#if jon could like. actually get drunk

[batfam-stuff-posts-0]

Jon, visibly drunk: So, this is my boyfriend.

Damian: No.

Jon: Scratch that, he's more like a special someone.

Damian: *intense glaring*

Jon: Okay... but we're like, more than friends... we're super close.

Damian: *glaring intensifies*

Jon: I give up! What are we?

Damian: We are married, Jonathan.

[visenyaism]

top ten clinically depressed asoiafers

I don’t think anyone ever wrote out the Westerosi DSM but I’ll take a crack at it.

Honorable Mention- Mance Raider and Qhorin Halfhand. We don’t get enough to make a full conclusion because it’s not important to Jon’s story so this is just a vibe but I feel it strongly.

10. Rhaena the Lesbian- like one of two actually great fire and blood characters. Convalescing in Harrenhal for like a decade after her wife left her and her third husband killed all her girlfriends plus she was one dead kid and one dead mother down. Kind of epic. Should have survived long enough to be weird and bitter to Jaehaerys’ insane children.

9. Daemon Targaryen- hey speaking of killing yourself in Harrenhal. Him never being happy with what he had or knowing what he wanted beyond getting his big brother to be proud of him so he just had to constantly chase dopamine in the form of insane levels of violence grooming teenagers and getting his cop frat brother employees to like him for money. Chemical imbalance with a body count in the thousands for his last midlife crisis wife leaving teenager grooming riverlands murder suicide bender alone.

8. Rhaegar Targaryen- Hey speaking of making your clinical depression everyone else’s problem at Harrenhal leading to the death of thousands. Why do people keep letting them do this is the question. Could estrogen have saved her is the second realer question

7. Lysa Arryn. Free her.

6. Daeron the Drunken- what if you were HAUNTED by PROPHETIC DREAMS that were only BAD and spelled the death and doom of your ENTIRE FAMILY and you COULDNT ESCAPE THEM except through SUBSTANCES and you were also the HEIR and your DAD was so DISAPPOINTED IN YOU and you had to take your RUDE and disrespectful plucky BABY KING ARTHUR brother to the CIRCUS and he was TEN and BALD and picked up by the hedge knight you DREAMED OF because he is going to INSTIGATE TO THE ETERNAL MISERY OF YOUR FAMILY a little bit on accident because you are DRUNK. NO HOPE. also honorable mention to post-fratricide Maekar who just locks himself in summerhall for years and post-treason court hostage Daemon II Blackfyre. I hope he and Daeron got brunch.

5. Ned Stark- classic flavor original variant Father Depression. Things went wrong for him young that he will never explain to anyone ever and they form a veil that serves as a barrier between him and the world and everyone he loves. Poor Ned.

4. Stannis Baratheon. Never let himself enjoy anything ever. Melancholy from birth. Rude and extremely blunt with everyone. Smiles twice both at Davos. Anorexic. Bald. Who among us has not been there.

3. Alannys Harlaw Greyjoy- finding out that Theon and Asha have an alive mom who is a gothic horror attic wife who never recovered from the loss of her family to the point that she’s still asking when all her dead and missing sons are going to come home to her and then Theon comes home and does not visit her. Actually agonizing for me the reader

2. Jon Connington- I’m about to get real sincere with these last two because Dance was a really good book that hit at a pivotal time for me. Everything he is in the world to do is motivated by this deep and profound grief and repression that simultaneously makes him a worse person (hungry to commit war crimes) and his best self (dives into the river to save Tyrion contracting greyscale in the process, being as loving and supportive of a father to Young Griff as anyone really could possibly be in this series.) The fact that he is such a late-game addition but feels like a missing piece as a character because of the emotional weight he carries is really cool. I love all his chapters. Tried to grasp a star overreached and fell is so powerful.

1. Tyrion Lannister- I adore his dance with dragons chapters where after his big moment of patriarchal catharsis he is suicidal and misanthropic and an alcoholic and hurting himself and others. It is really compelling because sometimes people get worse. And yet this is interspersed with moments where he is confronted with real genuine danger or real genuine joy and he consistently chooses to be kind to others for no material gain. Like comforting Penny during the storm or tackling a Stone Man into the Rhoyne to to save Young Griff’s life. Arguably these moments do not outweigh all of the harm he is actively inflicting, but they do show that he is incorrect about his self concept that he’s a monster and is actually just a deeply hurt person who has been traumatized so profoundly and is struggling as a result of it.

[no-144444]

start at the beginning, shall we?

summary: how your business endeavour started

pairing: fakeboyfriend! lando norris x fem! fakegirlfriend! actress! reader

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“Do you know who Lando Norris is, by any chance?” he smiled, but it was one of those calculated smiles. The kind that would’ve made anyone in their right mind end the business meeting right then and there. 

Sadly, you were anything but in the right frame of mind. Months and months of pitching your film to producers, and getting handed an offer for a role instead of a yes, or flat-out rejection meant that you had enough work to keep you employed until 2045. But it wasn’t what you wanted. You became an actor because you needed a way to make your short films. You’d been picked up by an agent, and yes, you were successful. You were an Academy-Award nominee. You had three BAFTAs. You had two Emmys. You had a Golden Globe. 

But it was all for acting. Nothing to do with script-writing, or directing, or editing. The things you actually gave a shit about seemed to never be the things people wanted you for. It was always a lead role, which, don’t get me wrong, it was great, but it wasn’t what you wanted. 

“He’s an F1 driver?” you shrugged. “Right?”

You hated the way he looked at you after that, but you were desperate. You needed to create your own production company. You needed to prove to the world and to yourself that your work meant something. Anyone could act. It took a certain person to make a movie. And you wanted to be that person. 

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If a man without ambition is dead, Lanod Norris was 6 feet under. 

You scoffed at his various friends that were too busy eyeing you up to realise that you could see the drool coming from their mouths. “Dickheads,” you whispered to yourself. 

Monté Carlo. Warm weather, money flowing like waterfalls, superyachts the size of mansions, and rich frat boys. Lando was one of them. He was playing pool, a G&T in his hand as he laughed with his friends. So much for meeting him. He was supposed to be your boyfriend, well, fake boyfriend. He was slightly insufferable though. His friends were sleazy (apart from Max), he was already drunk when you arrived, and he made barely any effort to speak to you at all. You were debating going home when a guy named Keegan sat beside you and introduced himself. 

“I’m Keegan,” he smiled, a thick American accent on his lips. 

You shook his hand and leaned in to shout over the music. “Y/n Y/l/n,” you smiled. 

“Dude, I know who you are,” he chuckled. “I’d be crazy not to.” 

“I know who you are,” you smiled. “You’re the skateboarder, right?” 

He nodded, a sense of pride blossoming in his chest. “What brings you here?”

“Lando,” you admitted. “We’ve been… seeing each other for a little while.” 

Keegan raised an eyebrow. “Is it… open, or something?” he questioned and you rolled your eyes. Who would it hurt if you told Keegan? Surely no one would mind. 

“He’s not actually my boyfriend,” you explained. “It’s a publicity thing.”

Keegan nodded, understanding. “Oh shit,” he laughed. “All that whoring out finally got him in trouble, huh?”

“I guess,” you shrugged. Keegan was nice, sweet, the kind of guy you’d introduce to your little sister. Plus he had that whole beach-guy aesthetic so he would actually be perfect for her. But tonight was meant to be about Lando and getting to know him. “What’s he like?” you questioned. 

Keegan sighed. “He’s… he’s a good guy most of the time. Solid friend. Probably parties too much. But he’s really sensitive. He gets in his own head about shit and can’t get out until someone pulls him out. Usually Max, sometimes it’s Will, sometimes it’s me. Maybe it’s his trainer, Jon, or maybe it’s Zak. Sometimes none of us can do anything and we have to call his parents,” he shrugged, explaining it like it was the most regular thing in the world. 

You nodded, trying to forget that information. It felt… intimate. Like the kind of thing he should’ve told you himself. You ignored the guilt brewing in your mind and continued on. “What’re his parents' names?”

Keegan chuckled. “You really know nothing about him, don’t you?” he laughed when you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help but crack a smile. “Adam and Cisca. His siblings' names are Oliver, Florence, and Cisca, in case you need to know that too.” 

“Thank you very much,” you smiled. “Though I could’ve survived without the sass.”

He held up his hands in mock surrender. “No one said I had to help you!” he laughed. 

You laughed too. He was sweet. Definitely your favourite of his friends. 

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“Hi,” you smiled at Lando, but he could tell it was forced. “I’m heading out.”

He frowned. “So soon?” he questioned, a hand around your waist as he noticed the various phones held up behind you. “The nights barely begun,” he whispered, smirking into your neck. 

“We’re not going public until May,” you gritted out, but he just smirked. 

“Scared of what people will say?” he smirked. 

You didn’t respond immediately. You just stared at him for a moment. “Embarrassed about being seen with you, actually.” There she was. The quick banter. You were back. 

He chuckled and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Alright then, see you at the photoshoot,” he smirked as he waved you off. 

That photoshoot was going to be the death of you, you knew it. 

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[jellyfishsthings]

WARNINGS: reader is a Velaryon with some Targaryen features but not an OC, this is just some story building there will be other parts. I just finished the books and I am obsessed with GOT wither way I was bored and this is the result so beware ... I think that's it. Also Theon is a pookie in this fic because I said so

PAIRING: fem!reader x Robb Stark (romantically), fem!reader x Jon Snow (platonically), fem!reader x Theon Greyjoy (platonically)

part 2 , part 3, part 4

The cold wind still raged on, hitting the walls of Winterfell. Her room was one on the lower floors next to Jon's and Theon's rooms. The sunrays gently fell on her sleeping figure dragging her from her deep slumber. The fireplace was filled with ashes and the chill in her bones was reasonable. It might still be summer on the North, yet the occasional snow always drifted down from the dark grey clouds. A discreet knock pulled her out of her thoughts and Theon's irritated voice filled the room.

"If you are not in the courtyard in two minutes, I am ratting you out"

Like clock work the same words sounded the moment dawn greeted the North. It was a small routine they had formed two namedays ago. She covered herself in Robb's old furs, the ones he secretly gave to her and claimed he lost them. They had kept her warm for over six moon cycles, they had holes in several places and the edges were coming apart but it was her most prized possession. At first it smelled at him and she was always trying to bask in his scent, that was until Theon caught her smelling the neckline while wearing it and she wouldn't hear the end of it until she openly caught him staring longingly at Sansa.

Unfortunately, they were both in the same position, they wanted people they could never have, and only each other knew. They would drink together glasses of wine and they would stumble giggling around the castle. One time he had drunk so much that he composed atrocious poetry about the beauty of his lady Sansa and her copper hair and then about the Northern prince that fell in love with a girl that had mud brown hair adorned with streaks of silver grey and deep violet eyes that appeared dark blue in the right light. She knew that her appearance betrayed her ancestry the Targaryen blood that flowed in her Velaryon veins.

Her family had been brutally murdered, she had heard and read the tales of how her mother gave her life to protect her dark-haired girl and the bloody necklace that hugged her fathers throat. At the tender age of seven moon cycles her whole family had perished and she had been the only survivor. Ned Stark had found her in a bundle of fabrics crying her heart out and once he saw the sword that could have taken her head, he swore to protect her and take her in as his ward. She should have been grateful, she knew as much, he had given her everything, a warm house, plenty food, clothes and a loving family one she wasn't actually a part of and maybe that was the reason she was closer with Theon and Jon, the outsiders. It wasn't like she didn't like the Starks, she loved them to bits and yet she could never be one of them. She would be the squire under their Maesters care with her nose hidden in ancient books and scrolls, lost in maps and various languages and basic training as a healer. But her new passion was sword fighting. As a woman she had only been allowed to practice archery that she was quite good at and always betted with the boys around their performance.

And that was how Theon found himself at incredibly early hours with a wooden sword in his hand, frowning at drawings of fighting styles freezing his "balls" off. She had bested him at the fine art of combat at practically her fifth lesson in a few hits. She had a strategic mind and she was quick on her feet, the most perfect and most deadly combination that existed.

He pitted the man that would take her as his wife, because most men were incredibly controlling but there was no chance, she wouldn't get things her way. He was proof enough.

She had the three of them wrapped around her little finger from all those years back. She had grown up with them from when she was a babe, but at her seventh nameday her and the Maester left, since she was his squire, she had to follow him, he had taken her under his wing, she had practically been his daughter, the one he never had. At that day and several later they had cried so much that even Lady Stark was regretting her decision, she liked the girl enough, she had the tendency to wreak havoc and get lost in her books a bit too much, neglecting her chores and her lessons at needlepoint half the time, but she made her kids happy and she was too smart and witty for her own good that it was impossible not to have a sweet spot for the orphaned girl. She had been overjoyed when she learned about her return nine namedays afterwards. Her son, her calm and collected Robb was shuffling at his feet, nudging rocks around and toying with the hem of his cloak, the bastard and the Greyjoy ward were portraying similar behaviors and she had to control herself not to laugh at their antics.

Ned had pushed his son forth, claiming that it was around time he greeted their guests, he shot him a glare and his parented watched him as he wiped down his palms at his breeches and headed towards the carriage, his hand shook as he lightly grazed the handle and pulled the door open while staring into place, not ready to accept that his best friend might have changed. He was frozen in his place as a girl wearing a dark blue dress and heeled leather boots stood before him. She tilted her head to the right and only then did he notice her hair.

A knot at the back of her head that was a swirl of chocolate brown and silver white strands that framed her face beautifully. Her violet eyes hid a familiar mischief that he had dearly missed. She nodded at him, before facing his father and dropping into an elegant curtesy. It was as if he was on a trance, unable to tear his eyes from her form. It wasn't until he heard her voice, she was speaking in a language he didn't understand, yet he could recognize the bite on her tone. His father wore an amused smile as he answered her back. He would learn at the evening feast what had caused such reactions, the news almost swept him from his feet, his whole existence reduced to one word. Betrothed. Ever since then it was like they were walking on eggshells around her. All three of them longed for their missing link.

It wasn't until a few days latter when they invited her on a hunt that they could glimpse on what they were. They had found a boar and his in bushes only to lose their horses in the process. They had been walking for hours and all it took was an ill-fated joke from Jon.

"No. I do not love you. Of course I lied to you. Yes, it does make you look fat. No, I have never been in the Riverlands. It is pronounced Eyrie. And all of this pales to utter insignificance if we are to let ourselves be food for the hounds."

They had all been tired and snappy, making comments left and right and picking fun at her the way they used to. They had been waiting quite impatiently for her to snap back and the moment she did, loud laughter echoed in the woods. And just like that everything was back to the way it used to be.

Ever since then life seemed dreamy to Robb, he had his friends and his family all getting along and everything seemed perfect. But reality hit him hard each night knowing that the girl he fostered feelings for was promised to another.

[sarahcmarie]

People always look up to the bats whether they are civilians or hero’s themselves but they don’t know all of the batshit (ha) crazy or stupid things they do

Bruce is one of the most guilty of this but only his kids know it Especially Tim and dick who has seen trip on his cape more than once tim once saw Bruce get a concussion only for Bruce to try (and fail) to convince Tim he was fine

But that doesn’t mean the other kids don’t share this trait

Dick is the hero that other hero’s look up to that being said this man has done some pretty stupid shit including but not limited to getting shot and not telling anyone because he “didn’t think it was that big of a deal”

When dick was a teenager he got into a argument with Bruce and decided the best course of action was to steal Bruce’s car with Roy and do donuts in a abandoned parking lot at two in the morning which led to them crashing it on accident

He and Jason once got into an argument and didn’t talk for almost a week everybody assumed it had to have been something horrible but in all actuality they got into an argument over what house dick would be in if he were in Harry Potter

Jason will never say it but he’s a bat through and through which comes with doing the stupid shit the bats do

Jason although will never admit it but he saw dick do a trick over patrol and thought it was the coolest thing ever and attempted it himself and sprained his ankle

One time Jason and Roy got so drunk they sang the entire sound track to frozen one and two and lost their voices because of it only Kory knows this

Tim is a special case because he was raised by Janet drake so he knows how to put up a very convincing façade but he has his moments just like the rest of the family

He once went so long without sleep he had an entire conversation with a wall thinking it was Bruce

Tim had forgotten about family movie night and so he had gotten really high with YJ but by the time he remembered it was to late and he was so high he could hear colors nobody ever found out how high Tim was but trying to keep his family from figuring out that he was high was more scary then any rouge Tim had ever faced

Damian was raised by the league of assassins flaws were trained out of him… that being said he is his fathers son which means he had his moments just like the rest of the family

He once spent an entire conversation (rant) with Jon in Arabic until jon sheepishly reminded him he didn’t speak that language and asked him to repeat it English

Despite everything Damian is still totally convinced he could beat Superman in a fight if he had to without any help

Point being the bats are some of the smartest idiots in the world

[dipperscavern]

hey!!! i’m mean jon anon (https://www.tumblr.com/dipperscavern/756299449931825152/post-resurrection-jon-snow-fucks-mean-mean-in-a) reporting with new thoughts!!!!

jon snow is an ass man, he just is. i don’t make the rules (… or do i?) if anyone asks him what is his favorite part about you, he will probably say your smile or your eyes or your passionate and strong personality…. even when he drunkenly slurs to you how much he loves that bum…

and it is kinda cute!!! when he stands behind you, his hand on your hip is dangerously close to your ass cheek, but not on it!!! he does absolutely not touch your ass in public, like bitch please he is a gentleman. a quick peck on the lips and a little pat on the ass.

but it’s his own punishment, he is polite and well spoken, he loves you and worships the ground you walk on…. if someone looks at you too much, touches you, flirts with you. he can’t be mean in public, he can’t bark them away from you. he is the king in the north goddamnit, if he wanted, he could have a messy fluid-disgusting make out session with you while grabbing and squeezing your ass and no one would dare to object, but his own morals and ideas of what is proper are digging his own grave.

so he just stares, and clench his fist. a little frown on his face, he is clearly discontent. and will complain later (possessive jon will be extended later….)

SO… he fucks you from behind, one side of your face on the mattress hips in the air. drunk in the view of your ass cheeks bouncing against his hips. clap clap clap fills the room with your whines and he really can’t help himself when his hands grab your cheeks, opening up for him to have the whole view.

pretty pussy drooling on him, little puckered hole winking. so inviting. he pushed his body on you, until his back is on your back, fully weight on you. your mind blurry by his big body and warm against you. his lips leaving kisses on your shoulder, with his left hand still on your globe and the other cupping your jaw, with his thumb making his way into your mouth without much a problem. he lets out a groan when you start sucking, so eager and dirty. with his finger alllllllll wet, he goes back to his initial position (of course, after leaving a quick kiss on your temple). spanks your ass with his left hand, making sure you are still open for him. enjoying your little jump. his right hand with his wet thumb, pressing so gentle against your tight hole.

you let out a gasp, clenching the sheets between your fists. jon you call out, on surprise. a humming noise is your response, his way of telling you he is listening, for you to go on. his thrusts are deep and slow now, making sure it’s not too much for his sweet girl. please you continue. you don’t even know what you are pleading for. faster? stop? more? jon still has his thumb in your hole, still thrusting. he knows what you want. but he’s going to make you say it (so mean :( ) please what, darling? and his thumb slowly entering makes you gasp louder for please, please i need it please- so bad- but he is not letting go so easy oh love, what do you need? want it faster or need this pretty hole fucked by my cock too? oh gods he is dirty mouthed when he gets like this, this side so brutally needy and rough to own all of you (like he doesn’t already own your soul). but even in your ditzy mind state you want to make the beast in him growl. in your whiny fucked-dumb voice you finally said any- please- fuck any of them- i’m yours. by the end of that night, you confirm your theory. jon snow is a gentleman but he fucks you like a mean man. dirty and disgusting. stuffs all of your holes and makes you say over and over again anything he wants.

ps.: i didn’t find anything in your blog that said something against anal, so if you aren’t into it i’m sorry 😭😭😭 ignore that part…

Hey so i actually need you to become a writer right now haha no biggie lol i’m only going a little insane

i’m not even an anal gal like that but… i’d do it. THE ACCURACY IN WHICH U POTRAY HIM HAS ME SHOOK. JON SNOW IS AN ASS MAN. the kiss on your temple his back draped over yours him humming letting u know he’s listening…. i’m so sorry i don’t have much to add you’ve rendered me speechless i’m just leaving this here haha (i need to be cas-evaced by helicopter)

[on-the-clear-blue]

Even though I know Bruce would have a brain aneurism at the mere thought of it because "what part of no identifying features do you not understand" I am thinking about the batfam and body art (tattoos, piercings and the such)

Alfred: you would think that this man is a proper British gentleman! But no, this man fought in wars and was a thespian, he would be tatted from wrist to collar bone in the style of wherever he was stationed during the war and likely with his battalions nickname somewhere. (Thomas and Martha both enjoyed kissing each one while they-...thats another post entirely)

Bruce: While he now thinks that they are horrible mistakes and had spent so much money seamlessly removing them from his body, Bruce was a party boy in the early 80s through the 2ks, that man got a tribalism tramp stamp, he had a butterfly/dolphin ankle tattoo, he got a Disney character doing a sexy pose on his back, and it pains him incredibly that he has to apply fake tattoos whenever Brucie needs to be seen somewhat unclothed (the only actually body modification that he has is scarification of the dates when he met all of his children) also likely had gages at some point but spent a lot of money to get his ears to a more natural point noe

Dick: so from brief research, (I am in no means an expert) Romani people don't tend to do tattoos, but as they are not a monolith and have many different groups among the Romani, I am going to have it that Dick gets at most his ears pierced? Maybe with some thst look similar to his mother's? Though I can see him being into henna, and getting it done on special occasions

Jason: Before getting picked up by batman this sweet boy ran in the streets and likely joined a gang at some point for protection? I can see some messily done, likely infected stick and poke of a skull or whatever some edgy gang leader chose as his "brand" to put on the street rats, but post dunk in the angriest lime jello? That little thing is gone, and after being a mob boss? I think Jason has a few tattoos, more than a few piercings, (I hc Jason as Hispanic, and we do have a tradition of getting piercings at a young age, though I think Jason would have lost the small diamond studs his momma saved up for to buy for him) he has at least one stylized cross somewhere on his body

Cass: I feel like she would like the idea tattoos, and would be an absolute trooper and not even flinching at the most painful places to get a needle jabbed repeatability into her skin, but wouldn't like the fact she can't change it, the same going for piercings, so I can see much more clip on stuff and temp tattoos!

Tim: "My body is a temple." Which is a filthy lie he tells the others. This man got Kon to do his piercings. Tim has nipple piercings and nobody finds out until the most unfortunate timing, likely involving an MRI and a lot of explaining to do why his nipples are bleeding.

Duke: This dork, this utter "Um actually 🤓☝️" Looking goober got a singular ear pierced once before he became Signal and cried, yeah maybe he could handle the pain now, but will he ever? Maybe later down the line...much much later.

Damian: isn't allowed to get any yet, wants to get anime weeb tattoos, "Tt, the League has trained me to withstand long sessions of torture, this would be nothing" he gets the names of his pets in a "no regurts" situation when he is 16, drunk and with Jon, thankfully he is able to hide it for a few months before Bruce finds it and is found later hunting down Jon.

Bonus

Babs: I see her as a sunflower kinda gall, has a sleeve of them (its actually a cover up because she used to have one of those super cringe, deathly hollows that flows into a mocking jay and a supernatural tattoo) used to have ear piercings but got rid of them after a particularly bad rogue tried to rip them out.

Steph: she has a nose stud and a tongue piercing, was totally there when Tim got his nips done, voted for him to get tassels, probably thinks tattoos are cool, but can't trust anyone to do it because she has been to nursing school long enough to know to say "fuck that shit"

Kate: similar to Alfred, got hot military tats, though followed after Bruce and removed most of them.

[delayeddrabbles]

eat the rich - college gf + frat!rafe

A/N: while i know reader/YN ships are more popular, I want to try this as a named OC and see how much traction it gets. Shout out to @lolasangelz for writing Gigi so well that it gave me the confidence to turn Nat back into an OC rather than write her as a reader.

headcanons:

This is set loosely in s3, Rose makes Rafe go back to Chapel Hill to finish his Commerce degree before she'll let him come back to Cameron Development. The pair of them are still fighting over the company after Ward's death.

Nat stumbles into Rafe's room drunk during a party, mistaking it for her best friend's. She then judges him on how barren and lifeless his decor is and he kicks her out, not in the mood for chit chat.

Nat is studying a PPE so they share an Economics class. For someone so reckless with money, Rafe is surprisingly good at it. They become study partners.

They didn't plan on becoming a couple. What started as a quick blow job in the library to clear Nat's head during midterms quickly became an actual friendship.

Nat had been with her ex for a long time and so she was supposed to be in her slut era when she met Rafe.

Nat is trying to date again, but Rafe somehow always gets in the way. He waltzes into her living room with the spare key when she's making out, or he'll call her for a ride home when she's out for a drink.

They're sneaking around the frat house so her ex Jon doesn't find out.

Nat forces Rafe to go hiking even though he hates the outdoors.

Nat complains about the spoiled rich kids who come to the gym she works at, forgetting who it is she's talking to. Rafe offers to just pay her to be his PT so she can quit, but she refuses.

They have a running joke of sending each other terrible songs that could soundtrack the situation. Rafe looks miserable at a party and Nat will send him I Hate it Here by Taylor Swift and revel in the sigh it produces. Leave by JoJo somehow becomes code for ditching an event and hooking up.

Nat and Barry get on like a house on fire and Rafe hates it.

Rafe's mom died of breast cancer. Nat's mom is in the army and was away a lot.

Rafe is always making sure she gets enough sleep and stops working to rest or have fun. Nat is always making sure he eats properly and meets his deadlines.

Nat is fully comfortable admitting he's hot, but not that she worries and cares about him. Rafe is the opposite, he'll happily make her a cup of tea or let her sleep over, but will get stubborn when it comes to admitting she has any kind of power over him. Despite this, he's always the needy, touchy one with a finger subconsciously tracing the outlines of her tattoos, regardless of where they are on her body.

Rafe makes fun of Nat for playing Mahjong at the old folk's home.

Nat and her bff Aden make fun of Rafe for being the most stereotypical frat boy finance guy type they've ever met

Both of them are always getting into fights and having to be extracted by the other.

Rafe avoids talking about money and politics, not wanting any conflict. Meanwhile, Nat is dragging him to picket lines and protests, and people complain that he's too tall in the crowd.

Rafe will turn any political debate she tries to start with him into a dirty joke or play devil's advocate. He likes to remind her that she's a hypocrit for sleeping with him and watch it piss her off.

Both of them are loners. Nat doesn't have a lot of friends her own age, and Rafe has only just gotten back to Chapel Hill and hasn't retained any old friendships.

Nat won't touch anything stronger than tobacco and alcohol. Growing up around her brothers' older friends on the barracks who partied way too hard and struggled with combat PTSD has made her overprotective of her brain chemistry.

Nat is one of the first people in his life to have ever bought him an extravagant, expensive gift. Usually, that's his job, but she works extra shifts and saves up to replace his watch that got stolen.

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 45

part 1 | part 44 | ao3

Nancy, Jonathan, and some guy with the longest hair Steve's ever seen are standing in a loose circle with Eddie and his bandmates, talking and sort of dance-nodding along to The Power of Love by Huey Lewis (a fact that Steve absolutely intends to mock his boyfriend for the second he gets the chance), and Steve, like, mentally girds his loins.

He and Jon are cool with each other, and he and Eddie are obviously, uh, plenty warmed up to one another by now, but the rest of them...

One's a stranger, one's an ex who seems drunk as shit and is currently so invested in spinning around to the music that she hasn't opened her eyes to notice him, and the other three are thawing to him at a truly glacial pace. Steve hasn't so much as been invited to watch a rehearsal yet because Eddie's 'still working on them' and needs 'a bit more time, but don't worry, they'll come around.'

They don't openly scowl when he and Robin approach, though, so Steve takes that as a win.

"Harrington!" Eddie calls, bowing deeply to add, "Lady Buckley."

Steve would feel stung by the surname if not for how downright giddy Eddie sounds. God, he loves tipsy Eddie; fucking Disney cartoon boy.

"Munson," he plays along, giving him a sly grin and a shoulder bump as he sidles up next to him. "Didn't know you were allowed to leave the basement at these things."

Jeff interrupts his air-guitaring to glare at Steve, bur Eddie holds out a hand and assures him that Steve's just fucking around. Before Steve can apologize or defend himself, Long Hair Guy leans in across the circle, his eyes wide and intense and bloodshot to hell.

"Dude," he greets. "You have. Such beautiful hair."

Steve barks a laugh. Robin rolls her eyes. Jonathan also rolls his eyes, but it seems more fond and less annoyed. "Can't take you anywhere," he mutters to the guy, then asks them, "You guys met Argyle yet?"

Steve holds out a hand. Confusion washes over him as he processes what Jonathan just said. "Uh." Argyle. "Like the sweater?"

"Yeah, man," Argyle smiles, dopey and slow. Sure. The guy in head-to-toe tie-dye and a neon green fanny pack is named Argyle. Why not? "My parents wanted a sheep, but they got me, instead."

Jonathan laughs like it's the funniest joke he's ever heard. Steve's pretty sure he's too sober for this conversation.

They exchange handshakes, and Robin asks if she can touch the guy's hair, and they all slip into easy, friendly conversation, naturally splintering into smaller groups of twos and threes. Steve's just getting the rundown on all the 'sick new gear' the band got for Christmas when the song changes, and god, this night just could not get better.

"Oh, fuck off!" Eddie groans in the DJ's direction.

Steve has to practically swallow his lips to keep himself from cackling, and then he gives up and does it, anyway, because Eddie looks like he just sucked a lemon while watching a dog die as his bandmates all start sing-shouting along. "We're talking away..."

"No." Eddie wheels around and points a finger at Steve, because Steve's singing, too.

Steve just sings louder. "I don't know what, I'm to say!"

"Oh, my god." He scrubs a hand down his face, dragging the skin down until Steve can see the pale pink of his inner eyelid. "Nobody I know has any goddamn taste!"

"Maybe you don't have any taste!" Robin teases, bouncing around and swinging her arms haphazardly to the music.

Nancy backs her up with a mumbled "Yeah!" but she's still spinning around in such tight circles that Steve doubts she has a single clue what's happening in the argument right now. Which is kind of endearing, actually. He likes how willing she is to stick up for people.

The chorus kicks in; Gareth air-drums the switch to half time just before Frank does an honestly super impressive falsetto of 'in a day or twoooooo', and Eddie despairs while Steve laughs his fucking head off.

—

part 46

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[trappolia]

JONATHAN SIMS ── i have loved you for the last time

Sleep does not come easy to Jon anymore.

There is so much for the Archivist to consume and so little of what is actually him that is left. The hunger is a plague that takes on a non-linear narrative in the miserable plot of his life. It eats at the crevices of his mind from the inside out so he can think of nothing but everything and the absence in the space between all at once; then at his tongue, the flat of it dry and coarse (When was the last time he had drunk something to hydrate himself? Does he even still need it?), and his throat, so when he tries to speak, all that comes out is a weak croak. He thinks the hunger has taken root deep in his marrow as well── he feels it creeping in his bones, the rot spreading to his bloodstream slowly but surely.

You stir beside him, and Jon thinks: Alas, at least his heart is safe.

It had been a long time since his dreary heart was nestled in the weak cage of his ribs, beating feebly to sustain a body that, in truth, lives for very little. Jon does not know when or how, but somewhere along the lines since you'd slipped into his narrative through the margins of his hasty notes, he'd found that you had come into possession of his heart. The wicked thing was cradled in your hands like the most precious of treasures even as you slept by his side, squeezed into the little twin bed.

You inhabit the side closest to the wall, a fact which contents Jon── for all the horrors you have subjected yourself to by staying at his side, he will be there as the first line of defence. In a more mundane sense, you've crafted your home in a home within this little nook, curled up beside Jon's thin frame. He sees you now, illuminated by the painful white of his screen, and Jon feels sorry for potentially ruining your quality of sleep, but there is so much work── always work and no play for the Archivist son, damned as he is by whatever is going on in his institute. At the very least, he comforts himself, you will sleep better than he ever will.

Jon takes a deep breath, steeling himself; as if with a mere lift of his shoulders, he can resemble a man who, at the very least, seemed to have some idea of how he could get himself out of this hole he has found himself in, but if you had been awake, you could have easily seen the truth behind the facade, that of his discomfort and, and most damningly, the unsureness he held within himself, of himself. Despite this, he brushes his fingers over the curve of your cheekbone and leans close to press his dry lips against your temple, before going back to work── reminding himself every now and then of who he is doing this all for.

In spite of it all, his unsureness and his fondness for you, Jon does leave you in the end ── not for the lack of love, no; that love remains even when he changed, twisted into more than a simple avatar of the Eye instead of the man who had left you cold in your bed with his goodbyes written in ink on a parchment nearby. He understands, even in the end of all things, that he was selfish to have left you before things truly took a turn for the worst (though one could argue that it had already been set in motion the moment he picked up A Guest For Mister Spider)── there is selfishness even in the thought that he left while still human, that your final memory of him before he took an exit from your life was not the him that saved the world this version of you lived in, alone and betrayed and confused.

And when Jon begins to Know, he Knows that you never get rid of the belongings he'd left deserted about in your home, as though he has just recently left and is to certainly return any day now. He Knows that you never do stop waiting for him ── whether it is in the Fearscape you were trapped in or in the world thereafter, the world without your Jonathan Sims.

Life hereafter moves along, but for you, it feels as though it has paused in that singular moment that always passes, in another space and time, as though the clock in your living room will tick once again, and Jon will walk through your door as he always has. He Knows this, and he wishes he could tell you, but the last thing left of him in that world is the heart you don't realise you still possess, that you've never lost── Jon sits there and waits with you in that moment that will never come to pass, and you will never truly come to terms with the fact that the rest of him will never be able to come home to you again.

© trappolia 2024

[msbigredmachine]

WIP Wednesday - You Again (Roman Reigns/OC)

A/N: Thanks to @empressdede for the tag! I appreciate it! I know it's Thursday not Wednesday lol, sorry I'm late!

---------------------

His familiar scent reached her nose, triggering memories of the years he had tortured her in school. Fuck, he still smelled the same. She stiffened at the reminder, fighting her body's response to his closeness. She had very little room to move seated the way she was, but she tried to put a few inches between their bodies.

His hard chest. His big hands encircling her upper arms, holding her in place, trapping her against his body.

Her breath caught, torn between crying out for help and giving in to the heavy arousal that flooded her body. 

She felt his mouth close to her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. "Evie," he breathed. Joe's low, raspy voice uttering her name set off flutters throughout her tummy and heat spread throughout her body. Her skin broke out into goosebumps and her nipples hardened into sharp little points. Despite her body's involuntary response, she held herself rigidly, staring straight ahead, giving no indication she'd heard anything.

Joe chuckled softly at her refusal to look at or acknowledge him. His warm breath tickled her ear and her hardened nipples chafed against the lace of her bra almost painfully. "I thought I was imagining things," he said in that velvety soft tone. "But no. I'd know that beautiful face anywhere.”

“Oh look, here comes the leader of N’Stink.” She rolled her eyes.

“Leader of what?” he laughed. She didn't see what was so funny.

“That was my name for you and the evil twins. Jon and Josh.”

“Who knew little Evie Ashton was so creative.”

“I’m not ‘Evie’ anymore. I go by Evelyn now. This ain’t high school anymore.” She dared to look up at him this time, and hated that he was as gorgeous as ever, and was still able to effortlessly awaken her body with just one look, just his proximity. It reminded her how, as a teen, she had been so confused and embarrassed by the way she simultaneously loathed him and desired him. She sucked in a breath as his lower body now flush against her. She let out a small gasp as she became aware of a sizable hardness prodding into her ass. His mouth was by her ear again. 

"This is the other reason I knew it was you." He rocked into her, letting her feel the length of his impressive erection. "All you had to do was come near me and you had me so hard I wanted to beg you just for a taste of your sweet pussy."

What? 

She did turn around this time, eyes wide. “What are you talking about?”

“You have no damn idea how much I wanted you, Evie.”

“You’re fuckin lying.”

He shook his head. “I'm not. You feel that, don’t you?”

She clenched her thighs together, feeling a rush of warmth between her legs at his words. She opened her mouth to tell him to get the fuck away from her, but all that came out was a whimper.

His hands moved from where they held her arms in place down to her hips. She glanced down, seeing his strong, tanned hands grasping her. Lust coursed through her, drugging her into docility. The same thing kept happening back in high school - even when she was furious at him, he'd affected her so strongly on a physical level that she felt almost drunk when she was around him. What was worse, he was the first and only boy who had turned her on like that without even lifting a finger. Not even Chuka, her fiancé, ever set her body on fire like this, despite his impressive attempts.

As a teenager, she would imagine, at night, alone in her bed, herself with Joe, what it might feel like, the heights he might take her to, if he actually tried to bed her…

Her fantasies didn't even come close to the electricity his touch sent jolting through her body.

She held herself still, barely managing to breathe, as his bulge seared into her bottom. She was flushed from head to toe, and as she squeezed her thighs together to relieve the ache there, she could feel herself gushing into her panties. Mindlessly, she pressed back into him just the smallest bit.

In response, his hands moved around to cup her ass, gently spreading her cheeks so he could nestle his iron-hard cock between them. She tried to remember that she hated this man, that he'd made her life miserable for three years, and she never even knew why. But her body had taken over, her aroused state freezing her in place.

Encouraged by her complacency, Joe ground into her, his steel length feeling like it was branding her through her short dress. She panted, air coming in short bursts, as she pressed back into his groin…

-------------------

This is not finished at all and just a little excerpt, I hope you like it! I will be posting a brand new Roman one-shot real soon so look out for that.

As usual, tagging everyone else: @jxtina-86 @wrestlingprincess80 @fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41 @alyyaanna @squishyguishy @jstarr86 @murrylove @thewarlordsworld @mzv11 @cozyaliensuperstar7 @nayys-world @hunnidmilly @cyberdejos2 @papireigns-05 @niknakbucks92 @captainwithoutmakingitlove @sovereigngoth @aisharmi @kennedi0818 @alichesmi @thesamoanqueen @herwickedlittlesins @harmshake @questionable-behaviour @tribalchiefreigns @2-muchsauce @thatbxtchsblog @raya-hunter01 @marchi36753 @lovelysuccess @christinabae @wooahmiri @thatonecarebear @tabletheofhead @rheaanddamianfan @vebner37 @hanley1577 @princessesareforsuckers @-naturally @joannasteez @bbygirlky18 @lilucey @theninthwonder @melaninsugababy @chocovibesonly @msbluehaz3 @scarlettnoir01 @heerah34 @empressdede @tbmotw @darkangelchronicles @visionarymode @marasdeathnote @aintnorainbows @meggylynnloves @shantinextdoor @harlemblipster @trc-punzel @afterdarkprincess @nbanenefrmdao @sassginaswanmills @purplehairgawdess @holisticcoach @girlwhogaf @royalkay23 @heyitsnajabrinee @stoner2k @reci1996 @catxo @iamimanim @lookmais @ts1mp0ne @shonny09 @lizzyd1ish @gomussy @m3llowww @skyesthebomb @final1miya

[gunsandspaceships]

Did Tony really like to party?

We'll list every party we know Tony has attended in the MCU (including deleted scenes and What If? S2 E4, since that Tony is a copy of the main Tony from the MCU) and see what he was doing there.

MIT

When Tony was 17-18 he went to parties with other MIT students. Here's the main post, but I'll quote the MIT alumni again:

“I remember him at after-parties on Thayer Street. He was up later than anyone else. But you could always get a ride home with him, because he always had a car.”

“No one really knew him, he was just a rich kid. Everyone wanted him around, though, because he'd always bring something fun for the party.”

What he was doing there: entertaining others. Didn't really communicate with them, didn't drink, helped them get home.

Bern (New Year Eve, 1999)

Two questions: 1) Does he look drunk? 2) Does he willingly communicate with people other than Maya and Happy? My answer to both questions is no.

What he was doing there: separately from everyone else quietly communicated with Maya; avoided people except her, to help with this task took Happy with him; if it was not possible to avoid interactions, reduced them to a minimum; despite Yinsen's words from IM1 he didn't seem drunk, while people around were; happily left the party to spend time alone with Maya. Wearing sunglasses in darkened rooms at night.

Jet (on the way to Afghanistan, 2008)

What he was doing there: sprawled on the couch, sipping champagne and looking at his flight attendants, while drunken Rhodey tried to convince him that he's a good person. The party didn't last long - one of the flight attendants blindfolded him and took him to the bedroom.

Dubai (2008, alternative trip to Gulmira)

As you can see it was either a VERY fun party or not at all.

What he was doing there: creating an alibi for himself to fly to Gulmira to save people from the Ten Rings. Wearing sunglasses at night. Avoiding interactions, visibly uncomfortable with those he couldn't avoid. Left immediately with two girls ordered for conspiracy. Having reached the bedroom, left them and flew away on the mission.

P.S. He also asked a third girl to join them on the way to the bedroom, leaving the guy who was with her alone. I imagine that incident potentially could create another Marvel villain.

Charity Ball (IM1, 2008)

What he was doing there: showing the public and the board of directors that he's fine. Avoiding people, had unwanted interactions with Coulson and Christine just because they caught him. Basically ignoring Coulson, staring at Pepper. Drank a little. Enjoyed time only with Pepper: slow dancing with her, joking around, paying attention to her feelings and needs, asking if he makes her uncomfortable, and offering to go outside for some fresh air when she needs it. Together with Pepper, left for a secluded place on the balcony. Quietly talking to her there. Went to get drinks for Pepper without question when she felt the urge. Told Christine that he is feeling uncomfortable there. Actually showed signs of discomfort. Immediately left after talking with Stane.

Birthday Party (IM2)

Another super fun alibi party. This time to "pass" the armor to Rhodey and push everyone away from himself so that he can die alone and so that no one will mourn for him.

What he was doing there: acting. Pretending he is dead drunk and enjoying the party. Wearing sunglasses at night inside the house (in the deleted scene with Natasha). Destroyed the ice statue of himself. To Natasha's question "What about those people around?" said "That's why we are doing it. It's for them. It's my party, it's my friends. They like this sort of garbage". What kind of "friends" are these for him, you can find out from Jon Favreau himself here. Kicks everyone out of the house by yelling during the fight with Rhodey. Just lying exhausted in a destroyed house after everyone left.

Age Of Ultron Party

What he was doing there: greeted Rhodey and Sam. Spent some time in the small company of Thor, Maria Hill and Rhodes. Was quiet - listened and smiled more than he spoke. Drank a little, perhaps less than the others. Quietly played cards with the team after most people had left. Became active only at the stage of attempting to lift the hammer. Encouraged others to try.

To summarize: he was quiet and attentive overall. Was just hanging around his house like a stranger while people other than the Avengers were at a party. Seemingly felt more comfortable when most of the people left and he stayed with the team, just playing cards and drinking beer.

Indian wedding (Spider-Man Homecoming)

What he was doing there: Tony attended someone's wedding in India. Apparently he didn't know the language, so he couldn't communicate and kept away from other people. Looked busy with Peter and something else. Showed no interest in the event. Didn't really drink and left quickly.

Grandmaster's Birthday (What If?)

"I've put my party days behind me".

What he was doing there: Grandmaster forced Tony to stay to celebrate his birthday by threatening him with his Melt Stick. Tony settled on the couch away from the others and was not very pleased when the Grandmaster joined him. Showed no signs of enjoyment throughout the event. Just wanted to get home pronto. Chose to save the people first instead.

Victory Celebration with Val and Korg (What If?)

What he was doing there: enjoyed their little company, but thought about Pepper and Earth.

Conclusion:

As you can see, the common characteristics of all or most of his party visits, except those when he was in a small group of close friends, were:

avoidance of people

sunglasses (if available) when they don't make much sense except covering his eyes from others

focusing on quiet calm interactions with people he knows

leaving the parties at the first opportunity/running away from them

focus on entertaining others, not himself

no alcohol consumption or consumption in small quantities

showing signs of discomfort

looking and acting like he is out of place

At the same time, at quiet parties with a small group of close people, he seemed to feel more comfortable.

You can already draw your conclusion. Mine - he didn't like parties at all. He sometimes enjoyed spending time in the company of people he liked, and it had nothing to do with enjoying parties per se.

His own words here.

[stevesjockstrap]

During Pride Month

@stcreators event 09: Pride

@steddiesongfics June: Blondie - Heart of Glass

Steve/Eddie • rated T • mentioned Robin/Vickie and Argyle/Nancy/Jonathan • alcohol, getting together, idiots to lovers • read on ao3

It was a wonder Eddie even hung out with this group anymore, honestly. It was usually entertaining at the very least, but he was starting to question his life choices. Their normal bar had been hosting Pride month events, which wasn’t the issue, Robin had lead their team to victory during a trivia night and Eddie and Steve had won the Newlywed game last week. They hadn’t told him tonight was karaoke, though. The later it got, the more the bar had steadily filled up and the performers turned to either pretty decent singers or at least those who knew they were drunk and off key enough to encourage the heckling from their friends and the crowd.

Sinking into his buzz enough to consider staying now, he looked around their booth. Robin and Vickie were cuddled up in one corner and Nancy was sandwiched in between Argyle and Jonathan.

Steve always drove Eddie crazy on their nights out. Either utilizing his scary dog privileges when he didn’t want any attention, sitting under Eddie’s arm all night and dragging him to the dance floor to plaster himself to his front. Worse were the nights when he did want the attention, flitting enthusiastically between whoever struck his fancy around the bar. Robin would send him sly looks on those nights, knowing where Eddie would rather have him, but since they weren’t actually together Eddie couldn’t keep him on the stool next to his.

So when Steve disappeared, Eddie tried not to let it bother him and instead lined up the shots for the table, keeping his eyes down and making himself not search out the gorgeous mop of hair. To who was touching or looking at him.

Until the next song started and the amplified voice drew all their attention to the stage. The sassy walk across the stage to send their far table a look made Eddie gasp and Robin yell out. Jon chuckled from next to him.

“Once I had a love and it was a gas

Soon turned out had a heart of glass.”

Steve usually stuck to Springsteen, safe power ballads or dramatic duets with Robin when they felt extra goofy. Nothing like this. Eddie couldn’t tear his eyes away from him, not looking at all at the screen for the words, putting much more emotion into the song.

Eddie clinked his shot quickly with his friends’ then tapped it on the table before finally breaking eye contact with Steve as he threw it back.

“What I find is pleasing and I’m feeling fine

Love is so confusing there's no peace of mind

If I fear I’m losing you it’s just no good

You teasing like you do.”

“Fuck,” he breathed as the alcohol burned its way down, Steve winked at him and one handedly pulled his shirt over his head revealing a tight tank top.

“Maybe this’ll finally get his attention,” Vickie stage whispered to Robin who quickly shushed her, both of them dissolving into hysterical laughter.

Eddie didn’t know what that meant, but immediately directed his gaze back to the crooning man on the stage.

“Once I had a love and it was a gas

Soon turned out to be a pain in the ass.”

“Hey, does he mean me?” Nancy huffed and Jonathan coughed into his beer, but Eddie ignored them, too.

Standing, he walked closer to the stage, getting a thrill as Steve’s eyes followed him as he sang, paying no attention to the other patrons who were definitely taking interest. Steve wouldn’t be leaving with anyone else tonight if he could help it.

As the last chords died out from the song, Steve couldn't hold back the smirk twitching on his lips watching Eddie approach the steps to the stage.

The polite clapping from the crowd crescendoed as he opened his arms for Steve and instead of taking the steps, jumped from the stage and wrapped his legs around Eddie. With a small ‘oof,’ he caught him around the waist and met his open mouthed kiss. The rest of the bar joined their table in their screaming but Eddie was focused on Steve.

“Took you dinguses long enough!” Robin screamed over the noise when they broke apart and Eddie had to kiss the somehow shy smile from his lips.

Maybe karaoke hadn’t been so bad after all.

Many thanks and kisses to @lawrencebshoggoth for like this entire prompt and song choice 😘🖤

Pride stars divider by @steddiecameraroll-graphics 🤩

[rubykgrant]

(I can't remember if I ever shared this by itself, but here is the bit from my fic with Jon and Martin having some time to breathe while at the Cabins; one of them has been very aware of what they've been up to, while the other has... lagged a bit~)

Martin walks over to the counter, pours the water into the cup, watching the dark color from the tea bag bleed out, swirling as the tea steeped. With all the confidence he can muster, Martin turns to walk back toward the kitchen table, and as he passes behind Jon, puts one hand on Jon’s shoulder, leans down slightly, and says-

“Just so you know, I still love you. In case you want to do anything about that,”

Oh, HELL YEAH. That was so COOL. Martin has never been that smooth in his life, not without being a little drunk, anyway… or, if he was flirting with somebody just to have a quick fling, he was perfectly fine being “seductive” when it wasn’t really going to turn into anything beyond that. He hasn’t tried to flirt with somebody he was already living with before, so this was a rather unique situation, and whatever may happen next, Martin was glad he actually said the words (in a very cool, smooth way).

“Oh,” Jon says quietly. He blinks, then turns to look at Martin, grabbing a towel to dry his hands. “I thought… we already were? Doing something about it?”

“Wait- what?”

“I mean, haven’t we been… ?” Jon gives a little shrug, as if to gesture to something that should be obvious. When Martin still doesn’t catch on or catch up, Jon takes a breath and tries to elaborate. “Martin, we live together-”

“Yeah, in a safehouse, because we’re hiding from the law, and creepy monsters, and people who worship fear demons!” Martin points out.

“We cook together, we clean together, we take care of each other…” Jon adds.

“That’s just what you do when you live with a roommate!” Martin informs him.

“We take walks together, and hold hands…” Jon says.

“People do that all the time! Friends can hold hands with friends!” Martin says back.

“We’ve been sleeping in the same bed. Every night,” Jon continues.

“There’s only ONE bed! Why wouldn’t we share!” Martin responds (and it figures Jon wouldn’t recognize the cliché).

“I’ve been kissing you on the cheek, and your forehead, and around your neck, and calling you DARLING for the last two weeks,” Jon’s expression has been a little bewildered through this entire exchange, and right now, he looks like he’s trying and failing to tell somebody how gravity works.

“You-! You… yeah, you have. Uh… friends. Friends can kiss each other. And use, ah- endearing pet-names. That’s a thing…” all that confidence evaporates, and now it is Martin’s turn to blink in confusion. “So you thought that we’ve- this was all you being… romantic?”

“Well, I wasn’t trying to, y’know- assume a romantic relationship was something you wanted, especially when we’re stuck here together, I was just sort of attempting to… offer it as an option? I knew how you used to feel, but feelings are, um- complicated, they change, so I wanted to make sure you were comfortable with me in general. And then take things slowly, so I wouldn’t overwhelm you or rush into it. But- I thought you knew?” Jon shrugs again. His expression is almost helplessly lost.

“How- how could I know? You didn’t TELL me!” Martin sets his tea down on the kitchen table; he suddenly feels so twitchy, he thinks he might start getting more animated with his gestures, and he’s likely to spill.

“That’s true…” Jon admits with a thoughtful nod. “I’m sorry, Martin. I really am terrible at explaining myself, or making my- my intentions known…” as Jon pauses, Martin lets out a small huff of laughter. This man, how he talks. Making his intentions known; how much of it is on purpose, and how much of it is just Jon not paying attention to irony? It doesn’t matter, because either way, Martin found it impossibly endearing.

He can’t believe this… at some point, after Martin started to recover, Jon had decided to… what, “woo” him? Begin a “courtship”? Without actually saying anything? God damn it all, it had WORKED too, Martin went and fell in love with him! Again! This was such a mortifying way to discover he had a “type”, and evidently that type was Jonathan Sims, regardless of how Jonathan Sims happened to be acting. Mean-spirited and scornful, petty and paranoid, no sense of self-preservation, and… so very kind, to the point it was almost maddening, how DARE this man be gentle and considerate, and such an absolute weird little nerd? The nerve. Oh, double-damn, Jon had even gone about it like a bird attempting to "attract a mate", gathering up little gifts, making a "cozy nest", all that cuddling/hair-stroking was like preening, and it had WORKED.

Martin realizes he hasn’t said anything in a while, distracted by how nonsensical this situation is, and he’s actually laughing a little; he has to bring a hand up to his face to try and get himself sorted, feeling how warm and flushed he is. He wonders if his emotions are going to short-out and shut-off…

“Martin?” Jon steps closer. Martin finally focuses his attention back to Jon, keeping one hand pressed over his mouth (trying to hide a smile he can’t control). “I care about you, very much. You’ve become an incredibly important, special person in my life. I don’t want you to feel obligated to some expectation in any way, but if you’re interested, I’d like us to try sharing a more intimate relationship together. I know this isn’t a typical romance, and we can’t exactly go out on dates- you deserve all that and more, but I want to make you happy. I want you to know exactly how important and special you are,”

Jon reaches out, taking the hand at Martin’s side.

“Would that be alright with you?” Jon asks.

Martin nods, not trusting himself to speak just yet.

“May I kiss you, Martin?”

Oh that is it, if Martin has to hear Jon say one more thing that sounds like a character from some romantic novel set in the Victorian era making a vow of ever-lasting love, he’s going to lose his mind!

Martin lets out an exasperated sigh. He looks so irritated, Jon begins to think this has all gone badly somehow, he made a mistake, or went too far… and then with a light yank, Martin pulls Jon closer, their chests press together, and Martin very deliberately kisses him.

This both shuts Jon up and provides an answer to the question.

[riddle-me-fear]

Jon let's be honest how much did you sleep last night? Also Ed how often does Jon fall asleep during his work?

[tw: nuclear explosives mentioned, topic of death/dying]

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

Last night I- I... Last night...

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

Go on. Tell them.

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

I uuh... I wasn't blackout drunk, was I?

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

Fortunately not, that would have been much more of an inconvenience to me. ... You don't remember at all, do you?

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

Naah wait, I can... I should r'member if... When... What day wus it?

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

It was Sunday, not that that's going to jump-start your memory. You've been at the lab the entire day, and far into the night.

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

R-right I... I wus workin' on a new formula...

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

Since I started to worry, I came looking for you. Didn't take very long, as I was certain where you'd be. You were knocked out cold - I actually checked if you still had a pulse, because you looked like a corpse, face-down, laying on top of your notes, spread all across the table. Also, absolutely nothing would wake you up. Somebody might as well have set off an atomic bomb in the middle of Gotham, you'd have slept right through it.

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

Aaww lookat'chew actually worryin' 'bout me. But wait, I remembah wakin' up in bed next to you, how'd ya get me home? I know ya can't lift anythin' fo' shit.

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

Ahah! How hilarious that is, coming from you. I've gained some muscle over the past year, mind you. I don't know how you do it, but despite being a literal skeleton, you're still heavier than me!

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

Reckon' it's tha height.

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

Possibly. Well, anyway, Waylon helped me get you home. I almost felt bad for calling him so late, or early, you could say. Almost. You'll have to make it up to him at some point, because I definitely wouldn't have handled you with such care. He even bumped his head on the car - twice - when laying you down on the back seat and picking you back up once we arrived at home.. He even carried you up the stairs and set you down in the bed, I'd just have dropped you on the couch, or the floor even, you wouldn't have noticed the difference. And through all of that, you didn't even flinch - not once was there even the slightest chance of waking up.

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

Musta been real tired.

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

You don't say. Hmm, I wonder why that could possibly be. How much sleep did you get the nights before that, Jonathan?

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

Ey! I slept at least six hours. On uuh... on Wednesday.

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

I do hope I don't have to tell the man with a literal PhD in psychology and chemistry what that does to your mind and body, or do I?

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

I do kno', so ya can spare me the lecture. ... Wait, you said yesterday wus Sunday, but yesterday wus Monday, wusn't it?

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

Nonono, I told you which day it was that you dozed off at the lab. That was two days ago, as of the moment you awoke.

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

... I slept fo' two whole days?

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

I don't see how that comes as a surprise to you, after you actively avoided sleep for around three days.

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

... Fuuck...

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

Well, that answers your first question. Unfortunately, dear anon, this happens more often than I would like - which is to say I would like this not to happen at all. However, I have to say, it doesn't happen nearly as frequently as it used to. Remember when you still worked at the University, or at Arkham? You practically lived in your office.

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

Well, it wus convenient! Don't 'ave ta pack everythin' up jus' ta head on home an' do tha same shit I can do at ma office. Jus' saved me sum time.

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

Time you should have used to sleep! You're not as young as you used to be, Jon! We both know you're not going to make it until 60, not if you keep going like this. I mean you already look 20 years older than your actual age.

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

Yer naht tha peak of health eitha, so shove it up yer ass, Ed!

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

Ughh, you're worse than an infant sometimes. Can you at least try to be more responsible about your health? It's not that I care, really, I can live without you, obviously. I just... I'd personally find it preferable if you didn't. Die, I mean. I'd appreciate you living for at least a couple more centuries, if possible.

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

...

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

Jon?

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

I can't promise ya anythin'. ... But I'll try ma best.

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

... Thank you...

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

Afta all, It'd be dreadfully boring without me, I bet, you'd go nuts.

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

Oh absolutely, I would, one-hundred percent.

[sherlokiness]

Jon likes a princess

I'm gonna try to explain but I think the only legitimate anti jonsa argument I can accept that it will never happen because Sansa is not Jon's type and their ideals don't click. He doesn't like girls like Sansa of which I can't fault him for. Like Ned falling for Cersei or something like that.

All the other anti jonsa arguments can be blown off because they are hypocritical. No one bats an eye on aegony and jonrya so clearly, they think Jon is fully capable of jumping the incest hurdle. But when you mention jonsa they go "oh that's incest" which comes back to the hypocritical part. It's accepted that Jon will marry his auntie by relying on Jonnel/Sansa precedent to get rid of the incest label but when jonsas raise an eyebrow it can never be? Are they hearing themselves? Why can Jon jump the incest hurdle for Dany/Arya but not Sansa?

She is not a princess. "As you wish, Your Grace."

Jon sighed. He was weary of explaining that Val was no true princess.

Val is no princess, though. I told him that half a hundred times.

She may not be a princess, but she would make a worthy wife for any lord.

I think we can establish what Jon thinks of Val's princess status and that he doesn't consider her as one. Why the turn around? Well, it was when he was thinking that if she were one, he decided she'd be a warrior princess.

Why not? thought Jon. They are all convinced she is a princess. Val looked the part and rode as if she had been born on horseback. A warrior princess, he decided, not some willowy creature who sits up in a tower, brushing her hair and waiting for some knight to rescue her.

We're focusing too much on warrior part. Why the need to suddenly elevate Val's status despite vehemently denying it before? It's like when he's thinking of his mother, she has to be beautiful and high born and not a whore. So he does like princesses but not the damsels in the tower.

This is an allusion to Sansa and the only one who perfectly checks all mark in the text. And if we're gonna admit this princess in a tower is Sansa then I've got bad news because there is another princess in a tower in the story - Arianne. She has been unlucky in love multiple times but we later find out that it was designed that way by her father bc she has been promised from the start- to a dragon/Targaryen concerning a secret pact. 🫢🫢🫢

Why would Jon say he prefers the fake princess Val over Sansa? It's not as if those ladies would want to be rescued by a bastard like him. It was never an option. If you get into community college, do you need to say I hate Harvard anyway?

Florent's face grew flushed with anger. "So it is true. You mean to keep her for yourself, I see it now. The bastard wants his father's seat."

The bastard refused his father's seat. If the bastard had wanted Val, all he had to do was ask for her.

Val, the warrior princess, was within his reach. So Jon is just being a sour grapes. Then there's Dany being at odds with winesellers and Sansa saving a drunk man from a tyrant.

And if want to dig deeper, the story concerns a hungry fox. What is Jon's deepest wish?

He wanted it, Jon knew then. He wanted it as much as he had ever wanted anything. I have always wanted it, he thought, guiltily. May the gods forgive me. It was a hunger inside him, sharp as a dragonglass blade.

Jon wants a son and Winterfell. There's the Val/Sansa contrast again because he could have satisfied his hunger but he didn't because of the appearance of Ghost/Sansa.

1) Sansa is an actual princess and not a fake. She's not some relative of the one who married the King.

2) Was locked in the highest tower of Maegor's Holdfast by Cersei and the Eyrie by LF

3) Brushing her hair while waiting for her knight

Had Joffrey found out about her meetings with Ser Dontos? Please no, she thought as she brushed out her hair. Ser Dontos was her only hope.

It's really hard that the only reasonable anti jonsa argument I could accept was written with bullet points concerning Sansa. Like GRRM won't let me win.🫤