#they just mean sooo fucking much to me like *gestures vaguely*

[andi-o-geyser]

HEY! HEY YOU! YOU UPDATED YOUR PAGE TWENTY-SIX MINUTES AGO! TUMBLR TOLD ME SO! GIVE ME YOUR PERCAHLIA BRAINROT!

Haha, gladly! Buckle in, because the brainrot has been going for weeks now and will not stop. Currently, I’m stuck on their journey to the Water Ashari, where Vex and Percy have the most heartfelt conversation about what they heard during their respective resurrection rituals. Percy basically says that in space of limbo he was stuck in while Orthax was feasting on his soul he could only hear pure noise and feel pain and he’s tried so hard to not put the experience into words but now he is putting it into words, for Vex, because she deserves the full truth of the offerings that called him back during his ritual. He tells her that he had: “great motivation to live a long life”, which just makes me want to go fucking feral because on a meta level Vex rolled true love’s natural 20 and Tal specifically said that he told Matt to text him because if they didn’t say what Percy wanted to hear, he just fully wouldn’t come back, good resurrection rolls be damned, but despite Pike’s plea for the gods to save him (which was something he explicitly wouldn’t have wanted), Vex told him she loved him and she needed him back, and Percy was called back anyways for her. 

He was ready to let everything go: his sister, his home, his found family and all the friends he’d made, because he was done and he was tired and he felt like he’d completed his journey and earned his tragic end, and he even preemptively wrote what essentially functioned as a suicide note for the occasion. But he didn’t die, he came back anyways, and, almost 20 full episodes after the resurrection ritual and exactly 15 episodes after he and Vex first kissed in the snow, he admits to her in this quiet moment on the ship that he heard her. And it was the only thing he heard. 

This contrasts directly with the ritual itself, where after being brought back he thanked Keyleth, saying: “I saw what you did, it was the only thing I saw”, referring to how Kiki severed him from Orthax, but he also explicitly states that he couldn’t hear her, he just saw her hand reach out. And when she hears it you can just see Laura play it brilliantly, because Vex looks so dejected as he says it in that scene post resurrection. She’s so full of this sudden grief at something she’s barely had but already lost, which was her confession of love to him because he just said he only saw Keyleth, and that means he doesn’t remember Vex’s plea for his life. But he did remember, and it was the only thing he remembered and the only thing that mattered. But he didn’t tell her not because of any time he needed to consider if he felt the same way, because he was already head over heels just like she was; he didn’t say anything because she just bore her heart in front of all their friends, all their family, and he didn’t want to put her on the spot like that. 

“I never would have hoped... you’re far too wonderful for an idiot. I treasure every minute”. Percy knows and Vex knows that he was very well almost gone for good, and Vex saved his life by calling out to him the way she did. He never would have hoped she felt the same way, he never would have hoped the heart she was referring to when confronting Saundor was his, but he treasures every minute they have together because they both know what they could have lost, and after the Thordak, Raishan, and second Raishan fight, this is even more potent because they both either went to death saves or outright died and had to be revivified. And she treasures every moment right back. They’re so deeply in love, and they have such an immense respect for each other that as soon as Vex asks at the top of the scene what he heard during his resurrection Percy instantly catches on that she’s both probably curious about Scanlan’s ritual, but also still feeling insecure about him not mentioning her contribution, and the entire subsequent scene is basically him both working through the remnants of trauma from the experience but also laying it out in an considerate way for her, and apologizing for any pain he caused. 

And then they get drunk and imply they’re going to have sex in a closing line. It’s peak Perc’ahlia and it makes me go insane 

[radioisnotdead]

"Sooo, are we friends now?"

Vox blinked. The sudden question caught him off guard. Lucifer had just walked into the room and fell back onto the couch, comfortably leaning back beside him, so a question like that was entirely out of the blue.

"..Come again?" He grinned nervously.

"Well... y'know." Lucifer made a few vague gestures.

"I- No, I really don't."

Lucifer's eyebrows furrowed and he looked straight ahead of him. He crossed a leg and folded his arms while he looked for the words. Vox simply waited, placing his phone down.

After a little bit of silence, Lucifer spoke quietly.

"Would it be stupid to say that because we both hate Alastor it would automatically make us friends-?"

Vox snorted at his expense. "A little, yeah. But I get where you're coming from, I guess. The enemy of your enemy is your friend, as they say."

Lucifer's eyes lit up, and he smiled.

"Glad we're on the same page!"

Vox gave him a small nod and went back to his phone.

A few minutes of quiet, the only sounds being Lucifer's soft breathing and Vox tapping on his phone.

"..Hey, so-"

Vox looked up, slightly exasperated but amused.

"Alastor isn't the only reason we're friends, right?"

Vox tilted his head, raising an eyebrow.

"I mean," The king continued, a little anxious. "It just seems a bit... Y'know, insincere, for our whole relationship to be centered around him of all people."

"Hmm.. I guess you're right."

They sat for a moment, thinking.

"We could take a page outta Charlie's book?" He suggested, clicking his phone off.

"Huh?"

"Remember when she tried to make Vaggie and Alastor get along?"

Lucifer perked up. "When they had to compliment each other?" He grinned. "That was so fucking funny. You want us to do that?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"Alright! Me first. Mmmm..."

Vox waited, somewhat excited. It was probably unreasonable, but y'know. Free compliments. As he watched Lucifer think, he couldn't help smiling gently. The whole situation was pretty odd, but fun nonetheless.

"Well, you're funny sometimes. Your little antennae are cute, though I guess that doesn't really count. Hm.. your voice is nice to listen to. Kind of a shame you don't have a podcast or anything, I'd listen to it. Anyway, you seem like you'd give good hugs."

"Is that really a compliment?" Vox grinned, feeling his screen glowing just a little bit brighter.

"Totally! Hugs are the best." Lucifer folded his arms confidently. "Don't believe me, just try it."

"Mmm... Nah. Not one for stuff like that, all soft, y'know?"

Lucifer frowned. "Seriously? When was the last time you were hugged?"

Vox glanced at him, staying quiet. When was the last time-? Velvette wasn't very touchy either. Valentino definitely was, but he was less gentle and comforting than.. well, overtly sexual.

"...Unimportant."

"Is not."

Vox sighed, feigning annoyance.

"Fine." He sat up and opened his arms.

Lucifer blinked.

"..Hug me, dumbass."

"Oh! Okay!" He looked absolutely thrilled.

Pulling Vox up from the couch after jumping up himself, he tugged the TV head into a hug. Lucifer's arms wrapped tightly around Vox's waist as he looked up at him excitedly.

Admittedly, Lucifer was right. Vox.. really didn't mind this. His hands automatically came to rest between Lucifer's shoulder blades and he smiled, looking away.

"Okay, fine, you have a point, I suppose."

Lucifer pulled away, instead holding Vox's hands and lightly bouncing on his heels.

"Knew it!"

Vox shook his head, unable to contain his grin, and pulled them both back onto the couch, Lucifer sat beside him.

"'Kay, so I gotta compliment you now."

"Hey, don't say it like that! No one's forcing you, y'know."

"Yeah, yeah.." He trailed off, examining the King next to him. "Well. You give good hugs, I can tell you that much. Your eyes are pretty. And shit, I might regret this, but.. your cheeks are really cute. Um- and your hair looks really soft." Vox looked away, a shaky smile across his face. "We didn't agree on a set number of compliments, haha..."

Lucifer stared at him for a moment, his legs swinging lightly over the edge of the couch. "You can pet it if you want."

Vox immediately turned to him again. "Huh?"

"My hair. You said it looked soft, why not find out?"

"Uh.. okay." He laughed, somewhat nervous.

Vox reached a hand out and tentatively threaded his claws through Lucifer's blond hair. It was exactly how he thought it would feel, light and fluffy. Definitely a pleasant experience. Valentino's moth fluff was soft, but too thick to properly feel with his claws. Comparing a moth's neck to not really human hair wasn't the smartest, though.

Vox smiled as he spent a few more seconds gently stroking Lucifer's hair. It was hard to fully appreciate how unusual of a moment this was. After all, Lucifer was the literal King of Hell, Child of God, and for Vox to be able to just sit here with him, petting his hair?

His.. mild confusion must've shown on his screen, because as he retracted his hand, Lucifer looked as if he was trying incredibly hard not to burst out laughing.

"..What?"

"You've.. You've got a few.. um, question marks? On- on your screen?" He bit his lip, unsuccessfully attempting to restrain a grin.

Vox's eyes widened and he immediately looked away, feeling the screen flicker to a childishly flashy exclamation mark.

The king snickered for a good few seconds, fidgeting with the cane in his hands as he did so.

"Yeah." Vox said after a comfortable silence, turning back to Lucifer with a smile.

The latter gave him a confused look.

"You asked if we were friends, earlier. I guess we are."

Lucifer grinned back.

☆彡★彡

lmk if you guys want more stuff like this cuz it was so fun to write hehe

as for whether they're gonna stay platonic,, idk bro??

anyway they're cute and I love em <3

[cerame]

Sooo I discovered your blog and it turns out, you're the super talented author of multiple amazing fics I've read? My favorite of yours is probably After because it's ahhhh so perfect! The Four angst is unexpected but very welcome, and I love the Palace of the Four Sword elements. But the ending, when they're all together again, it's just so waaaaaaa. I think I was gnawing on my windowsill to keep myself from shrieking and waking my family lol

Ahhhhh thank you!! :DD

After (or for those of you who better remember the secondary name, “Fuck it, refounds your family”) is definitely one of my favorites. My attempts to once again fix the timeline were a great excuse to throw in a bunch of…. (gesturing vaguely) everything else. The palace of the four sword and the consequences of its existence, as unexplained as it is, is a fascinating subject to consider, and, well, the idea of a permanent goodbye sucked too much, so After was the perfect excuse to write in a post-canon reunion.

I'm really happy to see that so many people enjoy my brain chaos, and I get all flustered and giggly whenever someone happens to recognize me online because they liked my stuff so much. It means the world to me.

Side-note: For anyone wondering, I’m still alive and on the LU discord. I’ve just been silent because I’ve been very busy with life, and my LU muse has suffered a slow and painful death… again. Might be back in another year. I’ll have to wait and see.

[fridayyy-13th]

sooo i hear you finished malevolent

indeed i did!! holy shit!!! it was amazing! and now i can finally unblock the “Malevolent spoilers” tag!

various thoughts (i have many but here’s a handful):

listening to the first episode, after John asked Arthur to look in the mirror and said he had the demeanor of someone not to be fucked with, i thought “…i’m sorry but no. this man is a sad wet cat. get him a warm blanket”

speaking of part 1, i was listening to it in the backseat of a car with headphones in so that was a game of turning up the volume to hear dialogue over the road sounds and turning it down to not demolish my eardrums when John shouted

by the time i was wrapping up part 4, i started to wonder if “John Doe” was a name the fandom made up for him, but when he explained to Arthur that he really liked the name and wanted to be called that…my heart absolutely melted. can you tell John’s my favorite? he’s my favorite :)

the one bit where Arthur is asked questions directly tied to everything that had happened since being bound with John? fucking impeccable. i would’ve said “ohh shit” aloud if i weren’t in public at the time

at some point i saw a post about someone taking an empty wrapping paper tube and mimicking John’s “Arthur!”

i tried it

it very much worked

i was promptly ecstatic due to this revalation. the tube wasn’t empty but it still worked great lol

speaking of John’s “Arthur!,” the way his tone shifted from part 1 vs part 28 still makes me emotional. holy shit

Kayne! what a guy. motherfucker. i had glimpsed some fanart of him eating popcorn or something before reaching part 28 so when i heard crunching in the background of That Part i was just like “ah. that’s why. Goddammit.” he’s a lot of fun and i like him a lot

ough hearing Yellow alongside Larson. Fear. excitement for what that means for the story, but also Fear.

during my binge i was working on a lego set i got for Christmas, of the house from Home Alone, and i legitimately nearly cried while hunched over that lego set when Arthur played Faroe’s Song right before John came back

and speaking of John coming back! Kayne said he had some sort of ulterior motive! what the heck! i haven’t seen much in the way of theories yet but John’s slip-up about being gone for a long time, i definitely don’t think he’s telling the truth. that said, i don’t think he wants to hurt Arthur in any way. especially considering he was trying his damndest to save him during that entire conversation

the piano strings guy. holy shit. what was he called? the butcher? absolutely terrifying, and now he’s coming after John and Arthur. fun!

the dynamic between Arthur and John is incredible. not romantic not platonic but a secret third thing (*vague gesture in their direction that does not explain what the third thing is*). they’re just Them. not to mention i nearly cried over the fact that before John named himself, when he and Arthur still didn’t like each other, Arthur still took to calling him “friend.” i’m shaking them like a pair of glowsticks.

absolutely cannot wait for part 29. i’m so excited to see where this story goes.

[starryemeralds]

HII rwby anon again its been a while sorry dhd ive been on a mission in another world but thats not important right now~

sooo

IVE WATCHED TILL EPISODE 15 !!

IM REALLY ENJOYING IT A LOT, especially with a lot of focus being on vomit boy, i kind of didnt expect that. i LOVE how nora was just. "should i break his legs :D" IN SUCH A FUN AND BUBBLY GIRL VOICE DHDBDBD that was hilarious

AND WHEN PYRRHA TOOK VOMIT BOY ONTO THE ROOF AND HE JUST GOES, "i know im depressed but.. im not THAT depressed" i was DYING of laughter HELPPP JSJSJS

UGH i CANNOT get enough of ruby. shes just like. nope :3 nope : ) nope :] nope :>

UGH its so cute just that little squeakiness in her voice, if that makes sense fhdhd

i am also uh. A LITTLE WORRIED ABOUT WHAT SHE SAID TO VOMIT BOY

"youre not allowed to be a failure.. because youre a leader !"

i very spesifically remember, before getting into the show, seeing gifs and vids you rebloged of ruby having. not the best of times 😭 because she was their leader and didnt feel perfect / as good as she wanted herself to be, if i remember correctly ? so

yeah 😭😭😭

i ship blake and random faunus boy with a monkey tail /hj

penny seems.. weird,, not in a bad way she is just. a weirdo /pos

LMFAO THE HIGH FIVE BETWEEN WEISS AND RUBY, um *its a combat skirt*

ok so. time to bombard you with questions ( sorry )

who are the faunus how many episodes does the first season have who are the white fang and why does weiss call them degenerates, rapscallions, thieves, murderers and scums

IS IS IS. IS BLAKE A FAUNUS OF THE WHITE FANG !?!

thank you 💅

HELLO RWBY ANON!! I HOPE YOUR MISSION IN ANOTHER WORLD IS GOING WELL LMAO

i love how you consistently refer to jaune as vomit boy, it makes me laugh everytime. and nora, my chaotic beloved, do break that guys legs <3

S T O P, THAT ROOFTOP LINE HAD ME FUCKING CACKLING. IN MY RECENT REWATCH IF THE SHOW, I WAS SHOWING IT TO MY FRIENDS AND THEY THOUGHT IT WAS FUNNY TOO

and yes!! ruby’s va is so good, and while she has the squeakiness, you’ll come to see that there’s a lot of emotional range in it 👀

AND YEAH,, RUBY’S JOURNEY AS A LEADER IS A LONG AND COMPLICATED ROAD, BUT MY GOD, THERE IS NOTHING I LOVE MORE THAN STORYLINES LIKE *gestures to v9* THAT (being vague because i don’t wanna spoil you anymore than my blog already has haha)

SUN MY BELOVED!!!! I LOVE HIM SO MUCH; LOYAL TO THE END BUT LACKS ALL BRAIN CELLS. valid to ship them, but their friendship in particular means so much to me and you’ll come to see why a bit later down the road!

AND PENNY MY BELOVED <3333 all i’ll say is that there is something weird with her, and it alludes to the fairy tale she is based on, which i think gets revealed sometime in v2 iirc

AND NOW FOR YOUR QUESTIONS

who are the faunus:

so the faunus are essentially another race in remnant that have physically animalistic features (some might have ears, or tails, etc.)

how many episodes in the first season:

crunchyroll is telling me that the first season has 16 episodes, so you’re right at the finish line!!

who are the white fang:

the white fang has a complicated history, but they are essentially a group of faunus who are fighting for faunus rights and are now known to be an extremist group. (in my personal opinion, i think that rt definitely could’ve handled this plot line a bit better since it is a direct allegory to racism and a lot of black fans have voiced their critiques a lot better than i ever could. there are some threads and video essays by them if that’s something you’d wanna look more into!)

why does weiss call them degenerates, etc?

she’s racist prejudiced towards them based on her upbringing; but she does overcome this fairly quickly SO DONT WORRY.

is blake of the white fang?

she used to be! that mission she was on in the black trailer was actually her with them, but her separating herself from the train was her literally and metaphorically cutting ties with them. she no longer believes in their methods, so she became a huntress to join in the fight for equality in a different way.

I HOPE THAT HELPS CLEAR SOME THINGS UP!

[ackerlert]

The Restaurant

Jean x Reader (3 year time skip since end of Season 3, pretend Annie is not in a crystal LMAO)

NSFW WARNINGS: female pronouns reader, oral sex (m & f receiving), sex with jean’s horse cock, reader aroused by his blush LMFAO, slow build up

“Oi. Get back here brats,” Levi grunts, gesturing toward a door. “Time for dinner. I know the restaurant’s all you brats have been thinking of. Especially you, Sasha.”

“Yahoo!” Sasha squealed. “I wonder what Niccolo will make today…maybe even that pizza he was telling me about…” she mutters, smiling to herself and probably daydreaming about stretchy cheese and marinara sauce. 

Connie grinned, sharing a look with the other smirking cadets--no. Soldiers. All of the cadets had grown into soldiers now, ranging from 17 to early 20s, plus some new recruits who had joined, including you.

Everyone knew Sasha had a thing for Niccolo-- it was something you and all the other cadets teased her about almost every day. The atmosphere buzzed with a lighthearted feel as the group joked around. You had all just recently completed a successful mission clearing Ragako of some straggler titans left from 3 years ago, and it had gone extremely well: so well that the Corps were getting rewarded with a trip to Niccolo’s restaurant.

The Corps made their way to their destination, the train: a new machine designed by Hange and other engineers she had recruited, it would be their way to the restaurant. Everyone stared at it with slack jaws and wonder-filled eyes. It would be your first time on the locomotive.

The Corps rushed forward, all clambering to get on first and sit with their friends and significant others.

You, along with your group of Mikasa, Eren, Armin, Annie, Connie, Sasha, and Jean were the last to file into the last cart.

Pair by pair, your group began filing in. 

You and Jean Kirschtein were last in line to get on the train, and the uncomfortableness you felt surely was justified. After all, the others basically all knew who they would sit near and talk to--Sasha/Connie, Mikasa/Eren, Armin/Annie-- except you two. You couldn’t help but sneak a look at Jean, standing next to you in the line, tallest in your group. His dark eyes looked a bit tired but still had a hard glint of intensity -- probably just excitement to visit the restaurant. You also noted his broad shoulders and a bit of a scruff on his sharp jawline -- characteristics that had not been there before a few years ago, when you had first caught a glimpse when you joined the Corps.

He’d always been attractive. Whenever he smiled at you when you said something to your friend group, whenever he would grasp his hair when he seemed frustrated. And you couldn’t forget his blush and the way his dark eyes glanced away in embarrassment that day you complimented his hair. Although he had seemed intimidating, you had felt a spark of arousal at his blush.

“Y/n. Y/N.” Mikasa frowned. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. C’mon, get on the train!” Connie pouted.

Your eyes snapped up in surprisement. You hadn’t noticed how your mind had drifted into that memory of Jean’s blush, and how everyone, including Jean, was already in the train cart.

“Sorry! I’m coming!” You blushed and clambered on the train.

There was a stretch of awkward silence for a few seconds as you realized the problem.

“Er...why isn’t there room for me?” You asked, frowning a bit.

“The only place you could sit is one of our laps, you could sit on my lap!” Sasha offered, smiling at you, a crumb on her lip. 

“Sasha, don’t forget you have all that food stuffed in your pockets. Y/n might smush it and you would cry later,” Connie said, rolling his eyes before looking up at you apologetically. “Sorry Y/n, but I honestly don’t know where you could sit.”

Silence filled the train car for another second, before you heard Jean’s husky voice. “There’s a small bit of room next to me.”

You gratefully accepted that as your best seat, and tried to squeeze in. One of your legs was against Jean’s and the other one was almost hanging out, but you tried to brush it aside.

As the train lurched forward, you heard Jean’s voice again, this time closer to your ear and a bit softer. “You can move in closer, you might fall off like that.”

“Thanks, Jean.” you reply, inching closer. You became aware of his leg’s warmth against yours. 

“Damn those thighs are strong...“ you thought to yourself.

You sat like this for a while, in discomfort, listening vaguely to Armin tell Annie about a book he had read.

All of a sudden, your shoulder was jerked to the side and your legs were thrown to the side.

The train had just bumped over a bridge, and you sighed in annoyance until you realized the position you were in: Jean’s steely thighs under your own, his warm chest on your back, and the tickle of his hair on the top of your left ear.

You immediately flushed red, and were about to scramble off his lap until his right hand gently patted your shoulder. You froze.

“Wait, uh. Y/n, I-I think you should wait a while. The road above is a bit bumpy, and the train might throw you off,” he muttered, his face turning that beautiful pink color again as he retracted his hand and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Okay. Thank you so much, Jean,” you said quietly, still aware that you were on his lap. You wondered if he could feel your legs tense up, or smell your hair that you had just washed this morning.

You could feel every breath he took against your back, and every breath you took in smelled like him.

And sure enough, the road ahead was bumpy.

You felt your arousal every time the cart hit a road bump and your sensitive parts rubbed against Jean’s. You hoped he wouldn’t notice, but he appeared to be even more awkwardly tensed up than you about it. His breathing had become a bit erratic in your ear and something under your ass was hardening.

When the train ran over a giant rock, you basically bounced up and back down on Jean’s lap.

When this happened, you couldn’t help but let out a small moan before horror filling your face.

Oh fuck.

Jean stiffened behind you, and your cheeks burned with embarrassment. Neither of you said anything else until you got to the restaurant.

You slowly left his lap, not daring to look back behind you, and entered the restaurant to sit with Sasha and try to erase the sensations of sitting on Jean’s lap.

---

---

---

“I’ll have the steak, medium-rare, please,” you heard Jean’s smooth voice say to Niccolo taking the orders.

He was sitting across from you, and neither of you had mentioned what happened on the train, but it was still fresh on your mind. You couldn’t help but wonder if the slight blush that had been present on his face all meal was from that incident.

As the food came, and you dug in, you couldn’t help but sneak another glance at Jean.

But he was already looking at you with an unfathomable look in his eyes as he took a bite out of his steak.

You quickly looked away.

---

---

---

After the dinner, the Corps were getting lodging in the town of the restaurant.

You had always roomed with Hitch, but today she seemed to have other plans in mind.

“Y/nnnnnn, I am so sorry.. But could we perhaps do a switch?” she asked, lips breaking into a devious smile.

You frowned at the short-haired girl suspiciously.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“Well...I really want to spend the night with Annie and Armin after that dinner, I want to see something. So maybe Armin’s roommate could stay here for the night instead?” she begged.

You frowned. You really didn’t want this, but you knew that Hitch would be really sad if she couldn’t see her friends, so you gave in.

“Fine. But PLEASE make sure his roommate doesn’t stink,” you joked.

“Thank you sooo much!” Hitch grinned, squealing.

---

---

---

The door lock clicked open as whoever outside twisted the key Hitch had given him, and stepped inside.

“Jean?!”

You heard the click of his shoes as the man stepped in, eyes falling on you. The room seemed a lot smaller all of a sudden. Although you normally felt pretty tall, you felt small next to Jean.

“Hey, Y/n..” he started. “Looks like i’ll be staying here tonight. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, of course. Your bed is the one on the left ” You forced a sweet smile on your face. In your mind, however, you were shocked that Jean was the one staying with you. Memories of his strong, warm chest against your back on the train, his dark eyes on you in the restaurant, and his hard bulge ran throughout your mind again, the way they had plagued your thoughts ever since you had left the restaurant.

You heard a warm and slightly tired-sounding chuckle from Jean, and you snapped your head to his direction, eyes narrowing at him.

“What?” you asked.

“Nothing,” he smirked as he glanced up from unpacking his clothes in your direction. ”It was just kinda... cute how you were just staring into space just now, I guess. Wonder what you were thinking about”

You rolled your eyes, a blush spreading across your face. I wonder what he’d think if he knew I was thinking of him, you thought to yourself. Hell, he probably knows. 

Another thought passed your mind as you watched him unpacking, the muscles around his neck and arms moving through his thin collared shirt: With the way he was looking at me earlier at that restaurant... I bet I’m not the only one with thoughts of continuing what happened on that damned train...

You smirked and walked up to him casually as a plan moved in your head. He moved his head and looked at you in confusion. 

He then ducked his head down again, focusing back on unpacking his clothes. You could’ve sworn there was a hint of that blush you love on his cheeks again.

“So...say, Jean. You look awfully tired today,” you murmured as you went on your tiptoes and flicked some of his soft hair.

He turned back to you. It was clear now that he was blushing and glancing down at your chest, nipples visible through your thin training shirt.

You thought of how his complexion looked so nice in the small bits of red sunlight filtering through the window and the glow of the lamp on the small bedside table in the room. It was a shame that his shirt covered up the rest of him right now.

“Yeah...it’s been busy recently I guess.” he muttered a bit tightly, his blush growing deeper as he rubbed the stubble on his chin.

“We should get more time to relax,” you sighed and flopped down on the bed right next to the pile of clothes he was unpacking.

Jean looked at you sprawled on the blankets. You gave him another smile and patted the area beside yourself on the bed. He rolled his eyes at you but gave you a small smile back as he sat down beside you a bit stiffly.

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes as you pulled him to lay down properly beside you, your thighs touching.

“I-uh-” he stammered, clearly not sure what to say now that you two were in such close proximity, and he could feel your warmth next to him.

“It’s fine. You don’t have to say anything,” you explained to him. “I’ve just been so tired and stressed as well, I just wanted to relax tonight.”

You shifted a bit closer to him on the bed. He didn’t say anything or move in the next couple of seconds, the two of you just enjoying the moment in the bed before the stress of the next day’s training and planning would hit.

You sighed softly. How long had it been since you had felt this tired? Sure, the titans on Paradise were basically eliminated--but you were not naive enough to think that this would be the end of your journey as a soldier. Just the thought of encountering more titans across the sea that would threaten your friends and family made you almost sick.

Your pretty face crumpled into a bitter frown.

“Y/n…” he said slowly.

“What?” you replied, looking up at him through your eyelashes, eyes tired.

“I...I want you to be happier.” he muttered, turning to you and fixing his dark eyes on your face. “I know you’ve been stressed recently, pushing yourself during training and so have I, but...stay safe, okay? I’m worried about you.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. Yeah, Hitch and Sasha and Mikasa teased you about training too hard a lot and always checked up on you, but this was the first time someone had noticed you weren’t happy doing this much training, and how you sometimes pushed yourself to limits that you knew you couldn’t keep up.

Overwhelmed with surprise and emotion, you threw your arms around Jean and put your chin on his shoulder. His muscles immediately tensed around you, and his warm hands wrapped around your waist, fitting perfectly in its dips.

You buried your face in his neck, breathing in his delicious smell of wood and wine.

Your thoughts were running at a million miles per hour, and you figured you could be more vulnerable with him now.

“Jean, I...I really liked sitting on you on the train today.” you blurted out, still hugging him.

He went stiff for a moment, and you feared you had ruined the moment between you two until he chuckled, the vibrations from his chest spreading to you.

“Yeah...I liked it too.”

You broke off the hug to look at him, only to find him already looking at you and smirking.

Before you know it, his lips were connecting to yours, and your hands were running through his soft hair and tugging the ends to get him closer to you somehow. He broke off the kiss, and you furrowed your brows, but then felt his lips on your neck, sucking it and definitely leaving marks that would last for the next couple of days.

You let out a soft moan that he responded with by marking your neck even harder. You felt his lips curl into a smirk on your neck.

“Jean...have you done this before?” you murmured.

“Uh…” he said.

Before he could finish his response, you pulled his hair and pulled him off of your neck.

“Relax…” you said, tilting your head to give him your own smirk as you trailed your hand down his chest, rapidly unbuttoning the buttons of his thin shirt and feeling the hard planes of his chest stiffen under your hand. “I want to make you feel less stressed too.”

He groaned. “Y/n...you really don’t have to do this,” he muttered, looking away from you as if embarrassed.

You smiled up at him from your position in between his thighs, unbuckling his belt and pulling his pants off before running your hand over his muscular thighs.

“I want to, though. I want to taste you,” you said, keeping eye contact with him.

His dick was longer than you expected, flushed a warm color and with a slight curve at the tip that you knew would hit that spot in you later that brought you the most pleasure.

He let out a choked whimper at the first time your warm tongue touched his throbbing member, his thighs tensing and veined hands clenching the bedsheets.

You continued to pepper small licks around his dick, giving him comments that made him even harder, if that were even possible, like “You look so nice like this.” and “Stay still for me, okay?”

The way the 6”3 man was now completely at your mercy, his head tilted back and muscles tensed, made you get slicker down there.

“F-fuck, Y/n....” he groaned, peering down at you and your flushed face through the messed up strands of hair that your hands had been running through earlier.

You smirked as he continued to groan.

“But I’ve only been licking your tip? Why are you so sensitive?” you teased him, a string of saliva connecting your mouth and his tip. He only let out another moan in response, his tip twitching again.

You relaxed your throat and began to take him down completely, although his length barely fit in your mouth.

Jean let out even more moans, moaning your name and “fuck” repeatedly. A sheen of sweat covered his chest, glistening in the moonlight and lamp light, and you marveled at the sight.

After a few more times of deep-throating him, he suddenly reached his hands down and yanked your head roughly off of his dick. You looked at him, confused at the sudden demeanor change, still wanting to feel him pulse beneath your tongue and see him lose all his control.

“I was about to cum, but I want to wait until I’m inside of you”, he explained. “Now, it’s my turn to taste you.”

He pulled you up from your position between his legs, and roughly pulled off your shirt so that your breasts were out, and you pulled off your shorts and underwear yourself. The cold air hit your sensitive parts, making them even more sensitive.

When you were on his bed, exposed to his dark eyes trailing over your body that you were proud of from all your days of training, you felt heat rush between your legs.

You pushed your legs together, embarrassed all of a sudden, but Jean lowered his body and bent his head down so that he was hovering above your thighs, and spread your legs for you, his grip as tight as steel.

“Don’t hide from me,” he commanded.

You let out a moan in response, loving the feel of his hands pressing into your soft thighs. You knew where this was heading, and the anticipation made your head dizzy.

Jean lowered his face so that you could feel his breath on you, and you whimpered in anticipation. At the first contact of his tongue on you, you moaned, because no other guy had done this with you. You vaguely thought of how after tonight, no other guy would ever compare to how you felt with Jean.

“Jean…” you moaned.

“Fuck, you taste even better than I thought you would,” he responded, as he sucked your clit and ran his tongue through your folds.

As he continued eating you out, his grip still preventing your thighs from closing, he let out some of his own groans that made you even wetter, and combined with your moans to make the best sounds you had heard in your life.

“Jean…” you repeated, gripping his granite-colored hair in your hands. “I want you in me now.”

Jean gave your clit one last kiss before he got up, licking his lips.

He smiled at you, loving the sight of you as a panting mess on his sheets. His dick was rock hard already, wanting to be inside of you.

You blushed when you saw the wetness on his stubble, but he seemed to not mind at all. Jean began rubbing his tip on you, and thrust his hips forward all of a sudden, even though you were still recovering from your previous orgasms.

When he slid in easily, due to how wet you were, both of you moaned at the sensation.

“Oh fuck...you fit me perfectly.”

The sight of Jean, strands from his side parted hair falling into his forehead, darkened with sweat, made you moan even more. His eyes were fixated on you, begging for more of his dick and for him to go faster.

The intensity of his stare made you look away, blushing and moaning, but his large fingers grabbed your chin and made you look back at him.

“Don’t look away.” he scolded.

“A-alright.” you moaned, looking back into his eyes.

He began to pound into your faster, eyes never leaving yours, his hand making his way to grope your breasts before settling around your throat, not pushing very hard but probably leaving marks there.

You seemed to be sucking him into you every time he pulled out again, which made his rough thrusting irresistible and his moans louder.

The intensity of the pleasure you felt every time he fucked you this good made your eyes roll back and sweat to cover both you and Jean’s bodies. 

“Jean...I’m coming soon…” you moaned.

“Me too.” he gritted his teeth and slowing his thrusts so that they were precise and deep.

“Please…” you moaned, not sure what you were begging for: some sort of release, anything, as you clawed his back.

“Please what?” he groaned.

“Please...let me cum…” you whimpered.

Jean groaned at your pretty sounds, so desperate for release, and began thrusting harder.

It was as if he couldn’t control his deep thrusts. You had known that curve in his dick would hit you at the right spots, but now that you were actually experiencing it, you were sure you were in heaven.

With a cry, both of you came, Jean cumming into the condom. He gave you a few more lazy thrusts to milk out your broken cries before he pulled out and leaned down over your naked body to kiss you.

“Y/n… That was amazing.” he blushed again, seemingly shy all of a sudden after he had just fucked you into almost-a-coma.

“I could say the same to you, Jean…” you smiled.

He went into the bathroom and got something to clean you up with.

“We made a mess on the sheets,” you groaned into the pillow. “Hitch is gonna tease me so bad about this tomorrow.”

Jean laughed, his eyes crinkling at you. 

“Whatever. But you look so pretty right now Y/n. How could she tease you when you look so pretty?” he joked.

“You’re too sweet, Jean…” you smiled back at him as he clambered slightly awkwardly back into the small bed with you.

Damn, I am so lucky, you marveled to yourself as he put his arm around you and pulled you closer to his chest. You buried your face into his chest, breathing in his scent. His usually meticulous hair was now messy and tickling your ear again.

“You know … Ymir was right about you having a horse cock…” you giggled.

Jean frowned, pulling you off his chest to look you in the eyes. “What the fuck?!” he snorted, but his lips were pulling up into a smile.

The rest of the night was filled with you two laughing and joking about trivial matters, distracting you from the pain and loss that would happen the next year. But that night was one out of many special nights between you and Jean only.

Hitch took one glance at your messy hair, eye bags, and goofy smile the next morning and instantly began squealing.

“I TOLD YOU SO, SASHA!” she screamed.

Connie and Sasha smirked at you, whispering something about how they had known it since they had caught Jean staring at you during training when you first joined the Corps.

“Hitch...shut up please…” you groaned, exchanging a look with Jean, who was blushing again.

[batboyimagines]

Cold-blooded part two [Damian Wayne x Male Reader]

You will want to read the first part of this! And another note, I feel it’s important to say I haven’t actually seen the movie this is loosely based off of? I only know it’s vague plot. So heads up, this will definitely be deviating from that plot!

“So first things first, I’m gonna need supplies for this.” Your dad says.

You, Dad, Robin, and the rest of the Teen Titans have regrouped in the living room. After much planning and replanning, there’s finally a plan.

“I’m going to have to swing by an old flame’s to get some extra muscle for this ritual we’re setting up. It’s not made for a single person to do.”

“My ma?” You ask. Dad makes a constipated look.

“No,” He says, “her name is Zatanna. She’s helped the Justice League before and I’m sure she’d be willing to help them now.”

“Oh, okay.” You say sinking back into the couch, arms crossed. Though you know they’re in danger, you still feel a bit weird about helping them out. It’s a bit ridiculous, only Wonder Woman and Aquaman really have ties to the gods. And Aquaman’s not in any danger, so you don’t have to worry about him.

But you know your Ma, and you know how bitter she is over what they did to her. Which is totally fair. It’s just that you’re not sure how she’d feel about you saving one of the god’s pet projects.

“... and that’s that. So, when do we need to leave?” Your dad finishes. Oh shoot, you spaced.

“It would be best if we went right now.” Nightwing replies. He pushes off the wall and his team follows suit, readying to depart. Your dad turns to you.

“Listen, bud, do you think you’ll be fine holding down the fort while I’m gone?” He asks. You hesitate.

“Uh, actually, I was wonder if... I dunno, I could come along?” Your dad reels a bit.

“Kiddo, this isn’t a safe ‘Bring your kid to work’ deal, this is dangerous. You could get hurt.”

“I know, but I feel weird hanging out here while you’re not around. And I’m a bit worried that some rando could come to the door and I won’t know what to do. Also I’m an all magic half snake being with unknown powers sooo.” 

Your dad thins his lips, looking thoughtful.

“Really, Dad, I’ll be fine. I’ll stick out of the action and whatnot and if I think I’m in any danger I’ll run as far as possible.” You plead. “I’ll have my phone with me? I know how to call now.”

“... alright. But you stay out of trouble.” He relents. You push to your feet with a grin and go to get your coat.

Under your breath, you hiss, “Hell yesss.”

The great thing about living with a magic user is that they have the best modes of transport. In your somewhat short life, you yourself haven’t traveled very much. When your mother is exiled and has no way of getting off her small prison of an island, you tend to not go anywhere. 

Being passed between your Ma and your Pa is a pretty recent development. This is the most traveling you’ve done in your entire life, and the option to go to different places is still a marvel to you. Really, the average person can just walk down a street, hop on a train, and go to an entirely new place, no fuss? What a concept.

An exciting, and sort of terrifying, concept.

“I’ve got a short cut to hers down in that alley,” Your father explains, leading you and the Titans through the empty streets, “though I try not to use it much.”

“Why not?” You ask from his side, shivering a little and shrinking into your coat. Though you’re thankful that early mornings mean that only the occasional jogger is awake, they are unfortunately very cold. And you are part snake. With cold blood.

“We didn’t exactly part on good terms.” 

“Are you sure she’ll help us?” Koriander asks.

“Oh she will, she’s not my biggest fan, but she wouldn’t leave you lot to the wolves just because she doesn’t like me.” He finally comes to a stop in front of the alley. You, more focused on not letting your teeth chatter, bump into his back. 

“This is it right?” You say, muffled into the collar of your coat. Man, you wish you brought a scarf. 

“Sure is.”

The alley is a dead end, entirely ordinary and bland. There’s not even a dumpster shoved against one of its grimy brick walls. 

But your father walks in, as if it leads somewhere, and you and the Titans follow. As you approach the bricked end, you expect your father to do, well, something to open the wall or whatever. But no, he just walks straight through the bricks.

You blink a bit. Since you’ve come to the modern world, you’ve been getting into video games. Shitty, old video games that your Pa bought from a thrift shop in panic before you had arrived for the first time. And your father walking through the bricks sort of reminds you of when you clip through walls.

Even so, you don’t want to be left behind. So even though that looked really weird, you walk through too.

The other side is much darker, and much, much grimier. And the air is stuffier. Your eyes water and you hack a bit.

“You alright there bud?” Your Pa asks in concern, laying a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“The air here sucks!” You wheeze, blinking  tears from your sensitive eyes. 

“I agree.” Robin grumbles from your side. Looks like the Titans made it through fine as well. Your father raises an eyebrow.

“This is your city, isn’t it?” He asks. His city? 

“Just because I protect this wretched place, does not mean I enjoy breathing it’s polluted air.” Robin gripes. Nightwing makes an amused face at that. 

“Whatever,” Pa shrugs, “Zatanna’s down this way.”

Down that way, a quaint, hole in the wall magic shop glows. Back home with Ma, your light sources are either the sun, fire, or a magical doodad that somehow wound up in your possession. So no matter how many times you see light bulbs or neon lights, you don’t think the marvel will ever wear off.

The door rings a cheery jingle as your Pa pushes it open and you hit a wall of hot air when you enter. You revel in its heat. Living with cold blood is such a drag. Sometimes you miss the warm beaches of your mothers prison, though the nights leave warmth to be desired. 

After soaking in the warm air, you take a moment to survey the inside. It’s... a bit cluttered. And dusty. For some reason, magical items are always old and it seems like old things are always a little dirty. 

You brush a finger on one of the wooden tables displaying merchandise, yep, that’s some dusty stuff alright. You stick your tongue out. It smells dusty too. And like books and perfume. Flowery perfume. You hate flowery perfume. You tuck your tongue back in your mouth and grimace. 

It’s one of the worse human inventions. One time Dad came home from what you gathered was some sort of fling, stinking like someone’s nasty perfume. Though you sort of feel guilty for it now, you couldn’t stick around in his presence for more than two minutes. 

“Zatanna! You in?” Your father calls out into the maze of tall shelves. If you’re not imagining it, he’s making his voice just that bit more obnoxious. 

Robin looks at you and catches your eye. He makes a face at your father’s behavior that has you stifling a snort.

“Zataaaaannaaaaaaa, aaaare yoooou heeeeereeee?”

Wow, he’s laying the annoying on thick.

“Zataaaaaa-“

“Yes! Oh my god, I’m here!” A dark haired woman gripes as she appears through the shelves.

“Zatanna! My good friend,” your father grins, “how’ve you been?”

“Great, until you waltzed back into my life.” She says flatly.

“Good, good, anyways,” you zone out at your father says things. 

You’re distracted by the displays of magical items that you’re not totally sure are real. There’s not doubt in your mind that this Zatanna lady is a magic user, she totally is, but would she actually sell magic items? That stuff is no joke, your Ma’s told you plenty of horror stories about magic gone wrong. And you fell asleep in the middle of half of those!

“See something you like?” Oh shoot, she’s talking to you.

“Uhhh,” fuck, how do you respond? Well, there’s nothing catching your eye you guess, “uhm.. no?”

“It’s just that you seem so interested in the display,” she says amusedly gesturing towards the general space you just staring at.

“Well, I was just wondering if any of this stuff is real, cause, magic stuffs... dangerous usually.” 

“I have real items, but I keep those in the back. This stuff is for the common folk.” 

“Oh cool.”

“So,” Zatanna turns back to the others. You take that as a sign to go back to spacing out. 

Heaters are awesome. They’re the best invention of the modern world, in your humble opinion. All the hot air is coming from a vent in the wall next to you. You scooch in front of it. Hot airrr, hell yeahhh. This rocks. You could stand right here for hours.

“C’mon kiddo, we’re off.” 

GOD. DAMN IT.

Dejectedly, you trudge to the open door, where your Pa awaits. Ugh, that chilly breeze is not welcoming. 

[writing-red]

from the dining table

draco malfoy x reader (mentions of harry potter x reader)

summary: You and Draco broke up and he is trying desperately to get in touch with you even though he knows exactly why you aren’t picking up the phone (song fic based on harry styles’ from the dining table)

request: @runninglownad​ hii! can i request a draco imagine based on from the dining table by harry? thanks sooo much <3

warnings: this is super angsty, breakup, toxic relationship, sad anger and drinking

a/n: I hope you enjoy!! and photo credit to @fixedunit​

word count: 2.1k

Woke up alone in this hotel room

Played with myself, where were you?

It was seven when Draco finally decided to stop fighting the insomnia. Thoughts of you claiming his mind and making him entirely unable to find sleep. The white hotel sheets were curled around him, pillows on the floor, broken glass shattered around him like an unholy halo, and the room in total disarray. He laid there, staring at the ceiling, unsure of what to do with himself, unsure of what to do with himself now that he had lost you. He so desperately wished that he could squeeze his eyes shut only to open them and find you laying there next to him, wishing desperately to see that incredible beaming smile of yours, the one that would turn your cheeks rosy red.

He rose from the bed and navigated around the mess on the floor to get to the bar in the room. With a heavy hand he poured himself a scotch, as he continued to think of you; the feeling of your lips on his, the lines of witty banter you always seemed to whip out of nowhere, and the idea that he may never hear the rasp of your voice in the morning again.

Fell back to sleep, I got drunk by noon

I’ve never felt less cool

He abandoned the glass dragged the bottle back to the bed, putting on the television as a distraction. He couldn’t seem to find a program that didn’t make him think of you, he couldn’t get the sound of your sweet and joyous laugh echoing through whatever space you held.

Tears streamed down his face as he downed the scotch, he felt like an absolute child. Crying over a girl, drinking, and sleeping. The pattern was pathetic and the last thing Draco Malfoy was, was pathetic. Yet it seems you could reduce him down to a blubbering child and all he would think of is how terribly he missed you, and how badly he wanted to smell your deep ambrosial perfume. By the time he woke up again the digital clock next to the bed was flashing 12:13 as if it was mocking him, goading him to wake up and get over himself. 

We haven’t spoke since you went away

Comfortable silence is so overrated 

Why won’t you ever be the first one to break?

Even my phone misses your call, by the way

Your voicemail, the one you had recorded with him, your voice was happy, and it sounded as if you would never be sad again.

“You’ve got Y/n” joyful, happy, in love. “I am buuuuusy and I am so very sorry I missed your call but shoot me a text or leave a voicemail after the beep and we shall speak at another time! Thanks.”

“Y/n, darling?” he muttered. “Look I know that I fucked up, and that you don’t want to talk but can we please just go get coffee, I want to see you, and I don’t want to end things on that note. Please, I know that we aren’t getting back together, I just, Y/n I need to see you.”

“You’ve got Y/n! I am buuuuusy and I am so very sorry I missed your call but shoot me a text or leave a voicemail after the beep and we shall speak at another time! Thanks,” Draco was mocked by the shrill beep that followed the sound of your voice.

“Hey, I’m sorry about all the voicemail’s and all of the text messages, if you don’t want to see me please just tell me so. Look I just, Y/n, I am miserable and I really just want to apologize for everything face to face. Please don’t just ignore me.”

“You’ve got Y/n! I am buuuuusy and I am so very sorry I missed your call but shoot me a text or leave a voicemail after the beep and we shall speak at another time! Thanks,” Draco listened solemnly as the voicemail played wishing this wasn’t the only way he could hear your voice.

“Look, I get it if you don’t want to talk to me, just, tell me yourself don’t just ignore me. Please,” he was desperate, to see you without tears streaming down your face, tears he had caused.

I saw your friend that you know from work

He said you feel just fine

I see you gave him my old t-shirt

More of what was once mine

Weeks past and Draco didn’t hear back from you. He knew that you were forcing him to move on and he didn’t want to accept it but he knew that he had no other choice. He was back to work, back to normal, although no matter what he did he couldn’t seem to get the thought of you out his head. He was drinking, more than usual, smoking more than usual, and he had destroyed his fair share of hotel rooms. It was time for him to start living his life again.

You had always loved coffee, going to coffee shops, trying out different drinks, people watching, you had made the whole ordeal a habit for Draco and now it was a way for him to hold onto you. He thought that if he was lucky enough he’d catch you at one of them.

Today he went before work, luckily he had skipped the morning coffee shop rush and there were just a few other people inside the shop.

“I’ll have a black drip coffee, and a croissant,” he said, handing the barista money.

“Here’s your change, and it’ll all come up at that bar over there,” she said gesturing to the end of the bar.

“Thanks,” Draco said kindly as he stepped over to where the barista had gestured to wait for his order.

“Malfoy,” he heard a familiar voice.

“Potter,” Draco said, surprised to see the man you had both gone to school with, and who you now worked with.

“Nice to see you, what have you been up to recently” Harry asked him.

“Just work,” Draco observed Harry, the man he had always been so jealous of, for a moment when his eyes caught something similar. “That’s a bit of a posh shirt for you isn’t it?”

“Ah- it was in Y/n’s flat, I mean she gave it to me because it was in her flat and it’s my size and all that.”

“Got it. I think that’s mine,” he said, his eyes still on the shirt as the barista placed his coffee and pastry on the bar in front of them. “Tell Y/n I say hi?”

“Sure thing mate, she’s uh doing pretty alright,” Harry offered and Draco nodded, swiftly exiting the coffee shop refusing the urge to start crying over you again.

I see it’s written, it’s all over his face

Comfortable silence is so overrated

Why won’t you ever be the first one to break?

Even my phone misses your call, by the way

Potter. You had to choose Potter of all the men you knew to sleep with. It was as if you were trying to hurt him, trying to drive the knife further into his heart. That night Draco proceeded to call you all of thirteen times, four of the calls sober, and the other nine varying levels of drunk until he finally blacked out.

All he wanted was to hold you one more time, to hear you talk over a movie, shout out the lyrics to some old Bon Jovi song, watch you dance atop your kitchen table, you were always the perfect antagonist to silence and now it seemed that silence was all he could hear. People would speak to him and he couldn’t hear it, he would try and remember the sound of you, your singing, your voice, your laugh, but his memories of you were only pictures.

Maybe one day you’ll call me and tell me that you’re sorry too

But you, you never do

The ringer on his phone was always on, and when it buzzed he picked it up as quickly as a man could. Although, he was routinely disappointed to find that it was either Blaise, his boss, his mum, or a hotel calling to let him know of the damages done and the charges he would incur. But it didn’t matter, none of those calls mattered because they weren't you.

He just wanted you back, and all he could do was call and call, while picturing you lying in Harry Potter’s arms. You had chosen to be with Potter, and you had chosen to leave Draco, and Draco just couldn’t cope with your choices.

Woke up the girl who looked just like you

I almost said your name

He didn’t know this ones name, and he didn’t know the last one’s name. These girls that circled through his bed, each of them vaguely resembling you in one way or another. Today he awoke to seeing your nose, and your hair on someone else. Sleeping with these women upset him more than it comforted him, but it was at least something to do with himself.

“Y/-” he stopped himself. “Hey, I’ve got to go to work.” He said, shaking the girl awake.

“Can’t I just leave after you?” She groaned, her eyes still closed.

“No, get up,” Draco said as he got out of bed and pulled the duvet off of her. “Now,”

“Fine, I’m going,” she said, taking her time to draw herself up. “And I promise I won’t be back.”

And there she went, another person lost whether he wanted her or not. All he knew how to do was drive people away. He didn’t want to get over you, ever since your trip to New York you had been the love of his life. But now he resolved to living his life as a ghost, constantly in terrible silence without you.

Comfortable silence is so overrated

Why won’t you ever be the first one to break?

Even my phone misses your call, by the way

Taglist -  @sarcasticallywitty15​​ @fred-love-bot​​

[sephiwhore]

tw: severe menstrual cramps, endometriosis, brief mention of infertility

Prompt fill for @noctrl22, who requested Johnny experiencing V’s period cramps. I’ve never actually experienced painful period cramps so I had to do some interesting research for this one. I’d also just happened to watch a youtube video on endometriosis when I got the request, sooo...

714 words

Click here for more Johnny/V ficlets!

~~~~~~ An unseen attacker. Behind her. V looked down to see two blades emerging from her stomach. Not...her stomach, a man’s. But the pain, the pain was hers, she could feel it.

“V? V!” shouted a voice from...somewhere. Her head. In her head.

“Johnny, wha…”

The glitching form of her new brain companion was leaning over the side of her bed, looking at her. “You were...whimpering in your sleep. The Relic?”

Relic? No, that was—suddenly remembering her dream, V lifted the covers, expecting to see two blades running through her. No, no blades, but the stabbing pain sure as hell was there.

Ah.

“No, it’s my uterus,” she groaned.

“Wh— oh,” Johnny said, comprehension hitting him. “Right...woman’s body...gotta admit, I was wondering when that would...happen.”

“By the way, you might wanna prepare for—

“Oh fuck.” Johnny’s eyes went wide as, presumably, the delayed sensation hit him. “What the fuck. Feels like I got stabbed, what th—” He half stumbled, half fell over to the foot of the bed and sat, clutching his stomach.

“Yup.”

He looked at her, bewildered. “This is normal?”

“Yup. Is for me, at least.”

“V. Is this gonna be my life now?” he asked. He looked just about terrified.

And V found it hilarious. “For as long as you’re in my head, you bet. Nice payback for slowly killing me, I’d say.”

Johnny lay back on the bed with a heavy sigh. “Well, aren’t you gonna fuckin do something about it? Go chug some tequila.”

“Makes it worse.”

“Cigarette.”

“Makes it worse.”

“Painkillers.”

“Ha! The non-addicting shit is impossible to find, and I’m not about to spark a drug addiction just cause a rockerboy can’t handle a little pain.”

“A little? I feel like I’m dying.”

“You’ll get used to it.”

“Mean to say you’ve gotten used to it?”

V stared at the ceiling. She tried not to focus on the throbbing in her abdomen. She wasn’t about to admit it to Johnny, but the company, the conversation, helped a little. “Don’t really have a choice, not much else I can do. Vik sometimes gives me some anaesthesia on the worst days but he doesn’t open till 10.”

Johnny groaned. “Has it always been this bad?” he asked. Was that concern V detected?

“Mhm. Endometriosis. It’s a—”

“Yeah. Had an ex with that. Made her infertile and she was delighted, she could have all the unprotected sex she wanted. She refused to use condoms so I dumped her.” Johnny let out a chuckle. “Turned out the doctors were wrong, the guy she fucked around with after me got her pregnant.”

She knew she shouldn’t, but V let out a laugh. The movement causing a minor jolt of pain that she largely ignored. “Smart head you got there, rockerboy.”

“The last thing I needed was a kid I’d have to cart around on tour.”

“Johnny, I don’t think you’re suppo— fuuuuu…” V curled in on herself as a spasm of pain surged through her abdomen and somehow ended up in her feet. “Nnnnn...get ready for that one.”

“Great,” Johnny said dryly. “Can’t you call Vik? Or the...girl with the hair?”

V sighed. “Do you want me to take a blocker? Or are you gonna stop whining?”

“I meant for you, V. You shouldn’t have to grit your teeth and bear this bullshit.”

“Oh…” It was concern. “Holy shit, does Johnny Silverhand have a heart after all? I’m touched. But I don’t want to wake him up, I’m fine waiting.”

“No, you— shit shit shit shit shit SHIT what is it doing in your feet?? Do you have a whole”—Johnny gestured vaguely in V’s direction—” thing there too? Jesus.” He sat up with a groan and looked her in the eye. “V, call Vik now, before you have to deal with another one of those.” He didn’t hold eye contact for long, and flopped back down across V’s feet. “And so I don’t have to deal with it. There, see, Johnny Silverhand is still a selfish bastard after all.”

“Fine,” V sighed, and reached for her phone. “But only so you’ll stop bugging me.”

Naturally, she couldn’t tell him she really was grateful for the concern. For the distraction. For his company.

That would never happen.

[darks-ink]

Pulse - Ectoberweek 2020

Another day, another AU from my ideas file. Warning for general Accident-related spookiness. Also look it’s the fic where I let my followers decide if I was gonna write Tucker POV or Sam POV.

Rating: Gen Warnings: - Genre: Friendship Words: 2,395 Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Ghosts

[AO3] [FFN]

---

“So,” Tucker said, before falling silent. Hoped to prompt one of the others into speaking up instead.

“So,” Danny echoed. “What happened?”

“Why are you asking us?” Tucker flailed upright so he could look at Danny. “You’re the one who went into the Portal!”

“Well, yeah, but—” He gestured vaguely. “You two are acting weird. What happened after the Portal turned on?”

“What, you don’t remember?” Sam leaned forward, frowning at Danny.

Danny scoffed. “Obviously not.”

How could he not remember? That he’d come out of the Portal looking like he’d died, like the perfect image of a ghost? “Dude, you’re joking, right? How could you not have noticed?”

“Noticed what? Come on, just tell me!”

“He really doesn’t remember.” Sam reached over to tug on Tucker’s leg. “Tuck, what if it’s like a possession thing?”

“It’s not a possession thing,” Tucker dismissed immediately. “What kinda possession would change the host into a ghost as well. It’s just…” He trailed off.

Danny made a face. “I don’t think I like where this is heading. What do you guys mean, a possession thing? What happened, seriously?”

Honestly, Tucker didn’t think he could explain. And based on the look Sam was throwing him, neither could she. Still, he cleared his throat and tried. “Well, it was just… weird, y’know? When you came out of the Portal. You weren’t really yourself.”

“Your colors were all weird,” Sam continued at Danny’s quirked eyebrow. “Your suit had gone black with white gloves, your hair was crazy pale, and your eyes had gone green. And,” she flapped her hand, “there was also the fact that you glowed.”

“I… glowed?” Danny repeated, slowly and questioningly. “What, like a ghost?”

“Exactly like a ghost,” Tucker confirmed, crossing his arms and staring at Danny. He looked just like he always did. Warm and fleshy and not at all like what they’d seen just before. “And the way you were looking at us, you’d think that you didn’t recognize us. Either of us.”

“Weird.” Danny frowned, one hand closing around the wrist of the other. Almost like a nervous gesture, except one that Danny had never shown before. “I don’t… remember any of that. But clearly it went away. Right?”

“Yeah, no, exactly.” Tucker nodded quickly, uncrossing his arms so he could mimic an explosion. “There was a flash of light and then suddenly, there you were again. Back to normal.”

Danny hummed. “I… think I remember the flash of light? Maybe. But I thought it was the after-effects of the Portal.”

“Who knows, maybe it was.” Tucker shrugged, mentally crossing his fingers and hoping to god it was. “A one-off caused by the ectoplasmic exposure, or whatever.”

“We’ll need to keep an eye on it anyway,” Sam pointed out, shifting her eyes from Tucker back to Danny. “It might not happen again, but we don’t know what that was, let alone what kind of effects it might’ve had.”

“Right.” Danny nodded, once, strongly. “You two are here for the rest of the weekend anyway. We’ll see after that.”

---

The rest of the day passed by normally, and briefly, Tucker entertained the hope that it really had been a one-off. But during the night he woke to a bright flash of light, and lo and behold, there was the ghostly version of Danny again.

“Man, really,” he grumbled, rubbing the heel of his hand over his eyes to try and get the grit out. “You’re bright as hell, dude, couldn’t you have done this during the day?”

Danny’s glow brightened in response, his vivid green eyes narrowing in a frown. “I’m sorry?”

“Sure don’t sound very sorry.” And he didn’t. Mostly, he just sounded very confused. “Go wake up Sam, will you? If I’m suffering we all are.”

A slow, almost deliberate blink was his response, before Danny turned away to look at Sam. He shifted closer, his gaze wandering back to Tucker. Then, still watching Tucker, Danny stretched out his leg and kicked Sam in the shoulder.

Sam grunted, hand swatting at Danny’s leg. “I will kill you.”

“Um,” Danny said, pulling his leg back towards himself. And then continued pulling himself away from Sam, actually lifting off of his bed entirely, until he floated a foot or so above it.

“If you fall I’m not gonna catch you, dude,” Tucker told him, even though he probably would try to catch him, if Danny had gone high enough that he might hurt himself. Still, he didn’t need to know that. “Do you even know what you’re doing?”

“Yeah?” Danny turned to frown at him again. “Yeah, definitely.” He sounded plenty convinced, too.

Didn’t sound nearly as confident when Sam grabbed his arm suddenly, lunging up from the floor where she had been lying. Danny yelped, tugging himself free with a bout of something which Tucker was sure was ghostly intangibility.

“Alright, that’s cheating,” Sam claimed, opening her hand, still holding it out in Danny’s direction. “Give me your hand.”

“Why?” he asked her, slowly moving the hand back in her direction, eyes narrowed. They glowed brightly in the dark of the room. “What’re you gonna do?”

She snatched his hand up, fingers burrowing past the hem of his white glove. “Checking something.”

Oh. She was… oh.

“No pulse,” she reported, before moving her fingers to tug on the edge of Danny’s glove. “And this seems to be part of his body.”

“Well,” Tucker said, before pausing to swallow past the block in his throat. “I guess his pulse will come back when he goes back to normal? He seems pretty ghostly right now.”

Sam hummed, pinching the sleeve of Danny’s jumpsuit, ignoring the look Danny was throwing her way. “The clothes is a ghost thing too, I think. The Fentons always claimed that their shapes were simple and only had one layer, or something like that.”

“Right, yeah, I remember that.” Maybe they should’ve looked into the whole ghost thing a little more. Danny was looking very much like a ghost right now, and Tucker kinda wished he knew more.

Like if his friend was gonna be okay.

“I don’t understand what’s happening,” Danny said, flat and a little hopelessly. He jangled the arm Sam was holding, but didn’t seem very intent on throwing her off.

“Welcome to the club,” she said with a snort, pinching him again. “You don’t feel this?”

“No?” Danny frowned at her, utter confusion clear on his face. “Am I supposed to?”

“Something here seems weird,” Tucker commented. He paused. “Weirder than it already was. Danny, man, what is up with you?”

“Who, me?” Danny asked, twisting around to look at Tucker again. “I really don’t know what’s happening.”

Sam paused, releasing her pinching grip but still holding on to Danny’s arm. “Danny, what are you saying?”

“Danny?” he repeated, tone questioning. “Why are you calling me that?”

Tucker felt his heart stop. He stared at Danny, incredulously, but there wasn’t even the slightest hint of joking.

“Because… it’s your name?” he managed, feebly, not looking away from Danny. “You’re our best friend, Danny Fenton. Don’t you remember?”

The ghost of his best friend blinked at him, then at Sam. “I… no? I don’t remember anything.”

“Sooo… About the Fenton’s theory that ghosts don’t remember anything,” Sam said, voice quiet. Uncharacteristically shaken. “I mean… Before, Danny didn’t remember this either. It’s like… two separate states?”

“Oh, yeah, I remember now!” Danny exclaimed, still looking at Sam. “I saw you two earlier, briefly! But then light flashed, and now I’m here.” He looked around, curiously. “Where is here?”

Well, way to drive the point home, buddy. “Okay, so. The accident made it so that he’s, what, both human and ghost, and the two states just kind of switch around? Fuck, Sam.”

“I know,” she hissed back, cautiously releasing Danny’s arm. “Stay in your room, okay Danny?” Seeing him frown, she added, “That’s this room. Stay in this room, okay?”

“Sure,” he agreed easily, floating off to peer at some of the decorations Danny had in his room.

“Do you think we should tell his parents?” Tucker asked, scooting closer to Sam, keeping an eye on Danny. Or, Danny’s ghost, he supposed, since they apparently weren’t the same person. “I mean, if this starts happening more… He won’t be able to recognize them, or convince them of being Danny.”

Sam made a face. “Yeah, but… I dunno, Tuck, what if they try to hurt him? Experiment on him?”

They watched Danny poke around in his own room for a moment. Quietly, Sam continued, “Maybe he can hold it off. He didn’t shift until now, right? Maybe Danny’s control slipped while he was asleep. If we tell him to be careful he’ll stay out of trouble, right?”

“I don’t know, Sam.” Tucker sighed, deeply and wearily. “I really don’t know. Man, we’re just fourteen. Why are we dealing with this kinda stuff?” He looked over at Sam’s stricken face. “I mean— It’s not our fault. It’s not anyone’s fault, okay? Don’t blame yourself. We couldn’t have known.”

“Yeah, but—”

“No, Sam. Either everyone’s to blame for this, or no one is.” He pointed at Danny’s ghost, who was now trying to peel off one of the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling. “He could’ve refused to go in. I could’ve stopped him. His parents could’ve done a better job of locking up the lab, or the Portal, or anything. This isn’t just your fault, okay? Stop blaming yourself.”

Sam hummed, a disbelieving sound, but she didn’t protest, so Tucker would consider it a win.

Silence fell again as they watched the ghost frown at the sticky star on his hand. Then, almost hesitantly, he stuck the star to his chest.

“Man,” Tucker said, then paused when he realized he didn’t know where he’d been going with that sentence.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed quietly. Then, raising her voice some, she called over to Danny. “Hey, aren’t you tired or something? Let’s go to sleep, Danny.”

Again, bright green eyes turned to them. “I’m not tired,” he said simply. “Ghosts don’t sleep.” Then he frowned, and added, “I thought I wasn’t Danny? Not really?”

“Sorta kinda.” Tucker shrugged. “You’re like, his ghost, I guess? You don’t want to be Danny?”

“Seems confusing,” the ghost admitted, lowering himself until he floated at eye level to them. “He was Danny first, right? And I’m just his ghost. So I could be like… Phantom, or something.”

“Phantom,” Tucker echoed, dryly. “You really want to go by a synonym of ghost?”

The ghost in question shrugged. “Why not? And you said my—his—last name was Fenton, yeah? So it’s kind of a pun.”

Tucker groaned, even as Sam laughed, softly. “I should’ve figured, man. Your love for puns is immortal and undying.”

Phantom grinned at him, revealing green gums and pointed fangs, which Tucker somehow hadn’t noticed before. “Well, something had to carry over, yeah?”

“I guess,” Tucker agreed, sounding much more disgruntled than he felt. It was weird, yes, but it was also kinda nice, to see a little more Danny in Phantom. “Look, you might not need sleep because you’re a ghost, but Sam and I do.  Can we trust you to stay in this room and out of trouble?”

“Of course,” Phantom immediately assured him, before pausing. “Um. What constitutes as trouble, exactly?”

“Staying in this room should be good enough for now,” Sam said, gesturing around them. “But if anyone who isn’t us comes in, or knocks… I dunno, hide? Go invisible, maybe, if you can maintain it for long enough.”

“Your parents are ghost hunters. If they see you, they’ll probably try to hurt you,” Tucker tagged on. “You look just like Danny, but they’re not gonna stop and consider that, especially if you won’t have his memories to convince them.”

Phantom’s expression grew serious, and he nodded. “Got it. Stay here, stay out of sight.”

“Try not to be too loud, as well. Making a lot of noise will probably lead to them coming here to make sure we’re doing alright.” Sam narrowed her eyes. “And we’ll be trying to sleep, and loud noises don’t help with that.”

He nodded again. “Stay here, stay out of sight, don’t be loud. Anything else?”

“If you think you’re gonna switch back to Danny, maybe try to get yourself back to the bed? But other than that, no, I guess that that’s it.” Tucker sighed, sitting down on his pile of blankets. “Good night, Phantom.”

“Good night, Tucker, Sam,” he replied, floating away a little but not taking his eyes off of them. Apparently he was curious to see what sleep meant. Great. Brilliant.

Tucker shook his head, tucking himself back into his nest of blankets. From where he laid, he could see Sam do the same.

When they both remained still for a while, Phantom lost interest, going back to checking out the room. His room.

Through squinted eyes, Tucker watched him. Phantom hadn’t even noticed that he hadn’t taken off his glasses. Didn’t know the importance of it, probably.

On the other side of the room, Tucker could see Sam watching as well. They both knew damn well that they wouldn’t get a minute of sleep, not while Danny was… not Danny. While Phantom was around.

Tucker wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting from Phantom. He seemed to follow the Fentons’ ghost rules pretty closely, except he didn’t appear malevolent in the least. Even while he thought that no one was watching him, he did as had been asked: remained in the room, remained quiet.

Admittedly he didn’t do a great job of getting himself back to the bed when he shifted back, because light flashed and Danny Fenton collapsed onto the floor with an uncomfortably loud thud, but, well. He might not have noticed it was coming.

Tucker exchanged a grimace with Sam, then both of them got up to check over their best friend. Danny was fast asleep, grumbling under his breath when they nudged him. He would probably have a bruise from the landing, but hey. Could’ve been worse.

Wrapping his fingers around Danny’s ankles, Tucker watched Sam grab Danny’s wrists, and they lifted him back to the bed. And when they stepped away, Sam nodded at him, and said, quietly, “He’s got a pulse.”

Well. Tucker certainly slept better afterwards.

[rosy-cheekx]

“It’s cute that you tried to protect me and all, but you’re like a foot shorter than me, you know?” with jon and anyone??

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28062798

Sooo, here’s the thing. Along the way it became “It’s cute that you tried to attack me and all, but you’re like a foot shorter than me, you know?” The premise is the same but things sorta got out of hand. Either way...Happy Birthday Rye!! This is for you 💕😊

Tim was exhausted. He’d been up late the night before pouring through books on historic architecture, trying to find anything referencing Robert Smirke and his…unique building practices. While he wasn’t usually the one to take work home with him, this statement Jon had recorded, one about Leitner and Gerard Keay and the tunnels underneath the Pall Mall struck a chord with him. It felt just wrong enough to be related to Smirke. So he had been up at all hours, researching Smirke and any associations he may have had with Pall Mall. He had been successful, at the end of it, but had fallen asleep near five and gotten barely four hours of sleep before he was dragged to wretched consciousness again by the sun streaming through his window.

Normally, Tim would grab a coffee on the way to work, but honestly he was nearing a little too close to hand-to-mouth living as it was, especially with their paychecks not being due til next Friday. There was a coffee maker in the Archives breakroom, sputtering as it was. Coffee was coffee and coffee was what Tim needed. It was half eight, a little earlier than most of his crisp, just-late-enough-to-piss-Elias-off-but-not-enough-to-get-called-out-for-it 10:15 arrivals, but it didn’t matter. If he was lucky, no one else would be there.

-

Jon was in the Archives. When wasn’t Jon in the Archives? They were his Archives after all.

Jon blinked and peeled his cheek from the cool metal of his desk, wincing at the ghostly impression left from the heat and oils of his skin. His neck and spine protested in clicks and pops as he straightened himself up, wincing at the angle he had allowed himself to sleep in for so long. It was just after nine, according to the ever-ticking clock above the door to his office, the only door, the door he left propped open unless he was certain he was the only one there. (No one needed to come knocking for him.) He wasn’t sure when he had fallen asleep but it had definitely been past midnight, after even Elias had left his office and the hum of The Institute faded to a strangely comfortable silence, nothing but Jon and his files and statements. Just one more statement, he had thought to himself, wearily regarding the ever-growing stack of “To-Do” files in the box on his desk. One more and then I can go home and rest. One more now is one less Elias can ask after, the acknowledgement of Jon’s failure in his voice. Jon wasn’t sure if he had turned the tape recorder off or if he had just run out of tape-did they even run out of tape? They never seemed to. On investigation, the faint snuffling sounds he heard when he played the tape back proved he had forgotten to tur-

Wait. What was that?

Jon frowned and rewound the tape a few minutes, listening intently. There was the unmistakable sound of footsteps, faint but definitely there. Was someone in his archives? Jon pursed his lips and glanced again at the clock. Just after nine, even Sasha wouldn’t be here yet, the punctuality of her 9:25 arrival something you could set a clock to.

Jon glanced around, not really sure what it was he was looking for. Something to defend himself, maybe? He wasn’t sure when he’d decided to identify the source of the sound, but something in his gut had shifted. He settled on grabbing a crutch resting in the corner of his office, abandoned from his recovery after the Prentiss attack.

Armed, Jonathan Sims crept to the door of his office. The automatic lights in the hallway flickered on as he slowly peered down both sides of the hallway, curly hair a mess and swinging unhelpfully by his cheeks. No one. The hallway was empty, no shadows to be seen sweeping menacingly around the corner.

God. He was probably being stupid. It was probably the statements getting to him. But still, something urged the back of his mind. He couldn’t shake the notion he wasn’t alone in the cold, lonely basement.

Cautiously, Jon crept down the hall, holding the crutch first by the handle, then clumsily turning it over to hold it by the base towards the ground. He didn’t make a habit of watching American baseball, but he imagined he looked rather like the players at bat, the rest of the crutch resting on his shoulder, elbows cocked uncertainly.

“Sasha? Martin? Tim?” His voice was somewhere between a croak and a shout, halfway between cowardice and curiosity. No answer, not that he really expected one.

Jon listened intently as he reached the bullpen of the archives, where Tim, Sasha, and Martin’s desks were arranged. It took him a moment to register what was bothering him about the room before he realized it with a start: the lights were on. These were also automatic; Jon knew this from the number of times Tim, Sash, and Martin had burst into laughter and cacophonies of “no!” and “guess we’re done!” whenever they sat still too long, engrossed in their work. Jon had privately wondered if it had been set up to keep them from being productive.

But the lights were on. That meant someone had been through here. And recently. Jon was paralyzed for a moment, wondering what he should do. Call 999? Or Elias? If it was supern—strange, police wouldn’t be able to do much anyways. Furthermore, if he was imagining things, he would never here the end of it from Elias. What if he asked him to step down from the position? No, Jon could handle this. Of course he could. Whatever it was, he needed to see what was happening and could make a decision from there.

He heard a shuffle from the break room, a scuff of shoe on the worn lino. A thief who just decided to stop for a cuppa and sandwich? Well, the breakroom was next to the records room…what if it was a thing here to steal a statement? A thing like Jane Prentiss, or-or a vampire, or, god forbid, Michael?

Jon felt woozy with fear and nervous energy as he crept forward blindly, twisting the crutch in his hands as he approached the open doorway to the breakroom, the light to which was off. This bulb wasn’t auto, unfortunately. As Jon stood in the doorway, he let his eyes adjust the darkness of the small room, blinking nervously and sweeping the room with his eyes desperately, looking for a clue.

There.

A darker blackness in the black, making up a vaguely humanoid shape, standing motionless by the cupboards. Jon tried to speak, to address it, but his voice was barely a whisper, caught in his throat.

“W-Who are you?” No answer. Jon could’ve sworn it shifted towards him, the thing that looked like a head bobbing slightly.

It would take maybe six steps to get there. The light switch was by the fridge, at the other end of the room. Was it worth it? Jon could probably run and flip the switch but the creature would definitely know he was there. Maybe it was better to just run.

Jon was suddenly struck with a terrifying thought as the creature seemed to shift again, shuddering to itself. What if it was Jane Prentiss, lying in wait for Martin any one of them to come back?

He had to attack. Jon steeled himself, tightening his grip on the crutch.

Three.

Two.

One.

“Gahhhhhhhh!” Jon ran forward, swinging his makeshift weapon towards the creature. He watched the shape in the darkness shifted and seemed to compress and duck out of the way of his swinging, in slow motion but all at once. His crutch struck the countertop, and Jon vaguely registered a shattering as something hit the ground

“Jon!”

“…T-Tim?”

The shadow in the darkness shrunk and Jon blinked at the sudden brightness as the light came on, finally recognizing the creature as Tim, eyes wide as he surveyed his boss in front of him, hair mussed from sleep and wielding a crutch like a cricket bat.

“Jon, what the hell?” Tim’s voice was somewhere at the intersection of confusion, anger, and dazed humor, hard to pin down. “What are you doing here?”

“Me? What are you—It’s nine in the morning! How did you get in?” Jon felt all the adrenaline leave his body at once, and he dropped the crutch to the Formica counter he seemed to have chipped, shoulders sagging.

“I-coffee!” Tim gestured to the shattered ruins of a Derwent Water mug, an orange kayak in two distinct pieces as a coffee spread across the tiles slowly. Jon’s face must have shown the incredulity he was feeling, because Tim closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I couldn’t sleep, figured I’d be more use here. Didn’t feel like making a Costa run. That’s second to the real question, though, which would be: Why are you trying to kill me?”

Jon scrubbed his hands over his face; of course it was just Tim. He had been so terrified and it was just Timothy fucking Stoker. “I-I’m sorry, Tim. I heard something on my tape, and I thought there was someone in here…a-and there was. But I mean, someone who wasn’t supposed to be here. I-I did call out, b-but no one answered.” Jon sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I thought maybe you were a vampire. Or Michael. Or Jane Prentiss,” he admitted after a moment, voice quieter.

Two beats of silence, three, before Tim’s raucous, barking laughter finally broke the silence.

“Were you going to kill a vampire with a walking crutch?” Tim managed between chuckles, doubling over. “Just-” he makes a sweeping motion with closed fists over each other, “with a bat, like-like a piñata?” He was taken over by giggles again and Jon was left staring blankly, trying valiantly to figure out what was so funny.

“I-I dunno, maybe? I didn’t want to just do nothing.”

“I’m sorry, I-I shouldn’t be laughing, it’s-” Tim straightens and gestures at Jon, composing himself. “It’s cute that you tried to attack me and all, but you’re like a foot shorter than me, you know? You’re not exactly physically menacing.”

Jon stared. “I wasn’t trying to be menacing, I was trying-shit.” He felt warm liquid seeping into his socks-how did he just realize he wasn’t wearing shoes- and stumbled back, grabbing for the paper towels on the table. “I was trying to save my own ass. And I’m not that short.” Another snort from Tim, acknowledging and rejecting his argument. “Sorry about your mug,” Jon continued, dropping to a squat to sweep up the milky coffee and ceramic in a bundle of sopping paper.

“Meh, worth it,” Tim shrugged, dropping next to him and spooling towel into his own hands. “Yep,” popped the p. “The image of you baring your teeth at me like a wild dog is totally worth it. Besides, now I have an excuse to ask Sash to buy me a coffee from the posh place near her flat.”

“Oh, no, please. I should buy you something from the Costa down the street. I-! need to get some anyways.” Jon glanced over his shoulder at the doorway to the now unlit bullpen, trying to pretend he didn’t obviously look like he slept here.

“Yeah, no, you look like shit. No offense,” Tim added absentmindedly, pretending not to acknowledge the fact that Jon did not, in fact, drink coffee. “Did you sleep here again?”

Silence as Jon gathered the coffee-soaked towels in his hands and rose, tossing them in the bin by the door.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“I wasn’t trying to. I just nodded off. I was recording statements and lost track of time.”

“Ohh, so you heard me come in?”

“Kind of. Heard it on the tape—”

“Hello?” Martin’s voice called out as the bullpen lights flicked on. “Oh, hey Tim, Jon! You two alright?”

“Heya, Marto. Jon and I were just about to hit up the café. Want something?”

Tim got a caramel latte. Jon got a chai. Martin and Sasha got muffins, a very good story, and a lightly blushing (and smiling, though he would deny it) Archivist.

-

Tim was grateful to Jon for never asking why he had stood so long, in silence and dark, staring at his cup of coffee as if it wasn’t even there. He never asked why his shoulders had been heaving and why his eyes were as baggy as they had been. Jon did offer more often, though, to get coffee with him, in the odd mornings that they were both there absurdly early and battling their own demons. Tim always said yes.

[the-cult-of-russo]

Push and Pull (Part 20)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OC

Warnings: cursing, angst

------

Something roused Daphne from her sleep the next morning but she wasn't sure what. Her head felt like it was imploding in on itself and she winced when she opened her eyes. She was vaguely aware of a heavy weight over her middle as she lay on her side facing the wall. As her senses tried to gain their equilibrium, her ears picked up on frantic banging at her door. She heard a pained groan at the noise that was attached to the arm around her. 

"Daphne! Open the damn door!" It was Foggy and he sounded like he was having a meltdown. She slipped out from the arm, swiping some panties from her drawer and putting them on quickly. The banging was making her head hurt like a bitch and Foggy's panic had her putting on the t-shirt she’d previously stolen from Matt since it was big on her and long enough to cover her ass. She padded over to the door, grimacing at how the noise got louder. 

She swung the door open and Foggy almost knocked her off her feet as he rushed inside.

"Matt’s missing. He didn't go home last night and he didn't turn up for work. I can't get a hold of him! He- he could be bleeding out in an alley or something! We need to find him!" He panicked with wild eyes. Her brain felt like it was working through molasses and she blinked at him with bleary eyes.

"Didn't you hear me?! He could be dying!" He screeched.

"I'm fine," Foggy whipped his head over to the bed, confusion and shock on his face for a moment as his eyes landed on Matt. He was sat up now, sheets pooling around his waist as he rubbed his tired eyes. His hair was sticking up in every direction. 

"W-what? Oh! Well I guess you two made up then," Foggy quipped, sounding much calmer than moments before.

"It's too early for this shit," Daphne grumbled tiredly, pushing past him to get to the kitchen. She got started on making a pot of coffee. Her eyes seemed to be in a permanent squint at the light that felt like razors to her brain. 

"Not that I'm gonna complain about you two fixing things, but you couldn't have let me know? A phone call? Anything?" Foggy grouched at Matt who sighed in response.

"I was a little busy," Matt said dryly. Foggy nodded, cheeks a little pink as he glanced from Matt to Daphne and the tequila bottle on the coffee table before landing back on Matt again.

"Can I get some privacy?" Matt asked wryly, gesturing to his naked body. Foggy scoffed and threw the backpack he was carrying at him. Naturally, Matt caught it no problem.

"Clothes?" Matt questioned softly. Daphne glanced over at him briefly before grabbing two cups out of the cupboard. Her brain still wasn't functioning yet.

"Yeah well… I wasn't sure if I'd find you bleeding out or something and I figured it's a little less weird to take you to the hospital in normal people clothes," Foggy replied as he turned his back so he wasn't watching. He still sounded a little salty over the whole thing. 

"Well I was fine," Matt muttered, standing up and getting his clothes on. Daphne may have peeked at him. It seemed like Foggy had picked black sweats and a t-shirt for him to wear. 

"Alright, I get it. But this is… this is nice. Like old times right? You two having some crazy make up sex," Foggy started. Daphne shot him a glare as she poured out two cups of coffee. 

"I swear, if you make this weirder than it needs to be, I will stab you in the face," she threatened, narrowed eyes and a scratchy voice. Matt chuckled as he waltzed into the kitchen and Foggy looked offended.

"Wow. Note to self, Daphne is mean with a hangover," he huffed. 

"She's mean all the time," Matt quipped without missing a beat. She squinted at him, handing him a cup of coffee for him to sort out with sugar and creamer or whatever he wanted in it. Her hospitality ended at making the coffee and pouring it. He took it with a grateful nod and small smile. 

She flung three sugars into her own coffee and a generous amount of creamer.

"I don't get a coffee? Now I'm just hurt," Foggy muttered in contempt. 

"Are you hungover?" She asked with a quirked brow. 

"A little!" He pouted. She rolled her eyes but couldn't stop the smile on her face at his antics. Grabbing a cup, she poured him a cup and gave it to him. She walked over to sit on the sofa as the boys sorted their coffees out. Before long, Foggy flopped into the armchair and Matt sat next to her on the couch. 

"Sooo…" Foggy started, finger tapping on the mug he was holding.

"Foggy," Matt warned carefully, glancing in his direction. 

"What? You really expect me to not want to talk about it? It's me," Foggy snorted. 

"We had sex. It was great. Story time over," Daphne muttered, blowing on her coffee to try and cool it down faster. She really didn't want to have this conversation. It would have been weird waking up with Matt in her bed and dealing with that but of course Foggy had to come over to just sprinkle more awkwardness into the mix.

"You hear that, Matt? It was great," Foggy grinned, wiggling his eyebrows. Matt smirked, trying to hide it as he took a small sip of his coffee. 

"I can share with the group what Karen says sex with you is like if you want?" Daphne asked with a devilish grin. Foggy's eyes widened and his cheeks flushed, mouth opening and shutting. Matt laughed, glancing to his side at her.

"I'm actually curious what she says," he probed, continuing their teasing. 

"No! No, no, no! We don't need to go there! I'll shut up, I promise," Foggy squeaked. Daphne smirked triumphantly and slurped some of her coffee. Karen hadn’t even spoken to her about sex with Foggy, she hadn't even been sure it had happened until now. 

They drank their coffees with some comfortable silence. There was only a twinge of awkwardness in the air. Matt and Foggy ended up talking about a case they were currently working on as she nursed her hangover with a coffee. Once the cups were empty, she was mildly surprised when Matt stood, gathering the cups and moving over the sink to wash them. Her green eyes scanned her apartment and she pouted at herself. She’d made such a mess the night before in her drunken state and she hated it. 

"Alright, as much as I'd love to spend time with you two assholes, I need to clean this place before I rip my hair out," she muttered as she stood up. 

"You did make quite a mess," Foggy grinned teasingly. She flipped him off and leaned against the kitchen counter as he stood. Matt used the backpack to store his suit and mask, only just making it fit. She was hopeful that they'd leave without incident but she almost forgot Foggy was Foggy. 

"You know what, we should go on another double date. Karen would love it," Foggy mused as he and Matt walked to the door. She blinked at him unimpressed as Matt thwacked him across the head.

"Stop," Matt huffed, shoving him closer to the door. Foggy grumbled under his breath as he opened it. 

"I'm not sure I wanna be Captain of this ship anymore if you both bully me like this," he grouched.

"Out!" She said firmly, pointing to the door. Foggy smirked, holding his hands up in surrender as he slipped out the door. Matt glanced her way as she padded over. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but settled on just nodding. She was grateful. She wasn't sure what he would have said. 

She watched as Matt took Foggy's arm in case anyone saw him and she shut the door as they walked down the hall. Breathing a sigh of relief, she set to work cleaning up the place. A tidy apartment and a few cups of coffee later, she found herself soaking in the bath and relaxing. She didn't have anything to do that day so she took the time for some TLC. She couldn't do anything with the Grimes case until the ball later that week and there was no new news on the Italians from Brett. There wasn't even any progress with the Keiran situation because his mouth was still wired shut and he wasn't in great condition. It was a rare moment of calm for her.

As she relaxed in the tub, her hangover started to wane and she found her thoughts straying to the night before no matter how hard she tried to fight it. It had been wildly different to her previous times with the vigilante. Usually they skipped foreplay, just getting right to the rough and dirty stuff and that was that. They'd got what they wanted. But the night before was a whole world away from that with all the intimate touching and how they took their time. She couldn't remember everything but she kept getting bits and pieces of it as it clicked together like a jigsaw puzzle. She remembered how excited she was to see him, how she told him she'd missed him. She remembered how her stomach fluttered when he used his fingers to ‘see’ her face properly. She remembered how it was the best sex she'd ever had. But it was all so intimate. She hated herself for it. Never had she been that way with someone before but she'd been drunk and so had he. She’d let her guard down fully with him. She was annoyed at herself for not letting him leave when she should have. 

She didn't so much regret it, since there was no way she could regret the way he made her body feel. But she felt weird about the vulnerability of it all. How it made her feel. She was just glad he didn't make a big deal out of it like last time. She’d told herself she wouldn't fuck him again, no matter how good it was, because it seemed to make things messier. But her plan had failed and now she just had to hope they would move past it. Yet she still found her mind drifting to the way he touched her, like she was made of gold, and it made her stomach feel weird. 

---

The week seemed to fly by and although Foggy came to see her most days with coffee and food, she hadn't seen or heard from Matt. She wasn't sure how she felt about it. It was only two days away from the ball now and Mrs Grimes had called her to tell her that she was on the guest list. She also sounded very disappointed she didn't have a plus one but thankfully didn't press it. Now she knew the plan was definitely on, she needed to go and get a dress. That's what led her to walking to the firm. She needed Karen. Karen knew about the ball and she needed a woman's eye. Foggy had slipped up once when he came to see her and told her he'd told Karen about the plan. After getting an earful from Daphne, he replied with how she specifically said not to tell Matt, which he hadn't, so he didn't do anything wrong. She couldn't argue with that logic and she didn't really blame him for telling her. It made it easier for her anyway since now she needed Karen's help to pick a dress. 

She hadn't called her to ask, she figured she'd just go find her. She was dreading going shopping, it wasn't something she ever enjoyed. And this was in an upper-class part of New York and she knew she didn't belong there. When she got to the firm, she could hear raised voices coming from inside. She lingered at the closed door, her curiosity burning and stopping her from making herself known. 

"We need to tell her, Matt!" Foggy yelled. She didn't think she'd ever heard Foggy be genuinely angry before and she raised her brows a little.

"No! Telling her is only going to put a target on her back!" Matt retorted hotly.

"She has a target on her back either way, and I can’t keep lying to her! She's my girlfriend now, Matt. It's not fair!" 

"It's not your secret to tell!" 

"No, just one you're forcing me to keep!"

It was painful listening to them argue if she was honest. Like being a little kid and hearing your mom and dad fighting about getting a divorce. She didn't like it. She opened the door and the pair turned to her in surprise from where they stood in the waiting area of the firm. She guessed Matt hadn't known she was there in the heat of the moment.

"Pro tip, you won't need to worry about it if you keep yelling like that. I could hear everything and it could have been just as easily Karen at the door," she said blandly, giving them a stern look like she was telling off children. 

She closed the door behind her and walked into the room with a sigh.

"Tell him, Daphne. He needs to tell Karen the truth," Foggy pleaded.

"I think Daphne would agree with me on this," Matt bit out.

"Hey! Whoa! I'm not getting in the middle of this," she muttered with her hands raised. They started arguing again and she couldn't even make out what was being said in all the noise. 

"Shut up!" She bellowed. Deathly silence took over the room as they both looked her way.

"Sit the fuck down. Both of you," she ordered hotly. She expected them to argue as they went back to glaring at each other for a moment, or as much of a glare a blind man could give, but then they reluctantly sat down. 

She stomped over to the desk, turning around and perching herself on the edge of it. 

"What exactly do you think will happen when Karen finds out the truth, Foggy? You think she's just gonna be like 'okay' and move on? She's gonna be pissed. She's not gonna see it as you guys trying to keep her safe. All she's gonna feel is the betrayal of the lies. There's a big chance she won't talk to you both for a while. She believes in Daredevil, she'll come around once it wears off. But that initial sting is gonna cause some shit, so I hope you're ready for that," she explained seriously. He looked torn up and glanced at his hands in his lap at her words. 

She turned to Matt then who was sitting with his mouth set in a grim line.

"I get why you kept it from her, and eventually she will too. But the longer you keep this from her the worse it'll be. I know it's not something to take lightly. Once you tell her, you can't go back. But there's gonna be a line you cross where she won't be so understanding about lying if you keep it from her for too long. And it would be better if she hears it from you instead of finding it out some other way," she muttered.

"That didn't help at all. You're saying if we tell her she'll be pissed but that we should tell her?" Foggy frowned. 

"I'm saying you both need to grow up and deal with this like adults. Talk it out and work a compromise. Karen deserves to know the truth but you need to do it right and make sure Matt's ready for it," she glared.

"Matt's never gonna be ready for it! I'm not just gonna sit here and keep this secret, I didn't sign up for this! And I'm not gonna sit here and take advice from an emotional mess like you!" Foggy yelled at her. She felt a punch to the gut at his words, genuinely shocked by his hostility towards her.

"Hey! Don't talk to her like that," Matt warned, his jaw tense.

"Oh right. I forgot it's only okay if you do it," Foggy sneered cruelly at him. Matt stood up looking ready to take a swing at him. Daphne felt her anger go from simmering to boiling and she slipped off the desk and stepped closer to Foggy. 

"You know what, Foggy? Fuck you. I get you wanna tell her, that you don't like lying, but it's not black and white here. And you did sign up for this. You told me about what happened when you found out the truth yourself. You chose to come back, to be the best friend again. You chose to stick around, so you don't get to sit there and throw it back in his face when you feel like it! You don't forgive someone just to dangle it over their head later! That’s called being a shitty fucking friend! You're either in or you're out with this, there is no in between! So maybe you should pick a damn side and get your head out of your ass instead of blaming Matt when you chose to be here!" She roared. Foggy looked genuinely taken aback by her ferocity but she didn't stick around to hear him be an asshole.

She pushed passed him roughly, storming out and slamming the door behind her so hard she heard it rattle. She was fuming as she stalked down the street. She wasn't exactly Matt's biggest fan and she loved Foggy, she really did. But she wasn't going to sugar coat shit with him when he was playing victim. Foggy had decided to stick around and it rubbed her the wrong way how he was acting with this. Like he couldn't grasp how much of a life changing big deal it was for his best friend. She told him how it was and it was up to him to decide what to do with her words. She honestly expected better from her friend. He’d really hurt her with his words and she wouldn't have expected that from him of all people. It was uncalled for.

After wandering the streets to calm down, she got out her phone to call Karen. She hadn't been around and she hadn't gotten the chance to ask where to find her. And as awkward as it might be after the argument she'd just had, she still liked Karen and needed her help. Mrs Grimes had told her the dresses might need some alterations so she didn't have time to waste since the ball was two days away. After a few rings, she picked up.

"Daphne, hey!" It sounded like she smiled down the phone.

"Hey! Are you busy?" She asked, shaking the shitshow she'd just been involved in away from her. She didn't have time for their drama.

"I was just dropping something off at the Bulletin and then heading back to the firm," she explained.

"Could I steal you for a bit? I need help with the whole ball gown debacle and I could really use your advice," she asked hesitantly. 

"Sure! It sounds like fun. I'm almost done here if you wanna meet me?" It didn't sound like fun but she didn't correct her.

"Alright, I'll be there soon," she hung up after and made her way to the Bulletin. 

Before long, the pair were standing outside of La Grande Vie and Daphne was filled with dread. The people milling around inside the store were all well dressed and although Karen somewhat blended in with her formal wear, Daphne stuck out like a sore thumb in her boots, jeans, plain tee and hoodie. Her purple hair in a messy high pony. She blinked up at the sign for a moment, wondering if it was too late to just tuck tail and run.

"Fuck. I feel like I'm in Pretty Woman or something," she grumbled miserably.

"Something you're not telling me?" Karen smirked. Daphne snorted and shook her head, biting back a whine as Karen grabbed her hand and all but dragged her in the store. 

An older man in a silk, pink patterned shirt came up to greet them with a warm smile.

"Hello, welcome to La Grande Vie, my name is Louis. How can we help today?" He asked with a French accent. He seemed genuinely nice but Daphne didn't miss the curious glances he kept sending her way.

"Uh… Mrs Grimes sent me… for the ball gown?" She phrased it like a question, like she was unsure if she should even be here. His eyes lit up as he clapped, looking overjoyed.

"Of course! Ms Weaver, welcome, welcome! And who is your lovely friend?" He asked with a smile, looking at Karen who blushed slightly.

"I'm Karen. Moral support," she smiled shyly. The man laughed a little, no doubt in understanding. It didn't take a genius to figure out this was Daphne's first rodeo.

"Please follow me, we will select some dresses we think suitable, but you will get to decide which you like most," he said as he ushered them to the back of the store. There were some thick black curtains and he walked through them, the girls in tow, to reveal some kind of private back area. There were plush looking seats and a changing area behind another curtain. It was all so fancy. Louis gestured for Karen to sit which she did but then he stood in front of Daphne, seemingly examining her from head to toe. She felt her cheeks flame red at the scrutiny and Karen shot her a wry smirk.

"I have some dresses in mind to go with your beautiful complexion and fun hair. You are a wild one, yes?" He asked with a knowing grin. Daphne snorted, lowering her head.

"She most definitely is," Karen piped up amused. Louis rushed off acting as if Christmas had come early for him. Daphne moved to sit and wait with Karen. Just as she was about to remark on how out of place she felt, a beautiful woman walked over with a tray, champagne flutes resting atop of it. 

"Drink, ladies?" She asked with a polite smile. 

"Thank you," Karen said and the pair took one each. Daphne's was gone in seconds. 

"Okay! Let's begin!" Louis beamed as he walked back in, clapping his hands. There were a few girls, all as equally beautiful as the last, following him with dresses. She felt like a troll next to them. The ladies ushered her in the very roomy changing area, closing the curtain behind them.

"Are you ready for a fashion show, Ms Karen?" She heard Louis ask from the other side of the curtain.

"I am," Karen giggled in response. Her friend was having far too much fun with this.

Daphne wasn't sure what she hated more. Shopping in general or dresses. But by the time the girls were getting her into her 6th dress, she was ready to give up. All of the dresses had been beautiful but she was under no illusion that any would suit her or that she'd like them. But she didn't have to like them, they just had to be lavish enough for her to blend in at the fancy ass ball. But Karen and Louis seemed to have other ideas and had no issues with telling her no when they didn't think one hit the mark. 

One of the girls zipped the dress up for her and she glanced at herself in the mirror. This one she liked the most. It was simple yet at the same time ridiculously pretty. It was a rich black colour, a velvety texture that was soft to touch. It had small off the shoulder sleeves with a v cut out the middle to create a harsh, deep sweetheart neckline. It clung to her body tightly, dipping into her small waist before flaring out dramatically in princess-y style. It was hard to picture the full look though with her hair and make-up done. 

The girls helped her into the simple black wedges. She'd been firm on the fact she couldn't walk in normal heels and Louis had picked these for her. The curtain was pulled back in the same dramatic flourish as the last billion times, but instead of Karen and Louis giving her a scrutinising gaze, Karen looked pleasantly shocked, covering her mouth and Louis stood up beaming.

"This is it! This is the dress, is it not?" He glanced at Karen to back him up and she nodded.

"Wow… Daphne, this is just… this is the dress," she murmured in awe. Daphne blushed, shifting on her feet. This day had been weird from start to finish and it wasn't even over yet. It felt weird to be looked at so closely by anyone and the spotlight was firmly on her. 

"Alright. I'll take this one then," she smiled with a shrug. She'd been waiting to say that with all of them but she did feel a pang of reassurance at their reactions this time around. 

Louis ended up taking measurements from her so he could alter anything needed and said the dress and shoes would be sent to her apartment the next day. After Louis' dramatic but endearing goodbyes, the pair finally left the store and Daphne could finally breathe. 

"Glad that's over," she snorted, the pair walking arm in arm. They'd been in there so long that it had started to go dark. 

"It wasn't so bad," Karen smiled at her.

"Easy for you to say. You were spectating," she muttered with a playful glare. 

"The dress really is something though. You'll be the belle of the ball," she teased, getting an eye roll from Daphne. 

They both said their goodbyes with Karen saying she would come over the next day to do her hair for her and help her get ready. Daphne was grateful for the support. They ended up getting in separate cabs to head in their different directions. Daphne's was home. Today had really taken it out of her and she needed to rest up for the impending doom of the ball. Once again, after sleeping with Matt, her nightmares had gone. She knew they'd turn up again eventually but she was enjoying actually being able to sleep while it lasted. Once home, she got ready for bed and snuggled under her blankets with a sigh.

She kept thinking of the fight with Foggy and Matt and it made her feel sad. She hated that they were fighting, it was so weird. They were best friends, Nelson and Murdock. They shouldn't be acting this way with each other. And she couldn't deny that she was hurt with how Foggy acted with her. She said she didn't want to get involved but they'd dragged her into it anyway. All she did was tell the truth and he'd been an asshole to her. Something she expected from his counterpart, not him. Matt hadn't snapped at her, he'd even got mad at Foggy when he was a dick to her. They seemed to have swapped roles and she didn't like it. She had no idea what Foggy would choose to do and it made her nervous for Matt. No one really knew just what the consequences would be of telling Karen and it was a big deal. She didn't know what would happen to their friendship if Foggy went through with it or if he'd even stick around anymore. 

She frowned as she lay there. There was a reason why she didn't make friends or connections and this was it. She felt like there was always some drama or something to stress about in her personal life. Yet she couldn't remember what it was like when she was alone and she was sure she wouldn't want to go back. That's why she was so worried. Depending on what Foggy chose to do, her life would become very different and she'd only just gotten used to it how it was now. She fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion with her mind spinning from uncertainty. 

[drunklander]

Drunj!Der Yells About Outlander

Thoughts on Ep. 511

Ok so this episode is like the perfect embodiment of my love/hate relationship with the books. And the show, but since the author wrote it, the books too, and her writing/plotting in general. I hated the other episode she wrote so my expectations going into this were *rull* low.

This episode was like a series of character-driven vignettes, which is what I like most about her writing (and why I bother even sticking around): random scenes here and there that I really enjoy as standalone bits. But, in true Outlander fashion, it also like ticked a lot of the boxes for stuff plot-wise that I can’t stand. Namely, yet more violence against multiple women, Marsali and Fergus getting shortchanged, Lord John crossing just over the creepy line for a sec with Jamie and the situation with Ulysses’ legal status. It didn’t check the rape box, but we may have to revisit that next week. I sure as fuck hope we don’t have to, but seeing as this show never met a rape it didn’t think was ToTaLlY nEcEsSaRy to include... *preemptive sigh*

Show-wise this very much felt like a penultimate episode and in that respect it accomplished what it was supposed to. In the overall arc of the season though, much like when considering the whole book series, a few solid standalone scenes here and there do not equal a good whole. To be in this fandom is to be an expert in eating around the moldy parts of the bread to get a few nibbles of good stuff.

Anywho, SCIENCE!JIZZ 5EVA!

Fuck yeah PB&J, and Claire is forgiven for not mastering fluff yet. But fluffernutters are also a staple in any growing kid’s diet.

Poor burned girl. It’s not her fault she vaguely resembles a walker so I spent the whole time thinking about TWD.

Omfg I got like PTSD flashbacks when I saw that dress in the title card. KILL THAT DRESS WITH FIRE!

There may not be fluffernutters, but Bree and Claire fluff and Young Ian and Jemmy fluff are good substitutes.

This kid is adorbs tho.

They’ve been really blasé about mentioning time travel in front of folks this season. First Marsali and now Young Ian. The latter will be remedied, but I’m still lowkey annoyed that Fergus and Marsali aren’t brought into the circle of trust... Esp. when there was a perfect opportunity for it later on.

I cannot with men, tbh. Seeking justice for a daughter who’s been “dishonored” by killing the dude is like the most overused trope of toxic masculinity ever. And now we’re supposed to be all like oh look how relatable the Brown guy is! Because our tropey men wanted to kill a dude like that last week! Hard pass. Also, fucking his kid wasn’t raped, she loves a guy who happens to be married, but everything was super consensual. Sooo like double gross points for you, dude.

And yes, I know it’s ThE pAsT, but I am not in the past, I am in the present, and the show is airing in the present, so thinking this sort of behavior is gross is totes ok. So the fucked up squad of randos who always jump into my notes about how they like “their men to be men” can just shove it, ok? Ok.

They’re like really not subtle with the foreshadowing this episode are they. But then again, when has subtlety ever been a thing on this show. That’s a nice still you got there, shame if anything were to happen to it...

I’m really digging the decor in this living room.

Oh hey! They finally decided to stop pretending like Young Ian was dumb and didn’t notice literally *gestures* everything about Claire.

I’m still salty they never told Jenny and Ian in S3 tbh.

Shockingly, considering who wrote it, so much of this episode is directly from the books. So I’m sure the Cult of Herself folks will be obsessed. And like yeah, some of the stuff in this episode is some of the bits I really like from the books as individual little scenes. However! I know some in the cult will use this as a reason why the show should StAy TrUe To ThE bOoKs more. And please, for the love of fuck, fight that instinct. Parts of this episode aren’t good “because they’re from the book,” they’re good because they’re emotional moments between characters, which is where both the books and the show are strongest. “Sticking with the book” on everything would make an already not great show even worse. I mean, the show ain’t great, but thank fuck they’ve streamlined the book stuff as much as they have.

Yes, I did notice the Pamela easter egg from the book. No, I’m not one who gets excited about shit like that.

Aaand here we get the problematic af bit about Ulysses and his legal status. In the book, he was offered freedom and turned it down to stay with Jocasta. Which is twelve kinds of fucked up. Here, he *is* a free man and he chooses to stay and cosplay an enslaved person so he can chill with Jocasta? FUCK THAT NOISE. That is some “benevolent slave owner” bullshit. They don’t get overt with the Ulysses and Jocasta are banging stuff from the book, which is also epically fucked up considering the power dynamic and how a fuckton of men enslaved their own fucking kids because they’d raped the mothers and children take the status of the mother. I’m glad they didn’t come right out and say that. But it’s like lowkey implied and even if it’s not supposed to be taken as canon, having a Black man be given the option to get the fuck out of there and choose to stay with someone who enslaves other Black people is like some dangerous white fanfic nonsense.

Also, thinking about the slave/master relationship dynamic today really makes me wish I saw Jeremy O. Harris’ play while it was running...

Oh yay, Bree and Roger are actually leaving. Much like the Bonnet shit, credit where credit’s due, I’m glad they’re not dragging the will they/won’t they go out for another season.

Don’t sound so butthurt that you didn’t get to murder a guy, Jamie.

Poor Young Ian. Buddy needs a hug. And more screentime for his story. Like, do we really need something else traumatic to happen to Claire when we could explore family dynamics instead? This time with Young Ian and his wife and their Mohawk family?

THERE ARE SO MANY OTHER WAYS TO HAVE DRAMA AND CONFLICT THAT CAN TAKE UP THE RUNNING TIME OF A SEASON THAT DON’T INVOLVE CONSTANTLY PUTTING THE WOMEN IN PHYSICAL DANGER.

Lol at the thought of LJG “working the land.” Like, buddy, have you seen yourself?

“No doubt there a great many things I shall miss about being here.” Don’t make it weird bro.

Yes, I know he’s like gonna miss their friendship and stuff. But he’s always been just a smidge too intense about it. And by a smidge I mean the gay guy openly in love with his straight best friend a gross trope and I don’t like it.

Ok so if we’re following the “rules” of the show that the production used to recite ad nauseam to justify why Jamie and Claire barely seemed to even like each other for a few seasons (”they’re married, we don’t need to see them fuck!” “we already know they love each other, it’s a given!”), this sex scene shouldn’t exist. Because it’s really not essential to the plot. Which just proves the “rules” are and always were bullshit excuses. And the author/writer of this episode def spouted that bullshit too, so she can also shove it.

Because this scene *should* exist and those “rules” *were* complete crap. Because Jamie and Claire are very sexual/physical people and, especially when they’re going through things, use sex to center themselves where they are and in their relationship. Bree and Roger are leaving. Jem’s leaving. They’re sad about that. But they’re also happy that they made a family and got to be together as a family and are glad to have had that chance. (And, they just like to fuck.) So of course this is a good character moment. This is the kind of shit we should be seeing instead of just a constant barrage of plot and violence. And the crew can fuck all they off with their not at all convincing talking points about “rules.”

Also this is a much better use of sex than them constantly having them fuck after a fight instead of actually working through the issue between them.

Also, fuck yeah, get it gurrrl.

SCIENCE!JIZZ! (I’m gonna need a gif of Claire’s face when Jamie’s figuring it out because that’s gonna be in heavy reaction rotation.

I just love Claire fuck yeah science Beauchamp.

It’s also another scene that does nothing to advance the plot, but is a nice respite from the constant trauma. The show has yet to find a balance between the two, which is annoying af because they’ve had five seasons to figure it out. So like whenever there is fluff, folks pounce on it like starving animals. Which some in the crew (and some fans) like to point out like “see, you all like everything now!” Or “look, why are you whining so much, we gave you this!” Or “wow you hate the show but now you like this part? Hypocrite.”

But like, no, that’s not what it means. Not giving someone water for days and then throwing them a small canteen doesn’t mean everything is hunky dory. It’s still super fucked up. So no, enjoying the fact that there are a few fluffy scenes in an episode doesn’t mean the show is good. If they made more of an effort to center the characters and spread the fluff around a bit more instead of waiting until there was like trauma fatigue and throwing in a fluffy life raft, the show as a whole would be stronger.

</rant>

Ok it’s super fucked up they hadn’t told Bree about Willie yet, but I’m glad Jamie is the one who tells her.

“And it wasn’t a matter of love between us, but it was her choice, and that’s all I’ll say about it.” BECAUSE SHE RAPED HIM. COERCION IS NOT CONSENT AND ALL THE PEOPLE WHO ARE STILL TALKING ABOUT HOW “HOT” THAT SCENE WAS ARE FUCKING DISGUSTING AND THE PRODUCTION IS DISGUSTING FOR SHOOTING A FUCKING RAPE IN THE MANNER THEY DID. AND ALSO FUCK THEM FOR HAVING IT BE A RAPE IN THE FIRST PLACE WHEN IT COULD HAVE SO FUCKING EASILY BEEN CONSENSUAL.

This show is so fucking not good.

This scene with Jamie and Brianna is super nice, but like, we saw nothing of them building their relationship. He didn’t even fucking hug her after Murtagh died. The scene loses so much of what it could have had because they never did the legwork to show us what they mean to each other.

It’s the same old shit they pulled with Claire and Jamie. “Oh they’re together and endgame so we don’t actually need to show you them building and working on their relationship that much. Because you know they’re together so just go with it.” Like no? Fuck you? That’s not how this works?

FERGUS AND MARSALI DESERVE BETTER!

Of course Marsali’s preggo again. Why the fuck should she do anything but spit out babies. Also, THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN A PERFECT TIME TO HAVE THE FRASER KIDS TALK ABOUT TIME TRAVEL.

And Bree’s become a sister to Marsali? We saw one fucking scene of them together. See above rant. Fucking show us them becoming sisters. Sorry to interrupt your constant stream of violence and trauma, but fucking actually SHOWING characters building relationships instead of TELLING us they did the thing is how this is fucking supposed to work.

I’m rull pissed we never got quality Fraser kid bonding, y’all.

And ditto with this scene with Lizzie. We saw more of Bree and Lizzie than Bree and Marsali, but like we never really saw them becoming friendly post Bree’s rape and Rogergate.

All the goodbyes are like making me feel inch deep feelings because they’re rooted in nothing we’ve actually seen. And I’m not a Bad Fan or dumb for not filling in the feelings myself. I’m the viewer. It’s not my job to fill in the show’s gaps. It’s the show’s job not to have emotional gaps.

Oh hey! Another shitty man who hurts his wife and another woman trapped in a physically abusive relationship who thinks the abuse is her fault! On Outlander? Who’da thunk they’d have something like this?!

I’m so tired, y’all. So. Fucking. Tired.

I HOPE YOUNG IAN FINDS HAPPINESS TOO, ROGER.

Ok but for real, every time Lord John talks about how Willie and Bree are like Jamie it has that gross tinge to it. Like I know he’s not meaning it like a creeper, but they leaned so fucking hard into him being so into and not over Jamie that the layer of grossness is always there.

Also like, grannie and grandda, we got like one scene of Claire and Jamie playing with Jem. WE COULD HAVE FELT SO MANY MORE FEELINGS ABOUT THEM BEING SEPARATED IF ONLY THEY HAD TAKEN THE TIME TO BUILD THE RELATIONSHIPS ON SCREEN.

Claire making everyone PB&Js is fucking adorable and I love her.

Old timey forks will never not be fucking weird looking.

“And now it’s just you and me again.” Uh, Fergus, Marsali and Young Ian might be a tad offended by that sentiment, Clairebear.

Ok but like do they really think a rope is gonna hold up to fucking magic time travel rocks? It’s gotta just be like a mental security blanket thing, right? Because if not, loooooooooool.

Ok but the really just let their kiddo run off like that in the middle of the magic time travel rock circle? Dumbasses.

Ok but like what’s the betting they ended up in like a RenFest type thing and think they haven’t traveled but they have and it’s like lol look at them fitting in with their old timey clothes vs. skipping them going back to the future and doing the going adventuring around the even past-er past part but with them all together instead of Roger and Buck?

I’m just hoping it’s something completely different than the books because I have zero interest in Bree and Roger in the 20th century and hate the Roger and Buck nonsense with a fiery passion.

Erm, that’s a little close to the house to build a privy, my dudes.

Is the setting a guy’s dislocated shoulder thing supposed to be a cute callback? Because like hey wink wink, first she was kidnapped and then set a shoulder and now she’s setting a shoulder and then getting kidnapped is kind of a fucked up “joke.”

But how about we get more of Nurse!Marsali and less of Marsali just being constantly preggo.

“Sort of like the opposite of what you do when ya joint a hog.” I JUST LOVE NURSE!MARSALI A LOT OK.

Aaand now that we’re all good and docile little fans who have been placated with some fluff and Fraser fucking as a treat, we can go back to the regularly scheduled violence against women. Because we literally just had a violent abduction last week. So clearly it’s time for another.

Everything in this story has been done before...

I swear to fuck, if they do the thing I think they’re gonna do next week, I hope they get rightfully dragged by fucking everyone.

And if by some fucking miracle of Caitriona putting her foot down they don’t do the thing next week, they get zero brownie points. You don’t get rewarded for doing what you should have done the whole time.

And of course the closing is Jamie lighting Flaming Dildo 2.0. His men swore oaths to him, not any government or crown, and protecting his family has always been the top thing for Jamie. So good choice there with saving Claire being the reason he calls up the men.

[shaekingshitup]

unintended part three

A/N: I forgot I wrote this but @twistedcharismaaa​ reminded me that I did. I didn’t have the wonderful @glittermakesmesmile​ sooo bare with me if you be seein mistakes. Please lmk what you think! I’m lowkey tipsy sooo I may have to come back and re-edit this later lol. I lowkey lost my taglist. Imma find it and make a new one soon. So hakuna matata. Also, the quality of some of these photos are trash but we gone live. It’s better than Teddy’s wifi. So, we good. 

WC: about 3994 (Sorry C!)

Warnings: mmm like maybe PG smut? Like for real I chickened out on that. So no worries boo. 

Jayden’s OOTD: 

Jayden was shocked that she had held onto her composure thus far. The exchanges that she’d had with Trevor had been spicy from jump. Neither had sent any nudes, but the innuendos and open ended interpretations on what would happen the next time they were in the same room left her mind occupied every night since she’d met him three weeks ago. 

This was her second trip around his block trying to find a parking spot. 

“Oo oo ooo!” She said throwing her car in reverse and slowly retreating from the stop sign. The owner of the parked Kia Soul that had just beeped was going to be getting all of the good karma today. She patiently sat in her car as the woman who vaguely resembled Gwen Stefani started her ignition and departed. Jayden parallel parked her Honda Civic SI 2018 coupe perfectly into the spot. She flipped the visor down to do a final check of her beat before she grabbed her handbag and the drink tray from her passenger seat. She double checked the address on her phone and approached the door. 

Ringing the doorbell she did her best to quell any nerves that she felt. She instead allowed her mind to swim with thoughts on how good this man was going to look opening up this door. She could see movement through his front window and jutted her hip out a little further so that the slit in her skirt accentuated her leg a little more. 

Trevor opened the door with a smile that held her full attention. “Hey J” he greeted. She cheesed back at him unable to cease the wrinkles that this man would be destined to leave her with. As her eyes trailed down his frame she took note of his pink distressed sweater, the grey joggers and the black socks which adorned his feet and completed his outfit. Trevor watched her watch him and observed the question mark which took over her disposition. She didn’t ask any questions outright but it was plain on her face. 

“Hey,” she gave back with a deflated smile. Trevor opened the door wider for her to come in. They stood in his entrance and Trevor took the drink tray from her as Jayden removed her shoes and placed them on the small rack that was next to his front door. 

“This is really convenient,” she noted as she allowed her soles to meet the cool tile of his floor. 

“Yeah, this way I don’t have to worry about too much people bringing outside inside my home. Come on,” he said with a tilt of his head to indicate the direction they were headed. Trevor brought her into his kitchen which was adjacent to his living room. He placed the drink tray  containing his coffee and her water cup on the counter. 

“Thank you for this by the way,” he said, grabbing his coffee and taking a sip. He had never felt awkward in his own home before. But I suppose there’s a first for everything. He had been feelin this woman since day one. Now three weeks later here she was looking devourable in his kitchen and he didn’t know what to do with himself. 

“Well one of us had to keep up our end of the bargain,” Jayden quipped. She replaced her deadpan expression because she wasn’t trying to start their encounter off on the wrong foot. “What’s this?” she asked gesturing to the large tupperware bowl filled with water and some meat and the assortment of vegetables and seasonings he had on his countertop. 

Trevor cocked his head at her. “These are the ingredients we’re going to need for our dinner tonight.” He leaned in a little closer to her. He was guzzling that coffee down and Jayden was wishing that his lips would be attached to her instead.   “But, uh, what do you mean I didn’t keep up my end of the bargain?” Jayden raised her eyes from his mouth to stare at him as she tried to determine if he genuinely wasn’t certain what she was referring to or if he was just playing dumb to mess with her. She blinked slowly and gave a small chuckle deciding that it was the former of the two. 

“The day we met. You looked me dead in the eye and said that because you’re a nudist, you would be answering the door with a big cup of joe and nothing else. Obviously because we decided that I was going to be the one to bring the coffee, I figured you’d make a few adjustments. This,” she Vanna Whited to his sweater and joggers, “ was not what I had in mind,”. She reached for the water cup and attempted to quench one of her thirsts .  

Trevor was caught off guard. But once his mind had processed what she’d said he tried and failed to stifle the laughter that was dominating his body. “Girl, you are somethin.” He wiped some water from his eyes, placed his cup on the counter and crossed his arms at his chest. Leaning back against the sink he asked, “So, you’re upset because I have on too many layers? I can be naked in less than thirty seconds if that’s what you want Jay. Just say the word.” There was no question. The thought was intriguing to Trevor but she needed to clarify. 

“I’m not that thirsty.” Jayden said punctuating her statement with another sip from her water cup only to find that it was already empty. Trevor’s left eyebrow shot up in a manner that catechized her without speaking. She powered forward as if she hadn’t seen that, “I’m just trying to see if you’re a man of your word Jackson,”. Before the period had even been placed at the end of her sentence, the sweater was up and over his head. The joggers were next to go. Trevor watched her.  He’d actually made her speechless. He closed the distance before them and continued on with his cheeky behavior. 

“Is this better Miss Pierce?” He asked in a low voice as he towered over her, “Do I need to ditch the socks and the boxers next? It’s your call,”

Jayden couldn't even feign that she was unbothered. His appearance. The timbre of his voice. His proximity.They were causing her mind to cloud.  She tried to give herself a little room to breath but she was pinned by the kitchen counter. There was nowhere to go but forward. So, she advanced.  Staring up into his eyes, daring Trevor to make the next move.

The additional temptation wasn’t what Trevor was looking for. He stared back into her eyes again speaking without forming words. 

“Show me you want this. ” his eyes called. Jayden licked her lips and fixed them into a smirk.

“I want you.” 

It was game on. 

Trevor grabbed her by the waist and placed her atop his kitchen counter. He left his left hand on her exposed thigh and used his right to hold her chin in place as he maintained their connection. He was aware of her everywhere and they hadn’t even done anything yet. The rise and fall of her chest. The wanting in her eyes. The way she fell into a submissive role at his first display of dominance. He was savoring this moment because he knew that whatever happened after this had the potential to be his downfall or his triumph. Hell, when it came to Jayden the possibility of both was also on the table. Quite literally. Whatever the outcome, he was ready to eat. 

Trevor dove in without abandon. His right hand fell to her neck as he tasted her lips for the first time. She gasped, whether for additional breath or out of shock Trevor wasn’t sure but he used it. His tongue explored her mouth and she took this opportunity to spar back with him. Sucking his tongue and deepening the kiss she moaned. Jayden bit his bottom lip and moved to bring her left hand to grip the hand he held around her neck. She swiped something on the counter on the way up to reaching him. She jumped and bit him a little harder than she’d intended. 

“Fuck!” Trevor hollered. He laughed into their broken kiss but didn’t break his distance to her. Their foreheads touched as they panted into one another’s space. 

“Maybe we should..” Jayden trailed off.

“Yeah. Uh, yeah. Maybe we should wait until after dinner’s ready” he picked up glancing down to the floor to see the chili powder, salt and paprika bottles that had fallen. Thankfully none of them had opened up. 

Jayden reached out to caress his cheek and guide his attention back to her. “Dinner ain’t goin nowhere. But, we can move this party from the counter to the couch,” she offered. Trevor didn’t need to be told twice. He scooped her up causing her to giggle and wrap her legs around his waist. When he sat down on the couch she adjusted herself to straddle him. 

“It’s not fair that I’m over here in my drawers and you got all of this fabric between us.” he pouted.  Jayden laughed rolling her eyes. “Are you gonna be a baby or are you gonna do something about it Jackson?” she challenged, “matter of fact, how is it that you’re not listening to any music right now?” 

“Well, damn girl. I was waiting for you to come over so that I could be a gentleman and let you pick. But, we can forget that at this point. Hey Alexa, play “Piercing my Thoughts” playlist.”

The opening to one of Jayden’s favorite 70s songs flooded his living room. Surround sound. Jayden could not keep the smile off her face as she sat up in his lap and created a little more friction between the two of them.

“Bold. You are bold sir,” she laughed as she leaned her head down to kiss this man beneath her while Al Green serenaded their adventure. 

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

Do you want to make it better?

Do you want to stay together?

If you do

Then let's please

Make some new

Memories

Jayden woke up..satiated. She continued to lay there until she gathered her thoughts. Anderson Paak and Smokey Robinson were asking her questions. She was no longer in her skirt but now a large Black Plaid Ombre Shirt that could stand to have a lot more buttons used. She sat up to fix this and searched for her handbag. Spotting it in one of the kitchen chairs, she walked over opening the bag to grab the pair of underwear she hadn’t worn when she’d shown up. Trevor may be comfortable with the nudist thing but she wasn’t at that level yet. 

But you at the level to fuck within the first fifteen minutes, Jayde? Asked her subconscious. Jayden retreated from the kitchen in search of the bathroom. She probably should have made this man give her a full tour of his place before she decided to climb him. But, hey. She was here now. She walked to the right of the kitchen already knowing that the living room was to the left. She came upon the dining room and briefly admired his decor.

This man has good taste. And not just in women. 

The backyard was just off of this room and when she walked over the sliding door and took a glance outside, she saw a pool, a lounging area with a tv and a fire pit  and.. a dog house. It looked empty. 

“I haven’t seen any dogs” she pondered aloud. 

“That’s because he’s at the groomers.” answered her from directly behind where she stood and Jayden damn near jumped out of her skin . Trevor, walked up behind her snaking an arm around his flannel that was draping across her body. He watched his backyard with his chin resting on her head. “How was your nap?” he asked. 

“Good. Thanks for the shirt by the way. How long was I out?” 

“Barely 20 minutes. You should have drank some coffee. I guess you were tired,” she didn’t need to look at him. She could hear the pride and the smile in his voice. Jayden exhaled loudly to cover up her smile and the fact that she was heavily inhaling his scent.

“You stay with the jokes,” 

“You stay feelin it too.” he countered and licked a long strip on her cheek. 

“OH MY GAWD! Where’s your restroom anyway?” she feened an eye roll. She was trying not to get too caught up over the fact that she was standing in this man’s shirt with nothing else on. 

“There’s one right off of the front door.” She turned around fully facing him, in all of his nude glory. She quickly looked away and made a beeline for the restroom.

When she was done freshening up, she found him in the living room again writing in a notepad as a Dan + Shay ballad caused him to drum his left hand to the rhythm of the song. 

“Tequila?” she mused? “This has been piercing your thoughts?” she inquired. 

“Nah. That playlist is still a work in progress. I’m still tryna figure out some stuff. You ready for the rest of the tour? I just set the oven to pre-heat. 

“Sure. But we’re not gone glance over the fact that you have a whole playlist inspired by me.”

“No. We not. Plus, we’re gonna talk about how you got one for me too. I follow you on Spotify ya know.” Jayden wasn’t trying to concede to anything. So, she switched it up. 

“I see we’ve returned to the joggers.” She spoke as he stood from the couch. 

“I want you to be comfortable when you with me. I know that you’re not about that nudist life yet. I peeped how quickly you made your way to the bathroom. Stick around me long enough and we can change that,” he took her hand and guided her through his home. Jayden adored how often his corny humor peaked out while he told her short stories about random furniture and events that had occurred in his home. He lent her a pair of his boxers too. By the time they made it back to the kitchen they were ready to get to preppin their dinner. 

“What’s on the menu for tonight Chef Jackson?”

“Shrimp Fajitas. I already deveined the shrimp before you got here,”

“Oh, okay. A true gentleman I see.”

“So, we got some bell peppers that need some slicin if you want to get started on that and I’ll worry about seasonin the meat.” 

“Aye aye Cap’n.” she mock saluted. They settled themselves into their roles at the countertop. Working side by side was exactly what Jayden wanted. She could steal glances without openly gawking at the specimen of man he was.

“So, about your playlist..” he opened

“What about it?” Jayden asked. 

“What do you think? About the music I mean. I saw you put damn near every song I ever released in a playlist,”

“Woww. We are out here lurkin lurkin in these streets.”

“Says the girl who downloaded my whole discography. What better way to know someone than through their taste in music? So, what’d you learn about me?”

“Well, from the way you’ve been blowin up my DMs and some of the songs I’ve heard, I’ve learned that you are definitely in a lane of your own.”

“Hmm. How’s that?” she had his interest peaked. 

“I mean you’re an artist who has been in the game long enough to know the rules and you completely disregard them. Nigga,” she said shifting her body and the knife she was using to cut peppers in his direction,” while most artists are over here talking about Versace, Gucci, YSL and Louis, you are over here flexin in CROCS! CROCS, my nigga!” she cackled and glanced down at his feet in case they might manifest just because she mentioned it. 

“You cute when you laugh,” he answered unafraid to openly admire her. “But, you look crazy wieldin that knife. Watch it J.”

She rolled her eyes. She had just discussed his music and he wasn’t even focused on that. Too busy complimentin her. So odd.

“Anyways, like I said you in your own lane. I can tell by the way you choose to direct your own videos as well. You have some out there concepts. Not Gaga meat dress out there. They’re simply abnormal to the culture, highly intellectual and yet it makes sense.” she continued. 

 “Oh, so we was peepin the videos too? How far down my rabbit hole did you go?

Shit. 

“A saw a few videos. I mean you’re cool.” she shrugged. Trevor felt that she gave this off too breezily. 

“Uh uh. That’s that hard Jayden. What else did you see?” he asked as he washed his hands free of the fresh lime, garlic, and seasonings he'd been working with. Jayden should have been watching him as he’d left his spot beside her. Maybe she would have seen the goofy Spongebob knowing smile he had plastered on his face as he toweled off his hands and made his way back to her from the other direction. 

“I said what I said. You got some decent music videos. Moving on,” she started and that’s when he attacked. He grabbed her from behind, causing her to drop her knife and tickled her like she wasn’t in the middle of doing the task that he’d assigned her. She was squealing and thrashing. She was trying to be angry but she couldn’t help her body’s natural reaction to laugh.

‘I’m gonna pee my pants!” she screamed. 

“Nope. you’re gonna pee my pants. You gone tell me the truth?” She said nothing and he refused to relent until she was real with him.

“OKAY. LEMME GO YOU BIG CHILD! I’LL TALK!” Trevor released her and waited for her to say what she was holding back.

“I may have binged watched both seasons of Grownish, Burning Sands, All American and alloftheDisneyshitthatyouhaveeverbeenin.” she threw that last part in so quickly he wasn’t certain when she’d come up for air again.

“In three weeks time? Oh shit. I got me a stalker.” Trevor joked. Jayden threw a bell pepper strip at him. 

“I thought I was supposed to feel comfortable in your house.” she quipped.

“That’s exactly what I’d expect a stalker to say,” he countered back. She was still as he chortled. And then she lunged for him. She chased him around his kitchen for a good two minutes until Trevor gave up because he was laughing so much. When he came to an immediate hault, Jayden crashed directly into him. 

“Ow!” she cried. 

“Aye, if you were looking for a hug all you had to do was ask J” he said, enveloping her in a bear hug. She just smiled at this dude who three weeks ago she didn’t even know existed. Now, they’d swapped some music, some knowledge and saliva. 

“Stop thinkin about time and just let it happen.” Trevor said. 

“I don’t like how close you are to my thoughts. Please back up.”

“Look from jump street, we was feelin each other and this connection. Don’t worry about the timeline of it. I can see your wheels turning. We don’t live by anybody’s rules. Like you said, we know em and then we break em. But we still succeed,”

“That’s not quite what I said.”

“I’m paraphrasing. I don’t have the script in front of me.” 

“Oh-kayyy. Can we please get this food in the oven? I’m hungry” Trevor looked her up and down. “Hakuna Matata J. We gone eat,” he said licking his lips. 

The two of them got all of the food onto a sheet pan to cook and retired to the living with some wine. 

“Okay, I know I’m supposed to be here to peep alllll 200 hundred of these new songs you got. But, I’m also interested in experiencing this speaker system you have here. Can we watch a Netflix show or something?” 

“I always knew you had good taste for sound. Okay so I got Amazon Prime, HBO, Showtime, Hulu, Disney + and  I got a lot of new stuff thanks to SAG that hasn’t even hit the theatres yet. So, you can pick your poison.”

Jayden’s eyes widened at the array of selection he was offering. “You got exclusive content? Like what?”

“Well, I got this film with Issa Rae and Lakeith-”

“Say no more. We’re watching that one sir.” 

“What about the plot? Or any of the other actors?” 

“I’ll figure that out along the way. Plug it in! Plug it in!” she shimmied and sing-songed. The two enjoyed their dinner and film; but, most of all they enjoyed each other’s company. Trevor was amused at the small comments and natural responses Jayden had throughout the film and her review of the song choices was right in line with his own. However, the short debate that they had afterwards recapping the movie and Jayden’s disappointment for both Issa’s performance and the less engaging storyline that her character had in comparison to her mother’s was bynfar his favorite moment of the night. She was animated through and through. None of her hardness was at the forefront and although they hadn’t seen eye to eye on every facet of the film, the communication was healthy. They genuinely listened to one another, communicated and adapted their points for their side based on new information and perspectives presented and they were able to evolve the film discussion into some deeper intellectual ones where neither felt that they were restricted by the knowledge of the other to discuss these topics earnestly 

"What's on your agenda for tomorrow?' Jayden asked as she nursed her third glass of wine sitting on top of Trevor’s freshly wiped down kitchen counter. Not only did this man have good taste in women, and home decor but he was intellectual, creative and cleanly?

TUH! 

"Well, I was supposed to link up with this lil thang this weekend," Jayden balked contemplating if there was enough wine in her glass to toss at him, "and we were gonna listen to music-about 200 songs," Trevor saw her release her grip on the glass and relax, “but she turned out to be a stalker and we got a lil carried away on the couch,”

“You had sex with your stalker? That’s dangerous,”

“True. But now I know that she’s really feelin me and she won’t go anywhere else.”  

“Aight, Imma head out” Jayden said, finishing her wine and hopping down from the counter. 

“Yeah, right.” he said following her out of the kitchen and turning off the lights. “The only place you’re heading is to sleep,” Trevor said

Jayden yawned “I already took a nap. Not really that tired.”

“You’re a bad liar,” he said. “Let me help you out Sleeping Beauty,” Before Jayden knew it he she was being bridal carried up the stairs 

“Left or right?”  he asked when she’d come out of the restroom.

“Which side do you sleep on? It’s your bed.”

“I gotta be appeasing stalkers. I never know what they gone do next,” Jayden climbed into the middle of the bed out of spite. 

Trevor crawled in behind her and pulled her closer. “You’re really never gonna let that go are you?”

Trevor held on a little tighter. “Nah”. 

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

TAG LIST: @twistedcharismaaa​​ @mygirlrenee​ @glittermakesmesmile​ @sarcastic-sunshines​ @chaneajoyyy​ @shewrites02​ @ghostfacekill-monger​ @raysunshine78​ @shewritestheblues​ @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade  @fd-writes @eyeknowmywrites​​ @thadelightfulone​​ @yoyolovesbucky

[annoyedfanfiction]

Security Chief

Pike x fem!reader (4)

You managed 7 hours and 28 minutes of sleep before you were once again woken by the door chime, and you managed not to knock over your armchair on the way to the door. Double win. You blinked against the corridor lights, vaguely registering Spock’s tall, lean figure through your sleep-slurred vision. “Spock, I thought I told you not to wander around on your own while the Captain is out,” you questioned, pulling your door open to let them in to your significantly darker room. “Lights, 40%.” “Nice to see you too, (Y/N).” Chris’ voice was husky and weak, but undeniably his. You spun back around to look at them more clearly, finding Spock standing behind the wheelchair Chris was seated in. “Chris!” you smiled, happily. “When did you wake up?” “An hour or so ago,” he answered, as you set about making tea. “I was told to ‘wait an hour or so help me god you will be back in this bed before you can say hi’. Apparently you had a long day yesterday, taking a planet singlehandedly.” “It wasn’t exactly a difficult negotiation.” You handed Spock a mug of Vulcan tea. “Except some also called a “Metron” came to tell us all off for having ‘violent intentions’ and tried to make me and the Gorn leader duel because we were ‘uncivilised’.” Your door chimed again, and you called for them to enter, revealing Michael. “Oh, hi Captain,” she inclined her head, politely, “I’m here for Spock.” Spock made to set down his mug of tea, a little reluctantly, but you waved it away. “If you like, you can take it with you,” you told him, easily. “Vulcan tea is hard to come by on predominantly-human space ships, it’d be a shame to waste it. Just bring back the mug when you get a chance.” He nodded, thanking you politely, and you earned a grateful smile from Michael, before the siblings disappeared from your quarters, leaving you and Chris alone.

“He proposed a duel and tried to call you uncivilised?” Chris questioned, thanking you for the mug of normal tea you handed him.  “Apparently violent impulses make us uncivilised, even if we don’t act on them.” You sipped your tea, rolling your eyes. “I’m glad I’m not a diplomat because I probably would’ve been less likely to tell him to fuck off if I was.” “Probably,” Chris agreed, laughing. The door chimed again, and you called enter, only for a flustered looking Hugh to stumble through. “(Y/N), the Captain– oh, fuck you,” he started, leaning back against the closed door in relief. “You can’t just disappear from medbay after being unconscious for three days!” “You didn’t tell him you were leaving?” you demanded, turning on Chris. “He said I couldn’t!” Chris defended, folding his arms. “Oh, that’s so much better,” you snapped, handing him your mug of tea as well, and beginning to push him towards the door. “The doctor said you shouldn’t leave medbay because you’re wounded, so you sneak out!” “I wanted to see you,” he complained, pouting. “Next time, don’t give me a heart attack, lover-boy,” Hugh commented, following the two of you back through the corridors. “What did you call me?” Chris questioned, defensively. “You heard me!” Hugh answered, defiantly, hooking him back up to the monitor. 

“Has there been some kind of medbay scandal I haven’t heard about?” you inquired, returning to the seat beside Chris’ bed you’d camped out in for three days. “Who’s lover-boy loving?” You ignored the pang in your chest as you asked and smirked instead. “What?” Hugh asked, incredulously. “You don’t know?” “I literally woke up twenty minutes ago when he and Spock came knocking,” you replied, defensively. “How am I meant to know?” “...you know, good point,” Hugh tried, lamely. “I’ll leave you two to it.” “Hugh?” you inquired, a little more dangerously. He waved, pulling the door shut behind him. “Well, that was fun. Sooo, who’s your medbay scandal then, Chris? I’m surprised, honestly, I always thought you had a thing for Una.” “Una?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow. “Well, Captain and First Officer, it kind of makes sense,” you shrugged, “You two spend so much time together, you know her almost as well as I do.” He laughed a little, but there was a hint of exasperation at its edge as he gestured for you to sit on the edge of the bed. “Una and I always have been and will be friends, (Y/N),” he pointed out, shaking his head. “You of all people must know that.” “Hey, I never said it was a requited thing,” you surrendered, holding your hands up, “I just thought you had a thing.” “Oof, good to know I’m not hot enough for your sister,” he teased, grinning. “I’m not sure it’s a hotness thing,” you laughed, completely blown away by the fact he’d not caught on. “You’re just a bit too...masculine to be her type.”

“Are you saying I’m hot, (Y/N)?” he asked, grin widening. “I’m not saying you’re not,” you hedged, leaning closer to where he was sitting. “There’s a slight issue with the hole in your chest at the moment.” You rested a pointed finger gently on the compress around his chest. “Way to kick a man when he’s down,” Chris complained, folding his arms. “I didn’t mean to get shot.” “It’s a good thing you’re handsome, honey,” you taunted, “Because you never did learn to shut that pretty mouth.” “Ha! So you do think I’m handsome,” he exclaimed, triumphantly. “Chris, even the lesbians on this ship think you’re handsome.” You rolled your eyes, shifting in to sit in your lean. “It’s more a fact than an opinion.” “You’re sending very mixed messages here,” he grumbled, without shifting the amusement from his eyes. “And you still haven’t told me who your medbay scandal is,” you responded, cheekily. “There wasn’t a medbay scandal,” Chris sighed, rolling his eyes. “Hugh’s just having a go.” “You sure got defensive over him ‘having a go’,” you pressed. “C’mon Chris, who’s the lucky girl?” He mumbled something unintelligible. “What was that?” “I said, it’s a more a question of whether I’m going to be a lucky guy,” he repeated, huffily.  “Oooh, so you haven’t asked her yet!” you snickered, happily, “This just gets better and better.” “You know, some people would consider it weird to talk about yourself in the third person,” Chris commented, offhandedly. “I mean, in Standard, it is a bit weird,” you answered, frowning. “Was that a weird attempt to throw me off the trail? I guess it depends. People do it sometimes as a hypothetic–oh.” You felt the heat rush to your cheeks and you looked back up to meet Chris’ eyes. “OH.” “Reassuring, thanks,” he said, flatly, but with no real heat. “So, uh, dinner or nah?” “How about breakfast?” 

[takaraphoenix]

So since you're waiting for the season 3 of Elena of avalor, questions if you got any ships? There is a good kind of even Tri split of shipping Elena with Mateo, Gabe and for the LGBT Naomi. Find it weird when people ship Naomi and Esteban or Isa and Gabe. Also about your note about aging them up, while they do look the same as the beginning, they do mention a couple times in the second season that's been a year and Elena is 17. There was never any birthday episode tho. Which also bugs me..

I feel like Mateo/Elena and Gabe/Naomi are the heteronormative ships they’re trying to subtly push. It’s not working, so there’s that. xD

Personally, Gabe/Mateo and Naomi/Elena all the way! But also, after the Sirenas were introduced, Marisa/Elena and Daria/Naomi and me being me I could absolutely make Marzel/Gabe/Mateo work too. Also, on the gay front, absolutely Tornado/Luna. Uhuu.

The straights are highly underrepresented for me though, because like… Francisco/Luisa are so cute and I adore how much Daniel loves Scarlett, but like that’s legitimately it.

Isa and Gabe…? Really?? Yeah no, definitely not. But the Esteban/Naomi I can see where it’s coming from, their banter is absolutely delightful and I think their dynamic is the one with most growth because they did go from enemies to friends, so the jump “to lovers” is really not that far-fetched.

I know they keep bringing up Elena’s current age I think once a season as a reminder but there is never a birthday-episode for her. They had one for Naomi - her 16th - and one for Esteban and even one for Luna, but the titular main character didn’t get to celebrate even one of the three birthdays that must have happened in the past two seasons.

I do like that we can notch down the passing of time based on the Day of the Dead though. Like. That is the one thing that happens every year. Even though season 2 really confused me about that, to be honest, because they celebrated it at the Summer Castle, where they went, to spend the summer, and somehow I was under the impression the Day of the Dead was in autumn. And by “under the impression”, I mean “most definitely know that”…

But urgh, I love this show a lot. It’s great. The characters are amazing, the dynamics are amazing and while vaguely alluded, the at the top mentioned heteronormative ships aren’t actually canon. It’s all about that friendship and that familial love and I adore that.

Also, huge bonus-points for actually inverting tropes!

Naomi’s mom? I was 100% sure that was another case of “this is a cartoon, one parent is enough and it’s 90% of the time the dad and with a dead mom he seems like an even more amazing dad, so let’s kill the mom off” - seriously incredibly tired of that trope. And then she just… comes back? And, the bigger part where they actually inverted big times, she stayed. Because this is another huge trope in animated properties.

Parent(s) who travel a lot due to their job return, the kid thinks they Return For Good, the parent does a speech about how they will now stay together for good, buuut twist: they actually mean to take their kid with them, rip the kid out of the only home they’ve ever known and away from all their friends with absolutely zero regard as to what the kid wants, there’s drama about that until, in the end, with sad expressions, the parents leave alone because they see just how important home is to the kid but also they can’t be bothered to fucking stay with their own damn kid so they leave because work and their own desires are more important than their child.

It’s a very specific trope and yet it keeps happening and I absolutely hate it. I already hate the part where people have kids just to abandon them because their work is sooo much more important than their family and are just not home all the the time, because genuinely just don’t have a kid then if you can’t be bothered to prioritize your kid over your job. But that this in TV always ends with the parents leaving their underaged kid alone once again really vexes me because it’s treated like a grand gesture since they ““allowed”“ their child to stay in the only home the kid’s ever known instead of making decisions over the kid’s head and taking them along.

Here? She? Stays? She sees how important this place is to Naomi, she sees how important Naomi is to this place, to the people who have been there for Naomi while she was off to work. And even though she has this dream-job offer at her own old home, the country she was born in, she chooses her family over that and decides to stay in Avalor with her husband and her daughter. I was so sure she would leave Daniel and Naomi behind in Avalor and go alone. This was such a pleasant change.

Heck, even that they introduced Ash Delgado - because, again, I expected her to just be another killed-off mom for the sake of, I genuinely don’t know, saving animation time and not having to design so many characters and promoting what Amazing Dads those single fathers are. But no. She’s there. She exists. I don’t like her, but damn…

So, that went wildly off-topic there, but I think it still answers the question! Sorry for the rambling, I’m just really enjoying this show, can’t wait for more, hope there will be plenty of the Sirenas and that Joaquín returns for multiple episodes because he is an absolute delight!