#like I can see why it could be jaime. but also I don't see it?

[hazelsmirrorball]

And they were roommates | F1 Drivers

summary: y/n wanted to live in New York, so that's how she ended up living with three losers faceclaim: Sabrina Carpenter pairings: oscar piastri x fem!reader, lando norris x fem! reader, Logan Sargent x fem!reader, franco colapinto x fem!reader

a/n: Excuse any errors english isn’t my main language. this is inspired by new girl

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yourusername can someone pick me up? I don't think I can live with them anymore

tagged: @logansargent @oscarpiastri @landonorris

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logansargent we look really hot with our shades on!! But why the hell are Oscar and Lando wearing ur bras?

yourgirlbestfriend omg!! I thought you were joking when you said they used trash cans as pools in ur balcony

-> yourusername nothing is a joke when it comes to them

landonorris shoes off the couch! I sleep there

-> yourusername boo you whore

francolapinto you look so cute :)

-> yourusername omg im blushing

-> logansargent she really is blushing btw

-> yourusername delete this!

-> landonorris @oscarpiastri are you seeing this? isn't this ur girl

-> yourusername stop cockblocking me

-> oscarpiastri We are just friends.

-> landonorris but you wish you were more

-> yourusername do you guys know that private message exist

-> landonorris but I want your whole 100 followers to see that Oscar has a crush on you

-> oscarpiastri I do not.

-> <-

Logan and Y/n stood in front of the tv as the Zumba routine played at full volume. The clock read 4:30 am as the pair tried following the middle aged woman in front of them. Logan skipped in a circle moving his dumbbells side to side. As Y/n hollered when the woman on the TV would ask if they were hype. Oscar, being tired from the night before he could hear the pair having the time of their lives with the zumba. He quickly slipped on some pants not bothering to put on a shirt while walking down the stairs rubbing the tiredness of his eyes. When Oscar finally got to the bottom of the stairs he quickly got flashed with Logan’s short shorts. 

“Oh, Oscar, are you joining us?” Logan said, turning to him as he placed the dumbbells down taking a sip from his water. Y/n also turned jogging in place smiling at Oscar. 

 “I thought you guys were doing that dancing class” Oscar said as he yawned looking at the pair thinking that the clothes they had on was a cause of his imagination and lack of sleep. 

“Yeah, dummy. What do you think we are doing? This is a dancing class. We are doing Zumba. Logan found a cheap disk at a thrift store and he also found these sick outfits so we are matching with the ladies on the tv” Y/n responded stretching her wrist warmers. 

“Yeah, we are getting ripped”

“I thought you guys meant you were going to the gym and that they were offering the class. It's four in the morning guys. That stupid song is driving me insane” Oscar said glaring at the pair as he leaned against the wall. Logan groaned, throwing his head back as Y/n raised an eyebrow at him. 

“You are certainly not invited to our pilates mom group” 

“Logan, you are not a mother. Neither of you are” 

“Well with all you bitching and moaning, I should be” 

Lando pushed open the apartment door after  having one to many drinks at the club he looked at Y/n and Logan and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. 

“Are you guys supposed to be John Travolta and Jaime Lee Curtis?”

-> <-

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landonorris I just noticed that my whole camera roll is dedicated to my loser roommates. I need a life.

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yourusername mom! I swear I don't drink

-> landonorris babe don't lie. those white claws are on ur side of the fridge

-> yourusername those white claws aren't mine, that's Logan side of the fridge

-> logansargent I hope none of you are touching my white claws

yourusername Oscar is such a nerd

-> oscarpiastri Hey! I have instagram.

-> logansargent surprisingly

-> <- Y/n pulled Franco Colapinto’s arm as she quietly tried to sneak him out of the apartment without waking her roommates up. Franco’s clothes hung loosely on her body as she shushed him for what felt like the one hundredth time. As they were almost near the exit, Lando turned on the light with a huge grin on his face.  

“Is this supposed to be his walk of shame?” 

“Lando shut up and go to be” Y/n replied through gritted teeth, as Franco stood in front of the door awkwardly. 

“I will not shut up. This is the first time you bring a guy home. Honestly I am so proud of you. I was worrying that I was the only one bringing people to the apartment. But now I don’t feel as bad.” Lando said walking up to them and wrapping his arms around both of their shoulders. 

“Lando, you literally bring two people daily. I think you should feel bad.” 

“No because, this is different. Wait until Osar finds out. Hold up, this means you are not a virgin anymore. Oh my God my kids are growing up.” 

“Lando, I wasn’t a virgin” 

“That’s what I am saying, Did he..Oh God. Oscar! Oscar, come here” 

The three of you guys stare at each other in silence while oscar quickly walks into the kitchen looking at the trio. He looked Franco up and down, quickly turning to Lando 

“What” 

“Did you know, Y/n isn’t a virgin anymore?” 

“I know”

“You know?!” 

“Who did you took it?”

-> <-

yourusername via insta stories! landonorris via insta stories!

-> <-

The four of roommates sat on the couch quietly scrolling on their phones. They have been like that for like for an hour. The peaceful silence had broke when Lando gasped loudly.

“You guys remember that we agreed on doing a group costume”  

“No one agreed to do a group costume” 

“No, you guys did!”

“You said, we should do a group costume for Charles halloween party and we didn’t answer” 

“Anyways, as I was saying, I saw a tik tok of some roommates that dressed as the main south park characters and that would be perfect for us. Logan can be Kyle, Y/n can be Stan, OScar can be Catman and I can be Kenny” Logan said while showing them the tiktok on his phone. Y/n laughed and turned to Logan. 

“You being Kenny is insane” 

“Why?” 

“Oscar should be Kenny and you should be Cartman” Y/n responded as if it were obvious. 

“Stop defending your boyfriend. I don’t want to be Cartman”

“Lando. You are literally Cartman”

“ I am not! I already bought the costumes in our sizes so shut up”

“Wait, why did my card got charged” 

-> <-

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oscarpiastri I am never saying yes for a 4th of July party.

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yourusername who is that lady in the last picture, she is quite attractive

landonorris I look so good in this pic, what the fuck

logansargent oscars active era?

charlesleclerc I think I missed a chapter, what's up with that last picture

-> landonorris I don't even know what's going on, I thought the little guy that flirts was still in the picture

-> francolapinto i am taller than you

Francolapinto invite me next time

-> oscarpiastri No.

-> <-

“Damn it! Everyone to the bathroom right now!” Logan yelled, making everyone enter the small shared bathroom. Logan gripped on his towel showing it to the group. “Is someone playing a joke on me? Honestly, why is my towel still damp?”

“Because that’s not your towel, Logan. It’s my towel” Lando responded, pointing at the blue towel he was holding. Logan looked at Lando with fear. 

“No it’s not. Your towel is the red one. It always has been the red one” 

“I'll tell you this, pal. I've never used that. I do use that one every single day.”

“Oh, God.” Logan said, gagging. 

‘This towel's so warm and fluffy. It's like it's been in the sun forever.” Y/n said, touching the red towel. 

“This means you two have been drying your junk with the same towel.” Oscar commented, trying to escalate the situation. 

“Intimate.”

“Are you out of your mind?! What do you mean, am I... How do you think this is your towel? Do you even wash it?” Logan asked, trying to not get worked up, which he was failing miserably.  

“No, I don't wash the towel; the towel washes me. Who washes a towel?” Lando responded matter of factly while the others looked at him shocked. 

“You never wash?”

“You wash your towel?” 

“You never wash the towel?” 

“What am I going to do? Wash the shower next? Wash a bar of soap? You got to think here, pal.” Lando said, rolling his eyes. 

“I'm furious right now.” 

“ I get out of the damn shower, I'm clean as a damn baby, and I use the towel.”

“Let me ask you this. Have you been wearing my underpants” Logan asked as his eye twitch. 

“Sometimes, yeah. Who cares? You guys don't wear each other's underpants? You're lying. We all wear each other's underwear.”

-> <-

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logansargent loving my roommates (excluding the little one)

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landonorris the little one?! y/n is the little one. I am taller than her

-> yourusername oh shut up short king

-> logansargent take away the king

-> yourusername short

-> logansargent short

-> carlosainz short

-> oscarpiastri short

-> alexalbon short

-> georgerussell short

-> francolapinto short

oscarpiastri you are so American, im scared

-> <-

“I want to see who got podium!” Oscar said through his headset grinning, while lando scoffed. 

“I obviously got podium, did you not see my hard work out there? I for certain won” Lando replied hitting the table in front of him. As the screen went black. 

They all had been like that for the past two hours and none of them had gotten podium. So they had come up with a group strategy for at least one of them to come on top. When the screens comes back up lando yells angrily while Logan groans. 

“You guys didn’t give me five starts!” 

“Come on, Lando! We can’t  all be on the podium” Y/n replied from her room through the headset.

“You are such and ass. My outfit was better than your. Fuck! The theme was Main Character, you did a basic outfit, while I actually played the game correctly and did Sharpay Evans. It pisses me off that I lost. Like this game is dress to impress. Not dress to be mediocre. I am done”

logansargent via insta stories! oscarpiastri via insta stories!

-> <-

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yourusername apartment 512 got a doggy!

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charlesleclerc now our doggies can have a doggy date

-> landonorris I don't want my dog near your dog, leclerc

logansargent why did we also get pictures of you and Oscar? what happen to that handsome guy

landonorris if you guys are together don't you dare break up because we have a lease together, thanks x

alexalbon since when is Oscar this happy

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oscarpiastri my favorite roommate

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landonorris I didn't get a post for my birthday

logansargent I think we are out of the loop what is happening

alexalbon Oscar is in his active era. I am afraid

yourusername love you, Osc.

logansargent you guys can't leave me alone with lando if you move out!

[melrosing]

why did martin made cersei evil from the beginning? tyrion and jaime are very fucked up but they still have some kindness and empathy in them. at age 7 she was torturing baby tyrion by pulling on his genitals and threatening the wet nurse her tongue would be cut out. she killed her friend at age 10. having all these negative traits baked in from the beginning makes her more flat for me. plus martin made her stupid and mockable. she has zero self awareness. she is dishonest with herself. even d&d had more respect for her. do you think cersei is a sociopath? i think martin doesn't like her. do you agree with me?

ok you pose several arguments here but I will try and reply as entirely as I can.

why did martin made cersei evil from the beginning?

I've questioned this choice sometimes but I don't think it was necessarily the wrong one?? the scene with baby Tyrion is to me a deeply disturbing but still very interesting one that says a lot about Cersei, her relationship with Tywin, and the greater part she's played in shaping her relationship with Tyrion.

here, she has obviously very quickly absorbed Tywin's 'the baby killed Joanna' narrative, and is punishing Tyrion in a manner that's like. both childish and horribly violent at once, like she doesn't fully understand how violence is usually applied (pinching is a really childish form of violence in my mind), but she knows how to make it hurt.

then there's also the fact that perhaps Tyrion now represents a rival to second place - her status over him is that she's able-bodied, but his over her is his sex. maybe Cersei has some vague understanding of this at seven, and that's another part of why she hurts Tyrion is this extremely particular way.

and also like. Tywin is ultimately a man of extreme violence, and Cersei has always been listening at the door trying to learn from him. it makes sense that she'd be trying to apply his teachings where she sees fit, and that this would result in disturbed behaviour like what she does to Tyrion. I think it's also interesting that we can distinguish this from what Joffrey does to the cat, for example. there's a kind of obliviousness to that act of violence in Joffrey's early childhood (making more the case for nature over nurture, though nurture plays its part). Cersei's childhood violence is a lot more intentional: it feels like she's trying to exercise power of her own, and that is very much fitting with adult Cersei's story.

however, I think Cersei herself identifies the Melara incident as something of an outlier in her childhood. I don't say this to suggest that Cersei was not a very violent child, but that she didn't do it out of pure evil. I think the key factor driving Cersei to do what she does to Melara is a fear for her own mortality - Melara points out that if noone talks of Maggy's prophecy, it needn't be true, and so Cersei kills the only other person who knows of it (besides Maggy). I do think spite towards Melara for yearning for Jaime factored insofar as this helps Cersei build just enough spite towards Melara that she's able to do what she does, but it is primarily an act of self-preservation, I think. I think many evil acts of Cersei's are self-preservation, though taken way past the line of what's justifiable to that end.

and ofc, Cersei as an adult feels some level of guilt about what she did to Melara. it does fuck with her a bit. I think the main reason is that Melara was a friend and confidante for a time, someone who she could have held close but instead cast out (same as how she briefly reflects on Sansa and how she might have done better by her). so..... again, it does come down to self-preservation in the end, but I don't think Cersei was a two-dimensional evil kid. you can find the sense in her reasoning, which is pretty absent in what Joffrey does to the cat.

tyrion and jaime are very fucked up but they still have some kindness and empathy in them.

i personally find the cersei/her brothers dichotomies kind of frustrating cos like. not every character needs the traits of empathy and kindness. Cersei is not the only character in ASOIAF who lacks these traits. Littlefinger, Euron, Roose, Ramsay, Tywin himself, etc, all lack these traits, and yet are not afforded anything close to complexity Cersei is. she is the only POV character among these villains. and whilst I do think that the whiplash between Cersei's occasionally-played-for-laughs foolishness and her sexual trauma is sometimes verging on ill-judged, fandom should take more accountability for the extent to which they relegate Cersei to dark comic relief. she was not written as this.

and as I've said before, whilst I do think it's notable that Cersei is our primary female villain yet written as often foolish and ridiculed as such, yet male villains comparably tend to be much savvier, it still makes sense that Cersei would lack these smarts: she wasn't taught them. still, sure, to some extent I agree that GRRM should not have played this for laughs so often.

returning again to Cersei lacking empathy etc - well, you have other characters who lack evil. Brienne hasn't really got a gram of darkness in her body, yet is enormously complex in other ways. then you've got characters like Asha, who have more of a balance of the two, and yet aren't even half as complex as Cersei (despite being a POV). GRRM has not refused Cersei complexity, and he has not written her, on his own part, without empathy. we see Cersei grieve, we see Cersei traumatised, we see Cersei frightened, we see Cersei humiliated. again, as I've said before, GRRM makes us hold Cersei's cruelty in the one hand, and Cersei's pain in the other, and reckon with both at once. neither excuses the other, as they might in a lesser story - like Game of Thrones!

and i'm not going to go deep into GOT right now, but I don't agree that d&d had more respect for Cersei as a character. d&d cannot conceive of Cersei as anything besides a mother. they reduce everything about her to motherhood, and when she runs out of children, they stick another one in her. they cannot imagine what might drive a character like Cersei beyond motherhood. it is essentially the final note of her story - 'I don't want our baby to die' etc. i don't think i need to say much more to explain that I think reducing a character like book Cersei to this, is deeply misogynistic. if you want to see that misogyny in action elsewhere, see how the finale ultimately frames a dichotomy between the childless Dany, a freak tyrant, and the pregnant mother Cersei, who the writers think we'll want to escape to Pentos to survive with her baby, and who we're supposed to weep for when she doesn't make it out. and now remember what happened like. one episode before with Missandei, the last black woman on this show. d&d couldn't respect a woman if their lives depended on it

do you think cersei is a sociopath?

GRRM says she has an 'almost sociopathic' view of the world, but obviously shies away from identifying her as such, and I think he's right to - these kinds of labels are far too prescriptive when what you're trying to write is a character in a book, not an article for a medical journal.

do you agree with me?

nah not really. ultimately I think whilst Cersei is written as unabashedly evil, this doesn't mean that that evil is two dimensional. she exists on the darkest end of the spectrum because I think that is the most interesting place for her to occupy - I don't believe Cersei's story would be improved with a redemption arc, or a couple of instances where she sneaks Sansa a sweet or w/e. grey characters are interesting, yeah, but they are not invariably more interesting than those in the darkest shades, and I don't think GRRM has done Cersei an injustice by not painting her lighter.

[visenyaism]

I haven't read the main series yet and I'd love to know the lore behind Harrenhal, love see you and others post about it but I sadly don't get all of it 😭

sit down followers it’s story time. Once upon a time there was this guy named King Harren Hoare. and he was king of the iron Islands where he was from, but he decided he wanted to be king of more than that also. so he invaded the Riverlands and conquered it all which was pretty easy because they were fighting each other like they always are instead of him. but being king of two places wasn’t enough he also needed to have the biggest baddest castle in all of the land. So he rounded up a bunch of smallfolk in the nicest most central important location in the riverlands and got them to building it. In his hubris he got too into it and mixed actual human blood into the mortars of the castle. unlike other feudal castles, this one is both literally and figuratively made from peasant blood. 

but he got his castle and it is in fact the biggest in the entire seven kingdoms. It’s notable for its five huge (now wrecked) stone towers. A million men could march on that thing and slide right off. but he forgot to account for the WMD metaphor that being Aegon Targaryen and his sisters flying in on their big big dragons, wanting to conquer everything that he had previously conquered. he refused to surrender because he thought his blood castle would keep him safe and they burned him and all his sons alive in it.

Ever since then, Harrenhal is this half-burned wreck of a castle but no family has been able to hold onto without all dying for more than two generations. my fav occupant was danelle lothston, a girlknight cannibal blood witch who later got executed for bathing in too much peasant blood. in the main series, the whole thing about Harrenhal is that it was the site of this tourney that happened when the main cast were teenagers where jaime lannister got knighted, ned got a crush on a dayne maybe, and lyanna got crowned queen of love and beauty by a very married rhaegar targaryen, all of which set up their generation-defining war. Harrenhal is also this cursed deeply hunted liminal space where time seems to be a lot looser. everyone thinks it’s cursed. there are many theories as to why, including:

1) harrenhal is cursed because of harren’s hubris, which is like the hubris of the lords (usually un-landed) who get handed the castle because they think they can turn it around.

2) the harrenhal curse is an allegory for feudalism, a castle made from peasant blood that eats the grasping lords who get handed it whole.

3) the harrenhal “curse” it’s just that it’s too big to defend and it’s centrally located in the Riverlands, which is important in every single war so it just sort of gets chewed up all the time and there’s no actual magic involved.

4) the Harrenhal curse is just the fact that Aegon’s descendants (Maegor, Rhaena, Daemon, etc) do have a tendency to keep coming back to kill everyone there.

5) the Harrenhal curse is a freaky blood thing that has something to do with its blood walls and a lot to do with its weirwood and the nearby isle of faces, an old god island no mortal, has ever successfully gone to, but several people have died trying. the castle is hungry for blood. 

Ultimately it is a super important place and also this haunted torment labyrinth sometimes the author will just stick characters like daemon or jaime into if they need to be stuck in introspective agony for a while. The current lord is littlefinger so everyone manifest it comes for him soon. 

[kenyummy]

꒰ ⍣'ˎ˗ conspiracies ✰ jaime reyes ꒱

✰ SYNPOSIS : jaime just really wants you to think he's cool. in both forms. too bad you're a raging conspiracy theorist.

inspired by this post so thank you for making my mind spiral insert heart emoji. i love xolo (as everyone who knows me both online and irl knows) and i love jaime so this was just a treat

also this is highkey movie jaime coded but yj him works too tbh

!!! LIVA DNI !!!

It was a regular Monday morning when you first met Blue Beetle.

Your life was as normal as could be, and you were perfectly content living your life out like this. Growing up fine. Leaving school fine. Entering college and trying to find a real, lasting job fine.

Today was a regular old day in your regular old life. Nothing special, really. Just on your way to work at your local coffee shop—mostly to pay off your crippling student loans—in an admittedly nice (and safe) neighbourhood.

Which is why you weren't expecting this. In such a dramatic fashion—a random in a ski-mask comes by and tugs your tote bag off your shoulder, and starts running. The tote bag with your expensive ass phone, and those authentically beautiful earrings you'd gotten as a gift for your 18th inside—so of course you take running in your scuffed and ragged sneakers.

"Wh—hey! Come back here!" You yell out as people on the sidewalk rush to the side from the random pushing their way through. They may be covered by a good ten layers—but by god were they fast. No way you could catch up to them.

But you'd be damned if you didn't try. Too bad you didn't join track in high school—you have a feeling it really would've helped right now.

You consider yelling out that you have a barista's salary and you doubt there'd be much of worth inside, but you're stopped before you do.

The random thief in question is not on the ground anymore. In fact—he's three feet up in the air and dangling upside down, screaming. The ski mask falls off and you see it's actually one of your regulars in your shop.

Your eyes widen, then narrow into a hard glare "Dan?! What the hell, man?!" His eyes look anywhere but at you. He knows he's never going to get his double-caffeinated espresso ever again.

But then, you look at exactly what is holding him from that unfortunate angle. A superhero... you think. Black and blue suit—tendril-like things behind him, one holding up your thief. Blasters underneath his feet that seem to allow him to levitate so high. Pure white eyes and no mouth in sight.

"Why don't you give the lady back her bag, huh?" His voice—while it's partially distorted, he seems rather giddy. Maybe he's a new hero. You were sure as hell Batman wouldn't be running around here.

The bag drops to the ground as soon as he says it, and you rush to collect your things. People around crowd in awe at the heroic act, but all you can think about is how grateful you are that you hadn't lost your phone. Thank god for Block Blast.

You look up—Dan falls to the ground with a grunt while the hero lands gracefully on his feet, hands on his hips—you can practically feel the self-satisfaction radiating off him. He looks to you. "Are you alright, ahem—ma'am?"

Did he just make his voice deeper?

You nod, and spare him a smile. "Yes, thanks to you. I can't tell you how grateful I am that I won't be late for work now."

The hero seems rather confused, "Wait, what—"

"Thank you!" You call out as you take off, running. You had fifteen minutes until your shift started and no way you'd miss it and in turn miss an hour of pay. The hero seems to try and call out to you—but the crowd around him doesn't let him move an inch—and it's like clockwork when a camera and microphone get shoved in his face like he's nothing but a trashy celebrity.

"And, Blue Beetle—how is it that you came to this civilian's aid so fast?"

"I guess I just have a sixth-sense for saving people in need."

You grab the television remote and switch the TV off before you roll your eyes back into your skull. Jaime—your friend and currently the only person at the stand with you—seems less than pleased you did so.

"Hey! What's with you?"

You make a face. "Sixth-sense for saving people? Seriously? Even you have to admit, it's pretty stupid."

"Didn't you say that you were the one he saved this morning? And that's why you weren't late for your shift?"

Resting your elbows on the glass stand, you call for your lazy-ass co-worker (currently on his phone in the back) to take over the cash register when a customer comes in.

You continue to talk away with Jaime, who's shining a glass. "Just because I'm thankful he saved me doesn't mean he's exempt from my well-deserved critique. He sounds like a less-inspiring Superman right now."

Jaime laughs, muttering something under his breath before turning back up to look at you. "That's just mean, chica. I think he's pretty cool, no?"

He places the glass on the table near the blender—while you huff indignantly, leaning backwards. "You've always been like this with superheroes, and so have I. Some things will never change, Jaime. Just like the fact we're both in crippling debt at this dead-end job."

"But... you don't even think he is a little cool... at all? I mean—the costume's pretty sick." He stands over you, arms crossed and smiling.

You pause, thinking. "... Alright, fine. Yeah, the costume looks cool. But I think his head's too big for his body. ...Hey, he kinda reminds me of you."

"... You don't say?"

"I do say," you affirm, smiling at his scoff. "Time to get back to the shop, Reyes. You can uplift any bugs you want after our shift is done."

You press your finger to his nose and move him back, bouncing out of the back room as he watches your retreating figure—deep in thought.

You thought that would be the end of it. Maybe, in a few months or so—you'd get into trouble and a hero would come and save you like in the movies. Maybe even in a few weeks or so. Depending on how unlucky you were.

Well, it seems Lady Luck has a hate boner for you, because this was just getting ridiculous.

On Tuesday, all your stuff was thrown high into a tree and only a being with flight could reach it. The day after that, somebody was about to trip in front of your bus—saved at the nick of time by a blue hero.

Thursday, you were almost hit by a bus this time—swerving on the road like it were drunken, only for the two parts of a now disconnected bus to fall beside you, and a beetle in front of you with a smile.

On the last day of a regular school week—you nearly tripped with several large coffees on your tray—and it doesn't take a genius to figure out why your shirt was not littered with stains and why you still had a job. You don't even know where he came from.

Saturday, a pipe broke and boiling water was about to spray you in the middle of the street. Before it even touched you, a holographic blue shield formed around you and saved you from the embarrassment of a see-through shirt.

On Sunday—you were sick of this. An hour into your shift—somebody rushes in with a bat and shatters the glass casing of your displayed pasteries, stuffing them all into their mouth (how did they even do that...?) and taking off.

Before you could even react—or anyone could, for that matter—Blue Beetle was already there, in the doorframe with a tut and a shaking head. You almost lose your mind as a crowd surrounds him with a tied-up thief beside his feet.

You practically collapse when you get back home, in your dingy little apartment. You lay down like a starfish on your bed and think back to everything that had happened to you the past week.

Robbery. Sabotage (you think). Near-death experiences, twice. Plain and simple clumsiness. Probably sabotage again. And more robbery.

This was very not normal. You've come to this conclusion. Whatever supernatural entity wanted you gone was very aggressive about it. You couldn't possibly imagine what you did to piss somebody off this bad.

Maybe they just didn't like your caramel frappuccino. (You don't think it met health standards, anyway).

But what's even more abnormal than that—Blue Beetle is just always there. Every single time. Without fail—as soon as a problem arises, he just ever so conveniently shows up and saves the day like a true hero.

You practically groan into your pillow.

It's like you haven't had one normal day since he showed up. Since he first saved you. It doesn't help that Jaime insists he's a totally awesome hero just doing his job—saving civilians.

No... he's not just saving you... he's practically always there. A hero can be good. But never that good. He doesn't have super speed, nor (from what you can tell) a literal sense for danger (as you watched a building collapse on him on live TV).

There's no tangible way for him to be constantly saving you, in all different areas of the city, in no particular order.

Unless...

You enter your workplace, determined. This Monday morning you found yourself being mugged in an alleyway you didn't even know existed until today.

Take a wild guess who showed up as the gun pressed to your temple.

You discard your tote and shrug off your coat with snowflakes dribbled all over. You can't believe it had just started snowing today of all day—perhaps the universe sensed your imminent realisation and decided to try and hinder you.

Too bad, the universe could take its pity dick out of your mouth—because you didn't need it.

Today you and Jaime didn't have an overlapping shift together. His finished as soon as yours' started, actually—watching him slip on a thick jacket and greet you with a smile. "Hey, [name], what's—"

You stomp towards him—looking very mildly threatening in your green apron. You point at him, digging your nail into his chest. "You. me. Back of the shop. Now."

His eyes widen as you grab his collar and practically drag him through the cooking areas—co-workers laughing as they holler, "Jaime's gonna get some!"

Yeah, he's getting some alright.

Some conspiracy theories.

You practically shove him into a wall when you kick the back door shut.

"Jaime—I've known you since high school. Didn't really like you then—but we ended up in the same course at the same college and now we're bonded for life. You're my dude, my bro, my hermano—that's why I'm telling you this." You speak, deadly seriously. You're staring up at him with murder in your eyes.

"... Wait, you didn't like me in high school?" He deflates.

"Not important. What is important is that I need to tell you this—because I feel like I'm going crazy." You grab onto his shoulders and glare into his eyes. "I think Blue Beetle is stalking me."

A few seconds. Almost nervous silence. You don't break a sweat, but Jaime seems to be perspiring like he'd just run a marathon—eyes looking anywhere but at you. "... Why do you think so...?"

"Every single time I'm in trouble, he's always there in the blink of an eye! I mean—it's more than saving me, it's every single time. This week has literally been the worst week of my life, and he's always there. The minute somebody takes something from the cafe on my shift—boom, he's in the doorframe before I can blink. Bus about to ram straight into me? He slices that motherfucker in half."

Jaime sweats even more now. "He probably does that with everyone."

"But he doesn't! Yesterday I saw somebody robbing a convenience store in broad daylight—and the police were already there before he even showed up! And you know how long the police like to take their sweet time." You shake his shoulders back and forth. "Jaime, I swear to god—I'm not crazy. He is freaking stalking me. I don't know why, or what for, but—"

An uncomfortable laugh escapes his lips as he pushes you back, lightly, so you're not practically squishing your nose against his. "[name], I'm pretty sure you're overthinking this. That's crazy—I mean, Blue Beetle is a superhero, why would he stalk—"

"I don't know!" You practically explode before he can finish, pacing back and forth with your chin cradled and your eyes narrowed into a glare at the ground. "Maybe he thinks I'm his Lois Lane or something—maybe that's how Superman got the girl and this newbie thinks he can replicate that with me. Argh! Maybe he thinks I'm going to become a villain?! Maybe he's from the future where I already am a villain, and my first step to villainy was getting mugged in an alleyway! You can never tell with these time travellers."

Jaime steadies you with a hand on your shoulder, sighing deeply—as if he's conflicted on saying something, "Look, [name]... I think... you've gotten the wrong idea. I didn't want to tell you this, but—"

Something dings. Your phone starts buzzing in your pocket and you gasp. "Shit! My shift is starting! I'll catch you up on my theory if anything else happens—tell me whatever it is later!"

You run back into the shop like your life depends on it—and Jaime's left standing there in the snow, dejected and thoroughly disenchanted.

Tuesday morning. Everything really hurts.

The sun shines directly into your eyes the moment you awake, and have to reel back from the heavenly brightness. You have no shift today—which means, as far as you're concerned, you're free to go do whatever you'd like.

You decide to stay in bed as long as possible.

Wrapped up in cosy white sheets and limps sprawled and messy over your frame—it takes only a few hours for you to get tired of laying around and get up to actually do something.

You rummage through your closet. Yesterday was your hair-wash day, so you'd be damned if you didn't go out and show off your fresh hair. Maybe you should go and see Jaime and his family. It's been a while since you had some of his abuela's cooking.

Yeah. That'd be nice. No trouble, no weird situations, and certainly no superheroes. Just you, your friend, and his sweet family.

You pick out a cute coat and even cuter flared leggings—grabbing your phone and mints (you never know) and your keys. You walk out the door with your head held high and hope in your bones.

You should've known better. Lady Luck wasn't about to let you run around without being completely miserable—no way. Maybe this time was your fault—dividing away from the main street and going through a shortcut that was devoid of people and rather thick with heavy snow.

It was you and your uggs against the world—stomping through heavy white and snuggling closer into your scarf as snowflakes flutter into your freshly washed hair. Dammit.

Humming a little song to yourself—you don't let this get you down. You're too excited to eat some really good authentic food. No way you're going to be a Debby Downer in their lovely home!

There's a shift in the roof in front of you. It creaks a little—and you instinctively look up. Your eyes widen in panic, and your feet are so buried in the snow you can hardly move—a large pile of white fluff that would be enough to bury you alive is about to do exactly that.

It tumbles, starts to fall and you're about to accept the status of a human snowwoman—when a figure dives in front of you and a blue bubble forms around your figure.

You open your eyes, cracking the lids and peering ever so slightly. It's not cold. It's not even fluffy. You don't feel anything different—but you do see a sheepish blue and black figure, all too familiar, trapped within this same bubble.

You could see red right now. "Are you... Are you serious?!"

You expect him to jolt back, to be surprised—but he doesn't visibly seem to be. He stands there, hand behind the back of his neck and eyes focused on the snow that falls over his bubble like it were miles more interesting than you.

You barely notice it, however—as you finally decide to confront him about your little theory. "Are you stalking me?!"

Blue Beetle gasps. You've even shocked yourself a little bit. You didn't expect to be so blunt about it—but whatever gets the job done.

"Wh—stalking you?! Are you serious?! Why would I... stalk you...?" His tone starts to grow suspiciously more like a question as he nears the end of his quip—you narrow your eyes even further and press your finger accusingly into his chest plate.

"You literally show up every single time I'm in the mildest situations of danger! The moment I trip, the moment my things are stuck—the moment a freakin' bus is about to ram into me, you're always there! Are you just following me around, waiting for the next thing to happen?"

"I thought youd be more grateful! I'm saving you from danger, aren't I?" He sasses. You sneer.

"Of course I'm grateful, but tripping and falling with coffee in my hand isn't really dangerous, in my books." You cross your arms, staring up at him and his pure white eyes. "Now, if you don't have a good explanation for this, I swear on my life I will—"

You don't really have a threat on what you can do to an actual superhero—so you're kind of glad (hidden underneath all the initial shock) that he does something that steals the voice from your throat.

With one swoop—his mask is ripped off his face—a head of curly hair spills out from underneath and a face is revealed to be one you recognise so vividly.

You step back a little, eyes and mouth wide open, "... Jaime? You're the Blue Beetle...? What the hell... when did this even happen...? Why are you a freaking superhero now?! Why didn't you tell me?!"

"I'll answer everything later, I promise. I just..." He averts his gaze, lips pressed tightly together. "I... I wasn't stalking you, chica. I... I just didn't want anything to happen to you, so... I just happened to go around your usual routes while patrolling the city."

For a moment, you pause—and all the embarrassment hits you at once, like a freight train. You ranted to Blue Beetle about... Blue Beetle stalking you. What a life. But you don't let it show, you can't let him know your weakness right now. You're supposed to be the accusatory one here.

"So... you were stalking me, Reyes?" You lift a brow. "And you did come barging into my shop and lifted me into your arms before I could trip and lose my job."

That particular moment seems to make him flush and he turns his head to the side, "I... I just... you know..." Trailing off, it falls quiet.

A few moments of awkward silence make him speak up again. "I... wanted you to think I was... cool... and I didn't want you to lose your job... cause then that'd mean I wouldn't see you every day... and I'd really gotten used to it, you know? I swear. That was it."

You could almost laugh in his face. But you're a really good friend, so you don't. "... You know, that's such a you thing to do, Jaime. Idiot. I can't believe you let me think I had a super-powered creep following me around." A smile crawls onto your face, and it's almost so infectious it latches onto him.

His lips turn upwards, "Come on... don't embarrass me, chica. Is it wrong for a guy to want a girl to think both he and his alter-ego are cool?"

"You can't have 'em all." You shake your head, then turn around to look at the snow piled over the force field. "How are we gonna get out? I was heading over to your house, to start with."

"Ah... seriously?" He seems starstruck and almost dopey—but shakes his head quickly and reaches his hand out. The mask reconstructs over his face just as he grins, pearly white peeking out. "Come on, hermosa."

A few seconds later—you're being carried in his arms as he bursts out of the snow—hovering in the sky as you cling on for dear life. "Ho... Holyyyy shit! How do you do this?!"

Everything is so small under you, and you feel motion sick just looking at the top of snowy buildings. He laughs like he finds your fright amusing. "Don't worry, you're not going anywhere."

You pause, eyes focused on your hands for a second,d before you look up at him and his pure white eyes. "... Yeah I know. You did take care of me for a whole week... even if I didn't know it was you. I... never got to thank you for that, did I?"

His tone is light—amused, "Yeah. You were too busy ranting to me about your conspiracy theory."

Your cheeks burn and you slap his arm—knowing he probably didn't even feel it. "Shut up. I was right, wasn't I? Anyways, I'll thank you now. For the whole week.

You lean up and press a chaste kiss to his masked cheek—face feeling hot beneath your touch and you squeeze your eyes closed like you can't bear to look at him. "Thank you... thank you for being there, even if I didn't want you to."

He's stunned into silence for a few moments. Then, he speaks—shakily. "... Y... Yeah. Of course. A... Anything for you."

You smile, softly, "Good. Then how about we go back to your house and I can finally eat some of your abuela's cooking, then?"

"Sounds like a plan, hermosa." He grips you tighter in his hold. "And after that... I could fly you home...?" His voice trails off, expecting you to answer his half-question.

You laugh a little and nod, smiling. Arms wrapped around his shoulder tighter when you speak, "If that's the only thing you wanna do, Reyes."

Another moment of silence. Then, he hisses, seemingly flustered and angry, "Khaji—shut up!"

You give him a confused look, but he quickly speaks, "No—no, that's... I'm talking to my scarab..." Another confused glance. "I'll explain it all to you later, I promise."

"Whatever you say, beetle. Now hurry up."

He blasts off to your command and you bury your face in his chest as you rip through the snowy clouds.

Perhaps your co-workers were right, and Jaime really did get some that day.

[polysucks]

Arya "I'm not a boy!!!!" Stark vs Brienne "doesn't correct a stranger who misgenders her" of Tarth. One of these characters is trans and gee whizz I wonder which it could be.

(Additionally jaime is a gay bottom who just wants to be tenderly pegged by Brienne)

Cw for a cis-woman talking about gender lol

I want to touch on the idea that Brienne might be an egg, but I have to disagree. I want to preface by saying don’t inherently oppose anyone who thinks otherwise. Art can be interpreted subjectively, especially in ASOIAF. Everyone can have their views, and I love that.

That being said, I'm approaching this discussion about Brienne and Arya and their gender identities from the perspective of a cis-woman, so trans and gender non-conforming people, feel free to weigh in! I just have one perspective, and how else do we learn about others' experiences if we don't make time and space for others to share theirs?

Also, this might sound a bit TERF-y on a surface level, so let me say upfront: TERFs, get lost. We can discuss femininity and gender without TERF opinions, because TERF opinions don’t matter. Trans women are real women. Trans men are real men.

It’s easy to understand why some might believe that their struggles are rooted in gender identity—but that doesn’t necessarily mean the argument holds water.

I personally feel like it's dismissive of exploring gender identity as a deeply personal experience and reductive to assume that anyone who doesn’t fit neatly into gender norms must actually be trans. gender-non-comforming cis people exist because gender is a social construct.

It makes total and complete sense why someone might perceive Brienne and Arya as struggling with their gender identity, and I am not here to deny that! They do not fit into traditional femininity, they are often mistaken for boys, and they are both deeply frustrated by the roles imposed on them.

But assigning transness or gender dysphoria to them without deeper critical thinking feels like a reach that flattens their very real struggles as cis-women in such a strict society. Their battle is not one of personal identity—it’s one of a rigid community refusing to acknowledge them as women on their own terms.

That being said, there is beauty in seeing oneself in them. If a trans or gender-nonconforming person finds kinship in their struggles, that is valid and meaningful. The power of storytelling is that we see ourselves in narratives, even when the struggles and experiences depicted do not perfectly align with our own.

I feel the same way about the Northmen and the Starks being NDN/Indigenous-coded—it is not explicit canon, but the cultural parallels are undeniable. Westerosi gender roles are stricter in the South, while Northern culture—like many Indigenous cultures—allows for a broader understanding of strength, womanhood, and survival.

Brienne and Arya’s journeys are universal in that way. They do not have to be trans or gender-nonconforming to be relatable to those who are. But at their core, their stories are about expanding the definition of womanhood, not escaping it.

That being said, let's fuckin YAP!!

Brienne and Arya: Women on Their Own Terms

They Are Women Rejected by Society—Not by Themselves

Brienne and Arya defy Westerosi femininity, but their conflict is not with their own gender—it’s with a world that refuses to accept women who do not conform.

They do not reject being women. They reject the restrictions placed on them as women.

Their struggles are external, not internal—it is society that refuses to acknowledge their strength, not themselves.

Brienne's silence on misgendering is not gender dysphoria—it is indifference to the opinions of those who diminish her. She does not waste energy correcting people who already dismiss her. As for Podrick, he is not questioning her gender, only how to respectfully refer to her.

Arya, similarly, never expresses a desire to be a boy—only frustration that being a girl limits her. She says it herself in ACOK

“I don’t want to be a lady,” Arya flared. “I want to learn to fight.”

Wanting to fight does not mean she is not a girl—it means she resents that Westeros restricts girls. When she disguises herself as “Arry,” it is not because she feels like a boy but because it keeps her alive.

Being Mistaken for a Man Does Not Mean They Identify as One

Neither Brienne nor Arya (i mean, she does generally, but not whole-heartedly) corrects misgendering because it serves a purpose in their survival—but it does not define them.

Brienne is called "Ser" because she is a knight. She does not correct it because she knows Westeros will never see her as a proper lady anyway. But she never expresses a desire to be a man—only to be respected.

Arya disguises herself as a boy out of necessity. The moment she no longer needs the disguise, she drops it. She never claims she feels like a boy—only that Westeros treats girls as weak.

At no point do either of them wish to stop being women. Their struggle is not about escaping womanhood—it’s about expanding what womanhood can be.

Brienne, in particular, wants to be both a knight and a woman. Her inner conflict is not about identity, but about a world that refuses to allow her to be both.

They Do Not Seek to Escape Womanhood—They Seek to Redefine It

Brienne and Arya challenge Westerosi femininity without discarding it. They prove that womanhood is not fragile—it can be strong, honorable, and defiant.

Brienne does not wish to be a man—she wishes knighthood wasn’t exclusive to them. She embodies the ideals of knighthood more than most men, proving that a woman can live by the same code.

Arya does not wish to be a boy—she wishes being a girl didn’t mean powerlessness. She does not reject her gender; she rejects society’s expectations of it.

Their fight is not against being women—it is against a world that refuses to acknowledge that women can be more than one thing.

The Stark and Northern Perspective: Strength and Womanhood Can Coexist

Westerosi gender roles are stricter in the South, where women like Sansa are expected to conform to delicate, ornamental femininity. The North, however, values survival, strength, and practicality—traits Arya naturally embodies.

Among Indigenous-coded Northern families like House Mormont, warrior women are not questioned:

Maege Mormont and her daughters fight without forfeiting their womanhood. They are warriors, leaders, and mothers, all at once.

Arya fits into this tradition. She does not need to abandon her gender to be a warrior—she simply needs a culture that recognizes warrior women exist.

In many Indigenous cultures, gender roles exist but are flexible—some women are suited for battle, others for domestic life, and both are necessary. This aligns with Arya's arc: she does not need to be a boy to fight. She only needs a world where warrior women are possible.

Survival Shapes How They Are Perceived—Not How They See Themselves

Both Arya and Brienne are mistaken for boys, but their responses are pragmatic, not existential.

Brienne does not correct people who call her “Ser” because she knows it won’t change how they see her. She is resigned to being seen as "unnatural," so she leans into her strength rather than fighting a losing battle over perception. She wants respect, not pity.

Arya actively disguises herself as a boy because it keeps her alive. She knows that if people recognize her as a highborn girl, she will be kidnapped, sold, or killed. The disguise is a survival tactic, not a reflection of her identity.

Neither of them struggles with who they are—they struggle with how the world treats them.

They Are Women Who Break Barriers, Not Women Who Break Away from Womanhood

Brienne and Arya are not trans, nor are they struggling with gender identity. They are women who refuse to conform to narrow standards.

Brienne does not wish to be a man—she wishes men would accept that women are more than single-minded expectations

Arya does not wish to be a boy—she wishes Westeros would stop treating girls as helpless and with only one lot in life

Their battle is not with their own gender but with a world that refuses to see them as full people based on their identified gender. That is what makes them powerful.

And if trans or GNC individuals see themselves in them? That is a testament to their strength and their pride in their existence as it is.

Representation in fiction can be deeply personal, even when it isn’t literal.

That is the beauty of storytelling—there is room for all of us in it.

[leoruby-draws]

I did a whole bunch of drawings for Jason's team two weeks back, so now its time to concentrate on Steph's team! Here we've got 4 new characters for her team, with a couple extra tomorrow as well. Lets go into to them, one by one.

First up is the lantern for the group, more specifically a Violet Lantern apprentice aka Miri Riam! Her reasons for coming to earth is unknown at the moment but they seem to have some connection to Carol Ferris. Carol's also a Violet Lantern and Hal's(Green Lantern) on-and-off girlfriend and occasional antagonist. Perhaps Miri was sent to become Carol's apprentice? I've got more info on whats happening there, but thats for later.

As for why Miri was chosen for the group, I knew I wanted some kind of Lantern for the team, but couldn't find a green lantern that was both in Steph's age group and have fun interactions with them. But then I thought, does it have to be a green lantern? I had a red lantern for Jason's group after all. I looked around and found Miri! I don't know her exact age but I knew she was a young adult, so I'm just gonna have her be around Steph's age group.

The Violet Lanterns Corps are very ...enthusiastic about the power of love and Miri's no exception. She wants everyone to know the joy of Love, she's honestly kinda annoying about it. I remember this one GL issue where she was destroying a city just to get Kyle and Soranik to resolve their love troubles. That pretty much became the basis for how I'm writing Miri's personality. Like I said above, I'll get more into Miri at a later time.

Next is Maxine Hunkel aka Cyclone, granddaughter of Ma Hunkel aka the golden age Red Tornado! I already posted a drawing of her a while back, I thought she'd make a fun fit for the team. She's has such high energy and so much enthusiasm I couldn't help but find her utterly endearing. I think at a later point she'll end up joining the JSA but for now she's just having fun with this team.

Btw I thought that maybe her grandmother, Ma Hunkel, could fit a similar role that the other Red Tornado did for Young Justice, helping out a young hero team. Just a way to emphasize how Steph and Tim's teams can serve as foils to each other.

Next up is the archer of the group, Mia Dearden aka Speedy II. Tho she should probably have a different name due to Roy still being Speedy atm. Maybe Speedette? Ehhh, gotta workshop that.

Anyways here's Mia and Steph meeting as civilians, with Mia showing off her bow. Mia seems to be in some sort of school uniform, perhaps Oliver is sponsoring her to go to a fancy academy? Her backstory is similar to canon, with Oliver saving her from bad people. I'm not sure if her story should be exactly the same as canon, since Mia is 10 but terrible things like that do happen in real life to young children. But I don't know if a goofy au like mine is the best place to show that. But for now lets just say Mia is currently trying to heal and become a hero like Green Arrow.

I imagine Steph and Mia get along really well, they just get each other in a lot of ways. Steph can see Mia might be hurting inside and wants to cheer her up, hopefully with all of Mia's new friends she can.

Last up is Jaime Reyes aka Blue Beetle III. Unfortunately I haven't drawn him all that much so no individual drawing for him, tho I do like him.

As for why Jaime, I remember liking him in the YJ cartoon and found him pretty likeable in the comics as well. But I've always like the spiderman hero archetype anyways, which Jaime fits really well (I mean, it was done on purpose). Static and Sideways also fit the archetype and are in the team as well. Arguably you can say add Steph to this too, probably more than Tim in my personal opinion.

Another reason I wanted to add Jaime is that he and Steph almost became teammates in canon, in a failed Young Justice project. What could have been huh. Third reason is more silly tho, if Barbara and Ted Kord start to date in this au, imagine how grossed out Steph and Jaime will be lmao.

So there's four new teammates for the team, but! I've got a couple extra for tomorrow! And later on I hope to finally post some more doodles of these characters (some of them are real old, more than a year old). Especially Miri, she turned out to be such a fun character, and I've always liked the all the lantern corps. Here's a bonus doodle of them btw (with bonus unmasked Sideways):

So many new members, well, hope you liked all that!

[crsssie]

baby, you can find me under the lights

word count: 9.1k

warnings: slow burn, mentions of drugs

summary: Ah, it feels good to be loved.

Hard. This is. Hard.

Jaime stumbles over his words as Khaji Da warns him for his spike in heartbeat, his head spinning as you stare up at him, blinking owlishly. You look pretty. Seriously, you look gorgeous. He's stumbling over his words just to ask you where his building was. It wasn't even as if he was asking for your number! Seriously, do people like you even exist—

You tilt your head at him, blinking.

asking you to repeat yourself.

nevermind. you do.

"Ah, uh, dios mio—" He pauses. "do you know where the school of biology is? It's my first day here, and—"

You point at the building on the other side, and Jaime sighs. "Oh my god. I'm stupid, so sorry—"

You wave your hand dismissively, smile on your face.

smile holds no menace. seeming to say 'me too'

"Thank you, but really—"

You raise a brow at him.

"Not you. Well, thank you, yes, but not the latter part." He sighs. "I've had a long morning."

You wave bye to him as you rush off into the building.

"Is she mute?"

no signs of vocal cord damage

"So she just." Jaime glances down at his watch, cursing as he realizes he's about to be late to class. "I'll ignore it. Put a tab on her."

got it. unusually high levels of dopamine and adrenaline detected in bloodstream.

"Ignore it." Jaime mumbles. "I just think she's cute."

In retrospect, Jaime has no idea why he would need to keep a tab on you, but he finds it especially helpful when he's met face to face with who the scarab calls you, except it's not really you, it's some person with flamboyant makeup drawn over their face, and Khaji Da insists it's you. All Jaime can notice is how you're a metahuman, a voice as honeyed as a siren's. He shakes his head to try and break free of your voice.

"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" You tilt your head at him, setting him down as you soar back to the supervillain. His jaw stays open before he closes it, realizing the situation.

"Khaji."

a metahuman

"Well, I can't have her fight alone, can I?" Jaime sighs as his armor clasps on, flying next to you, lending you a hand as he blocks a punch. "Having trouble?"

"Appreciate the help." You smile, landing a kick to the villain's face, stepping on it as you send him into the ground. The back of your heel causes a crack to ring and the man's face to cave in, and Jaime stares, eyes wide as Khaji Da tells him that the man's alive and has a high chance of survival. "Are you visiting? Does my city owe a member of the Justice League something?"

"No," Jaime shakes his head. "I... I live here now. I just moved."

"You... alright." You mumble. "For all I know, you could be moving here for retirement."

"Hey, I am not that old." Jaime gasps. "I'm—"

Khaji Da stops him before he can reveal his age. A smarter choice. Jaime really needs to fix his blurting problem.

You raise a brow at him, leaning closer, tilting your head. "You're...?"

"Uh, top secret information." He smiles, trying his best to focus on your face and not the way you were practically sticking on him. It was bad enough that he thought you were cute. He did not need another reason for being head over heels in love with you. Seriously, he's not the type for love at first sight, what kind of witchery do you have?!

You huff, leaning back. "Alright. You do you."

"Are there many villains here?"

"Not really. Just pigface here." You point at the man under you. "Though, you'll probably bring in your fair share of supervillains, huh?"

"I don't have that many."

"Still have some." You hum. "Alright. See you around, beetle boy. I wouldn't recommend sticking around. The police kinda hate us."

Jaime looks at the unconscious man as you fly. "Wait, do we—"

The police arrive as he's cut off, and he races off himself. He did not want a bullet shot at him, but he also did not want to deal with the police so early on in a new city. That could be saved for some time that wasn't right now.

Besides, he has his bio seminar to get to. Seriously, what is with him and arriving late to class?

Turns out, Jaime bumps into you much more than he thinks is coincidental.

First, the two of you bump into each other at the cafeteria, then the two of you meet at the library, then at the gym, and then you share a building at the dorms? Seriously, what is with the two of you and meeting? At this point he might as well call one of you a stalker, and it is most certainly not him. He doesn't think it's you either, especially with how unnerved you are while bumping into him. All you do is wave hello with a small smile and head the other way. Seriously, he was looking creepy. You were cute, he did NOT want to be scaring you off before he could even befriend you. Besides, it's not like his body is— it's... Khaji Da, isn't it.

"¿hermano, la estás acosando?" Jaime mumbles to the scarab. boy, are you stalking her?

I don't know what you're talking about

"'kay, can we cut it down? Seriously, I'd like to not see her every day."

I thought you liked her.

"Thinking someone is cute does not equate to liking them." He groans, swiping his student ID to get his lunch.

I am simply creating more opportunities for the two of you to meet

"Can you not control my body for something like this?" He takes his salad, running a hand through his hair as he crashes into someone. "Oh, I am sosorry—"

You blink up at him, shaking your head.

she says it's fine

"Are you sure? Let me know if I can do anything to make it up to you, really." Jaime nods.

You wave your hand, dismissing him as you head upstairs to find an empty table.

increased heart rate detected

"Oh, dios, please be quiet." Jaime rushes out of the cafeteria, embarrassment all over his face, cheeks flushed with blood.

As he reaches his dorm, he hears the sound of something going off almost comically, and he freezes. Didn't you mention that there weren't many supervillains other than the guy that was arrested recently? Come on.

The cafeteria you were just at. No signs of human damage. The girl is fighting.

Jaime sets his salad down, opening the window, and jumping out, his suit sending him straight to the cafeteria, blasting a piece of wood out of the way as your hand finds itself around the man's throat as Jaime sets down next to you.

"I thought you said there weren't many supervillains here?" Jaime's arm shifts into a taser as he presses it to the man, knocking him out.

"But plenty of frustrated college students." You smile at him. "this one tried bombing the building."

Jaime blinks.

heartbeat steady. Not lying.

"What's your name, by the way?"

"Wouldn't you like to know, beetle boy." You roll your eyes.

"Do you not have a name?"

You tilt your head at him. "And if I do?"

"Why won't you tell me?"

"Who knows. Maybe you'll commit identity fraud." You smile, tapping his chest twice. "Though, you seem a little too tall to steal my identity."

"I won't, so could I please know the name of the partner I'll be working with to fight crime?" Jaime holds his hand out for you, leaning down slightly to stare at you.

"Kinda hard to tell sincerity through those gorgeous yellow eyes of yours, beetle." You give him your hand anyway, shaking it. "Unidentified. Though, the police like calling me Euterpe."

"Like the greek muse?"

"Yeah. In charge of music and stuff." You shrug. "You're just blue beetle because of the suit, huh?"

"Yeah." He pauses. "Are the police coming?"

"They always are." You hum. "Two minutes, maybe."

"How do they know when you don't call?"

"I don't need to." You tilt your head slightly. You point at the students outside the building that Jaime had passed. "They do."

"Are you the school mascot or something?"

"Time's up." You smile. "Alright beetle boy, time to get going."

You speed off into the air as Jaime chases after you. "You didn't answer my question!"

"You have a lot of questions for someone who's just arrived." You come to an abrupt stop as Jaime freezes into place.

"Seriously, how has the Justice League not cataloged you? They sent me a list of everyone in the city and—"

"God, B's just as crazy as I remember him being." You grimace. "I'm not on the catalog— too secretive for his liking. B would really rather not catalog me."

"Why's that."

You pause. "I have a handful of mutant genes instead of just one. Weird superpowers come with all of them. If you really want my file, go find Red Robin at the Titans' tower. He ran a whole sampling of my DNA and everything. The Titans Archive has my file."

"Why doesn't Batman have it?"

"Mm..." You pause. "No time?"

"That man is retired. You have to have a better explanation than just that."

"Can we take it to the dorms? I'm at the point where I think you know who I am anyway." You sigh. "You keep bumping into me on a campus this big. You're practically stalking me."

"I'm not—"

"You're going to have to prove that to me. I see you everywhere." You sigh. "I have a single complex, come on."

"Did you win the lottery?"

"You can do a lot with a voice like mine." You drop onto the roof, suit coming off as you do.

"How'd you get that off?"

"Illusion magic."

"Seriously, you're practically a green lantern." He grimaces. "Or a magician."

"Your suit just came off too, you know?" You raise a brow, swiping your ID. "Does the beetle do that? Can I see the beetle?"

"Next thing I know you'll be asking me to strip for you." Jaime jokes.

"Oh, well, not that I'd be against that, but—" You shut up when you pass a student.

"At least you have a filter." He mumbles.

"How old are you anyway? I was going to ask if you were a fourth year, but from the way you don't know where the bio building is, there's no way you are." You glance at the signs.

"First year."

"Oh, so like, fresh out of high school?"

"No, I took a gap year." he hums. "Now I'm trying to finish college and get into dental school."

"Oooh, big dreams." You mumble. "I'll let you practice on me when you're in dental school."

"It isn't cosmetology, you know?"

"Eh." You shrug. Your keys materialize in your hand as you unlock the door to your dorm. "The fake teeth can only last you for so long. Welcome to my dorm."

"What kind of luck do you have?"

"I told you. My voice." You smile. "Would you like to see it in action? Have the scarab read my lips for you. You'll need earplugs. What's your Starbucks order?"

"A cappuccino. Wh-what are you doing?" Jaime chases after you as you step out of your apartment again, knocking on the door across the hall. You toss him earplugs with a wink, knocking on your neighbor's door. Jaime puts them in as he watches you.

"What?" A guy opens the door, visibly annoyed.

Your lips part, sickly sweet words spilling down your tongue, and Khaji Da speaks.

"could you get me a grande cappuccino and sweetened peach green tea from the Starbucks downstairs? Set it by my door and knock when you finish, please?" You bat your lashes at him twice, and the guy blinks back.

Jaime watches in shock as something glazes over the guy's eyes and he nods at you, heading inside and coming out with his phone in hand, locking his door as he heads down the hall.

"That's one of my abilities." You smile. You reach for the plugs in his ears, and he flinches back slightly, pulling them out himself. "Sorry. Am I too much?"

"It's really hard to have a normal heartbeat around someone like you."

"Honored you would think of me as hot." You smile. "Do you want anything to eat? I cook."

"You got tamales?"

"Oh, I do! I just dropped by one of the cultural clubs' president's house, and she came back with a bag of them. I just don't know how to cook them. Care to help?" You rummage through your freezer, brows furrowed. "Here. Yeah?"

Jaime holds his hand out for you to hand it to him, and he hums. "You got a steamer?"

"Top cabinet on the left of the stove." You hum.

"Do they make you pay utilities here?"

"No." You hum. "Which is why I keep the lights and AC on the entire day. I only turn off the lights in my room when I sleep."

"How much... is it a year?"

You visibly freeze, closing the fridge. "I'd rather not discuss that."

"A lot?"

"I don't look at the bill when I send all of it as fake invoices to Wayne Enterprises." You laugh awkwardly, pulling the steamer out.

warning: rapid heart rate increase.

"Yes, Khaji, I know." He mumbles through his teeth.

"Hm?"

"No, not you." He smiles. "How do I put this? I have a scarab in my back."

"Oh, I know." You smile. "It's pretty... visible when you're at the gym. there's like a huge bump on your back."

"You look at me at the gym?!"

"Hard not to when your back muscles look like that. You got a routine I can follow?" You wiggle your brows jokingly.

"Um, lifting seven hundred pounds worth of metal when a skyscraper falls over."

"Oh, I don't need to do that." You shrug. "I just tell the metal to get out of the way."

"Your voice works on more than just humans?"

You puff your cheeks, looking to the side. "Yes?"

"Do you have like, some cosmic control over the universe or something?"

"I could pull a my little pony princess celestia and tell the sun to go down right now." You bat your lashes innocently.

Jaime blinks owlishly, fear in the back of his mind, confusion on his face. You can what. What in the Mary Sue self insert is that voice of yours? It was like God himself made you extra special, even down to the genetics. A metahuman could have powers that strong? Though, how did you even discover that you could make the sun set? Something else snaps at the thought of your voice being so powerful. Can you command... food to cook?

"Couldn't you just cook the tamales with your voice?"

"I've never really tried that." You pause. "I don't know what works and doesn't work, I just know that I can make the sun set and moon rise."

"YOU'VE TRIED!?"

You ignore him, pulling out a tamale. "Cook, please?"

You toss it in the air as it gets hot instantly, and before Jaime can react, Khaji Da is sending his body to grab a plate and catch the tamale. You blink as Jaime catches it (just barely) and the two of you exhale in relief as Jaime sets the plate down. You blink at the bag and then at the piping hot tamale on the plate, jaw-dropping.

"I never have to cook ever again." You mumble. "Oh my god... this is a revelation. This is so much easier than I ever thought it'd be."

"Though, it might be better to cook it on a plate next time." Jaime mumbles, setting the plate down.

burn detected on left hand.

Jaime grabs your wrist, unfolding your hand as he stares at the wound. "It's hurt."

"Oh, I can just—"

"Do you want me to wrap it for you?" Jaime stares at you, eyes gentle, and your heart soars. Holy fuck he's cute. Yeah, screw the voice thing, he's wrapping it up for you. You're gonna take advantage of this. God, you're going to combust. Holy shit, was someone allowed to look this cute? You need to go outside and touch grass, holy shit.

"Y-yeah! Sure!" You blink, eyes wide. "Please. Thank you. I'll uh, give me a second." You stare at the cabinet. "Open, please."

The cabinet door opens.

"First aid kit, land on the counter, please?"

The kit lands, and you call to close the cabinet as there's a knock on the door. Jaime lets go of your hand, turning to go to the door.

"I'll get i—" You place a hand on Jaime's shoulder, shaking your head.

"Stay, please."

Jaime finds himself stuck in place as you open the door, a smile on your face as you take the drinks.

"Do you need anything else?" It's the same guy as before.

"Nope." You smile. "Thank you."

Jaime watches as the man's eyes return to normal, a confused look on his face as he raises a brow at you.

"Should, I, uh, pay you back for the drinks? How much was it?" You blink prettily at him, and Jaime's heart stops when the guy waves you off.

heart rate quickened. indicated attraction to her.

Holy fuck, were you using pretty privilege on your flatmate?

He leaves eventually, and you place the drinks on the counter. "A hot cappuccino during summer?"

"There's AC in your dorm." Jaime mumbles. "Did you use pretty privilege on him?"

"Oh, silly boy." You laugh. "Everyone thinks I'm the most attractive person ever."

"How?" Jaime tries moving, realizing you had put him in place. "Can I be freed?"

"Thank you for staying still." You smile.

"You don't want a tamale?" He opens the first-aid kit, pulling out the bandages and gauze.

"After I burned myself? I'd rather not." You wince as Jaime disinfects the burn.

"How'd you manage to burn yourself?"

"Erm... not sure!" You hum. "but I cooked the tamale."

"Let's cook it the normal way next time." Jaime mumbles. "You want me to cook anything?"

"Can you cook?"

"Yes, most definitely." Jaime wraps your wound gently, brows pulled into a worried frown. "worked at my tía's diner over summer during my gap year."

"Wow, sounds fun." You hum.

"You ever worked?"

"No." You mumble. "My work is my superhero business. I have a gofundme to help. You'd be surprised at how long of a way a little fanservice goes. Can you just boil me some soft eggs?"

"Runny yolk?"

"Semi." You hum. "I have a sauce in the fridge to marinate the eggs in. Thank you."

"Do you enjoy cooking? You have every single sauce and spice I can imagine." Jaime rummages through your cabinet. "Also, what did you mean earlier by everyone thinks you're the most attractive person ever?"

"Beauty is subjective— yeah, I like cooking— so if I tell myself that I want to be the prettiest person in the world, then everyone sees me slightly differently. It's a little manipulative, but it gets the job done." You mumble.

"What about the creeps?"

"I can fight." You hum.

"Is there a reason you need to come off as that way?"

"Only when I'm in suit." You hum. "I look perfectly plain when I'm out of the superhero face."

"And what's this fanservice of yours?"

You smile, your cheeks pulling up but your eyes unchanged. "My onlyfans is linked on my twitter."

Jaime chokes as he turns off the sink, neck-snapping to look at you. "W-what?"

"That was a joke." You hum. "It's just a gofundme. I'm... I'm close with a good number of fans. It's like Superman, you catch my drift?"

"He does have a good relationship with the citizens of Metropolis."

"Yeah, and Batman's hated by all." You snort. "That's a joke. Gotham would kill for that man."

"They would?"

"Ask a Gothamite what they think about Batman and you get an annoyed grunt, but lasso them with the lasso of truth, and they'll admit that they're actually grateful for the man." You lean on the palm of your head. "Thank you for making me the most attractive person ever."

Nothing changes for Jaime as he blinks at you. He blinks a couple more times at you, wondering if his eyes were deceiving him, but you look the exact same. The realization causes a smile to break onto his face slowly, eyes warm and affectionate as he looks at you. You're already pretty to him. How beautiful.

"So? You like how I look?"

"You look the same." Jaime hums, jumping when the water nearly boils over, opening the cap as he places the eggs in. "shit."

You laugh, chest flushed with warmth, shy smile on your lips. Your chest feels overwhelmingly full, like a piece of it that had been lost was returned to you, making you whole again. God, he can't just say that to you and expect you to not fall for him. You grimace inwardly. Falling at the slight sign of affection. How classic of you. Though, your chest is warm, and that was always a good feeling to have. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." He blinks at you.

increasing heart rate—

"Please, not now." He hisses.

"Does the beetle speak?"

"To me." Jaime mumbles. "He's like a voice in my head."

"Could I suggest putting an earbud in to pretend you're on the phone so you don't look insane?"

Jaime pauses. "Huh. I've never considered that."

"Yeah." You mumble. "It gets people off your ass."

"How come you don't speak when you're walking around?" He raises a brow. "I thought you were mute until the scarab identified you as the hero."

You shrug. "It's easier."

"Easier for what?"

You shrug. "People don't talk to you much when you don't speak."

"Do you want me to peel the eggs for you?" Jaime lifts the pot into the sink.

"Oh, no, it's fine. Thank you." You hum, getting out of the seat. You wave him off as you pour the water out, focusing on the eggs. "Peel the shell off cleanly, please."

The eggshells detach perfectly, and you open your fridge, pulling out the sauce.

"Are you in any clubs?"

"Acapella Choir and Writer's United." You mumble. "I also hang out with the kids in musical theater."

"I forgot that was a major here."

"We're a surprisingly art-oriented school for one with such a good stem program." You seal the container again, putting it in the fridge. "Clean yourselves, please."

The dishes turn clean with a swirl, and you place them in the dish machine to dry.

"What's the magic word?" Jaime raises a brow.

You smile. "Can't say it."

"Why not?"

"Then it'll come true." You hum. "I think you've listened enough times for it."

"How come you don't fight crime with it?" He hums. "Your voice would do wonders."

You hum. "It wears my voice out."

"Do you speak to your professors?"

"Yeah?" You raise a brow.

"But you don't speak to students?"

"I speak when necessary." You shrug.

"So telling me where the bio building wasn't necessary?"

"No." You sigh. "Of course not. Oh, right. I never learned your civilian name. I can't just keep calling you beetle boy."

"Jaime. Jaime Reyes." He holds his hand out for you, and you take it, your own name spilling past your lips.

Jaime finds that you're not as much of a red flag as you came off as. You bump into him every now and then, nodding as you do, and then you rush off for your classes. Jaime only ever gets to speak to you while on duty, wrestling the criminals to the ground as you knock them out. He doesn't get to speak to you very much— the police have gotten much faster with arriving at the scene of the crime. Usually, by the time he's chased after you, you've already detransformed and gone to class. Seriously, your schedule is appalling. How many units are you even taking?

"Alright, I know you're in there. Come on, open up." Jaime knocks on your door for the nth time, and you finally, finally open it, sighing at him.

"What do you want?"

"To hang out? Seriously, I haven't made any friends since coming here other than you, and that's only because you and I fight crime together!"

"That does not sound like a me problem." You deadpan.

"I brought tea."

"Oh, why didn't you start with that?" You open the door fully, letting Jaime in. "I'll let you chill for a bit, but I have somewhere to go in a little."

"Where? It's 7pm on a Tuesday." He sets the tea on the counter, raising a brow.

"Frat party starts at 8 but you're technically supposed to get there starting 9. No one ever goes on time." You hum. "Did you want to stay the night?"

"No. That'd be a little..." He pauses. "Mami raised a man better than that."

You bark out a laugh. "That's sweet. Thank your mom for that, please. Not many women end up with such sweethearts of children."

"Are you calling me a sweetheart?" Jaime grins.

"Mm, sure." You hum. "Much better than half of the men on campus, that's for sure."

"Why are you going to a frat party?"

"For the vibes." You hum. "I also got news that something was going to happen there, so you gotta be prepared, you know? It's halfway across campus."

"Should I go?"

"If you want." You hum. "Give me a sec, I'll move everything to the island."

"Do you need help?" He cranes his neck as you disappear into the corridor.

"I'll be fine." You call.

Jaime watches as you move a bag and mirror onto the table, and he watches in silence as you start your makeup.

spike of dopamine in bloodstream. hermano, do something. ask her out.

"No!" Jaime hisses. "she's going to think it's creepy!"

"What's creepy?" You raise a brow at him, amusement on your lips.

"Nothing! Khaji is speaking." Jaime avoids your eyes.

"Is that the beetle's name?" You go back to the makeup.

"Yes."

You hum back, finishing with your makeup, pausing.

"Couldn't you have the magic do it?"

"Yeah, but," You sigh. "it only knows how to do my hero look."

"It's taught?"

"I can make it copy images on a screen, but I dont have that many products to work off of." You hum. "You want me to do your makeup?"

"I'm good." Jaime mumbles. "Is a frat party even safe?"

"Depends on the person. Is it icky? Yes. Is it fun to feel individualization in a crowd of strangers? Also yes." You hum.

"Don't you get hit on if you..." He pauses. "no. you're not in costume."

"I sure am going to get hit on if I transform, though." You hum. "It's happened before. They like spiking poison or toxins in frat party drinks. Can Khaji Da scan water for toxins?"

yes.

"He said yes." Jaime mumbles.

"Then go with me?" You smile at him awkwardly. "Please? Maybe you'll make friends there too. Hm? Didn't you come in complaining about how you didn't know anyone here?"

Jaime sighs. "I'm not drinking, though."

"Oh, yeah. Your boundaries still matter, obviously." You pause. "Don't Mexican families throw huge parties and drink there?"

"Sorry, let me rephrase that. I'm not drinking frat house beverages." Jaime corrects himself. "Someone's saliva could be in it for all I know."

"'kay, yeah, that makes sense." You mumble. "Are you just going to go in that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Mm." You think for a moment, staring at Jaime. "You know what. Yeah. The shirt's fine. Unbutton two buttons and you'll be fine."

"Huh?"

"Do you need me to do it?" You raise a brow. "They won't let you in if you look too formal, but they also won't let you in if you look too casual. Well, that's a lie. They'd let you in if you were in a tank top, but since you can't... at least try and look like a frat boy."

"I'm hurt." Jaime scoffs as you step close to him.

"Can I?"

"Do what you must."

You reach a hand into his hair, messing it up first, blinking slowly at his face. Jaime holds his breath as you're practically stuck on him, chest pressed to his, and he swears his heartbeat is scarily quick right now. He stares down at your eyes as you stare at his hair, fingers pulling gently to mess it up more than it was. In fact, he should be—

warning: quickened heart beat.

There it is.

Jaime curses under his breath, and you stop, blinking up at him as he leans back.

"Hm?"

"That's the scarab. My heart's beating too fast." He avoids your gaze again, looking up at the ceiling.

"So like, a defense mechanism?" You tilt your head. "Can I... unbutton your shirt slightly?"

"Yeah, uh, sure." He holds his breath as you slide it open slightly, freezing in place when you stare at his chest for a little too long. "You alright?"

"Yeah." You mumble, pulling away, hiding your face. "Yeah. I'm fine. God."

detected increased heart rate.

"You sure?" He tilts his head to get a better look at you, noticing your skin has flushed darker. Ah. So you were flustered too.

"You wanna go?" You finally speak up. "We should get going. It's across town."

"We can fly there. Well, you can."

"I'm not flying for a frat party."

"And you'll walk?"

"At least I won't be drunk." You mumble. "Besides, I can just sleep on one of the benches here. At least we don't have anti-homeless architecture on this campus."

"What's with all the crime on campus anyway?"

"Oh, you didn't know? Everyone here is tied into crime in some way." You smile, opening your fridge. "there's correlation between creativity and sociopathic tendencies, after all."

Jaime blinks slowly. "What."

stable heart beat. Not lying.

"Heros end up desensitized too." You pull out the whipped cream, squirting it right into your mouth as you swallow. You lick your lips as you set the bottle back into the fridge."Come on."

The school is shaped more and more like a prison, Jaime thinks. The architecture is shooting proof, and all the windows are bulletproof. He wasn't sure if it was because of safety worries or the amount of crime. The school wasn't known for crime, so it was a little strange being told that petty crime was common in the school. Well, maybe it was. It's probably less than whatever's going on in Gotham anyway.

"Is... petty crime common here?" Jaime winces at how uncertain he sounds.

"It's..." You pause. "It's not that common, actually. It just seems that ever since you came, our crime rate has gone up."

"Pinning the blame on me?" Jaime fakes offense.

"Yeah." You joke. "Any plans on how to make friends?"

"Any tips?"

"Find the people who are in the corner." You mumble. "Or something. I don't know. Get to know people over drinks. Just have the beetle scan the drinks for anything bad for you."

"What should I not touch?"

"The punch. The beer is usually fine. The beer tends to be canned."

"And the vodka?"

"It's alright. I take a shot of punch for liquid confidence, though." You hum. "But today I can't. I'll just have to shoot straight vodka."

"Or you could just, not drink?"

You shrug, getting to the door of the house, a guy greeting you.

"Ay! You're back!" He grins.

You grin back. "I brought a friend today. That's alright, right?"

"For you, sugarlips? Always."

You lick your lips, winking as you step into the house, Jaime in tow, his hand in yours.

half of the people here's bloodstream have high concentration of alcohol already. beware.

"Got it." Jaime mumbles, following behind you as you squeeze through the crowd. He gets a couple of looks, raised brows in interest and flirty winks. He wonders if you get this often too. Well, if you came and went looking like that, then surely you would. Maybe that's why everyone calls you a nickname. Jaime grows frustrated as he thinks of it. Did you have someone else?

"Sugarlips!" A guy wraps an arm around your shoulder, smiling. "Come back for more?"

"Brought a friend today." You point at Jaime.

The guy doesn't even bother looking at Jaime. "Your boy?"

"Not quite." You smile. "Hands off of him, though. You wouldn't mind telling the girlies that, would you?"

"No worries." He gives you a wink. "Should I tell the boys to keep their hands off too?"

Jaime nods at you, squeezing your hand gently.

"Please." you lick your lips, a smile on your face.

"Watch the punch for me, will you? Don't want anyone drugging it."

"We'll watch the punch." You nod.

"Of course, sugar." He laughs, nodding at Jaime as he heads back into the crowd.

"Well?" You tilt your head at Jaime as he stares at the punch.

Stick your finger in it for more thorough analysis. I can't tell anything without contact.

"Need a cup."

You grab a red solo cup, scoop the drink without the ladle and hand it to him. Jaime blinks twice at the liquid before giving up. Oh well, it's a frat party. What can he do about it?

"Is it always this messy?" Jaime sticks his finger in, waiting for the analysis.

"Occasionally it's worse." You hum. "So? Did you find anything?"

Unknown aphrodisiac toxin detected. Rohypnol drug detected. Liquid alcohol content 37%.

"Rophynol and an unknown aphrodisiac." Jaime repeats. "Alcohol content is 37%."

"Remove the flunitrazepam from the punch, please." You mumble quietly, the water swirling slowly from people's drinks. The powder hangs in the air as you open a plastic bag. "put the flunitrazepam into the bag, please." The powder swirls into the bag, and Jaime watches as you tuck it into your pocket. The crowd of people with drinks don't notice at all, not even when something bubbles out of their drinks.

"Then?" He raises a brow.

"Go have fun." You hum, flicking the cap off of the vodka. "Or have Khaji Da scan the people to figure out who decided to put the date rape drug in the punch, but not my problem." You pour yourself a shot. "I already figured it out when I walked in."

You tilt your head as you watch the vodka pour into the glass, eyes glistening as you do, eyes gentle and tired, and Jaime finds something in your eyes. He's not quite sure what it is, the spotty lights in the living room painting your skin different colors, but there's something about you, he supposes. Even in the way he takes your outfit in, finally, staring too hard at your face. Reds and greens dance across it, leading down to your shoulder. Something glistening on your arm catches his attention.

"You have powder on your shoulder." He reaches to wipe it. "who was it?"

"It's fine." You brush him off, putting the vodka back on the table. "Want a shot?"

Jaime furrows his brows, your name slipping past his lips. "who was it?"

Your name sounds like honey coming from him as you down the shot. God, you were down bad.

"Seriously, who is it?" Jaime knows at this point, only one person had touched your shoulder, but he wants to hear it from your mouth.

"Guy who had his hand on my shoulder. That's why he asked me to guard the drinks. Be right back." You smile at him, slipping into the crowd, going to find the girl he had his hands on.

Jaime tries following after you but loses you in the crowd, grimacing. You were probably looking for the guy who drugged everyone. "Khaji. Find her."

upstairs bedroom second on the left.

Jaime squeezes past the crowd to try and find you. If the guy was capable of drugging the punch, then god knows what he was capable of doing to you if you went alone. Sure, you can fight, but what if something does happen? He didn't want you getting hurt, even if he knew you could fight without a problem.

sounds like you like the girl

"Khaji, can you please," He slams the door open, staring as you have the man on the ground, heel pressed on his windpipe, the girl still unconscious on the bed. Jaime lets out a breath in relief as he steps over to you, Spanish spilling past his lips before he can think too much. "gracias a dios. ¿mi vida, qué demonios estás haciendo? ¡No huyas solo!" thank god. my life, what are you doing? Don't run off by yourself!

You blink in surprise as he breaks into scolding in Spanish, grabbing you by the arms, tilting your head to get a proper look for any bruises that could have landed on you, cursing you out for running off on your own, and you blink trying to keeping up with his words. At some point you press a hand over his mouth, pointing down at the man under you. Jaime follows your finger, remembering that you're stepping on a man's neck. You... crazy. Only you. He hears Khaji Da laugh in his head.

"We've really got a knack for speaking when you have a man's throat under your foot, huh?" Jaime mumbles, furrowing his brows. "Let him go."

"You called me mi vida." You press your chest to his, staring at him, batting your lashes. The pet name sends blood rushing to your head, drunk on the way it sounded so sweet falling from his lips. Did he mean it? Did he mean it when he called you his life? "Did you mean it?"

"It slipped out."

from your unconscious maybe.

"Khaji, shut up." Jaime hisses, face impossibly flushed. "Get off the man before he dies."

You step off of him, the man long passed out.

"Is he still breathing?"

breathing: stable

Jaime exhales quietly.

"So? Mi vida?" You smile cheekily, pointing at yourself. "Am I tu vida?"

Jaime tries avoiding the topic. You're a little tipsy right now. "You literally had a single shot. How are you already–"

blood alcohol content from breath: .06

"Seriously?!" Jaime grimaces as you stare up at him, expecting an answer, cheeks puffed out and frown on his face. "Will you get off of me if I say yes?"

"Depends if you're being honest." You grin, pressing your ear to his chest, listening to his heartbeat. "Push me off if you're uncomfortable."

"Seriously, you're drunk. You're probably not even conscious of half of the stuff you're doing." Jaime peels you from him, throwing you over his shoulder.

"EEK!! I'm being carried like a sack of potatoes!" You shriek, laughing. The alcohol is really messing with your brain. "I'll stay in the room. Go call for the guy at the door we greeted earlier. He'll know how to deal with this."

"I thought frathouses let things like this slide?" He sets you down on the bed next to the girl.

"Not this one. Especially not when he actually planned on doing something." You beam at him, eyes closed, lips quirked upward. "So, could you?"

"If you say the magic word." He tilts his head. He could have a little fun with you.

"That would make it a command." You mumble. "How about something I can give you? Go make a friend downstairs. Give him a friend, p—"

Jaime presses his hand to your mouth. "I don't need the help, thank you."

You blink slowly at him, licking his palm.

"Where'd you even learn that?!" He pulls his had away with a grimace.

"Go get the guy at the door." You groan. "I want to leave if you aren't going to make any friends."

"I'll take you home and then come back to make some friends if you really want me to." Jaime mumbles.

"It'll be too late by then. The police are coming soon."

"Huh?"

"Noise complaints." You shrug. "They break up around 1 or 2 am, so it'll be soon."

"It's been that long?!"

"Go get the guy from the door!" You land in the bed with a thud, sighing. "God, before I kiss you or something. Hurry up."

"Huh?" Jaime freezes in his tracts, turning around to stare at you.

"Don't you wanna know why they call me sugarlips?" You pout, resting your pinky on your bottom lip as you jut it out. You pull it down with a pop, blood rushing to Jaime's head as you do. He needs to leave before he does something to you. God, his self-control could only last him so long.

"That's definitely the alcohol talking." Jaime mumbles frantically, shutting the door behind him. His ears and face feel eerily warm despite being sober.

Ugh, you were a force to be reckoned with.

He hauls you out eventually, flying you to the dorm instead of walking, worried that you'd get hit on, even as he unlocks the door with his ID, you mumble quietly, half-asleep, half-conscious.

"Wake up. I don't know where your key is." Jaime shakes you gently. "Come on."

"Call me mi vida again." You whisper.

He complies, setting you down, a hand around your waist for support. "Mi vida, get your key, will you?"

You fish out the key, unlocking the dorm room. "Wanna stay the night?"

"I'm two floors down. It's fine." He mumbles.

key replication made

"What." Jaime freezes at Khaji's update. "excuse me?"

"Hm?" You raise a brow, door half-open.

"Not you. Shower and go to sleep when you get in." He sighs. "Yeah?"

"Can I have a goodbye ki—"

Jaime shoves you into your dorm, slamming the door closed as he holds it in place, heart racing, cheeks flushed, lips parted as he desperately tries to catch his breath. God. You are such a force to be reckoned with. He's going to get a heart attack with you around sometime. You're twice as bad when you're drunk. But hell did he want to kiss you. Too bad you were drunk. He couldn't think of taking advantage of you like that, even if you were the one who asked.

Jaime makes a mental note to keep you away from alcohol next time.

The next time you see Jaime, the two of you are actually fighting someone again. Your suit is on, your voice stopping the metal from slamming onto the civilians as you evacuate them. Jaime focuses on the man himself, hand transforming into a blaster as he shoots at the villain. Didn't you say most of the crime was minuscule in comparison with other cities? Well, this was minuscule compared to how many beetles he's fought because of who he was. At least there weren't other beetles in the city.

"I thought you said there weren't supervillains in this city!" He yells at you, voice coming out altered.

"They don't come often!" You yell, turning your attention to the metal. "Fall, please."

The metal slams down onto the ground as you tackle Jaime out of the way.

"Why did you let it fall?!"

"I can't hold things up for too long my throat hurts!" You shriek, turning to face the floating criminal." Pass out, right now, please!"

The supervillain drops on the ground with a thud, and you exhale, faceplanting into Jaime's suit with a sigh. You stay there for a couple of seconds, catching your breath, groaning as you finally sit up straight. Jaime can feel the plush of your skin despite the suit's barrier, and it is not something to feel while the adrenaline after a fight dissolves in his system.

"It was that easy!?" He rests on his arms, suit scanning the unconscious criminal.

"My throat hurts." You mumble, walking over to where the criminal was passed out. "Two minutes until police come."

"I'll fly you." He sits up with you, linking his arms behind your back and under your legs, wings fluttering as he soars into the sky. "Who pays reparation fees?"

"Taxes." You cough. "Ow."

"Stop talking!"

"Stop asking me questions— heUG." You reach to grab your throat, grimacing.

"Alright. Stop talking until we can figure out how to get your voice back without killing you." He groans. "At this point we might as well live on the dorm roof."

You grimace.

"Was your throat damaged when we met the first day?"

You shake your head.

"Oh, so you just hated me."

You lunge at him, annoyed.

initiating rough translation... "Are you crazy!? Do you know how much energy it takes to knock a supervillain out with my voice? You think I'm superman?! I didn't hate you the first day, I just didn't think it was worth the effort!"

"Don't lunge at me while I'm flying!" Jaime shrieks, nearly dropping you as he lands on the roof with a crash. "I didn't know! I can't analyze your entire genetic structure just from looking at you, you know?!"

"would you like to see me naked, then?"

"NO!" Jaime yells, leaning back as you shift on his lap. "Dios, now everyone's going to know that I landed on the roof. Hurry up on back to your place now."

"Jaime, pretty boy."

"What?" He tries to ignore the way the back of his head rushes with warmth at the pet name.

"I can't detransform without my voice."

Jaime freezes in place, blinking at you slowly as he lunges to grab you by the shoulders. "Speak. Detransform right now—"

"I CAN'T."

"You know," Jaime pauses. "I'm impressed that you can tell, Khaji. How are you reading her body language so well?"

unlike you, I have been observing her body language. she is a suitable person for you to date.

"WHAT." Jaime chokes, coughing to get the spit caught in his throat out. You jolt as he rests his head on your chest, coughing profusely.

Jaime, I need to see her in order to translate. Though, her heartbeat is abnormally fast.

Jaime looks up at you, where you're looking down at him, lips parted in embarrassment, eyes wide with confusion, skin flushed with warmth. Jaime probably doesn't look much better under the suit right now, his own heart fighting to break through his ribcage. You're just... so pretty. He stares at you a little too hard, eyes drinking in your figure, forgetting how close you are to him.

"Can I kiss you?"

That cuts Jaime out of his thoughts as he leans away from you. "I did not need to hear you ask if you could kiss me with the scarab's voice."

You blink at him owlishly, mischief dancing in your eyes.

"No." He answers. "Not with Khaji's voice asking me."

"will you go on a d—"

"NOT WITH HIS VOICE ASKING ME!" Jaime cries.

You grin at him cheekily, scooching close to press yourself to his chest again. You rest your cheek on his chest, lips curling upward as you bat your lashes. You like messing with him, he finds.

"Then my own?" Your lips pull further up, and Jaime swallows while staring at your lips.

"You didn't lose your voice?" He stumbles over himself as you blink.

"Not quite. It hurt for a bit, but my self-healing ability is quite impressive too. So?" You hum. "Can I?"

"Yeah, sure, mi vida," He mumbles, the helmet on his head coming off as he presses his lips to yours, lashes fluttering as your body arches to sink into him. His hand wraps around your wrist as he leans a little more in to get a better taste of your lips, another hand moving to the back of your head, tilting it as he stares at you through his lashes. He understands your nickname now, your lips do taste sweet, even when you haven't downed whipped cream. Ugh, he could spend eternity just making out with you, slowly, gently, without a care in the world. He pulls gently on your hair, leaning further in as he licks your bottom lip, exhaling more as his tongue darts past your pretty lips into your mouth. Your hand moves to press on his chest, whimpering as he tugs on your hair a little too hard.

You're just so pretty to him.

He lets out a sigh of satisfaction as you pull away for air, lips parted, eyes glazed over, a strand of saliva connecting your mouths.

Jaime reaches to wipe the saliva from your mouth with his thumb, smiling gently as he does.

God. Shit. He's in love with you.

unusually high levels of dopamine and adrenaline detected in bloodstream. quickened heartbeat warning.

"Can I kiss you again?" Jaime whispers.

"Yeah." You whisper back, smiling so hard your eyes crinkle.

Fingers in your hair and lips slotted against yours, Jaime thinks this is heaven for him. Even as the two of you have detransformed, still stuck on the roof of the dorms, your hands on his chest as he sinks further into your touch, smiling against your lips as you hum, the vibrations of your chest traveling to his as a pleasant buzz. Jaime closes his eyes all the way, and he only pulls away when you do, the gentle fondness still present in his eyes as he looks at you.

Yeah. That was what this is. Love.

The same love that was present in his mother's eyes, yet different from the love that was for his family. This love was newer— it made his skin crawl and his heart race, but it wasn't unpleasant. He felt giddy and boyish, falling for someone like this— he felt like it was having a first love, your cheeks flushed and ears red, shy glances stolen in a room full of people, only seeing you under the spotlight when other people existed. Jaime wanted to relish in this forever— the feeling of your skin pressed to his, he would stay with you forever if he could— If you'd let him.

"So?" You smile. "Know why now?"

Jaime pauses to stare at the way the sun shines through your hair and coats you in a glow of gold, his hands still on you as he looks up, a smile on his face. A laugh breaks past his lips at your smile, the happiness from finally having you in his arms sending blood through his body and genuine bliss through his system. Ah. Right. This was heaven to him— to have you in his arms and a smile on his face, the sun not even as bright as the way your eyes crinkle while looking at him, adoring him to the ends of the earth. Ah, it feels good to be loved.

"Mm..." Jaime hums playfully. "Maybe I'll know if you kiss me again."

"God, I think I just unleashed a monster."

"Your fault for being so irresistable, mi vida." He goes back to your lips, humming happily as he does.

Your relationship doesn't change much at first. The two of you are exclusive, yes, but neither of you have put a label on the relationship. Other than the making out in your dorm and occasionally while fighting, not much has really changed. You both have your classes, and you both have things that you are busy with. You wonder if you guys are just friends with benefits, then. Though, judging from the way Jaime looked at you, there was no way the guy thought you both were just friends.

Then, Jaime starts bringing food over to your dorm, clinging onto you while the two of you huddle on the couch with a movie playing in the background. You find yourself in his arms as you listen to his heartbeat at night, and suddenly the single dorm is a double, Jaime squished on your bed next to you, sprawled out with an arm around you lovingly as the two of you sleep. You're... definitely not friends with benefits. You're practically dating, huh?

"I'm here!" Jaime calls from the door, holding a bag of takeout with a bouquet in the other arm.

"What is it today?" You take the flowers from him with a smile.

"Bart visited today." He hums. "Said there was a good bagel place downtown he visited before."

"Ooh." You mumble. "Did you try it?"

"No, but I ordered something I figured you'd like." He takes out the boxes, sliding yours to you, smile on his face.

"Jaime, can I call you mi amor?" You tilt your head.

"You can call me whatever you want, mi vida." He hums. "Just you."

ew.

"Khaji, shush." He hisses at the beetle.

You open the takeout box, grinning at the bagel. "We should make this here."

"We should." He hums. "You'd probably make a better one too."

"Should have Bart judge it." You chew on the bagel, pausing. "Are we... dating?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't we be?" Jaime pauses. "Oh. I forgot to ask you out, huh? Wait, I can prepare something nice and then as—"

"Jaime, go out with me?" You tilt your head, smile crinkling your eyes, your cheeks pulled upward with a foolish grin.

"Yes." he breathes. "Yes, mi vida. Forever and always, it's a yes."

You hum, pulling a flower out of the bouquet and tucking it behind his ear. "There. Now we're actually dating."

"Mi vida." He spins your chair to face him, arms gripping both sides, smile on his face. "Can I have a kiss?"

"For you? Always yes." You set the bagel down, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Though, I probably taste like bagel right now."

"You always taste good." Jaime mumbles, pressing his lips to yours.

And it's gentle, the way that Jaime loves. He presses his fingers into your skin and wraps his arms around you, relishing in the warmth you give him, and to him, you can do no wrong. Even if you make mistakes, he's there for you, slowly, gently, always there to anchor and weigh you down. You'll do the same for him, fingers threading through his hair, skin warm on his, a smile and voice reserved for him.

and god did Jaime love you for it.

[amaltheas-garden]

What if Jon's sweetness in the bittersweet ending is his short lived love with Daenerys?

While I do think the show is probably accurate to what we'll get in the books in the broadest of strokes, there are still a lot of other plotlines to get through before Jon and Dany can even meet. For how long his books are, grrm really doesn't cover all that much time, meaning in just two books, Jon has to be resurrected (which I suspect won't happen until around the halfway point in Winds, since there's no point in Jon dying and coming back just a few chapters later), Sansa has to make it to the Wall, Arya has to return from Braavos and confront Lady Stoneheart, Littlefinger has to be taken care of, Jon and Sansa have to retake Winterfell, and the Starks have to reunite all amidst the growing threat of the whitewalkers. On Dany's side, Aegon has to get to King's Landing, Dany has to become leader of the Dothraki, fulfill all the bits of her prophecy (the 'to go West you must go East' one), and rally her armies to cross the narrow sea, and resolve ALL the loose ends in Essos since whence Dany leaves, that will be the last time we see it. And that's not including all the other stories, like the Dorne plot, Cersei/Jaime/Brienne, and Stannis/Davos/Melisandre, or accounting for the characters still very separate from everything (Sam off in Oldtown and Bran doing three eyed raven stuff). And all this is build up for the final cataclysmic conflict, the song of ice and fire. Now, that is a lot of content to get through, and when you start laying out every single thing that needs to be resolved, it becomes rather apparent why WoW is taking so long. The point is, Jon and Dany are not meeting in Winds, and it would be a miracle for them to meet even in the first half of Dream of Spring. That's why I highly doubt the relationship between Jon and Dany will be a genuine romantic one. Grrm is not the type to do a quick, star-crossed lovers plotline that ends tragically all within the span of a few hundred pages. A Jon x Sansa romance makes more sense, seeing as, if we accept Sansa as the girl in grey, she and Jon will spend the majority of two books with each other.

As for the show, there was nothing bittersweet in Jon having to kill his lover after she becomes a tyrant and threatens to murder his sisters, and for him to end the series by leaving his family for a lifetime of solitude. If book!Jon is destined to go beyond the wall after DoS, the 'sweetness' will be in knowing he did everything in his power to protect his family. No short-term love affair with Dany could ever replace the love Jon holds for the Starks.

Book wise, I doubt the Jon x Dany relationship will be one of genuine romantic love on Jon's part (see pol!Jon theory), and while Jon could end his story alone, I don't think a relationship with Dany is enough to fulfill a 'bittersweet' ending. I also recommend this incredible meta on Jon's ending (it does skew heavily Jonsa-centric) FedonCiadale — Sometimes scrolling through the Jonsa tag, I find... (tumblr.com) and they also have some other amazing answers on the bittersweet ending.

[its-time-to-write]

Omg I'm loving your response to my prompts!! thank you

I have a few ideas (You don't have to do them all) just throwing them out there to see what sparks ideas!!

I love secret admirer stories (I know its no where close to valentines day but still) maybe Reader is Rebecca's assistant and keeps getting gifts leading up to valentines day but she is pretty sure its like Sam or Isaac and tells friend Jaime (even though its really him) then the day of the grand finale and she comes to the lovely surprise of it being Jaime!

also if you could include Scarlett red roses in it for me (They are my favorite flower and the only flower I'm not allergic to)

So. I liked this one. Maybe too much? It might be the longest one I’ve written so far, so, uh, sorry about that. But I liked it a lot. It might be one of my favorite things I’ve ever written. Hope you enjoy. also the gif isn’t Jamie Tartt but it is Phil Dunster so hopefully that’s ok

honey, i’ll give you all my time

Good god, it’s February all ready. You have a love-hate relationship with the month; love, because Galentine’s Day and hate because Valentine’s Day. You and your friends would go out on February 15th to get discount chocolate from the shops, then return home for an ungodly amount of takeout and a movie. On the whole, you all preferred action movies with a good romance. 

You’re dreading Valentine’s Day because it’s when your boyfriend of two years held your hands in his, and told you he wanted to break up. 

That was a year ago. You’re mostly angry that he’s a dark stain on one of your favorite holidays. You’re absolutely determined not to let him ruin your enjoyment. 

This is also the first year you’re not with your friends. You moved away last March because you realized your ex had been holding you back in far too many ways. 

So. To recap. 

You’re alone. You love Valentine’s Day, despite it forever being the day of your breakup. Your friends aren’t here. You have new friends. There is no one to go to the shops with on the 15th. But discount chocolate is still discount chocolate. 

Your current job is as a personal assistant, something you excel at. You basically anticipate needs, meet them, and just generally make your employer’s life a whole lot easier. The application said the job required a lot of travel, but all expenses (minus some food) were covered. 

You were shocked when you got an interview, then a second, then a third, then were hired. 

Your boss is a woman named Rebecca Welton, and you’re half in love with her, but who isn’t, really?

You swear you’ve never been in such a healthy work environment. You mention it one day, early on, and she says it’s all thanks to their head coach, someone named Ted. 

You meet him for the first time later that day, and you understand. 

It’s impossible not to love him, because he has vision. He knows what he wants from his team, and he knows how to get it. 

He believes the team extends far beyond the players. 

He believes it extends to you, too. 

Ted and Coach Beard steal you from Rebecca as often as they can, claiming emergencies such as “a toxic amount of testosterone from all these boys,” “life-threatening boredom,” and last but not least, “there’s a new pun Ted absolutely needs to test right now and he won’t take no for an answer.”

(You like to give Ted honest feedback on his puns.) 

You also find yourself in their office when Rebecca is out for lunch, eating your respective sandwiches and swapping life stories. 

They remind you a lot of your parents.

It’s mid-June when you mention the Valentine’s Day story. 

It doesn’t hurt as much when it’s punctuated by Ted’s “he didn’ts” and Beard’s perfectly-timed gasps. 

You find yourself laughing halfway through, unable to stop. 

“And anyway,” you finish, cheeks painful from smiling so hard, “that’s why romantic love is a joke and I am drowning myself in platonic love forever.”

Ted and Beard share a look. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” Beard says. 

You shoot him a quizzical look. “What do you mean?”

“Well sweetheart,” Ted says, “between the two of us collectively,” here points between him and Beard, “we know of at least three of the boys on the team who are madly in love with you.”

“What?” you gasp, “How did you- where did you- who??”

Ted zips his lips and Beard tips a finger to him. “We know of five if we count Rebecca’s intel.”

You’re sitting cross-legged on the edge of Beard’s desk, in shock. “Rebecca knows about this??”

Ted and Beard shrug in unison. “We all have our opinions on which one should shoot their shot, but that’s neither here nor there,” Ted says. 

“Coincidentally, it’s the one thing we unanimously agree on,” Beard nods. 

You’re cut off from saying anything by the door opening. One of the players stands in the doorway. 

“Excuse me, coach,” he says, accent thick. 

Ted motions in a you have the floor type of way, and the footballer turns to address you of all people. “We’re all goin’ out tonight, and Keeley sent me to invite the new girl. None of the lads have really met you yet, just seen you ‘round. Thought it might be good for team bonding, or something. I’m Jamie, by the way.”

“Oh,” you say, taken aback. “I guess- yeah, I guess I haven’t really met them. I mean, I see you guys around and stuff and I’m at your games, but I don’t really know you. Are you sure you want me to come?”

Jamie shrugs. “Coach is always on us about bein’ a team or some shit. And, havin’ a girl around makes the lads look good.”

You think that makes sense, and then find yourself agreeing to go out that night with a group of footballers you don’t know, and (thank god) Keeley Jones. 

You’re going to figure out which five before the summer’s over. 

—

You have nice time out with the lads. They go to a bar and cram into separate booths. You’re wedged in between two who have introduced themselves as Isaac and Dani, and across from Sam, Bumbercatch, and Jan Maas. Roy, Richard, and a few others you don’t know are milling about, and you see Jamie and Keeley at a table, surrounding by giggling girls. The sight is so absurd that you catch yourself smiling and turning back to whatever conspiracy Bumbercatch is telling you about now. 

—

You put Sam at the top of your list as soon as you get home. The man wears his heart on his sleeve, or maybe in his eyes, but you’re positive that he’s one of the five Ted and Beard referred to. One down, four to go. 

— 

It’s the end of July, and you begin to become friends with the team. You know for an absolute fact who is not interested in you, Jamie being one of them. Coincidentally, he’s the one you become closest to. You think it’s because you’re not worrying about sending mixed signals or leading him on. You dropped public hints about not really looking for anything romantic, just to be sure you wouldn’t hurt anyone. 

As it is, Jan Maas and Dani have made the list. Jan Maas, because he stifled his Dutch bluntness for you and Dani, because he openly declared he was madly in love with you in front of the whole team. 

—

Isaac makes the list in December. It had been in between him and Bumbercatch, but Isaac was the one who walked you to your car every night and the first one to say hello to you every morning. 

You’re not gonna lie, it was cute. 

You shared some of this with Ted and Beard, who remained impressively stone-faced. Rebecca proved to be equally impervious.

You shared all of it with your lunch-buddy-turned-work-bestie, Jamie. 

You ate with him because Rebecca was constantly in lunch meetings these days, and Ted, Beard, and Roy were always revamping their football strategies.

Jamie would plop down at your table and say, “What’s the news, Amy Hughes?” in his perfect Mancunian accent, and then listen/add commentary to whatever you had to say. 

You explained to him that the reason you wanted to know who liked you was so that you could be extra careful with their hearts. You knew what it was like to be led on, and you did NOT want to do that to someone else. 

Jamie nodded thoughtfully at that and then said, “We’re all footballers though, ain’t we? We get the shit end of the stick all the time, hearts broke by models and whatever. Even ends up in the fucking press. Everyone here’s has their heart broken before, and we all know you aren’t doing it on purpose.”

You wrinkle your nose at him. “I’m pretty sure it’s short end of the stick, Jamie.”

And thus begins your lunch hour of bickering. 

—

No one has made a move on you yet, and you don’t have a read on number five. You still think it may be Bumbercatch, but in reality, it slips from your mind. Sam’s moved on, Jan Maas has accepted defeat, Dani swears he will love you until the day he dies, and Isaac stays, well, Isaac. Still sweet. Still walking you to your car, coming round extra early in the morning with a coffee or a water, depending on which “looked less like shit.”

Really though, you don’t think about it until February first, when you walk into your office to a small box on your desk. 

At first, you think it’s a box of Ted’s biscuits. 

Then, you notice a small, scarlet-red rose taped to the top. There’s no note, and all that’s inside is a tiny paper heart. 

It’s folded with extreme care, and you place it on your shelf, smelling the rose. It smells amazing and you make a mental note to figure out where the heck it came from. But for now, it’s time to work. 

—

You don’t mention the gifts until February third, because now there’s been one a day. Each one with a scarlet red rose, and a different gift. Yesterday was an incredibly expensive bar of chocolate (it was life-changing) and today is a tiny gold bracelet.

It’s a simple enough chain, but it is absolutely breathtaking. There is no mistaking the fact that it is not cheap, so you take it and march straight to Rebecca’s office.  

“Rebecca,” you say, hands outstretched, “look.”

She does, smiles, then says, “It appears you have a secret admirer.”

“But I don’t want that!” you cry. “I don’t even have time for that! I don’t even like anybody right now!”

She peers at you over her glasses. “Don’t you?”

The sheer weight of those words is enough to physically knock you back two steps. 

You don’t, you swear you don’t, you’re absolutely sure. 

What about Vienna? a voice in the very back of your head nags.

You reply, out loud, “We don’t talk about Vienna,” and Rebecca just shrugs. 

“Have it your way,” she replies in a tone that means this conversation is over, but you’re the one ending it.

You turn on your heel and find yourself taking the route to Ted and Beard. 

You burst into their office in such a flurry that the entire room turns to look at you. “Close the door,” you say with such urgency, that Trent hurries to comply. Beard even shuts the blinds. 

“What’s on your mind, Ollie Cline?” Ted asks. 

“Wait,” you say, holding up a hand. You point to Roy. “Do you want to be here? It involves feelings.”

“Fuck no,” says Roy, “thanks for being fucking considerate.” He follows it up with a pointed glare at Ted, then goes into his office and firmly shuts the door. 

“Can he be here?” Ted asks, tilting his head toward Trent. 

“I don’t care, he’s probably a good one to have around for this because look!” You present the three collected roses and the bracelet. 

“Someone’s started leaving me gifts, and I’m pretty sure it’s a Valentine’s thing because of the roses, and it was fine for the first two days but this is expensive, and I can’t accept this!”

Ted and Beard share a look. You hate it when they do that and leave you out. 

Ted sighs. “Listen, do you think this about Vienna?”

You fix him with a glare. “No. We are not talking about Vienna ever again.”

Trent pipes up, “What’s Vienna?” and you wheel around on him, taking your glare with you. 

“Vienna," you spit, like it’s poisonous, “is a terrible, awful place where people think terrible, awful things. I never want to talk about it again and I never will.”

Trent nods. “Noted.” 

You turn back to Ted and Beard, pleadingly. “What do I do? Tell me what to do.”

Beard gets up and puts his hand on your shoulder. “Kid, if you want my advice, take the damn roses and wear the damn bracelet. These boys make more money than they know how to spend, so just let it go. They all know how you feel about dating, so if someone’s shooting their shot, they know the stakes.”

You shake your head. “Fine. Fine. I’ll let it go.” 

—

You decide to tell Jamie on day five, because it’s a Friday and you’re dying to get his take. You tell him everything, show him the roses in your office (hanging upside down to dry), and then hand him the notebook that was in today’s box. 

“Jamie,” you say, “this is an expensive notebook. There was a typed note inside that said, ‘for your drawings.’ How did this person even know I like drawing? I never talk about it!”

Jamie looks at you and laughs a little. You’re very flustered for something most people would enjoy. “Dunno, love, but we’ve all seen the sticky notes you leave Coach. That might be it.”

You groan and flop down into your chair. 

“At least tomorrow’s the weekend,” you say.

—

Jamie’s phone dings at 9:00am on Saturday with a text from you that says, what the actual heck and a picture of a brown bag at your doorstep. Inside is a plastic box of your favorite lemon muffin from a local bakery. He emphasized the image, then waits for your response. 

It was still warm, you write. It was someone who knows where I live and knows what time I leave to get breakfast.

Jamie grins and sends you a shrugging emoji, and you respond with an eye roll and a you’re no fun.

Jamie reads that and privately disagrees. He thinks he’s lots of fun

—

You’re pretty sure it’s Isaac. After all, he’s the only likely candidate. He’s one of the few who knows where you live and knows your routine. Not in a creepy way, in a we’re-good-friends type of way. You bring this up to Jamie, after personally banning all talk of this with Ted, Beard, and Rebecca. Stupid Vienna. You should never have told them. 

Jamie shrugs for the millionth, infuriating time. He’s been noncommittal this whole time. You’re over here pouring out your heart and soul, considering whether you like Isaac romantically or not, and all he can say is, “I dunno?” 

This is not the Jamie Tartt you’ve become best friends with. 

That Jamie would be down to hunt this secret admirer with you. That Jamie would be helping you figure out if Isaac had a chance with you. That Jamie would be way more engaged than the one sitting in front of you right now. 

But, you suppose maybe that Jamie died in Vienna, so you stop bringing it up.

—

It’s day ten. Valentine’s Day is in four day, and you’re nervous. 

You’ve decided you don’t like Isaac like that, mainly because it shouldn’t take you that long to decide if you like anyone. There has to be an initial spark, and you shouldn’t try to manufacture it. 

Still, you’re not sure it is Isaac, so you’re not going to say anything about it. The scarlet red roses hang on your office wall, permeating the room with their scent. 

You feel like you’re dying. 

This is a cruel joke and you’re dying. 

The building is basically empty right now. Rebecca and Higgins have some meeting, the team is on the pitch (including Will) and various other staff are somewhere far away from you. So, you jump a little when Trent Crimm comes tripping into your office. 

“Vienna,” he says, no greeting. “If you didn’t want to talk about it, you wouldn’t have told anyone. I’m assuming you do want to talk about it, but you don’t want judgement from the people you love. I’m here to offer my services as a neutral party.”

You look at him. “Trent. You are a journalist. Your whole job is writing down people’s secrets. Why on earth would I talk to you about the worst day of my life?”

Trent shrugs. “I’m good at keeping secrets. This would be off the record. I’ve never lied to people about off the record, also. I consider it bad journalism.”

You consider this for a moment, then sigh. 

“Alright,” you concede. “At least if this gets out, I know whose head I’m shaving in retaliation.”

Trent looks at you in surprise, seeing you in a whole new, slightly threatening light.

“It happened two months ago. It was around Christmas, and I didn’t have anywhere to go…”

—

Your family all had their own separate plans that Christmas. Plans that didn’t really involve you. Same with your friends. You said something casually to Rebecca, and the next day she told you she had booked you a trip to Vienna. Call it an early Christmas present, she said. It was at the Aumaris Vienna, and it was gorgeous and ridiculously out of your budget, but she said you worked hard and gave her peace-of-mind, and you can’t really put a price on that, can you?

So you went. 

But here’s the thing. 

Someone else didn’t have Christmas plans. 

So when you brought up your trip at your daily lunch, said someone else casually asked, can I come? 

You almost choked on your sandwich. 

Because here’s the other thing.

You were, maybe, kind of, possibly just a little bit head over heels in love with this someone else.

You’re not sure when it happened, really, just that it was probably in August and that it was soul-crushing because you knew for an absolute fact that he did not, and never would, feel the same way. 

You didn’t tell anyone except Keeley, but under the condition that she just let you say it and that she never, ever give you a response to it. Just listen. 

She did, but you were pretty sure she almost combusted. 

But who are you to say no when Jamie Tartt invited himself on your luxurious Christmas vacation saying, I’ll pay extra to get a plane ticket next to you? 

You were doomed from the start. 

To make matters totally and impossibly worse, he couldn’t find another room. 

He had his tickets, but the hotels, he said, were packed. 

It was Christmas, after all. 

So that’s how you ended up in a luxury hotel with Jamie Tartt for a week and a half, one day of which was Christmas. 

You know the, “there was only one bed” trope that everyone thinks is so cute?

It was that, but only if you add deep, shattering heartbreak to it. 

Because every night, you had to listen to Jamie say, “goodnight, love,” and then get into that giant, soft bed as far away from him as you could manage. 

Every morning you woke up to the pillow barricade long gone, one of his arms thrown around you. Or one of your legs on top of his. Or a million different scenarios where you end up literally asleep together, some weird gravity pulling you to each other. 

You were falling so hard and so fast, that you felt like the air was knocked from your lungs when Jamie started talking about the girl he liked. 

“She’s just so fucking beautiful,” he’d say, staring at an Alpine mountain. Or, “Swear she’s the smartest fucking person I’ve ever met,” while traipsing through the city. Or, “Pretty sure she’s ruined me for everyone else,” while getting facials at the hotel spa. 

To be fair, you were the one who teased him into admitting he liked someone. 

You just didn’t expect it to hurt so much. 

The entire trip felt like heaven and hell had simultaneously converged on you, and you never wanted to leave but also desperately counted the days till it was over. 

You came back and broke down in Rebecca’s office. Ted and Beard were there. The whole thing came spilling out, about how you loved the trip so much it felt like your heart would explode but that Jamie loved someone else. 

They all exchanged looks amongst themselves and did their best to comfort you. 

You pulled yourself together and they promised never to say anything to anyone. 

—

“So that’s Vienna,” you finish. 

Trent is just staring at you, mouth slightly agape. 

He finally says, “My god, that’s fucked,” with such emotion that you decide right then and there that you like Trent Crimm and his rainbow mug. 

Now, you just shrug. “I did it to myself, honestly. That’s why I’m tripping out about this secret admirer thing. And god, Trent, the roses. They’re so beautiful and it’s so romantic, and whoever it is obviously knows me well so there’s a part of me that wants to like this person, but…” you trail off. 

“But there’s a part of you that’s hoping against hope that Jamie’s behind it all,” Trent finishes. 

You let out a little laugh. “Yeah, that about sums it up.”

Trent looks at the roses, then at you. “Maybe you should talk to Jamie,” he says, gently. 

You reply with a forceful, “No,” and then follow up with a small, “That’s what Ted and Rebecca say, too.” 

Trent stands up, shrugs, says with a small smile, “Just a thought,” then he’s out the way he came. 

—

It is Valentine’s Day. And it’s a Sunday, which means you are legally required to stay in bed until 10, at which point you will get out only to make yourself decent enough to go buy a good cup of coffee and maybe (definitely) something to eat. 

You’ve just finished putting on your shoes, when there’s a knock at the door. 

You take a breath, and get ready to let down your secret admirer as gently as possible. 

You swing open the door to reveal- 

“Jamie! What are you doing here?”

Jamie Tartt is on your doorstep, hands behind his back, looking shyer than the day you first met. 

He opens his mouth and says the last thing you’d ever expect:

“D’you remember Vienna?”

Your heart, which had already been going fast because his dumb floppy hair was all dumb and floppy in his stupid, cute headband, is now working double time. You manage a nod. 

Jamie takes this as permission to continue. “D’you remember how I couldn’t get another room, no matter how hard I tried? That wasn’t true. I could’ve.” He pauses, and you wait for him to continue. 

“And d’you remember when we met, when I told you Keeley told me to invite you out? That was a lie too.”

You tilt your head, confused. He keeps going. 

“Look- I fucked it. I fucked it a million times and I told Ted and I told Beard, but they kept helping me un-fuck it and giving me chances, and then Rebecca bought two tickets to Vienna and slipped me the other one, and they all told me I had a perfect shot.” 

You’re still not understanding what he’s saying. He might as well be speaking another language. Jamie sees the confusion in your eyes, takes a breath, and tries again. 

“Keeley told me to invite you out, but only because I’d seen you around and thought you were fit. Then Isaac and all the lads thought the same thing, so I didn’t even get to fuckin’ sit with you. And then you started sayin’ things about not bein’ ready for a relationship, so I tried to let it go. I really fucking tried. But I just couldn’t. Your eyes are too sparkly and your laugh is too fucking cute and I couldn’t let it go, so I started eating lunch with you and you fucking let me. I knew the moment I said anything about liking you, it was over.”

Comprehension has started to dawn, but you push down hope until Jamie’s done speaking. 

“Everyone told me to shoot my shot in Vienna. We shared a bed, for fuck’s sake.” Here, Jamie looks bewildered. “But I dunno, I didn’t want to make shit weird. So when you asked if I liked anyone I said yeah, and started fuckin describing you, but you never fucking picked up on it. That’s when I got the idea to try one more time. All by meself, no help from anyone else. So…yeah.”

Jamie Tartt is standing on your porch confessing his love for you on Valentine’s Day and it is not a dream, because if it were your teeth would be falling out and his hair would probably be neon pink. 

��I’m an idiot,” you breathe. “You like me? Like, like-like me?”

Jamie quirks a smile at that. “Not quite, darling. Pretty fucking sure I love you.” He pulls his hand from behind his back to reveal a bunch of scarlet red roses. The same from each gift. 

“Got these for you,” he says. “D’you know how hard it is to get red roses in February?”

You don’t answer him because you’re leaping into his arms, kissing him like you’ve thought about doing every day for what feels like forever. He’s kissing you back, hand with the flowers pressed against your back, other hand in your hair. 

“I love you too, Jamie,” you whisper against his mouth. He smiles and pulls you in again. 

[my-little-random-world]

Marta: How can he be so full of hatred and resentment? Fina: Jesús again? Marta: Who else? Fina: What has he done this time? Marta: He provoked an absurd confrontation with my cousins over the sale of some land. He doesn't respect anything or anyone. Fina: Aren't you afraid that you might be next? Marta: Me? Fina: Well, you, us… What if he decides to publish the photos they took of us? Marta: I don't think he'd go that far. He already has me where he wants me. What else can I do? I take the photos away from him, I tear them up, and the next day he'd show up with ten more copies. Fina: I don't know, Marta. What I do know is that we can't go on like this. I've been thinking, and I believe you and I should take a step forward. Marta: A step forward? I don’t understand. Fina: I have a plan. It might be risky, but it's riskier to just sit here and do nothing. Marta: Tell me? Fina: Come with me to Barcelona.

Fina: Marta, I’ve thought about it over and over, and I believe it’s the best thing for both of us. Marta: And what about your father? Until today, I thought leaving him was non-negotiable. Fina: I know, but he's the one who finally convinced me. He's willing to sacrifice and come with me, but I can't allow that. But if you come with me, Marta, everything would be so different. Marta: I don’t know what to say. Fina: Then say yes. Say yes. We're not safe here. And especially not you—if you keep standing out in the company, your brother might use those photos to ruin you and push you aside. Marta: He wouldn’t dare. Fina: Of course, he would. You just said it yourself—that your brother doesn’t care about anything or anyone. He has you completely at his mercy. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life watching what your brother does or doesn’t do? My love, you don’t deserve that. Marta: You're right. What should I do then? Leave everything behind—the company, the family? My father won't allow it. Fina: Your father is just as terrified as mine. But I have it all planned out. Why don’t you propose expanding and managing the store in Barcelona? I’d work somewhere else to avoid raising suspicion. Marta: I… Fina: And Marta, we’d live together in the same apartment. Can you imagine? We’d be friends on the outside, but in private… Marta: Living together… It’s what we’ve always dreamed of. Fina: Exactly. We can't hope for anything better in a country like this. The law is the law, no matter how much it pains us. Marta: We could start over and be far from those who wish us harm. Fina: That’s right. Your brother would no longer be a threat, and you and I could be together as much as we wanted, without any obligations. Marta: Maybe you can leave everything behind in one go, but I’m not sure if I can. Let me think about it—I mean, there are things you have to consider with your head, not just your heart. Marta: How’s the order for the wedding going? Carmen: It’s ready for pickup, Doña Marta. Isn’t it a nice gesture? The bride wants to give gift boxes to all her guests. Marta: That’s the luxury of having the means. Fina, will you come with me to the storeroom? Fina: Of course.

Marta: Right now, I can’t go to Barcelona with you. It has nothing to do with how I feel about you, it’s just that… Fina: It’s just that you’re afraid to start over with me? Marta: No, it’s because of Jaime. He’s very sick. Fina: What do you mean, he’s sick? Marta: Very seriously ill. Fina: And you’re telling me this now? Marta: I wish I could have told you sooner. No one in the family knows, and I promised to keep it a secret. I also promised to stay by his side until the end. Fina: I see. Marta: Didn’t you hear me? Jaime is very sick. Fina: You know what, Marta? My father is very sick too. Marta: What are you trying to say? Fina: I’m saying that I’m really sorry if Jaime is truly sick, I really am. But I see him treating patients day in and day out, so no one would think that. Marta: Do you want him to wear a sign on his forehead that says, "Oh, I’m dying"? Fina: Does my father wear that sign? He has it on his forehead, and the letters are very big. If I have to go to Barcelona, I’ll have to give up spending the little time he has left with him. So, I don’t know… I don’t get the feeling that Jaime is on his deathbed, to be honest. Marta: Do you think I’m making this up? Fina: Marta, I know exactly how much it cost you to build your reputation in the company and earn the respect of your family because that’s what you’ve been doing all these years. And I can understand how difficult it is for you to leave it all behind, but I need you to be very honest with me right now. Marta: Right now, I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Fina: I’m telling you that I understand, that I understand how hard it is for you to leave everything behind, but I need you to be very honest and clear because you know what, Marta? I’m willing to leave everything behind for you—everything. I’m absolutely willing, but what about you? What about you? Are you willing to leave it all behind and come with me to try to be happy with the person who truly loves you? Marta: Go back to the store right now because I don’t even know how to respond to you. Fina: Very well then. Marta: It’s clear that you don’t want to listen to or understand me. Fina: You don’t understand me either. Marta: Especially now, when I need you more than ever. Fina: Well, in that case, I think I have the solution. Marta: What solution?

[crazyk-imagine]

Hey! I just read your Jamie Tartt fic where the reader is pregnant and I freaking loved it! It kind of got me thinking about Jamie bringing his little girl, cause he’s totally gonna be a girl dad, to the pitch for practice. She’s like 4 or 5, really young and wearing a Tartt jersey and has the entire team wrapped around her finger, especially Roy.. bonus if her favorite player is someone else on the team, any of them, and Roy and Jamie get jealous… if you could write it great! If not no worries! Thanks for the consideration! 🥰🥰

Abdicated Family Issues

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x Pregnant!Reader

Characters: Jamie Tartt, Pregnant!reader, Tartt Toddler, Baby Tartt, Roy Kent, Dani Rojas, Jan Maas (briefly mentioned)

Warnings: Fluff, Jamie being a dramatic bitch, Jealous Roy and Jamie, Toddler Tartt bouncing off the walls because of her fun day at dad's work, Roy didn't ask for this, he didn't plan on being involved, Jamie being a sad little baby thinking his baby girl doesn't like him (anymore), Jamie and Roy need comforting, reader becomes their therapist for a second, Dani being a sweetheart (ofc)

Word Count: 1,432

A/N: Ahhh, love, love, love it!! I thought who better to make Jamie just a little jelly than Dani aka the other ace on the team. Roy being involved and jelly is a plus.

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

You smile when you get a text from your boyfriend.

Baby 💕

"Leaving now. Will be home soon" 2:19pm Sent Read

Darling 💓

"See you two soon 💕" 2:27pm Sent Read

-

As soon as you get comfortable your boyfriend lays beside you. “How am I supposed to feel?” Jamie whines to you, crawling onto your lap.

“Can you back-up to the beginning of your story? I have no idea what’s happened, and you pretended like I came onto the field with you," you tell him, rubbing your slowly growing belly.

He smiles and adjusts himself so he lays by your side, head resting on your shoulder so he can also rub your belly.

"Tell me why you look like my sad Jaim."

"She-"

"Dani is so cool!"

You glance away from your excited and jumpy daughter to your even more depressed boyfriend.

"Why don't you tell your mum what you told me?" Ron's voice echoes throughout the hallway as he closes the front door.

"Dani did this really cool move and- and-"

You try and shush, "babes. Babes." You sigh when you don't get her attention. "Honey, take a breath and breathe. I want to hear about your exciting day, but you can only do it if you talk a little slower."

She stares at you.

Roy grabs a seat on one of the chairs you keep out for company (because the team comes over more often than you'd like, right now being pregnant; they take a lot of you). "Why don't you tell her more about the fun you had today?"

"Jan's really tall and gave me piggyback rides while dad was practicing, even though he should have been too."

"You made it fun, Baby Tartt."

You furrow your brows, unsure of who said that.

Roy shrugs and mouths, "phone."

Jamie slumps further into your side.

You open your arms, wanting to pull your baby girl in for a hug and make a poor attempt at trying to get the phone before your chatty girl drops it.

Meaning you two would need to buy another phone (your goal is to make it last six more months).

The screen shifts to the ceiling before Dani's face pops up. "Hi. How are you? Do you need some of my family's special pregnancy soup?"

You smile and shake your head. "No, thank you, Danny. I appreciate the offer though."

"Of course, of course."

"So, how was today's practice? I hope it was alright."

"Oh, it was great. Baby Tartt shows promise to follow in her father's footsteps."

"Oh, does she?"

He nods, "yes, yes. I showed her a few moves and-"

"More like took her attention from me," Jamie grumbles.

Roy scoffs.

You shake your head, wanting to listen to what Dani's saying without commentary from the peanut gallery.

It only lasts two minutes longer until you can't take it anymore.

"Dani- dani- I'm sorry, I'm feeling a little nauseous and I don't want to keep you any longer. I know you have other things to do. I'm sure we'll talk more soon."

"Alright, I’ll leave you to rest. I know how much a woman in your condition needs her rest, especially with Jamie’s baby.”

Your boyfriend beside you grumbles, “what does that mean?”

“You are a good football player, meaning you have strong kicks.”

He doesn’t respond but you do know that Dani’s comment uplifted his mood just a little bit.

“I hope you have a good rest of your evening and get plenty of rest,” the excited player waves to you.

Your daughter leans in, waving. “Bye, Dani! I’ll come by so we can practice more.”

“That is good to hear. I can’t wait until your next visit.”

You end the call and look up. “Sweetie?”

Jamie and your daughter look at you; you pat your boyfriend’s shoulder.

“Not you, J.” You glance back at your adorable baby girl. “Can you go get me my special blanket? I’m feeling a little cold.”

She nods, “okay.”

“I can help-”

You shake your head, “nope. Neither of you are leaving this room until you confess.”

“Confess? Confess what?” Jamie asks.

“You know what. You two have never looked more upset and depressed at the same time. I want to know why so I can help you.”

Roy clenches his jaw.

“You don’t have to say much, Roy. But you, my dear Jaim, have to give me something so I can figure out whether or not a hug will suffice for right now.”

He groans and removes himself from you, throwing himself onto the other side of the couch. “She likes him more.”

Your head snaps over at the gruff man. “What?”

He sighs, “your future athlete, liked Dani more than she liked her dad on the field today.”

“And you,” Jamie points at him. “Don’t throw me under the bus and expect me to just sit here and let you-”

You grab Jamie’s hand, intertwining your fingers, “stop it. There’s no need to fight.”

The older man crosses his arms. “But it’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair? I need you to explain to me because I have no idea what it is or how to help you.”

“She wanted to practice more with Dani than she did me. I mean, how does that make sense? How is that fair? I’m her fuckin’ dad, you know.”

A small smile tugs at the corner of your lips. “Jaim, you shouldn’t feel that way.” You brush away the hair that falls in front of his eyes.

“How else am I supposed to feel? Made me feel like- I don’t know.”

“You do know but I won’t push you because I know it’s the fact that Roy’s here. But please don’t worry about that-”

“Well, how else am I supposed to feel?”

You sigh. “Jamie, she’s wearing your number and has your name on the back of her jersey. She may want to hang out with him a few times but you’re her dad. You’re her number one player.”

Roy clearing his throat makes you roll your eyes, “and you as well, you big baby.”

The gruff man smirks in return, not wanting you to know how that makes him feel (special).

You return your attention to your boyfriend. “You are the reason she loves the sport, without you, who knows what she’d be obsessed with other than her toys, you know. I mean, you helped her find her future.”

He finally looks at you for the first time since he got home. “I did?”

You nod, smiling at him. “Of course, you fucking did because you are Jamie Tartt. Best girl dad ever, Jamie Tartt.”

He cups your cheek before leaning in to kiss you.

You pull back with a gasp as a wide smile dances across your lips.

“What is it?”

“Someone’s also trying to show you that they’re your number one fan with their strong kicks.” You grab his hand and hold it over the spot.

The exciting moment between you two is broken when a certain ex-player’s hand hovers over your belly.

“Come here, you quiet old man.”

“Oi.”

You raise a brow at him.

“I’m not that old.”

“I found it.”

You all turn to find your daughter trapped underneath the blanket.

“Roy, go help her before she trips, please.”

Your boyfriend takes this opportunity to whisper sweet promises to the baby.

Once your daughter is free and can see properly, she watches the two of you. “What are you two doing?”

“Your sibling is kicking,” he tells her.

Her eyes widen and she rushes towards you, wanting to feel the kicks as well.

Jamie grabs her hand so the two of them can feel the baby kicking together.

You glance over at Roy, who’s set the blanket off the side; he waves at you before leaving.

“Are you two having fun?”

They nod, not wanting to break their concentration.

You groan, throwing your head back.

“What? What is it?” Jamie asks, worried something’s wrong.

“You two keep pushing the baby onto my bladder and guess what?”

“I’ll help you up.” He gets you up with no problems. He leans closer to your ear, whispering, “all you need to do is ask, darling.”

You narrow your eyes to him. “Really? You really want to get cheeky with me, Tartt.”

He only smiles and walks with you to the bathroom.

“Go spend time with your daughter before she’s old enough to go out on dates.”

“Don’t do that to me.” And he’s back in the living room.

You chuckle, finding it too easy to rile him up.

[lizzie-queenofmeigas]

What I would Change In ASOIAF

Ages & Time:

–This has always bugged me, how young the characters are and that the time passes so slowly. I would have either aged them up and have time pass equally or have each book be what occurs in a years.

–IF WITH EACH BOOK PASSED A YEAR, in the beginning of Winds of Winter Arya would be 14, Sansa 16, Jon 19, Dany 18, Bran 12/13, Cersei and Jaime 38(?, Tyrion 29, Margaery 19, Tommen 11, Myrcella 13, Arianne 27(?, and Brienne 23, Theon 24/25 and Sam 23.

This would, knowing George, cause more possibilities of sexual violence to the female characters. Arya, Sansa and Myrcella are the most possible candidates for this, because Dany at the beginning of Winds of Winter is already a dragonrider and probably the most powerful person in the Known World.

—IF WE CHANGE THE AGES AND LEAVE THE TIME AS GEORGE PUTS IT (2 years pass during the course of five books) we could have Dany start the book being 15 (which is much more historically accurate anyways), Jon 16, Sansa 14, Ary 12, Bran 11, Margaery 16, Brienne her canon age, Cersei and Jaime 35, Tyrion 26, Joffrey 15, Myrcella 13 and Tommen 10. The rest can be left with their canon ages.

This too would, knowing George, increase the chance of Joffrey sexually assaulting Sansa or even Tyrion deciding to consummate the marriage. It would also be, knowing George, possible that Arya and Myrcella suffer this two, or they could be given romances. I mean, knowing George he might have Myrcella making out with one of the Sand Snakes in Dance with Dragons. This would not be terrible, but it would be very sexualized instead of just romantic.

Diversity

–This is another thing that bothers me, the lack of diversity. ASoIaF has a lot of human races, but most are white, we could fix that.

–MAKE THE DORNISH UNQUESTIONABLY POC the dornish could be, as many fancast them, based in Indians.

–MAKE THE FIRST MEN NOT WHITE EUROPEAN the Starks and all the northerners could be based in the natives of Alaska, Greenland, Canada and Siberia.

–MAKE THE VALYRIANS BLACK the three Valyrian houses, Velaryon, Celtigar and Targaryen could be black. Essos is a big continent and we already have proof that there are people of color in the continent (Dothraki)

–MAKE WESTEROS HAVE FIRM ALLIANCES WITH THE SUMMER ISLANDS AND YI TI this will make a possibility of a more diverse Westeros. Many could be immigrants or other could be mixed (and honestly if Yi Ti is that rich they should definitely have an alliance with the country)

–GIVE THE DOTHRAKI POVS AND POSITIVE TRAITS Dany's most ardent followers and first culture to embrace her are also people and people and their cultures have good and bad things. Dany's loyal handmaids and kos should have POV characters during Feast for Crows they could have POVs showing how they see Dany and the situation and the changes, showing their relationships with one-another, what they like and don't like.

Women & Warriors

–Was always kinda weird to me how Dany, Who was abused by men many times, doesn't try to train or even carries a knife around (that I remember)

–MAKE DANY AN ASPIRING WARRIOR from book one Dany could have been training with the Dothraki or Jorah. She is shown to be very physically active, so why not training?

–MAKE IRRI AND JHIQUI WARRIORS the Dothraki could have women being physically active, using bows and whips if not arakhs.

–HAVE DANY TRUST IN HER DRAGONS MORE this is something many might not agree with, but Dany should have leaned in her family's strength more without forgetting who she is alone. Her bond with her dragons is special and she should have completely refused to lock them up, or have them out sooner.

[melrosing]

who do you think jaime didn't tell cersei and tyrion about aerys? is it because they already don't blame him?

I think it’s a few things??

Firstly, there’s the fact that Jaime hasn’t told anyone before Brienne, not just his siblings. He doesn’t like having to explain himself to anyone: if people have assumed the worst, he resents the expectation that he should beg for their understanding. If they’re so shallow minded, why should he tear himself to pieces trying to win back their esteem?

Then I think he also suspects that if he did try to explain, they wouldn’t believe him anyway - the trappings of the KG and House Lannister are such that many would judge Jaime by his supposed allegiances before Jaime as an individual, and there’s nothing he can do about that. And I think that’s part of what ‘by what right does the wolf judge the lion?’ means - both sides have blood on their hands, why should he submit to their judgement?

all this gets away from the fact Jaime hasn’t told his siblings but I think it’s the context - Jaime has tried to convince himself he doesn’t owe anyone an explanation, he doesn’t care what anyone thinks. and as for Cersei and Tyrion, I don’t think they care what his reasons were either way. Cersei is not impressed by moral grandstanding, and would probably be MORE impressed by the notion of Jaime killing Aerys for the sake of House Lann (rather than the city). But by and large she doesn’t care about Jaime’s inferiority, and Jaime is happy to pretend to be whatever she wants him to be, so that’s that.

And for Tyrion, idk, I think he just loves Jaime pretty much unconditionally (even now I think he still does), and Jaime’s motivations in killing Aerys just wouldn’t matter much to him. He might be kind of impressed by the moral reasons Jaime did it, and probably even surprised… but Tyrion is a pretty Machiavellian kind of guy himself, I don’t think he’d think there’s much wrong with just taking Aerys out for Tywin’s sake, either. And I think Jaime is more or less content to be an uncomplicated figure for Tyrion, because Tyrion already accepts the rest (I.e. his relationship w Cers) without question. They never seek to explain themselves to one another. EXCEPT that one time.

So the difference w Brienne (you didn’t ask but I’m thinking out loud now) is primarily this: Brienne is not a hypocrite. she walks the walk, allying herself purely to what she believes in, which is ofc true knighthood, and all this with no ulterior motive. and somewhere deep down, Jaime holds the same values as she does. so by virtue of this, her esteem means something to him. he thinks she could see him with unclouded vision, and wants to know what she’d make of him if she did.

the Lannister siblings do not really hold the same values as Jaime, nor can they see him w unclouded vision, nor are they really interested in understanding Jaime in this way, so that’s why I think he doesn’t tell them.

[gingerlyblossom]

Just broke up with my boyfriend so I'm bingewatching ted lasso for the first time and it's really filling the void and cheering me up I'm in season two currently

Some thoughts:

-Fuck I audibly gasped when Jamie punched his dad and then Roy being the one to comfort him :( especially after Jamie said he'd had a poster of Roy up in his room growing up it got me I love their dynamic the parallels between them kill me

-Thought I'd be crying more but the only thing that's got me was Higgins and his wife fuck it's so sweet his rainbow 🥹

-Nates character arc is making me sad I know not everything can be about growth and positive change but :( I just feel bad because him being a prick isn't justified but it's understandable I've been there and when you get undervalued and treated like shit it's hard to let go of the anger and resentment I wish he could see how much everyone cares Ted needs to give him a hug

-love that both jaime and roy are munches we just don't see that enough in media god bless Keeley and can she fuck them both

-sam deserves way more screen time I adore his character he's so sweet and I wish they had done more to flesh out his conflict with jaime like obviously we got the kit scene but I think there should've been more of Sam's good temper winning out if that makes sense? Like ted went back on his word and I think Sam deserved to be mad about that and either get an explanation or actively choose to be the bigger person

-I love ted wish I could grow a mustache in his honor

-DANI ROJAS DANI ROJAS DANI ROJAS

-Why does Collin know what grindr is

-wish they weren't doing the sam and Rebecca thing or at the very least wish sam was older, I think the dynamic is sweet but it does feel a little ick when she's old enough to be his mom and also is in a position of power over him

-the Christmas episode was so cute

-roy is the perfect level of gruff without being the worst half the time when people talk about a grump with a heart of gold it's the biggest dickhead you've ever seen but roy actually cares and is a softie aww

-It's hard to be mad because I love sam and the hair cut scene was so perfect and seeing him all romantical makes me blush so I'm torn

-I had to keep pausing when sam did something too cute couldn't take it

-Teds just like me in therapy one time I cussed out my therapist because he touched a nerve and he was unimpressed which just pissed me off more so like I get it man we've all been there

-also not to knock the doc but she seems kind of unethical in her practices and I'm trying to warm up but I don't think she's good at her job

-Trent Crimm of The Independent <3

-love that Rebecca and keeley just instantly became friends im tired of the hateful female subplots and I'm glad we instantly got girl time

-also loved keeley jerking off to her own boyfriend that's kind of hilarious if I was dating someone famous I'd do the same thing

-sad that coach roy isn't shirtless the way player roy constantly was but I'm being brave

-Dani Rojas :)

-Dani Rojas pt two everytime he smiles its like a little high oh my god

-Ted needs a hug :( why does he need a tragic backstory why can't he just be a happy guy (I know why but I would love it if nothing bad ever happened to him thanks)

[waverlyyhaught]

You know, the Mafin scene today could be the start of their reconciliation. I think this tweet (google translated below) is spot on and I can totally see this happening: Mafin discussion is coming, with Fina complaining to Marta that why she ignores her, that she doesn't even look at her and behaves as if nothing had happened between them. Marta says something to her like "do you know why I don't look at you? because if I look at you, I'm going to lose my composure. If I look into your eyes all I'm going to want is to caress you and kiss you and know that I can't. That's why I don't look at you, so as not to fall into temptation and not let it show how much I love you and that I can't forget you, no matter how hard I try, so I prefer not to look at you, it's easier to cope with that immense pain. I feel immensely inside for not being able to be with you." Source: gini__us on Twitter I picture a busy Marta working late in her office and an upset Fina confronting her there. Or another late night run in in the kitchen? Marta is there first, Fina walks in, Marta tries to leave but Fina grabs her arm, etc. The second option is less likely but I've been wanting another Mafin kitchen scene so that's more wishful thinking. What do y'all think?

Also, Jaime said today that he has a conference in however many days so there's finally hope for some Mafin alone time!!

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

Mashup discussion suggestion, Guilty As Sin? X Mirrorball.

Never would've thought it, but it weirdly works especially thanks to the bridge. But I was so confused when she first started singing it lol

Thanks for the rec anon!

I remember also being confused for a moment when she started playing it, and then it clicked and I was like OOOOOOOOOOOOOOH. But now I need to rewatch to remember why 😂

Voila:

I think the mashup comes down to: I'm still on that trapeze, still trying everything to get you looking at me, but if I roll the stone away, they're gonna crucify me anyway.

The basic story of the combined songs is relatively simple in that: you are doing everything you can to get someone's attention, because you need it in every way possible and are not getting it. I want you to laugh with me, I want you to look at me, I want you to touch me, I want you to pay attention to me, I want you to love me.

I'm going through my archives from that night and lol the posts still make me laugh. First of all this one isn't not true lol. But also, if you want to dig deeper into the story told in the mashup, there are a couple of ways to take it. On the surface, it could be a story about attracting the attention of, say, the masquerade reveller when you feel like you've been ignored. (Hence the linked post lol.)

But on a larger scale, it could also be the story of trying and trying and trying to get someone to pay attention to you, to love you the way they used to, and when that fails, falling to the, well, interloper's glances. I had reblogged this post of Jaime's at the time and I think that still sums it up. And in my tags on that post I even said there was a pipeline between "trying everything to get you laughing at me" to "stopped trying to make him laugh, stopped trying to drill the safe" which is such a gut punch if you think about it-- but that's also outside of this mashup haha. BUT it's all part of the same continuum of being ignored and feeling unwanted, and what to do you do when you feel like you've exhausted everything you could possibly do to get your loved one to see you? Well, you start directing those efforts elsewhere, especially when someone else is giving you the attention that eludes you at home.

On the night I posted:

“Spinning in my highest heels, love, shining just for you” to “I dream of cracking locks, throwing my life to the wolves or the ocean rocks” is soooooooo 😵‍💫

and that reminder was a little ouchie 😩 And also reminds me of the contrast of, "when I break it's in a million pieces" to "what if I roll the stone away, they're gonna crucify me anyway" and "if long-suffering propriety is what they want from me, they don't know how you've haunted me so stunningly." Like, I am giving this everything I have to be the person you want me to be so that you can be the person I need you to be, but what happens when that's not enough? I shatter behind closed doors. (And then I start becoming someone else, for someone else.)

I totally forgot about this one (like I have most of the mashups lol) and this was so interesting to revisit!