#fun with grammar

[friday411]

The world TOTALLY NEEDS a question comma!!

Is it useful? Cool looking? Fun? — YESSS!! One verb to rule them all!! 👏

Don’t you hate it when you have a bunch of questions that aren’t grammatically full sentences since they use the same verb so you have dozens of characters till you get to the question mark and you kind of just forget about it, despise it, get surprised and don’t use the right tone when you’re reading it aloud?

Who’s with me?

I love you dead punctuation marks.

[fox-and-the-hound]

What if Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy swapped cutie-marks, but their personalities stayed the same?

[dignitywhatdignity]

As a grammarian, I'm more prescriptivist than I'm entirely proud of.

I'm in favor of the singular "they/them", and I want to bring back "thee/thou".

[macksartblock]

idk why i did this instead of sleeping last night but ayo s3 pcs

[cryoverkiltmilk]

I am begging them not to change it, ever, but I'll still provide the context I tracked down.

Star Trek craft book, I am begging you to describe this craft project in literally any other combination of words

[kedreeva]

Giving unsolicited criticism on fanfic, even for like typos and shit, is like coming to someone building a sandcastle on the beach and telling them it's not up to code. Like no shit, Sherlock, I'm not trying to fucking live in it, I'm just here to have a good time. When I want an inspection I'll make an appointment.

[thunderc1an]

a kittypet ventures into the old wild cat territory

[friday411]

Thank you so much @amypihcs and @fruitviking for spreading the word/s!

@surlifen I thank thee for thy lesson in the grammar of our ancestors so that those in the community of living history who wouldst provide the truest picture of their chosen time are able to so.

This lesson of thine doth also help ensure that the masterpieces of literature and drama of the past are more understandable and enjoyable for modern English speakers.

Know that thy words of wisdom are spreading across the globe even now!

*** If thou art a native speaker of English that has learned it by ear and are unused to formal instruction, the advice that I give unto thee is to read or listen to the (salacious) first few books of the King James Bible and any play of Shakespeare’s.

Thou sayest thou hast not the time? Do thou note that through the miracles of modern science thou canst listen whilst thou dost thy housework.

😉

Post scriptom:

Pointing to the dropping of thee/thou/thine is a good argument to use in the defense of the third person singular. Grammar is descriptive and not prescriptive!!!

NO ONE knows how to use thou/thee/thy/thine and i need to see that change if ur going to keep making “talking like a medieval peasant” jokes. /lh

They play the same roles as I/me/my/mine. In modern english, we use “you” for both the subject and the direct object/object of preposition/etc, so it’s difficult to compare “thou” to “you”.

So the trick is this: if you are trying to turn something Olde, first turn every “you” into first-person and then replace it like so:

“I” →  “thou”

“Me” →  “thee”

“My” →  “thy”

“Mine” →  “thine”

Let’s suppose we had the sentences “You have a cow. He gave it to you. It is your cow. The cow is yours”.

We could first imagine it in the first person-

“I have a cow. He gave it to me. It is my cow. The cow is mine”.

And then replace it-

“Thou hast a cow. He gave it to thee. It is thy cow. The cow is thine.”

[bonchobrick]

So I’ve seen some posts going around about a ‘Bruce adopts Danny and everyone thinks they’ll finally have a normal family member—Danny is very not normal’ and here’s my late night take on it.

Or

Danny batfam au where they batfam tries really hard to keep their vigilante ass-kicking nightlife a secret from danny because he is ‘the only normal one in the family’ this becomes a problem however when danny gets kidnapped.

——-

The batfam all work together in a deeply serious family meeting to save their boy. After hours of combining their brains together they come up with a plan that will effectively save danny from joker, kick joker’s ass, and also make them look really cool while doing it.

So they bust in that warehouse, guns blazing, explosions fading in the background, a gust of dramatic dust covers the air

Batman steps infront of the rest of the team and demands to the blurry figure somewhere in the distance, “Where is Danny!”

The dust clears–they expect bad guys pointing weapons meancingly at them, they expect a cackle of a wicked clown amused at whatever plot he had planned coming to life, they expected a terrified boy perhaps tied somewhere likely siting in a chair that joker could present to the bats as a way of taunting them.

The dust settles–they observed their surroundings looking around and realize that, there are few new facts to be added into this ‘defeat the villain, get the bro, happy ending equation’

There is decidedly no weapons being pointed at them: In fact, all of the henchmen are already knocked out and tied up.

There is decidedly no evil laughs being echoed their way: In fact, the only noise that isnt coming from them is a light scritch scratch of a pencil

And there is decidedly no terrified little boy, there is a Danny however and he seems to be doing alright–actually scratch that.

Danny is doing wonders for the situation he’s in right now: In fact–

–Danny is sitting criss cross applesauce on-top a knocked out tied up Joker doing his algebra homework

The small blue eyed boy looks up at Batman's voice and visibly brightens, “Oh hey guys, I was wondering when you’d show up.”

Jason says with the utmost of comprehension, “...what.”

“So hi, I’m kinda new to gotham so sorry about beating these guys up, I think they’re villains? I dunno, anyways if you could take care of these guys while I call an uber home that’d be great.”

Danny sends them a blinding smile which would've been adorable if there weren’t a massive pile of bodies he were casually walking away from.

As Danny nears the exit he looks over his shoulder to the baffled group of vigilantes and blinks

“Oh yeah one last thing,” Danny rubs the back of his neck nervously, “Could you guys not tell the Waynes about this.”

Damian speaks up for the rest of his frozen family, albeit hesitantly, “I do think they have already been alerted of your kidnapping.”

“Oh no that's fine.” Danny starts nervously, “It's more about me being the… fighter… in this situation. I was just adopted by them and they seem really nice, I don’t want to scare them away being all grrrr im a scary monster boy and i love to hurt people argh.”

“I don’t think they’d think you're a monster.” Tim adds quietly

“Eh, tell that to my birth parents–they went psycho on me. Like evil scientist psycho, it was not as awesome as the movies make it sound, having scientists for parents.” Danny says bittersweet as he admits with a shrug

There is a moment of silence as the batfamily reevaluate the adoption file that states Danny’s family before they passed were very good people–albeit a bit excentric.

Dick blurts out, “Where did you learn to fight?”

Danny sends him an anxious chuckle, “I actually started when I was fourteen–my town always ran into some trouble so I had to step up. It’s part of the reason I moved here actually. I really don’t want anything to do with that hero vigilante life anymore…” The boy puts his hands together in a pleading motion, “So please don’t tell The Waynes!”

Bewildered at the situation as a whole they nod in a daze

The boys eyes widen at their easy agreement and he grins, “Thank you so so much! I’ve got to go now, it’s way past my curfew. but you’ll probably see me again next time I get kidnapped–I’ll make sure to put in a good word for you guys with my family bye!”

And just like that Danny slips off into the night leaving behind a family who were so sure they finally found a normal addition to their pack.

Jason sighs looking forlornly at the spot Danny had previously been standing, “You could just never pick the just semi-mentally healthy normal kids could you?”

Bruce groans pinching his the bridge of his nose

[lemongogo]

they should get to kill each other at least twice .i think

[purpleshadow-star]

And with this, I've joined the bandwagon.

[slasherscream]

I don't normally like make requests from people if it's obvious I'm sorry for my awkwardness.

Anyway you were saying how you were really into Jordan li recently so am I and I've read every single fanfiction or every rant there is about them and I crave more. I have been in a angst/fluff mood and I haven't seen anyone do this idea either. I was thinking thinking maybe Jordan and reader gets into an argument (not really picky about what) and the argument gets really heated (you know how jordan shifts into their male form to Intimidate or get their point across) Jordan shifts into their male form which scares reader (I'm thinking reader doesn't have a good past with angry men) and reader backs away from them in fear Jordan notices and tries to comfort them but reader flinched when Jordan touches them. Reader then asks them to leave so they do but Jordan spends like a week trying to make the situation better.

(I would also like to put reader isn't scared of Jordan more so the action of the blatant Intimidation tactic they tried to use against reader. Reader is angry that jordan would try to scare them even if it wasn't on purpose it still hurt)

Jordan sorta just spends a week following reader around Like a lost puppy trying to treat reader like a absolute queen even if reader won't really acknowledge them until Jordan has an breakdown while drunk coming to readers dorm begging for forgiveness.

Again if its obvious I don't know how to make requests I'm sorry this has just been on my mind for so long.

A/N: this request is absolutely perfect, and exactly to my tastes. thank you for sending it, doll!

WORD COUNT: 4k+ under cut | hurt/comfort and angst/fluff

It’s hard sometimes, knowing when to push and when to just let Jordan be. Not at all a skill you learned over night. You’d gotten good at the push and pull of bringing them out of their shell back when the two of you had just been friends. Better at it than anyone else, at least. It was a slow process, but every second was worth it.

Now on the good days you don’t have to push at all. A hand on their arm. A coaxing smile or two. Any act of connection, no matter how small, enough to make them tell you what’s on their mind. Even if they scowl the entire time they let it out. It’s the letting it out at all that counts. Progress!

Today you miscalculated. It’s been a bad week. Jordan hadn’t dropped in the rankings, but their points took a small dip. They hadn’t been very active on their socials, busy doing work as Brink’s TA. But the point gap between where Jordan sits at #2 in the rankings, and where Andre sits at #3 is still a wide open chasm. 

It’d take something truly disastrous to knock Jordan from the spot they’ve held for three years now. But the rankings are more important than anything to Jordan. No matter how gently you try to bring logic into the situation, Jordan gets irritated quickly, accusing you of not taking it seriously. You often wonder how that could be, considering you’re in the top eight yourself, but you bite your tongue and don’t bring it up.

The group had tried to go out for lunch. It was okay at first, everyone making an effort to ignore the storm cloud Jordan cast over the table as they picked at their food. Then Andre had made some type of stupid joke. Not even about the rankings, but enough to make Jordan snap at him. The situation escalated so quickly that Cate had threatened to take off her glove and make everyone shut up. You paid your portion of the bill and dragged Jordan out before anyone could start up again. 

And now you’re here, somehow also on the shit list for not being supportive enough. As if being supportive isn't everything you do. Day in and day out.

“I can’t believe you’re taking his side. You don’t honestly think it was an innocent comment, do you?” Jordan snaps, standing up from your couch to pace the length of your dorm room. 

“You know how Andre is. He gets sarcastic when he’s hungover, and he was packing a double whammy. He did coke and got drunk last night. He was just a little off. He wasn’t making a real dig at you.” You defend your friend, knowing Jordan will regret what she said at lunch once she’s calmed down. 

“Oh, so we’re all just supposed to tiptoe around his highness? If he was gonna be a dick during the entire thing he should have just skipped coming out with us.” Jordan’s eyes narrow in on your expression, the sudden pursing to your lips and looking away. “What?” She snaps.

You take a deep breath at the tone, “Well, Jordie, if you want me to be honest Andre wasn’t the only one who wasn’t on their best behavior today.” 

A beat of silence.

You look up and there goes Jordan rolling her shoulders back, eyebrows practically in her hairline and you sigh. You definitely should have brought up her attitude later. 

“You really are taking his side!” She scoffs in disbelief. 

“Nope. No, I am not, there are no sides. We’re all friends. Friends fight. I’m just trying to remind you that you actually are friends. You can’t just…” You trail off, uncertain. 

“I can’t just what?” She throws up her hands, volume raising. 

“You can’t act like this every time the rankings do something that isn’t spectacular for you. I know they mean a lot to you but you can’t take the numbers out on the people who care about you.”

“You just don’t get it-”

“But I do get it! We talk about it all the time. Your feelings are completely valid, the way you react to them isn’t. You’ve been giving Andre looks that could kill all week and he didn’t even do anything. If he was a little snappy at lunch, maybe he’s upset that his friend has been treating him like shit over something he barely cares about.” 

“Well if I’m so-” Jordan shifts, pitch of his voice deepening, on the verge of yelling, “-fucking awful why don’t you go run to Andre and cry about it together?” 

He only takes two steps towards the couch before you use your powers. It’s instinct, the way the forcefield bubbles up around you. 

Whatever Jordan was going to say next shrivels up and dies on his tongue. The only sounds in the room are the quiet hum your powers make when you use them, and the scared, panicked gasp you make from inside the forcefield you put up to protect yourself from him.

There’s a second where the two of you just stare at each other. Both in shock. 

“Baby-” Jordan tries taking another step forward, a small, barely there shuffle of his foot. His face falls when the forcefield gets a little louder, glows a little brighter. 

Jordan looks close to tears. It’s that expression that pulls you out of the animal state of fear you’d fallen into. You look away from them. Take a few heaving breaths. Do your best to not mix up faces of the past with your present and future.

Your forcefield flickers out slowly. A concentrated effort. 

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m… I’m sorry I didn’t mean to- I would never ever-'' Jordan shifts again. She rushes too fast into your space to kneel on the ground in front of you, her hands reaching for yours, desperate and clumsy.

When you flinch away, moving so you’re perched on the armrest of the couch, still trying to calm yourself down, she’s left with her hands grasping at air. “Baby, look at me. Please? Look at me, I’m sorry I yelled. I’m sorry that I… I’m sorry. I would never hurt you. I fucking swear I wasn’t-”

“I know, Jordan.” You shake your head, trying to stay calm. “Could you please….leave? I… I can’t calm down right now. I’m trying. I know you didn’t mean to… to scare me, but I need you to go.” 

“Baby, wait, fuck. Fuck, wait! I’m sorry. Let’s just talk. I can’t leave you alone like this. I’m sorry.” She’s panicking now, throat feeling like it’s closing up. 

She doesn’t try to reach for you again, but her hands feel like they’re burning from the effort it takes to keep them away from you. It’s instinct to hold you, to make it better, to pull you closer. She’s always been the place you run to when you’re scared, the shield you step behind when you need to feel safe. She doesn’t know what to do when you don’t even want to be near her.

“We’ll talk later. I’ll… I’ll have Cate come over so I’m not alone. Just.. leave.” Your voice breaks on a sob, and you’re begging her to leave, and that’s what makes Jordan head to the door, legs shaking. She’s never made you cry before. 

She’s glued to her phone the rest of the day, waiting for you to call. You don’t. 

⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊

You’ve been best friends since you were freshman. You haven’t gone longer than two days without talking in all that time since. No matter how busy you are. No matter how shitty either of you feels. Jordan doesn’t know what to do with the hours of the day that you usually fill. 

She breaks on the second day when you show up to class and move to sit by Luke on the other side of the room instead of with her. You don’t even look at her as you walk by. 

Class doesn’t start for another five minutes. The teacher isn’t even here yet, and she’s always late. Jordan moves to get up, already feeling like she’s choking on all the words she needs to say to you to fix this, but is stopped by a firm grip around her wrist. She’s about to snap when she realizes it’s Cate, taking up your usual spot in the seat that isn’t up for grabs because it’s Your Seat. 

“Don’t make the situation worse. She just wants to go to class. Don’t hound her, Jordan.”

“Hound her?” Jordan’s voice raises, incredulous. “She’s my girlfriend. I need to talk to her.” 

“You need to apologize.” Cate bites. “Dick.” 

“That’s what I was trying to do before you stopped me.” Jordan speaks through gritted teeth.

“How about you try apologizing after she’s done all her classes? That way, when you inevitably upset her, she doesn’t hole herself up in her room all day crying. And feel bad about missing class on top of it. You know… the way she spent all of yesterday?” 

“She cried all day?” Jordan’s shoulders sag, voice getting smaller. 

Cate softens, patting Jordan’s hand.  “It’s not just about you, and you know that. Triggers like this really fuck with people. And she’s also pissed that she’s triggered in the first place. Let her cool off.”

⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊

He makes it a few hours before he’s trailing after you. 

He can tell by the tension in the line of your spine that you know he’s there. But you don’t outright tell him to get lost, so Jordan can’t stop himself from following you around. Even if you don’t want him there. 

He sits across from you as you study in the library. Makes puppy dog eyes at you the entire time. He can’t be bothered to unpack his bag. It’d be useless to pretend he’ll do anything besides watching you.  

Two hours in, he gets up and leaves, hating the way your shoulders relax as he turns to go. 

He comes back twenty minutes later with your favorite foods and drink from the best local coffee shop. You don’t reach for any of it. He’s always loved how stubborn you are, how you stick to your ideas. Your principles. How steadfastly you make up your mind. Right now he’s just a little terrified of that same stubbornness. Remembers when you’d only been friends, that first year of peeling one another open, feeling each other out. 

(“I’ll never do it, Jordan.” You’d whispered vehemently, drunk and mad and beautiful. 

“Do what?” 

“Be with anyone who tries to fucking cow me into submission. It’s fucked. I won’t do it. I’ve had enough of it.” 

You’d passed the bottle you’d just had pressed to your lips and Jordan had tried not to think too hard about it, even when he tasted the remnants of your sticky, sweet lip gloss beneath the vodka.) 

He doesn’t get up to leave again until you do. 

Jordan walks you to your dorm, but trails a few steps behind you. He tried walking directly beside you at first, but your hands brushed together and the look you gave him was cold enough to freeze blood. 

So-

-behind it is. 

Jordan doesn’t get the chance to say goodnight before you slam the door in his face as loudly as possible.

⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊

Jordan doesn’t push her luck by trying to walk you to your classes the next morning. She does wake up extra early to buy you the biggest bouquet of your favorite flowers she could find. She leaves them outside your door and goes to class, hoping you’ll at least acknowledge her, the next time you see her.

During your first shared class of the day you walk in holding the bouquet of flowers. Jordan perks up in her seat, holding her breath. You do finally look at her. You make direct eye contact as you throw the flowers into the trash can at the teacher’s desk.

Jordan does not break her pen in half when Andre whispers “yikes” under his breath.

⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊

Two more days and Jordan feels like he’s going insane. He knows you feel worse. One glance at the carefully nonchalant expression you’ve worn all week tells him that. Putting on a mask is nothing for you. That look is the first thing you learned how to do in the top ten. 

You’d never hidden the way you felt around him before. Not like this. His skin keeps buzzing with the urge to corner you. Jordan needs the two of you to talk about what happened. But he’s already walking the world’s thinnest line. 

And he knows he can’t force you, if you’re not ready. 

Another thing he knows: when you’re this upset you don’t clean. Simultaneously, when your room gets messy your depression gets worse. He skips one of your mutual classes of the day and lets himself into your dorm with the key you gave him during first year. 

Jordan looks around, wincing at the chaos. You never let it get this bad. Not even during your most soul crushing finals. He starts by throwing away the trash. The tissues you wiped your tears with. The takeout containers. Pages of your notebooks you ripped out, carelessly thrown around the room. You take awful notes in class when you’re distracted. He hates that he’s distracting you.

He wipes down every surface with your favorite scented cleaner. Dusts your books. Sweeps and mops. Changes your sheets and grabs the brightest, happiest color comforter you have stashed in your closet to put on the bed. As he adjusts the pillows he thinks about how often you spend the night at each other’s dorms. Jordan wonders if you’ve been struggling to sleep like he has. 

He hesitates, but goes to his room down the hall to grab his cologne. He spritzes it lightly over the bed and hopes you still find the way he smells comforting. 

Next is your laundry. He starts up a few loads, irons and puts away the clothes that were sitting in a wrinkled heap on your couch. You’ve always hated doing your laundry. 

He’s heading back to your room, a full laundry basket of clean clothes under each arm when you run into each other.

“Are those my clothes?” You ask, forgetting that you aren’t exactly speaking to him in your moment of confusion. 

“Yeah… I’m… I was cleaning my room. Doing some stuff. Figured I’d do a few of your loads too, while I’m already at it.” He shoots for casualness, knows he fails miserably.

“You didn’t have to do that.” You say, words stiff and uncomfortable. 

“I know I just…” Jordan shrugs, relieved to be standing within a few feet of you after days of silence, and feeling pathetic over how happy something so small makes him. “Why don’t you go get something to eat with Cate while I finish up here?” 

“Finish up what?” You ask.

“I still gotta put these away.” 

You sigh, wanting the conversation to end, “You don’t have to put my clothes away, Jordan. Or wash them. I’m quite capable of doing it myself.”

Jordan takes a step back when you make a reach for one of the baskets under his arms. “I know that! Just let me do it. Doing your laundry always pisses you off. I’ve got it.” 

A battle of wills ignited. You, staring him down. Jordan, trying not to squirm. He wants to try apologizing again but doesn’t know if he’ll only make it worse.

“Please, baby? Go somewhere nice with Cate. My treat.” He puts down a laundry basket (behind him, so you can’t take it) to grab his phone from his pocket, and does something you can’t see. 

When you hear the particular chime your banking app makes when you get a Zelle deposit you roll your eyes. You don’t bother checking your phone and seeing how much he sent. You know it’s too much. But if you say anything he’ll just say you and Cate have expensive tastes (which…true.)

“Maybe you can catch a movie too? I still gotta finish up with your bathroom.” 

“Jordan.” 

“Just,” Jordan shifts, putting down the other laundry basket and slowly reaching out to grab your hand with hers. She could almost cry when you let her touch you. “I know you’re fucking pissed at me. And I know you’re still too upset to talk about it. But…. fuck, please just let me take care of you. Please. I have to do something. I can’t just sit around, after I made you feel like this. It’s driving me nuts. I’m supposed to-” 

You stop her, putting a hand on her cheek and sighing, “Okay, Jordan. I’ll go hang out with Cate while you finish.” 

“Don’t ‘hang out’, go get dinner. You haven’t eaten all day.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know you.” She says, sullen and staring up at you, playing with your fingers while you’re still letting her touch you, the first time in days. 

“I’ll head to Cate’s.” 

“Nah, head to Luke’s. They’re studying together right now.” Jordan takes a risk, stepping into your space slowly, giving you the time to move away. She leans in and kisses your cheek, gentle. When you don’t move away she can’t help herself, kisses the edge of your lips too. 

You don’t kiss her back, but you give her hand a squeeze as you pull away. You stop halfway down the hall before you turn back to look at Jordan. “Call Cate and tell her she better not be fucking Luke by the time I get to his dorm.” 

Jordan laughs. Your face is a little more relaxed as you turn away this time.

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On Friday the group goes out to the club. They chose one of your favorite haunts, hoping it would entice you enough to join. You still declined the invitation. Everyone knew you would. They still wanted to try. 

You claimed you had a lot of work to catch up on. 

“She hates me. She fucking hates me.” Jordan groans into his hands, already three drinks and two shots in. 

“Well, let’s not panic.” Luke says. 

“Or be dramatic.” Andre snorts, taking a shot of his own. “You two are obsessed with each other. Relax.” 

“Relax?!” Jordan tenses, “My girl won’t fucking talk to me. How am I supposed to relax?” 

“She talked to you yesterday.” Andre drawls. 

“That wasn’t anything. We usually-”

“-Spend every free second of the day together? We know.” Luke teases. When Jordan doesn’t even smile he winces and slides him another shot. 

“She’s not even that mad. She’s more upset than anything.” Cate says, cuddling into Luke’s side. 

Jordan’s eyes follow the movement and he swallows at the distinct lack of your own weight leaning into him. You always get touchy when you’re tipsy. Climbing on top of him, clinging to him like glue. It’s his favorite part of nights out together. That and the playful booing you guys get from the group. 

Andre cuts back in, “I’m serious, dude. Relax! You guys have been together for how long now-”

“Three years.”

“-yeah, exactly. Since the fucking building of the pyramids. You two will be fine. She knows you didn’t mean anything by it. One fight won’t kill you.” 

“This wasn’t a fight, though. I fucked up! You didn’t see the look on her face. When she used her powers… I mean, fuck! You know? She was scared of me.”

“You know that’s not true, Jordan.” Luke protests. 

Jordan runs his hands through his hair, ruining the carefully slicked back style.

“Let’s just get you another drink. Come on, dude.” Andre wraps an arm around Jordan, hauling him to his feet and pulling him towards the bar. 

⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊

You get woken up by the sound of knocking on your door. Loud knocking. You keep your eyes closed, hoping whoever it is will go away. You don’t even want to be awake. Let alone socializing. 

The knocking gets louder. Exhausted, you drag yourself out of bed. You glance at your phone on the bedside table as you get up. It’s three in the morning. Now you’re exhausted and pissed. 

You stomp over to the door, wrenching it open, prepared to cuss someone out. You deflate when you see who it is. “Oh, hey.”

Jordan is leaning heavily on the door frame, staring at you with watery, red eyes. She looks like the walking dead. “Baby. Fuck, did I wake you up? I thought you’d still be awake. You said you were pulling an all-nighter.”

“I was tired. Just wanted to sleep.” You shrug. “Where’s everyone else?”

“Still at the club, took an uber back. Too fucked up for anything else.” She mutters.

“That’s good, Jordan.” You say. 

“You haven’t called me Jordan since freshman year. What happened to Jordie?” She sighs. 

Your face softens. “Baby…”

“No, wait, just let me…” Jordan leans her forehead against the door-frame, closing her eyes tight. “I’m sorry. I fucked up big time. I’m sorry that when I get pissed I take it out on everyone around me. I’m sorry that I don’t fucking listen when you’re just trying to make me feel better. I’m sorry I yelled… I’m sorry I shift-”

“Whoa, hey.” You cut her off, shocked. “You shifting isn’t the problem, Jordan. Fuck, come inside, honey.” You say, taking her hand and pulling her inside. 

You sit the two of you on the couch, clicking on the light so you can see each other. You move so you’re facing each other, pulling her hands into your lap. “First off let’s set one thing straight. You shifting is never the problem, okay?” 

“You got so fucking scared.” Jordan looks away, hair falling into her face.

“Not of you.. Just the fucking… optics of it! I don’t ever want you to be something you’re not. And you’ve got the incredible gift of being able to be whatever you feel like being any time you want to.” You reach out and touch her cheek, guiding her to look at you, “I don’t want you to not do that. I wouldn’t ever want you not to do that, okay?”

“Okay.” She says. There’s a moment of silence, then Jordan shifts. He looks for any sign of fear or hesitation, holding his breath. When he doesn’t see any he relaxes. “But I scared you so bad you used your powers.” 

“Yeah, that did happen.” You nod, caressing his cheek with your thumb, “Maybe it’s just a little scary when someone bigger and stronger than me starts yelling like that. Also, invulnerable. Let’s not forget that. Food for thought.” 

He closes his eyes, “I’m an idiot.” 

“For yelling at me? Yeah, just a little. Don’t yell at me like that no matter what form you’re in. That's always scary. Couples talk. They don’t yell. Most of the time. We can’t be the couple that does that.”

“I’ll never yell like that again. Either form. I promise.” Jordan says, “Can I hold you? It’s been a fucking week. I’m losing my mind.” 

You laugh, climbing into his lap and Jordan sighs, wrapping his arms around you as tightly as he can. He tucks your head into his neck. “I missed you like fucking crazy.” 

“Missed you too.” You sigh, “Stay the night?” 

“You’re not leaving my sight for the next two months.” He laughs, pulling you closer.

“Only two months? That’s fucked up, I thought you missed me.” You tease. 

“Shut up.” He scoffs, kissing the side of your head. 

You snuggle closer, letting the tension of the week drift away.

“You yell at me like that again and your only hope is being invulnerable, actually. I’ll put you through a wall.” You kiss his shoulder cheerfully. 

“I’d do it before you got the chance.”

You burst into laughter and he pulls your head away from his shoulder so he can see you the way you’re supposed to look around him. Happy. Content. He can’t stop himself from kissing you. You can’t stop yourself from kissing back. 

[the-auguer]

no guts

just a little something that’s been in the crockpot of my mind for, oh, a year. i’m purging the dreaded WIPs of my notes app and figured I finally found the direction I wanted to go with this one. this is inspired by @fickleminder’s “no hope, no love, no glory” which you should definitely read. basically, what would happen if MC fell out of favor with Mammon

———————————————

“And— and ya shoulda seen the server’s face when Beel kept goin’ with the— hey. Hey? Ya listenin’ over there?”

Your eyes had gone cloudy. They usually do around halfway into any story, but Mammon was determined to make you laugh this time. This was a story tried and tested to make even the grumpiest demons laugh and he misses your laugh like he’s never missed anything else. There’s an ache where your presence used to be that nothing else can fill. Because he can be leaning over your bedside, fussing over your pillows, scooting his chair up until his knees knock against the bed frame and it won’t matter. You’re present and you’re breathing and he’s close to you, but you’re not there. Not there. 

Your eyes drift back down to his face, focusing back in, just a little. It’s enough for Mammon to pick back up his story, watching your attention extra carefully now because this is the punchline of the story and you can’t miss it or he’ll never hear you laugh and the void will keep aching because he’s greedy and grasping but there’s nothing to have anymore, nothing to grasp— except there will be because Mammon will make it. He’ll create something to hold onto, something he’ll horde all to himself in the hole in his chest. He’ll create it. 

“And it was a mess, and the server said, he said—“

“I was a server,” you croak and Mammon is instantly snapping his mouth shut. His teeth clink together uncomfortably but Mammon ignores it, nodding his head rapidly, eager to egg you on. You talk so little. Your voice sounds a bit rough, should he grab you a glass of water? But no, he has to pay attention, he’ll get you that glass in a minute. He’ll remember. 

Your eyes list to the side and Mammon swerves his head so you’re still making eye contact with him. 

“There was… the company went bankrupt so I had to find another job.” You say. Your fingers inch across your blankets, tapping against the mattress just slightly. Like you’re about to start gesticulating when you speak. They don’t go very far. “It was around— no, it was near my… my house. Apartment. The restaurant was near my apartment… maybe two, three miles away. I’d walk there everyday.”

Mammon leans further in, hanging off your every word. What little he knows about your life outside your time in the Devildom hurts him. Pains him like nothing else. That you had a life, that you had experiences, that you lived your human lifespan and Mammon only gets the tail end of it when he wanted the all of it. But that’s his own fault, isn’t it? No use in being greedy with something you gave up. Mammon will leave that to Levi. He’d prefer to be greedy with the time you have left in his life than envious of the time you spent without him. 

“I mostly… I mostly handled the cashdrawer. The customers would— they never tipped when I was the server.” Your eyes move to him and there’s the clarity Mammon’s been aching for. The slightest bit of sharpness in your eyes. It makes his heart beat a little faster, even after all this time. “And I always wasted the— the ingredients when I cooked. So I manned the register.”

You huff out a breath and Mammon’s heart near leapt out of his throat. You laughed. You laughed you laughed you laughed you laughed. You laughed and he was here to see it. 

“Should— I should have known,” you mumble and Mammon strains himself to hear everything you say. “I never did anything right. It was a couple dollars at first. Every few nights. But then I was losing ten. Twenty. Thirty. Every night.” Your brows furrow as you recall. “And they said— said I was stealing.”

Your eyes turn to him and they bore into him with… something. Not intensity. Not sadness. But some kind of weight Mammon can’t place. Every nerve is prickling. His chest hurts. 

“I wasn’t.” You whisper, like it’s a confession. “But the— and then when I was moved to cleaning, when it stopped going missing. And then I spilled— I was fired. From being a server.”

Your eyes slide away from him and you look down at your hands, still and wrinkled on the blankets. 

“Never did anything right,” you mutter.

“That’s not true!” Mammon bursts out heatedly, making you startle a little. He lowers his voice immediately. “That’s not true. Ya— ya did everythin’ right. Ya did.” 

You slowly sink back against the pillows, loosing whatever wind you had, the firmness of your posture and eyes fading away. You make a ‘hmmph’ sound of mild derision and say nothing else. 

Mammon’s hands hover over one of yours. There’s a sick, tight feeling in his throat and he just wants to explain that you weren’t a screw up or a failure or whatever else you might think. They were the failures, the colossal fuck ups. Mammon most of all. 

If you were having trouble at your job, Mammon should have been there. Your first man, your protector, should have helped you prove your innocence and helped you find the missing cash. Mammon’s always had a nose for money, and it would have been easy for him to give you some of his—

Some of his affinity for it. 

“No. No no no no no no no no no no.” Mammon hands cover your hand, squeezing it tightly. “Ya— did you have trouble? Did— did— ya said your company went bankrupt? Money went missing? What other stuff happened? Hey, hey. Focus on me, please? What else happened? Please?”

Your eyes do move to him, annoyance in the slight furrow of your brow. But you don’t say anything. 

“No, please? Just— ya don’t gotta tell me all of it, promise. Just a little.”

“Every company,” you mutter, resentful. Mammon doesn’t know if you’re resentful of him or what you’re talking about. He doesn’t want to know. 

“Every company what,” Mammon snaps, impatient. His heart is thudding so fast. His hands are drained of color around the knuckles and shaking over your wrinkled one. “They what?”

“Went bankrupt. Or I got laid off. Every company I worked for.” You shake your head, eyes trained on the ceiling but looking off somewhere unknowable. “Never did anything right.”

Mammon’s hands fall away from their vice grip on yours. They find a new home over his mouth, where he clamps his fingers to his jaw as he fights wave after wave of nausea. 

Fuck. Fuck!

“I didn’t…” he gasps. “It— I didn’t do it,” he tells you desperately. “It wasn’t me! Or I— I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know!”

You look at him again. And it… it’s awful. Mammon can spend hours by your bed, praying for you to look at him, hoarding every moment you acknowledge him. But this? Your empty eyes that somehow pin him to his chair? They make him want to run. Shrivel up and disappear. Worse than when Lucifer gets the wrinkle in the middle of his forehead that means he’s really upset and Mammon has fucking done it this time. 

“Okay,” you say, befuddled and… and nothing else. Nothing at all.

Mammon puts his head in his hands, his elbows digging into his thighs. You once told him his elbows were bony. Laughed right in his face when he got all puffed up and mad about it. He feels it now, the aching pressure that presses his legs into the fake leather cushion of the stiff, uncomfortable chair he sits in. 

He would give every Grimm— no, every bit of gold, every shiny piece, every glimmer in his collection for you to call him bony again. 

“I didn’t know,” he says again. To you. To the open air of the stupid, shitty human nursing home. To his brothers— fuck how is he going to tell them? How is he supposed to… fuck. 

You don’t answer. And for once, Mammon’s grateful for it. 

[weepingfishturtledragon]

Captain Marvel whenever he needs to drive any vehicle: I don't know what to do, there's a little voice inside of me saying "This is a bad idea!" But I can barely hear that little voice because an even louder little voice is screaming "LET THE 12 YEAR OLD DRIVE!!!"

[fukcnoplease]

Things always go wrong Pt2 :0

Pt1 Pt3 Pt4 Pt5

Dani roused from her sleep to see forests rushing passed and the sun beginning to dip behind them. The world was bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun and she basked in its beauty. This was why she loved traveling. The beauty, the freedom, the fun.

She turned to Danny to see none of those things. He was gaunt and rigid. Eyes pinned to the road in tense silence as they drove way too many miles over the speed limit. 

“Did you die die?” Dani asked, poking his cheek. He felt clammy. That probably wasn't good. Dani didn't feel great either. Tired and saggy, like all her muscles had deflated.

Danny just grunted in response. That was VERY not good. No Danny banter meant Danny really HAD died.

“So is this a drive to heaven or to hell?” She asked. Danny snorted. That was a good sign.

“Gotham.” He grumbled. It sounded forced, like it hurt to say. Dani frowned.

“So hell it is. Why are we going there?” Danny remained silent and his face fell into a scowl. “You’re doing a pretty good Batman impression but that doesnt tell me why we are going to meet him.”

“We are not meeting batman. We are going to Jazz” Danny said.

“Ooh, better than batman!” Dani playfully punched her arms in the air and Danny winced. Dani noticed but didn’t comment as she went to grab his phone. It was cracked slightly and was full of messages and calls from Sam and Tucker. Notably, it didn't have any directions pulled up.

“Do you know where you’re going?” Danni asked. Danny moved for the first time, shifting uncomfortably.

“...No.” He muttered as he kept his eyes on the road. Dani rolled her eyes at him and started looking through his phone, she had learned his password ages ago and as much as he threatened to change it on her, he never did. Though that might have been more forgetfulness than endearment but Dani would interpret it as she wished.

“You are so bad at road trips.” She said as she connected his phone to the aux cord and pulled up directions to Gotham. They still had almost nine hours to drive and the sun was only getting lower. “There is a rest stop about an hour from here. We can rest there for the night.”

Danny didn't look too pleased at the idea but he knew they didn't have any money for a motel and he couldn't drive the entire night. He didn't want to stop driving so soon though. Moving helped dull the pain.

“Are there any further rest stops?”

“Hmm… Theres one about three hours from us?and then another at the six hour mark. We could stop there for lunch tomorrow.” Dani said. Danny grumbled but nodded. He didn't want to stop at all tomorrow. Stopping for the night felt like too much, let alone pausing midway through the drive tomorrow.

The rest of the drive was Dani playing music and chatting away. Chipping away at Danny’s panicked and suffering walls until he finally relaxed into their usual banter. She played eye-spy and when she got bored of that she played twenty questions. When Danny chose a water bear as his animal she gave up on that too. They devolved into silly arguments about how water bears shouldn't be allowed or how it wasn't fair that Dani kept picking things Danny couldn't see in eye-spy. 

As the sky darkened and the car’s headlights came on they fell into an easy silence. Danny still hurt but it was better and Dani’s core was humming comfort at him which helped.

Dani was half asleep when they pulled into the rest stop. The lights still on but the cafes and restaurants, closed or closing. She woke up fully when Danny moved to look through the back seat. Shuffling through whatever he had thrown back there and forgotten about. 

Gloves, a box of tissues, an empty tote bag and an old backpack he used before he bought a new one. It had a gum packet in it and a pen but nothing else. Groaning, he went and opened the trunk, a black scorch mark from where it had been hit earlier that day. He had camping gear for when he went stargazing. A tent, blankets, portable stove and a lighter, gas for the stove, a pocket knife, a mess kit. He was rummaging through when Dani popped up beside him.

“You got twenty dollars in your phone case.” She said and Danny jerked up hitting his head on the trunk door. He rubbed his head and whacked Dani’s shoulder while she laughed, he was smiling but he wouldn't admit it.

He grabbed his phone from the car and Dani closed the trunk, whistling at the damage.

“Who did that?” She asked, eyeing the marks on the car.

“Some fruitloops after a kidnapped ghost.” Danny said.

“Kidnapped? Me? How awful.” She said, putting her hand up and pretending to swoon.

“You’re right. The poor kidnappers.” Danny laughed and Dani rolled her eyes. She punched him in the side playfully and he hissed in pain. 

They both paused and Dani poked his side and he winced.

“Are you ok?” She asked. He hasn't seemed that injured when he was driving.

“Yeah, just a bit tender.” Danny joked. Dani stared at him, waiting for a better answer than that and Danny sighed. “Leaving Amity was harder than I thought it would be.” Dani still didn't really understand but Danny looked like he would rather be sick than answer her and she really didn't want him to be sick in front of her. 

“Do you want to get food?” she asked and Danny gave her a thankful smile before nodding. 

They grabbed a snack each, bbq chips and oreos,  and a bottle of water to share. Dani nicked a portable charger and some jerky while Danny was in the bathroom and then they headed back out to the door. When they were back in the car Dani pulled out the portable charger and plugged in Danny’s phone.

“Where did you get that?” He asked, eyeing it incredulously. It definitely didn't look under twelve dollars and thats all they had left after the snacks.

“Same place we got the rest of this stuff.” She said dropping the rest of the snacks and jerky between them. Danny noted the extra snack but just rolled his eyes. They ate but Danny kept the jerky for the next day and then he pulled out the blankets from his trunk. 

Snuggled up, with their cores harmonizing, they fell asleep. 

The car shook and a bang followed by the crunching and scraping of metal woke them up. Danny shot up, the sky just starting to lighten, face meeting with the barrel of an anti-ecto gun. He lunged to the side. The headrest of his seat was evaporated and Dani sent out her own ecto blast. The attacker was forced back into the white van that was ramming them and they could hear some colourful words through their panic. Danny jammed the key into the ignition and turned it, the engine roaring to life. Shrieking metal filled their ears as the forced the vehicles apart and booked it out of the parking lot. The road bumps sending pieces of glass flying as Danny realized his window had been smashed during the attack. The back seat window seemed cracked but still intact and the windscreen had a spider web fracture but was holding up. His core shuddered at the damage but the pain was overridden by the need to protect Dani. 

He glanced over and saw a very shellshocked young ghost shaking in the passenger seat. She probably used too much ectoplasm in that blast. Neither of them were recovered enough and even with harmonizing he wasn't sure they would be able to recover enough to take another attack. He shook his head and focused on driving.

It took some maneuvers and some, maybe a lot, of speeding to lose the GIW but they managed. Dani pulled up directions and turned on whatever music she could find.

They spent the next few hours staring out their respective windows. Dani didn't like it. She didn't like the silence or the stress or the way her body shook in fear and exhaustion. Road Trips were supposed to be fun.

Danny didn't speak. His core was barely humming, barely responding to her, as they drove. It wasn't until the low gas symbol popped up on the dash that he said anything and of course it was just another curse. Dani was getting fed up with Danny’s shrinking vocabulary. 

She didn't say anything as she added a new stop to the directions, the closest gas station. Maybe a part of her was hoping her grumpiness would get Danny to snap out of whatever grump he was experiencing. Probably not a reasonable or healthy way to handle the situation, if you asked someone like Jazz, but Dani didn't ask Jazz. 

Danny didn't seem to notice though. He pulled into the gas station and turned off the car. His core buzzing with panic as he set up the gas pump and slumped against the car with a groan of pain. Dani frowned and poked her head out of the car. He looked pale, too pale. They were in their human forms, he shouldn't be that pale. At least she didn't think so. Though maybe she wasn't an expert on normal human medicine.

The gas pump beeped and Danny dragged himself up to remove the pump and go into the gas station. Dani suddenly worried about how they would pay, they had filled the tank up to full and that couldn't be cheap. 

Danny stumbled and fell into someone by the gas station entrance, a big guy with tattoos in a tank top, jeans and were those cowboy boots? Danny apologized and the guy shoved him, making him stumble again. Dani almost flew out of the car at him before she noticed a flash of dark leather in Danny’s hand.

No way.

The big tough guy waved him off and went back to smoking as Danny went inside and paid with a wallet he had most definitely not had five minutes ago. Danni stared at her basically brother, slacked jawed, as he casually dropped the wallet back into the guys pocket with some intangibility and then hurriedly slipped back into the car. His face was hard and he glared forward as he started the car.

“Did you just-?” Dani started, her excitement at her brother's newfound skills making her bounce in her seat. 

“No. Dont. Talk about it.” He cut her off, jaw set. She stilled in her seat and went back to pouting. When she vibrated her core at him he didn't even respond. She felt her core freeze at the lack of reaction and she tried again. There was a thump of something and Danny grunted but that was it. That was all that she got. Dread curled in her stomach as she stared at the road in front of her. 

They drove on and Dani didn't even mention the second rest stop they were supposed to stop at and Danny didn't either. There wasn't even music and the silence was only occasionally broken by a pained breath from Danny or an attempted hum from Dani’s core. It was a painful drive and Dani tried to sleep to help time passed. It worked partially, she slept fitfully for about twenty minutes each rest but it helped her heal. By the time they had found themselves in the midmorning traffic into Gotham she was feeling much more herself.

Danny looked worse and his arm trembled from being kept in a tense position for so long. A thin sheen of sweat covered him and Dani opened to her mouth to say something only to slam it shut at the waves of panic suddenly rolling off Danny. 

The car had rolled to a stop as the traffic came to a standstill. Thankfully they were in the slowest lane and there was a hard shoulder on their right but it did little to comfort Danny’s mounting panic. He didn't want to stay still, he couldn't, they were in danger and needed to keep moving. 

“Hey, are you-” Dani was interrupted by an explosion. They both spun to see billows of smoke about twenty cars back and a familiar white van barreling down the hard shoulder. Danny sucked in a breath of air and hit the gas as he swerved into the hard shoulder himself. He pressed on the gas as they went, coming up on a motorcycle attempting to skip traffic. Dani reached over Danny’s shaking arms and slammed on the horn as they gained on the man in red. He glanced back and barely managed to crash out of the way before they ran him down. As they zoomed passed the poor guy Dani looked out her window to give him an apologetic wave. His helmet was weirder when she saw it close up, less like a motorcycle helmet and more like a mask but for his whole head. She gave him a wave and he stared after them. The white van careening after them and obstructing her view. 

Danny followed the hard shoulder until it turned to grass and he kept going. The grass turned into a ditch and he grit his teeth as he maneuvered his beloved car to keep going. Thankfully the car, even turned at an almost forty five degree angle still kept going, if only slower than he would have liked. The white van on the other hand, hit the ditch and flipped, crashing to a halt behind them. Dani watched people crawl out of the van and try to chase after them but even going slowly their car was still faster. Though a lucky shot shattered the back window.

They pulled the car back into traffic, receiving honks and rude gestures before they went deeper into the murky city. It was only another few minutes of driving before Danny found an empty, unkempt parking lot to stop in. He shot out of the car and ripped the back seat door off its hinges trying to get the backpack he had back there. Dani grabbed his phone, the leftover cash, portable charger, and jerky before joining him behind the car as he stuffed his knife, lighter and a blanket into his bag. She offered her stuff and he opened the bag for her. As soon as everything was in he zipped it shut and went to pick Dani up.

“Woah! No! You’re not carrying me. I can walk just fine.” She said, glaring at Danny as he looked back at her. His eyes didn't seem totally focused and she grabbed his hand instead. “If you need to hold on to me so bad you can hold this. Now lets go.” And she was off, dragging a clearly not ok Danny behind her. 

Did she know where she was going? No, but she would figure it out. Unlike Danny, she was used to finding places to sleep in unfriendly and unfamiliar cities. She could recognize safe places to stay. At least she was pretty sure she could.

~~

Gonna try and figure out how to do the Pt1 Pt2 links I actually have like four chapters(?) written cause i got sucked in last night