#none of them are ever going to talk about this again

[wcnderlnds]

funhouse | choi su-bong (thanos)

・❥・ summary: you're just as crazy as he is which instantly catches his attention ・❥・word count: 1.1k ・❥・warnings: mentions of death, blood, sexual innuendos, thanos got his pills. ・❥・ authors note: there will definitely be a second part to this because him vibing with someone just as crazy is so fun!! thank u to anon for the request.

Money made the world go round and it was no different for you. Unfortunately, you managed to land yourself in a crap ton of debt so when some shady looking salesman approached you offering you a way to win some money, you took it. Was it the smartest thing you’d ever done? Nope but when times were hard, people got desperate. Desperation made people do ridiculous things. That’s how you’d found yourself in this weird place with hundreds of other people who apparently all had debts to pay off. Some of them over ten billion. At least your own was only around one. All you had to do was get that money and your life would be back on track. All you had to do was play some stupid games and that cash would be yours. How hard could it really be?

As you stood there ready to take your photo, one of the pink guards watching you carefully, you heard a commotion from the other side of the small wall. Peering around, you saw a bunch of people gathering around a guy with purple hair. ‘Losers’, you thought as you went back to happily take your picture. Of course you just had to give it the finger, raising both of your middle fingers as the camera flashed.

The guards led you into a big room filled with sand, your feet scuffing against the grainy substance. Curious eyes around as you noticed the weird doll, the colourful walls giving an eerie feeling. With hands on your hips, you listened as the rules were echoed out through the speakers. The boy with the purple hair stood next to you, his arms crossed across his chest as he listened, too. 

Then, the game began. Red Light, Green Light – one of the easiest games imaginable. As you were about to start running, player 456 began spewing something about people getting shot if they moved. “Pfft, he’s lost his mind already.”

“Tell me about it,” the deep voice next to you replied. You’d mostly been talking to yourself not expecting anyone to hear you. His dark eyes scanned your body, unabashedly checking you out. “Ay, Senorita, what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you grinned, turning back to face forward. Ignoring everything around you, the second the song started, you began to skip forward without a care in the world. Player 456 was still going on and on but his words weren’t even registering in your head as you once again began to skip forward, hands swinging by your side with a smile on your face.

The first shot sounded out and, admittedly, it made you almost jump back but you held still. So, that guy wasn’t just crazy. He was telling the truth. If you moved, you died. Oh, well. That just added more stakes to the game and what was life without a little bit of danger anyway? Again, it’s not like it was a hard game. All you had to do was make sure you stood still before the red light came on. Your eyes glanced to your left to see the purple haired guy who had been standing behind the girl who had unfortunately taken the first shot. Blood splattered across his face, his eyes wide almost as if in shock. Fair, you were sure if you had someone’s blood across your face you’d be a little shook up. At the next green light you skipped forward again, throwinging a little twirl in there. As you twirled around the red light sounded and you noticed purple hair had a cross in his hand. You couldn’t quite see what he had in it but as the green light flashed once again, he popped something into his mouth. Whatever, it was none of your business.

The game continued but it was starting to get a little boring. Everyone was listening to that Player 456 so mostly everyone was still in the game. Now, you definitely weren’t one for anyone getting hurt but… a little chaos was always needed. So, as the red light sounded out you end up learning forward, arms stretched out as you pushed the person in front of you forward. It was like a domino effect as they stumbled forward into another player each of them falling to the ground. A laugh from your side sounded out and as you decided to look, you noticed that purple hair had the same idea as you – he’d pushed people to the ground.

“Great minds think alike, huh?” He wiggled his brows cheekily.

“Sure do,” you smirked, skipping backwards to continue talking to him as the running started again. “You haven’t told me your name yet.”

“Thanos. Remember it because you’ll be screaming it later.”

“Ha! Good one.” You cackled, throwing your head back. It was polite to tell him your name too, right? You did even though you knew for damn sure Thanos wasn’t his real name but you could probably worm his real one of him somehow. He seemed like someone that could easily be persuaded by charm and a pretty face.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Back in the main holding area, you sat on the stairs between the bunks, humming a song to yourself. Your foot tapped against the metal, palms stretched behind you leaning backwards. It was like you were right at home, not caring about the disaster going on around you. Maybe if you thought too much about it then you would be terrified but that wouldn’t help. The money was the only thing you needed right now and nothing could get in the way of that. Lost in your own thoughts, you heard someone sit down next to you thanks to their footsteps echoing off the cool metal.

“Senoritaaaaa,” he sang out, knocking his knee against yours. “I see you survived.”

“Mhm! Can’t get rid of me that easily now, Thanos,” you winked at him resting a hand on his shoulder as you leaned on him, fluttering your eyelashes. “I like you, you seem fun.”

“I can show you how much fun I can be,” his deep voice a seductive purr as he leaned into your ear. “Stick with me, baby. We’ll survive this shithole, get our cash then I can show you a good time.”

You tilted your head to the side, eyes looking at him in assessment. Yeah, there was no way you could trust this guy but he was handsome and having someone by your side protecting you in here seemed like a good idea so you clapped your hands together excitedly. “Okay! Deal.”

taglist: @angelofbooksworld @taivantaylor @sherlocke3d @djarindroid @justsisse @ldydeath @sassyyoyo @lillyysgirlblog @mysatnin

[wonderjanga]

Ms. Kent and Billy

it’s 1959 and it’s been a year ever since Billy got his powers. Life is good and he found out about a pie eating contest happening in some little town in Kansas called Smallville. If you were to win, you’d get a whole $100.

Billy: “A hundred whole dollars… I could get food for weeks- no, months with that!”

Martha(Ma Kent): *appeared behind him* “Are you gonna participate in the contest?”

Billy: *startles* “Uh… Yes?”

Martha: “Aren’t you a little skinny for that?”

Billy: “Wha- I’m not skinny! I don’t think I’m too skinny at least.”

Martha: *looks him up and down wondering if he’d let her cook a bunch of food for him* “Sure. Hey, I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before. Are you new to Smallville?”

Billy: “Yes. This is my first time here actually.”

Martha: “Oh? So you’re just here for the pie contest?”

Billy: “Yup. I’m gonna eat as much pie as I can, and then I’m gonna get the money.”

Martha: “Will you tell me if they’re good?”

Billy: “Sure? Why?”

Martha: “Cause me and my mom made all the pies for the competition!”

Billy: “Oh, that’s amazing!” *looks starstruck*

Martha: *sounds proud* “I know.”

Billy didn’t end up winning the competition. He actually ended up vomiting after his first pie because his little malnourished self couldn’t handle all of that. Martha was there though to clean him up with a rag. They got to know each other better after that and soon enough, Billy would transform into Marvel, fly over to Smallville, and hang out with her. Martha even got to know Freddy because he would sometimes fly over with Billy too. Then the time bubble happened and fast forward 50 years. Billy, after panicking about his entire life and everything he knows it being over, went to go see Martha, who was conveniently still near Smallville.

Billy: *knocks on the door*

Martha: “Coming!” *opens the door and looks around seeing no one*

Billy: “Down here.”

Martha: *looks down to Billy and pauses to stare*

Billy: “Heeeeeeeey Martha.” *awkward wave*

Martha continued to stare at him for a solid minute before she rubbed her eyes, and then rubbed them again for good measure.

Martha: “Billy…?”

Billy: “Martha…?”

Martha: “Oh- my… Oh my Gosh!” *kneels down so she can look him over even going as far as to pinch his little cheeks to make sure he’s real*

Billy: “Ow! Martha, stop!” *bats away her hands*

Martha: *keeps trying to pinch him aways* “Are you real?”

Billy: “Yes?”

Martha: *has seen too much nonsense due to Clark* “Well, if you’re the real Billy uhm… Where did we first meet?”

Billy: “A pie eating contest here?”

Martha: “Hmm… That might be too easy… What pies did I make for the contest?”

Billy: “Wha- I don’t know!? How am I supposed to remember that??”

Martha: “Okay… Too hard. How about you tell me something only you would’ve known about a fourteen year old me.”

Billy: “Like what?”

Martha: “Like something secret I told you.”

Billy: “Uhm… You had a crush on Elvis and said you wanted your future husband to be just like him?”

Martha: *stares before feeling herself cringe at her teenage self* “Okay, I’ll assume you’re the real Billy. Come in, bud.”

They caught up after that. They even decided to make pies together again. It was fun. You would just see them in the kitchen together talking about whatever, normally old lady stuff, and baking. Then, when Grandpa Kent came home…

Jonathan(Pa Kent): “Martha, I’m home!” *walks to the kitchen and pauses when he sees Billy and Martha*

Martha and Billy: *stare back at him*

Jonathan: “Martha is that an another grandbaby, clone, or cousin of Clark’s?”

Martha: “None of those. This is Billy. He’s a friend of mine.”

Jonathan: “Martha, you’re just befriending eight-year-olds now? Where are his parents?”

Billy: “They’re dead, mister! But don’t worry, me and Martha met back in ‘59. We go way back.”

Jonathan: *stares for a solid minute* “Wait a darn moment… were you caught up in all that Fawcett business?” *heard about it on the news*

Billy: “Yup!”

Martha: “What Fawcett business?”

That’s how Billy was led to explain the entirety of the time bubble and suspendium and all that. The Kents thankfully welcomed him with open arms. After this entire incident, Billy showing up to the farm was a regular occurrence. He could bake with Martha and help Mr. Jonathan out as much as he could on the farm. Then, one of the Kents other grandchildren showed up. (Billy was basically their grandbaby too, not that the Batson knew)

Jonathan: *trying to fix their tractor because it broke down for whatever reason*

Billy: *standing to the side, holding a toolbox and giving him tools whenever he asks*

Jon: *flies over from Metropolis* “Grandpa! Grandpa-” *does a double take when he sees Billy* “Wait, who’re you?”

Billy: “I’m Billy!”

Jonathan: “You heard him Jon. He’s Billy.”

Jon: *suddenly self-conscious of the fact that he’s flying in front of this kid and kinda just revealed his identity* “I’m uh… Jon.” *slowly floats down to land on the ground*

Billy and Jon: *stare at each other*

Jonathan: “Billy, can you pass me the diamond tip screwdriver?”

Billy: “Sure!” *passes it to him*

Yeah… Jon was a little confused as to who this random kid was. He was also a little confused as to why he refers to Jon’s grandpa has Mr. Jonathan but refers to Jon’s grandma as Martha. Did he live with grandma and grandpa? Is he another one of his dad’s cousins? Jon doesn’t think the boy’s a kryptonian but he might be wrong. Anyways, he’s making everything weird! Though it’s a sort of good kind of weird? His grandma is acting… younger? They also keep referencing things Jon has no idea about. (Late 50s pop culture) The kid- Billy, seems nice enough though. He has no problems playing with Jon so that’s awesome! Jon is so happy to have a friend away from home, but he’s still confused as to why Billy is at the farm.

Jon: “Dad, why do some people live on farms?”

Supes: “Because they’re farmers…?”

Jon: “No, but like what if they aren’t farmers, and they just help the farmers that are already there? Like one day they just showed up and decided to help around.”

Supes: “Well, I guess the closest thing you’re looking for would be a farmhand. Why are you asking?”

Jon: “Well, there’s this kid that lives with grandma and grandpa now-”

Supes: “WHAT?!”

Yeah, neither Ma Kent or Pa Kent have told Clark about this. It kind of slipped their minds.

Bonus interactions:

Before Pa Kent Came Home…

Billy: “Who’s that?” *looking at a photo of Pa and Ma Kent together*

Martha: “My husband.”

Billy: “Husband…?” *suddenly sad he missed a bunch of stuff from Martha’s life* “Oh…”

Martha: You sound upset. What’s wrong?

Billy: “Nothing.”

Twenty Years Ago When Clark Was Still a Kid…

Supes: Ma, who’s that? *looking at a photo of a nine year old Billy and a fourteen year old Martha*

Martha: “Oh, that’s Billy and I.”

Supes: “Who’s Billy?”

Martha: “An old friend of mine. He uhm… disappeared one day. I don’t know what happened to him.”

[diorstarkey]

Good Graces | 01

Rafe Cameron x Princess!Reader | series masterlist.

summary; Being the son of the President of the United States came with its fair share of responsibilities, but none as infuriating as this. To secure his father's re-election, Rafe Cameron was forced to spend weeks under the same roof as the Princess of England. Diplomacy, they called it. Torture, he thought. The last thing he needed was a spoiled royal ruining his summer. But between gala events, unexpected conversations, and stolen glances, Rafe realized the line between hate and attraction was thinner than he'd ever imagined.

warnings; no smut. reader is two years younger than rafe. english is not my first language. the images are for the aesthetic. 'forced marriage au' by @rafecameronssl4t inspired<3

author's note; this is my first series!!! hope you liked it, reblogs and comments are appreciated<3

The presidential ballroom was impeccably decorated, a display of luxury that Rafe found unnecessary and pretentious. He leaned against one of the high columns, watching the political and royal elite move like chess pieces on a board. Ward has talking to the King, your father, about something he wasn't paying attention and didn't bother to pretend to care about.

The ride over had been torturous enough. For the thousandth time, Ward lectured him on how to behave in front of the Royal Family, reminding him—again— not to embarrass him in front of "the most powerful allies we could ever have."

Now, as he stood there, arms crossed and mind elsewhere, he saw you enter to the ballroom. Your entrance was impossible to ignore, your dress shimmering as if the stars themselves had been woven into it. Everything about you was poised, practiced and perfect, from the tilt of your chin to the way you greeted the room with that ever–diplomatic smile.

When your gaze finally met his, your expression shifted slightly, and an eyebrow arched. You approached with purpose, the polite smile on your face as cold as the champagne being served.

"You should bow", you said, your British accent cutting through the noise around them.

Rafe didn't move, instead crossing his arms tighter. "And why would I do that?"

"Because I'm royalty" you replied matter-of-factly, through your smile remained polite.

"And I'm the President's son" Rafe shot back, his tone dry. "I'd say that makes us even, wouldn't you?"

Your smile tightened ever so slightly, but you didn’t back down. “Are you always this charming, or is it just when you’re forced to interact with people far more important than you?”

"Only when those people are wearing a crown and an attitude." he countered, smirking.

Before you could retort, a voice interrupted.

“Ah, there you are, Rafe!” Ward’s tone was overly cheerful, drawing both your attention. “Why don’t you and the Princess take a photo together? A perfect opportunity for the press, don’t you think?”

You exchanged a quick, reluctant glance with Rafe, silently agreeing on one thing for the first time: this was going to be a long night.

Rage groaned internally, but this well-practiced fake smile was already in place. He extended an arm toward you in mock politeness, his smirk sharp enough to cut glass. "After you, Your Highness. Don't want to break royal protocol now, don't we?"

You rolled your eyes, but your own diplomatic farcade never faltered. "How thoughtful of you, Mr. Cameron."

As you both moved toward the photo backdrop, flashes from cameras already began to light up the room. Rafe leaned in slightly, lowering his voice so only you could hear. “Smile big, Princess. The world’s watching.”

“I'd rather choke and believe me,” you replied through gritted teeth, “I’ve been smiling through worse company than yours.”

The photographer barked instructions as if posing next to someone you couldn’t stand wasn’t awkward enough. “Closer, please! Let’s see some warmth!”

Rafe, ever the troublemaker, slipped an arm lightly around your waist. “Anything for the press,” he muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You stiffened at the gesture, your eyes shooting daggers at him. “Get your hand off me before I make you regret it,” you hissed quietly, though your face maintained an air of perfect grace for the cameras.

“Relax,” Rafe replied, his grin widening. “I’m just playing the role your family paid for.”

“Paid for?” you echoed, your smile faltering for just a fraction of a second.

“Sure. Isn’t that what this is? A transaction? You play nice with us so my dad looks good, and in return, we keep your little kingdom relevant.”

Your eyes narrowed dangerously, and for a moment, you wondered if anyone would notice if you stabbed him with your heel. “Your arrogance is truly astonishing.”

“And your entitlement is truly exhausting,” Rafe shot back, his voice just low enough to keep your verbal sparring private.

“Perfect!” the photographer called out, breaking the tension. “You two have such natural chemistry. Just lovely.”

You stepped away from Rafe the second it was socially acceptable, smoothing down the fabric of your dress as if even proximity to him had somehow wrinkled it.

“I need a drink,” you muttered under your breath.

“Make it a double,” Rafe quipped, already heading toward the bar.

A few minutes later, you found yourself stationed next to Rafe at a small table as your families chatted about alliances, trade agreements, and other topics that seemed infinitely dull. You weren’t listening, of course. You were too busy internally debating whether it was worth the scandal to excuse yourself entirely.

Rafe, meanwhile, was stirring the ice in his glass with a look that screamed disinterest. His posture was casual, legs stretched out slightly under the table as if he were deliberately trying to take up as much space as possible.

“Enjoying yourself?” you asked, your tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Immensely,” he replied, taking a sip of his drink. “I especially enjoy sitting through conversations about ‘strengthening ties’ and ‘mutual benefits.’ Thrilling stuff, really.”

“Perhaps if you paid attention, you’d learn something,” you countered, keeping your voice neutral as possible.

“Perhaps if I wanted to listen to lectures, I’d go back to college,” he shot back.

You arched a brow. “Ah, yes. How could I forget? The prodigal son of the President, gracing the Ivy League with his presence. Did you even finish?”

Rafe’s smirk returned, though this time it was edged with something more genuine. “Touché, Princess. I did, actually. But I guess the finer details of my resume didn’t make it across the Atlantic.”

“Oh, I’m sure the tabloids covered it thoroughly,” you said. “Right next to your exploits at frat parties and your extensive collection of speeding tickets.”

He chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “You’ve done your homework. Impressive.”

“Unlike you,” you shot back, taking a sip of your champagne.

“Touché again,” he said, tipping his glass toward you in mock admiration. “You’re sharp. I’ll give you that.”

The conversation, sharp and biting as it was, didn’t go unnoticed. Across the room, Ward exchanged a glance with the King, who raised an eyebrow as if to say, Is this really going to work?

DIORSTARKEY — do not plagiarize, translate or copy my work.

[undercoveravenger]

Calm

Pairing: Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x Male!Reader

Requested: No

Summary: Former barracks bunny Soap coming to terms with having feelings for you.

Warnings: Suggestive, but no actual smut

-----

Johnny MacTavish has always had too much energy for his own good. He’s always had a leg bouncing or fingers tapping or something to tear apart and put back together during briefings, always been running his mouth during transits, always bouncing from person to person because he’s just too much for one person to handle.

He’s had a handful of partners through the years that get close, but no one that’s been able to hold up against his stamina. It’s probably why he’d become something of a barracks bunny in the last few years, shacking up with anyone who catches his fancy for half a second in an effort to curb his libido but he just can't get the same enjoyment out of it that he used to. The enthusiasm of the rookies eager to get a taste of him or the punishing way someone from upper command bends him over just don't do it for him anymore. 

None of them bring that same satisfying ache that you do. 

It’s the sweet way you hold him during makes him feel like he's not just a problem. Not some chore to be tolerated and dealt with and then pushed to the back of your mind to be forgotten about. It makes him feel like he's whole for a little while, at least until he forces himself out of your bed to start gathering his clothes, stumbling his way back into his underwear and cargos on numb legs and wishing he'd hear you tell him to stay but knowing that he can't let himself.

He can’t turn around. Can’t bring himself to check if you’re watching him - hoping he’ll come back to bed. Or worse, what if you’d just rolled over and closed your eyes? Ready to wash your hands of him and let him leave the way he always does?

He pauses then, shirt in hands and pants unbuckled around his hips. You’re the one person who has ever treated him like this. The only one who never bustled him out as soon as the sex ended or pushed him to stay when he didn’t feel like it. The only one who actually wore him out enough that he didn’t feel like he needed to seek someone else out for another round before bed. You’d always been careful to check in with him. Always willing to at least hear him out if he asked to try something without pushing him if he said no to one of your own requests. Always asking if he needed anything from you after.

“Why?” The question escapes him unbidden and it takes him a moment to realize it even came from him. “Why,” he says again, eyes fixed on the way his knuckles go white from gripping his shirt so tightly, “don’t you ever ask me to stay?”

It’s clearly not something you’d expected him to say, not from how long the silence stretches between you. 

“I didn’t think you wanted me to.” You’re looking at him, Soap notices when he turns to face you, whether you were or not before, you are now. Lying sprawled on your side, with one hand propping your head up, and your eyes are fixed on his and he’s not used to the intensity - not used to someone looking at him like that instead of with wandering eyes even when he is trying to be serious. “Everyone’s always talking about how you don’t stay. That you just want a bit of fun and then you go.” You shift onto your back and your breath escapes you in a huff and Johnny can feel his chest squeeze fondly at the sound. “Doubted you’d want me pushing your boundaries.”

He’s not sure what to say about that. That you hadn’t asked because you didn’t want him to be uncomfortable. He’d known you were a pretty stand up guy - there was a reason you were the one sent in to deal with victims or newly recovered prisoners, something safe about you that even a stranger could see. 

“And,” he says slowly, forcing himself to continue despite the pit in his stomach, “What if I’d asked to?”

The smile that crosses your features brings an unconscious one to Johnny’s own lips, “Then I’d ask which side of the bed you prefer,” you said, simple and matter of fact. Like him staying wasn’t even something you’d have to think twice to be alright with. 

Johnny nodded slowly, butterflies racing in his stomach as he thought about his options. How he could leave and go back to his usual habits and pretend this never happened, or how he could see how this went with you. He steels himself, suddenly feeling more vulnerable than he ever has on an op as he drops his shirt and kicks his cargos back off, moving to settle beside you on the bed. “Left side’s fine,” he says, grinning as he tugged the sheets back up over the both of you and tucked himself tight against your chest. 

If it gets him more nights like this with you, Johnny thinks he could certainly get used to the calm.

[tinkerbellknockoff]

chemistry // jinx x fem!reader

chemistry // college!jinx x fem!reader

you've never been the greatest at sciences- you were aware of that. being placed into general chemistry to fulfill a lab requirement for college forced you to face your fears: writing lab reports and talking to pretty teacher assistants.

- college au

warnings: cursing

-- a/n: gonna be slightly projecting when talking about how bad reader is at chemistry lol

you thought the cliche chemistry professor that made absolutely no sense was only for the movies. but sitting here on a stool, watching the professor measure and start mixing chemicals that you couldn't even catch the name of made you flabbergasted and honestly- a little bit annoyed.

at your university, you were required to take one semester of a laboratory class. that's only about what- four months? you thought that was going to be a breeze- just get it out of the way, and you'll never have to touch a science class again! hopefully.

it had been about two-ish weeks of your general chemistry class, and by whatever is holy... you were miserable. unfortunately for you, your lab partner seemed to be on the same wavelength as you: massively confused. which, in a way, could be comforting because hey- you're not alone! on the other hand... your grades are screwed. and, unfortunately, you actually cared about your gpa.

the second half of your misery came from the fact you loathed asking for help. throughout high school, it was a breeze being able to figure out solutions to all of your problems, but now... you basically had to find every single resource that could help you. and, unfortunately, none of them did. you've never felt more lost in your life, which is how you have led to your position now.

slipping your backpack over your right shoulder, you then lightly draped your lab coat over your arm as you walked up to your chemistry professor. you decided it was finally time for you to ask for help- and by god, did it take some encouragement. there were still a few stragglers in the room- there being the professor, you, a couple of your peers, and the gorgeous blue-haired teacher assistant.

her name was jinx. she was recommended by another chemistry professor- professor silco, if you remember his name right- which gave her the job opportunity to ta a few general chemistry classes. honestly, she had helped you out a couple of times- she was a saint.

on the other hand, she terrified the living hell out of you. jinx, in the simple two weeks that you have spent in this general chemistry lab (two times per week, so maybe four times in the lab total) showed how... chaotic she was. in the first class, she was idly lounging around in random spots of the classroom, sitting on tables with littered chemical substances, and playing with one of the bottles in her hands. you remember, in that class, she seemed bored since it was simply laboratory rules and basics- but ever since the class started doing experiments? she seemed like the happiest girl in the world.

the professor made pretty basic explanations to questions he was asked- he was a little sassy, though. he'd say your name repeatedly, chastising you, then go, "haha! i am joking. wasn't that funny?"

... no. it was never funny.

then jinx. she would quickly prance to you the second you had your hand raised, entering your personal space as she would begin rapidly explaining, and would sometimes even begin doing the experiment for you. you loved it when that happened. honestly, even throughout that chaotic nature, she would explain things decently well. she talked a lot, but she was still able to deliver her understanding pretty well. you admired her for that.

even though she was incredibly helpful, in all honesty- you hated when she would be the one to come after you raised your hand.

she was too pretty. you couldn't focus.

"well, toots," is how she would always begin the explanation for you. you couldn't quite catch if she called literally anyone else that, but it was almost humorous how she always started off with those two words. you almost felt special. then, it would be how she'd lightly grab your hips to move you out of her way so she'd be able to access the experiment better- and even with you on the side, her side would still be brushing yours.

when she spoke, she never spoke to both you and your lab partner. her pink eyes seemed to stare you down. you were too scared to break the eye contact, and the more you reciprocated the staring the more entertained she seemed to be, her violet eyes swirling. you couldn't take it.

that happened every. single. time.

and every single time you felt like you were going to burst.

so, talking to the professor, you hoped to god he would just offer his office hours.

"hello, professor," you spoke, eventually standing in front of his desk, and he turned to look at you. he gave a smile (a little bit chaotic, you thought this profession was great for him), and he said your name in greeting.

"how can i help you?"

"i was hoping there would be some sort of office hours i could go to..." you spoke, swallowing your pride, "i was looking for some help with the lab reports and saw that your office hours were for request only."

he hummed in acknowledgment, giving you an understanding look, "okay. have you checked the tutoring center?"

you nodded, "yeah. all of the open tutoring sessions for gen chem are all when i have other classes."

"that sucks a ton, toots."

her voice came out of what seemed like nowhere. the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, but you kept your seemingly relaxed demeanor as you turned your head into her direction, her eyes automatically locking onto yours. she already had a chaotic grin on her face, her pink eyes swirling with entertainment, "i could help ya out."

the professor seemed to not care for jinx's bubbly behavior, "could you, jinx? your times would possibly be more flexible than mine."

.... fuck.

jinx eagerly nodded, "don't worry about it. would be an honor to give a pretty girl some help!"

was that appropriate to say?

the professor didn't have a care in the world as he thanked jinx, and then waved you two off, telling them to go schedule times to be able to meet, and giving the reassurance that he would be able to for extra support if you needed it.

you walked out of the lab, jinx seeming hot on your tail. she loosely grabbed her bag along the way, it hanging off her shoulder in a similar fashion to yours. eventually, in the hallway, you turned to face her properly. all you had to do was schedule some times, leave, eventually actually do the meetings, then bam! you're done! don't have to be threatened by a pretty girl no longer!

"so, toots. wanna talk about times over dinner?" jinx winked at you.

you had to take a sharp inhale after that. oh my gosh? was this professional? was this allowed? you don't think she cared. at all, actually.

"cat got your tongue?" jinx looked amused at your silence, her violet eyes staring at your expression, looking like a deer in headlights. "you're very expressive."

you cleared your throat, deciding to ignore that comment. takes one to know one. eventually, you found your words, "... fine. right now?"

you got it! look, you can talk to her. nice and easy!

her entertained expression and grin never left her face as she nodded her head, her bright blue hair bouncing in the movement. "i mean, when else could i possibly catch ya?"

"i dunno, email exists." you retort, you don't see her the reason for her to insist on going out to dinner to make plans.

"boring!" jinx continued grinning at you. doesn't her face ever start to hurt, "we can just go to the dining hall! c'mon, toots, don't be a snoozefest."

and to that, you finally caved in. her excitement seemed to elevate even more than it originally was as she started to basically bounce off the walls (not really, you're being dramatic), grabbing your hand. you were practically yanked, having to hold the lab coat in your arm tighter to make sure it didn't get dropped on the way. she energetically spoke to you the entire way, effortlessly guiding you, not caring if you were stumbling at any moment. you were surprised her relatively small statue had this much muscle. she was acting like she took 5 shots of expresso and did a line of coke.

hopefully, she didn't actually do that.

she kept rambling your head off as you both waited in line for your food. your dining hall offered an assortment of shops, which led you to get pasta, and right now you were waiting in line for the burger shop next to jinx. she eventually let your hand go, but you noticed over time that she always was touching you in some fashion. right now, her bicep was brushing against yours, her head tilted in your direction as she rambled on about some sort of engineering project she had taken up. you learned through her talking that she was a biochemical engineering major. so, basically, she was super smart. you're a psychology major, which caused her to erupt in a small fit of laughter when you told her,

"so what are you doing in chemistry, toots?! why not take like... i dunno, meteorology!"

that elicited a pout from you, scoffing, causing jinx to look at you with amusement in her eyes as she laughed harder, "you're so funny, toots! i couldn't get enough of you."

she was proving her statement.

you and jinx ate dinner together, and after some coaxing of the conversation, you got her to agree to a few study sessions over the next couple of months. every other sunday you two would meet up at the library, and have about a two-hour session covering the content from the prior two weeks. that sounded fair enough. you didn't know if two hours was necessary, but jinx insisted, believing that was the "sure way to shove everything into your noggin". you were humored by her wording of it.

even after you both had long finished your food, she insisted on sitting with you for a little bit longer, claiming that she was having the time of her life getting to know you. her behavior made you so flushed- but you tried your damned hardest to refrain from it showing. you tried desperately to act nonchalant, which jinx continuously called your bluff on, leading you to be super defensive, to which she would continue to tease you more.

"c'mon, toots!" jinx giggled. she was sitting across from you at a table, her elbow resting on top and her hand holding her head as she kept her other hand on the table, tapping her nails rhythmically, "tell me more about ya."

you were reclined back, slightly hunched in the seat as you hummed thoughtfully. your arms were crossed in front of you, which jinx found humorous. she could tell you were still a little bit shy.

"what do you want to know?" you humored jinx.

"anything. anything at all, as long as it's about you," jinx winked in your direction, her eyes never once leaving your direction, "... any... boyfriend?"

that question startled you. your eyes met hers once more. she was lightly chewing on the bottom of her lip, her eyes basically devouring you as she waited for your answer in anticipation. jinx's breath basically hitched in her throat with excitement as you shook your head,

"no. broke up with my girlfriend before college."

jinx clearly seemed giddy after your statement, only a blind man wouldn't be able to tell. you examined her behavior after, blinking, your thoughts finally catching up to you.

holy shit. you basically felt yourself erupt into flames, could she like me?

"aww, damn, toots!" jinx said, but the sympathy rolling off her tongue was feigned, "that sucks. any reason why?"

you shrugged, sitting up and fixing your posture, folding your elbows onto the table and leaning forward. "wasn't a good fit. you live and you learn, i guess. what can you do?"

jinx understood, her thoughts racing with pure excitement. jinx realized she had a chance- and she wasn't the one to let chances slip up.

so, for the next couple of months, she used the tutoring sessions as an excuse to get to know you. she would claim every half hour that you two had to take a break, and then ask you questions about your day, your week, and everything that could come to mind. you warmed up to her behavior, which made her feel so elated- you began to reciprocate all of her talking. she loved talking to you.

so, when your last session came, jinx was bummed. jinx stared at you longingly, which you didn't seem to notice as you flipped through the data you had gathered during your most recent lab, scanning between it and the lab report, making sure that you didn't miss anything important. you, with the help of jinx, were doing stellar in chemistry. you couldn't have thanked jinx more.

you brought your bag up onto your lap to grab a few folders, slipping the papers inside, packing up. jinx continued to stare at you longingly, her pink eyes unusually soft as she stared you down. eventually, you glanced up, meeting her eyes. she quickly changed her expression, looking more neutral.

"jinx, i really thank you enough," you spoke up, her heart soaring at the praise. but that elation dropped as she saw you stand up, causing her to quickly follow behind, moving to walk beside you as you two began to leave the library.

"it was really nothing, toots. what was i meant to do, let a pretty girl like you fail?"

those words sounded like something she said at the very beginning of all this. that caused a laugh to slip out of your lips as you bumped your shoulder gently with hers. she pushed the door open for the two of you, the cold winter air hitting the two of you in a gust.

walking a little further away from the door, you two stopped and stared at each other for a moment. jinx for once felt the words catch in her throat as her eyes met yours. you looked so cute, your nose slightly turning red from the winter air hitting your face.

you noticed her gaze. her pupils were blown as she was dead silent, something very uncharacteristic for jinx, causing you to examine her eyes with yours. when she noticed this, she met your gaze, both of you seeming to devour each other with your eyes, before you cleared your throat.

"so, this is it, huh?" you sheepishly giggle, holding onto the straps of your side satchel. your words, as corny as it is to say, almost broke jinx's heart on the spot then. it was just tutoring- why did she feel like it was the end of the world?

"... i hope it's not." jinx spoke, her voice abnormally quiet. your eyebrows rose at her unusual demeanor, your head tilting and causing your hair to flow to the side. jinx's eyes looked over every single one of your movements, absolutely infatuated with the way you moved- the way you were you.

no one had ever been any more perfect in her eyes.

"how do you mean?"

jinx cleared her throat, "would it be bad if i did something right now? that... you may or you may not like?"

your eyebrows furrowed at the question. what the hell did that mean? but, as your lips parted, you weren't given the option to question her as she grabbed the sides of your face with her clammy and cold hands, smashing her lightly chapped lips against your soft ones.

the kiss was startling for you, your eyes open wide in shock, being able to see the way that jinx so harshly had her eyes closed, her hands keeping you right against her. as if you would slip through her fingers. so, after finding your bearings, you finally closed your eyes, relaxing as you began to reciprocate the kiss.

jinx felt like she was on cloud nine, holding you as tightly as possible against her. your lips tasted like heaven to her, her being able to taste the chapstick that she saw you always use, one that she always watched glaze over your lips. she was doing what she fantasized about doing for so fucking long.

and to her excitement, you were kissing her back.

after a few moments, she parted the kiss panting. both of your eyes fluttered open as you both lightly panted, small puffs of white smoke leaving your mouths. you locked eyes with hers, both of your pupils blown wide. you were both impossibly close to each other, allowing you to hear jinx's faint whisper,

"i like you," her eyes scanned over your face, "a lot."

a laugh left your mouth. she loved hearing your laugh- but in this context, it almost made her petrified until she saw the bright smile that was on your lips.

"i like you, too."

[atangledfate]

It was probably wise to let Blaze do the talking and negotiations. She was a Royal and had probably taken classes or had some training and experience that they just didn't have. Lanolin was doing great but he had seen enough to know she wasn't great when she got frustrated or angry. They needed someone like Blaze who could keep a level head when she had to.

" I agree with Blaze on this... She should do the talking, none of us are diplomats or negotiators by trade. She's probably the most qualified of us... and right now we need experience..."

He sighed at belle giving her a glance as he somewhat agreed with both her and Kit.

" Well i like to think he was being kind in giving us an hour. But... it was also probably to stress us out. Make us worry, panic, and see how we'd react to the situation... but, i do agree with Belle. Until he proves he's a threat... we should assume he's on the up and up... but that said--- we should take everything he says with a grain of salt..."

Miles scratched his own Chin as Rowan was probably right but he had a better question. What was GUN really after? What as there end goal? This had to have some bigger picture right? Why risk ruining GUNs reputation? There was something missing and he just didn't know what it was yet.

" I'm tellin' ya right now...the guy stinks! everything about this feels wrong... my gut tells me they are up to no good! an a good PI always follows there GUT! "

===============================================

She laughed a little at Surge, though it sounded kind of sad and depressed. She rubbed her own cheek as she thought about herself as normal. She never told any of them about why she was there, why she was fighting so hard or why she refused to back down. They all had there motivations and reasons to fight---hers was probably the worst reason of all.

She just wanted Revenge...

" ... I'm anything but normal... and i should have listened to Whisper. She spotted him near day one and i... blindly defended him. I just thought... i knew better... "

She rubbed her arm and glanced away from Surge not sure how she felt on the matter. But she knew she fucked up, and had to somehow make amends with whisper later.

" I just... get so caught up in trying to be a good leader i forget to listen to my team. I thought i knew better... i thought... i thought i could make us ready so we wouldn't be caught again. I don't want a situation like Eggperial city again... but i walked right into his trap... like a fool...But, i won't make that mistake again...ever again "

" Yea, the Director... Jewel never showed up at the command center and i'm worried about her. She should have been with Vector... but she wasn't there. So i wanna check the infirmary...maybe she got hurt during the landing and is being cared for. She's not a fighter... but Restoration won't run without her... she keeps us running smoothly... you might not realize it but without Jewel everything falls apart...we need her... "

She sighed and held out her hand to Surge

" We should get going...we have less then an hour now... and we still have alot to do..."

"If it came to asking him questions then maybe I should be the one to ask. I have never attempted any form of communication with the leader of Mobius before, though I guess now is as good a time as any." Blaze wasn't even sure where she stood on relations with G.U.N, though beyond the damage Eggman Nega caused her involvement here has never caused any problems.

"Well, he did give us an hour to let us get things in order to some degree. I suppose I simply dislike judging someone without getting to know them." Maybe Belle was playing devils advocate quite a bit right now, though she just liked to be as hopeful as she can be. After all, Thawne was the President so he couldn't do anything too crazy without looking bad. That offered a small amount of leeway.

"That all depends if G.U.N actual needed an hour to set something up which is why he gave it to us and keep our focus elsewhere." Kitsunami was sure that was a stretch, though who knows what G.U.N has up their sleeves. After all, The Restoration has a lot of power houses here right now, and three powerful speedsters as well.

"Eh, anything else would be overkill if you ask me. Besides, I wouldn't be surprised if by this point the whole word was watching what's going on. So now they'll have to be careful of what they do just as much as us going forward. If they misstep it'll be a PR nightmare for them." Rowan wouldn't be surprised if there were news vans all over the place by now as G.U.N doesn't move without getting noticed.

===========================================================

"And here I thought you were the normal one out of the group. Guess all our weirdness finally got to you too." Surge still found it hard to believe any of them even liked her, even a little bit. Kitsunami did a way better job at getting along with them than she did, if you didn't count the times he would insult their level of intelligence. Most of that was directed at Tangle.

"Don't go trying to take credit for my fuck up. Mimic would've been found out way sooner if I wasn't covering for his ass when needed. Not to mention I was the one dumb enough to work for someone like Clutch." Surge didn't need Lanolin trying to blame herself when most of this was her fuckup. The only thing she didn't do was cause G.U.N to knock at their fucking door.

"Jewel?" Surge would have to think for a moment before remembering who that was. "Oh, the director chick. Gonna be honest, I never really talked to her. Though the fact she isn't glued to the command center now is weird, right? Maybe I should make a quick run around the base." Surge may not know Jewel well, though knew they were dedicated so even she found it odd they weren't at the command center. The tenrec would grab Lanolin's arm before dashing off at high speeds.

[stylesluxx]

all of the girls you loved before – a. hotchner

[warnings: none]

summary: in which y/n is grateful for aaron's experiences – inspired by all of the girls you loved before by taylor swift

word count: 773

main masterlist

You've heard the stories before, the whispered mentions of the women that had come before you. Each one left a mark on him, a trace you sometimes wondered if you could see in the way he moved, the way he held you when you felt his steady hands against your back. Aaron Hotchner didn't often talk about them, but in the quiet moments, their presence lingered like a ghost in the room, a history you couldn't touch but could feel.

It wasn't jealousy, exactly. It was more the weight of knowing you weren't his first love, that he had lived entire lifetimes before you. Maybe you'd catch him staring off into the distance, his jaw tight as memories flickered across his face. You never pried, though the questions sometimes bubbled at the back of your throat. He would have told you if he wanted to, you reminded yourself.

But tonight was different. Tonight, something between you shifted.

You were sitting together on the porch, the soft hum of autumn night air around you, the distant sounds of traffic on the street below a low murmur. The team was away on a case, but for once, he wasn't. He had stayed behind, citing exhaustion, though you knew it wasn't just about fatigue. He needed time. Space. And you were here for him, silently offering the support he rarely let himself ask for.

Aaron sipped his drink, his fingers grazing the glass as he looked out into the darkened sky. You followed his gaze, wondering where his mind had drifted this time. His silence wasn't unusual, but there was a tension tonight that made the air between you feel thicker than usual. Finally, he spoke, his voice soft, like he wasn't sure he was ready for the words.

"I don't think I've ever told you about Haley."

His ex-wife. You'd heard her name before, of course, but he rarely mentioned her. Even now, years after her death, the grief still hung in his eyes when he did. You turned slightly, giving him your full attention, heart tightening as you prepared yourself for whatever he needed to say.

"She was... everything to me. For a long time." He let out a breath, his thumb tracing the rim of his glass. "And when I lost her, I didn't think I could feel that way again. About anyone."

You didn't speak, just listened, knowing this wasn't something you could fix. This was something he had to let out, piece by piece.

"I wasn't looking for this, for us." His eyes met yours, and for a moment, the world stopped turning. "But somehow, you're here."

He shifted, setting his drink aside and taking your hand in his. His fingers were warm against yours, grounding you as his gaze softened, the weight of years of pain and love swirling in his eyes.

"I used to think the past would always have this hold on me, that I'd never be able to let go of all the girls I loved before. But then I realized... they led me here. To you."

Your breath caught, the weight of his words pressing into your chest. You didn't need him to explain further. You knew what he meant—that every love, every loss, every heartbreak had shaped him into the man sitting beside you. And somehow, through all of it, he had found his way to you.

He squeezed your hand, a silent reassurance that he was here, with you, now.

"I don't regret any of it," he continued, his voice quieter now. "Because without it, I wouldn't have you. And that's something I wouldn't trade for anything."

The tears welled in your eyes before you could stop them, the emotion of his confession wrapping around your heart. You'd always known there was a part of him that would forever belong to the past, to Haley, to the life he had before. But now, hearing him say it, you realized it wasn't about competing with those memories. It was about understanding that you were part of his story now, a chapter he hadn't expected but cherished all the same.

You leaned in, resting your head on his shoulder as he pulled you closer, the unspoken understanding settling between you. There was no need for more words, not tonight. You both knew that love wasn't about erasing the past—it was about accepting it, embracing it, and realizing that every step along the way had led to this moment.

And in that moment, you realized something too.

You were glad for all the girls he loved before, because without them, without everything he had been through, you might never have found your way to him.

And now that you had, you weren't going to let go.

[AN: oh hey... I think I'm going to do febuwhump to get out of my writing slump. I'll keep you guys updated. I also have a ko-fi account now??? no pressure but it's link in my navigation and here! and of course... my taglist. lmk your thoughts. love you byeee]

[asexualenjolras]

I have seen a lot of Enjolras and Grantaire pairings over the years, but none have ever seemed more like boyfriends than James D. Gish and Connor Jones on the Les Misérables Arena Spectacular tour, and I need to talk about it.

James' Enjolras is so confident and is so committed to the revolution, but he is also very human and very soft with Grantaire and Gavroche. Througout the show they are seen together like a little family unit, and you can see that Enjolras cares for them both. He's conflicted throughout the show, and is very protective over them both.

Connor's Grantaire (and I say this every time I see him) is another level - he is so brick accurate and he portrays Grantaire with so much care. He's the usual drunken R, but he is so gentle and he feels things so deeply. He's anxious, and emotive and cynical, but he wears a mask and pretends to be okay. He's so aware of everything going on and he cares about his friends. And he cares about Gavroche; he's like the little brother that he never had. And he is so enamoured with Enjolras - he doesn't take his eyes off him for more than 2 minutes the whole time they're on stage. Connor Jones Grantaire will always be my favourite.

During Look Down, James' Enjolras is so confident. You can see how much the cause matters to him, and you really believe in him. And he's so human in Red & Black - he's clearly a little bit nervous, but when he looks to Grantaire and sees that he is smiling at him, he gets a boost of confidence. It's really sweet, and I've never seen that before. When he sings "don't let the wine go to your brains", he's poking fun at Grantaire and offers him a cheeky smile, which makes Grantaire laugh too.

Connor's Grantaire holds his wine bottle up to the roof in reply, laughing, and is reprimanded by another student. He, playfully, stands to attention and listens to Enjolras again following that. He goes towards Enjolras once he finishes singing, but immediately stops when Marius walks in and takes to teasing him. Enjolras speaks to the other students and intervenes before they can tell Grantaire off and tells them he will sort it. But he can't help himself but laugh at him when he's teasing Marius. He pulls himself together and continues with the song, keeping his eyes on Grantaire to make sure he's listening and he looks so proud of himself when he realises he's getting through to him.

Until Grantaire and Marius start up again, and then he looks so defeated but, again, can't help but smile. He's rolling his eyes but he's laughing because he just can't help it when he's watching Grantaire. It was so sweet.

It really was as if he was torn between upsetting Grantaire, and upsetting the rest of the Amis. And it worked really well. He was so relieved at the end of the song when Grantaire stopped joking around. He verbally said "YES" when Grantaire said "give me brandy on my breath and I'll breathe them all to death".

THESE TWO. They are such boyfriends.

Grantaire looks so concerned when Gavroche tells the Amis that Lamarque has died, and he runs straight over to him to make sure he's safe as the students prepare. He takes such a big drink of his wine and forces a smile onto his face for Enjolras. Enjolras constantly looks at Grantaire during the song, and Grantaire is doing the same but with so much love and pride in his eyes. James' Enjolras is so confident in what he believes in, but he is so soft with Grantaire and I really love that choice. While Grantaire stands with Gavroche, Enjolras is constantly seen walking over to them both and they really do seem like a little family. 

As Grantaire sings "let's give them a screwing they'll never forget", Enjolras looked at him with so much pride and smiled so wide once the words processed in his mind. 

After Èponine died, Enjolras was looking behind himself like a lost puppy and Grantaire stumbled forward and offered him his hand with so much desperation to try and help the man he loves. But Enjolras pulled away from the hold when Valjean clambered onto the barricade, leaving Grantaire holding his arm out. Gavroche gave him a little nudge but R looked so broken and upset. He literally growled the "a volunteer like you" line through gritted teeth.

After Enjolras shoots down his "so the war is won" line, he shakes his head and rolls his eyes as he walks to the back of the stage. It's at this point that you can see that Grantaire is really understanding that they're all going to die. He drinks some more and sits with Gavroche as Valjean and Javert have their confrontation.

At the start of Drink With Me, Grantaire stumbles (again) to the front of the stage, looking around at his friends and taking in what they're saying. He holds his arms up and then a few of the Amis stand up and storm towards him as he sings his part (with such a broken voice). But before they can get to him, Enjolras pulls them back and pushes them away from Grantaire, and they both look at each other on the "will the world remember you when you fall?" line, with Enjolras placing a comforting hand on Grantaire's shoulder.

But Grantaire pushes him away in his hurt and frustration, and Enjolras looks so concerned and upset. He looks around at the other students to see whether they're all watching too before just staring at R with so much sadness. He tries again to comfort him, putting both of his hands on his shoulders and leading him away as Gavroche runs up to them and throws his arms around him.

AND THE LOOK ON ENJOLRAS' FACE. OH MY GOD. IT SAID SO MUCH.

He wanted so much to be the one to hug Grantaire, you could tell. He was trying so hard not to cry, and it was gut-wrenching. He looked so sad, and so broken, and let out such an exasperated breath (he looked like he was going to have a panic attack, I'm not exaggerating) before forcing a smile onto his face for the other students.

The death scene is staged a little differently in the Arena Spectacular, but Grantaire still holds Gavroche and he still looks around for Enjolras and Enjolras gives him a small nod before they're both killed (do you permit it? vibes).

During Empty Chairs at Empty Tables, Enjolras, Grantaire and Gavroche stand together at the top of the stage like the little family that they are, and are together at the end for the finale too.

In conclusion, I love them, your honour. James D. Gish and Connor Jones will go down in history for their ExR. I hope we get an official recording with this cast, or I hope they do a stint in London in the future.

They ARE Enjoltaire.

[lookingcoolakira]

persona 5 royal, but in which akira is self-aware. aware that he is a puppet on a string bound by another human of some other realm. he notices there are times in the day where he is alone, empty, with nothing controlling him, like in the mornings or afternoons while he is at school. during other times, however, he has no control over his own existence. he opens his phone to see text messages from ann, ryuji and yusuke. he wants to give yusuke some space after everything he's been through. he wants to see ann because she's been lonely. his fingers type a reply to yusuke instead. he listens to what his friend has to say, but he only has two or three thoughts in his head to say in response. none of them sound like something he would say on his own, but yusuke seems happy enough. they are closer than ever before.

akira wants to do his own thing in the evenings. he'd rather be alone after that very stressful experience. but yet again, he is taking a train to kichijoji, only to have akechi say he is busy and can't see him. akira walks away and watches akechi stand outside for hours, never moving. he chooses to play darts with other people, yet he is not throwing of his own accord. he has never played before. how does he get a perfect score? he does not want a relationship with his own teacher. he is too young to even think about it. yet he finds himself accepting, even though that is the last thing he wants.

he is aware that in the metaverse, the control over him tightens to unbearable levels. he can't even move my himself, being dragged along by fate as he attacks shadow after shadow, even when his injured body is being dragged along by this mysterious force. he gets struck by a shadow. he feels his body falling. of course he's angry that he died, there is so much that needs to be done in the world, but he is free from that demon at last. maybe his next life will be his own, he'll be in control like he was before he moved go yongen-jaya for a year.

he opens his eyes in a saferoom. he hears queen talking with oracle about their next move. they had this conversation before, way back before joker began to get so reckless. crow looks at him strangely. no one else notices. before joker can say anything, he is being dragged towards the door, and everything begins again.

[thevoidstaredback]

Constantine stared down every single hero in front of him. The meeting had been too short notice to get everyone up to the Watchtower, but the ones he needed to talk to the most were there. He’d been standing at the head of the table with his arms crossed and a hostile glare for ten minutes. It wasn’t often he got to see these heroes squirm and he was reveling in it.

“When I was officially made a member of the Justice League, I gave a very clear ultimatum which resulted in the Justice League Dark.” he began, his voice betraying none of the rage in his eyes. “None of you are equipped to deal with the supernatural or the occult, which is why we have a team for that. A team with very specific rules to be followed. Do I need to lay them out for you all again?”

“What’s this about-?”

He did nothing to change his posture, nor did he hold up a hand to silence the speaker, but his eyes did narrow. “Do I need-” a loathsome half beat. “-to lay out our rules for you all, again?” It was less of a question and more of a demand. He didn’t wait. “Take out a goddamn paper and take some fucking notes.” He finally turned away from them, the projector turning on at his command.

The Justice League knew that the man was pissed, obvious by the way he held himself. Normally, he was irate and standoffish, his posture slightly hunched, always standing at the ready to flee in some way, rather than fight. Despite that, his head never fell and he made sure to meet the eyes of everyone he spoke to as though they were equal in every way. His way of speaking, similarly, was that of, not a confident man, but of someone who knew what they were talking about. The language he used indiscriminately gave the illusion of relaxation and nonchalance, his smoking and drinking habits only furthered this.

Somehow, Constantine, in this moment, had made himself bigger than the Justice League. He stood tall, his shoulders squared and his back straight, head tilted up as though he was looking down on the heroes. His eyes were narrow, his stance solid, but no visible weapons. He was more confident than they’d ever seen him, seeming as though he was going to overturn the authority of Hell and place himself a king.

It was his voice and speech, though, that made them think twice about the situation, Demanding to be listened to, like a general punishing insubordination. No noticeable changes in the words he spoke from normal, but the lilt and the tone more than compensated.

Overall, he looked ready to fight every single one of them. He acted as though there was no doubt that he would win. They were inclined to believe that.

“As heroes and diplomates,” because Constantine is neither, “it is your job to study, learn, and accommodate for other species and their cultures. This goes beyond different worlds and straight into different dimensions. There are beings out there that you don’t want to fuck with. Dangerous beings. While you guys deal with the worlds and beings of our dimension, the JLD deals with other dimensions running both parallel and into our own. We’re stretched thin as it is, we don’t need you bloody twats fucking it all up for us!” He didn’t raise his voice, but it was a near thing. “Deadman, Madame Xanadu, Shade, Changing Man, Zatanna, and myself made it clear that we were to be contacted should even a hint of magic be detected. It’s a precautionary measure for everyone’s safety. Detective Chimp, Doctor Fate, Ragman, Etrigan, Zatanna, and I expect those same measures to be upheld. Unfortunately, you’ve all fallen quite lax with that. WIth Shazam being on your team, I would’ve thought you would know the consequences of magic by now, but Phantom’s unofficial addition to the JLD has proved me to be sorely mistaken.” He clicked the clicker.

The first slide was a proclamation of Dead, Undead, and Undying. “As I’m sure you’re all familiar, the weakest of supernatural creatures live on a plane directly connected to ours. It sits directly on top of ours like a sheen of dust. Weak Points in the veil are quite common; poltergeist activity, hauntings, possessions, cold spots, things in the corner of your eye, sounds you can’t explain, et cetera. The strongest of supernatural beings don’t make up that dust coating. Instead, they live in a section of what is Named-” the clicker clicked again, “-the Infinite Realms.” He paused for a moment as though waiting for them to write that down. No one was. His eye twitched. “Every dimension you can think of, every universe, every afterlife, every pre-life, every concept- it all feeds into the Realms. She is an unforgiving Mistress and an even harsher Mother.”

Flash raised his hand tentatively and waited until Constantine nodded at him, though he knew it was full of irritation. “Um, why are- What brought this on?”

John Constantine is a man of near constant patience, despite how he portrays himself. He doesn’t act rashly when he can afford to lay in wait. He is a man of secrets, holding his knowledge to his chest until sharing saves more lives than it would harm. He does not take to people, but he protects those he does.

John Constantine as a limit, as all beings do.

He slammed his hands on the table hard enough to shake it. The heroes startled. “Because someone bloody well fucked up, near irreparably!”

“What’re you-”

“Shut it, Diana!” He seethed. “You all pressed on issues you have no business pressing! That got into the minds of your sidekicks-”

“Proteges,” Green Arrow whispered.

Constantine heard him. “-your sidekicks that they could press the same topics!”

It was Superman who interrupted this time, “What does this-?”

John was obviously beyond controlling his temper, but he managed to rein himself in enough to bite out, “The Infinite Realms is watched - not ruled - over by a King and his or her council.” He skipped most of the slides, stopping exactly three from the end. “The US Government nearly unleashed a war between the Realms and our dimension about twenty-four years ago. This didn’t happen because Phantom caught the missile launched into the Realms and diffused the situation, though relations were nonexistent until one year before he introduced himself to you all. Now, those relations are flimsy at best.” He turned to face away from the heroes. “Yours and your sidekicks’ little stunt may have just turned the Realms and Her denizens hostile upon us.”

The room was suddenly filled with a suffocating air. Breathing became difficult and everybody stiffened like corpses strung to rot.

Magic has a distinct feel to it, letting those sensitive to it feel it out. Each spell has a different smell, but each magic user has a distinct taste. The room, once smelling, tasting, and feeling of nothing, was npw consumed by Constantine’s magic.

“Phantom is currently MIA.” A lie, but they don’t need to know that. He turned back to face them. “As usual, I have to go fix your bloody mess.” He didn’t utter another word as he left the room, the sound of the door sliding shut behind him was defining in the room. Exactly two minutes later, the heroes could move again.

Batman was the first to stand. All he did was grab the clicker and restart the slideshow. There was no one there to explain anything, but he could do the research on his own.

Part 8 Part 10

[moominmanoneandonly]

Soo some time ago i started writing my first ever fanfic. It's an Transformers au, basically the retelling of how Orion and Megatron meet focused on gladiator lifestyle + all that class diffrence and Cybertron drama with some Megasound love. Haven't touched it in a while but I believe it's not a lost couse yet.

That said english is not my first language and I have Dyslexia so forgive me for all mistakes that I know are there and any type of opinion about the work would be both a great help and big motivation to continue it.

Ships: Megop, Megasound, KOBD, BulkJack, Dratchet, Megastar(but not really)

Warnings: sugestive topics, mentions of prostitution, very bad fights descriptions,

Title in works

Celling lights were flickering once again. Technically they should've been fixed by staff some time ago but no one really cared about better quality of living or honestly anything concerning gladiators in the Pits that didn't involved fighting.

Megatronus wasn't exactly bothered by a such small think like flickering lights, however he did belive that one day they're gonna give him a seizure.. not today trought.

With a loud clank bigger mech get up from his berth trying to mentally prepere for the upcoming cycle. From what he remembered he only had one big fight today, some meanigless browl with a "Kalis Champion" that was supose to "finally break his wining streak."

Megatron seen recordings of the bot fighting before so he could tell that it was just another marketing attempt and not an actual challenge, he will be able to deal with that scrap easily.. of course making sure that the audience is entertained.

The thing that actually bothered him was what's gonna happend right after the fight. The arena workers were going crazy for last few chords, non stop beeping about upcoming gala that was going to happen on this day. He heard them talking about some big names showing up, even something about "Prince of Vos" if gladiator's memory was right.

Technically those events were supose to be good, they gave a chance to taste some better quality energon and assured a free day right after, since all superiors would be to out of it to care about organizing fights.

But then comes the bad part. The "quality time with sponsors" as his superiors liked to call it. Megatron was honestly quite lucky since his frame was pretty big and his overall build not that arousing to the most of cybertonian sociaty, he rarely get more that one client at those types of events. Soundwave for example had it far worse, with his smaller frame and considerably attractive features. Which was exactly why Megatron made sure to send his dear friend to emergency room just last cycle.

It sounds brutal for an outsider but considering that basically none of his matches tended to stay alive it was obliviously a staged gesture. That said it still did quite some damage to his companians body for those he promised himself to get as much high value emergon as he can today to give his poor friend, maybe also steal some spare parts for cassetes if he's lucky.

For some reason Soundwave seemed to get more and more iritated lately anytime Megatron went to those events without him. He even witnessed him sulking at some point which gladiator didn't even know the cassete player was capable off.

Yeah he really needs to repay Soundwave for all that time in recovery room.

- - -

Walking trought the many corridors of Keons arena he tried to plan his cycle accordingly, he still need to train in the morning otherwise Tarn will get his ass and that mech did not had ANY prefrences in terms of size or build, so yeah he is not letting his "not yet violated by Tarn" achivement disapear today. Otherwise till the fight he still had some free time, maybe he could write down some of the poems or get to finish that data-pad that he stole the last time there was a gala.

After the fight he would have to go to Knockout to make sure he "look his best for the party". Those visits really were something. Mainly tiresome but sometimes it was genuinly funny to see the red mech lose his mind over all those ways he tried to make Megatron apealing, he would said stuff like "I swear to Primus if you wear those black heels again I'm going to cut off your pedes!" and stuff like that.

It was quite exhousting lot of the time but i was also suprisingly educating the rest.

Somehow Knockout with his limited medical knowledge and beautifying talent was able to offer a better information sources than even Soundwave himself. The amount of gossip coming out of the race car could fill in an entire archive on it's one. Sure only 10% of it was usefull but with that amount of given informations it was still a lot.

"Maybe he will know something about the politics this time," Megatron trought.

The last few visits at the salon he spend listening to Knockout ranting about some poor blue mech that he chose to be his future conjux altrought the bot is suposely in some comitted relationship.

Talking to the red race car about morality of his action was like trying to teach an insecticon how to read, those Megatron had to sit still for arks while medic was gushing over his moraly questionable crush.

Now he kinda prayed that the bots ended up together becouse otherwise he's probably going to shot himself today and his dream political carrer will end even before it properly started.

" Attention everybody todays main fights will start in 7 arcs, be prepered for the ring at least an arc beforehand!"

A loud screeching voice came out from the old speakers hanging from a nearby wall. "Perfect" trought Megatron "that's enought time for him to finish his workout read the old datapad and perhaps even mentaly preper for the night. Who knows maybe he will be lucky enough to not fit to any of the guest tastes." With a new hope for this cycle Megatron fully concentrated on his training, quietly counting tics until his next break.

....

Did Orion ever mentioned that he doesn't like gladiators fights? Becouse he really doesn't. They are messy, unnecessarly cruel and honestly world would be better without them in clarks modest opinion. That said Orion never actually seen one nor was ever intrested enought to learn about them.. until now.

For once in his life he really regretted his ignorance

Just last chord he find out that his favorite author was no one else but one of the gladiators from the Pit itself. What even more shocking, he didn't just write those amazing works that Orion had laying on his bearth and any free desk in his romm, but he publicaly talked about them in the middle of his fights.

"Megatronus" A name he first assumed was an peculiar aposthrope to the great Prime turned out to be a much more fitting stage name for a fighter. While the reason why the materials were so limited wasn't becouse of high demand but simple couse the works weren't oficially published.

"How could I not realise it earlier? I work in archives for Primus sake!"

Coming back to the present moment.

-NO, I'm not taking you to that gala!- Ratchet answered him once again while trying to read some important medical research.

-But Ratchet, You need to! This is a chance one in a million! - Orion tried to stand his ground while before mentioned research flew stright at his face.

-NO, I said it already! First Wheeljack and now you. I never espected any decency from that maniac, but from you Orion?! What in Primus name made you want to get involved with such a place. Those parties are a complete debouchery! In fact the only reason why I'm attending such a ridiculous event is becouse it was a demand from work. You shouldn't want to participate in such a thing.-Young doctor didn't at all hide his disgust when he was speaking about the gala.

-Ratchet, I'm telling you this is not about that, I do not care about the event i just.. want to see the person that wrote all those amazing poems and articles. You read them too right? These are works of a genius!!

- And how exactly are you even suppose to recognize them? You don't know how they look like. And most importantantly they're a gladiator!! There's little to no chance for them to even be there and if they will I don't think they be allowed to just talk politics with some random guest!- larger mech exclaimed.

Ratchet looked exhousted. He hasn't slept in a while thanks to one lovely bomber, the gala somehow was supose to waight 1/3 of his final grade and his conjunx was out on some unspecified expediction for Primus knows how long.

- You know what? Let it be, I allow you to go with me, on one condition! For the next 3 chords you leave me alone. No questions about reproduction of insectocons. No covering for your crazy ideas. And absolutely no mentions about this evening to anyone! Got it?!

-Thank you Ratchet!! I promise I won't bother you anymore. You're trully amazing.- Orion was ready to hug his friend if it wasn't for his clear discomfort.

-Why do I feel like this conditon won't keep for long- Ratched mumbled feeling defeated while the archivist celebrated his small victory.

-See you at 8. Do NOT be late! My job depends on it.

...

The stadium was full, there wasn't a single sit that wasn't taken by some fancy mech.

It wasn't completely unusual however Megatron had to admit that it never stoped impressing him in all those years he spend fighting. The idea that so many bots gathered to watch him felt sureal, kinda wished they gathered to hear his speches rather that watch him rip someone spark out but well you can't be picky in those type of situations.

"Dear Femms and Mechs we gathered here today to watch an exhilarating battle between two of Cybertron greatest Champions , Megatronus of Kaon and Victory of Kalis. Who of those two will earn the glory and fame and who will end up in pieces? Only time can tell! Remember it's the last chance to make your bets.~"

The crowd was going wild. Megatron in a meatime looked at the stadium trying to pinpoint any important faces to worry about in the near future.

One that for sure stud out was a red and black mech sitting in it's own loge(/lodge) . They had a small frame, cunning eyes that looked down on him in every possible meaning of the word and probably the most punchable face he has ever seen. They looked pathetic on their own but the amount of guards made them unable to ignore. Luckily this type of mechs rarely were a problem in terms of "sponsoring", always wanting to boost their ego by making sure they the strongest in the room they would always leave him alone, maybe talk some scrap about the greatness of slavery but that was it. That said just in case his flying friend, and to that regard anyone else in the audience might get any wrong ideas Megatron decided to give them his most gruesome and repulsive act. After all this is what they came to Keon for.

Finally after few kliks he was able to face his oponent plate to plate on the big arena of the pits.

As expected based on Megatron research his oponent wasn't anything impressive. His body was covered in all kinds of luxurious gadgets and accesories. Clearly a higher cast. Fighting for fame not survival, winning only becouse of better equipment not skills. That type of mech was what Megatron hated the most.

The moment the match started he made sure to immobilize one of his oponent servos by ripping it off with extreme precision. This type of attack was only possible when the opponent had his guard down does gladiator know he won't be able to redo it no matter how much he tried.

Obliviously the act made the shinier mech furious, rampaging stright at Megatron, almost crushing him in the process if it wasn't for his fast reflexes. Before he had a chance to prepere himself for a next move he was shot with a cannon between his servos.

It was good to know his opponent had at least a bit of combat knowledge, knowing where to shot to entertain the crowd.

Megatron quickly moved from his position avoiding another blow and louding his own cannon. With few moves he was once again helm to helm with the other gladiator, throwing a punch right into his face. ...

_____________________

The fight took quite some time. Mainly to satisfy the audience but also couse Megatron really wanted to ensure nobody in the crowd gets any stupid ideas. He made sure to make himself as unapealing as he can, getting his whole body dirty with energon and diffrent oils spilling out of the other mech while also showing of his big frame to remaind people he was a miner not some classy thing.

The rest of ch 1 doesn't exist

Ch. 2 aka Megasound crumbs

Their lodging was small a and cluttered, diffrent spare parts, garbage finds and data pads scaterred all around leaving little to no space to move. From actually functioning furniture there was a big berth, a boxing bag and a barely working fridge. It was really a lucky find.

-Yo Big M is back! We seen you on the bilboard! It was so cool!!-Rumble and Frienzy as always were runing around and cousing mayhem, destroying anything that they touch.

One of them tried to climb on the gladiator while the other were shaking Ravage awake so she can share their excitment.

-Calm down you two! I got you something- he handed them two cubes of energon.

-Just make sure to absorb all that energy somewhere alse, otherwise this room might not survive.- Two bots stopped listening to him the moment they seen the food but luckily they still know what to do, they greedily took the cubes and sprinted outside with the speed that would made profesional racers jealous.

Without twins the room felt much more spacious, walking trought it he also gave a cube each to Ravage and Laserbeak, petting them lightly as he passed them by.

In the berth laid the owner of the room himself, as always calm looking Soundwave. His wounds seemed to repair pretty well trought he clearly still couldn't move an arm. His smaller frame was curled while the blue mech hold one of the datapads.

He was mad. Megatron know the moment he came into the room. Soundwave might not be expressive but they know each other for so long that it didn't matter. When he was mad he would speak only when it's expected of him and his power field would radiate disatisfaction.

-Listen, I understand you're mad. Fair enough, I would be to if I got beaten like that, I know you wanted to go together this time but this is to much of a risk! - Soundwave was a trully special mech. Where Megatron was nothing more than a miner capable of withstanding bad sytuations, Soundwave was a "Carrier", a bot designed specifically to make and take care of sparklings.

Those type of mechs knew nothing about fighting, they shouldn't have to. Yet here they were. Some stupid high rank wanted a Carrier for his unrealistic sparklings expectations, didn't like the results those threw all of them out. Megatron wasn't really sure how Soundwave was able to survive before coming to Kaon, he don't think he wants to. That said the moment he showed up on the arena was something revolutionary.

Soundwave wasn't just a good fighter, he was a strategic genius! When they first meet the gladiator was starstruck. The carrier was the proof that Megatron needed, that the mechs can be more than what they were made for.

They get along well, trought it took some time to earn Soundwave trust. Only after that Megatron could meet the cassetes, one by one and he enjoyed spending time with all of them. It was something surreal. In a place such brutal and cold as Pits, to have a genuine good relations with other mechs.

The ability to actually have deep political conversation without the other mech looking at you with contempt or pity. Soundwave never judged him, but always had an intresting opinion that let him to improve his thesis. He would always inform him on any mistakes and inaccuracies he made and prized him for any small success. The Carrier especially loved his poetry, something Megatron never expected to be able to share. The blue mech would listen to him for hours and look at him as if the words he spoke were some kind of gospel and not some simple poems.

The only problem Soundwave had was that he was a little bit to.. carefull. He would never let Megatron work on his own acount, always making sure he knows everything that's going on. It was never really suffocating in fact Megatron feel some comfort in knowing someone got his back but for some reason it always got worse when it came to Galas.

The carrier would flip out even at the mention of those events. Gladiator fully understood his disgust especially considering his upbringing however what he did't understand was the fact that the blue mech didn't aply his worries to himself. The only worry he showed in those moments was towards Megatron. Illogical considering that the gray mech was handling it just fine, with little amount of customers and a sturdy build compared to the always cornered Carrier. ..

-We were supose to go together.- The monotone voice of his friend somehow still expressed more emotion than the loudest scream. - Megatron was supose to stay out of trouble. Megatron shouldn't have to dirty himself like that. - the gray mech could see his reflection in the visors of the other.

-I'm sorry.-gladiator wondered for a moment. -I know how stupid it was. You're the only person in here capable enought to stand next to me

That's all i got for now. If it doesnt make sense that's couse none of the scenes are in proper order. Please give opinions it means a lot to me.

[themurdochmemesteries]

Some surprise Malcoshi for @deadheaddaisy It's angsty, because that's what I do, but I hope you like it.

Also on ao3.

She finds him in the armoury, alone, picking apart a phase pistol. Exactly where she suspected he’d be. He has his back to her and doesn’t seem to hear her come in. Hoshi frowns. It’s not often one can catch the ever-perceptive Lieutenant Reed off guard, so she ensures her footsteps are loud as she walks closer. When he still doesn’t lift his head, she clears her throat.

He whirls around so suddenly he almost teeters off balance. Seeing her, he relaxes ever so subtly. “Hoshi,” he breathes.

“Hey, Malcolm.” For all her extensive vocabulary, Hoshi is, for once, at a loss for words. A dozen or so different things she could say crowd at the tip of her tongue—questions, apologies—but none of them feel right. So instead her eyes flick to the phase pistol lying in pieces on the desk. “What are you working on?”

Malcolm glances back, running his fingers through his hair. “Erm, replacing a power pack.”

“I see.”

He turns back around to face her. “Was there something you needed?”

“I just came to see if you were alright,” Hoshi says, and even as the words leave her lips, she notices Malcolm stiffen almost imperceptibly.

“I’m fine,” he says immediately.

Hoshi’s expression softens. “What you went through-”

“Was nothing.” And there’s another uncharacteristic moment, for Malcolm hardly ever interrupts anyone. “I’m fine,” he says again.

“Sure. But… it’s okay to not be, you know.”

“I know.”

They stare at each other for a few seconds.

Hoshi takes a deep breath. “Captain Archer told me. About your fear.”

And Malcolm stiffens again, his spine ramrod straight, jaw set, shoulders tense. “Is that so,” he bites out.

“The aliens… What they did was inexcusable. Regardless of whether or not ‘tests of strength’ are their tradition.”

“It was the only way to get them to talk to us.”

Hoshi frowns. “But we didn’t have to.”

“We needed the dilithium.” Malcolm turns back to the worktable, but Hoshi is nothing if not persistent—and stubborn.

“Someone else could have gone. But you volunteered. Why?”

Malcolm doesn’t answer.

Hoshi takes a step closer. “Why, Malcolm?”

Still not a word.

Hoshi grits her teeth, anger flooding through her—but not directed at the man she’s held secret affections for for the past two years. Towards the aliens who returned him to sickbay two days ago, sopping wet and borderline catatonic. “They locked you in a box and left you to drown!” she exclaims.

“I know that!” Malcolm hisses.

Hoshi grabs his shoulders and spins him around. “So why did you do it?”

He shuts his eyes.

She shakes him. “Why, Malcolm?”

He purses his lips, once again not responding.

“Do you know how difficult it was seeing you like that?” Hoshi whispers hoarsely.

He glances away. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” she says. “Tell me why.”

He’s silent for a moment, and Hoshi worries he’s not going to answer again, but then he opens his mouth.

“They told us, a chain is only as strong as its weakest link,” he says in a quiet voice. “If I couldn’t face my fears…” He swallows thickly, tears crowding at his eyes.

“You’re not weak,” Hoshi assures him. “It’s their system that’s bullshit.”

He shakes his head, hands coming up to rest on her own, which still grip his shoulders loosely. He hangs his head. “I cried for help,” he whispers. “When the water got too high. I cried out for someone to save me. I couldn’t handle it.”

“I’d do the same, if I was suddenly stuck in a shrinking box,” Hoshi points out.

“You’re not the security officer.”

“But we are both human.” She reaches up, cupping his face, and to her surprise he leans into it and closes his eyes. “We can’t help that.”

He draws in a shuddering breath. “I was scared…”

“I know,” she says.

And then suddenly he’s leaning forward, burying his face in the crook of her neck and soon Hoshi feels hot tears against her skin, dampening her uniform, and before she knows it her arms are wrapped around him. “It’s alright,” she murmurs, “no one can hurt you anymore,” and she holds him as he slumps in her arms and breaks down.

[kalinara]

It's really not such a core part of the characters, though.

I mean you're always going to have comic book fans who distill characters to their worst moments and mischaracterize story beats because they don't feel like examining it further.

But I think that's basically true for any character in comics. (Especially female characters.)

But a key thing to keep in mind is that, at no point in the comics, does Jean ever actually cheat on Scott. There is one point where she almost does, in the New X-Men run of the 00s, when their relationship is under a great deal of stress. Logan turns her down.

(Sadly most adaptations play up the Scott/Jean/Logan triangle more than it's really deserved, I think. It exists, but it's not nearly as significant in the comics themselves. It's probably strongest in terms of reciprocation in the 90s, but that's also when Scott and Jean are at their strongest, and Logan eventually becomes pretty invested in their relationship.)

Scott's a bit more complicated. Folks will often talk about the Madelyne Pryor situation and that is not easy to distill. It's definitely not his finest hour, though no cheating actually happens. (They don't get together until after Madelyne fakes her death...it's complicated.)

The Emma Frost thing is something I get a bit heated up about, because it's a blatant situation where a therapist (or someone acting as a therapist) takes advantage of a patient during the course of what is supposed to be therapy. In New York, that's actually prosecutable, because a patient is not considered able to consent under those circumstances.

Regardless, they've resolved the matter and granted, we had a considerable amount of time where she was dead, then a shorter amount of time when he was dead, and then they were split off into different dimensions for maybe a year or so real time (so like a month in comics time. :-D) - but once they were both alive again and knew the other was alive again, they pretty much immediately cleaved back together.

Since then (that was 2019), they've been pretty solid. On Krakoa, it was made explicit that they're engaging in some kind of polyamory. Jean does sleep with Logan at the time, but it's implicitly with Scott's consent as he built all three of them interconnecting rooms in "the Summer House" on the moon. (There are very heavy implications that it's actually a three way situation, as none of those interconnecting rooms have doors.) It's not clear if Emma actually sleeps with any of them, but she and Scott still have an element of emotional closeness at any rate. (She also has a very fun dynamic with Jean actually, too.)

It's not clear if they're still doing the polyamory thing. Scott's basically playing military wife to Jean being a literal god out in space. But they're still together and seem pretty happy.

i’ve been reading the xmen comics (old stuff like age of apocalypse) and i’m upset bc jean and scott are genuinely so cute together and so good for each other?? like i never feel this way about straight ships,, but then i get so mad at marvel bc ik that all they’re known for now is cheating on each other bc of logan or emma frost and IT MAKES ME SO MAD

like those kids loved each other so much they wouldn’t have done this 😭

(ofc i still ship scogan i just pretend they’re all in a poly relationship, but why did they make adultery such a core part of these characters smhh)

[merge-conflict]

For a man supposedly having second thoughts, Takemura didn’t budge an inch, lips still on her neck and his thigh in between her legs. “Because you are…unwell. You should be resting.”

“I don’t want to rest. If I’m going to die I want to go out on a good note.”

“You are not going to die.”

“So say I live,” V said. Her voice was bitter but she was still curling around him like she thought he might actually pull away. “Then we’ll have plenty of time to catch up, will we?”

She never missed her mark when she was being nasty, but Takemura was clearly used to taking it on the chin. After a short, tense silence all he had to say was, “And Silverhand?”

Johnny would have preferred not being mentioned at all. He wasn’t going to ruin V’s chance at getting some decent head, especially considering her mood, but she had such shitty taste in men. And women, come to think of it. Cars. Clothing. Just a complete fucking gonk, from top to bottom. Sometimes made him wonder why he bothered.

<Don't say I never did nothing for you.>

“Forget about Johnny,” she said. “Is he the only one who gets to enjoy himself?”

“Mm.” Takemura sighed, making her shiver. “I think not.”

It was a bit of deja vu, to feel the old dog kissing her neck, the rasp of his beard over skin still sensitive from Kerry’s attention the night before. V had her eyes closed, so it was easy, even, to imagine it was Kerry back at it. Like it was Kerry’s hand skimming down over his bony rib cage and soft stomach, reaching the sickly hollow of his hip and dipping under the towel.

The illusion was shattered, of course, when V opened her eyes again to watch Takemura unwrap her like she was some expensive gift. But by then Johnny was already swimming too deep in her hormones, rapt with attention as Takemura began following the same trail his fingers had made with his mouth. Unlike Kerry he wasn’t the least bit surprised or bothered by her untamed bush, but then again he clearly already knew his way around.

V made a sound deep in her throat when he kissed her clit, eyes sliding closed again even as she bucked her hips. Johnny wondered if a brain dance could really replicate this feeling– he was always entwined with V in her head, but she was usually so damn miserable. And everything had always had that awful lag, like stuttering video over a bad connection. But now she was lit up like a Christmas tree, and for the first time they were burning in perfect sync, a bomb primed and clock ticking down.

[navree]

"rhaenys could have ended the war by dracarysing all the greens right there" yes because a distant relation to the throne deciding to barbecue an anointed and publicly positively hailed king and his entire family who is well loved within the city and in multiple other parts of the country for the sake of the succession of a far-away princess no one was ever on board with who hasn't been seen by the populace in literal years, her psycho husband, her three obvious bastards, and two toddlers from the psycho husband would go over super well with westeros and especially in king's landing where scores of the still-cheering population were killed for no reason by that same dragon who would do the barbecuing, because when targaryens act unilaterally without thinking of how the people would react there's never any problem, which is why the storming of the dragonpit and robert's rebellion were actually just collective delusions dreamed up by readers who hate rhaenyra and not key parts of the story and house targaryen's history that directly contributed to their demise and are intrinsic to the plot

truly team black stans are made up of only the most genius and media literate amongst us

[kaleidochimera]

It's deeply important to me that Loop kind of sucks