#gordy sees something

[technicallywrite]

Cosmosgate update 11 — Wake up and smell the accelerant

I'm doing the reasonable thing this week! No, not focusing on my day job, that would be silly. I mean, splitting a monster chapter into two well-balanced* parts.

So here is Chapter 11 of *that Cosmosgate fic*, aka part 1 of my spin on the Big Finish audio story UNIT: Assembled: Call to Arms (which you hopefully don't need to have listened to for this to make sense, but if you have/do it may enhance your experience). I originally planned to do the whole thing as a single chapter but my narrative ambition is once again proving too much, because I had to go shove some ship progression in there.

On the menu: a staff briefing, coffee with Gordy, revelations (because I can't effing help myself apparently), the beginnings of some actual action, and a rough helicopter ride for our favorite flight-averse scientist.

(* I don't know about well-balanced, since I've only written part 1 and I have a rough estimate for part 2, and historically that has meant very little -- anyway the point is this is mainly aspirational)

[saintaviator]

hey… oh my god… im in love with the way you draw gordon and barney your art made my day it’s so colorful and lively so cool!!!!

waauuuaauauau thank you …… sniffles….

tiny Barney 4 u anon. 🫶

[wildflowercryptid]

i'm sorry, but klara/gordie is so fucking funny. i just know they'd bring out the worst in each other and be so annoying, i love it more than anything.

[w0lfwren]

JUST CRIED OVER THE GORDY AND JUPE FIST BUMP!!!!!

[the-acid-pear]

Btw if you're a fan of the movie and you saw any of my criticism OR NOT I deeply encourage you to tell me why you love this movie and maybe counterpoint my takes. I'm so into getting a new perspective thru the eyes of a lover.

That said the fact that around 8 people saw me asking if I'd watch this movie and Fargo and everyone voted Fargo (of that group, like 2 went for nope) gives me such hope about the fans in the crowd. True lulyheads knew I was gonna hate it before I knew that. Wild.

[toyherb]

jesus christ turning down cecilia hurt

[millenianthemums]

i was thinking about how a lot of horror stories set in one location get the “why don’t they just leave” criticism, but in real life it isn’t usually that simple. even really mild reasons characters might have for not leaving or for going back to the scary place can make total sense sometimes. and i thought about OJ’s “i got mouths to feed” thing, about taking care of the horses.

but then i was like “well OJ didn’t JUST care about the horses, it was also about not wanting Jean Jacket to win. but yeah he cares a lot about the horses, it makes sense. and he’s not the type to make big heroic speeches anyway, he’s not showy like that.”

and then i realized something cool about OJ as a character. OJ not being showy, not caring about spectacle, is what sets him apart from everybody else in the movie. others see the spectacle, he sees the people and animals caught up in it. in his first scene the others want to hurry and film, but he sees the horse is stressed; if they’d listened to him and backed off, it wouldn’t have kicked. he tried to save the motorcyclist who was just yelling at him to get the camera before being eaten. he’s the kind of person who wasn’t around on the Gordy set, who knew when to stop pushing and listen before something bad happened.

He was the only one who realized not to look in Jean Jacket’s eye. He didn’t give in and look up at the spectacle in the sky. He kept his eyes low, and because of that he saw the ones on the ground who were suffering and wanted to help. He SAW the horses, he cared for them and he risked his life to save Lucky. He SAW his sister when their dad broke a promise to her for fame and money.

Emerald was the one who got the “money shot” of Jean Jacket and defeated it. i think that was important and good for her to do. Defeating this thing that had caused her so much pain, that had killed her father, her friends and maybe her brother. And in doing so she captured proof of what she and her friends went through, made sure that suffering wasn’t all for nothing. OJ helped it happen, he was behind the scenes staring down Jean Jacket while she escaped. But Emerald was in the spotlight at the end. She won.

But with all this in mind, I think it’s really beautiful that the final shot of the movie, the REAL money shot, wasn’t Jean Jacket. It wasn’t anything all that weird or spectacular. On the contrary, it was deeply familiar.

It was OJ, on a horse.

[mypoisonedvine]

𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 || william killick x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 || your husband sometimes gets carried away with his devotion to you...

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 || 3.7k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 || noncon/heavy dubcon smut (18+ only!!! rough sex, breeding kink, marking kink, hair pulling, praise and degradation, dark but the reader is lowkey into it lmaooo), jealousy and possessiveness, yandere vibes?, gaslighting/manipulation, established relationship, alcohol consumption

"Heavens, you look stunning!" Gordon announced when he saw you, opening his arms wide as an invitation for an embrace.  You only went in for a quick hug, but he grabbed you tight and kissed the top of your head as you laughed delightfully.  "Doesn't she look ravishing?  Don't I have excellent taste?"

The other ladies nearby nodded in agreement, hanging off of him like they tended to.  That was the way Gordon was: magnetic, for his personality just as much as his looks.  Blonde curls with light brown eyes and that megawatt smile… as long as you'd known him, he'd never had trouble with ladies— he just made trouble for them.

"Aren't I the greatest literary agent you ever had?" he asked you, and you rolled your eyes.

"You're the only I've ever had," you reminded him.  "You represented me when I was a teenage girl trying to sell my assignments from secondary school!"

"Yes, so I win by default," he decided with a big kiss to your cheek that made you scrunch up your nose.

"But that makes you the worst I ever had, too, doesn't it?" you noticed as Gordon relaxed his embrace to just an arm around your waist.

"See?" he prompted the nearby women, "Didn't I tell you?  Can't get anything past this one— sharp as a whip, she is—"

As you shrugged in dismissal of the praise, you looked around the room in awe of all Gordon had done for you now.  He had a taste for the extravagant, clearly; truth be told, it was nothing like you'd pictured it, and nothing like what you'd asked him for when he insisted on throwing a party.

"So, please, drink up, be merry, all of that," Gordon instructed his ladies, motioning out towards the crowded room, "get properly sloppy if you must— all in honour of this lovely woman right here… a genius of writing, and one of my longest and dearest friends."

As they departed in search of free drinks, you turned to Gordon with a nervous frown.  "I'm not sure this is really all for me, Gordy," you sighed.

"Of course it is," he chuckled heartily, "I told you I'd throw something to celebrate another year of us working together— I wanted to have a gala for your novel's first publishing, but you were too busy on the honeymoon then—"

You smiled just at the mention of your honeymoon.

"All these people, doll, they're here for you," Gordon assured.

"The people, maybe; but the evening wear, the drinks, the music, the glamour?  That's for you, isn't it?" you smirked.

But before he could respond to the accusation, his eyes fell somewhere at the other end of the room, and he turned you to look the same way.  "Speaking of people here for you…" he trailed off.

You perked up when you saw William, slipping through the crowds of people, already approaching you with his hat tucked under his arm.

"You came!" you squealed with excitement as you jumped towards your husband, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing his cheek.  "Oh, dear," you sighed when you saw that you'd printed berry-red lipstick on his cheek, starting to wipe it off with your fingers.

"I couldn't miss it, of course," he smiled at you, his voice so soft you barely heard it over the hustle and bustle of the party.

"They shouldn't have let you in," Gordon said, making you both look back at him.  "It's black tie only, you know."

William smiled slightly with his lips pressed together.  "He's only joking," you realised with an awkward mumble.

"The uniform seemed to go over alright," William replied, sticking his hand out towards Gordon for a shake.

"Oh, don't be so formal," Gordon laughed as he yanked William into rough side-hug.  "We know each other, don't we?"

"Sort of," William answered under his breath as Gordon put a heavy hand— adorned with golden decorative rings— on his shoulder.  

"Though I've half a mind to rough you up for convincing my star author to publish her next book under her married name," Gordon continued with a haughty laugh.  "She's already so established with the maiden name!"

"I didn't convince her of anything, I only married her," William defended.  

"Never thought you'd manage to tie this one down," Gordon smirked, "independent as she is."

"She didn't put up too much of a fight," William winked at you, and you felt a little flushed as you blinked quickly.

Apparently tired with that line of conversation, Gordon stood beside you and flipped it back to the real topic of the evening: your writing.

“She’s quite a prodigy!” Gordon exclaimed with a wide grin, wrapping an arm around you, then.  “You’ve read what she writes, haven't you?”

“Some of it,” William admitted with a nervous laugh, looking down for a moment.  “The rest is too sad for me, I’m afraid.”

“Her latest is a masterpiece,” Gordon assured.  “Forbidden love, secrets, affairs—”

“Sordid stuff,” William frowned, shaking his head.

“Sells, though,” Gordon winked.  “Men and women— we’re even selling copies in America!”

William only nodded, not seeming too convinced, and you deflated slightly as you reached out for your husband’s hand.  “Aren’t you proud of me?” you asked, sounding much more pathetic than you meant to.

“Of course, darling,” he smiled at you, “always.”

“You don’t mind if I borrow your lovely wife again, do you?” Gordon beamed.  “There’s some people over there she should meet— they might just sponsor the tour for her next novel.”

“All these book tours, I feel as if she’s hardly ever home,” William sighed.

“Well, we’ve got to keep her on the tours,” Gordon chuckled, “or that pretty face will go to waste!”

William’s jaw tightened as he nodded curtly in agreement, and you felt nervousness turning in your stomach.

“You should have a drink, soldier,” Gordon offered to lighten the obvious tension, handing William a wide glass of champagne.

He patted your husband a little too roughly on the back as he drank, before dragging you off to talk to some publishers or whatever— you glanced over to try to see your husband at the bar, hoping to catch him smiling at you, but you only caught his icy stare over the edge of his glass.

~

Enough liquor loosened you both up, and you managed to enjoy the party well into the hours of the night— it was almost one in the morning when you got home, yet you had a shocking amount of energy still coursing through you as you started to undress at the vanity.  It must’ve been all the people there, and knowing they were all celebrating you; it was electrifying, even as someone who preferred to be cooped up alone with her typewriter.

William leaned against the bedroom doorway as you shed your heels and stockings, then unpinned your hair.  When you saw him skulking on the reflection, you smirked to yourself, taking out one of your earrings.

“What’s the matter, love?” you asked sweetly, but he said nothing.  “Love?”

“I guess I’m not much of a partier,” he explained flatly.

You smiled a little, taking out your other earring and then reaching behind your neck to unclasp your necklace.  You didn’t even really notice the silence before it was broken.

“I don’t like the way he looks at you,” William said suddenly, and you scoffed— once you realised what he was talking about.

“He’s just that way,” you assured, “I don’t take it personally.”

“And all the talk of your genius, of your prodigious writing— that’s not personal?”

You shrugged slightly as you turned slightly and looked at him over your shoulder, smiling but knitting your brows together in confusion.  “Isn’t that why you married me?  I thought you liked the way people fawn over me.”

“But you know him,” William insisted again.  “You knew him before you even met me, you work with him— you spend long hours with him, when I’m gone—”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you laughed, standing up, but he only glared at you.  You tilted your head as you approached him.  “William, you couldn’t really think—”

“Don’t patronise me,” he sneered, and when you reached out to touch his face, he snatched you by the wrist and yanked you closer.

“William!” you scolded, whimpering as he moved his face close to yours, nostrils flaring as he breathed heavily through them.  “William, please—”

“Look at me,” he demanded, grabbing your face with his other hand.  “Look at your husband, darling.”

You bit your lip to suppress its shaking, meeting his fiery— yet cold— stare.  “You’re hurting me,” you whispered, tightening your hand into a weak fist as he held it painfully tight.

“I can see, you know,” he told you sharply and quietly through his teeth.  “I can see the way you laugh at his jokes, and let him pull you closer.  His hand on your hip—”

“It’s nothing, William,” you breathed, and his hand moved down from your face to your neck, then your chest, where he brushed his fingers over the neckline of your dress.

“Wearing the dresses he buys for you,” he noticed with a sneer.  “God, he’s got you looking like his fucking whore.”

He shoved you back and you tripped to land on the bed, hiding your face in fear and shame as he stalked towards you.

“Now you want to play innocent?” William spat as he towered over you.  “I told you to fucking look at me!”

“I can’t!” you sobbed, fighting when he grabbed your arms and tried to pry them apart, attempting to force you to turn onto your back.  “I can’t, William, not when you’re like this!”

“You made me like this!” he accused, eventually getting you to turn over so he could pin down your wrists on either side of your head.  “You made me like this,” he said again, voice lowered from shouting to a soft growl.  “You let him put his filthy fucking hands all over you, didn’t you?”

“No, William,” you denied, crying weakly as you shook your head.  “Never.  I love you— I love you more than anything.”

“But you won’t tell me the truth,” he snarled.  “The truth, darling, not another story— not another one of your goddamn stories!”

“He kissed me!” you admitted suddenly, and before you could explain, William roughly slammed his lips onto yours.  You whimpered into it, struggling against his tightening grip, and he pressed you down into the bed with the weight of his body.

“Tell me how it happened,” he demanded, lips still brushing against yours as he spoke, eyes still piercing through you.

“I swear, Will, I told him to stop,” you breathed, “I pushed him away.  I told him I love you, William— and I do, don’t you know how much I do?”

“He kissed you,” William repeated, rage tinting his voice.

“That’s all, I swear,” you promised.

“And you didn’t tell me—”

“I thought you’d get angry,” you defended weakly.

“You didn't tell your poor, doting husband,” he groaned, “your heartbroken husband—”

“I’m so sorry, William,” you whispered.

“Why didn’t you tell me, hm?  Because you love him?”

“No!  Fuck, no,” you cried.

“Because you considered it— because you thought about letting him make love to you?”

“No!” you shouted, but he suddenly put a hand over your mouth to muffle it.  When you stopped, stilling briefly as he looked down at you, he took his hand away and stroked your cheek with it.

“He must have forgotten,” William whispered under his breath, petting your face and acting oddly sweet.  “He must have forgotten that you… belong to me.”

You blinked quickly, shivering as he pressed a slow, short kiss to your lips.

“That these lips belong to me,” he continued with a sigh, “that this neck belongs to me—”

He kissed it, but brushed his teeth teasingly over your pulse.

“That every single, beautiful, perfect part of you,” he went on, hands running down over your chest and settling on your waist tightly, “belongs to me.”

He bit down harder on your neck and you whined.

“Did you forget too, darling?”

“William, you’ll leave marks,” you whimpered, “you’ll bruise me—”

“Good,” he purred, “then you can’t just take your ring off and act single, can you?”

“I never take off your ring, William,” you swore, “not even to bathe…”

“I still want my marks all over you,” he explained darkly, “I still want you bruised tomorrow.  I don’t just want them to know you’re married, darling— I want them to know how good I fuck you.  I want them to know that your husband fucks you.”

Suddenly his hands were at your dress, tearing it to shreds right down the front.

“And I want them to know,” he continued with a groan, “how much you love it.”

He flipped you over roughly, yanking you up by your hair until you were forced to scramble onto your hands and knees.  Your head dropped defeatedly when he let go of your hair, and he held your hips tightly with one hand as he opened his trousers with the other.

“W-wait,” you stammered, but he ignored you, reaching up under the tatters of your dress to yank your girdle and panties down.  Before you could beg for some mercy again he slammed into you, making you choke out a wavering cry; instantly he was fucking you hard and fast, making you shake all over and try to reach back to grab his hips so he might slow down.  “W-Will, love, please—” you whimpered helplessly.

“Fuck, if that son of a bitch could see you like this,” William sneered.  “If he could see you now— he’d know who you belong to, wouldn’t he?  If he could see you on your hands and knees, begging for me…”

He fucked you even harder— his hand reached up to hold onto your shoulder so you wouldn’t fall forward from the force of it.

“If he could see what a dirty little wife you are,” he groaned, digging his fingers into your skin— more marks, you were sure.  “Fuck, you’re soaking me already, darling.”

A whimper slipped from your mouth as he leaned down, holding you tightly and speaking right by your ear.

“You like it, don’t you?  Playing with me,” he hissed.  “You like driving your poor husband crazy, thinking you might be stepping out on him?”

You shook your head, choking on a moan as he slowed his movements to make sure every thrust reached as deep into you as possible.  “N-no, love, no—”

“You like how I fuck you when I’m angry, don’t you?” he went on anyways, biting the shell of your ear until your channel clenched around him.  “Is that what got you so wet, darling?”

Biting your lip to hide your moans, you held tighter onto the sheets beneath you, and one of his hands came down to wrap around yours.

“So sweet,” he cooed, “such a sweet little wife.  You look so innocent, darling, they have no idea what a slut you are— none of them do, but fuck… they will.”

He sped up again and you whined loudly; the pain and the pleasure together made your legs shake, hardly able to hold you up on the bed.  He snatched one of the nearby pillows and shoved it under your hips— it kept them up when he began to fuck you so hard that you fell forward, and the angle hit just right inside you as a desperate scream was muffled by your face falling into the sheets.

"Yes, there she is," he praised, "my whore wife— how she loves to be fucked, reminded of her place.  This is your place, isn't it?  In my bed, sweet cunt taking my cock?  Not out with that awful man— not on those godforsaken book tours—"

When you tried to reach back to keep him from going too deep again, he grabbed your wrists and pinned them back beside your face as he kept thrusting even faster, making the whole bed bounce and shake.

"You can take it all, darling," he promised with a groan, "you can fit your husband inside, all the way— fuck, you're so beautiful like this.  You're so perfect, my angel…"

He buried his face in your neck as he thrusted into you, his own moans rivalling yours while he kissed your neck and ear and shoulder.  

No one could accuse your husband of lacking passion, even if they didn’t see him like this— which you really hoped they didn’t.  From the very beginning, he’d pursued you fervently: he read one of your short stories, and wrote rather effusive fan mail to the magazine in which it was published.  And then when he came to your publisher’s office hoping to meet you, he took one look at you and became properly obsessed.  He insisted you were the love of his life… and before you’d even really gotten to know him!  You were nearly offended at first; but the longer his seduction went on, the more you couldn’t help but fall for him.  Strong yet tender, kind yet stern, intelligent yet sensitive… and creative, much more than you expected.  He had quite an imagination.

Unfortunately, that imagination had a dark side, especially with his tendency to be quite jealous.  It had never gone this far before, though.

He pulled out of you, only a moment of relief and disappointment, before turning you onto your back and hovering over you.  “Look at me,” he demanded again, though his voice was low and gentle now, “look up at me, beautiful.”

He tilted your chin up with two fingers, admiring the tears in your eyes with a tender sort of expression.

“Oh, my darling,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss your neck as he slowly pushed back inside you.  Your back arched and he slipped one arm under it to hold you tightly as he set a more careful pace than before— though still not all that slow.  "My beautiful girl— you can't help it, can you?  The way men feel about you."

A slightly deeper thrust made you gasp and reach up to hold his shoulders, blinking through the watering in your eyes.

"Of course he kissed you," he breathed, "if you were another man's wife, I'd kiss you too.  I'll always have to have you, darling, nothing could stop me."

"I pushed him away, love," you swore again.

"I know, I know," he cooed.  "But I still can't stand to think of it… of my darling wife being kissed by someone else.  He would've only done that if he thought you'd kiss him back, you know— he thought you would let him fuck you."

He picked up his pace, staring deep into your eyes and gripping you tightly.

“When you’re pregnant, then he’ll know,” William announced proudly as he held your hips.  “Then everyone who sees you will know: you fucking belong to me.”

Overwhelmed by it, you felt yourself get even hotter and slicker between the legs at the idea of that.  He was wrong about you wanting to make him jealous, but neither of you could deny now that you got some gratification out of it.

“Say it,” he ordered.

“I belong to you,” you promised, “I’m yours— you know I’m yours, love, always—”

He hummed in agreement, pumping deeper and faster into you as your head spun.  “You’ll be the most beautiful expectant wife there ever was,” he purred, a rough hand tugging your bra out of the way and groping your breasts.  “These nice and full— all of you swollen and soft—”

“W-William,” you stammered, hardly able to breathe with his weight on you and the way he filled you.

“Big belly,” he cooed, “and my baby inside— our baby.  Fuck, how can I wait to see you like that?”

“F-fuck,” you choked out, “don’t stop, please… please, my love—”

“I’ll fill you, darling,” he promised lowly, baring his teeth as you started to fall into it— your head tilting back into the mattress, pleasure overtaking you, your fingers digging into his shoulders.  “I’ll give you everything I have, every night, until it takes—”

“Please,” you begged, holding him tighter and lifting your face up with what little energy you had to bury it in his shoulder.  You cried from the intensity of it all— from everything— as shudders wracked your body.  He groaned as he felt you pulsing around him, kissing your face and groaning beside your ear.

“What a good little wife,” he praised as you came, “what a perfect little wife— you want it, don’t you?  To be pregnant, have my child?”

You barely managed to nod, you were so overcome by every sensation running through you.  But you did, and he growled proudly.

“You will, my angel,” he promised, “I’ll make sure of it.  Just say one more time that you love me, darling— that you’ll always be mine—”

“I-I love you so much, William,” you swore, muffled in the jacket that you clutched needily.  “I’m yours— I’m always yours— oh!”

You lost track of your words, but it didn’t matter then because you were drowned out by his gasps: heavy, low breaths as he pressed into you one last time and filled you completely.

Instantly, you were flooded with even more emotions: shame, ecstasy, confusion, hurt, love.  It was too much to take even if you weren’t still slightly tipsy and entirely sleep-deprived, but altogether it just turned you into a mess.

After coming down from his high— though he was still catching his breath— William seemed to sober up in a second as you cried harder.  Cooing gently at you, he wrapped his arms tighter around you and hugged you close.

“I’m sorry, darling,” he breathed as he held you tightly, “I’m so sorry.  You know it’s just my love that makes me this way— I just can’t stand to see another man lay his hand on you… I just can’t imagine you with anyone else, it breaks my heart, darling.”

“You break my heart, William,” you whispered back, still hiding in his shoulder, “when you think I could ever hurt you like that.  When you accuse me of something like that—”

“I just get scared, darling,” he sighed, petting your back slowly as he rocked you in his arms.  “I just get scared that you’re too good to be true.  That this beautiful creature can’t be all mine.”

You smiled against his skin, holding onto him tighter.  “I love you so much, William… I’d never— you have to believe me, I’d never—”

“Shh,” he soothed softly, as he held your head and kissed the top of it.  “I know, darling, I know.  Because you belong to me.”

[wilwheaton]

I hadn't seen that Lego image before. The "crying Wesley" annoys me. Big, goofy, Boimler-esque grinning Wesley would have been great, as I always remembered the character being excited and enthusiastic.

I was of the age that Wesley was my audience identification character. I preferred when he was more complex and interestingly flawed in later seasons, but I always wanted to be more like him.

I'm sorry that you endured all of that crap over the years. It's REALLY not fair to you, and I can imagine how tedious it must be. But I'm glad that you were part of TNG, I was always thrilled when you made guest appearances after leaving as a regular, and I love much of your work after your work in later years (Chaos 4EVER!).

So yes, there are many of us that loved Wesley. Especially us fellow Gordies. Thanks for doing what you do and have done, even (and especially) when it's been really hard.

You are so right! Thank you. I would love to see him with that level of enthusiasm.

I have this fan fiction idea where Wesley goes to the Cerritos, and all he wants is for Mariner to think he's cool, because they went to academy together.

Meanwhile, Boimler is just BESIDE himself that Wesley, who knows and works with a lot of Boimler's heroes, is on the ship. So he keeps interrupting Wesley, and somehow Wesley really steps in it.

Boimler feels badly about it, so he just nerds out REAL HARD at Wesley about something, and it speaks so loudly to Wesley's inner nerd, they end up on a major science project together that OF COURSE saves the Cerritos.

And at the end of it, when Wesley is about to leave, and he thinks he's impressed Mariner, she just ROASTS him in the most hilarious way possible. I haven't figured out what it is, yet.

ROLL CREDITS.

[pynkgothicka]

ＸＳ ＫＳＪ

Pairing - Jupe! Dark! Kim Seokjin x AFAB! Reader

Synopsis-Based off NOPE, you and your friend visit a new attraction called Jupiter's Claim, and a grown up child actor begins to fall for you. Part One of the Movies Series

Featuring - Megan Fox

Word Count - Around 2k

Tags and Warnings - Kidnapping, Allusions to Death

Authors Note - While studying the movie and pulling what I wanted, Steven Yuen was looking FARRRR TEW FINE. Also cried at the end, the unknown is scaryyyy

A friendly reminder that all my works are dark fanfiction! Please if you do not like that do not read them! These depictions don't pertain to reality. This is your final warning before hitting the keep reading button!!

You hated RV parks.

You felt trapped at Megan's make-up artist job. The only benefit you had was being able to be around the horses they had brought in regularly. You stood by one in particular, Lucky, and next to .him was a quiet man, who you learned his name was Oj.

You knew better than to not bother him as he seemed on edge, but you liked being around Lucky. You would pet her mane, and just like being around her.

Soon however, Megan finally had her things together and motioned towards you. Letting out a sigh you wave towards Oj. “Bye, thanks for letting me hang out with you.”

“It’s nothin’.” He mumbled singling you off with a hand gesture.

“You like him or something?” Megan said walking next to you as you guys walked to her RV. You laugh her off slightly shoving her.

“Nah, I liked Lucky though. Oj was pretty chill, he just kind of let me be around. Guess I wasn't pestering him like the rest of that crew…” You deduct making your way inside her RV. You had your own space, in which you settled in. You dropped down on your bean bag exhausted. “Besides didn’t you want to go to that attraction or something?”

“Jupiters Claim? Of course, I paid good money for it, so you can bet your candy ass we’re going to see what's there.” You groan at Megan's want to go to some random attraction. You honestly rathered the RV at that point.

“Fine, just let me rest before we head out. You know I hate being out there in the sun like that.” You complain. Megan lets out a small squeal as she tackles you onto your small bean bag.

“Thanks! I could just kiss you right now!”

“Mhmm, the things I do for you.”

🏇

Walking into the attraction you were quickly put off. The old-time Western theme wasn't appealing to you at all. But from what Megan had told you on the way there, she wasn't there for the actual attraction. “I’m telling you, that kid Jupe, from Gordies Home, he owns this place.” Megan raves leading you towards the back of the attraction up towards the staircase to the main office. “I paid good money to see his memorabilia and talk to him.”

“Why not use it for something valuable, like a nice piece of jewelry or something?” You say walking behind her as she opens the door.

“Because I had extra money lying around and well I wanted to spend it.” Walking inside you were greeted by two people, one of them being a lady in a baby blue dress, cowboy hat, and boots complete the look. She stood talking on the phone and Megan tapped on the class making a motion towards the back door.

The lady smiled and gave a thumbs-up before getting back on the phone. Megan led you into the back office space. Sitting behind the desk was a man in a white top, obviously fitting the western aesthetic. His hair was black and slicked back, lips curving into a sweet smile. “Megan right?” He asked looking at her and shaking her hand.

Then his eyes turn to look into yours. He stood in a daze looking at you.

You give him an awkward smile and take his hand. He shakes his head and takes your hand in a firm grasp. “Sorry, I should’ve said something about bringing her around,” Megan begins clearing her throat. Even she could tell it was awkward. “She's cool people trust me.” Jupe seemed to be in his own world before finally pulling away.

“Oh it's fine, you know I don't usually let people bring others around, but just this once I'll let it slide.” He says laughing. He steps from behind the desk and puts a hand on the small of your back to move past you. You jump and look at him, Jupe giving you a smirk before continuing to move past you.

Megan smiles laughing along with him. “Trust me she's like a tag along, real chill.”

He smiles turning to look at you. “Let's just hope you’re a real Gordies Home lover.”

“Trust me, I’m really not.” You say laughing awkwardly. You really wanted to leave already.

🏇

Once his tour was over you felt weird about it all. Megan was ecstatic though, finally coming one step closer to one of her special interests. She asked questions the entire time, while you stood at the door pensive.

Megan then dismissed herself to take a call. This left you inside with Jupe. “So, are you usually traveling with her while she does makeup?” He asks as you stand near the window peering outside, watching Megan. You turn around nodding at him.

“No, I just tagged along when she invited me.” You say before speaking up again. “Listen I’m sorry if she was just being a lot in there. She's my friend but I know you have feelings and all.” You say looking at him. He seemed to be lost in his own world before snapping back to reality.

He blows out smiling. “It's right really, thanks for caring though. But let's not focus on that. What do you do for a living?” He said standing up and laughing, making his way closer to you.

You laugh with him awkwardly. “A horse jockey. Yeah, I mean when I saw some of the horses you guys had, I was excited. Like a way to be committed to the western theme.” You ramble on leaning by the window. You really just kept talking to not focus on how close he was getting towards you.

He nodded smiling towards you and sat on his desk, his body close to yours. “Yeah, I know a ranch where I get them, real quiet bunch… I bet you’d like that wouldn’t you?” He said looking at you.

“Like what?”

“You don't seem to fit the whole being a side character to Megan's story. Like just look at you, you’re just gorgeous.” Jupe rambled leaning in. You leaned back as he got closer. “I think honestly you’d like it here. I can make you a star ya’ know.”

You tilted your head shaking it at him. “Listen Jupe-”

“Jin. The name is Jin.”

“Jin, I’m not really interested in whatever you’re trying to do. I’m just here because I want to support my friend.” You say putting your hands out to put some space between the both of you. “I’m not here for my claim to fame moment.” Jin shakes his head, pursing his lips together.

“You sure you don’t want more than what you have? You never even considered all you could have is someone, who gave you a chance at getting it?” He rambled. His hand went back as he grabbed a stapler on his desk. “I can make you happy… happy with me.”

Seeing him go for it you ducked as he first swung it. Your back hit one of the walls, your hand trying to stop the blow. But that failed as you instead injured your wrist. You held onto it losing your grip on the wall. “Get the fuck away from- AH!” You’re cut off by the stapler hitting your head. You see a bright light before you officially are knocked out.

Jin let out a deep breath as he dragged you into his memorabilia room. Jin closed the door, locking it, but not before making sure you were knocked out. Just around then, Megan comes back inside looking around. “Sorry, did she leave or something?” She asked looking around. Jin nodded going to sit back behind his desk.

“Yeah, she said she had a headache or something. Talked about going back to you guys RV.” He said snidely. “Did she not tell you before leaving?”

“No… Thank you once again, I'll head back now.”

🏇

He kept you in that room for weeks.

Only just recently were you moved out from there, and put in one of his set dressing houses.

He preached about falling for you and wanting to spend his days with you. Laying with you late at night, his hands around your waist. He laid kisses on your neck as he would tell you sweet nothings, yet what was even more messed up was that the entire time you were chained to the foot of the bed.

Of course, the chain had some length but still, you felt as if it was fruitless to escape. But you didn’t dare stay locked up forever. Especially after he told you Megan filed a missing persons report for you and had been asking around for and about you.

She even decided to go to his live show just to get her mind off things.

So you began walking and dragging the bed as you walked around the home. The bedframe would hit the door and you pulled at it hoping to snap off the leg the chain was hooked to. You kept doing it until it was the day.

The day of Jins live show.

Jin stood in front of you showing off his tailored suit. “Do you like it my Star?”

You hated that nickname.

“Yeah, I-It’s amazing… It’s really fancy.” You replied feeding into his decisions. Jin smiled and kissed your lips. Before standing up and heading for the door.

“Be safe okay, after this I’ll be back, and Amber will be gone.” He smiled wickedly walking out and locking the door. She was one of the reasons he moved you here. He wanted you away from his wife, who obviously hated you. You could've sworn whenever you did have to stay trapped in his office, that she tried to poison you more times than once.

But that's beside the point.

You heard the sounds of people, music everything. You spent that day continuing on your escape. You finally pulled off the leg and started banging a heavy piece of the chain on the doorknob.

The loud PA system made you speed up as you growled slamming the chain on the knob. The incessant drone of Jin talking acts as background noise to what you are focused on.

“And so, as I said, in just under an hour, ‘The Star Lasso Experience’ is gonna change you.“

CLANG!

“Stay in your seats. So that was new. They’re early...”

CLANG!

You let out a loud fuck as you cry out.

Then you hear it.

Screaming.

You stop what you're doing as the wind blows in the distance, the same amount of distance as you hear the screams. It's droning and you stop what you're doing to cover your ears, your head hurting at the sound. You wait as it all goes away before you put down the chain realizing you were probably in a life-or-death situation. With one final kick, you knock the door down.

Looking around you see that Jupiter's Claim is a mess. You couldn’t even begin to figure out what happened. But you begin to clamber away, your body hurting as you do so. You hadn’t moved like this in a while.

You make eye contact with a man. It hits you exactly who it is, Oj.

He stares at you too in shock. “Help…” Was all you could muster up to say to him. He makes a motion for you to follow him and you do. You speed up getting into the truck as he grabs Lucky.

“Just get me the fuck out of here now.”

Let me know through a dm or ask to be included in my official Taglist- @darkuni63 @captainengineer-trixie @chimmisbae @iloverubberduckiez-blog @mageprincess7 @looneybleus @whipwhoops @mayvalentine33

[auroravictorium]

unraveling (k.b.)

"My head is clearly muddied, and I'm so sick of coming undone." - Aeroplane Bathroom by Gordi

Summary: when a plague claims reader's sister's life, the news is delivered in the form of a letter; when she distances herself from everyone and hides the news, kaz fears that something serious is going on until she confesses what happened. Pairing(s): kaz x fem!reader (established relationship - they've been together for a while, so kaz feels comfortable being somewhat close to her) Word Count: ~2.6k Warnings: loss of a sister, heavy mentions of grief, mentions of a plague, brief violence (reader strangles someone) Genre: hurt/comfort Request? Yes (@morrigan-crowmwell)

Author's Note: i'm baaaaaaack and FINALLY on break!! i hope you all enjoy this (not so) little hurt/comfort work - i promise i'm following up with a fluffy one soon :))

It started with a letter a low-level Dreg delivered while the Crows gathered to plan a job.

He passed it to you with a murmur in your ear, and with furrowed brows, you flipped it over to see the return address. It was scrawled in the corner, a few letters missing or blurred together in the author's haste to send the missive, whatever it was. Kaz knew from the surprised look on your face that you recognized the address, but the expression disappeared before the rest of the Crows could notice or Kaz could evaluate it further. 

"I'll be right back," you said quietly, rising from your seat next to Kaz and disappearing into the relative privacy of his room. Had you known its contents, you would have gone to your room a floor down and opened it privately.

When you returned, you seemed unaffected to everyone but Kaz. He noticed the troubled purse of your lips, the way you fought to keep a neutral mask in place. You avoided his gaze as you sat back down, and you hardly contributed to the rest of the meeting, your eyes on the now-crumpled envelope in your hand.

In the two weeks since the letter arrived, you had withdrawn. You didn't visit Kaz in his office, you didn't take shots with Jesper at the Club, and you weren't seen outside your room unless necessary.

When the day for the next job came, you were uncharacteristically sloppy. What should have been an easy in-and-out theft of bank information on a close potential associate of the Dime Lions was nearly botched; knocking the guards unconscious took you longer than it should have, and you almost missed the correct papers in the target's desk. When you found them, the guards were beginning to stir again, and the Stadtwatch were en route.

"What happened today?" Kaz hissed, shutting his bedroom door behind him with a firm click. He leaned his cane against the wall and shed his coat and hat, hanging them on a hook haphazardly nailed into the wall.

You didn't respond, dropping the rolls of parchment onto the crooked table in the corner. The letters of your parents' note to you swam in your vision, and you could still feel the guards' pulses slowing beneath your fingertips as you choked them into unconsciousness. Your eyes burned, and you refused to face Kaz, instead crossing to his window and sitting on the bench beneath it. You wanted to be anywhere else.

If you didn't look at him, you wouldn't have to see or bear his disappointment and anger. And if you didn't see it, you could indulge in the numbness that was easier to feel than grief. It settled over you like a coat soaked by rain: heavy, but at least it protected you from the worst of the weather.

The consequences of your indifference would rip your temporary armor from you and push you into a cold, harsh reality. Your sister was gone, a life taken by a plague brought by an unwelcome merchant to your small town. It was a truth you weren't willing to face yet. So numbness it was, even as Kaz and the letter burning in your pocket urged you to confront your grief.

"Y/N," Kaz said, watching as you seemed to go somewhere else right in front of him. What happened? What did that letter contain? His anger about the job dissipated, and worry rose in its place as you refused to even look at him. 

He dragged a chair away from the crooked table and settled beside you, stretching out his right leg to ease the ache. You didn't acknowledge him moving closer, your eyes locked on the crows pecking outside Kaz's window. 

Some said crows were messengers from beyond, intermediaries between the lost and the living. You scoffed at the notion once, the same way you brushed off the idea of Saints looking over you.

That was before you lost someone. Now, a tiny part of you hoped it was true so you could say goodbye to something. Even a damned bird.

Kaz brushed your knuckles with his gloved hand to get your attention. His eyes scanned your face, so carefully arranged in a facade of neutrality. But there were cracks in it; the wobbling of your bottom lip, how your eyes seemed to shimmer as tears brimmed in them.

Sick and selfish as it was, Kaz wondered if that letter had something to do with him. Was it a warning for her to get away? Was it a threat to her life? Was it a detailed list of every awful, heartless thing Kaz had ever done, making her fear him and regret joining the Dregs?

"What's going on?" Kaz said quietly. His earlier anger was gone, replaced by a worry that ripped away the cloak of numbness you'd shrouded yourself in. Just as you suspected would happen.

His concern left you unshielded and exposed to the tempest of grief you'd tried so desperately to ignore, to push away until it left you alone. Now, your numbness was darkening, like storm clouds rolling over the harbor and promising havoc on the city. It twisted and roiled until it was no longer numbness but the all-consuming feeling of loss.

You wished you could hide from Kaz just so he couldn't see the tears beginning to slide down your cheeks. They were hot and salty and dripped down your neck, and you wiped them away as if you could conceal them. "Don't," you said hoarsely. "Don't ask me that." Maybe he would leave it be, and you could hide again for a while longer.

But it was Kaz. He watched you unravel before him and knew he couldn't leave it be. He wouldn't.

"What did the letter say?" he pressed. Usually, he didn't push you to share your secrets. Saints knew he had his own that he refused to reveal. But he couldn't watch you fracture before him and not know what was happening, especially if he could do something to fix it.

You knew Kaz wouldn't relent until you answered. Numbly, you took the letter from your pocket and held it out, still looking out the window at the crows. They were hopping around one another, picking at the remnants of seeds Kaz had thrown out for them the day prior. 

Kaz took the letter from your fingers and looked down at it, taking in the tear stains blurring the scribbles across the page. Still, the short message was decipherable, and Kaz suddenly understood. As he read those words, he was nine years old again, grieving the loss of his brother and watching birds pick up scraps of food and trash from the streets. Kaz knew precisely what you were feeling, down to the weight on your chest that threatened to crush your lungs.

"I'm sorry," Kaz said quietly. He took your hand and brushed his thumb over the back of your knuckles. This was one of the times when Kaz wished to be close to you. He longed to hug and hold you until sleep came, so you could get a short respite from the grief and know you weren't alone. "I'm so sorry, Bluebird."

His words broke your composure completely. The tender nickname ripped a sob from your throat, and you covered your mouth with your free hand to muffle the sound. You hunched over and hid your face in your knees, losing sight of Kaz and the birds and the world around you as the currents swept you away. You broke your hand free from his, curling in on yourself as you finally let yourself cry before him.

Hesitantly, Kaz moved from his chair to the open side of the bench. He swallowed, forcing away the nagging terror that rose as he gently pulled you into him. Kaz wrapped his arms around your shoulders and held you against his chest, letting you hear his racing heartbeat. It wasn't the smoothest or most confident hug, and he fought hard to battle the discomfort of having you pressed against him like this. But he was trying. If it eased your pain for even a moment, he'd bear the cold harbor lapping at his flesh and the memories of floating bodies tugging at his mind.

It meant more to you than you could tell him, and you couldn't bring yourself to question whether he was sure about this. Instead, you threw your arms around his torso and buried your face in his chest. He was warm and here and alive, and he was everything you needed right then as the dam exploded and any semblance of being okay disappeared. You sobbed into his vest as the truth came crashing down on you, crushing your lungs and making your head throb from the pain of trying to process it.

You weren't sure how long you cried. Somewhere between those initial moments of Kaz's arms around you and when you could finally catch your breath, the sun disappeared, and the stars emerged from behind the clouds. Turning your head to rest your ear against Kaz's heart, you blearily looked out the dirty window; above the clocktower in the distance was the brightest star in the sky. In your exhausted mind, you imagined it was your sister. That brought you more comfort than the legend about crows. She would've hated being a bird.

Somehow, in the warmth of Kaz's arms and with those words in your mind, you drifted into an uneasy sleep. Everywhere your dreams turned, there were crows. Sometimes your sister's laughter replaced their squawking. They dropped bright tulips on a fresh grave before flying away, their wings beating against the cloudy sky.

Kaz thought you had to be uncomfortable with the windowsill pressing into your back and your legs curled up at a strange angle. He carefully shifted, sliding one of his arms under your knees and the other around your shoulders. Then, Kaz stood and carried you over to his tiny bed. You stirred as he set you down and tucked his threadbare blanket around you. He held his breath, hoping you wouldn't wake, and he slowly let it out once you lapsed into stillness once more.

He stayed nearby as you slept, settling on the bench and looking over the city. When his eyes started drooping, he shook himself awake. When that didn't work, he grabbed a book and forced himself to read about Kerch's history.

As the night reached its darkest point and the East Stave reached its most raucous, you stirred into consciousness again. Your eyes were swollen from crying, and your head pounded. Yet the smell of Kaz, all smoke and rum and something rich, enveloped you and soothed you enough that you weren't severely bothered by your physical discomfort. 

You slowly sat up and scooted back against the wall, trying to shake off some of the heaviness lingering over you. Kaz lifted his head from where it was bent over the book in his hands and straightened up when he saw you were awake.

"Hi," he said softly. He closed his book and swung his legs off the bench. "How did you sleep?"

"Poorly." You crossed your legs and looked everywhere but at his face. This was what you'd hoped to avoid. This tense air between the two of you, the result of your inability to keep your shit together until you got to the privacy of your own room. You felt weak, unworthy of being a Crow. You wished the numbness would overtake you again.

Guilt joined the lineup of emotions, and you looked down at your hands. You were lucky they weren't stained with your friends' blood.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Though Kaz's tone wasn't accusatory, you flinched away from it. 

"I didn't want to burden you." You thought you'd be able to grieve in private without worrying the Crows or disrupting a job. Clearly, that wasn't the case; everything reminded you of your sister.

"You're not a burden to me," he said firmly. He understood your words and reasoning all too well, and he hated that he did. But you weren't a burden on him, the same way you never treated him or his failures in your relationship as such. To you, his struggle to touch you wasn't a failure. To him, your grief wasn't a burden. 

Kaz wished you would treat yourself with the same kindness you gave to him.

You kept your gaze fixed on your hands, even as his words caused your cheeks to flush. It took all your self-control to keep tears from brimming in your eyes; you couldn't tell whether they were from sadness or how he said the words as if they weren't up for debate. Like he didn't question the truth in them.

"When I was young, I lost my brother," Kaz admitted. His voice was quiet and suddenly seemed very far away. Your head lifted, and you looked at him in surprise. Kaz didn't notice, and his eyes focused on the Dekappel portrait across the room.

"He died of the Queen's Lady Plague. I got it soon after." He shuddered. He could still remember the feeling of the fever as it immobilized him, weakened him until he couldn't swim and had to use Jordie to get to shore. "There was nothing I could do, and I was alone in the city after that." His gaze finally turned to yours. "But you aren't alone. You have people who understand." I understand. "And you aren't a burden on me, so talk to me. The Crows, the Club, the Dime Lions, they can wait." 

Kaz hoped that you understood the words he wanted to say. You're more important than all of them.

Your bottom lip wobbled, and you slid out of his bed and crossed over to him. You sat beside him and took his hand, though you longed to throw your arms around him again. That was a level of physical contact he needed to initiate.

"Thank you," you whispered. Your eyes shimmered in the moonlight with more tears, and you wiped them away before resting your head on his shoulder to hide your face. You clasped his hand in both of yours and felt him lace his fingers with yours to comfort you. "I want to throw a tulip in the harbor for her tomorrow." Your voice cracked, and you swallowed before continuing. "It was her favorite flower."

"As soon as the sun rises," Kaz promised. He wished he had a gesture to offer for his brother, but Kaz Brekker wasn't known for sentimentality. It wasn't his style.

You lifted your head and wiped away a traitorous tear with the palm of your hand. "We'll bring a flower for your brother, too," you said quietly, watching Kaz's face. Was it too much to suggest? It felt wrong to not offer after he opened up to you.

Kaz's throat tightened, and he turned to look down at you. "That sounds nice." His eyes softened at the earnestness on your face, and he gently squeezed your hand to thank you.

Your shoulders loosened in relief, and you rested your head on his shoulder again, turning your eyes toward the Dekappel on the wall and watching as the moon's rays darkened the rich oil paint. The room was silent, but there was no need to fill it. Instead, you let yourself think of your sister and her tulips.

You'd start to knit yourself back together come morning.

TAGLIST: @tonberry-yodaa, @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r, @futurecorps3, @statsvitenskap, @sapphiccloud, @casualladyinternet, @d34drapunzel, @noctemys, @whitejxsmine, @so6, @franzelt

[merci-bitch]

hi!! If you do write for kate stewart, id love to see either a story with her or headcanons like youve done with other characters! Do you have any recommendations for good writers with Kate?

have a great day/night! Xx

Hi! Sure! If you have any request I’d give it a go! For now, I’ll do a headcanon and leave the best to write for her 😅

And there are many who are great writers when it comes to the Kate Stewart fics, but I personally recommend @kinglivv and @iamnotoriginalphil ! I think they are really great! You should definitely check them out.

Warnings are the usual, and not my gif!

- Kate is a generous lover

- Almost to say that she’s perhaps a little careful

- She’s got two kids, Gordy and Charlotte

- (In my head she’s a girlmum)

- She’s a divorcee

- So she doesn’t want to drag her children through another breakup with someone

- You’re special

- From the moment you met you were special

- Now you could either work at UNIT or not

- If you do work at UNIT, you then later work alongside Donna when she joined

- If you’re a part of UNIT, you have been for a while

- You’d seen her fly up the ranks to become to now head of UNIT

- You’d always had a good relationship with Kate

- Good friends and same sense of humour

- It was only natural that something more was going to happen between the two of you

- She asked you out for dinner first

- She hesitated, not only because you’re younger but because she doesn’t want to ruin your friendship and because she’s your boss

- You got close quick, but she was still hesitant

- Eventually she opened up and let her walls down

- Her children adore you, and that was the final straw for her walls to finally crumble completely

- She loves you deeply

- If you don’t work at UNIT, she’s not allowed to speak of her work obviously, but she always tries to keep you safe from harm when something does happen, even if she can’t tell you

- You’re her rock

- Even if you don’t work at UNIT, she comes home after a rough day or week to you and instantly feels slightly better

- Your scent is very calming to her

- You could be cooking and she’d come up behind you for a short hug and breathe you in before stepping away

- She isn’t much for PDA, specially not at work, but home she can’t help but leave small touches and she sometimes kisses your head in passing, not very often but sometimes

- Home Kate is your favourite Kate

- She wears her glasses more often

- Drinks tea

- Wears jeans and normal shirts, not her usual outfit

- Is a wine person, but wouldn’t say no to a beer

- Outstanding bridge player

- Gardner 101

- Her little garden is her heaven

- It’s beautiful and well cared for

- Loves baths, specially with you

- She smells of vanilla

- She’s a great cook

- Loves experimenting in the kitchen, she just doesn’t always have the time

- Has tailored clothes so doesn’t really like to share but if she finds you in one of her t-shirts she wouldn’t be too upset

- Wears heels all day so coming home to you willingly giving her a foot massage is heaven

- She likes to dance

- But rarely does it

- At Gordy’s birthday party she’d a little too much to drink and let loose on the dance floor

- You like to tease her about it

- She thinks it’s dreadful

- When it comes to secrets outside the job she’s absolutely terrible at keeping them

- For example, you tell her what you got Gordy for Christmas, she accidentally tells him

- Her children tell her they are surprising you with something you’ve wanted for a while

- She accidentally blurted it out one evening

- She’s terrible at keeping secrets like that

- So when Christmas or birthdays come around the corner, you’re the gift buyer and she doesn’t know what it is you buy until the gifts are opened

- So she’s just as surprised as her children

- She’s very serious about her work and in some way it comes first

- She’s responsible for many things and she can’t just leave at the same time every day

- You have to respect that or it wouldn’t work

- Kate feels lucky you do respect it

- You know of the Doctor

- You’ve met him

- He thinks your relationship with Kate is funny, but in a good way

- She’s always so well pulled together and strong, he finds it funny she’s with someone so loose and fun like you

- When the events of the toymaker happens and they turn off her zeedex, she attacks you as well

- She doesn’t mean what she said, and she feel awful

- Guilty

- She’s very quiet when you get home

- She doesn’t exactly cry about it but she’s very careful Incase she really hurt you with what she said

- You reassuring her that it’s alright, and that you know it wasn’t really gives her some form of comfort but she still feels guilty

- She’s quite a private person

- Keeps work and her private life separate

- Even if you work at UNIT she tries to separate the two

- She has such huge responsibilities at work, she likes to come home and just be Kate

- Donna likes to tease you about Kate

- Makes all bunch of comments that leave you flustered and leaving with a blush on your cheeks

- Kate isn’t one for the dominant role in the bedroom but she has figured out that there’s some things you do like

- Like for example, Kate has a low voice, and she lowers it even further to tease you because she knows what it does to you

- Slowly backing you up against the wall in the hallway, leaning down and whispering things in your ear only to walk away and act like nothing happened

- She’s obviously taller than you

- She’s 5’8 without heels

- She’s very caring in the bedroom

- Always makes sure you’re comfortable with what’s happening

- She has clear boundaries and if you respect them and her job the way she respects you

- There’s no trouble at all

- You mean a lot to her, and to her children

- She’s not too keen on getting married again but Gordy has talked to her about it

[gumnut-logic]

“They did what?!”

Pete took a step back. “Hey, man, they’re fine. The teachers broke it up.” A snort. “Though I have to say, your little brothers know how to kick ass. I don’t think Bullneck is going to walk straight for a while. Gordon may have taken out his chances at fatherhood.” I had been quite a sight seeing that dickwad waddle off with the principal.

“Where are they now?”

Pete took a step back as Scott straightened. His friend had been out of town all day with cadets. Still in uniform, he cut a definite military vibe.

Was it weird that he’d asked Pete to keep an eye on his four brothers? Possibly, but then Pete only had two sisters, both older and all into make up and boys. He shuddered inside. It would be so cool to have a little brother.

Apparently having four was an extra challenge.

“They’re with the principal.” And Pete found himself having to skedaddle backwards as Scott shot off in the direction of the main school building.

Oh shit.

Pete grabbed his bag, and hurried after him. “Scott! They’re fine. Virgil had it under control.” Was that a scoff? A grunt? “He gave Rogers a black eye. John is okay. Hell, Gordon is a weapon of mass destruction. You Tracys are scary.”

This time there was no acknowledgement at all. Scott threw the main door to the school office and strode through.

Pete caught it on the back swing and scrambled in after him.

It was like a military review. The three younger Tracy brothers appeared to all be standing at attention in a line while the Principal spoke…strongly to them…something about physical violence in the school yard.

Virgil, sporting a split lip, was glaring up at the man, one foot in front of Johnny, as if to block access to his little brother. Johnny’s red hair was a mess, there was dirt on his pants, and he was staring at the ground.

Gordon…Gordon was poking his tongue out and making faces through the door across the room. A room full of caterwauling and injured bullies, apparently.

When Pete finally caught up with Scott, he almost wished he hadn’t. The eldest Tracy looked fit to carve someone a new one.

“Mr Tracy.” Principal Stevens apparently had a death wish. “Is your father with you?”

“No, sir.” It was cold and sharp, blue eyes darting over his brothers.

Pete didn’t fail to notice the second eldest Tracy relax just a little, his shoulders dropping, as he caught sight of Scott.

“Is he available? I’ve attempted to call him, but he hasn’t responded. This is serious.”

“He’s busy.”

“Your grandmother?”

“At the surgery.”

“I need to speak to a responsible adult about this. This can’t keep happening.”

“It shouldn’t happen at all.”

Pete stared at his best friend. You can’t speak to a teacher like that, much less a principal. “Uh, Scott?”

The eyes that hit him…okay…. Pete straightened. Apparently they were doing this and Scott was his friend so…uh…let’s do this.

What happened next was just plain weird. Not only did Scott manage to get his brothers out of that room without the principal further demanding a parental presence, but also had him admitting the school was at fault and needed to fix the problem.

The glare Scott sent Bullneck on the way out was enough to cause the kid to whimper out loud.

Shit, man, Scott was lethal.

Maybe it would be way cooler to have an older brother.

Out in the parking lot it was a Tracy-only fest. Pete stood to one side as Scott performed his own military line up…and checked each brother for injury.

Gordon started yelling, Virgil talking over him.

Johnny just stood there.

But Scott did that something he always seemed to be able to do. He took control. A hand on Virgil’s shoulder quietened the worry there. A hug strangled little Gordy’s anger.

A soft word pulled Johnny’s eyes up from the ground. Pete swore something passed between the two of them, Johnny’s shoulders straightening as Scott’s lips thinned.

Yeah, a big brother would be amazing.

-o-o-o-

[fanfic-the-wish-your-heart-makes]

What Gotham Fox Characters Are Like on April Fool's Day (Part 1: Jim & Jerome)👻🤡😂

Warnings: mention of Jerome not being against using bombs

Jim Gordon Busy. He's busy fighting crime. So busy that he'll just nod at whatever prank news you give him. "Did you see the news, Jim? They wrote your name "Jam Gordy". "Mhm." "Look, a deer!" "Love you too, sweetheart." 🤦😂

To his defence: he really does have tons to do. Which means that he'll melt right into his special someone's arms at the end of the day.

Jerome Valeska

Is also busy. Doing crime. But he finds time to tell you all about it. "Let me tell you, I did not expect much from the green guy, but he's got good ideas, alright. Do you have an idea too? Come on, I wanna hear 'em, I'm a spontaneous guy."

Anything you want to do is good enough for him. Be it something small or something as big as a bomb. But best don't mention such things. He might think you stopped talking about it due to insecurities, not common sense 😆.

[reveluving]

it bleeds for you ; oj haywood x reader

summary: no extraterrestrial creature is getting in OJ’s way, not especially with you.

warnings: s~mut obv (minors DNI!), jean jacket & a bloodbath scene + major character death but y'all safe tho, very brief mention of s-cide, a hint of angst but mostly a heart-stopping sexc time & some fluff, reader is jupe's shyer sister (blood or not is up to you!)

a/n: had this idea for SO LONG, but just never found a justification to post it because it was one of my 'bolder' works at the time of making it jkdakdhs BUT NO MORE! don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» wanna know what I have in store this fall? come & check out this year's 'reve's quirky reverie' m.list! 🕷️'!

» smut includes: possessively soft & sweet oj your protective beloved, unprotected s~ex (p in v), edging, 'good girl's, guided cow~girl position, coping with grief but not really (you'll see :>)

'And with how much OJ had given and given and given, putting himself aside, for once, he wanted to change that. That even in a horrible situation, he found you.' ;

You didn’t think there would ever be a time when OJ would comfort you from the presence of Jean Jacket looming over Haywood’s residence naked.

You had just lost your only family, albeit, an estranged one since he became addicted to the limelight. He treated you well, but you wished he had given up his need to be a star since the cancellation of Gordy’s Home. You’d come around to see his kids, and he’d occasionally hang out with you when he wasn’t busy thinking about fame, but for the most part, you and Jupe had nothing more than the ‘siblings’ title. 

Even more so when you met the Haywoods and the existence of Jean Jacket, and when you confronted your brother, to put a stop to his suicidal attempts for public attention, that what had happened between him and Gordy before the animal got shot was ‘pure luck’, he didn’t listen to you. 

To choose to revive one’s dead fame over their own family was your final straw, and your last words to Jupe were ‘good luck’ and to be careful before Em whisked you away as you teared up, offering you a spot at their house to help them solve the uncertainties with the aerial being.

You didn’t think OJ would come back with bad news days after, that Jean Jacket had sucked up everyone in the event, including Jupe, his wife and kids. He immediately held you tight when you finally broke down, because, at the end of the day, they were still your family. Your only family, now nothing more than victims of an extraterrestrial monster.

It shouldn’t been inappropriate to be making out and removing each other’s clothes upstairs when you were supposed to be grieving but there was something about OJ that you couldn’t resist. 

The same way he felt about you.

You understood each other, in a way, having siblings of polar opposites, though he always pitied the relationship you had with your late brother. Em, despite her behaviour at times and her occasional jokes about putting Jean Jacket out to the world, OJ knew that like him, she would put family first. Plus, even with your shyness, you and Em got along very well, with the two of you respecting each other’s personalities.

You also took good consideration of animals’ behaviours, including his horses, and when he explained Jean Jacket’s tendencies to hunt the curious, you listened, just like he did when you poured out your feelings about the situation with Jupe. And with how much OJ had given and given and given, putting himself aside, for once, he wanted to change that. That even in a horrible situation, he found you. 

So when you and OJ stayed home, touching and appreciating each other’s bodies as it rained away, the last thing any of you expected was Jean Jacket to return, hovering over the Haywood’s house. 

Even as you mewled both out of fear and from the way OJ stilled his cock in you, you knew not to turn your head at the window, the gap of the curtain just enough to get a glimpse of the mysterious cloud. But you didn’t, and OJ, despite his own rapidly beating heart, comforted you. His arms remained around you, keeping you snug on top of him as he whispered in your ear.

“Good girl. Good girl.”

He held the back of your head to his chest, drifting your focus from the evil above to the pleasure he was bringing you, even as the behemoth dribbled blood from its victims from the fair down the farmhouse. He couldn’t risk you screaming over your late brother’s blood painting the walls outside, and if he was being honest, he was a little too far gone in the sensation, and you couldn’t find it in you to say you weren’t feeling the same way.

For once, you wanted what you wanted, to be loved and appreciated unconditionally, and it felt amazing to be with him. To feel the tears of pleasure brimming in your eyes as he worshipped you the way he saw you, as morbid as it was to feel as such at that moment. To be reassured that he had you, that he would take the reins for you, so long that you would have him.

He moved slowly, to hear the wet slaps of your hips and your little moans directly in his ears and in return, to let you know of his desires growing for you, too, all while trying your best to ignore the groans above.

He had promised to keep you safe, to treat you the way you deserved, and as horrible as he was to say it, Jean Jacket, out of everything it had done, it did everyone a favour by devouring Jupe, including starting a new life for you, and it would only further cement your beginnings with the Haywoods, with OJ, once Jean Jacket would finally be dealt with.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

» a/n: I don't care how short it is, I'm just so happy I finally got to share this 'crazier' idea with y'all! another form of appreciation for another underrated character!! ;; gorgeous divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

[deconstructthesoup]

Fantasy High Good Place AU

I am very happy that y'all voted for this, because it's been living in my brain rent-free for the past couple weeks.

So, right off the bat---this is partially self-indulgence, and partially a little exploration of what the Bad Kids would be like as adults if they hadn't found each other... and, well, if they were living in a more mundane world. And, of course, I had to combine and add a couple roles, just to make everyone fit.

Fig: She's in the Eleanor role as the main POV character, and as the first person who decides to learn how to be better. In life, she was a twenty-seven-year-old musician living in Phoenix, Arizona who was still trying to find her big break, and got by via drug-dealing after a string of shitty service jobs. Fig hasn't spoken to her mom in years, even after both Gilear and Gordie (aka Gorthalax) have both died, and she put up a front of selfishness and constant lies due to not trusting anyone and being afraid of being vulnerable. But when she dies and supposedly gets mistaken for a pro-bono death-row lawyer, she realizes that she's gotta ask for help...

Ayda: She's in the Chidi role---a high-strung ethics professor who devoted her life to figuring out the deep secrets of the universe, often at the cost of her own mental health. She's not as indecisive as Chidi, but she's very much of the mindset that ethical standards should always be upholded, and she initially sees nothing wrong with the points system. As Ayda becomes closer to Fig, she starts to pick up on how the system doesn't count for extenuating circumstances, and how much of an actual minefield ethics is... and she starts to reflect on her own life, where she never knew how to connect with others and stayed in her comfort zone of academia. Throughout bonding with the others, she slowly learns how to let her walls down and challenge the system.

Fabian: He's in a Tahani role, as the upper-class socialite who pretty much bought his way into "heaven" and definitely has a bunch of narcissistic tendencies. Unlike Tahani, however, he's very much aware of his own failings, and he constantly stresses about how fragile his standing and happiness is---though, he's become incredibly good at hiding it. Fabian's pretty much been living in the shadow of his late father's legacy for his whole life, and he spent most of that life trying to be just as good, if not better, than him... so, when he supposedly gets into the "Good Place," it's essentially proof that he did everything right. Of course, that still doesn't keep him from feeling like there's something amiss, especially since there's some issues with his assigned soulmate...

Riz: In life, Riz was a P.I. who mostly did petty work for rich people and got used to doing things that were vaguely shady in order to get by. By the time he died, he had a very low opinion of people in general, and had a "dog eat dog" mindset... which was immediately blown out of the water the second he realized that he'd been mistaken for a brilliant secret agent, and he was going to spend his afterlife with a self-centered rich boy as romantic soulmates. Riz being Riz, he immediately started to figure a way out of this situation, eventually finding out Fig---and one other person---and agreeing to take Ayda's ethics lessons if it meant he could earn his spot in the Good Place... though, of course, he's still subconsciously picking up on the little hints that something is off.

Kristen: She's in the "Jason" role... sorta. When she was alive, she was a former member of a conservative Christian cult who left when she was nineteen, spent the next five years trying to find another truth to pursue, and spent the last three years of her life partying her problems away and living high on nihilism. So it was quite a shock for her when, after dying, she supposedly got sent to the Good Place... and only because they thought that she's a humanitarian pastor, and straight to boot. Kristen initially doesn't want to waste time with ethics lessons, but as more and more things start to go wrong, she reluctantly agrees---and ends up reconnecting with that curious, searching part of herself that she thought she'd left behind, over and over again.

Gorgug: When he was alive, he was a physicist who made a lot of impressive discoveries---many of which had the potential to really help people---but due to the fact that he had a lot of issues with standing up for himself and believed himself to not be as smart as he actually was, he tended to let himself get taken advantage of and have other people take credit for his work. Getting into the Good Place kind of confirmed Gorgug's belief that keeping your head down and being humble would pay off eventually... until his assigned soulmate immediately told him that she was a) gay, and b) here by mistake. The two of them do become pretty good friends, and Gorgug even sits in on some of Ayda's ethics lessons, learning a bit about himself as he does.

Adaine: She's Janet---or, rather, an "Oracle," one of many informational assistants made by the Good Place (the Bad Place has Informants, while Accountants have Librarians). Every Oracle is given a name upon being activated in order to distinguish her from others, and, well, hers is Adaine. She starts off as your typical cheery, happy-to-help living Siri, but as time goes on and she gets rebooted over and over again, she starts to form genuine connections with the humans, and with connections come actual feelings... including the rise of mild anxiety. Adaine's grateful for that, though, as she sees becoming more human as an incredible experience.

Aelwyn: Honestly... there was no other character who was bitchy, multifaceted, and weirdly loving enough to be Micheal. At first, underneath her quirky and "cool older sister" angel persona, she's every bit the callous, vindictive, and cruel demon who only lives to torment human souls and prove her worth to her boss. But reboot after reboot, she fails, the humans become closer and figure her out... and she's eventually forced to cave. Aelwyn never fully loses her bitchiness and slightly amoral nature, but she does develop a heart and self-awareness as she becomes friends with the humans---and as she forms a sisterly connection with Adaine. Even a demon can learn to grow.

I have more thoughts, but I've spent a lot of time figuring out how to make this coherent, so... yeah!