#how do we feel about tattooed jimmy?

[thetomorrowshow]

scars

empires superpowers au masterlist (not up to date)

i have no clue where this idea came from but here *hands you a tattooed jimmy*

this takes place about 8 months after then end of ‘poisoned rats’.

cw: past abuse, mentions of needles, scars

~

“Look at that one,” Jimmy points at the screen; Scott pauses in his scrolling. “It’s a poppy. You love poppies.”

“. . . I do,” Scott says, glancing at Jimmy quickly before resuming the scroll.

“That one’s a flag, but it could be a pride flag. That’s why I saved it. The birds are a bit cheesy, but I thought I’d include them anyway.”

Scott doesn’t say anything, just keeps scrolling through the document. He knew Jimmy had been researching something, but . . . he hadn’t been expecting this.

Before him, on Jimmy’s laptop, is a three-page document that is a collage of tattoos.

Some are better than others—there’s a celtic knot that looks pretty bad, and Jimmy’s right about the birds being cheesy, but the poppy is understated and delicate, and a cute cartoon cat makes him smile.

That’s all well and good, but the problem is: Scott has no clue why Jimmy is showing him tattoos.

Jimmy points at a bundle of stars, saying something about how it reminded him of Scott, then at a feather, then a ladder, which he explains could be combined with the stars. He quickly passes over an abstract canary, hands twitching and tripping over his words, to point out an intricate subway car, then a tiny soccer ball.

Scott interrupts right as Jimmy starts to explain an iceberg tattoo.

“Jimmy, I—this is great, but I don’t think I understand. Are you wanting me to get a tattoo?”

Jimmy blinks, laughs nervously. “I—Scott, these are—these are cover-ups. For scars.”

Oh.

Suddenly, there’s a lump in Scott’s throat.

“I—a tattoo is a big decision,” Scott manages to say around the lump, his eyes catching on a long scar down Jimmy’s left bicep. “It’s something you can’t change. Are you sure?”

Jimmy levels an exasperated look at him. “For one thing, I’m an adult. I know it’s a big decision, you don’t have to remind me. And I promise I’ve thought about this. I shouldn’t have to tell you that I have.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Scott starts to amend, but Jimmy forges on.

“It’s my body,” he says. “It’s mine, and I can have the freedom to do what I want with it, because I’m an adult and it belongs to me. And when you—when you asked if I was sure, it felt like you were treating me like a kid, or like I don’t own my body. And it felt bad.”

Shame curls in his stomach. Jimmy’s right, he shouldn’t have responded like that. It’s perfectly normal for people to get tattoos, and for their partners to support them in it. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes again. “I didn’t think before speaking. I said something my parents would’ve said, and I should have considered what you just told me.”

Jimmy smiles, leans his head against Scott’s shoulder. “It’s fine. I was showing you because I wanted your opinion, and it’s all right if you don’t like the idea of a tattoo. But I would’ve liked for you to say that outright if that’s true, instead of telling me things I already knew.”

“No, I think it’s a great idea,” Scott hurries to amend. He pauses, taking a moment to get his thoughts in order. They’re working on having more open conversations, so that they don’t have repeat events of Scott’s Nightmare Situation of Last Month, as they’ve dubbed it. “I think a lot of tattoos are good,” he says eventually, “but some suck. So I’m happy you’re asking my opinion, because I don’t know if I’d be able to look my boyfriend in the eyes if he got a skull surrounded in roses on his bicep.”

That gets a laugh out of Jimmy. “Don’t think yours is the only opinion I’m getting,” he teases. “I know better than to trust a man who dyed his hair red all through college.”

“It looked good!”

They look at tattoos for a little while, Scott immediately vetoing the trio of birds and a guitar. Together, they separate the pages into ‘no’ ‘maybe’ and ‘yes’ images, dragging the little Darth Vader holding a lightsaber (a scar being the lightsaber) into ‘maybe’ and the celtic knot into ‘no’ and so on, until about half of the tattoos have been sorted.

And if they get distracted halfway through and end up making out right there on the couch? Well, they can always finish it later.

-

Three weeks later, Jimmy exits the tattoo parlor with the long, thin scar on his left bicep covered by a poppy, red and irritated from the procedure. Scott had been with him the whole time, holding his hand. They’d had to call for a break halfway through, but it had overall gone very well, and Jimmy had gotten into the passenger seat with a huge grin on his face.

“I thought I would be scared of the needle, but it wasn’t even that bad!” Jimmy says excitedly, twisting his arm around to check out the plastic-wrapped tattoo. “Did you hear when she said I was really good at staying still, especially for my first time? I’m going to get a good grade in tattoos, which is both normal to want and possible to achieve.”

Scott laughs out loud at the meme reference, resolving not to think about why it is that Jimmy’s so good at not moving while needles are stuck into him.

“Do you like it?” Scott asks instead, adjusting the rearview mirror before shifting the car into gear.

Jimmy doesn’t answer for a long moment. When Scott glances over at him, he’s let his arm fall, staring straight ahead, chewing thoughtfully on his lip.

“Yeah,” he decides eventually. “I really do. Now when I look at it in the mirror, I can be reminded of you instead of them. And . . . I can make choices with my body. That feels really good.”

“I can imagine.”

Jimmy twists his arm around again, peering at what little of the tattoo can be seen through the plastic. “I like it,” he says, quieter. “Do you like it?”

“It was my top choice, Jimmy,” Scott reminds him. “And it looks cute on you. Much better than that fish would.”

Jimmy snorts. “You know what, since it was Lizzie’s idea, I’ll tell her I’ll only get it if she gets it too.”

“Please—if you get fish, get a different one,” begs Scott. “It was huge, it had that horrible ‘gone fishing’ sign—get something cute, not something that screams fifty-year-old midlife crisis.”

That gets a laugh out of his boyfriend, and a little tension that had been in Scott’s body since before the appointment finally dissipates, allowing his shoulders to ease and his fingers to loosen their grip on the wheel.

“I’ve been watching videos on word cover-ups, so I think I might get one of those,” Jimmy says when they’re almost home. “I’m . . . I think it would help, even though I can still trace the letters. But I’d like to try scar treatment first, so I don’t think I’m gonna get another tattoo any time soon.”

“And here I was thinking my boyfriend was about to get all inked up and awesome,” Scott teases.

“And something for words would have to be really big, and there’s not much I want that’s good for that,” Jimmy continues. He glances at Scott quickly, then turns his gaze out the window. “That’s life, I guess.”

Scott thinks that’s the end of the conversation. He’s happy leaving it there, with vague plans and ideas in mind to experiment with.

But later that evening, at home, as Jimmy washes dishes and Scott dries them, Jimmy blurts out, “Would I be wrong for wanting a canary tattoo?”

Scott pauses. “Um. No?”

Jimmy sighs. “See, it’s the only one that I think I would want that’s big enough and colorful enough to cover any words. But I don’t know that I could be okay with having it cover up one of those words, because of . . . connotations. But also. . . .” he sighs again, sets down his dishcloth.

“Scott, being the Canary was the only freedom I had, as awful as it was,” Jimmy explains, and it’s a credit to how far he’s come that Jimmy’s voice doesn’t even shake. “I didn’t love it, but I could go outside. I could literally fly. And I looked pretty cool, honestly. So if I got another tattoo, I think it would be a canary, but . . . I’m afraid that’ll cause more harm than good, with my mental health and all.”

“I . . . don’t know,” Scott says honestly, sliding a plate into place in the cupboard. “I’m not in your head. And it’s not my body. But you don’t have to decide today. You don’t have to decide any time soon. You can talk about it with other people, and with Nora. And we can start looking into scar treatment, if you think you’re ready for that.”

Jimmy picks up the cloth again, runs it under the water. “I don’t know,” he says eventually, voice unreadable. His face has set back into that guarded look, the one that Scott is now so familiar with. “Maybe.”

Whatever Jimmy’s unspoken other concerns are (and Scott knows that they exist, he can tell in the tenseness of his stance), Jimmy abandons that topic of conversation. He doesn’t bring up tattoos again for weeks.

But every so often, Scott catches him admiring the poppy, and he can’t help but feel a bubble of happiness.

Jimmy finally has a good reason to look in a mirror.

[j-ensenackles]

r u mine?

pairing: jimmy uso x fem!reader

summary: in a friends-with-benefits situation with jimmy uso, you don't realize you're in love with each other without a little help from sami and jey.

word count: 1.7k

warnings: some cursing, mentions of sexual themes

a/n: i'm back! sorry i haven't posted in a while -- life is crazy. thanks to @sorryimshannoon for the request! also been listening to tons of arctic monkeys so you can thank that obsession for the title. :)

You were screwed. Completely, totally screwed.

It wasn’t like you meant to fall in love with Jimmy Uso. It just…happened. But here you were, wanting him. You did have him, in a way. But not in the way you’d like.

You and Jimmy had been hooking up for the past few months since shortly after you joined the Bloodline. You weren’t even really sure how it happened, but suddenly you were in a whirlwind and Jimmy Uso was the eye of the storm.

Over the past couple months of late-night hotel room meetups and backstage makeout sessions, you found yourself falling in love with Jimmy. His smile, his tattoos, his devotion to his family, his kind heart. 

And now you were here. Screwed.

Screwed because Jimmy had no idea you were in love with him, and he sure as hell wasn’t in love with you. At least that’s what you thought.

For some time Sami had been telling you Jimmy reciprocated your feelings, but you wouldn’t hear it.

“You’re blind, Y/N,” Sami argued one day.

“And you’re delusional,” you quipped back.

“The way he looks at you alone should prove that he’s in love with you.”

“Sami, he doesn’t look at me like anything. He looks at me the same way he looks at everyone.”

Sami didn’t even reply, he just crossed his arms and huffed in frustration.

Even if being friends with benefits with Jimmy was slowly tearing your heart apart, it was better to have him in some way than not at all. Right?

---

“Listen, I have a plan,” Sami entered the room, flopping down on the couch next to Jey.

“Okay…” Jey responded, looking at his friend skeptically.

“I’m tired of Y/N and Jimmy pining after each other and doing nothing about it. I say we help them confess their feelings. Whaddya say, dawg?” Sami’s excitement lit up his face.

A smile slowly spread across Jey’s face.

“That might’ve been the smartest thing you’ve ever said, Uce.”

---

You sat on the couch in the dressing room, leg bouncing impatiently. Your watch read 8:01. 

A knock sounded at the door and you smiled, getting up and trying to quell the butterflies in your stomach. You opened the door to Jimmy leaning against the doorframe, beaming his dazzling smile.

“You’re late,” you teased.

He rolled his eyes but his smile never faltered as he said, “Shut up.”

He pushed off the door frame, kicking the door shut behind him. He cupped your face in his hands, kissing you with the same fervor he did every time. And just like every time, heat ignited in you at his simplest touch.

He knew it, too. He knew what he did to you. You could feel his smirk against your lips as you desperately grabbed at his shirt, his chest, his hair.

You didn’t have much time, as you both had to report to Roman before your segment at the end of the night. You wanted to make the most of the time you had.

And you did.

---

You finished buttoning your jeans and watched Jimmy tug his shirt back on. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, watching as purple marks blossomed across your neck from Jimmy’s lips.

“Great. Now I gotta get these covered up,” you grumbled.

Jimmy came up behind you, wrapping his arms around you and meeting your eyes in the mirror.

“Don’t. I want everyone to know that you’re mine,” There was a flicker of heat in his gaze.

Crimson crept onto your cheeks. You played it off with an eye roll and a teasing smile, untangling yourself from his arms and heading towards the door.

“C’mon, we don’t wanna keep Roman waiting.”

You tried the door handle, but it wouldn’t budge. You tried again, jiggling the handle. Nothing.

“It’s not opening,” your brows furrowed as you looked back at Jimmy.

“Stop playin’,” he playfully complained.

“I’m not!”

When he saw the concern on your face, however, he made his way to the door. Trying the handle himself, he found the same result as you: it wouldn’t budge.

“What the fuck?”

He slammed his shoulder into the door, one, two, three times to no avail.

“Shit, big Uce is gonna be pissed,” Jimmy ran his hands through his hair.

“Let’s just call Sami or Jey, they’ll come get us,” you suggested.

“I don’t have my phone. I left it back in Roman’s dressing room. Use yours.”

You nodded in agreement, patting your back pocket. Finding it empty, you thrust your hand in your front pockets. Nothing.

“Um…”

You hurried from the door, looking under the couch’s pillows, behind potted plants, anywhere you could think. But there was no sign of your phone.

“I must’ve left it in hair and makeup,” you turned towards Jimmy, eyes wide.

“Shit,” Jimmy breathed.

“Shit,” you agreed.

You spun around and hurried towards the door, banging on the door and shouting, “Hey! We’re stuck in here! Somebody get us outta here!”

There was silence on the other side of the door.

“What are we gonna do?” you asked, panic beginning to set in.

Jimmy made his way to you, concern laced in his gaze. He gently placed his hands on your arms, dipping his head to get you to look at him.

“Look at me, baby. It’s alright. Someone will find us soon. I’ll tell you what, if nobody comes to get us in the next 15 minutes, I’ll bust the door down myself, okay?”

You gave a weak smile, nodding.

“C’mon, let’s sit and wait,” he guided you to the couch.

You sat, hugging your knees. Jimmy followed suit, stretching his long limbs across the couch.

“Do you think Roman’s gonna be pissed?” you asked.

Jimmy shrugged, “At first, yeah. But he always comes around.”

Silence fell again. You felt unsure, awkward. You had never really been alone with Jimmy. At least, when you were alone together, you weren’t really doing much talking. But now you were here, with him, for God knew how long.

You studied him for a moment as his eyes wandered around the room, his fingers tapping the leather arm of the couch. You were so stupidly in love with him. Just looking at him made your heart skip a beat. Not that you would ever admit it, but you sort of wished you two would never get out of this room.

But the silence was pressing in on you, and you felt like you needed to fill it and save you two from any awkwardness. So, you said the first thing that came to mind.

“Did you really mean it? That I’m yours?”

As the words filled the space between you, you immediately regretted asking. So much for preventing awkwardness. Your eyes widened, cheeks reddening for the second time that night.

“I am so sorry. I don’t know why I asked that. You don’t have to answer. You probably shouldn’t.”

You mentally chastised yourself: Stop talking! You sound like an idiot!

“Why shouldn’t I answer?”

His voice was so calm, so still, it surprised you. There was something in his voice you couldn’t quite place.

“I-I dunno,” you shrugged.

Suffocating silence filled the room again.

“Yeah.”

“What?” your eyes snapped to his face and you attempted to decipher his unreadable expression.

“Yeah, I want you to be mine,” Jimmy’s gaze didn’t falter.

His voice was quiet as he spoke the words, and even though he didn’t break eye contact and his body language read comfortable and confident, you could tell he was nervous. Jimmy Uso, nervous. You never thought you’d see the day.

Before you got a chance to reply, Jimmy kept speaking, probably in an attempt to rip the bandaid off.

“I, uh…I really care about you, Y/N. I have for a while,” he took a deep breath, “And I love you.”

“You do?”

He nodded, “Look, if you don’t feel the same way, or never wanna, like, hookup again I get it and–”

“Jimmy.”

“–I’ll leave you alone if you want. I just thought you should know because it’s all I’ve been thinking abo–”

“Jimmy.”

He stopped.

“I love you, too.”

The smile that erupted on his face could bring down mountains.

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

He grinned goofily, “Damn. I should’ve said something a long time ago.”

“I know. God, Sami’s gonna have a field day with this,” you groaned, throwing your head back in mock exasperation.

“So is Jey,” Jimmy laughed.

As silence fell again, the energy in the room shifted. Suddenly gravity seemed to pull you towards each other, your faces inches away. His gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips as he placed a strong hand on your cheek.

Even though you and Jimmy had been together countless times, there was something so intimate, so soft about this moment. His lips met yours softly, slowly, unlike anything you had known him to be before. There was no heat, no all-consuming desire in this kiss. There was something more, a feeling that bubbled up inside you until you felt you could burst. You figured that was love.

The kiss lasted a long moment, and when you both pulled away, breathless, you thought you could die of happiness.

“That was–”

The jiggling of the door knob cut you off. You and Jimmy’s heads whipped to the door as Paul Heyman entered.

“Where have you two been? We’ve been looking for you for 45 minutes! Your Tribal Chief is not happy. I suggest you come along.” 

The stern look he gave you and Jimmy had you figuring that he knew exactly why you two were late.

You both got up silently, heads bowed like chastised children as you followed Paul down the hallway. You made eye contact with Jimmy and attempted to stifle your giggles, trying not to enrage Paul even more. 

You felt Jimmy’s fingers twitch towards yours and your hands interlocked, his large palm engulfing yours. Your heart fluttered in your chest like a bird in a cage.

Upon entering Roman’s dressing room, you inwardly flinched as the Tribal Chief addressed you and his cousin.

“Where have you been?” Roman demanded.

“Uce, the door was stuck and we didn’t have our phones–”

Roman held up a hand, “I don’t want to hear it. Just don’t let it happen again.”

You and Jimmy nodded, finding a seat on the couch. Your hands never separated.

Too involved in each other, you both missed the way Sami and Jey clocked your body language, smirking to each other.

Mission accomplished.

[anpanbun]

Nearly Forgotten

(An AU of @liloinkoink's Lamplight AU..... inspired by that one tumblr post about ancient tattoos and forgotten gods)

It was after school and young Martyn was on a mission. He stood on his tip toes to reach up, and, with all the gentleness he could, shifted the right rabbit ear of the antenna the slightest bit further along. The staticky noise of the TV faded as his favorite channel sharpened into view. However, instead of his favorite after school cartoon, something that would forever change his life came onto the screen.

-----

Martyn wasn't an anthropologist, he was maybe the furthest thing from it. A prospective radio host finishing his broadcasting degree, but, when he was a child, one documentary forever sparked his interests beyond that. The documentary was about ancient humans and societies, which should have been torturously boring to a small child. Instead, he was drawn in by the whole program. In particular the story of a mummy found in the Alps with a unique tattoo.

The tattoo was on the mummy's chest, over his heart, eight lines in a starburst pattern and four squiggles in the middle. The program had claimed it was used for some sort of ritualistic purpose.

Little Martyn didn't think much of it at the time beyond the pattern being cool, but over the decade or so after he found that the design had stuck with him.

In school it was what he doodled in the corners of his homework. It was the pattern he looked for in noise. When he was bored it was the thing he looked up.

So it only made sense that in the fall, after his first internship in university gave him a little extra cash jingling in his pocket, Martyn found himself outside a tattoo parlor.

And now, a week later, he's staring at the starburst and squiggles first tattooed on the chest of a man thousands of years ago.

"This looks perfect. Thank you so much, man!" Martyn fist bumped the artist, a man, with some of the coolest hair and tattoos Martyn had ever seen, named BigB.

"Not a problem, just remember the care instructions I told you before we started and it should be healed up in no time."

-----

When B had said "no time" he hadn't been joking. It being fully healed in a couple of days felt almost too fast, but maybe that's just how it worked?

As he was examining the healed tattoo in the morning light of his bathroom, he got the sudden feeling that something was off. He couldn't put his finger on it, but if he'd looked closer it was almost like it was easier to see the tattoo in the mirror than it should have been with the bright morning light streaming in from the window behind him. Almost like the tattoo was faintly glowing.

-----

Martyn was very fortunate that the old apartment he rented had a gas stove. It had taken him a while to adjust to using it, but recently he had finally gotten the hang of it. Water boiled quick, nothing ever boiled over or burned, and he managed to cook everything to perfection.

-----

It was early winter when something noticeably changed. The first bad snow fall of the season was expected to roll in, so his friend Jimmy and Jimmy's roommate Tango, who rented an actual house with a woodburning fireplace, invited him to stay over.

"Thanks again for letting me crash here, Tim."

"It's no problem Martyn! What kind of friend would I be if I let my buddy freeze to death in his apartment!"

They were sitting in front of the fireplace enjoying the extra warmth. The power was still on thankfully, but the snow was really picking up outside.

Tango was in the middle of a story from his engineering class when, out of the corner of his eye, Martyn swore he saw a form flicker in the fire, a hand reaching out.

His head snapped to the fire, his voice sounded startled, especially when he saw it was still there, "Do you guys seen that?"

Tango and Jimmy followed his line of sight. The moment their eyes met the fireplace, the hand melded back into the rest of the flames.

"See what?" Tango asked.

"The flames, they looked- they looked like a hand," the moment he had started the sentence Martyn realized that what he saw would sound insane, "so.... I thought you guys might have seen the optical illusion too? But I guess you missed it?"

"Huh guess we did, that sucks! It must have looked cool!" Jimmy answered.

The conversation moved on after that, and eventually Tango and Jimmy retired to their rooms. The both of them wanted to take advantage of the power being on a little longer to sleep in their own beds while they could.

Martyn sat in front of the fireplace for a while longer on his own. His knees were curled up to his chest and his head rested on them. He was looking out the glass patio doors into the swirling snow.

It was in the quiet moment alone that it reappeared. Martyn noticed the firelight in the peripheries of his vision brighten significantly, so he turned his head. That's when he saw it again, the hand, made of fire but reaching out to him.

Maybe it was stupidity, maybe he was tired, maybe it was some of the million of other excuses he could make up. The truth was, though, that something came over him, he was enthralled by the flames. Looking at them made a warm feeling rise in his chest.

He reached his own hand out to meet the fire.

Jimmy's door opened with a creak, shockingly loud in the bated breath silence that had been there before. Martyn snapped his hand back.

"Oh good, you're still up, I think the power finally went out," Jimmy said as he flopped onto the sofa behind Martyn, "it started getting cold in my room."

Tango joined them not long after saying the same thing, and the three settled in to sleep.

Martyn kept a close eye on the fire until he finally fell asleep. The warmth of the fire outside and in his chest finally lulling him to sleep. His mind replaying over and over again the moments before Jimmy had opened his door.

Martyn's hand had met the fire's, his hand had met and it hadn't burned.

-----

After that realization Martyn did the thing any sane person would do. He went camping.

He waited a week or so, of course, for the snow to melt, but he went camping.

Because where else was he going to get a bonfire?

-----

Staring at the towering flames in front of him, Martyn only then took the moment to consider if this was actually a good idea, but only a moment. He needed to know.

A warmth in his chest had slowly risen up as he had built the fire, from excitement or nerves or anticipation he guessed. It didn't take long though. Within 30 minutes or so of the fire reaching its full height, the hand reappeared for the third time. This time Martyn didn't hesitate, the instant he saw the hand reach out of the wall of flame he lunged towards it.

Like they had that night, the flames of the hand licked at his skin as they met. He couldn't help but laugh because he had been right. The flames fully consumed his hand but he only felt a warm tickle. The warmth in his chest condensed into a warm ball right over his heart, right where his ancient tattoo rested.

He was too busy being amazed to react in time when the flames, seemingly no longer content with just brushing up against him, tightened around his hand and pulled. He floundered, suddenly the warm feeling he had felt like a burning brand over his heart. He tried to pull away, but the fire overpowered him and the last thing he saw was bright white light as the entirety of Martyn was pulled into the bonfire.

-----

The white light faded after a moment, Martyn blinked away the lingering spots. A bit delayed, but his body continued the reaction it had been doing before and he tried to take a step back.

He was stopped though and finally he looked forward to where the fire had been.

In front of him, in place of the fire, was a man. The man's hand was wrapped around Martyn's in the same way the flames had been, holding him still.

The man had a wide, wolfish smile, and wild brown hair. He had some sort of animal ears, wolf maybe, Martyn thought. What stood out most though, were his eyes. They were the blue of the hottest flames a fire can have. They were mesmerizing.

"Hello Martyn," the man said, "I am Ren! I am finally able to speak with you, my only acolyte. My savior."

[ladylilithprime]

24 + 58, whatever configuration of Sam, Dean, and Castiel being involved in the mess you like

24: Soulmate AU

58: Accidental Eavesdropping  

AND HERE I thought angels didn't have soulmates!"

That was Dean's voice, tense and biting. Sam felt the urge to cringe away from the tone if not the words and made himself be still to avoid drawing attention. When his brother was in a mood to use that tone of voice, no attention was good attention.

"Normally we do not," came the response, predictably in Castiel's voice, though the angel (former angel? Angel once removed?) sounded far more frustrated than Sam had ever heard him. "We are also not usually human while still retaining our memories as an angel. My situation is, once again, unprecedented."

"And you're sure it's not Jimmy's soulmark?" Dean pressed. "Or, hell, a tattoo he might've gotten before you took up residence?"

"Jimmy's soulmark disappeared from this body when he was Reaped during the Apocalypse," Castiel huffed. "And he did not have any tattoos. Nor did this mark appear until after Metatron precipitated my Fall!"

Well, that definitely sounded like it was a soulmark.

Apparently Dean agreed, because he changed his approach a bit. "So why come to me? I'm no good at this kinda touchy feely crap; that's more Sam's wheelhouse than mine."

Rude. Accurate, probably, but still! Sam was ready to just keep pretending to be asleep now just to force Dean to man up and deal with the emotions for once, except he didn't think that would be fair to Castiel to make him flounder just because he had gone to Dean first.

"Dean, please at least attempt to have some compassion," Castiel snapped. Actually snapped! Stunned as he was, Sam almost missed the rustle of fabric before the former angel growled, "Look!"

There was a heavy silence that lasted for six of Sam's heartbeats - not that he was counting - before Dean mumbled, "Oh." And then, "Shit."

"Exactly," Castiel agreed in grim tones, leaving Sam even more confused than before.

"But I thought he had--"

"A ploy on the part of Azazel's agent," came the almost nonsensical reply. "But you see why I chose to speak to you about this, despite your ineptitude."

"Hey!" And there was Dean's offended, audible pout, because God possibly literally forbid that anyone point out Dean's emotional constipation besides Dean himself, and that was almost enough to distract Sam from--

"He still mourns her, even nearly a decade since losing her," Castiel said, sober and quiet and agonized. "It would be the height of cruelty to show him proof that it was all a fabrication of Hell, especially when I have no proof that the mark will remain when I am able to reclaim my Grace."

"So what, you plan to just.... keep it covered and never make skin contact with Sammy while living here with him?" Dean demanded, sounding angry again. To be fair, Sam was starting to feel a bit angry himself, because what the hell, Cas? Even with the unfortunate (heartwrenching) truth that Castiel having Sam's soulmark implied about his bond with Jess, that wasn't something you just hid from someone you lived with whom you also claimed to be a friend!

"I have no intention of hiding it, or of avoiding Sam!" Castiel growled back, and suddenly Sam was battling down a very different sort of flush of heat, because that tone was doing things to him. "I was hoping, perhaps erroneously, that you would have insight into how to break it to him gently that his true soulmate is not only a former angel who may one day soon cease being human and thus no longer have a soul, but also one who has previously betrayed him heinously and would completely understand if he would rather have nothing to do with me than be bound to me for all eternity!"

"Well if you're going for gentle," Sam found himself saying into the silence, carefully sitting up from the couch and peering over the back at his brother and, apparently, his soulmate, "maybe don't have a loud argument three feet from my head while I'm trying to nap?"

"Sam," Castiel breathed, eyes wide even with the painfully pronounced bags under them from lack of sleep, before shooting a panicked look in Dean's direction.

"Hey, Sammy," Dean said, his voice higher than usual and looking torn between caught out and gleeful. "So, uh... you heard--"

"Most of it," Sam broke in, stifling a yawn with the back of his hand. "And I'm still tired, so having any deeply emotional conversations should probably wait until we're all better rested."

He got up, prying himself away from the comfortable warmth of the couch by reminding himself that it was only warm because of his body heat and that his bed would be more warm and comfortable. Without really thinking about it, he reached out and took Castiel's hand, stroking his thumb over the skin as the former angel's breath caught and Sam felt the tingle of the gray and black feather on the inside of his left arm presumably filling with true color for the first time.

"Just so there's no misunderstanding, now or later," Sam murmured, looking down into celestial blue eyes, "Eternity with you sounds a lot better than the rest of my life without you. So don't run away on me, okay?"

"Okay, Sam," Castiel murmured, staring up at him in wonder even as their hands shifted, fingers entwining.

"And if that's at least temporarily settled," Dean said, throwing up his hands, "I say you two go get a room and we all go get more sleep!"

"That," Castiel said dryly, "is the first useful suggestion you have had this entire conversation."

[issdisgrace]

SUPRISE

WARNINGS: None

I feel my nerves ise as the usos music hits and I walk out with them. 

“Coming to the ring accompanied by award-winning special effects artist Y/n L/n, the Usos.” The announcer rambles off. The crowd cheers as we make our way down the ramp into the ring. Mics are quickly handed out. 

“I know you guys were expecting for me and Jimmy to come out and cut the promo for our upcoming match. But tonight is different.”

“Very different.” Jimmy adds.

“Yes. Tonight’s special. You see, on top of being a special effects artist this tattooed and pierced grizzly bear is the man that’s captured our younger brother’s heart and tonight he’s going to finally propose to him and officially become a part of the family.”

“I know, finally, after all these years. It’s been too long in the making.” I silently laugh at Jimmy. It’s true it’s been a long time in the making. 

“Agree 100% and right now we got Sami bringing him out here.” The big monitor changes to a view of a camera backstage. Sami walks into the locker room happily with the blindfold in hand.

“Uce, I got a surprise for you.”

“I hate surprises.”

“You like this one, I promise. Just put this blindfold on.” Sami says holding the blind fold out to him. Solo looks at it, then backs up at Sami, contemplating it.

“Come on Uce.”

“Fine.” He grumbles, putting the blindfold on. 

“Alright, I just gonna lead you a way to your surprise.”

“This better not be a trap.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you, Uce.” And it’s true from what I’ve seen and heard Sami’s real nice. We watch the monitor as Sami guides him through backstage, almost running him in to a couple of things, but ultimately it’s Sami that runs into Roman. 

“Hey Roman.”

“Why is Solo blind folded?”

“I got to take him to his surprise.”

“Mmm I’ll help. Don’t need you battering up my number 2 on the way.” Roman then helps Sami guide Solo out to the ring without almost running into everything. They guide Solo up the steps of the ring and help him in. They guide him to the middle of the ring and I get down on one knee and pull out the ring. Jimmy hands me his microphone as Jey hands his to Sami.

“You can take off the blindfold, Uce.” Solo reaches back and unties it. It falling to the ground completely upon seeming me down on one knee. I see his eyes visibly soften and my heart begins to warm.

“Solo Sikoa, you have made me the happiest man in the world. You’ve been with me through thick and thin. You supported me and stood up for me. I remember the day I met you like it was yesterday. It was the first day of 9th grade. I was sitting at the back of the class. Everyone was too scared to approach me because of the piercing and dark clothes. But not you. You came up to me and introduced yourself with such confidence. I appreciated that. And then you sat with me at lunch when no else would and asked me what I liked. You didn’t shy away from me just because I enjoyed the macabre. You embraced it. You embraced me.

I remember the first time you stuck your neck out for me. I remember the first fight you got into because someone was talking shit about me. I remember cleaning your bloody knuckles like how I did to mine so many times. I remember taking you home and your mom freaking out about you getting into a fight. I remember the talk your father gave me on the way out. Telling me to stay away from you because I was in trouble. And to be fair, I was and still am trouble. I remember how you disregarded your parents and still hung out with me despite everything.

I remember feeling so lucky. I still do feel lucky that I have you. You have been my rock for day one. And I remember the first time I asked you out. I remember the drive-in the movie theater we went to and what movie was playing. And I remember what we both got at that dinner we went to after. I remember kissing you for the first time that night. I remember the fireworks that went off in my stomach that still manage to be just as potent now as they were then. I remember the first time you introduced me as your boyfriend and how your mother practically fainted. I also remember your father telling me to get my shit together and figure out what I was going to do after we graduated and if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be allowed to see you. I’m glad he did that because that was part of the reason I decided to pursue special effects. I also was madly in love with you and couldn’t think of life without you and I still feel that way. So I buckled down and started to pursue special effects. I wanted to prove myself to you and your family. I wanted them to see that I would take care of you. That I was the man for you. And all my hard worked payed off and I remember getting my first job as an assistant to Greg Nicotero. I remember how proud you were of me. And I remember how excited you were when I landed my first job as a lead special effects artist. 

I remember so many things. And I’ll continue to remember these memories and more until I’m old and grey. And I hope I can remember this moment for years to come. So Joseph Yokozuna Fatu, will you continue you to make me the happiest man and marry me?” He just nods, wiping his tears away with his right hand. I place the microphone down and I grab his left hand and slide the ring on to it. The crowd goes crazy as I stand up and kiss him. I smile into the kiss as the others set off confetti poppers. Pulling away, I look down at him, wiping away the excess tears.

“I love you with all my being.” I say.

“I love you too.”

[wooshofficial]

Martyn makes his way back to Baxter after the end of the session, only for there to be ghosts at his house.

Not the good ghosts, either- he saw Jimmy and Lizzie chasing each other around the Secret Keeper earlier, and Mumbo hovering around Grian as he called time. No, these are the wrong ghosts.

Three people sit on Baxter, staring down at him with glances ranging from pity to mania. Martyn holds a staring contest with the three before someone speaks up:

“Oh man, the lone wolf makes it back home, everyone! How do you guys think he’s feeling right now?” The voice that pipes up comes from the ghost on the right. They’re not human—a mouse, maybe a rat?—and they’re wearing a maid dress, which isn’t the weirdest part of this whole situation.

“I don’t know,” says the left ghost, lounging on Baxter’s ear and jingling bells on their jester outfit with the movement, “probably…alone. Angry.”

Martyn scowls at the clown and rat, building his way up to be level with the ghosts. “Who the hell are you?! What are you doing at my house?”

He gets no direct response, because of course he doesn’t. Because of course the Watchers would try to drive him insane with ghosts commenting on his current mental state and him unable to give his two cents. Instead, the right ghost looks at the left, who has continued to spread out on Baxter and make some very annoying jingling sounds.

“Angry is a definite. Guilty, probably. Hating himself, absolutely.”

What? No. This is a death game, people are going to die. Martyn knows this. He doesn’t blame or hate himself, thank you very much! He opens his mouth to debate, but-

“Oh, be nice to him, Rat. He just lost his buddies!” The middle ghost finally speaks up, swinging her legs and staring directly at him. She’s got orange skin and what looks like an anchor strapped across her back, which Martyn is confused at- both the fact that it’s there and the fact that he knows what it is. “Remember how I felt up until what, two months ago? Because of you, might I add.”

“I told you Lux, I didn’t know he would get permakilled!”

“Still-“

“I apologized!”

“Would you please get back to talking about me while you’re sitting on my goddamn house?”Martyn says, still at eye level with the three frankly absurd ghosts arguing in front of him, once again to no response. Anchor ghost—Lux—leans over and slaps the right ghost—Rat—straight across the face, and this is where Martyn would stop paying attention to the nonsense, except Rat just pulled out a monstrous looking scythe; and Jester Ghost is scrambling across Baxter’s head to be at their side with a similar weapon in their hand, jingling the whole way there; and Martyn is now checking his wrist tattoo to make sure his between-session immunity is working so he doesn’t die from this.

“Rat!” Lux ghost shouts, looking over towards Martyn, pity still in their eyes, “you’re scaring him!”

“You slapped me!” They follow Lux’s gaze to double the amount of staring in Martyn’s general direction, and Jester Ghost follows suit, with a manic smile on top. Rat ghost puts the scythe away with a sigh. “We’re getting off track. Lone wolf over there is exactly what it says on the tin. Lux gets that feeling, and I don’t because I am basically god.”

Martyn chooses to ignore that. Lux ghost just rolls their eyes.

“But,” Rat says, and Martyn is now sure that these ghosts are simply choosing to ignore him because he’s suddenly locked in another stare off, “what I know-“

“We all know,” adds the clown-

“-is payback. Sweet, beautiful, over the top payback.”

Lux nods. “And he knows it too, doesn’t he?”

“Everyone on this server knows payback,” Martyn mutters, mostly to himself. “Even Scar knows payback. Damn good at it too.”

The jester makes a tsk sound towards him, and that’s when he knows that the ghosts are definitely pretending he’s not there, besides the whole all-three-of-them-are-staring-directly-at-him thing. “Ah-ah, but there’s a difference between how they do it and we do it. When they do it, it’s very…”

“Vanilla?” Lux ghost supplies.

“Boring?” Rat ghost drawls.

The jester ghost ponders a moment, that manic grin still on their painted face, before answering: “Simple. This server only knows simple payback. Us, on the other hand, we’re grand. Dramatic!”

Sure, like Martyn could be more dramatic than spawning three withers, or blowing himself up to kill someone else, or breaking a truce to go on a murder spree and win the game entirely. Like that’s even possible. Like the Watchers would allow that sort of thing on top of all the curses.

“So?” Martyn chides, about two seconds away from leaving and just moving bases entirely. “What do any of you have to do with this?!”

“So,” Rat says, and they have finally stopped ignoring him, “be like us, Martyn. Don’t just go to war, be the war.”

“Fight like nothing else matters.”

“And revel in the catharsis when it’s done.”

And then all three of them start laughing, filling the air with the sounds of bells and chaos and violence before disappearing in the blink of an eye. In their place, a single stick of TnT, with a note tied to it:

A pipe bomb for your troubles :)

Martyn throws it across the mesa, and promptly goes to sleep, deciding that even if lonely, he’s damn glad that he’s not whoever the hell those ghosts were.

[wavernot4love]

hello fun 2ourdust albany things (note i typed this at like 4:30 am last night when i simply couldn't sleep but then passed out before i could post it so it may not be the most coherent)

- pete talking about upstate being special 2 him due to memories of taking a bus to a tattoo parlor in syracuse and feeling inspired by all these cool achc dudes... god i love hardcore scene lore fob stuff ESPECIALLY when upstate gets brought into it

- reinventing the wheel for the first time in apparently seventeen YEARS (i take full responsibility for making this happen due to my showing up in my tttyg crewneck /s)

- andy waved to us!! long story short about 30 of us were waiting by the wrong buses sadly & just barely missed pete & patrick meeting folks by the right ones. we were pretty heartbroken when we came over & found out, but a combination of the andy thing & meeting/trading bracelets/caroling along to folie songs (if ya know ya know) with cool folks turned waiting after the show into a fond memory regardless. i love the fob community, dude. t/2ourdust has changed everything for me.

and still i just find it worth noting how sick it is that this tour pete & patrick have been taking the time to come out & talk w folks. you don't see that much with bands playing arena shows and it makes me happy to see.

- lots of celebration for the smfs anniversary!

muse live (shit is INCREDIBLE live dude), kintsugi & what a time to be alive for medley, lil pete speech about the record.

- ginasfs instead of sixteen candles as a wild card again!!! i cannot believe i have heard her three times now when if you asked me two years ago i never would have thought i'd hear her once!

- smfs is definitely a worthy replacememt for srar in every sense. i appreciate both similarly, and i love that they recall tourdust's srar performance in the sense of it serving as a great medley transition, also in regard a to collaboration (everyone joining in to sing at the end, in this case joe especially)

- that reminds me, it seemed like pete did a lot of backing vox tonight which was nice

- i may only really know a handful of jimmy songs well but great band and jim adkins is one of those people that just seems nice. i like watching the dude do his thing.

- seeing hot mully in an arena was crazy. was pretty sad they cut featuring mark hoppus but still was nice 2 see them

- i remain wholly not a fan of seated shows, at least not for this kinda music, that did get me down at a couple points as i just can't move the way i wanna (not being able to mosh to cbts etc like at tourdust sucked, as well as just being confined to my seat/row all night) & also it seems to keep the crowd in general way more stagnant.

but at least i could see well + no one around me was particularly disrespectful!!

i also respect fob's ability to make a concert at an arena like this still feel like a SHOW (in the scene sense)

- and finally, have nightmare quality pete randomly crawling inside the inflatable dog (i am currently forgetting dude's name)

[lunarcrown]

Curious question

Have you considered designing tattoos based off htp? I think those would be really awesome

ALRIGHT WHOS GONNA ROLL UP AND GET THE HELS TEK LOGO ON THEIR ASS?????

JKJKJK

That would be pretty cool!!!!! I might make Smth for myself sometime just for funsies but HASGSG IDK I love this au but I would feel so bad someone getting something on their skin FOREVER about it?? There’s cool designs to be had but how u gonna explain to grandma like “no GMA this represents when Jimmy punched bravo in the face!! GRANDMA WHAT DO U MEAN U DIDNT READ THE LATEST CHAPTER???”

BUT!!!!!!!!! MAYHAPS I might make some sort of physical something for ppl to get just to cherish the memories if that’s even Smth people want??

…..shirts?? Some sort of…..book?? Prints??? Idk we still got a while to go PLUS extras so I’ll get my noodle cookin EVENTUALLY!!!!

[onboardsorasora]

Hello again👋, I'm here to poke you for some more enchanted Daniel Au. All good if you're not feeling it. Just thought I'd ask because seeing him so happy this weekend has got me craving Enchanted Daniel.

A little chaotic but we're here!! Thank you thank you for the ideas! I think I'm gonna be starting the next part today maybe 😅😅 (this got soo long, but it wanted to do it's own thing!)

Part 1 | Part 9

Part 10

Daniel watched from his little cat nest as Max went through his last minute travel checks. He was agitated as he grabbed his spare charger that he keeps in the living room and he almost slammed the door to the coat closet where he kept his travel playstation set up.

Max was on his way to the factory. He needed to go speak with his boss and team about the upcoming season. Jimmy told Daniel that Max wasn’t happy about having to leave him alone in Monaco. But Daniel understood, he couldn’t travel yet– Michelle was still working on the passport– and this would be his first time in Max’s home alone.

Well not completely alone, Jimmy and Sassy were with him.

Daniel had already made extensive promises to charge his phone, Sassy also promised to remind him to keep it on. He also promised Max that he wouldn’t go anywhere by himself either. In fact, Lando was supposed to be coming over to stay with him for a little.

Max pulled his suitcase into the living room, his face in a stony pout. He truly didn’t want to go but he couldn’t get out of it. There was a knock on the door and Daniel got up with Jimmy in hand and Sassy trailing behind. They opened it and Lando came barrelling in wearing a huge orange hoodie and carrying his own bright suitcase.

He hugged Daniel and then Max and beelined to scoop up Sassy who fought for a little before seemingly accepting her fate, if Daniel’s laugh was anything to go by.

“Are you all packed, Maxy?” Daniel asked, throwing a tattooed arm around Max’s tense shoulders. Max sighed and nodded.

“Don’t worry Max!” Lando chirped with a grin, “we’ll be fine. Plus Alex and Lily are free as well.”

“Ooh! We could go see them?!” Daniel got excited, the prospect of seeing their friends doing a lot to temper the edge of Max leaving. He was sad Max was going but he understood. This wasn’t that new to him. Being able to see people and have fun during the absence was new, though. 

Max left grumpily after lots of hugs and kitty cuddles, and promises of texting and facetimes. Lando watched it all gleefully but said nothing. He was texting Charles however.

They ended up at Alex’s shortly after Max confirmed he was taxiing on the runway and Daniel was very happy to be surrounded by all the animals who were trying to make him feel better. He missed Max already, which was silly of him, but he did. 

“– oh no, we’re staying in tonight. Max would kill me I think.” Daniel tuned into the conversation going on around him to hear Lando’s laughing statement.

“Why?” Daniel looked at the other three humans with wide curious eyes. 

“Well there’s a party tonight at Sass’– it's a night club and yes Max named Sassy after it” Alex and Lily laughed, always finding it hilarious that Max chose night clubs to name his cats.

“Can we go?” Daniel loved a party, they were always so much fun.

“I don’t think Max would like that?” Lando hedged.

“Why would it matter?” Daniel tilted his head questioning. He looked down to the cats who were offering their own two cents. “No, I’m not too young MooMoo. My birthday is coming up! I’ll be 23!”

Lando and Alex looked at each other briefly, well that answered a lingering question. Maybe they should have the cats interrogate him more often.

“Why would Max be mad?” Daniel asked Lando again.

“I don’t think he'll be happy about me taking you to a club while he’s gone.” Lando shrugged and Lily realized immediately that that had been the wrong thing to say. The way how Daniel’s face fell into what could only be described as crestfallen.

“Oh.” Daniel’s shoulders sagged and his entire demeanor became fragile. Lando’s eyes widened in horror– what did he do wrong???

“Whoa whoa!” Lando rushed forward with his hands up and flapping in anxiety. There was a problem and he was immediately out of his depth.

“Daniel, what do you mean?” It was Lily that settled into the kitten pile.

“I just– I thought Max was good. Jimmy and Sassy said so.” Daniel whispered, he seemed on the verge of tears.

“He is!” Lando all but cried. This wasn’t good at all.

“Why would you think he’s not good?” Lily again, god bless her.

“Because he’s just like my ex. I wasn’t allowed to go anywhere if he was away.” Daniel slowly petted Stan who nudged his small head into his palm. “He didn’t like animals. But Max likes animals?” Daniel sounded more confused than sad and that was something they could work with.

“Was your last ex controlling?” Lily asked quietly and Daniel smiled sadly at her. 

“He didn’t like when I sang.”

“Max loves it when you sing!” Lando chimed in again, wanting to do anything to prove that Max was good.

“He didn’t like it when I did anything without him either.” Daniel looked over at Lando, waiting for him to disprove. It was Alex that came to Max’s rescue.

“It's not that Max wouldn’t want you to go…it's more that he’d like to come with us. He was sad when he learned about the party because he knew he wouldn’t be here.”

Daniel looked from Alex to Lando before looking down at the cats, Stan and Frooky were very vocal.

“So he won’t be mad if we go?” Daniel asked again, wanting them to confirm plainly.

“No, he won’t be mad. You can probably even call him when he lands?” Alex suggested and Daniel shrugged.

“Do you have anything to wear? We could go shopping.” Lily suggested, smiling widely when Daniel looked over at her.

Later after they’ve shopped and bought way too many things. Lando asked if they should cover his tattoos and Daniel agreed so they didn’t bring too much attention to themselves. Sophie told him that not many people were magically adept and Daniel knew that meant that they might be mean. 

Daniel chose an outfit of skinny jeans with rips at the knees and a shirt with long sleeves and a large 3 on the back– it was his favourite number. When everyone was ready, and after lots of goodbye scritches to the cats and dogs– they went to Sass.

They found Charles easily in the VIP section and Daniel spent majority of the time on the dancefloor in the crush of bodies. His grin was infectious while he threw his hands in the air and danced without abandon. The drinks at Sass were delicious and he’d had many offers from people wanting to buy him more. They were all so nice!!

He was staggering back to their booth when he felt his phone ringing. It was Max!

“Maxy hi!” Daniel’s grin was happy and wide when he answered the video call. His face might be too close to the screen but he couldn’t really judge the distance right now.

“Daniel! You look like you’re having a good time” 

Daniel swayed where he stood, both to the music and because he couldn’t hold himself still. He needed to dance. The pretty drinks told him to dance. “Maxy Maxy Maxy!” Daniel sang into the phone, and Max watched him bemusedly, if a bit worried.

“Daniel, where is Lando?”

Daniel shrugged, he didn’t know. He hadn’t seen Lando, Charles, Alex or Lily in a while. The dance floor was large.

“How many drinks have you had?”

“People here are sooo nice, Maxy.” Daniel wasn’t sure what Max said, it was so loud but the music felt good!

Even through the shitty connection, Max could see that Daniel was drunk. But none of his friends were around and he was stuck in Keynes. 

“Maxy, I’m gonna go dance again ok? I Miss you a lot!!” And Daniel hung up, fluttering into the mass of bodies once again. Max watched as the call ended in his hand, his stomach churned with worry even as his heart leaped a little at Daniel’s drunken confession.

Part 11

[siriannatan]

Scratches, Tattoos and Red Roses

I remembered I once wrote a similar one shot, re-read it, and decided to try writing a longer fic. Might be more than 3 chapters but that's the plan for the moment.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55860592/chapters/141836842

Jimmy was an absolute mess. He knew it but couldn't be bothered as he knelt on the living room floor. Sobbing uncontrollably over a tangled mess of bandages. Sweater he bought in a hurry due to rain was long forgotten by the door but the damage it caused to his arms was still there. Long angry, red lines five minutes off from bleeding.

Not that he cared as he scratched his neck. He was far too upset to care about anything. What was he supposed to say to Scott and fWhip when they're back? He couldn't tell them what happened at his outing with his brothers. Not after he insisted on going after they tried to convince him it was a bad idea. It was actually a terrible idea.

He was so busy feeling bad for himself and crying he didn't realize Scott was home until all he could see was his perfectly white button up. “Hush, it's all okay, I'm home, will fix your arms in just a second,” Scott said gently as he cradled Jimmy. Who just cried harder, grabbing at Scott's shirt. “Let it all out, don't worry about my stupid shirt,” Scott chuckled as Jimmy tried to pull back once he realized he was likely running one of Scott's work shirts.

“But…” Jimmy started but got gently shushed.

“No buts, I got more,” Scott shook his head. Jimmy felt it more than saw it. “I'll check if…”

“I'm hom… oh my god, Jimmy are you okay?” fWhip said as soon as he walked in. Soaked from driving a motorbike in the rain.

“Better now,” Jimmy nodded, sitting back to let Scott look over his arms. “I kind of stormed out of the coffee shop and forgot my sweater…” he gave the simplest explanation. He didn't want to give any more details if he could help it.

Scott nodded. “fWhip dear, please go shower before you catch something,” he told fWhip with a stern look.

fWhip sighed. “Fine, but I'm making dinner, you'll need to get out of the suit eventually, no?”

Scott agreed so after giving both Jimmy and Scott a kiss fWhip went upstairs to shower and change.

Jimmy watched in silence, after taking his shirt off, as Scott gently cleaned his arms and neck with disinfectant before applying spray to calm the rashes. “What did they do this time?” Scott asked as he moved to the bandages.

“I don't want to talk about it,” Jimmy tried to avoid the topic but Scott just gave him a stern look. He really wanted to know.

“Should I call Lizzie so she can grill Joel about it?” He asked and Jimmy sighed. There was no doubt Scott would do it.

“They tried to set me up on a date with some friend of Grian, I told them I'm perfectly happy with you and stormed off,” Jimmy shrugged. His oh so lovely brothers had no clue about fWhip. “I'm fine now, no hate on the guy, he had no clue I was seeing anyone,” he quickly added before Scott could ask who.

“Who was it?” fWhip asked as he walked down the stairs. “A co-worker was out longer for lunch, and then said something about a messed up blind date,” he added, arms crossed over his chest. “And fresh shirt,” he added as Scott finished the bandages with tiny kisses to Jimmy's wrists.

“Tango,” Jimmy admitted with a sigh. How many other blind dates could have happened today? “But it's not his fault, he had no clue I'm taken, please don't be mean to him.”

“Just for you I won't,” fWhip sighed. “I think I avoided Gem enough, we should just date officially,” he offered as Scott was about to go change.

“Are you sure? You always said she's… a bit protective,” Scott asked, just to be sure.

“Her protectiveness goes the other way to Grian and Joel's so it'll be all fine, she'll love you both,” fWhip assured as he helped Jimmy stand up. “Go change CEO-boy,” he chuckled and Scott went upstairs with a chuckle, and all the medical supplies.

Jimmy smiled at the idea but didn't say anything, just yawned. “Can I help in ANY way?” He asked as he followed fWhip to the kitchen despite being told to just sit on the couch.

“Be pretty?” fWhip grinned as he pulled out some leftover he planned to repurpose with some wraps. “Fine, you can make tea and set the table,” he quickly bed under Jimmy's pout.

Jimmy gladly did that even if he wished he was trusted doing more than reheating leftovers when his boyfriends were at work. He just got rashes and bruises easily. He could cook. Well… Scott and fWhip did cook pretty well too. Maybe one day he could surprise them?

“You two spoil me too much,” Jimmy complained once he ran out of things fWhip would let him help with.

“I'd say we don't spoil you enough if you still want to help,” Scott announced he's back. In plain white t-shirt and light blue shorts. Jimmy pouted at him.

“You do remember that I'm perfectly capable of cooking?” He grumbled, and gave Scott an unimpressed side eye.

Scott nodded in agreement as fWhip announced dinner was ready. Jimmy ate mostly in silence as fWhip and Scott planned a shopping list. Their fridge was almost empty. Luckily they both had a day off on Saturday so all three of them could go grocery shopping together. And to pick up more bandages and Jimmy's prescription.

“Did you remember to take a day off on Tuesday for the optometrist appointment?” Jimmy asked fWhip. He only made an appointment because Jimmy bothered him about it.

“I did, don't worry,” fWhip rolled his eyes but did smile. Jimmy nodded with a huff before another sip of his juice.

“I'm sure you'll look cute in glasses,” Scott tried to lift fWhip's mood. “While we're at appointments, we're still good on Friday?” Scott was talking to fWhip about getting a tattoo done by him for weeks now. Sadly Jimmy couldn't get one due to his condition but fully supported his boyfriends.

“Of course. Would you like to come along?” fWhip asked Jimmy. “Hold Scott's hand and stuff,” he chuckled, grimacing as Scott kicked him under the table.

“Umm… would Tango be around? O don't blame him for anything just…” Jimmy mumbled nervously.

“I think he's working then, but I can ask him, I promise I'll be nice, to not go to the lobby when you two arrive?” fWhip offered.

“No need I'll be fine,I just wanted to know to, you know, prepare myself mentally,” Jimmy shook his head but had a feeling fWhip would be talking to Tango.

“Mhm… oh wait. There's a chance I'll need to be at the studio on Tuesday, just a couple hours to cover for Cleo,” fWhip suddenly remembered and pulled his phone out to scroll for a particular message. “I'll be off before the appointment, I promise.”

“I can drive you in the morning,” Jimmy didn't protest at all. He was kind of excited to be recognised not only as Scott's boyfriend but also fWhip's.

“Aww, you two are going to have a cute date while I'll be stuck at the office, not fair,” Scott faked a pout.

“We'll get you a souvenir,” Jimmy chuckled. And they say he's the cute one.

Scott laughed at that and requested a cake. Jimmy was more than okay with a cake. If he could get fWhip in on his plan then even better.

When Jimmy woke up the next morning, finally fully rested and relaxed, it was just him and still sleeping fWhip. Scott must have been out jogging. Good for him, Jimmy thought as he glared at the new red marks on his arms. There were no doubt more hidden by the sheets. He just sighed and hugged fWhip. It wasn't that bad. In the past he'd wake up with bloodied sheets.

“Hmm, mornin’,” fWhip murmured into Jimmy's shirt. His morning voice was pretty nice. Heavy and gravely. Jimmy was only willing to share it with Scott. Not that he was often long enough in bed to hear it. “Sleep well?” He asked and yawned.

“Morning to you too, I slept great, would be even nicer if someone was here to cuddle with us,” Jimmy sighed in faked disappointment. Mostly faked. He understood why Scott was so set on keeping his exercise regiment but still sometimes wishes he'd stay in bed longer.

He could faintly hear the front door open and close. Scott was back. “We should get up,” fWhip sighed and sat up. Jimmy allowed himself a moment to marvel at the ink lines of the roses on fWhip's arms and surrounding the rib cage perfectly matching his, shift and move as fWhip did. “Should I carry you downstairs?” fWhip chuckled.

“I don't know, maybe?” Jimmy grinned. Scott wouldn't be too happy but it'd be fun. And it wasn't like he believed fWhip would do it.

Not that he got a chance to. “Aren't you two cute,” Scott chuckled as he saw Jimmy draped over fWhip. Both still in bed.

“You could be cute with us from time to time, you knoooow,” fWhip’s pretend hurt dissolved into a yawn. “Come on, Jim, breakfast and then shower,” he said while gently patting Jimmy's thigh. He just mumbles something between yawns but did follow fWhip downstairs as Scott showered first.

fWhip made them pancakes. From Scott's homemade mix. Jimmy made their coffee, humming along to the radio playing quietly in the background between yawns.

Breakfast and a shower followed by Scott redoing the bandages woke Jimmy up somewhat. “How's work?” He asked, watching Scott's fingers deftly work with the bandage.

“Good, few clients are being difficult and complain about everything but we got them handled,” Scott hummed looking up for a second. “Something bothering you?”

“No, just… curious. Don't you sometimes miss not being the guy in charge?”

“Not really, I don't have to listen to clients complain, just filter some emails that should have been sent to a different department,” Scott shrugged. Jimmy smiled. He liked seeing his boyfriends be happy. “What about you? Are you bored while we're at work?”

Jimmy hummed. “Not really, I know how to keep busy. Like do some light cleaning, laundry and stuff. Nothing that would irritate my skin but… I'm happy if that's what you're wondering,” he smiled and stole a kiss.

“Wow, I think I'll melt from the cuteness,” fWhip was back from the shower with a grin. “What got you two so clingy?”

“Nothing, I just love you two a lot,” Jimmy grinned at him.

“All done,” Scott announced and passed Jimmy a shirt. He dutifully got it on, followed by a cardigan. All picked out by Scott.

“If you ever get bored of being CEO and architecture you could try fashion,” Jimmy mused with fWhip nodding in agreement.

“Yeah, yeah, but for now we have places to be,” Scott rolled his eyes but a fond smile was tugging on his lips.

[romanstheory]

I'm The One a Jey Uso Fic Part 6/?

Warnings: Violence, Language, arguing

Word Count: 1,013

Last Part

18 +

We land at our next destination, still high on our steamy session hours before. We exit the plane and immediately head to the arena. "I'll catch up with y'all, I got some bidness to handle" Jimmy says gesturing away from us. Jey and I walks hand in hand down the hall to catering. Everyone seems to be staring, but neither of us really cared. I've never been this public with a relationship, especially at work. It felt right, like everything happened in perfect timing.

Solo walks passed, seeing us holding hands. His eyes look down at our hands then dart up at us. You could almost see the steam coming from his ears. His brown skin tinted red now he grits his teeth and quickly walks the other direction, punching a nearby piece of equipment. He muttered what I assume to be curse words to himself while he storms away like an angry child. The sound startled everyone in the room, it was loud and abrupt. "I guess he's still pissed he took that L" Jey says cackling. Everyone else in the room chuckles.

I swallow loudly and fake chuckle along with everyone else..... My appetite is gone. "You good?" Jey asks me, noticing how unsettled I am. "Yeah..... Yeah I'm fine" I say "That was just a lot". Jey brushes it off and continues eating his food. I pick at my food and twiddle my thumbs until he finishes his food. The clock is ticking.... Almost show time. I'm still put off by the incident earlier while Jey and I stretch together. "You sure you're good, you haven't said much since earlier. Did I do something?" Jey asks concerned. "No you didn't do anything, I'm just in my head a lot. It'll be fine" I say dismissing his concerns.

Solo walks by again, my body tenses up. He stares a hole through me. "What the fuck are you staring at uce?" Jey says bucking up at his younger brother. "Yall together now?" Solo says unfazed by his older brothers antics. "Yeah and what?" Jey replies quickly. For the first time in my life, i'm stuck.... I have nothing to say. My entire life with Jey is in Solo's hands right now. "Please... PLEASE" I say to myself while I stare at Solo straight faced.

Solo frowns and nods his head, looking at me and then Jey. "Cool" He says looking at me once again, hatred and sadness fill his eyes. Jey's music begins to play and he grabs my hand to pull me through the curtain with him. Solo's eyes stay locked on mine, his arms folded and my body full of anxiety. We do our segment, the crowd loved every second of it. For a little while I forgot about what just happened. I pull the curtain back, and there Solo is..... Waiting. "Uce why are you still here?" Jey says in a hostile tone.

"I was gonna spare you, but why would I? She didn't spare me" Solo says. Jey looks at me confused and then back at Solo. "Joseph..." I say. "I don't wanna hear that shit tell him why we really stopped being tag partners" Solo barks. "What the fuck is he talking about?" Jey asks me, getting angry. I am once again speechless, a feeling I deeply despise. "You like that little heart tattoo between her titties?" Solo says with no emotion. Jey is infuriated "Tell me why the fuck he knows that!" Jey screams. "Her ass is soft huh? That was my favorite part" He continues.

"You better shut the fuck up before I break your fucking jaw" Jey screams louder than I ever thought possible. "It was one time!" I scream "We were drunk Jey it was one time". Solo and I got drunk one night, and we had sex. I regretted it once I sobered up, but Solo caught feelings. I told him I didn't feel anything for him, he screwed me over, and here we are now. My stomach sank over the thought that Jey may want nothing else to do with me.

"It was a drunk mistake Jey I swear" I plead "He thought it would turn into something that I told him never would and then he turned on me in the ring". Jey quickly gets in Solo's face. "She played me" Solo says "But that pussy feels good". Jey swings on Solo knocking him to the floor, attracting even more attention onto us. Jimmy comes running in and he and I pull them apart. "What the hell is goin on here?" Jimmy says holding Solo's hands behind his back.

"He took her!" Solo screams. "Man fuck you!" Jey screams while I hold him back. "You're delusional Joseph" I scream back at him. "You had me fooled bitch the way you fucked me I would have thought you loved me" Solo barks. Jey breaks from my grip and rushes toward Solo punching him right in his face. Jimmy lets go of him and he falls to the ground. Jey mounts Solo, punching him over and over again ruthlessly. Jimmy tries to pull Jey away but isn't successful. Solo pushes Jey off and they exchange blows before finally being pulled apart.

"I'm not the fucking villain!" Solo yells while he's being pulled down the hall. "Baby.." I say softly to Jey "I don't wanna talk right now" Jey says pulling away from me and walking away leaving Jimmy and I in the hallway alone in silence. "What was that about?" Jimmy asks. "He found out about the Solo thing" I reply softly. Jimmy sighs heavily.... He already knew the situation but promised he wouldn't say anything as long as I swore it was just a drunk moment. It was...... I have no feelings for Solo.... But apparently he couldn't say the same. "I hope that didn't just ruin everything" I say on the verge of tears. "Nah.... He's crazy about you. He would have just walked away if that was going to ruin it". I hope he's right.... Jimmy is always right....

[thespectralvision]

Mr. Victor Shade, SWORD's leading expert on AI, aka The Vision's mundane alias.

More concept work for my comic plans, where after Westview Vision is found by Monica, Darcy, and Jimmy who help him build a life and remember who he is. Monica offers him a job at SWORD with Hayward out of the way, to reform it and return it to her mother's vision (pardon the pun). Vision helps out with this process, because who better to be watching and ensuring there is ethical treatement of AI and other 'sentient weapons' than the most advanced synthetic being on Earth? It will also give him an opportunity to explore who he is, and how he ended up being turned into Hayward's weapon in WandaVision.

(I have no affiliation with Marvel/the MCU - this is purely a fan project, and I know if we get Vision Quest as a series it will likely go in a very different direction. That's the joy of the Multiverse though - anything is possible, and I love telling *my* Vision's story through art and my stories.)

Breakdown of my process below the cut, as this was painted as a quick demo for a friend asking about how I do things and I enjoyed it enough to finish it:

My process has changed a little over the years but remains roughly the same. The level of depth and detail just means more hours refining the painting down more and more with additional layers and passes of light, shadow, and texture.

Before I start a piece, even just sketches to unwind, I gather reference. Sometimes I'll just see a photo I like of Paul/Lizzie, or sometimes an unrelated image where the pose or lighting or ambience speaks to me. I also use my collection for reference - my statues and Hot Toy figuresm to get the right lighting and angles, especially for Vision and all his robot lines (though admittedly these days I don't always use a reference and just go from memory...I think I draw this silly robot too much).

Once I've got a concept and some references gathered I set up my canvas. Currently I use CSP and I love it, and I have a variety of texture files I've purchased that mimic different types of paper. I like working on these as it feels more natural with the pencil, ink, and marker brushes I use. Once I have my references set up in the file I'll do a rough sketch, blocking out proportions and basic shapes. I'll set a mid-tone grey background as well, and I almost always sketch in color. I like choosing a color that represents the character for me - bright blue for Vizh, red for Wanda. I have a Loki sketch I need to finish for my sister and I used green for him. It helps me capture the 'energy' of the character, and this sketch remains a part of the finished painting even as I refine.

Once I've got a rough sketch down I'll start working on more detail. Sometimes this will be inks, sometimes just another pass with pencil. Depends on the piece and what I'm going for. This step can happen multiple times for complicated paintings, and usually I'll cycle through steps 2-6 multiple times for a large piece.

Once I have the lines down I'll paint flats. Most of the time I'm using a big brush that emulates a marker, because I like the texture it gives, especially when layered. I'm very mess and use an eraser brush to clean up the lines, and sometimes I'll go back and tweak the line art until I like the look. During this phase I'll also lay down some details - freckles, scars, details like eyes, tattoos, jewelry as well. When painting Vizh I like getting the texture in his robotic eyes done early on, and usually refine them again towards the end.

The real fun starts here - I'll block in my lighting, usually just going with whaveter I'm feeling in the moment. I like playing with gradients and layering them in different ways to create a more dynamic image, and then I start blocking in shadows with soft brushes.

More lighting. I start adding top layers to further stretch the dynamic. I like overlays, and adding a sort of dreamlike/surreal filter through the color. I'll also start adding in highlights to contrast the shadows and work in small sections to render the details. I always start big and decrease my brush sizes for detail and work in layers and stages, checking the reference as well as the painting's lighting (which is not always the same as my reference) as I go.

Texture texture texture. I like texture. This step sometimes happens earlier, but once I'm happy with my actual *painting* of my subject(s) I'll start figuring out background elements and textures for visual appeal.

[clarajohnson]

the magicians s2e6

quentin coldwater you are so goddamn embarrassing i love you

once again alice is such a fun fucking character. she liked when q did pretend cirque du soleil ????? i could cry !!!!

margo's outfits are improving but i'm looking forward to when we get past the amazon corsets

the only thing better than "no offense q but you're a little crazy right now" is him blithely acknowledging it, "maybe, yeah"

my children loved me i was a good mother!

NIFFIN ALICE I LOVE YOU FOREVER !!!!!!!!!!!!!

i couldn't possibly make fun of q for trying to summon niffin alice like sorry you would do it too for alice quinn

best bitches !!!! they could've parented a demon baby together it would've been okay

okay i think he actually would've liked a unicorn milk latte. or have requested one in earnest at least.

like i need more people calling me daddy!

something hale and summer do is they occasionally adopt the same affect, the same intonation, it's such a subtle thing and it doesn't come up all the time but it so clearly telegraphs that these people are completely tethered to each other

"i know my daughter she's trying to protect us" oh PLEASE

ughhhhhhhhhhh i forgot about loria. oh my god fuck your parents dude. BUT ELIOT DON'T !!!!!

cin-ci-nahhh-tee.

SCREAM at the virgin queen margo

god fillory is so much fun like it's total bullshit all the time but it's also SO fun i enjoy that half of the plot so much

what's fen's title? do we know? queen consort? she has to have a title right

"if ess was a girl and you found pussy you know interesting in a sometimes you like thai food kind of way"

not to do this because i do this constantly all the time but margo hanson is my best friend i'm in love with her

don't worry the thing will not be born AUGH once again i feel like this is such a randomly traumatic plot to force on julia

niffin alice has terrible posture. somebody get her a better niffin bra!

q thinks people's love for him is so conditional every time it comes up it makes me so sad. also i would like for him to get a better hair routine i know grief and everything but dude it's stringy.

i remember when i first watched this episode i wanted daniel to have died from falling off the ladder he doesn't even deserve all that i was just mad at him for being a shit dad

ess is hot but not hot enough to act like this. you're a virgin to me sweetheart? i think margo should be allowed to kill him.

actually margo should be allowed to kill me if she wants to

queliot obviously first most tragic romance in the magicians but fen/baylor is possibly ranked second when you think about it. wait kady/penny. okay fen/baylor is top three.

JESUS CHRIST I FORGOT ABOUT DANA'S WHOLE THING

even i studied and i'm dead!

it's so sweet that she has dreams about forgetting to study. sorry i feel like somebody applauding disney for having a gay character but i genuinely like the female characters in this show so much. they get to do all kinds of shit! and feel shit!

yeah honestly the reynard plot occasionally veers into an almost anti-choice rhetoric, i could have done without like 90% of this plot

i love asking questions that have a 50/50 shot of being resolved in this episode but do we ever find out who dana's son is

once again! best bitches!

you guys have been so royally fucked with! sometimes the florida jumps out of him

"she never figured out how to be a woman" is such an insane thing to say. the magicians should've dug into motherhood more. haha. wrote a thesis on motherhood voice.

I FORGOT ALICE WAS IN THE TATTOO OH MY GODDDDDDD

cripes reynard is so fucking scary

benedict you are an angel

"we're gonna put our jimmy choos so far up your ass you're gonna taste next season" as a declaration of war is unbelievably good

[nanabrainrot]

I love your Lalo work ! Do you think we could get some stories about the way people react to Lalo and the MC (from To Bear a Cross, Companion Dog, etc) ? Like what did the people he hurt (for her) do ? How do other characters in BCS feel about the two of them ? Are they weirded out by the relationship ? Again, love your work <3

THANK YOUUU i was actually working on that already and made a little compilation of moments where people went "hey wtf is going on with that guy and his wife so enjoy these blurbs with Kim, Jim, Nacho, and MC <3 I might repost these in a chaptered version on AO3 to fill up my Lalo tab lol - ty for the ask!!

A Moment with Kim

Jimmy was confused at the woman sitting across from him in his apartment, accompanied by Nacho of course, but Kim was even more so. A pair of deep eyes seemed fixed on Kim alone, her face devoid of expression. He could tell she was matured yet was not positive if she broke 30 yet with the lack of lines in her face and the lack of white or grays accumulating in contrast to the silver streaks in Lalo’s hair and his face lined with wrinkles. “Uhh, Nacho, care to explain the little lady that’s been sitting here in silence since you got in? I can’t be breaking confidentiality with Lalo of all people unless you want me dead in the desert with my own balls in my mouth.”

Nacho sighed, glancing at the woman, all dolled up, who still staring at Kim’s face who was now shifting uncomfortably.

“Don’t worry, she’s Lalo’s wife,” Nacho responded lowly, watching you sit still like a tree on a day without wind. Jimmy narrowed his eyes, looking toward her a little closer and realizing that Lalo did not have a ring but in fact had a tattoo of a ring. Her finger lacked a tattoo of a ring, but a large diamond was shining on her finger. He wondered the insane price of it given Lalo’s seemingly endless supply of money of questionable origin. His charming nature screamed “player” to Jimmy so the concept of him having a wife at home was something beyond his imagination, especially a woman as meek and docile as the jittery woman staring his wife down.

“Oh! I didn’t know he was married,” Jimmy laughed awkwardly, leaning over the coffee table to offer his hand to shake. Her eyes moved off Kim and to the hand that was extended but not up to Jimmy’s face, something that caught Kim’s attention. Her brows twitched a little and her hands that were on the arm of the chair came together to fold together. Moments pass. No handshake.

Awkwardly, Jimmy withdraws the hand and uses it to scratch his neck. The eyes around the room focus on Lalo’s wife and her ensemble. She wore a deep gray v-neck with a golden chain about her neck dipping into the fabric that exposed her chest and a pair of black flared pants, like a yoga instructor would wear.. The little mary janes peeked out from the flares, shiny and bright. Jimmy could just about make out a piece of gold about her ankles with something written on them. The hoops in her ears obscured by the hair draping over her shoulders and it seems like she had cut choppy bangs solely for the purpose of hiding her face.

“Um, so how are you Mrs. Lalo? What brings you here with my friend Nacho?” he coughs in that raspy voice still trying to grin through the thick air she seemed to bring with her.

“I’m okay,” she murmured, low and barely audible, “I just wanted to check on his bail and stuff… I don’t really leave without him and he sent Nacho to get me to come get some air and get updates from you.” Her eyes moved back to Kim, staring again, with deep eyes that seemed to lack any spark. It was like looking at the glass eyes of a doll. “His bail? The hearing is tomorrow so we can work from there,” Jimmy started, “but it might be millions for him on these charges. Sorry about that Mrs. Lalo, I’m trying my best rest assured.”

“Mrs. Salamanca,” you replied a little firmer than Nacho would expect from your quiet nature and prior encounters with you. Although his first encounter you appeared shameless in your actions, but he assumed you only had any trace of confidence when you were in Lalo’s presence. Your body without him was tense like ice and suddenly melted to a cool water when he came around. But he couldn’t come around. Not unless Jimmy stepped up and got him out on bail.

“Hm?”

“His first name is Lalo. His last name is Salamanca. You would call me Mrs. Salamanca,” she responded, her eyes still on Kim and her knees turning more toward the woman. The attention on Kim appeared confusing at first but as Kim and Jimmy shared glances, she leans forward and you keen with interest at it with a head tilt. Eye contact.

You give her eye contact, something you deny Jimmy and, she noticed, denied Nacho too.

“Would you rather me tell you?” You seem to relax at this offer, your body releasing the tension at something in the room. As if a breath you were holding finally left.

“Yes please. But you aren’t Lalito’s lawyer, you’re the lawyer’s wife, no? Is that okay?” you inquire, brows narrowed at the woman. Nacho and Jimmy share looks over you, realizing the source of the tension seemed to be that the two were men. You kept looking to Kim because she was a woman too.

Why though? It couldn’t be a fear of men; you laid in bed with one of the scariest ones Jimmy had ever met. He wonders this internally as he and Nacho eye you lean toward her with your hands cupping your knees and shoulders coming a bit forward. “Spousal privilege. What’s his is mine and what’s mine is his, including his business if there’s a need for it. It’s a bit hard for Jim – Saul to tell if you aren’t looking at him though because he can’t tell if you’re listening.” You avert your gaze, shifting like you’re suddenly embarrassed and your mouth twitches like you want to smile but can’t like. Like it hurts to smile.

“I know…” you mutter, scratching your neck sheepishly, “I don’t look at or talk to men. Lalito is jealous and I respect that.”

A pause. Kim’s body language changes in disbelief, “So Lalo doesn’t let you look at or talk to men?”

“It’s not that I’m not allowed to. I do it so he doesn’t get violent with them. He thinks every guy has a bad motive with me,” you reply, “so I just don’t look at or talk to men so he doesn’t get mad at the guy. He’s impulsive, Mrs. Goodman.”

“You can call me Kim,” she breathes, leaning back into her chair with a sigh like she’s trying to analyze your personality and meekness in relation to Lalo. The blonde glances at the two men and asks, “Can you two just like step into another room then so she isn’t trying to dodge looking at you? I don’t know how often she comes out so it’d be nice if she can look around freely.” Jimmy jumps at the opportunity to leave the room, looking relieved, and tugging Nacho by the arm into the adjacent bedroom.

“That’s a great idea, babe! I’ll be in here, haha, adios!” Jimmy salutes as he ushers Nacho, who is muttering in confusion and protest and the contact Jimmy is having with him as he closes the door. You can hear the muffled conversation between them, Jimmy’s chipper gravely tone against the cool harshness of Nacho’s serious voice.

The air is different without men. Without any cologne or harsh musky fragrances; it feels perverted to know what another man smells like no less what his hands feel like if you decided to shake his hand. Lalo probably would’ve swatted it away you consider. It was too risky to potentially displease him and it was a decision made out of respect. “Thanks Kim. Not many people notice I’m… hesitant around men.”

“No problem,” she smiles tensely with a feeling of pity in her belly starting to make it twist. Did Jimmy make mistakes? Sure, every man does, but she can only imagine the kind of man Lalo is to you. Your meek energy and refusal to address men plants a seed of worry in her she can’t ignore but must in order to proceed. “His hearing is tomorrow and they’ll set bail for him. Then he’ll pay the bail and be home and you two can head back to Mexico. They’re just setting it up and paying it,” she smiles warmly.

The tension doesn’t leave you. You look like every muscle was locked in place as you peer up with deep eyes through your lashes. The chain on your neck says Lalo, she realizes. As do the hoops in your ears. The four fingers that weren’t your thumbs had LALO in big letters painted onto your acrylic nails of square, milky white. “Okay, how long will it take, Kim?”

“Depending on how long the money takes to come in, a day to five days-“

Your brows furrow, then relax. You sink back into the chair like a disappointed child; you likely weren’t used to being apart Kim realized. The indicators of possession on you made her stomach queasy. He was charming, sure, but he did everything without much thought. He punished ruthlessly and frequently; what did that mean for you?

Then why did you miss him so much?

“Okay, Kim,” you murmur, “nothing else?” She swallows, realizing the weight of your presence. Some insane drug king pin’s wife who looked more like a doll than a human, actions so calculated it was like you were a ball joint doll who was being twisted by invisible hands. Your back so straight, hair without a flyaway, and the deep eyes looking but not seeing. Looking but not acknowledging. Like she was a chair or a table but not a human. Unimportant.

“Nothing. Just hope bail is reasonable and the money comes quickly,” she replies with a forced smile. A small hum of acknowledgement, before you lean closer to her a bit over the coffee table but her behind still stuck to the less than luxurious chairs you seemed to be used to. “Can you call out and let Ignacio I’m ready to go home? I don’t talk to men, you know that now.”

The pit grows deeper. Lalo seemed to like you, why else would he tattoo a ring on? Drag you up from Mexico with him on business? Does he love you? Kim swallows and smiles. Does he hit you?

“Nacho, she said she’s ready to go home.”

 It’s stupid. To look at the window at you driving away, but your head still hangs low as Nacho opens the door for you. You slide into the seat like your body made of liquid. Like you’re a doll. He closes the door, glancing up at Kim’s watchful eyes through the window above, and shrugs, as if to say: I don’t know either. Kim just wondered if she wanted to know.

She holds Jimmy a little tighter tonight, grateful for something she didn’t have for once.

A Moment with Nacho

On the drive home, Nacho only hears you sniffle. Turned from him all girlish with your knees facing the window as if you were one of his girls all mad at him. But you aren’t mad, just frustrated, that much he can tell. Your first meeting had been awkward but had been steered like a ship by Lalo who would ask you to do something and you would do it. Nacho wonders if you would hesitate if Lalo asked you to stand up and put a knife in your side.

You don’t behave awkwardly despite being seen like that, with eyes all narrow and wet. You loom around Lalo naturally as if his shadow. He wondered about you, thoughts picking at him as he drove to your temporary home with Lalo. Nothing was out of place thanks to you. Febreezes and diffusers listlessly filled the air with subtle scents that mask your probably expensive perfume. Again, your eyes flit sporadicallly as you take in the house when you get in. Nacho can tell you’re fidgety again which is likely from your anxiety being apart from Lalo. You scurry off to your room with no words nor glance, just the sound of your shoses clanking then socked feet padding to your depressingly big and cold bed toward the back of the house past the living room. A door slams and it’s so quiet he still hears you weep.

There’s no way you were right.

The way you existed as a moon of Lalo’s, as his shadow, his sex doll, Nacho wondered if any of your life wasn’t based around keeping him happy. Did you go to college? What was your favorite book? Do you have any hobbies?

The sobs lull down to sniffles he hears as he settles in the sofa to enjoy another sleepless night protecting Lalo’s wife. He fears he knows the answers, in your one word responses: no, no, and no.

 A Moment with Jimmy

Jimmy is surprised that Lalo feels anything at all.

Him coming out of the courthouse, a free man, already had you in tears. Your face obscured by hair as you frantically got out of the passenger, only because Lalo opened the door, and threw yourself to his chest. Your arms were tight on him, like he was going to vanish at any second, and, despite the distance, he could hear small and whining sniffles. “Shhh, only some days not too bad huh?” he coos, petting her head before laying a loud cartoonish kiss on her head still buried in the florals of his loud button-up.

“So long, Lalo,” Jimmy could barely make out the muffled mumbles as Lalo pushed you by the shoulders. He had heard from Nacho that you weren’t necessary very expressive but when seen talking abt Lalo you tended to break. Often your conversations had to be initiated by someone else and often you only uttered soft one word responses: yes, no, or the occasional I don’t know. He never got a clear look at your face until now and he feels like he saw something he shouldn’t have just seeing your expressionless face all warped with tears. It lacked the perfect makeup you often had but you still looked so put together; no doubt luxurious treatments and products kept the flesh of your face so clear with the rich man rubbing at your biceps and kissing your forehead.

The big hoops he had seen replaced with little studs that looked like initials and your nightgown looked like a black sundress and fuzzy slippers showed your perfect, pedicured toes. He slams the passenger shut and opens the backseat for you, which you sniffle and scoot into immediately, like an instinct.

You were pliant and reacted to things like a reflex, as easy as blinking or breathing, you slip into the backseat and look out the window at him after settling into your seatbelt. Sheepish, wanton, and distraught. Jimmy had seen starving strays look less longingly at dangling meat.

“Thanks for making that trip for me, Mr. Goodman. You go home to enjoy your wife and me,” he grins a sly smile and winks, “I’ll enjoy mine. Buenos noches!” It’s a dark red shirt with a pattern on it that Jimmy can’t describe as Lalo slips into the passenger. He looks all warm and giddy, that soulless grayhaired bastard, and only looks back at you as his driver pulls off. It makes his stomach sink, watching you interact.

The deep eyes all wet with tears over a man with a kill count he wasn’t sure was under a hundred and you, who wouldn’t look at a man unless asked to. He recalls the face Kim made talking to you, your face all expressive out of nowhere and your hands twitching at the suggestion he would be away for five days. Your cold demeanor desperate with Lalo, your fidgety hands finding their purpose in pawing at him and clinging to him. It was like watching an animal documentary showing animals mated for life, like watching an addict beg for a fix.

Your deep eyes never acknowledged him, he notes again. Actually, your eyes never acknowledged anything but Lalo. The deep eyes skipping past the lamp lights, the bricks, and pretty bushes to a man that had him crawling through a desert and killed a civilian. The world was an accessory and Lalo was the main event for you.

When Jimmy gets home, he gurgles his mouthwash and wonders about Kim and her love. Years together and their relationship was natural like breathing and it was healthy, in most respects. But he wondered about the suffocation of a love like that and wondered if any part of the fixation and obsession was worth what he put you through.

Listerine meets the porcelain then vanishes into the drain.

 

A Moment that Matters

You can feel the weight of pity on you. The way people see him linger with you. It raises a question if too nosey, a brow if they are feeling expressive. Jimmy looked at you in disbelief, you felt the eyes on your back. Reduced to tears after some days apart because he was impulsive, because your husband was brutal and cruel and a murderer but he was your husband. That vow, way back when, meant something even if you didn’t want it to.

With Kim, she almost looked disgusted. That white lady feminist jargon that pitied you for this choice, the life you had as if there was any other option. What else was there? Sometimes, there is a vague feeling of anger toward Lalo. He never held to your father, he always insisted, it was because of Eladio or Hector or a bad mood, but it changes. You often brew on a quote your father said in passing, back to you as he washed corn cobs in the kitchen, saying: “Happiness is a choice.” Happiness is a choice. You could wither and weep the rest of your sad life as some maiden that required saving or you could be happy, you could be a happy wife in a big house with a husband who loves you. Everything else could be blurred between the lines. It didn’t need an explanation, it didn’t need Kim’s judgement or Jimmy’s face.

But Nacho. Nacho’s reaction to you left a lot to think about. Nacho always buckled to the demands of others; it was for his father’s safety you understood. It was that way for you too, but he’s a baby in the game. Not positive how young he is, but obviously he was many years your junior. The moment he saw Lalo’s cum in your mouth, your cooing into his side when he got home. He knew you waited by the door for him when his days at work were lengthy. It brings some shame, but not regret. Maybe embarrassment. His shock is what bothers you, as you dozed only a little as he talked of his girlfriends to Lalo. Sometimes they say no.

No? How do you say no? To your man? Your husband? The backbone of your joys and lifestyle; you wondered if it was the same. Kim carried herself in a way that didn’t require Mr. Goodman’s consent or permission. He didn’t loom over her. She was her own and a wife.

It didn’t make sense that Nacho’s girlfriends could say no and not feel their stomachs churn with shame at denying their man his most base pleasures. It would be inhuman. It wouldn’t be wifely. His shock is gone when he brings you home, replaced by the calm of acceptance. It makes your heart sink, for some reason. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. There’s nothing wrong with this, what you have, what you’ve nurtured and watered and accepted.

Happiness is a reflex, like blinking or breathing, when you weep into Lalo’s arms as he shushes you. Coos over you like a sad dog because you are one. You’re not his wife, you once heard him say some years back over a glass of his strongest beer and your little glass of juice (it keeps you youthful), you’re his pet.

What a good way to be; a spoiled pampered dog disciplined with a shock collar until happiness is a reflex. Listening is a reflex. Peace is a choice, you confirm in your head, curled into his side that night as he stares at the ceiling (he’s so handsome like this). This is a good choice road.

[sabspoetic]

Hailey Bieber is such a loser. Idk why, but I have this sudden urge to hate on Biebers, since my last post literally said ‘Justin Bieber sucks’. But, anyway.

The girl literally does everything to be like her husband’s ex girlfriend. She acts like her, copies her interviews and even gets same tattoos in the same spots! It’s so creepy dude!

Okay, numero uno, do y’all remember when she started saying ‘okey-dokey’ in the exact same intonation as Selena, after Selena’s video about that ‘okey-dokey jar’ went viral? No? You should remember it. But, okay, that’s a literal phrase, anyone could say it and blah blah blah.

Number two. Selena got a ‘g’ tattoo on the back of her ear, in the honor of her sister Grace. And Hailey got the exact same tattoo, in the exact same place. She could at least write that G in capital letter, but no, she chose to do an exact copy. Hailey was asked “so Hailey, how do you feel about getting your G tattoo behind your ear?” And she answered “I feel so good. I’m happy with the decision we all came to.” Yeah, bitch. You came with that decision. Selena got it because of her sister, why did Hailey do it? It’s so creepy dude.

Number three. In one interview, Selena was asked “what do you wish people knew more about you?” And she answered “my heart.” She also said later “what’s the one thing you wished people knew better about you, and I said I wanted it to be my heart.” And Hailey had the audacity to say the exact same thing after Selena did! In Jimmy Fallon’s night show she literally said “where I was saying, I wished people just knew my heart.” It really angered me.

Hailey Bieber needs some help. I mean it.

[sc0tters]

omg amber your effort on today’s daily thought was insane tysm!! IF you’ve got the energy for it, i’d love to know the opposite—what part of the boys do our girls love most?

Oooo this one sounds like fun! We are currently meant to have an off day but I’m off to bed and it’s past midnight so technically I’m back to writing…

Jamie loves Gabe’s hair! Like getting to run her fingers through it makes her so happy

Sydney is in awe of Matts height and the size of him in general. Like his hands make her look like a baby and then the fact that he can just throw her over his shoulder will always make her squirm

Gracie loves Elias’ hands because he is always touching her. Most of the time it’s not even weird, he’s usually tracing shapes the inside of her thigh or will just leave his hand resting there to occasionally give it a squeeze incase they have been listening to a long conversation where he hasn’t been able to talk to her.

Victoria loves the freckles Phil gets in the summer cause she can just sit on his lap and kiss his skin as she counts them. But she also really likes how pretty his hand looks now that it has his promise ring on his ring finger.

Rouge used to think it was his hair but now it has to be his lips. Whenever they’re alone he’s constantly kissing her skin making her squirm, but a close second is his thighs because if she’s been overly bratty that night he will not hesitate to put her over it and make her push herself to come with no help from him.

Buzz loves Jamie’s eyes and Cams smile, like those are her boys and she only ever wants to see them happy.

Blair’s has to be his skin. Some nights all she wants is him on her and when she gets to see the tattoos he’s gotten because of her it makes her get all gushy

Maya loves how Johns curls have become Auggies curls too.

Camille loves Sidney’s hands. Everytime she was sore in a pregnancy he was massaging her body whenever she needed it.

Charlotte is stuck between two, she loves his arms because he gives her the best hugs but she also selfishly loves his chest because there is something about it that gets her going. She hasn’t told Jake but she’d love to try riding it one day.

Amelia is IN LOVE with Masons eyes, like Caleb got them so she will forever adore that

Maddie likes Mats arms because when he gets clingy and doesn’t want her to leave he’s always trying to trap her under his body.

Ellie loves Ethan and Marks hands, like she wants them on her 24/7.

Emma loves Jacobs body, his build is so much bigger than hers so sometimes he is just her big baby

Adelia loves Jeremy’s face, like this man could pull any expression and have her in his arms within seconds. That sex strike was hard!

Thea loves Oliver’s hair, like whenever he hugs her it tickles her skin.

Tate loves Jimmys hands, hello she wants them on her all the time.

Astrid loves Ethan’s mouth, that man is talented and he knows it.

Lillian loves Cutter thighs, like usually he’s pulling her into his lap to sit because he doesn’t want her anywhere else that isn’t close to him.

Junior loves Wills hair! Like all she wants is to tug her fingers through that mess

Fran loves Nicks eyes because she hopes her kids will get them.

Darcy loves Cole’s height, he’s her short king and wouldn’t have it any other way.

Alana LOVES Jurajs height! Like that man towers over her and she loves it

Codie loves how Ryan’s hair falls in his face and cuts him off when he’s talking

Kennedy loves Jacks eyes because she feels like they can stare into her soul and on top of that her baby got them too.

Allie loves Luke’s curls, after a rough day his head is in her lap getting head scratches because he wants to feel better.

Lucie loves Steve’s hand. When he got sick she would always try to talk to him with her hand on his trying to get a response so now as he has his hand constantly either on her or her thigh she knows he’s okay now.

Matilda loves Willys beard, it tickles when he talks to her

Lilah loves Matthews hair, she always ends up with it in her face when they’re sleeping in the couch but she wouldn’t have it another way.

Sabrina loves Adams smile, to her it’s so contagious

Parker loves Cole’s fingers and how skilled he is with them.

Scottie loves Nicks hands, when they are finally good with each other he wants to constantly hold her to make up for the time they lost.

Marisa LOVES Gavin’s hair, she thinks he’s adorable but that might be her favourite part.

Emmy loves Rutgers smile, like he’s always her happy boy

Abigail loves Marks hair, she is a sucker for tugging at it

Liana loves Seamus’ smile. She thinks it can light up a room sometimes.

Ava loves Ryan’s hands, this man won’t hesitate to pull her close to him if she’s being bratty

Bailey loved Wills eyes, after all Max got them

Erin loves Drew’s face, like she just loves smothering him in kisses.

Bianca loves Nicos smile, she thinks it reminds her of how kind the captain is and for that he deserves all the love in the world

Julie loved Timos hands, he’s her big strong man and feels the need to tell him all the time.

Mila loves Jacks thighs, he knows how to make her feel good with them when he’s trying to seem stronger than her.

Isabel loves how Luke towers over her so as he hugs her he has to basically crunch himself to get to her.