#i’m not sure whether it’s best to go through this day doped up to the eyeballs and kinda slow BUT feeling nothing; or feeling everything
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Do you ever think about when you were in your early twenties and you were able to have a shitty night’s sleep and wake up in the morning like “fuck it we ball”, still looking cute, and take a couple of paracetamol and function as normal, and now you’re 27 and if you miss one hour of sleep you look + feel like you got hit by a bus
#hiiiiiiii someone kill me please#i look like HELL and my head is throbbing and my stomach feels questionable and i don’t know how i’m supposed to survive this day#(busy 8 hour shift with few reinforcements)#i took two excedrin. should i chase them down with ibuprofen as well.#i’m not sure whether it’s best to go through this day doped up to the eyeballs and kinda slow BUT feeling nothing; or feeling everything#and kinda wanting to die but Fairly alert#✨and i have to see my work crush✨ ✨and i look like someone beat me with a stick✨#i feel like a kid being sent to school miserably sick and having to get through it with just a packed lunch and my wits#my packed lunch has a pill box in it :)#okay i’m starting to feel the excedrin kicking in. lads i can do this. just nobody make any sudden movements or request any drinks i don’t#know how to make. I CAN SURVIIIIIIVE#personal
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2!Postal Dude Headcanons <3
Summary:
With this version of 2!Postal Dude consists of a mix of my own projections, random stuff I thought of whenever bored, and just how I generally see him. Based on my first run with him, and a mix of the wiki. Anyone that wants to add these to their own lists feel free! :D
General:
Goofy as hell. Still just as insane as the others, but takes it all less seriously.
Either has a list or small journal he carries on him all the time just filled with one-liners, also carries a pen so he can write down any new ones he thinks of.
Fucking dumbass.
Not the smartest guy around, but also not the dumbest. Decent knowledge with some things.
Sometimes pretends to be a full on moron just to annoy the person, or piss them off depending on if it's someone he likes or hates.
Knowledgeable in some subjects, but only if it’s something he has a genuine interest in.
Random hyperfixation on things. Tries to keep himself focused on one or two things at a time and tries to balance everything out, but always fails.
Favorite aesthetics consist of cyberpunk, post-apocalyptic, feralcore, bastardcore, and post-punk.
Feral bastard.
Bites people. Started out as a joke but was slowly integrated into his life.
Humor’s all over the damn place. Mix of whatever he can find on Tumblr and shows like South Park and Beavis and Butthead.
Has a Tumblr and Twitter account. Both just so he can watch everything unfold and doesn’t bother to post anything.
Following list for Twitter mostly consists of gimmick accounts, some of it wholesome, and others being shit he just decided was funny.
Personality built around others' perception of him, whether people he actually knows or just those on the internet.
Personality changes often, but keeps certain aspects for each one.
Bit of a people pleaser.
Mood is always randomized for each day. One day he could be the most calm and patient man in Paradise, and the next he could go on a massacre.
Mood really depends on his morning. Slight inconveniences do have the potential to fuck it all up if there was a major one before, but not on their own.
Very patient with people when younger, but that patience has slowly degraded over the years.
Would never snap at anyone when younger, maybe a few passive aggressive comments.
But now with the degraded patience, much more prone to snapping at people.
Animal lover. Always making sure Champ gets pets and food before he goes off to do his errands and will do his best to take care of strays.
After the beginning cutscene near the start of the game with him kicking Champ for pissing in front of him felt a fuck ton of guilt for the rest of the day. After he got home made sure to do his best to make it up to Champ through whatever means necessary.
Type of video games that he plays is a healthy mix of horror such as Silent Hill and Resident Evil, indie games like Cult of the Lamb and Hollow Knight, and of course shooter games like DOOM and the Call of Duty series.
For Cult of the Lamb he definitely named the cult after himself. Once tried to mod the game himself to add in or replace the decorations to better fit himself but that never ended up happening.
Just about grew up with horror. During highschool he had a fake ID so he could see the Rated R movies without having to bring an adult with him, or would just sneak in (and get caught).
Holds the DOOM series close to his crack-filled heart, with his favorite being the 1993 DOOM as a mix of nostalgia and everything that could be done. Always discovering new secrets on every playthrough.
Probably plays Call of Duty a bit less than the others, and mostly consists of him playing online and just insulting everyone since it’s fun to see their reactions. Barely pays attention to any of the campaigns.
Bisexual and Pangender <3
Age being 27 during the events of Postal 2 (no clue if he has a canon age so for the time being I’m sticking to that).
Music:
Mostly metal and rock.
Korn, Avenged Sevenfold, Rob Zombie, Dope, Limp Bizkit, Skillet, Seether, Slayer, etc.
Favorite songs with them consisting of: “Y’all Want a Single?” by Korn, “Rollin (Air Raid Vehicle” by Limp Bizkit, and “6 Gun Quota” by Seether.
Also has a few other songs in there that seem much out of place, either because he thought it’d be funny or just from him genuinely enjoying them.
Few examples being the “Bisexual Anthem” by Domo Wilson, “Material Girl” by Saucy Santana, “Masquerade” by siouxxie sixxta, ect.
Sings in the shower, most of the time keeps it quiet but will sing loudly as hell just to drive people crazy.
Cannot be trusted with the aux cord.
God help you if you’re on a road trip and he gets a hold of the cord.
Credits:
Credit for both dividers go to @kawaii-lau, after a bit of scrolling finding some dividers saw that they had some cool stuff, so check them out! <3
#postal#postal 2#postal dude#running with scissors#rws#postal 2 dude#headcanon#just random shit I thought of instead of thinking of headcanons for Phillip Graves#I know he does say that he doesn't like video games but I'm willing to ignore that <3#and sorry for this writing being incoherent as hell
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Turning the Page on 2023
Its been a while since my last update. Some of that has been enjoying the holidays, most of it was me a 5 week leadership course that put me through my paces. Nonetheless, I’m here to reflect on 2023, and let you know what awaits me in 2024.
While the year started off a bit rough, I was finally put back on antidepressants, and those have been a great help. Despite my struggles with maintaining sobriety and a healthy weight, I managed to get above a 90 on my Air Force PTtest for the first time in 2 years.
Looking back at the work, I produced, I’m genuinely surprised at the work I was able to put out. I was able to put my photography, videography, and After Effects skills to the test, and made some great work. I returned to Patreon with monthly illustration goals, as well as made some amazing original artwork. I’ve continued to podcast with a good friend of mine where we talk about video games, and other related issues, even hitting our 2 year anniversary.
I also finally got to return home to Portland for the first time in 2 years, and it was a wonderful visit home. Had a wonderful holiday time with friends and family, and I miss them all already.
And most amazing of all, I married the love of my life. My summer wedding trip to Brazil was a time I will never forget, and cherish for the rest of my days. Cannot wait to get you here, Gigi. I love you dearly ❤️
That was 2023, let’s look ahead to 2024. I very much miss streaming and talking with all of you out there. So, I have plans to make my return to Twitch this January — I made it a point to use streaming as a way to keep tabs on me and maintain my sobriety, so if you all like real talk and dope video games, drop on by! Expect promos and updates on that in the near future.
Keeping with the theme of developing healthier habits, I will definitely be pushing myself to losing weight, and overhauling my diet. I’m considering going vegetarian, I do love vegetables after all; just need to make sure I’m getting enough protein. I set a personal best for the leg press with 700 pounds, let’s see if I can set some new records!
Last but not least, I’ve fallen into the nasty habit of just flopping onto my couch after work, and watching YouTube until bed. I cannot keep that up. So I resolve to set myself at my desk, or in front of the microphone. I still have so much work to do and so little time, wish me luck!
I want to thank all of you following me across my various socials, I love being able to entertain you — Whether it’s drawing a sexy girl, or drawing Many sexy girls.
Here’s to a happy and healthy 2024!
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I’ve watched a few of Marky123′s videos on YouTube, since they’re usually pretty decent rundowns of bad storylines and runs in wrestling. So I checked this one out because I was never entirely clear on what happened to Austin Aries, a wrestler I routinely confuse with Bobby Roode. Long story short, this video filled me in, but I lost some respect for Marky123 along the way, because he kept bending over backwards trying to be “fair” to Aries.
Basically, Aries torpedoed his career with the following missteps.
1) During a 2013 Impact show, ring announcer Christy Hemme flubbed his name, so he berated her in the ring, then backed her into one of the corners and stood on the second rope, effectively putting his crotch in her face.
2) At Bound For Glory 2018, Aries lost the Impact World title to Johnny Impact. After the bell, he immediately stood up and left the ring, no-selling Johnny’s finishing move even as Johnny was being handed the title belt.
3) During the height of the pandemic, Aries was so hostile towards face masks that he refused to sign autographs for fans who wore them.
4) Also, he was one of a number of wrestlers accused of sexual misconduct during the #SpeakingOut movement in 2020. I’m not sure if that should be considered a career misstep or just his personal dirtbag behavior being brought to light.
Marky’s main defense of Aries is that the Hemme incident hasn’t aged well, but it wasn’t seen as that big a deal in 2013, and he was a heel at the time, so he had to do something mean in response to the botched intro. The no-sell thing might have been a worked shoot that never panned out, which is flimsy at best. As for the Speaking Out allegations, Marky isn’t convinced because of a lack of evidence. I find this absurd, because there’s recorded footage of the Hemme and BFG incidents, but he downplays both. Like all of the naysayers during the #SpeakingOut movement, Marky123 talks about “evidence” but he would just dispute it if he had it.
The Bound For Glory thing being a worked shoot is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. It’s the sort of theory fans come up with because they saw something really stupid happen and they desperately want to find some sort of explanation to make it make sense. From what I gather, Aries’ contract was going to expire the day after the show, which was why he was dropping the title to Johnny Impact in the first place. If it was all a work, then the idea would be for him to make fans think he was being unprofessional on his way out of the company, only for Impact to re-sign him so he could return for another title program. In this version of events, Aries is actually okay, guys! He’s just pretending to be an unprofessional dick!
The problem is that Impact didn’t renew his deal, so he didn’t come back, which leaves only three possible interpretations:
1) The no-sell was a shoot all along, and Aries really is an unprofessional dick, and Impact was happy to be rid of him.
2) The no-sell was a work, and Aries decided not to re-sign, thereby ruining his reputation.
3) The no-sell was a work, and Impact decided not to follow through on it, making Aries an idiot for letting Impact talk him into ruining his reputation for nothing.
There’s no way Aries comes off as a cool dude in this situation. He’s either an unrepentant asshole or a clueless dope, but Marky123 doesn’t seem to be able to connect those dots.
Overall, Marky’s thesis here is: Sure, Aries was kind of a dick, but does he deserve to get canceled over it? And that misses the whole point: Aries didn’t get “””””canceled”““““. He alienated fans and promoters alike over the course of several years, to the point where no one wants to do business with him. It isn’t a question of whether or not he “deserves” it. His current status in professional wrestling isn’t a punishment meted out by the court of public opinion; it’s just the result of his behavior.
Marky makes it out like maybe “we” should “forgive” Aries, or at least consider it, but who’s “we”? I never gave a shit about the guy in the first place. Then he started getting heat for his anti-mask horseshit, and that’s how I found out what a shithead he was. I must have missed the sexual misconduct allegations, but I’m pretty sure he’d already burned most of his bridges by then anyway. The rest of it all deals with him being unprofessional, and that’s a business question, not a forgiveness issue. If promoters and wrestlers don’t want to work with the guy, that’s just them protecting themselves. Every time I’ve watched the BFG footage, it amazes me that he pulled a stunt like that. It’s the sort of thing a wrestler would only do if they plan to quit the business for good and get a cushy job in some other line of work.
And even if indy promoters are willing to work with Aries, it’s still up to the fans to decide if he’s worth showing up for. If he’s still refusing to meet with fans over his anti-mask policy, then he’s just leaving money on the table. If he’s that contemptuous of the fans, then eventually the fans won’t bother with him at all. I’m pretty sure that already happened, but if he’s not careful, it soon will. It’s not about forgiveness, it’s about supply and demand. Aries has been killing demand for his brand for a while now, and lo and behold, he’s not a draw.
Like, am I supposed to pay to see him because I feel sorry for him? That’s like saying we should all buy VCRs because the videotape format didn’t deserve to become obsolete. No, Aries didn’t get buried, he dug his own grave. Let the fucker lie in it.
#austin aries#it speaks volumes that the bfg no sell incident happened over 4 years ago#and this seems to be the last notable thing he did in the wrestling business#apparently he was in control your narrative#a promotion which i'm still not sure actually exists#like what happened to that thing?#they were going to do a show and then i never saw any reports on it
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Cycle 0 - Interviews
[read on ao3]
[next]
Taako Taaco. 114. Elf. Wizard; Specialization in transmutation and inventive magical applications.
Previous experience: Top of class at Tredore, Academy of Magics and Technology; recently graduated.
Criminal Record: Multiple counts of petty theft.
Davenport likes to think of himself as calm and composed. It’s hard to throw him off. He has to be in order to have gotten this far in his mission as fast as he has.
But when he turns around from shutting the door to see his interviewee with his feet kicked up on the table, twirling a wand through his fingers, he’s a little shocked. He’s been doing these interviews for two days now, and even the more relaxed and confident people have held a bit more sense for decorum.
It’s a bit rude.
It’s also a little interesting.
He sits at his desk, pulling the elf’s papers away from his boots (shiny, and though they look expensive he can see they’re worn down and well taken care of) and glances down. “Tell me, Taako Taaco, what makes you want to explore the planerverse?”
“Bored.”
If the feet on the desk threw him off for a second, that floors him entirely. “Bored?”
“I’ve got nothing else to do on this plane, why not, you know?”
“No burning desire to go further than any being has gone before?” That’s one of the normal responses, the well-planned out speeches he keeps getting in response to his opening question.
The elf crosses his feet, leaning back somehow further into the provided chair. Davenport worries for a second that he may fall as he continues on, “that’s cool too, I guess. But I figure, why wouldn’t you want the great Taaco name aboard your ship.”
Davenport picks up a pen from his table and makes a small note on the paperwork, “no offense, Mr. Taaco, but you’re rather cavalier about this interview that determines whether or not you’re accepted into a program that may redefine our understanding of the world.”
The elf shrugs and takes his feet off of Davenport’s desk, flashing him a smirk, “you’ve seen my sister’s paperwork, yeah? No way you’re not going to accept her, and we’re a package deal. Says it right there in bold at the top of my application, my man.” It does, in fact, say that at the top. Cursive words noting how he refuses to accept any position on the ship if his sister isn't there too. When reviewing who he was interviewing today, he saw similar words on Lup Taaco’s paperwork.
“You’re very confident in your sister’s abilities.” Davenport begins, pausing for a second as he notes the way the elf begins to tense up before continuing, “however, I wouldn’t sell yourself so short. You also graduated top of your class, and excelled in the art of transmutation multiple times. One of your letters of recommendation even noted how you made many spells easier to cast, somatically speaking.”
“What can I say, I’ll find any short cut I can.”
Davenport makes another note on his paper. “Now, I do need to ask about your record of petty theft.”
“Oh, natch.”
Lup Taaco. 114. Elf. Wizard; Specialization in evocation and applied magic regarding planar research.
Previous experience: Top of class at Tredore, Academy of Magics and Technology; recently graduated.
Criminal Record: Multiple counts of petty theft.
“Lup Taaco, it is nice to meet you.”
“The pleasure is all mine, Captain.” The woman in front of him smiles. The resemblance to her brother couldn’t be more clear, and though her demeanor is quite similar, she at least doesn’t have her feet on his desk.
Not that his desk is anything fancy, but the point stands. “I’m not technically the captain yet, you know.”
“Potato, potato.”
Davenport is fairly certain that’s not how that phrase is used. “You did research into the planes at Tredore, correct?”
“Quite a bit, yeah. I’m sure my brother told you?”
The slight tilt of her head and lit of her voice tells Davenport this is some sort of test, which is confusing and a bit disconcerting, considering he is the one conducting the interview. He checks a quick box on his papers. “He talked you up a bit, yes. But this is your own interview, and I wanted to discuss your own knowledge with you, personally.”
She smiles, a touch more warmth to it than her previous attitude. “Oh, of course. Did quite a bit of studying at Tredore. First real school we attended. Kinda boring at times, you know?”
“If you’re accepted into this program, it’s going to be four intense months of studying and teaching you the more complex workings of the ship. Plus the two months of actually being on the ship.”
“That’s the fun stuff. Not a third semester in a row of another language I already figured out most of years ago.”
“How many languages do you speak, Ms. Taaco?”
“Including common, five languages.”
“Impressive.” Davenport himself only speaks three. “Now, I would like to ask you about your criminal record, if you don’t mind?”
Her smile grew sharp as she laughs.
Honestly, he isn’t surprised. Her explanation is the same as her brothers. Grew up on the road, needed food and other items on occasion. Didn’t always run fast enough. Davenport can’t fault them, and certainly won’t hold it against them.
He glances down at her paperwork, about to ask another question about her education, when she speaks up. “I’ve got a question for you, Captain.”
“Oh?”
“The ship- we’re really going with the name ‘The Starblaster’?”
Davenport sighs. He knew this question was coming, but he was expecting it to come during a press conference from a reporter, not a potential shipmate. “Yes. To be fair, it was a communal name we put to a vote from everyone who worked on building the engine.”
Ms. Taaco smiles. “Dope.”
Barry J. Bluejeans. 37 years old. Human. Wizard; specialization in applied magic regarding bonds and planar research.
Previous experience: Current assistant professor at Duffman University of the Arcane, part-time employee at the Institute of Planer Research and Exploration.
Criminal Record: Previous altercations regarding necromancy; no crimes against the nature of life and death ever committed.
Mr. Bluejeans is an interesting man. By the look of him, you’d expect to see him fumbling his way through a PTA meeting for his two kids. Instead, Davenport is staring down the word ‘necromancy’ on his paperwork on an application regarding literal planar travel on a ship called 'the Starblaster.'
So far, the interview has been going well. He’d listened to the man explain his research into the arcane, and he’d understood planar travel as well as any of the current scientists and engineers at the Institute. He was called in often for conferences and meetings about the bond engine. He’d seen the man walking around on occasion. They’d never been in a meeting together before, but he’d seemed nice.
But he also had a history of necromancy.
Now, Davenport doesn’t like to judge people. However, being in an enclosed space with someone who needed to specify he had never technically committed “crimes against the nature of humanity” isn’t the most comforting.
But, he was a smart man. Easy to get along with, too. So far. Necromancy notwithstanding.
Best to get it over with, “so, Mr. Bluejeans. I do need to ask about your criminal record-”
“Oh! Yeah, I never killed anyone. Or un- killed anyone. Uh, resurrected, I mean. Just did lots of studying into the application of necromancy and necromantic spells. Got in trouble because I toed the line of ‘research’ and ‘bringing my cat back to life,’ but got a stern talking to. Didn’t try it again, and don’t plan on needing to deal with those types of authorities again.”
Okay, normal enough answer, far as the situation applies-
“My current research into it has stayed purely theoretical, and it won’t interfere with the mission at all.”
So the man is still into necromancy.
Davenport glances down at the man’s file, thick with it’s attached papers Bluejeans has done on planar research. He’s not even stuck up about his level of education, and that’s extremely rare for the field.
Holding back a sigh, Davenport asks, “Can you explain the paper you wrote on the outer planes interactions with the inner planes for me?”
It was a really good paper.
But the man is still into necromancy.
Lucretia. 20. Human. Chronicler; Specialization in journalism.
Previous experience: Due to multiple NDA, she is unable to give us the exact number and titles of books she has written, but she sent letters of recommendation from Duke Rensburg, Lady Norabelle, and Warren of the Seatree Clan.
Criminal Record: Acquisition and attempted use of a false ID.
“So, Ms. Lucretia, I understand you cannot provide us with most examples of your works, but from what you have provided, you seem to be very, very good.”
“I like to think so, yes.” The young woman in front of him seems polite. She’s quiet; he saw her waiting outside with a few others before her interview, and while most of them were engaged in some awkward small talk, she sat away from them. Likely partially due to her age- she is much younger than the people outside- but she also simply seems quiet.
Which wouldn’t be the worst quality in someone you would be sharing a small, enclosed space with for an extended period of time. But, if she couldn’t bond with the others sufficiently, the bond engine won’t work.
(Hell, the bond engine was already finicky, they figured out the tech only a month ago, and they only have four months to bond an entire crew to pilot it and-)
“Can you explain to me why you acquired a fake ID and tried to use it at a, uh,” Davenport glances down at the records in front of him, holding back a chuckle, “at the forbidden section of the Library of Runar?”
Lucretia looks uncomfortable for a second, and he’s sure if the lighting in the room were better he would be able to see her flush with embarrassment. She gives him a hesitant smile, “I can’t get into the explicit details, but I was working on a book for an older client whose memory was becoming patchy, and I wanted to confirm some details before I put their name to it. They wouldn’t allow me into the section without the proper documents, but my client refused to agree that I should double check his work, even though I was almost certain he was wrong, so I simply… found a way to get past their guard. I wasn’t going to steal anything and I was going to use the proper equipment to read through the documents.”
Davenport smiles, “pursuit of knowledge and truth is important to you, then?”
“I don’t think spreading lies, especially in that context, is very honorable, no.” Her hands are folded in her lap now, and she seems a bit more relaxed.
Considering the others he is planning on accepting, he may be wrong about her getting along with them. Anyone willing to break the law just to prove an old man wrong would at least get along with him. Davenport refuses to have any pushovers aboard his ship.
Magnus Burnsides. 19. Fighter; Specialization in protection fighting and mechanical engineering.
Previous experience: Current bouncer at Apex Club. Currently enrolled in Gallier’s Fighter Academy and College.
Criminal Record: One count of assault and battery, appealed for defense of another person present. One count of indecent exposure and public intoxication.
Davenport will be the first to admit it can be tricky to follow human aging patterns, but he knows he’s not mistaken in thinking the man in front of him is barely out of “child” territory. Nineteen is a very, very small amount of time to be alive. Also, a very, very small amount of time to learn important things, like how to run what is basically a ship right out of a science fiction novel- complete with breakthrough technology.
Despite this, it’s hard to not find the young man in front of him to be endearing, and mostly knowledgeable in the things they need him to be.
“Magnus. You’re very young, one of the youngest applicants we have. What makes you think you’re qualified as the head of security of the ship?”
The young man in front of him- Gods, he really is young- grins and lifts his arms to flex, a show of pride and ego almost unbefitting of an interview setting, “Have you seen my muscles? I’m very strong, and a very good fighter.”
Many of today’s interviews have been quite different than he was expecting.
“I was referring more to job experience.”
“Oh!” Magnus shifts in his seat, fingers drumming against the table as he thinks. “I worked as a bouncer for a club while I was in college and did, if I must toot my own horn, a very good job. You should have a letter of recommendation from the owner-” He leans forwards, reaching a hand out as if to look through his own files to show him the letter.
“Yes, I did read through it. She was very thorough in stating how eager you were to help.” Davenport glances down at the papers in front of him, holding back a sigh. It truly was a glowing review of this young man. While his grades from the aforementioned college weren’t the highest, especially in classes one might consider important for an institute of planar research, the two letter of recommendations he submitted from teachers of his explained how Burnsides was very persistent when he wanted to learn something he didn’t know. He also had taken quite a few classes regarding vehicles- not enough to claim the young man was an expert but enough to provide a solid basis to show him how things worked and could be repaired on the ship.
The kid’s attitude was something of a breath of fresh air in this place. However, there was one glaring concern.
“I was also a bit concerned about the criminal record we have on file for you. Assault and battery as well as the indecent exposure and public-”
“In my defense for the second one, I was drunk with some friends and maybe thought it’d be funny to streak in the lake. Who hasn’t been to a party that gets a little out of hand.” He holds his hands out as if to say “am I right?”
Off the record, Davenport is inclined to agree that he was right. On the record, he is choosing to ignore it. “And the assault and battery? The file says it was in defense of a young person.”
Burnsides grins, “that’s how I got hired as the bouncer!”
He waits a moment, expecting Magnus to continue. When it seems the young man is assuming that is enough explanation, he prompts, “by beating up a man outside the club?”
“Yeah! He was harassing someone outside, and I was walking home and passed by. I told him to step off, and he didn’t. So I decked him, and he was out right away.”
It lined up with the records he had, and honestly, seeing someone so ready to step up to the defense of a stranger was a good quality. Better than some of the older applicants who were much more… formal in their training. He wonders briefly how Burnsides would react to an altercation against someone with magic.
Glancing down at his records, he guesses he would run headfirst without thinking.
Stifling a small grin, Davenport continues, “Now, tell me. Assume we’re up in space, and something goes wrong with the bond engine. What would your course of action be, Mr. Burnsides?”
Merle Hitower Highchurch. 214. Cleric; Specialization in botany, religion, and medical treatment.
Previous experience: Current botanist at the Institute of Planar Research and Exploration. Professor of botany at Narvick’s University for four years.
Criminal Record: Multiple counts of loitering.
The door is pushed all the way open before Davenport can even call out the next person.
A short dwarf slides into the room with a wide grin, “hey Dav!” A mug of tea is pressed into his hands.
“Hello, Merle. You do know this needs to be at least a little formal, yes?”
“Formal schmormal. Ask me your silly questions already, bud.” Merle Highchurch, resident botanist at the Institute of Planar Research and Exploration, plops right down in the seat he’d taken to commandeering once a week, for the past three weeks.
Davenport had seen him around before, but a botanist in an institute designed for exploring other planes that had little capabilities to actually go to those places yet was rarely busy, and even more rarely called upon. He still barely knew the guy, but after the day they’d gotten stuck in the elevator for ten minutes when it broke down, the dwarf had come to his office for tea each Wednesday.
It was a bit strange, but the tea was good.
“Tell me about your work experience.”
Merle laughs heartily, “they barely have me do anything around here, ‘cept tend to the couple of plants they’ve grabbed from the ground plane.”
“It’s the Elemental Plane of Earth, and don’t sell yourself short, Merle. This is basically a job interview, you know.”
Merle slurps loudly at his own mug, “aren’t you planning on nepotism hiring me, because we’re buds?”
“That isn’t even what that word means, Merle.”
“Isn’t it?”
Davenport stares into the tea, “is this made from the Earth plant?”
“Maybe?”
Davenport. 276. Captain and navigator; Specialization in mechanical engineering and arcane components combined with contemporary technology.
Previous Experience: Crewmate on the Lady Blue for twenty years. Graduated from Grensville University. Current staff at the Institute of Planar Research and Exploration.
Criminal Record: Unlawful resistance of orders from captain, raising of commotion on board ship while employed.
Davenport handed the six files over to Selune, “These are them.”
The halfling woman flips through them, eyebrows raising higher with each one she sees. “You’re sure you grabbed the right ones? A few of these I understand, but you do know we had the Issaiah Broler apply.”
He folds his hand in front of him, nodding. “I also know that during the interview he made me want to pour my tea on his lap. There’s no chance of getting the bond engine going with him. These are the six I picked. They’re all qualified- and the ones that are less educated in the specifics in the field I’m sure will pick up on the important information quickly. The Taaco twins already will give the bond engine a huge boost. Ms. Lucretia will ensure we have everything chronicled, something I’m sure you can appreciate, Selune. Mr. Bluejeans previous work shows he will thrive given the opportunities awaiting us. Mr. Highchurch is an educated man, and I trust him to keep the crew healthy and provide ample information on anything botany related we encounter, and I’m certain Mr. Burnsides will provide ample help in any task we show him how to do.” He sighs, glancing out the window of her office. There were a few people lingering outside in the courtyard of the Institute. “We have been given a tremendous opportunity to explore beyond what we can imagine, Selune. The last thing I want is to be bogged down by people stuck in their ways, who have been working in this field long enough to have their preconceived notions about what to expect and who will react badly when they’re proven wrong. I trust my own judgement in picking a crew, and I hope you trust my abilities to get these people ready to set sail in four months.”
What he doesn’t say is that he doesn’t want a bunch of stuffy jackasses on his ship. He’s not even sure picking all the over-qualified people would pass through the higher-ups' inspection of the crew. The people he picked were qualified enough to get a quick sign-off, but not too much. Anyone “overqualified” would probably get rejected. The ship had been built in basically six months. It’d get them off the ground, sure. It wasn’t going to explode on them once they got up there, but it wasn’t safe. There was a reason Davenport was the captain at all.
The six candidates in those files didn’t have a name for themselves as “important” to any stuffy scientific group or noble family. These people he picked were just that- people. A group of people who he believed deserved this opportunity. If anyone was getting the chance to make a name for themselves- to have the chance to redefine everything they know about the planar systems, he wanted to make sure they deserved the chance. A dangerous chance, sure. But what was science if not a little risky.
She sighs, opening the file on top. Her hand reaches for her pen, “Davenport, I got the final say on the name of the ship, I suppose the least I can do is give you final say on the crew.” She begins to write ‘approved’ at the top of the file, flipping through each one before giving him a pointed look. “But when I get angry calls about how you approved a bunch of nobodies and two people not even old enough to drink, I’m transferring them straight to your crystal.”
“And I will not be answering a single one.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to, Captain.”
#davenport#taako#lup#magnus burnsides#lucretia#barry bluejeans#merle highchurch#taz balance#the stolen century#my works
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Tropetember Day 12 - Getting together / Love confession / First kiss / Break-up/Make-up / Fix-it
Limp away with me
Pairing: Armitage Hux x GN!Reader
Fandom: Star Wars
Rating: Teen and up
TW: Injuries, implications of rough childhood
AN: Day 12 of @tropetember. So, this is quite rough and holds a lot of potential for fleshing out into a proper story, whether that's just a longer one or a multi-chapter. Is that something anyone would be interested in? Fix-it fic cos they did General Hugs dirty
Allegiant General Pryde has shot General Hux. Lucky you're the Surgeon General really.
Find this story on Ao3 here.
Word Count: 1.6k
“Allegiant General Pryde just shot General Hux.”
Your breath catches and you allow yourself a moment to close your eyes. Next moment, you’ve grabbed your bag and are focused back on task.
“Collect the body,” you direct them, “and bring it to the medbay autopsy lab. Carefully.”
You and Armitage had prepared for this eventuality. One of the advantages of having a partner in the medical core was that the chances of surviving treason were much higher.
Whilst neither of you had entered First Order service willingly (no matter what Hux said, you had both been forced into it), Armitage had quickly excelled and embraced his duties in an effort to outshine his father. To try and prove himself as worthy. You, on the other hand, had enacted the only act of rebellion against your family that you would be able to survive. You had chosen to enrol in the medical core rather than aiming for command. If you had to be a part of this monstrous cause, you would try to save as many as you could.
You’d worked your way quickly up to the rank of Surgeon General and had been stationed on the Supremacy for a number of years. Thankfully, you’d survived the reign of Snoke and, so far, had survived Ren’s reign of terror. It had been a blessing that Hux had been reassigned to the vessel from the Finaliser. You enjoyed each other’s company and it was helpful to be able to train on your self-defence with someone who wasn’t trying to beat the stuffing out of you to make a point. He was a good outlet for a lot of energy in other ways too.
You glance up from checking you have all your equipment when you realise the orderlies haven’t moved. You turn your most piercing stare on them.
“Did I stutter?”
They look at each other until one of them pulls up their big boy panties and says “he was shot for being a spy.”
You laugh. Mostly at the fact that one looks like he wants to cry and the other like he’s about to collapse. They don’t need to know that though.
“Yes, by Allegient General Pryde who is well known for being a thorough and competent leader. Oh wait. No, he’s not. He’s had a grudge against Hux since he reappeared from whatever hell hole he had been hiding in. I said go fetch me the body! Now!”
They scarper out and you take another deep breath to centre yourself before busying yourself again with grabbing supplies and the emergency make-a-break-for-it kit you stored in your office. You then straighten your uniform, brace yourself and head out into the chaos of the medical bay.
---------------
Armitage is deathly pale when he finally is brought down to you but you swiftly move into action, infusing blood and bacta and checking the depth of the wound. You’d both known that, were he to be discovered, the weapon he was likely to be shot with would pierce the thin body armour he wore beneath his uniform. Unfortunately, it was the maximum thickness he could get away with before it became noticeable but you had both agreed that some bleeding would sell the ruse. You just didn’t like it.
Checking out the wound, you sigh out a quick breath of relief when you realise it is not too deep and hasn’t damaged any of the major blood vessels or organs. Though gruesome to witness, it was mostly superficial.
You lose yourself in your efforts, remaining undisturbed in the autopsy room, until you’re happy that he’s stable for travel. It’s at that point that you revive him, despite the fact he’s going to be in a world of pain.
He slowly blinks into reality with a scowl and a hiss of pain. You try to soothe him as best you can but there isn’t much you can do right now. You need him mobile to get to the shuttle and someone would notice you carrying him.
Gently running your hand through his hair you tell him “come on sweetheart. I know it hurts but we’ve got to move.”
Despite the pain, he seems alert and nods, letting out a grunt of agreement as he allows you to help him sit up and then stand. You gather the spare stormtrooper armour you’d pilfered a few months ago and quickly get him dressed up in it before leading the way swiftly to the small landing bay where Armitage’s private shuttle was stored.
You whisper a thanks to whatever Gods there are that the chaos on board the vessel means that there is noone around and you manage to get the pair of you on board with little drama. In fact, the whole escape into hyperspace is amazingly smooth and once you’re away with your course set, you sag a little in relief.
Or at least, you do until you see Armitage’s slumped frame and quickly grab him and get him moved to the small bedroom to continue his care and knock him back out while he heals.
You’re just about to inject the sedative when he grabs your hand, making you look at him.
“You know you are my world, don’t you?” he asks quietly.
You smile softly and lean forward to press a gentle kiss on his lips. You smile again as you feel him smile against you.
“I do, I wouldn’t have committed treason for anything less.”
He rolls his eyes before pressing another gentle peck to your lips and releasing you to get back your work. You take the opportunity to knock him out for now. It’s how he’ll be most comfortable.
And if you’re grinning so hard your face hurts, noone in deep space can see it. They can’t see you internally debating whether it’s ethical to dope someone up to get soppy confessions from them in the future either.
---------
It wasn’t often that General Dameron of the Resistance found himself in the Outer Rim.
Even 3 years after the end of the war, he was still mostly stuck to the core planets and mid-rim in efforts to support the Senate and help guard the peace which had settled upon the galaxy.
He’d been on a training mission with a few new recruits for Green Squadron when they’d been ambushed and they’d all received some pretty injuries despite eventually winning the battle. Injuries that required attention sooner than they would be able to if they headed back to base.
After a quick argument with Finn via the comms, the squad set course for a local med facility that was gaining a reputation for it’s high quality care.
Poe made sure all his squad were checked out before himself and he was happy that they were all being looked after so well. It was strange. The lead Doctor seemed familiar.
It wasn’t until you met his eyes that he realised.
You calmly continued his consultation, gently palpitating the wounds and collecting dressings, something you appeared to be doing more quickly than he was able to collect his thoughts.
“You!”
You snort. You can’t help it.
“Yes, me General Dameron.” You gently dab some bacta on some of the smaller cuts. “Did that break heal up correctly?”
He nods a bit dumbly. You’d been responsible for his care after Ren and a couple of the Stormtroopers had tortured him. You’d been a welcome relief, if he were honest. In fact, apart from the fact you’d worked for the First Order, he wasn’t aware of any accusations against you.
“I’m glad.” You finish wrapping his wrist and nod. “All done. Your pilots should be ready to go in around 2hrs, just to allow any drowsiness to wear off. I have some spare rooms if you need to stay on planet tonight?”
He thanks you profusely but explains that they are expected back tonight as you head back into the main waiting area. You shake his hand before leaving him and approaching a tall red-head across the room who instantly wraps his arm around your waist and drops a quick kiss on your head. You whisper to him for a few seconds and blue-green eyes suddenly lock with Poe’s before his face breaks out in a smile.
“General Dameron” Armitage says, approaching slowly and holding out a hand to a shell-shocked looking Dameron. “I’m glad you won. You and your squadrons are welcome to drop in here for treatment if you ever require it and are close by. Free of charge”
Poe, for his part, has a LOT of thoughts at this moment. Part of him wants to jump up and arrest him immediately whilst another screams that he was a spy and was seriously harmed because of it. It’s neither of these things that eventually seals his reaction though. It’s the loving glance Armitage throws your way as you offer them both coffee, the expression rendering him almost unrecognisable when juxtaposed against the version he used to know.
“Thank you.” He finally chokes out. “I’m assuming you’re not known by your old names?” Given the whole living in peace and not being turned into the authorities and all that?”
Hux just laughs.
“You would be correct. We’re both going by Y/N’s mother’s maiden name.”
“Oh?”
“Yes” Armitage says, looking far too amused. “We’re Armitage and Y/N Organa.”
Poe’s jaw drops to the flood. How on EARTH was he going to explain any of this?
Turns out, after it became the top recommended med centre by all members of the Resistance, he didn’t have to. He just had to keep pretending he didn’t know Hux had survived and not let Finn anywhere near. Poe was good at keeping his mouth shut.
Strange galaxy you live in really. And you couldn’t be happier
#tropetember#fix it fic#star wars#star wars sequel trilogy#armitage hux x reader#armitage hux x you#general hux x reader#tw: injury#may get reworked#rough
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Fixer Upper PART THREE (Frankie Morales x f!Reader)
Summary: Now you’re faced with an option after Frankie left a tool at your house. How do you make your feelings for Frankie known?
W/C: 2k
Warnings: language, Benny is a menace, fluff :)
A/N: THE THRILLING CONCLUSION! Thank you all for tagging along!
You hardly slept last night. Your mind was filled with the handsome repairman, his smile and his laughter and the fact that he left a vital piece of his equipment in your house. It had to be a sign, right?
Whether or not it was a purposeful move is the question that tormented you until the early hours of the morning. He was a great man, most definitely, but did he mean his jokes and assistance in a way beyond the professionalism he had to have? You couldn’t figure out, and it left you tossing and turning like you had when the air conditioner was broken.
In the morning, you still aren’t quite sure what to make of it. You’d thought that sleeping on it might bring some sense of clarity, but it really hasn’t. Enjoying the cold air of your newly fixed air conditioner, you stare at the wall as you sip your morning coffee. Is there even a solid answer? You’re not entirely sure.
Well, whether or not you’re going to make a move, you suppose he’s going to need that wrench. Lifting your phone, you dial the shop’s number, which is now saved into your speed dial list.
“Standard Oil and Heating,” a man’s voice sounds from the phone, “this is Benny.”
“Hi,” you say with a somewhat cheerful voice. “Uh, is Catfish in today?” You ask the man.
“Gimme one second,” the man murmurs. You can hear paper flipping, as he looks through something on the desk. “Uh, can I ask why you’re calling?” He clarifies.
“Oh, of course. He fixed my oven yesterday and he left one of his tools behind.”
The man- Benny- chuckles. “Oh, you’re the one with the fucked-up house! We’ve heard about you.”
That makes you laugh, but more importantly, makes your stomach flutter nervously. Frankie’s mentioned you to his coworkers. Whether it was in passing or in depth, you don’t know, but he’s mentioned you. Talked about you. “Yeah, that would be me,” you shrug and sip your coffee.
There’s another shuffling of paper and the man makes a small noise of discontent. “Well, it looks like he won’t be in today for whatever reason, but he’ll be here tomorrow. If you wanna bring it in, I can give it to him.”
You pause, then shake your head. Even though he can’t see it, you’re sure he can figure it out. “That’s alright. I’ll just bring it in tomorrow then.”
Benny chuckles a little. “I think he’ll like that. Do you want me to let him know?”
“No, that’s okay. I’ll just pop in when I have the time,” you say casually, as if you’re not about to rearrange your entire day around to do so. The note from Benny- I think he’ll like that- makes your smile widen.
“No problem. We’ll see ya then,” he tells you and nods before hanging up.
Well, now you have about twenty four hours before you have to return that wrench. The decision before you still hangs heavy in the air. There’s a good chance he likes you, especially if the man who answered the shop phone was right. His words were subtle but hinting, and the idea was that Frankie has talked about you.
But what if he hasn’t? What if he just mentioned that you have a chronically disastrous house and that was the end of the story? God, there are so many questions, and it makes you annoyed to no end. You groan aloud, grateful to live alone, and drop your head to the cool wood of your kitchen table.
Love is too complicated. Can you even categorize it as love right now? Maybe it’s more of an affection situation. There are too many labels for things, too many variables and ifs and whens. Too many reasons things can go right or can go very very wrong.
Worst of all, if Frankie doesn’t feel the same, you lose a damn good repairman. Well, he’s a good guy. You’re sure he’d still help, but that banter and laughter would certainly be gone. The relationship you have now would be thrown out the window, which you may one day need him to fix.
You have a job, and you do your work as the day progresses, but Frankie’s face takes up permanent residence in the back of your mind, unable to let you focus well. Even as you snag a spare monster cookie during your lunch break, you think of him and how warmly he helped you after you burned yourself.
Your decision wavers back and forth. You have periods of definitiveness, moments where you’re certain you’re going to make a move and moments where you decide you’re going to do nothing at all. It’s agonizing, your inability to make a decision.
Finally, you reach the best conclusion you think you can have. When you drop off the wrench tomorrow, you’ll just read the room. You’ll carefully observe his body language, the way he speaks, and try to take the clues you can find in person. Yeah, that should work. It’s probably the best option too.
Settling in bed, you take a while to fall asleep, pondering possibilities. Eventually, you fall asleep and even your dreams are filled with confusion and twists, a theme of uncertainty filling your unconscious mind.
Then the morning comes. You get dressed into something you’d normally wear to go out running errands. You don’t want anything too cute, anything too casual or sloppy. Even then, you change t-shirts three times until you remind yourself it’s nothing of consequence.
You drink your to-go coffee as you drive to the shop, which you’ve surprisingly never been to in person. For as much as you use their services, you’ve never seen the building. Walking inside, you peek around and find no one. Taking a deep breath and making yourself relax, you ring the buzzer on the desk that sounds in the back.
A man comes to the front, wearing working clothes and a tool belt. His outfit is similar to Frankie’s, but he’s omitted the ball cap. “Hi,” he comments, slightly confused.
“Hey, I’m here for Catfish?” You ask, looking through the window behind the desk that shows the back of the shop. You hold up the wrench, hoping that gives a little indication.
“Oh! You’re her!” The man nods, blue eyes brightening and blonde scruff moving with his smile. “I’m Benny, the one you talked to yesterday.”
He offers his hand and you shake it, smiling and introducing yourself. “Nice to meet you.”
“You too! Fish loves when he gets sent to your place,” he chuckles. “Are you here… just to drop off the wrench?” He asks, implying the very thing that you spent the whole night pondering.
“Hopefully not,” you shrug nervously, an awkward smile on your face.
Benny nods and shoots you a knowing smile. “Fish really likes you. I’ll just spoil that one for you,” he laughs. “The guy’s like a brother. I can read him damn well. Okay, enough of that. I’ll send him out here, or do you wanna come on back?”
“I’ll come back with you?” You say, half-questioning and half-stating. The man waves you along and you follow him into the back.
“Fish,” Benny calls, and Frankie’s head pops up from a tool bench. He’s facing away from the two of you.
“What do you want?” He grumbles, not turning. He’s too focused on whatever he’s tinkering with, using pliers and wire and tape.
“God, you’re an asshole, Frank. Sure you don’t wanna leave?” He asks you jokingly.
At the question being directed elsewhere, Frankie turns and his eyes widen as he spots you. “Hey, what are you doing here?” He asks. Benny respectfully backs out of the room without saying anything, allowing the two of you to have your conversation.
“You left your wrench,” you chuckle and awkwardly hold it up.
“Oh, that’s where I left it,” Frankie says, though you learn that he’s a terrible liar through the tone of his voice. “Thanks for bringing that back.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you assure him and smile.
There’s a beat of silence before the both of you try to speak. Neither of you manage to get anything out before you realize the other is speaking. Then you stumble over your words, each of you assuring the other that they go. Then there’s more of that, letting the other speak, and silence, then he breaks it.
“I, uh, left that on purpose,” he admits, face reddening beneath the brim of his blue ball cap.
“Well, I wanted to bring it back specifically to say that I really like you,” you admit and fold your arms awkwardly.
His face practically lights up, looking up at you with a mixture of love and shock and excitement. “Really?”
“Really,” you nod and place the wrench down on the work table in front of him. “What time do you work until tonight? Would you like to come back to my cursed house and I’ll make dinner?” You offer, leaning against his table.
Frankie grins. “I’d love that, yeah. I’ll bring my tool belt just in case,” he chuckles, which makes you genuinely laugh and in turn widens his smile. “You don’t have to make anything though.”
“I will though,” you shrug, your body loosening now that the tension is gone. He feels the same. “Now that my oven is working, we’re all good.”
He chuckles and looks down at the wiring piece he was working on before looking back at you like he’d look at a gorgeous work of art. “I work until 5. Sometime after that?” He offers.
“Seven it is. Do you have any food restrictions?”
He shakes his head. “I eat anything and everything in massive amounts,” he chuckles. “I’m sure anything you make would be great.”
“Well, I’ll text you what I’m making if I can have your phone number,” you offer, a little confidence boosting from the fact that he clearly reciprocates your feelings.
“Yeah,” he grins and takes your phone when you hand it to him, entering his contact. Fix-it Frankie: cell, 589-283-1975.
“Fix-it Frankie?” You laugh and beam at him. “God, you’re a dope.”
He shrugs and blushes but he’s still clearly happy, more than willing to take your teasing. “Alright, I gotta keep working on this, but I’ll walk you out,” he offers and stands.
The two of you walk to the front and Frankie opens the door for you. You walk outside and he follows. “Well, see you tonight,” you grin at him.
“See you then,” he nods.
The two of you go for the hug, but awkwardly dodge to each side, trying to figure out the proper angle. When the gap between your bodies finally closes, you realize neither of you considered your faces. They’re awkwardly smushed together, lips on lips. You’re kissing.
“Oh no,” you laugh and back up, cupping Frankie’s face and softly scratching at the stubble.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” Frankie mutters, embarrassed but laughing as he looks into your eyes.
Your face is still close to his, your bodies in a hugging position. “Well, we better do that right,” you giggle.
Frankie nods, his cheeks hurting from how much you’ve made him smile. It falls as his face closes the distance to yours, kissing you gently and sighing into your lips.
The moment is short, soft and sweet. You’re in public and fully conscious of it, and you don’t want to seem weird. When you break away, you kiss his cheek, admiring the scratch of his beard against your lips. “See you tonight, Fix-it Frankie,” you tease and walk off to your car.
“See you!” He calls and raises one large hand in a wave. He’s still flustered as you drive off and wiggle your fingers at him in a similar wave. His eyes follow your car until it’s out of sight.
Frankie walks back inside and rolls his eyes at the sight of his blonde best friend staring at him. “Don’t you even-“
“Hell yeah!” Benny whoops and holds up the wrench as if it were a victory prize.
“Shut the fuck up,” he frowns and snatches it from his hand, tucking it back in his tool belt.
As annoyed as he is by Benny, he can’t be mad. He has a date tonight with a woman he already knows can cook and hold her own in such a shitty house- well, aside from repairs. Thank God for faulty air conditioning.
-
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#frankie catfish morales x reader#frankie catfish morales#frankie morales x reader#francisco catfish morales x reader#francisco catfish morales#francisco morales x reader#francisco morales#catfish morales x reader#catfish morales#pedro pascal#frankie morales#jose pedro balmaceda pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal x reader
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Did tiger and bill ever go through like a phase where tiger kind of had to get used to bill thinking of her? Like she wasn't really used to being someone's first choice, like someone thinking about what she might like or want. To have someone frankly just think of you. I'm sorry to be a bother. Just feeling kind of bad lately, and could use some sweet bill. Sorry again.
First of all boo, please don't ever be sorry for sliding into my DMs. I love hearing from you guys, especially if you're not doing that well. I'm all ears, and this blog is a safe space for everyone--so pull up a chair and stay awhile. I, and our two favourite idiots, would be nothing if it weren't for all the amazing asks that you guys send to me <3
Secondly, I love this train of thought because I think it is very, very true. And it probably started back at the beginning of their friendship, right? Yes, it did. Follow me down this rabbit hole.
Bill doesn't make a lot of new friends because since the whole fame thing, he has trouble trusting people--and Bill, by nature, is a caretaker. He's extremely nurturing. He provides. He takes care of those close to him, in one way or another. But he knows his own empathic side, he knows its limits and boundaries, and one of the worst things he can do for his own well being is care about too many people. Get involved with too many people. Bill is happiest amongst his close group of friends, people he knows he can trust, people he can cook dinner for and host movie nights for and fly halfway around the world when he has a premiere.
And tiger, for her part--my girl tiger, she has zero self-preservation skills. Like, none. And Bill is fascinated by that. He's fascinated by this little fireball who not only has no idea who he is, but who subsequently really couldn't give a shit once she found out. He's enamoured with this little scrappy ball of ire who is convinced not only that she can start a bar fight with everyone in the pub, but that she can legitimately win. Bill's never seen anything like it. And once you meet tiger, she's impossible not to love. Or at least, it's impossible not to be intrigued by her, and to want to know more.
But the thing is, that firecracker personality and the massive chip on her shoulder doesn't come from nowhere--tiger's been hurt a lot. And it's because she never goes for the good guys. For as much as Bill has an empath side, tiger has the self-destructive kind where she wants to fix people. And she always goes for the dudes who will take and take and take, the dudes who play rope a dope with her heart, and who leave her shattered. Tiger gives her soul away too easily, and she takes it as a challenge when she's tossed to the side by some guy who was never worth her time anyway. She tries to prove she's worthy.
But then in comes Bill--this big, wall-eyed, kind of freaky looking dude who seems nice and kind and is moderately soft spoken. And when they hang out, Bill starts showing a genuine interest--platonically, of course--but it's genuine. He asks what she does for a living. He asks if she likes it. He wants to know where she went to school, what she studied. Does she have any siblings? Because he has a lot, and he knows how tough big families can make you. When tiger can't decide if she wants the chilli fries or the chicken wings one night at a pub, Bill tells her to get both--and that's when she knew they'd be friends.
And it slowly but surely escalated from there--still all platonic at the beginning--but suddenly, Bill was asking her how she was getting home, if she needed a ride. He was asking her how her week was, when everyone got together on Friday--and if she had mentioned something big previously, a meeting or a presentation or something--he'd remember, and ask her how it went. If he left the bar early, he'd politely ask her if she could text him when she got home.
"Why?" she scoffed.
"Because somebody needs to look out for you," he answered honestly. Tiger, in true fashion, balked awkwardly.
And this is where her defence mechanism started to fly up. Because when you're not used to being cared for, when you're not used to genuinely mattering to someone or hell even just getting the attention of a truly good person--it's weird. It's awkward. It's scary as hell and requires a level of vulnerability that tiger isn't ready to let exist--because it would mean that she would have to admit to herself that she is worthy. That this is the norm, and that she deserves this. That she knowingly let herself settle for being treated like shit for so many years.
And tiger's first defence is always anger. So maybe she started getting real snippy with him, probably well into their friendship by this point--so Bill was cooking for her, and if he wasn’t then he was checking in to make sure she ate at least one vegetable that day. If she had a date, he would wait until she texted him that she was in for the night--whether that was at the guy’s place or hers. If she needed a ride home in the morning then he would pick her up, in all of her walk of shame glory--but he’d pick her up with a few Advil, some big sunglasses, a huge coffee. And he would absolutely make fun of her nefarious, ill-fated decisions but he’d always wait at least 12 hours before he dared.
But to go even further--you are absolutely right. Bill does put her first. Once she is solidified as his best friend, then there’s no going back--she comes first. And part of it is Bill really is legitimately concerned because tiger has no self preservation skills and he worries that if HE doesn’t concern himself over her, then tiger will just like...her reckless decisions will be her undoing. He must look after Little Human, because Little Human’s self-destructive streak is far too prevalent. He has left dates in the dust when she needed his help. He looks out for her in group settings, and intervenes if some idiot is getting too handsy with her. If he has a boys night that night but tiger calls crying because some idiot broke her heart, or crying because it’s shark week and she’s out of gummy bears--then Bill is there. In a heartbeat, he’s there. She comes first.
And I’ll bet it’s all very nice, but it also kind of has tiger seething. Because she’s not used to this kind of...care. The genuineness of it. And tiger can’t be vulnerable enough to admit that part of her likes it, part of her feels safe knowing that even in the wee hours of the morning, Bill is awake and waiting for her to let him know she got in safely. Part of her kind of likes this idea that someone is thinking of her, that someone prioritizes her. But it’s still tiger, so she also gets hella mad. And she seethes--for a long time, she seethes. Quietly. And then maybe it all just comes to a head one night when she goes over to Bill’s place after work and he has a crisp glass of white wine waiting for her, a change of clothes, even her favourite make up remover--the kind that doesn’t sting, because she has sensitive skin. And all of that pisses her off, but then she walks into the kitchen as he’s deftly cleaning and slicing mushrooms.
“How did it go?” he asks casually. Tiger plays dumb.
“How did what go?” she swigs her wine.
“The meeting with your boss today.”
“...Fine,” she mumbles, petulantly. Of course he’d remember that, even though she told him two weeks ago.
“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he offers kindly. Tiger sees an errant pile of green onions on his chopping board, and she eyes them wearily but somewhat triumphantly. Bill heads to the fridge, pulls out a bowl of salad, then he tosses the green onions in. Perfect, she thinks, and it gives her a weird sense of satisfaction. Mr. Nice Guy, Mr. Considerate, doesn’t even remember what she considers to be the most significant thing about her. That she hates green onions. She feels triumphant, renewed. Somewhat weirdly comforted to confirm that perhaps she doesn’t mean that much to him.
Until he heads back to the fridge, and pulls out another bowl of salad--one that he promptly dresses, salts and peppers, and tosses. One without green onions. One for her.
“Why do you do that?!” she explodes. Bill jumps in surprise.
“Do what?” he asks innocently, “This one has no green onions!”
“Exactly,” she continues, “Ugh, Bill. Just...why do you always...ugh, Bill!”
Bill is stunned, still holding his bowl of salad, trying to figure out what exactly is happening here.
“It’s too much,” tiger says, slamming her wine down, “All of it is too much.”
“What’s too much?”
“You! This. Why do you always just....think of everything?” she says, and she’s steadfastly working herself into a tizzy.
“Tiger...”
“How? How do you remember these things? How do you fucking remember that I had a meeting with my boss today, a meeting that I told you about two weeks ago? Why do you make a whole other bowl of salad for me, why do you remember that I hate green onions?”
“Because I care about you kid,” he shrugs.
Tiger is angry, but she’s also at a loss for words. Bill’s genuineness, his honesty, will do that. For as much as she struggles to be vulnerable. Bill shows that side of himself openly. She doesn’t even know why she’s so angry. Bill watches her for a minute, but she’s kind of just bug-eyed so he goes back to his cutting board and starts calmly chopping his little mushrooms again.
“I don’t like it,” she mutters after a long pause.
“Too bad,” he shrugs non-chalantly. Tiger glares at him.
“Too bad?” she seethes.
“Too bad,” he repeats.
“Stop it,” she says.
“No.”
“Bill, I mean it. Stop always trying to--”
“No.”
“I’m not finished,” she stamps her foot, “Stop being such--”
“No.” he says again, “Tiger, this is what I do.This is how I am. I care about the people that matter to me.”
“Well I don’t ma--”
“Yes you do. You matter to me. So I suggest you put on your big girl panties, and fucking deal with it,” he says. And that’s final. Tiger is taken aback at his tone, at the way his face suddenly got serious--but then in a heartbeat, it’s relaxed again.
“Now, do you want mustard on your burger, or ketchup?” he asks. Tiger is petulantly silent, glaring at him.
“Tiger.” he warns, holding up the hamburger bun.
“Shouldn’t you already know?” she huffs in annoyance, going to the fridge and grabbing the wine. She swigs it right from the bottle as she boosts herself up on the kitchen counter. Bill goes to the fridge and grabs the mayo--her favourite--putting a thick schmear on the bun.
“God, get fucked asshole,” she mutters. Bill just grabs her face, plants a noisy kiss on her cheek as she shrieks and swats him.
#bill skarsgard#bill skarsgard drabble#BFF!Bill#bill skarsgard fanfic#bill skarsgard fanfiction#bill skarsgard fic
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Camp Willowdale / JJ Maybank AU / PART 6
Synopsis: Camp Willowdale is buzzing with new campers. It’s Caroline Windsor’s first year as a camp counsellor after attending the camp as a camper for ten years. Little does she know that this year Willowdale Lake is going to be a little different from what she is used to it being…
Warnings: future chapters may include curse words, mentions of drugs, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sexual activities, mentions of death.
Pairings: JJ Maybank x fem OC Part 1 ; Part 2 ; Part 3 ; Part 4; Part 5 ;
Masterlist
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Part 6 -
49 days of camp left
“The thing I don’t understand is,” said JJ, taking a sip of his coffee several days later at breakfast, “How is everyone so chill about all of this?”
“Yeah, everyone except for us,” said Caroline.
“And Topper,” mumbled Sarah.
Her three friends all looked up at her, eyes wide.
“What?” she looked back at them, eyes equally as wide in confusion, “Why’d you think he’s been moping around camp, face looking like a slapped ass?”
“Sarah, why didn’t you say anything at the campfire?” Caroline asked angrily.
“Um, I did,” defended Sarah.
“Um, no you didn’t,” clapped back JJ, getting visibly annoyed.
John B nodded and mumbled quietly, “They’re right, you didn’t…”
“Not now, John B,” snapped Sarah at him, turning towards her other friends, “What do you mean I didn’t?”
“When we asked you about what Topper said, you literally said ‘oh nothing of importance, he doesn’t care about the bitch either’ and then you went back to glaring at those girls goggling at John B,” said JJ.
Sarah scoffed, “I was only glaring because they refuse to listen to me and only do whatever he says,”
“That’s beside the point, Sarah,” sighed JJ, “If you weren’t too busy doing that, perhaps you’d have mentioned that Topper doesn’t buy the whole boyfriend story either, which could mean that we’ve got an ally amongst all of these lunatics!”
“Sorry,” Sarah shrugged, “I guess I just got distracted,”
Caroline shook her head sighing, “Anyway, it’s almost 9,” she looked at JJ, “What’s on our schedule for today?”
“Funny you ask,” JJ responded, “We’ve actually got swimming until 11, which means the kids have swimming until 11 and we can just chill by the lake,” he wiggled his eyebrows, “If you know what I mean,”
In the days since camp began, the whole Madison thing had died down and since there was no new occurrences and, well, no new leads, Caroline and JJ decided to put their primary focus on their teens. They’d made a small rule that every time their schedule indicated that they’ve got an activity where their physical participation is not directly required, Caroline would sneak some whiskey in their thermoses and they would quietly drink it in secret, just to spice up their day.
So far Caroline was doing a pretty good job at hiding her crush on JJ, which was somehow becoming bigger by the day. For some reason everything that JJ did was attractive. Whether it was him running, or teaching the boys how to tie a noose, or eating (pretty messily) his food, or not to mention swimming practice when he was required to get naked – Caroline could just stare at him all day. She was somewhat happy about their newfound tradition of taking over some of their daily tasks while tipsy because the alcohol was somewhat helping her seem more confident and less shy.
Caroline tied her long brunette hair in a Dutch braid and smeared the tiniest bit of mascara on her lashes, just to seem effortlessly pretty, of course. She adjusted the straps of her swimsuit and grabbed her and JJ’s prefilled thermoses before heading out to meet the boy and their group in front of the camper’s cabin.
“There she is,” said JJ, unable to hide his excitement, “We ready to go?”
The campers all agreed and they made their way down towards the lake, where Caroline and JJ sat at one of the benches while their campers hurried into the water.
“Now, now, Teens 2,” said JJ after them, not too bothered about sounding strict, “Usually our timetable says swimming, but since we’re all grown ups here, we can all do whatever we want, as long as we don’t go too far away from me and Carrie’s eyesight, alright?”
Everyone agreed and JJ sat back down next to Caroline, who handed him his thermos.
“I’ve gotta give it to you, Maybank,” she said, taking a sip of the spicy liquor in her flask, “You’ve got a way with kids,”
JJ smiled down at her, taking a sip too, “I mean they’re hardly kids, C,” he said, “Besides, I try my best, I wouldn’t want to embarrass myself in front of you,”
That blush that Caroline was all too familiar with crept back onto her cheeks, “In front of me?” she repeated, surprised.
“Yeah,” nodded JJ as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “I don’t see any other pretty girls around here,”
Caroline looked in the opposite direction, too shy to look at JJ, as she took another rather large sip of her drink, “JJ…”
“What? Can’t a guy give you a compliment?” he smirked, “Hey, come on now, we’re in this together, besides… your mom did say -”
Just as Caroline was about to turn towards JJ with a panicked look in her eyes, fearing what exactly her mom had said to him, two of their campers began screaming their names, diverting both of their attentions.
“Carrie! JJ! You’ve gotta come see this!”
JJ shot up, helping Caroline up as well, as they ran towards the dock. Bobby and Eli, the two campers who had called out for them, were hastily swimming back to shore.
“What is it?” Caroline asked, worry filling up her nerves.
“We found something dope!” said Eli, reaching the dock, “But we can’t reach it without you guys’ help,”
“What did you find?” asked JJ.
“That,” Bobby pointed in the direction they’d just swam from. There, a good distance away, in the middle of the body of water, stood an abandoned-looking stilt house.
“The old lake house,” JJ and Caroline said in unison.
“That’s just an old building, it’s been there forever and there’s literally nothing in it,” explained JJ, his nerves calming down after the initial jump scare, “Trust me, we’ve looked,”
Bobby rolled his eyes, “Oh, come on, you can’t be serious,” he moaned, “That place looks wicked!”
“Yeah, if you watch a lot of horror movies,” said Caroline, “JJ’s right, there’s nothing in there. I’ve been numerous times, it looks way cooler in your imagination, believe me. Reality is underwhelming,”
Eli crossed his arms, “If it’s so underwhelming why don’t you wanna take us there?”
JJ sighed, “Eli, taking you there would require taking the boats, which we’re not allowed to do unless it’s on our schedule, which it’s not, and if we take you there, we’d have to take everyone there, and -”
“Take everyone where?” came Jennie, another one of their campers’, voice suddenly.
“Yeah, JJ,” more campers gathered around the dock, “Where are you taking us?”
JJ and Caroline sighed in defeat as they shared a defeated look, making Bobby and Eli high five in victory.
“Change of plans, kids,” said JJ finally, giving in, “Swimming’s cancelled, looks like we’re going to be learning how to row today,”
_________________________________________________________
“You sure about this?” JJ grabbed Caroline’s hand as she was stepping off the boat and onto the back deck of the abandoned stilt house.
Caroline turned towards him and gave him a reassuring smile, “It’ll be just like the old days,” she said, her tone sounding promising.
JJ followed her onto the deck and they helped their campers tie their little boats on the deck’s cleats.
“Looks like y’all were really paying attention during our noose tying workshop,” JJ said proudly as he double-checked that all the boats were securely tied, “I’m gonna make sure to bring that up to Miss P and we might have a shot of winning at the Will-all-hail banquet,”
Caroline snorted at the name, “So tacky…”
“Come on guys, follow me and Carrie and watch your steps,” JJ signaled, catching everyone’s attention, “This place is crazy old so be careful! One wrong step and you may end up in the water,”
Carefully, the group entered the old creaky building. It was all too familiar to Caroline and JJ, the smell of mold and condensation hitting their nostrils as the single dusty dark room they had secretly lurked into numerous times as kids presented itself in front of them. Part of Caroline had always secretly wished for the old lake house to serve as a passageway to a parallel universe, or to hold some great big secret, or even to be inhabited by the not-so-friendly ghost of whoever built it back in the day, however unsurprisingly, nothing seemed out of the ordinary yet again. The room was empty, other than the numerous spider webs which decorated almost every corner and crease.
“There you go,” Caroline said, turning to leave, “Nothing to see here,”
JJ agreed, “As always, underwhelming and empty,”
“If it’s so empty,” spoke one of the campers, “then what’s that?” the teenager pointed in the direction of where there was once a door leading towards the front deck.
Everyone’s heads turned in that direction and sure enough, on one of the old nails sticking out of the door frame, was hung a piece of red fabric, barely noticeable from the inside, let alone from where the shore to camp was.
“Stand back,” said Caroline, slowly stepping forward towards the fabric. She peeped her head through the door hole cautiously, checking if there was anyone on the front deck, holding her breath as she did so. She breathed out in relief once she saw that the coast was clear and analyzed the fabric, “Hey, J, can you come over?”
JJ, half-impressed, half-paralyzed, snapped back to reality as he walked over to the girl who now looked so brave in his eyes, mentally slapping himself for not being a man and volunteering to go instead of her.
“Why does this look familiar?” Caroline said once JJ came over to piece of clothing. It turned out to be a dress.
JJ shrugged, pulling at the material and taking a sniff, “Whoever’s it is was here recently,” he said, “Smell of perfume is fresh,” he sniffed again, “And super strong,” he scrunched his nose, a look of disgust on his face.
Caroline took a sniff too, “Yeah, that smell is so familiar, but where from…” she sniffed again, closing her eyes in an attempt to figure out where she recognized the scent from.
“Probably one of the girls from your cabin,” concluded JJ, “I’d put my money on Jenna Kinley, she seems like the type to sneak around,”
Caroline smirked, “Sounds about right, she was probably up here sneaking around with Barry, I hear her talking about him all the time,” she unhooked the dress from the nail, “I’ll bring it back to her, she must think she’s lost it,”
JJ nodded and they led the campers out of the stilt house and onto shore again. Caroline tucked the dress in her bag along with her thermos and waited until after everyone’s daily activities were over to meet Sarah by the showers and tell her about her and JJ’s scandalous little discovery. Ever since they’d arrived at Camp Willowdale and had their phones taken away for the rest of the summer, the only source of news and gossip was whatever was happening around camp, and since it wasn’t all that much, every little bit of spice counted.
“So how was archery?” she asked Sarah as she folded her underwear and turned the water in her shower on.
Sarah followed in after her, not bothering on going into a neighboring shower stall. They had developed his habit of showering together about three days into camp, with Sarah seemingly having separation anxiety and insisting that “they’ve both got the same bits and pieces” and that how “any guy would be lucky to be in the position Caroline is in,”.
The blonde groaned as she squeezed some of her purple shampoo in her palm, foaming it up and working it into her hair, “Horrible,” she said, “How do you see me with a bow and arrows?”
“Do you really want me to answer that question?” teased Caroline, mirroring Sarah’s actions and washing her hair.
“Whatever, C,” Sarah rolled her eyes, “How was your swim date with your boyfriend?”
“Okay, first of all, he’s not my boyfriend,” said Caroline earning a smug look from Sarah, “And second, you’ll never guess what we found,”
“Oooh, is it the incessant lust you have for each other?” teased Sarah.
“No, it’s better,” said Caroline, ignoring her friend’s words, “We went to the old lake house and we may or may not have found what we believe to be Jenna’s dress just hanging there,” Sarah’s eyes widened at her words, “Yeah, we assume she’s sneaking around with Barry, how fucking scandalous is that?”
“Shut up!” gasped Sarah.
Caroline nodded excitedly, “Right? She’s been yapping about him nonstop and we just put two and two together,”
“Who’d have thought… little miss perfect and Barry,” scoffed Sarah, “D’you have the dress? It’ll be so embarrassing once you give it back to her, I can picture her face already,”
“You bet I do, it’s in my bag,” said Caroline, “Must’ve done the deed recently, it still reeks of her,” she scrunched her nose at the thought of the horrible smell.
Sarah raised an eyebrow, “What’re you pulling that face for? Does she smell that bad?”
Caroline shook her head, “It’s her perfume,” she explained, “Smells like what I imagine Miss P’s underwear drawer smelling like,”
Sarah scoffed, “Now you’ve got me intrigued,” she quickly rinsed her hair and body off, hurrying for her towel, “Where’d you say this dress was?”
Caroline nodded her head in the direction of her bag, “Somewhere in my bag,” she said, “But I’m being serious – you’ve been warned,”
As she continued rinsing her hair, Sarah dove her hand into Caroline’s bag, searching for the dress in question. When she finally felt it in her hand, she pulled the piece of clothing out pressing it against her nose to take a sniff. Her eyes widened in horror as realization consumed her.
“Carrie…” she mumbled not loud enough for her friend to look up, “Carrie, this isn’t Jenna’s dress,” she spoke louder.
This time, Caroline looked up at Sarah with a look of confusion in her eyes.
“The perfume you’re talking about,” said Sarah, “It’s Guerlain Shalimar, I’d recognize it anywhere,”
“Your point being…?”
“This perfume doesn’t belong to Jenna,” Sarah turned to look at Caroline, her eyes still wide in horror, “It’s Madison’s,”
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A/N: chapter 6 is upppp!! I hope you like it!! let me know what you think and if you want to be added in the tag list for future chapters, tell me!! xxx
tags: @k-k0129 ; @hayleyy-l ; @marvellover04
Part 7 here
#jj x y/n#jj masterlist#jj x you#jj x reader#jj one shot#jj fanfiction#jj x oc#john b#jj maybank#jj obx#jj outer banks#obx#kiara carrera#pope heyward#rudy pankow#pope#john b obx#john b routledge#maia mitchell#sarah obx#sarah cameron#rafe obx#rafe cameron
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JACE WEEK - Jace + Kit Ficlet
“So, the bracelet made him fall out of love with her?”
“No, no,” Jace corrected. “It made him fall in love with her. It was almost like a binding spell. But very dark magic. Dangerous stuff.”
However, dark magic could sometimes be cool. He tried not to grin when he said that though. The last thing he wanted was the kid to get involved with dark magic.
“Wait, was this the guy who was obsessed with an STD?” Kit asked.
“No, that was his dad,” Jace corrected again. “William Herondale.”
It felt good to be the one who knew. It felt good to be the one who wasn’t in the dark. It felt good to be a Herondale.
Jace only hoped that Kit would feel that way soon too.
“Will,” Kit smiled, as if thinking of something private. “Jem and Tessa’s Will.”
“Yes,” Jace beamed.
Will had been Tessa’s husband and Jem’s parabatai. They had been Will’s…well, everything. Theirs was a relationship that often made Jace feel pleasantly surprised. It was nice to know that love like that existed - love that surpassed time.
Jace hoped he could build something like that with Clary. A love story that lasted a lifetime.
“Okay, let me get this straight,” Kit said and tucked his feet underneath his lap. “William was the STD one and James was the bracelet boy. Herondales are…”
“Memorable?” Jace offered.
“Sure, let’s go with that,” Kit grinned.
“Ask Jem about Lucie,” Jace said when he remembered his chats with Tessa. “She was a writer. And she could talk to ghosts too. I think you might like her.”
“She sounds dope,” Kit nodded. “Herondales are a little artsy by the way. All the reading and writing and composing.”
“That they are,” Jace said proudly, which was a feel he was slowly getting used to with regard to his last name.
“Do you like to write, Kit?” Jace asked now, because he often felt like he didn’t know anything about the boy at all. Of course, that was the purpose of the monthly visits to Cirenworth. Yet, Jace knew Kit was holding back. He wondered if it he did that with everyone else too.
“Not really,” Kit shrugged. “I don’t play any instruments either. I don’t think I’m artsy like the rest of them.”
“Rest of us,” Jace corrected, it had become a habit with Kit. “Jem told me you like cookies. Cooking is an art too. Do you like to bake them?”
“Nah, I just like to eat them,” Kit pointed out, staring at his shoes. “S’okay. I know I’m not like the rest of them. But hey, in my defense I didn’t know I was one of them until like a year ago!”
“One of us,” Jace corrected again, because he never wanted Kit to forget. “And yeah. Valid point. I don’t want you give you an identity crisis. Been there. Done that. How about we do something? We can throw daggers or sharpen our swords?”
“Pass,” Kit said and flopped back into the grass. “Doing shit is exhausting.”
They were quiet for a moment then. Kit was on the ground with his arms crossed behind his head, simply staring at the sky - probably wondering how long he had to do these monthly sessions with Jace for. Meanwhile Jace himself was picking out grass and trying not to freak out.
“What about love?” Kit asked after a while, his voice barely above a whisper. “Tessa said Herondales are destined for great love stories.”
Jace closed his eyes and saw a flash of colour - the shade of autumn leaves and tempered fire.
“I’d like to think so,” he tried his best not to sound shy, he didn’t want to leave an impression as a softie.
“Were there…Were there any gay Herondales?” Kit asked, his voice quieter with every question.
Oh.
Jace had so many questions. So many. Why do you want to know? Are you gay? Do you like someone? What’s his name? And his address?
But his parabatai had taught him to always listen before speaking. Alec could really get into one’s head sometimes.
“I’m sure there were some,” Jace answered instead of asking. “I mean, it is statistically unlikely that there weren’t any LGBTIAQ+ Herondales in the past.”
Kit laughed out loud, something Jace wished the boy did more often. “Did you just say LGBTIAQ+?”
“Yep,” Jace grinned.
“Someone did their research,” Kit pointed with a smile and Jace felt oddly pleased.
“I did,” he nodded. “After Alec.”
He had asked for Clary’s help in learning more about it. He never wanted Alec to feel like he couldn’t talk to another shadowhunter about how he felt. So, Jace had spent hours after hours reading pamphlets and guides and watching videos on something called MeTube.
It had been mostly confusing. But all the research had left him more informed than he had been before.
He had begun reading once again after becoming the head of the institute with Clary. Being a leader meant understanding the needs of your team members. All team members.
“Do you think there were any gay Lightwoods?” Kit asked, his tone suggesting that he wanted to move on from the topic.
“Yeah, let’s not talk about the gayness of Lightwoods,” Jace chuckled. “We need a whole other day for that.”
“Hmmm,” Kit hummed.
“Whether it’s a boy or girl or a non binary person,” Jace said and Kit grinned at him again in surprise. “There is one rule of love that applies to all shadowhunters.”
“What?” Kit asked. “Wear black on all first dates?”
“Nephilim love only once,” Jace pointed out and explained what he had learned as all shadowhunters before him.
Kit chewed his lip and looked away. “That sounds a bit intense.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Jace grinned.
Kit was quiet again. He was fidgeting with his shoes. Jace understood the boy was nervous. He wanted to help. Jace knew there was much to say and much to know. He knew Kit needed to understand that love required sacrifice, hard work and resilience.
Jace couldn’t help but feel like he needed to give Kit support and guidance to navigate through all of this.
But he also felt that what Kit needed right now was space. So, he decided to do just that.
They sat there quietly, lying on the fields and talking about street food in New York. After a while, Kit looked at him, looking slightly more comfortable than before. “Let’s go back to the house?”
“And pretend we trained?” Jace asked and held out his hand.
“Yep,” Kit took his hand and raised himself up. “Let’s run back. We need to sweat. Also, make sure to ask for water as soon as you walk in. They think you’ve been training hard.”
“Damn,” Jace said, not knowing whether to be concerned or impressed. “Alright. Race you to the kitchen?”
“Are you ready, Jonathan Christopher?” Kit smirked.
“I’m ready, Christopher Jonathan,” Jace winked.
“Oh my god, your family is so wack,” Kit yelled as he broke into a run.
“Our family is so wack,” Jace yelled as he ran after him.
#I had a bad day so writing this made it 12% better#hope it makes your day 12% better too#jace herondale#kit herondale#jace week#tmi#tsc snippets#dani writes stuff
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Meeting and Dating Zeke Tyler
(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)
(I have a lot of thoughts about this greasy little man and the way he acts with girls)
- Zeke Tyler had been driving you nuts for as long as you could remember. Well, maybe that was an exaggeration. He’d been driving you nuts for as long as you’d known him; that was more accurate.
- Freshman year, that was when it had all started. You were a year younger than him and had been the target of his harassment since the day you met him. You couldn't go a day without him blatantly making fun of you, trying to embarrass you or making suggestive comments towards you just; what you could only assume was, to make a fool out of you.
- You tried your best to either avoid or ignore him, mainly staying quiet since you were on the shy side; something that probably contributed to his eagerness to mess with you. Anytime you tried to respond, he found it amusing. Any curses or insults you’d give him back, or your telling of him to leave you alone, we’re all delivered in vain.
“Come on y/n/n, when are you gonna let me take you out?” He’d tease with a smirk and you’d just know that he was only messing with you.
- The thing is, you couldn’t have been more wrong. All his propositions and invitations were genuine, Zeke just didn’t know how to deal with his feelings for you.
- It was easier for him to be a jerk and sarcastic with you, that way he could have an excuse to be around you whenever he wanted and pretend like he wasn’t hurt when you’d inevitably reject.
- Because of course you’d reject him. He was a burnout before he even had the chance, a drug dealing senior who’d been held back a year. Hell, his parents didn’t even like him. Why would you?
- Funny thing is, as much as he tried to be a dick to you, even you could notice the occasional cracks in his façade, though you’d tend to try to write them off.
- An increasingly obvious crack was the fact that no one else was allowed to treat you the way he did. The minute someone else tried, he’d jump to your defense and turn on them, giving them shit or just telling them to leave you alone. He was possessive over his victims, yay!
- Okay, to be fair and honest and all that: You didn’t hate Zeke. You didn’t necessarily like him or the way he treated you, but you didn’t hate him. There was even a part of you that felt a strange attraction towards him; as much as you didn’t like admitting it.
- Which is something you ended up making known to him one day after school when you happened to be the only people left in the building. You were at your locker, he’d approached you and after he teased and once again “asked you out”, you finally spoke up.
“Why do you always do that?”
“Do what?” He’d grinned in response, waiting eagerly for your reply.
“Act like a jerk and then try to take me out. Why would I go out with you after you mess with me all day?”
“So you’re saying that you’d go out with me if I was nicer to you?” He’d asked lowly, taking a step closer as the two of you locked eyes.
- You stuttered out an objection before saying a flustered goodbye and making your exit. He should probably thank you for that advice one of these days.
- Taking your advice, Zeke “acts nice”; in his own special way. Instead of being a total jackass, he acts teasingly kind to you: always greeting you and asking how you’re doing, exaggeratedly opening doors for you, all but pleading to help you with things. He’s obviously still sarcastic but it’s …less obnoxious. It’s after a week or so of that, that things finally come to a head.
- You were sitting outside in the hot sun, trying to do your chemistry homework while having no idea what the fuck it was talking about. Finally, you'd just about given up, putting your face in your hands while trying to get a grip before you completely lost it. That was when a quiet voice rang out from in front of you.
- Obviously, it was Zeke and before you knew it, he’d taken your pencil and done the problem for you, telling you how to do it in a few easy steps.
- A bit shocked but more than grateful, you thanked him quietly. He gave you a small smile and began to straighten up again, but just before he did, he met your eyes once more and asked if you wanted to hear something funny.
“I could have graduated last year, you know? …I mean if I wanted to, I could have, …but I didn’t. And I mean, I guess it was for a bunch of reasons but one of them ...one of them was you,” He’d started, looking away from you and to his hands which were resting against the table. “And I’m sure that sounds really stupid, but it’s a fact. …I guess what I’m trying to say is that I like you ..a lot, and I want to know, in all seriousness, if you would go out with me.”
You froze for a moment but just as he was about to leave; figuring you were going to turn him down like always, you’d responded with a “I’m free on Friday.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Then I’ll pick you up at eight.”
- The two of you go and watch movies at his house for your first date. His parents are rarely ever home and that day was no exception so the two of you had the whole house to yourselves.
- It was just after the first movie ended that the two of you shared your first kiss. He was settling back on the couch after popping in the second film when the two of you locked eyes. He slowly leaned in, his hand moving to gently brush against your cheek before his lips met yours, soft at first before becoming more passionate.
- The movie was quickly forgotten about as he lowered you back against the couch. It was only until a loud scream erupted from the television that you were snapped out of your daze. You finally pulled away, gently holding his face in place and shyly mentioning that you should “probably leave it at that”, causing a grin to spread across his face.
- It’s safe to say that after that, the two of you were officially addicted to each other.
- Zeke really doesn’t whether people are watching or not, if he wants to hug or kiss you in public then they “can look away like normal fucking people”.
- Handholding. Well, you’re sorta just holding his sleeve most of the time but that’s just how Zeke is.
- Hugs from behind. He usually ends up nuzzling his face into your neck whenever he does.
- Hairline kisses. He’ll pull you closer and give you one whenever you're leaving for class.
- Soft kisses. As cocky as he acted, when you first started your relationship, he was always really nervous when going in for a kiss.
- Cheek strokes. They’re the barest, featherlight touches you’ll ever feel but they’ll still make your heart race.
- Getting swept up in makeout sessions.
- Hickeys. He doesn’t really care about placement but if you protest, he’ll leave them in more hidden areas.
- Zeke takes it personally when you don’t want him being affectionate with you. He’s the boyfriend that asks what your problem is when you keep letting go of his hand or shrugging off his hugs/arm.
- Please cuddle him. He likes to occasionally pretend like he doesn’t like it or is annoyed by it but he sure as hell doesn’t let you go when you go to pull away.
- Him falling asleep on you. He’ll lay his head on your lap with his arms wrapped around your waist while you run your fingers through his hair or down his back.
- You get a few nicknames and pet names from him, usually things like sweetheart, Princess, and babe.
- He genuinely likes when you call him pet names. He’ll usually roll his eyes at you but then he’ll look away and try to hide his shy little smile afterward.
- Honestly, Zeke is really cute with you most of the times; especially when you’re alone together. Nose boops or rubs, forehead presses, sweet teasing comments. On the inside, he’s just a softie who really wants to be loved.
- One day, he just took off his ring and slipped it onto your finger while he was playing with your hands. He told you to keep it when you asked about it ...so consider that a promise ring because that’s what he secretly considers it.
- Massages. He’ll use any excuse to touch you honey; especially if it can lead to something more.
- Wearing his jersey. That is ...a kink, and that’s all I’m saying about that.
- Sitting on the bleachers and watching him practice after he joins the football team.
- Sharing food.
- He likes hearing you talk; it doesn’t even matter what about. You could be talking about completely meaningless bullshit and he’d be perfectly content with listening to it. He’s sort of just happy that you want to tell him things, and he just likes your voice.
- Book talk. He may or may not have found a secret love for literature purely because you were interested in it and in his English class.
- Zeke’s a smart guy, he just doesn’t try, so you tend to make sure he studies and actually does his assignments.
- Jokingly teasing him about his glasses.
- Hanging out in his lab with him.
- The two of you frequent school storage rooms and closets. You occasionally help him steal things but more often than not, the two of you just makeout in there.
- Going to junkyards and smashing stuff.
- Lighting off fireworks with each other.
- Bonfires.
- Watching somewhat amused as he plays pranks on and makes fun of people. You keep a bit of a leash on him and make sure he isn’t too much of an asshole.
- Sitting on his car in the parking lot together.
- Keeping him company as he smokes.
- Free drugs and free *all his other inventory*. That being said, he’ll occasionally refuse to give you something because he cares too much about you and doesn’t want to fuck up your life. He’ll usually say something like “you don’t want this” or laugh and tell you he “isn’t giving you any” when he does.
- I’m convinced that Zeke would actually be really good at calming people down from panic attack purely because of his history with drug users. If he can handle a doped up tweaker, he can handle you.
- Getting little surprises left in your locker, he may or may not pick your lock to put them there. But hey, if you ever need to get into someplace, he’s got it covered.
- He sort of thinks it’s funny to scare you, usually with his driving.
- Going on death rides in the middle of the night.
- Sneaking out to see him. Given the way Zeke is and; likely, his general reputation, your parents probably aren’t fans of him, and even if they were, they probably wouldn’t let you go out with him at midnight.
- Honestly, he sort of likes when you insult him; as long as it doesn’t hit too close to home. If you call him an asshole, he’ll probably just pull you into a kiss as he smiles.
- He makes sure that no one walks all over you; especially if you have a habit of apologizing for no good reason, he won’t let his girl be anyone’s doormat.
“You don’t have to explain yourself to no one. Just get in the fucking car.”
- I’m sorry but your boyfriend is a really jealous guy; mainly because he’s insecure and oftentimes feels like he isn’t good enough for you. He’ll ask what you were doing whenever he sees you with other guys and won’t forget about it unless it’s obvious that you aren’t interested in them and they aren’t interested in you.
- Zeke would wholeheartedly fucking ice an entire room full of people for you and that is the honest to god truth. The minute someone acts even the slightest bit antagonistic towards you, he’s on there ass like he’s your guard dog.
- Surprisingly enough, you and Zeke rarely ever have serious fights. More often than not, you just bicker with each other before settling things fairly quickly.
- When things are more serious, he’ll argue and curse but he hardly ever yells, unless he’s raising his voice for emphasis. The only problem that really arises when you’re fighting is the fact that he thinks it’s amusing or hot when you’re angry so he just can’t take you seriously a lot of the time.
- Zeke’s a bit of a jackass so he’ll corner you/pull you into secluded places and not let you leave until he speaks his peace when the two of you have had a fight. That being said, he does offer you a genuine apology after doing so, and usually pulls you in for a kiss once you’ve forgiven him.
- He tells you he loves you quite a bit, albeit really casually, like when you’re saying goodbye and he just says “love you” without thinking. He does get a bit embarrassed when it’s in front of other people though.
- He likes to imagine that the two of you will stay together no matter what happens but when he thinks about the future and all that comes with it, he gets a bit nervous. He thinks he’d make a shitty father; because of his own parents, even though he’s sort of really cute and good with kids.
#zeke tyler imagines#zeke tyler imagine#zeke tyler headcanons#zeke tyler headcanon#the faculty imagine#the faculty headcanons#the faculty headcanon#the faculty imagines#90s movie headcanon#90s movie imagine#90s movie headcanons#90s movie imagines
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No Return
Note: so this is not a new fic. i actually posted it back in 2017 (but deleted all my smut from this blog about a year afterwards haha we love being impulsive). but i’m over myself now, so i’m reposting! a lot of you have been asking about it, so... here you go. posted for all of y’all to enjoy again.
Word Count: 4.7k
Pairing: Daveed Diggs x Reader
Warnings: smut. cursing.
Summary: Diggs loses a bet which results in him owing you a lap dance.
Parties at Rafa’s place were always the best; the drinks were great, the music was amazing, the atmosphere was never dull, but the best part about them were the incredible people that made up each one; you were never bored. There was always something to do whether you were talking to people, dancing, playing drinking games, or just drinking in general. And that’s why whenever you were told that there was going to be a party at Rafael Casal’s apartment, you never turned it down...even if you ended up showing up late.
“Well, look at who finally decided to show up.” You heard a familiar voice say as you walked through the door to Rafa’s place. Daveed grinned widely at you before he slid an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to him as you walked deeper into the apartment. “My favorite!”
Daveed was one of your closest friends and if you were being honest, it would have been a lie if you said you didn’t want him to become something more than that. The two of you often flirted and were constantly together (these occurrences happened so often that there were many times people believed you were dating), but neither of you had made a real move. You knew how you felt toward him, and he was giving you signs that he felt the same way, but no true actions were made by either party. So that’s why it stayed the way it was between you two: just close friends who often flirted with each other.
“Aw, I’m your favorite?” You asked, raising your voice so he could hear you over the loud music that was pumping through Rafa’s speakers.
“Uh, yeah,” he stated as if it was obvious, “but don’t tell anyone else. It’s a secret between you and me.” He whispered in your ear as you entered the kitchen.
Yeah, he had definitely downed a few drinks before you got here.
“Diggs, I’m pretty sure everyone heard you when you shouted it.” You laughed as you plucked the cup half-full of alcohol from his grasp, draining it of its contents. He pouted at you once you handed him back an empty cup.
“Y/N, hey! It’s been forever since I’ve seen you!” Adrienne said from beside Rafa who was pouring out a few drinks.
“Hey!” You pulled away from Daveed’s grasp to give her a hug. She’d been away in Canada for the last few weeks shooting for a new project she was working on. “I’ve missed you! Why’d you have to leave me alone to deal with these boys for so long?”
Adrienne laughed while Rafael furrowed his eyebrows.
“Oh, so you didn’t miss me? I see how it is, Y/N, I see how it is.” He feigned hurt, before pushing a couple of newly filled cups towards you and Daveed.
You rolled your eyes at him. “We had lunch a few days ago, Cash, it hasn’t been that long since I’ve seen you.”
“But so much has changed since then.”
You chuckled before taking a sip. “Like what? Did you finally finish that song you’ve been working on?”
“No.” Rafael replied before he smiled at Adrienne beside him. “Unlike Diggs, I am no longer a single and lonely Bay Boy.”
Daveed’s eyebrows furrowed as he cocked his head. “Yo, who said I was lone—?”
“You guys are finally together? Oh my god, congrats!” You cut in with widened eyes.
They both grinned at each other before Rafa leaned down to kiss her forehead.
“Aww,” you gushed, “you two are couple goals already.”
A few seconds passed before you felt Daveed’s arm drape around your shoulders again.
“You know, we could be couple goals too.” He said, looking down at you with a smirk.
You rolled your eyes, pushing him away. “Ha, you wish, Diggs.”
You laughed it off because you knew he was too tipsy to be serious. He always flirted with you like this, but why did this time feel so different?
A few drinks later, you were beginning to feel the familiar light-hearted, buzzing feeling course throughout your body, giving you a boost of energy. You had drifted away from Daveed and Rafa to roam through the house and catch up with people you hadn’t seen since your Hamilton days. You were talking with Adrienne and Ari when you heard your name being called from behind you.
“Aye, Y/L/N!”
You turned your head to see Daveed standing next to a table a few feet away.
“Diggs!” You responded in the same playful tone.
He grinned at you before waving you over. “Come play Flip Cup with me.”
“Really?” You quirked an eyebrow. “You lose every time you play against me, D.”
“I’m feeling confident today. I’ve been practicing.”
You tried not to laugh as you rose from your seat and approached him. “Practicing?”
“Bruh,” Rafa snickered at his friend from the other end of the table. “You played a few games before this and won two in a row. That ain’t practicing.”
You let a smug grin show up on your face as you glanced back up at your best friend. “Daveed, I am the queen of Flip Cup, okay? You can’t beat me. Nobody ever has, and nobody ever will. That’s a fact.”
“I’m pretty sure I can beat you today, Y/N.” He said bluntly. Wow, he was forward when he was drunk. “I have a good feeling about this.”
“Ha,” you huffed out a laugh, “wanna bet?"
“What do you propose, oh mighty Queen of Flip Cup?”
You thought for a second. What was something you knew would make him think twice about challenging you? Something that would make him step down from this newfound cockiness he embodied.
When the idea formed in your head, you sent him a sly grin. “Winner gets a lap dance from the loser.”
You distinctly remembered an earlier conversation with him where he stated that he couldn’t dance. You knew it was untrue due to the times you’d seen him dance at the club or during some of the numbers in Hamilton, but you also knew that the wager wasn’t something he’d necessarily jump on (despite the confidence boost the alcohol had supplied him).
Rafa led the mini crowd that had formed around you in a chorus of “ooo”s.
“Deal.”
You looked up at Daveed in surprise. You hadn’t expected him to agree to the terms so easily.
“Diggs, that means if you lose— sorry, when you lose, you have to give me a lap dance.”
“I know.” He said seriously.
“And you’re good with that?”
“If it happens, which it won’t because I’m gonna win, then yes.” He stated, his mouth forming into a confident smile. “I’m good with that.”
Fine, he wanted a challenge? You were going to give him one.
“Alright, then.” You said, narrowing your eyes at him. “Game on."
⋆﹥━━━━━━━ ♛ ━━━━━━━﹤⋆
Daveed lost. Badly.
So badly, in fact, that you actually felt bad for him. So you tweaked it so it was the best out of five games...and even then, he still lost.
Oh well, it’s not like you didn’t warn him.
When the third game ended and Daveed realized his defeat, he threw his head back and groaned.
“Aww, don’t be such a sore loser. You lost fair and square, Diggs. ” You teased with a smile, wrapping your arms around his torso to hug him from behind. “I warned you. I told you I was the queen of Flip Cup, but you didn’t listen.”
“Those cups were rigged, Y/N.” He stated, turning around in your grasp so he could hug you back.
You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Say whatever you want to make yourself feel better. Nothing’s gonna change the fact that you owe me a lap dance.”
He was quiet for a moment before he murmured something. “You know I can’t dance, right?”
“First of all, yes you can. And secondly, lap dances are different, Diggs.”
“No, they’re not.”
“Yes they are. And if you don’t think they’re different, you dance at parties all the fucking time. You should be able to handle an easy lap dance.”
He lifted his head back up from your shoulder to look down at you. “But Y/N...”
You let out a laugh before you patted his cheek lightly. “You dug yourself into this hole, loser. Guess you’re just gonna have to figure it out because you’re not getting out of this one.”
⋆﹥━━━━━━━ ♛ ━━━━━━━﹤⋆
The next day you woke up to someone knocking on your door. In sweats and an old t-shirt, you made your way over to unlock it, squinting your eyes to adjust to the bright light. The slight hangover you had wasn’t really helping you get out of your groggy state.
“Daveed?” You asked, realizing who your visitor was once your vision adjusted. “What are you doing here so early?”
He was dressed in a yellow Oaklandish tank top that showed off his toned arms/shoulders and dark blue jeans with a brown belt buckled just enough to let them sit loosely on his hips. You also noticed that he decided to rock his glasses today.
You snapped your eyes up to his and away from his figure that left you breathless. You totally had not just checked him out.
“If your definition of early is 2 o’clock in the afternoon, I think you may need to reevaluate some things and consider fixing that sleep schedule of yours.” He replied with his lips turning up into an amused grin.
“Shut up, I had a late night last night.” You mumbled, turning around to walk away, leaving the door open so he could let himself into your apartment. “And you did too. I’m surprised you’re not asleep right now.” You glanced back at him to see him shrug.
“I had to meet Bill and Jon at the studio at 10. I’ve been up since, like, 9:30.”
“Damn, Diggs, you’re gonna have to teach me your ways.”
“Caffeine.” He chuckled, putting on his signature grin. “It works miracles.”
You returned the smile, before sending him a curious look. “So, why are you here? Not that I mind or anything, it’s good to see you, but you haven’t been over in like a month and a half.”
“Exactly! It’s been awhile since we’ve hung out alone, so I thought it’d be dope if we chilled and watched movies or something.” He replied before he went to ramble on. “I mean— only if you want to. If you’re really tired, I can leave so you can get some more sl—”
“No, no, it’s fine! That sounds great.” You cut him off and placed a hand on one of his toned arms to reassure him.
“You sure?”
“Yeah!” You responded. “Just let me take a quick shower and we can start in like 20ish minutes.”
“A 20 minute shower counts as a quick shower?” He questioned with a teasing look.
“Yes,” you said, “or would you rather it be 45ish minutes?”
“20ish minutes is good. Have fun with your quick shower. Though, I think it would be more fun if I joined.” A tiny but noticeable smirk made its way onto Daveed’s face.
You laughed when he sent you a playful wink, dropping your hand from his arm to walk towards your room. “You wish, Daveed Diggs.”
“You have no idea.” He mumbled under his breath (inaudible to your ears) before he let his eyes follow your retreating figure.
“Maybe you could set up the movie in the meantime? It’s your turn to choose. The remote’s on the coffee table and you know where the popcorn and shit is in the kitchen. I’ll be out soon. If you need anything, yell.” You said before closing the door to your room.
Daveed sent a thumbs up in your direction even though he knew you couldn’t see it before he made his way to your living room.
Little did you know, Daveed had something else planned.
⋆﹥━━━━━━━ ♛ ━━━━━━━﹤⋆
When you emerged from your shower, you quickly dried yourself and combed through your now damp hair. After that, you exited your room and entered your living room to see that it was completely dark. Confused, you surveyed the room to look for your best friend, but there was no sign of him at all.
Did he leave? If he did, he didn’t text you or anything to let you know.
“D?” You called out, walking further into the room.
With each step you took, the more you realized how this seemed like a scene from a horror film. You weren’t a fan of them, but a few months back Daveed and Rafael had pretty much forced you to have a scary movie marathon with them.
“Daveed Diggs, I swear to God. If you’re trying to scare me right now, I will—”
You squeaked when a pair of arms snaked their way around your waist from behind. Daveed’s voice had come seemingly from out of nowhere. “You’ll what?”
“Kick your ass.” You glared at him, quickly turning around to push him away. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”
He laughed, smiling brightly. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”
“No, you’re not.” You grumbled, moving to sit on your couch. Daveed followed you.
“You right. It was so worth it.” He grinned at you, causing you to roll your eyes at him. You tried to stay mad at him, but it was damn near impossible when he was looking at you like that.
“We’re not friends anymore.” You stated, crossing your arms.
“What, why?” He asked, his grin dropping into a pout.
“You were mean to me, Diggs! How dare you scare me in my own home!” You were laughing internally.
“Okay, fine. I’m sorry for real this time. What can I do to make it up to you?”
When he asked, you contemplated it for a few moments before you looked up at him with a smirk.
“What?” He asked.
“Well, you still owe me that lap dance…”
He groaned, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back on the couch. “I thought you forgot about that.”
“Nope.” You said, your smirk forming into a smug grin. You had the upper hand now. “How could I forget you losing a bet against me, resulting in a lap dance from the great Daveed Diggs himself?”
After a couple of seconds, he sighed, opening his eyes and tilting his face towards you. “If I do this now, will I win back your friendship?”
“I’ll think about it.” You said, causing him to give you a deadpanned look. You laughed before you spoke again. “Yeah, I guess we could be friends again. But it has to be good.”
Daveed sighed again before he straightened himself up. “I don’t even know how to give a good lap dance, Y/N.”
“Improvise. C’mon, D, you’re great at improv. Treat it like you treat a freestyle. Just go with the flow.” You smiled widely at him.
“Fine.” He said, getting up from his spot next to you. “But I’m only pulling through with this because I like you.”
“Aww, you like me?” You asked teasingly to mask the actual feeling that was coursing through you. You continued to grin at him as he pulled out his phone to scroll through his music library. When he finally settled on a song by The Weeknd, he turned to you once he pressed play.
“Do I start now?”
“Yes,” you laughed. “C’mon, you know how a lap dance works. You’re not a novice when it comes to these things, stop fucking around.”
You could see him smile and rub his arm before he looked away for a second. When he started to slowly sway to the beat of the song, it was extremely hard for you to stifle your laugh. Your best friend was about to give you a lap dance and you could not take him seriously.
He continued to dance to the beat for a bit as he stared you down with a smirk. He was doing this shit on purpose. He was joking around until you couldn’t contain your laughter any longer.
“Diggs, I can’t take you seriously like this. I can—” You wheezed. “I just can’t.”
Your laughter and the slow, sexy beats of the music were the only audible things in your apartment until Daveed spoke again.
“Are you ready for me, Y/N?” His smooth, low voice washed over you.
You let out yet another giggle. “Don’t make it sound so sexual.”
“It's supposed to sound sexual, Y/N, it’s a fucking lap dance.” He chuckled, now standing directly in front of you.
“Alright, show me what you got, Bay Boy.”
You continued to laugh at him as you watched him, but the moment he straddled your lap, you stopped. His arms were on each side of your head, using the couch to steady himself over you as his hips began to slowly grind against you. That’s when the atmosphere in the room completely changed.
Your eyes widened slightly when you saw him bite his bottom lip in concentration. When you envisioned Daveed giving you a lap dance the night prior, you didn’t think it would be like this...it was flustering you more than you thought it would. Before you knew it, you were struggling to control your movements. Your fists were clenching and unclenching as you so desperately tried to keep them anchored to your sides.
As if he had read your mind, Daveed murmured, “You can touch me, Y/N. Don’t be afraid.”
If you weren’t turned on before, you definitely were now. His gravelly voice paired with his hot breath right next to your ear caused you to shiver, making goosebumps appear across your entire body.
Then, you finally let your hands wander. They traveled up his chest to rest on his shoulders, then back down again to move under the hem of his tank top so you could feel his bare and strong torso. Sure it was a bold move, but the more and more Daveed grinded on you, the less and less you cared. When his tank top rode up to the point where you could see all of his abs, he paused to stand up and quickly get rid of the article of clothing before he came back to straddle you again.
Your heart was beating wildly in your chest as you looked up at your best friend. He looked undeniably attractive when he was on top of you shirtless and with his glasses on. Every feeling you had ever felt for him came crashing down on you at that moment and that’s when you just about lost your self-control. Part of your brain was screaming at you, saying that you were about to cross a line that you could never cross again...but at the same time, all of your cares had disappeared.
You used your newfound courage to cup Daveed’s face in both of your hands and pull him into a deep kiss. He gasped softly, surprised at the sudden contact, but quickly eased into it.
You had just passed the point of no return.
You didn’t know what to expect when you decided to kiss him, but it was better than you could have imagined. When you pulled back, his mouth was slightly dropped in awe and one of the sides slowly twitched up into a soft smile. (It was kind of adorable.)
“Daveed, I like you.” You blurted, short of breath.
His face broke out into a full grin. “I like you too, Y/N.”
“No,” you shook your head, moving your hands from his cheeks down to his shoulders. “I mean like— like like you.”
“I know,” he chuckled. “I mean, I figured given what just happened a few seconds ago. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
You shrugged, breaking eye contact with him. You subconsciously traced one of your thumbs across his collarbone. “I was afraid of rejection, I guess.”
“Are you serious?”
“What?” You asked, sounding offended.
Daveed caught your gaze again, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Y/N, I’ve had like the biggest fuckin’ crush on you since Ari introduced us.”
“Wait, really?”
“Mhm,” he hummed. “I’m actually really surprised you didn’t notice.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about your crush earlier, Diggs?” You voiced, giving him a pointed look.
He gave you a shy smile when he moved off of you to sit beside you, still facing you. “Same reason as you.”
“You know what? I’m not even mad about not knowing sooner.” You said. “I’m glad we found out like this.”
“You’re just happy I gave you a lap dance with my amazing skills.” He teased with a laugh of his own.
You laughed again, and pushed at his chest so he could lay on his back and let you crawl on top of him to straddle his waist. “Not gonna lie, I didn’t think you had it in you, Diggs.”
His jaw dropped completely as he looked up at you. “But you said that I could do a lap dance when even I said I couldn’t!”
“That’s true, but to be fair, I never said you couldn’t do a lap dance. I just didn’t think you’d do as well as you did.”
Your response brought yet another smile to his face as you leaned closer to him. “I’mma take that as a compliment.” He said softly.
At this point, the song Daveed had chosen had ended a while ago and the lap dance was long over.
“Good.” You responded before you kissed him again.
This one was different from the first. It started off soft, but quickly turned passionate and heated. As your mouths moved against each other, Daveed’s hands moved from your hips up to the hem of your shirt, his fingertips grazing your bare sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake. The only word you could use to describe this feeling was just complete bliss.
When you reached down to Daveed’s belt buckle, he shivered, causing you to smile against his lips.
Then he pulled away, panting. “Y/N…” he breathed. “Are you sure about this? You don’t have to— fuck.” He cursed as you pulled back completely to unbuckle his pants. “I don’t wanna push y—”
“Daveed,” You said, before pausing quickly to put a hand on his scruff, tenderly moving your thumb to caress his cheek. “I’m absolutely sure about this. Now please, shut the hell up so I can blow you.”
You smirked when you saw his eyes widen and when you crawled off of him to go in between his legs, you heard a quiet, “Okay.”
Wasting no more time, you removed his jeans and boxers to free his erection. You could see Daveed’s chest begin to rise and fall quicker when you took his length into your hand and pressed a kiss to the tip of it.
“Oh, shiiit.” He drawled softly when your mouth wrapped around him, slowly sucking your way down as far as you could. As you began to bob your head up and down, Daveed’s breathing increased with each suck and occasional flick of your tongue.
Now, he was fully panting. He lifted his head up to look down at you, causing him to groan. After a minute or two, he brought a hand down to move some strands of hair out of your face.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he babbled, “I...I shouldn’t...oh God, I shouldn’t be this fucking close.”
You slowly pulled off of him and he brought you back up to kiss him again.
“You,” Daveed breathed against your lips, “are way too fucking good at that.”
You grinned.
“And,” he continued, “this clothing situation is a bit unbalanced, don’t you think?”
His thumbs grazed the waistband of your sweatpants. When you nodded, you pulled them down along with your underwear. You moved off of him to take them off completely and remove your shirt and bra, leaving you just as bare as he was.
You climbed back on top of him, straddling his washboard abs, when he ushered you to move up. You obeyed, moving forward an inch or two, but Daveed shook his head and grabbed your thighs, moving you himself.
“Daveed, what are you doing?”
“Returning the favor.” He said simply, bringing you over to his face.
“Oh,” you breathed when you felt his tongue lightly touch your clit.
The man’s mouth worked miracles from between your thighs. Daveed kept you still above his skilled tongue, occasionally giving your ass a squeeze.
“D-Daveed,” you gasped, your mouth forming a perfect ‘O’ as his tongue lightly circled your clit before he brought fully into his mouth to suck gently.
This was the best head you’d gotten...well ever, actually. He wanted you to feel the best you’d ever felt and he definitely achieved that.
Before you knew it, you were reaching your high, climaxing as you shouted Daveed’s name, not caring how loud it echoed throughout your apartment. When you crawled back down Daveed’s body, the two of you shared a sloppy kiss as you both breathed heavily.
Although you just came, you weren’t completely satisfied. You still wanted him... needed to feel him inside you.
You moved to position yourself above his cock, but he made you pause before you could do so.
“Y/N, stop,” Daveed panted. “Condom.”
“Don’t need it.” You replied quickly. “I’m on the pill.”
“Oh, fuck yes.” He replied, releasing you so you could resume what you were about to do.
You breathed out a laugh before you slowly sank down onto his length, making both you and him release a groan.
“You are so fucking gorgeous,” he gasped. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this.”
Your fingers ghosted along his stubble-ridden jaw. “I think I have an idea.”
When you adjusted to his size, you began to bounce and he helped you, meeting each of your thrusts as he guided your hips onto him.
Your lips met Daveed’s yet again and you captured every moan that fell from his mouth, he did the same for you. As your pace quickened, so did each grunt, pant, and moan. You felt your pussy begin to clench again like it had when you came before.
“I’m gonna come,” Daveed said quickly against your mouth.
“Fuck.” You groaned. “Me too, D.”
“Come for me, sweetheart.” He breathed, bringing a hand up from your hip to cup your cheek. “You can do it.”
And you did.
Your walls clenched around him and you gasped, letting your orgasm wash over you in waves. Daveed came shortly after you, and continued to thrust, riding the both of you through your highs.
As you came down and pulled yourself off him, you collapsed, exhausted, halfway leaning on him and halfway laying on your couch. You moved a hand up to rest on his chest again, closing your eyes in bliss as you relaxed against him.
After a minute or two of silence, Daveed broke it.
“Wait, so...does this mean we’re friends again?”
You looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. He was still on that? Wow, what a dork. “After this? Everything that just happened?” You asked bewildered. “God, I hope not.”
“Fine,” he said letting his signature bright smile show up on his face, still breathing heavily. “More than friends?”
Your heart fluttered in your chest and you grinned widely back at him. You leaned up to softly kiss his jaw before you gave him your answer.
“Way more than just friends, D.”
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|UNWRAP ME|M|
CHEEKY SNEAK PEEK #2
Pairing : Jimin X Reader (Ft a lil Tae)
“There’s a bow on my panties because my ass is a present!”
About- Honestly, you were just trying to prep gift bags for your company’s holiday party! But Jimins stressed, and needs a little brain reset sooo….I guess we’re prepping gift bags later!
Or- The company has quite a few deadlines to hit before you guys close for the holiday! Jimin’s in charge of talent and everybody’s fucking up…but in your line of work it’s a domino affect! So if his crew falls behind ultimately everybody’s behind! Hints Jimin’s stress and frustration....
WC: Sneak peek (1k)
WARNINGS: (FULL THING): Teasing, light edging, dirty talk, top/bottom OC, top/power bottom Jimin, hand restraints, unprotected sex, over stimulation, fingering (F receiving), biting/marking kink, VERY light degration kink (he playfully calls her a “little bitch/slut” once) light come play, light spanking
FINAL NOTE: This is a stand alone smut drabble within my OT7 poly universe called “7 DEEP”. Short AU SUMMARY: Your husband Namjoon and yourself run a successful Adult Film Entertainment Company called “Onyx” with your 5 best friends from college who you also happen to be in an open relationship with! P.S. If you’re new here Kookie joins the party a little later….
*Pierced Jimin/Red haired “Dope” Era Jimin meets 2020 Jimin!?
*Also it should go without being said but Jimin, IS Westernized, he’s from LA in this ffs!
*I’m a perfectionist and re-worked the entire smut scene which is why the post is late, I felt bad and decided to drop this cheeky little sneak peek!
______________________________________________________
“You can do this shit in your sleep, this was just a curveball you weren’t expecting so it knocked you off your square a little. There’s nothing wrong with that, it doesn’t make you any less capable of doing your job!” The words hushed off your lips as you started to leave little butterfly kisses up the side of his neck. Lacing your lips and teeth around the lobe just enough to tease. A sharp breath catches in his chest, as he reclines his neck to give you more room to work while his palm flexed against your ass. Welcoming the much needed distraction “We got this, you just need to step back, breathe...regroup and refocus.”
You watch his mouth open in protest and now it’s your turn to shut him up “So, we’re down two models shit sucks, but dwelling on it won’t suddenly make their test results change! So now what’s our next move? Business strategy 101 baby let’s go!“ There’s a blatant challenge within your delivery!
“But I -“
“Jimin. Park!” The grip you hold on the hair at the nape of his neck tightens until you hear him hiss! Eyes fighting to stay open, mouth parting reflectivity. ”Breath, regroup...and refocus...”
He sighs around a moan, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he’s annoyed. Realizing it’s a lost cause because he knows damn well this isn’t a game he can win. “Yes, ma’am” There’s a whole lotta crass laced within that but you’ll take it I guess!
“Thank you!” Responding with the same bitchy little attitude you received! It is the time of year for giving after all! Batting your lashes up in his direction, far too innocent for your attitude! Pressing a couple quick but firm kiss to those pouty lips of his!
“Right, well, in the office, we get various incentives as motivation right? Whether that be gift cards, free dinners, bonuses..” Jimin murmurs right into your mouth, though the topic seems casual his voice is lower, taunting and huskier than usual. “So what’s mine tonight Mrs. Kim Hmm? Breath fanning against your lips, almost able to taste the remnants of liquor and cinnamon on your tongue. “What do I get as an incentive to regroup and refocus?”
Ohhh so now he’s the one challenging you...and your always down to play ....
Reaching over to take a languid sip of your cocktail, finger's trickling down his thighs as you appraise him from over the brim of your glass.
“Well Mr. Park, I'm sure you're very much aware just by looking around the room that one of my main love languages is gifts! Whether that be giving or receiving…..’ Voice dropping down to a purr, and there’s a little smirk playing on your lips that’s speaking volumes, as you shift off his lap....standing between his thighs, placing your drink aside.
“Not to mention it is that time of year after all is it not?” Slowly, tugging the shirt over your head, spine sitting in an exaggerated arch as you do so! Showcasing a matching red bra that’s completely mesh! The faint shadows from your nipples poking through the fabric and Jimin’s breath hitches within his throat! “Time for giving, putting others first, being selfless...the full nine…”
“Yeah” He’s winded already....Tongue darting out to wet his lips, though his throats suddenly what’s feeling painfully dry!
Delicately roaming your hands up your frame. Starting at your waist, slowly venturing up to caress the swell of your breast, dipping over your shoulders. Trickling up the side of your neck, and ending with your fingers tangled within your hair.
“Fucking hell….baby…” He whispers low and thick, almost as if he really wasn’t speaking for you to hear, as if he was just simply enamored!
You hum approvingly, lips curling into a smirk, teasingly trickling your hands down your sides before turning around whipping your hair over your shoulder in the process, swaying towards the obnoxious 10ft tall Christmas tree placed right in front of your wall of windows and Jimin’s mouth runs dry!
“I don’t know if you’ve even noticed all the presents Santa's already left for us this year….I guess we must’ve been exceptionally nice or something!”Pointing to the various wrapped boxes cascaded along the ground and your delivery is far too innocent for the pure chaos your erupting within this room right now!
Jimin’s gaze instantly darkens and it’s straight primal, he wants to unravel you in every sense of the word! Shamelessly he allows himself continue drinking you in from head to toe and god fucking dammit Y/n! Your ass literally looks like it belongs under the tree, the way the lace and ruffles frame the swell of your cheeks, the cute little rhinestone sitting between the exaggerated bow resting right in the center! Let's also not forget the main selling factor again...there crochless..which also means assless.. So in conclusion there's all of like 3 tiny pieces of fabric covering or I guess I should say not covering your ass and It’s just….
Inhaling sharply, biting down on the swell of his lip, soothing a palm up his length which is already straight throbbing beneath his fingers! Idly stroking himself in an attempt to relieve a little tension, which is duly noted because you're already over here doing the most!
Not missing the way you wiggle your ass a little whilst while apparently finding the need to adjust a couple of ornaments. Because of course, that was necessary... “Did your parents ever let you open a gift of two early Jimin?” Peering over your shoulder in feigned curiosity, brow titled in his direction.
“No, which fuckin sucked because I’m really impatient” Jimin already sounds breathless and throaty with pure need, you keep fucking around and he’s going to tackle your ass.
Literally.
A low hum flutters through your chest as you gracefully slide to the floor, right next to said obnoxious tree. Landing on your knees, feet tucked beneath your ass which again looks like a whole ass present at the moment.
Bow and all you're literally sitting right where you belong!
“Come here…” Head lolling to the side, signaling him closer with the flick of a finger “Since you had such a shitty day I’ll let you pick one gift to open early, if I were you’d I’d pick that pick box to the left...I think that’s from yoon.”
Patience is a virtue...one that Jimin does not have.....
#Jimin#Jimin smut#jimin x reader#jimin x you#park jimin#park jimin smut#park jimin x reader#bts#bts smut#bts au#bts poly#bts poly au#kpop#kpop smut#jimin au#park jimin au
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The Rewatch Academy: Episode 3 of Season 1
“Extra Ordinary”
I am in no way a good analyst so my little analysis and speculations probably sound a bit goofy or pretty wild and probably mean nothing at all. Everything I put into this post about each episode is purely what I noticed or thought, whether it's funny or serious. I will be making jokes, so please just leave it at that (in no way am I trying to make fun of an actor and or character!) I am also in no way saying I noticed this stuff first. This is just what I noticed while rewatching these episodes
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1x01 | 1x02 | 1x03 | 1x04 |
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☂ First off I’d like to say that this is one of my favorite episodes of this season. It’s just soooo good
☂ The second comic book in the window features the Televator from the actual comics, so that has to be canon in the show! Also at the time that that second comic came out, Five had already left since we don’t see him on the cover
☂ It’d be cool if they actually printed Vanya’s book for fans to read
☂ Well Diego isn’t wrong when he called Hazel and Cha Cha animals because of their masks
☂ Honestly I feel Vanya’s struggle with chair placement. I’ve fortunately had the luck of playing in all three clarinet chair placements, but 1st chair is challenging. I personally found each placement very fun to play, especially 3rd, and I hope Vanya does too! (why am I talking like she’s real)
☂ Hazel talks about people living ordinary lives, but didn’t he live like that too at one point? How does The Commission recruit people? If they get ordinary people, do they wipe their memories of their previous lives?
☂ “Let’s see’em get out from behind their desks, get their hands dirty for once.” Well Hazel, Five does indeed do this even though he only had a desk job for a day. Still, he got to experience both worlds
☂ My mind is blanking on this, but how did Five get that cut on his arm? Was it from a bullet wound at Gimbel’s?
☂ Five must have a high pain tolerance to stitch his own wound but his bandaid probably wouldn’t stick due to the wet blood he slapped it over. Five sweetie you need a cotton pad and gauze for that one
☂ Wait, you’re telling me that The Umbrella Academy boys’ top uniform consists of a tank top, a white dress shirt, a tie, a sweater vest, and then the blazer? Someone asked Reginald what he wanted for the uniforms and he just said “Yes.”
☂ Five: *puts hands in pockets only to immediately take them out*
☂ Aidan almost sounds like he has an accent when he says “I'm done funding your drug habit.”
☂ Five’s so soft talking to his wife
☂ No Leonard, your bread and butter is being a creep
☂ Also, he thinks wood carving is embarrassing? If someone came up to me and showed me something they carved out of wood I would be so jealous cause it’s such a neat form of art
☂ Leonard saying that he carved wood, and in that case wooden figures, when he was a kid is a slight foreshadow of all of his tampering with his Umbrella Academy figures. He can make wooden figures but he’s also destroyed a handful of the Hargreeves figures
☂ “Never really did like The Beatles.” Well sir you’ve made me dislike you even more
☂ Vanya asking Allison if her siblings wanted her at the family meeting bugs me a bit. I absolutely get that she was literally left out of anything and everything that had to do with her siblings when she was younger, but Allison just asked her to come back home for a family meeting. Allison wouldn't have walked around looking for Vanya only to tell her that they were having a family meeting and that she wasn’t actually invited. Allison is including her in on a family meeting but Vanya is just in a bit of disbelief that she’s being included
☂ Ah yes, the only PTSD flashback for Five we see in the show! He looks so scared when he snaps out of it. I believe it was somehow triggered by the kids (I could be wrong) but do you think Five sometimes panics when he looks at himself in the mirror now since his body is the same age it was when he got stuck? Also it’s very subtle but when Luther opens the door, Five slightly jerks/flinches back. I wish we would see more of this in the show since it’s one of his major traumas
☂ “Does it matter? It’s Klaus.” Ouch! Well Five I hope you know that your siblings are somewhat thinking the same thing since they believe that you’ve lost your mind and are practically an old man crying “Apocalypse!”
☂ Five does an ever so slight huff and smirk when Luther tells him that the meeting at the Academy is important. He finds it a little funny but so frustrating in his mind that Luther doesn’t know what’s truly important
☂ Also I love that Aidan has to turn to the side so that he can keep it together after Klaus talks about his chocolate pudding waxing. Either that or he’s portraying Five as being frustrated and in disbelief. Also this is the first time I’ve noticed that he says “Ay, ay ay...”
☂ “We’re all you have. And you know it.” Oh Luther, you’re failing to see that that’s why he’s acting like this right now. He’s all frantic and crazed about trying to stop the apocalypse so that he can protect and save all that he has
☂ Five certainly is mad at Luther during his mini lecture. He’s clenching his jaw tightly and when he first speaks he hisses out the words through gritted teeth. He even called Luther by his number. He’s very impatient at this point and doesn’t care for Luther’s act of attempting to be a leader
☂ This is their first, and certainly not last, time watching Klaus go by in front of them doing something he shouldn’t be doing
☂ “You haven’t been home in a long time, Vanya.” Sir you were also just on the moon for four years. Yeah Vanya was away for a long time but Grace easily could have changed too during the four years you were gone
☂ How sweet, even though Five hasn’t really been home they want to include him in on the family vote :]
☂ I’ve noticed that in S1 that David really mumbles his lines. A lot
☂ I wish we got more flashbacks of the younger Umbrellas
☂ Diego my beloved mama’s boy ♥️
☂ It’s confusing as to which country TUA takes place in, but it’s really not supposed to be a specific one. It’s portrayed as being in North America, but you can see behind Cha Cha when she gets out of the car at the Academy the flag of the RAF, which Canada would have at a monument since it’s a Commonwealth country. At the same time though Delores came from Gimbels, which was a department store chain across the U.S
☂ The light above Five’s portrait is slightly crooked, which probably means no one has really been paying attention to it
☂ It makes me nervous that Klaus wipes bubbles onto his face. It looks like he got some in his eyes
☂ Ugh I love the whole scene of Hazel and Cha Cha walking around the Academy with “We’re Through” playing
☂ Diego: *has knives but instead chooses to punch and hit Hazel to try to make him let go of Allison”
☂ A rope-a-dope is a boxing tactic of pretending to be trapped against the ropes, goading an opponent to throw tiring ineffective punches. Diego sweetie Hazel wasn’t even trying to get you off of him all he was doing was choking Allison. The only person who got tired was probably you
☂ What’s the point in Diego yelling “Luther, go!” if he’s already going 💀
☂ Luther was there immediately when Hazel attacked Vanya. That means that Luther heard Vanya and was going to go get her to safety
☂ I will never stop signing my praise for the entirety of the “Sinnerman” fight scene(s). It gives me chills every single time. Easily one of the best scenes in all of the show
☂ Klaus must really have his music blasting if he can’t hear the gun shots right next to him
☂ I’ve always wondered if Allison actually registered in her mind that “The boy” is Five when Cha Cha says that’s who they’re looking for. Either she does realize that’s Five, is simply just angry that those two are looking for a boy, or registers in her mind that it’s Five through his superhero codename even though Cha Cha’s not referring to him in that way
☂ Diego is full on just standing in the background watching Allison get beat up by Cha Cha 🕴
☂ I love Diego’s little hand flap when he gets hit in the hand fighting Cha Cha
☂ Okay so I make everything about Five, but the whole Cha Cha fight scene with Allison and then Diego kind of scares me. Cha Cha and Hazel are both amazing assassins (they’re both probably right below Five) and neither Allison nor Diego could stop her by themselves. Could you imagine Five fighting one of his siblings? Especially with his spatial jumps? We already got a glimpse of his true combat skills when he fights Lila in S2. What a scary little old man
☂ “Vanya, get out of here!” Again, wanting to make sure that Vanya is safe and gets away. He even tried to go look for her
☂ Something I don’t really get about the Hazel and Luther fight is why doesn’t Luther just overpower him? Luther has super strength and on top of that he has giant muscles due to the gorilla DNA. Shouldn’t he be able to beat Hazel to a pulp? Maybe we have to consider that Hazel might have been altered by The Commission to be stronger and more durable, but they haven’t mentioned that in the show
☂ “Ah, you gotta cut down on that fast food, soldier.” What are you talking about Diego he literally just got off the moon two days ago aflksjfdk
☂ So Luther was too injured to jump out of the way of the chandelier but was able to push it up off of himself? 🤔
☂ I personally think that Luther’s body design adaptation for the show is really cool and that they gave him the perfect amount of bulk without making him look ridiculous
☂ This has been pointed out before, but cross-stitch foreshadowing, baby
☂ Again, Diego my beloved mama’s boy ♥️
☂ Well at least Diego thought about Vanya dying before thinking about his siblings dying because of her. The latter is ironic!
☂ The clock above Luther’s mirror reads approximately 1:30 am. Hazel and Cha Cha didn’t want to wait until morning
☂ I wonder how different it would be if Five was present at the Academy when Hazel and Cha Cha attacked. He probably would have surrendered himself to them, but it's fun to entertain the idea that he would go apeshit if he knew that they were harming his family in order to find him
☂☂☂☂☂☂☂
Feel free to comment or reblog with things you have noticed too!
#tra#the rewatch academy#tua#the umbrella academy#umbrella academy#luther hargreeves#diego hargreeves#allison hargreeves#klaus hargreeves#number five#five hargreeves#vanya hargreeves#hazel and cha cha
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rockin around the christmas tree
pike jj x reader
you and jj decorate your first apartment together
this is in the future when you and jj are in nashville :)
(warnings: cursing, implied drinking, very very little editing)
At the words, “I’ve never really decorated a tree before,” you knew immediately that you were going to go all out for JJ. You knew his childhood wasn’t great and that he didn’t really experience it in college either with living in the dorm and then the frat house, but you didn’t consider that meant he’d never really done the tree and lights shebang.
Over the month of November you started gathering up random decorations, here and there, that you thought could fit in your apartment without being a nuisance. One afternoon you convinced your mom to drive over from your hometown with some of your favorite ornaments and decorations from childhood.
She loved JJ and was plenty happy to part with them for his sake. You made sure all the bags and boxes were put away in the second bedroom and made a promise with yourself to not tell him until after Thanksgiving.
Then you got slammed with paper after paper and quiz after quiz which led you to truly forget about everything until you went in there to make sure things were all clean for guests and tripped over a box full of lights.
“Ow, fuck!” you yelped, looking down to see what you’d hit, stomach dropping when you saw it all and heard JJ coming to see what was wrong. Before he could quite get to the door, you waved him away, “All good, just stubbed my toe.”
He backed away, hesitantly, toward the kitchen where he’d been cutting the turkey for dinner. Cody and Tyler were coming into town, and you were doubly excited that they were staying the night so that you could rope them into putting up the once forgotten decorations.
Just as you finished pushing everything out of the way and clearing off the bed, there was a knock at the door. JJ called from the kitchen, “Can you grab that, sweetheart, I’m almost done with the turkey?”
“Got it,” you yelled back, practically skipping to throw the door open for your friends you hadn’t seen outside of FaceTime in months. As soon as you threw the door open, Cody, who was closest, was pulling you into a tight hug, face pressed firmly into your hair. He sighed, “Damn, smell the same, kinda nice.”
You snorted, squeezing back, “That was soft.”
“Forgive me,” he answered sarcastically, “I just missed you is all.”
“Move,” Tyler interrupted before you could respond, elbowing Cody out of the way to hug you. You hugged back just as tight before grabbing both of them by the arms to pull them inside.
“JJ is finishing up the food, so I’ll give you guys a tour real quick and you can drop your stuff in the guest bedroom.”
“Sweet,” Cody nodded, “though I’m not sure how I feel about JJ being in control of the food.”
“Let him have it, I need to tell you guys something.”
They followed you around the whole place and ended in the second bedroom where you shut the door, Tyler smirked, “Getting us alone to pitch a foursome?”
You blinked, not prepared at all, “I-” after a few seconds gathered your thoughts, “no, I just wanted to know if you guys needed to be anywhere early tomorrow or if you could help us decorate for Christmas. JJ never has before, so I thought it could be a fun family activity.”
Before you even finished, Cody, who loved Christmas and decorating for it was nodding eagerly, “Oh fuck yeah. I’m so down. Is that why this room is so messy? Christmas decorations.”
You snorted, “Please, I haven’t forgotten how messy y’all are, I spent so much time in that disaster of a dorm room.”
Tyler waved you off, “We’re much better now.”
“I’m sure,” you answered sarcastically.
“I am, my girlfriend whipped me into shape,” Cody told you, “our apartment looks so dope.”
“Yeah, because your girlfriend has her shit together and a Pinterest board.”
Tyler snorted, “True, you have no eye for interior design.”
Cody rolled his eyes as JJ yelled for everyone to come eat. The four of you sat around the small table you and JJ found on sale with plates heaped full of food. Before anyone could take a bite, you cleared your throat, “Okay, everyone share their lists.”
A tradition the four of you started in college was to share at least three things each person was thankful for before eating whatever you’d managed to put together for dinner, usually takeout because no one was thankful for cafeteria food and the shitty dorm kitchen.
“I’ll go first,” Tyler started, “I’m thankful for the Sixers finally playing well, my girlfriend for getting me a new job, and for you guys having a nice enough apartment to play host.”
“Wait wait wait,” JJ held his hand up, “your girlfriend got you a job?”
Tyler shrugged, “I figure if I play my cards right and don’t fuck anything up, when she finishes law school and has a nice job, I can become a trophy husband. I’ll be supportive as fuck and the best arm candy on the planet.”
You snorted and said, “Okay, poor Emma first of all. It’s my turn though. I’m thankful for my therapist, she’s really done a lot of heavy lifting this fall, I’m thankful for JJ not burning the building down while cooking, and I’m thankful for you guys driving to see us because my separation anxiety was getting pretty bad and my poor therapist needs a break.”
Cody gave you a thumbs up, “Live to serve. My turn, I’m thankful for Liverpool sucking ass this season, I’m thankful that my girlfriend is good at everything I’m bad at because I’m pretty sure I’d have died by this point, and I’m thankful that you guys live somewhere interesting enough that I want to come visit.”
“Okay, me last,” JJ started, “I’m thankful for you guys being here even though it was kind of an inconvenient trip, I’m thankful for my boss for giving me a holiday bonus, and I’m thankful to finally get to spend a holiday in my own space. A safe space.”
Cody and Tyler, both great with emotion, held out fists for him to bump and then started eating.
-
“Okay,” you clapped your hands, startling JJ awake the next morning, “it’s noon, we’ve slept off most of the hangover, and now we have shit to do.”
“What?” he asked, voice cracking, as he rubbed his eyes.
“It’s Christmas season, we have to decorate.”
JJ groaned, “Shopping? While I feel like this? No.”
“No need to shop, I have it all. Now get up, get dressed, and let’s do this.”
Tyler was already up when you walked out of the bedroom, and he waved, “I ordered breakfast but couldn’t find your coffee pot. Cody is sorting through the decorations, did you have a tree?”
“Yeah, I have one in the closet, we always did a real tree at home, but I figured we should start small and see how it goes.”
“Good plan. I think Cody has a Christmas playlist ready. He’s so excited, could barely sleep.”
He followed you to the kitchen and leaned against the door frame while you made coffee. You chuckled, “Yeah, I know how much he loves Christmas. I’m honestly kind of surprised we never did a group decorating thing like this before.”
“Well,” Tyler crossed his arms, “we did the small trees in the dorm, but JJ didn’t want to buy one for himself so it didn’t really count. And then decorating the frat house was just not worth the effort.”
You passed him a mug and he took a sip while you answered, “JJ never really seemed super interested either. I mean I was going to keep it chill this year too but he brought it up.”
“Cody said you had a whole bunch of homemade stuff.”
“Yeah, my mom brought it to me. I was thinking of making JJ do some of the ornaments to make it even but I’m not sure he’d go for that.”
Tyler snorted, “Man’s a simp, he’d do it for you.”
“Who’s a simp?” Cody asked, walking into the kitchen to take the second mug.
“All three of you,” you told him, grabbing the creamer out of the fridge for him.
He took a sip and shrugged, “Yeah, true. But who are we discussing in particular now?”
“JJ. Whether he’d made homemade ornaments,” Tyler responded.
“He definitely would,” Cody nodded, “I would too. Is that on today’s agenda?”
“It is not. But I mean, if you guys want to make us some in the future and mail them, I’ll gladly hang them on the tree.”
“Deal.”
“What’s the deal?” JJ asked, finally joining the rest of you.
“Nothing, drink some coffee and we’ll decorate.”
-
After the food arrived and everyone ate, Cody did in fact have a Christmas playlist queued, and he hooked it up to the speaker to blast in the living room. Tyler strung lights around, and JJ told you, “We should just keep these up after Christmas.”
By the time the two of you had struggled to get the tree put together and in a good spot, you added, “Maybe we don’t take the tree down either. We can just decorate it for every holiday.”
Tyler laughed, “Don’t be those guys.”
“We will,” JJ vowed, “we will absolutely be those guys. I just broke a sweat.”
“I will come back for New Years and start a riot if the tree is still up. You laugh like I’m joking, but I will,” Tyler told the two of you.
Cody was barely paying attention, reaching up to put an ornament on the tree when you stopped him, “JJ has to put the first one up.”
JJ gave you a weird look, “What? Why?”
“Bro,” Tyler told you, “lowkey this is a foursome.”
“No, it’s so not.”
“But, it kinda is. We’re taking JJ’s Christmas tree decorating virginity.”
“That’s so-” JJ paused, “okay the logic works a little but I don’t like it.”
“I hate you all,” you groaned, handing JJ an ornament and gently shoving him toward the tree.
“You don’t,” Cody singsonged from his spot across the room.
When everything was done, Cody turned all the lights off in the room and JJ plugged the tree in. Tyler flipped all the lights he’d put out on and the four of you stood in the doorway to take it all in.
JJ sighed, “Kinda love it. It’s going to be such a pain to take down, but it feels good.”
“A good family decorating day,” Cody added, “next year we’ll make ornaments.”
You laughed, “Sure.”
Wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, JJ hummed, “Gonna miss our Christmas this year.”
Tyler looked a little teary eyed, “Yeah, we can FaceTime though.”
“Are you crying?” Cody asked incredulously.
“It’s the hangover,” Tyler denied, wiping his eyes.
Cody rolled his eyes, “Sure it is. I’m gonna miss you guys too.”
“Group hug,” you said, holding your arms out. For the first time in a while and the last time for an even longer while, you hugged your boys close. You sniffled, pulling back, “Bring your girlfriends next time. They’re always welcome too.”
They nodded and left after one more hug. JJ and you sat on the couch, soaking in the sudden silence. You leaned into his side and he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “Movie, sweetheart?”
“Please,” you answered, “Home Alone.”
~
day four of @obxmermaid‘s holiday challenge: decorating the tree
#pike!jj#jj maybank#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank x you#jj maybank fic#outer banks#outer banks fic#obxmermaidholiday#frat!jj
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The Art of Love (Part 8) ~ Steve Rogers x Reader College!AU
A/N: Hello lovelies! Happy Tuesday! I hope that you’re all having a good week! We’ve got a few more parts for this story. And I’m hoping to post on Tuesdays so keep an eye out. And enjoy and take care of yourselves!
Summary: More shenanigans with the idiots in love and sarah and bucky
Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader (Eventual), Bucky Barnes, Sarah Rogers
Rating: K+
Warnings: None. Fluff . Idiots
Word Count: 1250
Divider by: @whimsicalrogers
Main Masterlist | The Art of Love Masterlist | Broken Hearts and Robot Parts Masterlist (Companion Fic)
Bucky nudged Steve as they cleared and washed the dishes.
“They seem to be getting along well,” he nodded towards you and Sarah.
“Yeah, they sure do.”
Steve watched you fondly, letting out a soft sigh when you laughed at the story his mother was telling you. Undoubtedly about him and most definitely embarrassing based on the snort you let out.
“You know you look like a love struck dope right now,” Bucky chuckled.
“Do not,” he huffed, elbowing Bucky out of the way so he could keep washing.
“Oh come on, man. Why don’t you just admit it? You two are practically married.”
“We’re just comfortable around each other. We’re best friends,” Steve argued, rinsing off the last of the plates and wiping down the sink.
“No. We’re best friends.”
“Debatable,” the blonde grumbled.
Bucky scoffed, but otherwise ignored the comment.
“You two are something else. For crying out loud the two of you hosted your mom for dinner.”
Steve lacked a believable retort so he kept his mouth shut.
The truth was, he knew Bucky was right, and although he’d long since admitted his feelings for you to himself. He wasn’t ready to say them to you.
Once the dishes were done, he and Bucky rejoined you and Sarah in the living room.
“All done?” you asked as Steve sat down in the armchair. He was rarely so far away, and you found yourself missing his warmth.
Bucky lounged in the chair and a half with your pack of Oreos.
“Bucky!”
“What?”
“Those are mine for our marathon,” you pouted. “I’ve been waiting to open them all week.”
He paused with a cookie halfway to his mouth.
“The package was half empty.”
You swung your gaze onto Steve, who was looking all kinds of guilty.
“Sorry, sweetheart. I was half asleep after a sudden bout of inspiration the other night. And I kind of ate a couple.”
“A couple?” You quirked an eyebrow at him.
“Okay, a lot. I did already replace them though. And I got you the chocolate cream ones too.”
Your mock glare slipped as you giggled in delight.
“Thanks, Stevie. I guess I forgive you then.”
His shoulders dipped in relief and you laughed at him.
“Does that mean I can eat the rest of these?” Bucky mumbled with his mouth full.
“Oh James,” Sarah admonished fondly.
“Yes,” you chuckled. “Have at it.”
“So, what were you two talking about?” Steve asked as Bucky happily munched on cookies.
“Y/n was telling me how the two of you first met. You never told me that you took ballroom dancing lessons, Steven.” Sarah’s smile was full of mirth.
“It was just one hour a week. I wasn’t very good. Y/n’s the only reason I even made it through.”
“That is not true. You were the best partner a girl good ask for. Once I got steel tipped character shoes,” you teased.
Steve groaned and slid down in his seat.
“I’m kidding. Steve truly was the best. I’d still ask him to be my partner any day of the week. The steps are just part of it. You’ve got to know the other person’s rhythm.”
Steve couldn’t help as his smile widened.
“We have gotten pretty good at that over the years.”
“Yes, we have. It’s something I could only hope for in a partner.”
“Speaking of dancing-”
“Buck,” Steve warned.
“Relax, it’s not about you or your brief foray into hip hop.”
“Excuse me?” Sarah guffawed looking to you for elaboration.
“It was very brief. Like one day brief. He transferred to swing after his first class,” you admitted.
“Oh dear.”
“Smudge,” Steve whined hiding behind a throw pillow.
Unable to bear the sight of him embarrassed, you made your way over to him, plucking the pillow from his hands as you settled on the arm of his chair.
“In his defense, I begged him to take it with me,” you explained to Sarah, carding your fingers through his hair. “It was an intermediate class that I was nervous to take because it was mostly upperclassmen. And Steve was sweet enough to sign up for it with me. Once I realized Natasha was also in the class, I held his oath fulfilled.”
He chuckled at the Lord of the Rings reference as his hand settled on your hip.
“My two left feet are always at your service, milady.”
He took your other hand and pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles.
“I am learning so many new things tonight,” Sarah smiled at the two of you.
Her warm smile kept any feelings of embarrassment at bay.
“Anyways, I have a favor to ask,” Bucky interjected, breaking the pregnant moment.
“Of course. What do you need?”
“The big fundraiser for this semester is going to be a dance-a-thon.”
“Oh that sounds so fun,” you gushed.
“I think it will be.”
“So what do you need from me?”
“The brothers and I thought a fun way to keep the day moving was to teach different dances throughout the night. And since you’re the only one I know knows pretty much all of them…”
“Yes! Of course I’ll help. We can do swing and Lindy and…”
You hopped off the chair to grab a notebook and start writing things down. Bucky joined you at the dining room table, going over ideas and timetables.
Sarah took the opportunity to observe her son. Steve’s eyes never left you as you flitted about, talking animatedly and gesturing wildly. Clearly he was smitten. You both were. Her beloved son just needed to do something about it.
You and Sarah shared a tight hug as she said her goodbyes. She ruffled Bucky’s hair and reminded him to call his mom, before the two of you got back to work.
“Walk me out?”
“Of course, Ma.”
“You know, you really should tell her how you feel,” Sarah said conversationally as he walked her to the door.
Steve’s steps faltered as he looked down at her, wide eyed from shock.
“I’m not in love with Smudge,” he blurted out.
“Oh, darling. Would you like to try that again?”
He sighed, knowing there was no use in lying. He was terrible at it anyway.
“I can’t tell her, Ma.”
“And why not?”
“Because I could lose her.”
“Oh, Steven. There’s no chance of that.”
“But how do you know?”
“Because she is just as in love with you as you are with her. Any fool could see that. And I most certainly did not raise a fool now did I?”
“Of course not, ma’am.”
“Good, then go tell the amazing woman how you feel about her.”
“You really like her?” he asked with a shy smile.
“Of course I do. I’ve been telling you she was the best thing to happen to you for years. Tonight just confirmed it.”
“But what if I end up leaving?”
“Whether you leave or not, you both deserve to know your options.”
She could see the decision rolling around in his head.
“Just think on it. Personally, I think she’d be well worth the effort of long distance.”
“Of course she is,” Steve huffed, insulted his mother would imply he thought otherwise.
“Then what exactly is your argument?”
“I-“
The cab driver leaned on his horn.
“I’ve got to go. Good night, honey.”
She gave him a quick hug and a kiss on the forehead.
“Night, Ma,” he mumbled still stunned by the turn in the conversation.
What was his argument?
A/N: Thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!
Tag List
Update 3/15/2021: Hello, Lovelies. As some of you may have seen on the blog I have decided to suspend tag lists. If you would like to receive updates about new content please follow @naynay-writes and turn on notifications. Thank you! Xoxo, Naynay
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#Steve Rogers x Reader#Steve Rogers x y/n#Steve Rogers x You#Steve Rogers AU#College!AU#College!Steve Rogers#college!steve rogers x reader#The Art of Love#Part 8
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