn't actually die. I was expecting him to.

Bobby telling Sam he's not cutting him out- I love him I love him I love him. Bobby Singer Supremacy.

This scene between Dean and Sam hurts me so much I genuinely can't find it to add anything to it, I know they're going to end up going separate ways here. Everything is changing here. I feel so much for them both.

Okay. Well. That was. A lot. Um...

[neigesbf]

【 Blog Introduction ♪ 】

A personal blog to keep track of my yumeshipping art and different random thoughts about said yumeships ♡

Here you will find info about me, my yumeships, and tagging system !!

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ Info about me !!

∙ You can call me Jimmy or Jiminy LOL

∙ He / They / She

∙ 16 y/o

∙ Eng / Swe − some Tag / Jap

∙ Artist n Writer

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ My yumeships !!

Both romantic, platonic, and familial - only the ones I speak of most are included right now. However, as my current obsessions switch, I will add on.

∙ SnowCricket − 🦗❄️ − Neige Leblanche

↑ Romantic; My main yumeship, I use a yuusona self insert, Jaimie, within this ship

∙ CupidsBloodOrange − 🪽🩸🍊 − Himiko Toga & Tenya Iida

↑ Romantic; Main BNHA yumeship, using an OC, Jiyume, that I project onto heavily, polyship but sometimes separately − CupidsBlood and CupidsOrange, within an AU I have w/lots of canon divergence

∙ Ashton Vargas

↑ Familial, father figure for my twst yuusona.

∙ Shouta Aizawa

↑ Familial, yes I know - incredibly stereotypical and predictable but I am not immune to grumpy, reluctant, secretly soft-hearted older man father figure. Expect he actually adopts Jiyume - again, I know, predictable. But this is my self-indulgent blog so whatever.

∙ Nemuri Kayama

↑ Familial, she's my aunt. I love her. But, uh, yeah, Jiyume's aunt. Self-proclaimed by her, but Shouta doesn't mind.

∙ +more (TBA)

I will use tags with the respective ship names to sort things

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ Tags !!

#Blk00Olv;; Art − All of my art

#Blk00Olv;; Thoughts − Random thoughts I have about my yumeships

#Blk00Olv;; Drabble − My drabbles

#Blk00Olv;; Writing − Longer written pieces

#Jaimie🦗 − Stuff specific to my TWST yuusona

#Jiyume🪽 − Stuff specific to my BNHA OC

#SnowCricket🦗❄️ − Jaimie and Neige stuff

#CupidsBloodOrange🪽🩸🍊 − Jiyume, Himiko, and Tenya stuff

#CupidsBlood🪽🩸 − Jiyume and Himiko stuff

#CupidsOrange🪽🍊 − Jiyume and Tenya Stuff