#this is half crack and half serious oops

[fanficimagery]

Joining the Biz.

When the hotels are all booked up, your cousin asks if a few friends can crash at your place. You accept, not knowing you'll be meeting some people who will become lifelong friends and get a shot at doing what you once loved. [Part Two of Three]

Words: 7.4K Author's Note: There's only a very brief Jey/Reader interaction in this. Oops. Just trying to set up Reader for part three, but at least there's some fluff that will make you smile. Hopefully..?

Over the next few days, your house becomes hang-out central. You even meet Liv, Finn, JD, and Carlito, but you don't click with them as you did the others.

It becomes obvious right away to everyone visiting your home that there's a connection between you and Jey, though the two of you dance around it. When he's not training at the arena or at the gym, he's snuggling you on the couch in the living room or just affectionately teasing you. Damian had volunteered to swap rooms with him, but you assured Damian that nothing overly intimate would be happening with Jey and explain your reasoning to him like you had explained to Jey's family. He understood and then dropped it, but you occasionally caught him smiling in sympathy at you when he saw you tucked into Jey's side.

Friday morning, your main three houseguests find you printing out a large picture of Roman. When asked why, you explained how Solo wanted you to crack Roman's serious facade, so you were going to sit ringside holding up a sign for him. And when they saw what you had written, they laughed, and Rhea took it upon herself to add red hearts around Roman's picture.

You drove to the arena early, flashing your backstage pass to be let in right away rather than wait in line. You had found your seat, which just so happened to be near the steel stairs leading up to the ring and took a moment to snap a few pics of the filling arena and post them. After posting them, you then had to clear out your friend requests yet again because the fans were interested in seeing who the woman that Jey, Roman, Jimmy, Dominik, Damian, and Rhea were posting about. Jey had posted about your workouts together, plus a few pics of your ass in your gear, but Dominik, Jimmy, and Rhea had posted your drunken dancing and Rhea's entrance stomp. Roman and Damian, however, posted group photos of all of you together or candids taken around your home and thanked you for opening up your home to their craziness.

And that, apparently, got their fans hella interested in you.

When the show starts, you keep your sign down by your feet until the perfect moment. Instead, you sit there cheering and booing as wrestlers come and go, snapping pics and video here and there. And when it's time for The Bloodline to come out, you boo Solo along with everyone else. However, when Solo notices you are booing him, his eyes squint as if he's trying to keep his mean mug in place and you're quick to form a heart with your hands and blow him a kiss. His lips purse as if to fight back a smile and you mentally cheer.

As The Bloodline talks, you grip your sign with one hand and prepare your phone with the other to take video. You boo as they talk and then scream when Roman's entrance song starts to play. Immediately you start to record on your phone.

Roman walks down the ramp, looking pissed off and intimidating as hell. You scream along with the fans, holding your sign out in front of you. As Roman nears, you cheer even louder and manage to garner his attention. He notices you first, keeping his expression neutral, but when his gaze darts to your sign and then back to your face, the wiggle of your eyebrows is his downfall. He barks out a laugh, realizes his mistake, and mouths I hate you while stomping up the steps. Half of your sign is a shirtless picture of him, but the other half reads Daddy's Home along with all the hearts Rhea had added.

As you watch The Bloodline and Roman argue back and forth, your phone vibrates with a text message.

From JeyBae: DID YOU JUST CRACK ROMAN ON LIVE TV?! To JeyBae: Yes. Yes, I did. Tell your baby brother I expect all my WWE shirts within the month. He'll know what I'm talking about.

Jey sends back laughing emojis and you send him the video of Roman when he reads your sign and cracks.

And when you get home later that night, you have a text from Roman promising to get you back for that.

You don't believe Roman until that same weekend, everyone's winding down at your house again after hours of shooting promos and having their pictures taken to refresh the web page. This time the guys are cooking, so you're free to lounge around and sunbathe with Rhea off to the side. However, just as you get comfortable, Solo and Roman take it upon themselves to grab you by the wrists and ankles. You scream as you hang between them, eyeing the pool with trepidation. Both men are laughing, bringing up how you made them crack on live tv, and no matter how much you say that it was all Solo's idea, the two Samoans swing you and then launch you into the pool.

Monday night has you attending Raw, ringside yet again, this time reppin' Jey with a Yeet sign and wearing his merch. You cheer and boo along with the crowd, surprising those around you when Dominik and Rey both break character when they spot you at different times. Dominik fist bumps you as he passes by, but your tio Rey takes a moment to pause and hug you before getting back into character. A few people around you ask why the Mysterio's are friendly with you, so you throw them a bone and admit that Rey's your uncle and Dominik your cousin. After that, they decide to leave you alone when they realize you're invested in the story telling going on in front of you.

When you get home, you're in high spirits. But then you realize that when Damian, Jey, and Rhea get back to your place, they'll have to pack and get some sleep before they have to wake up at four in the morning so you can drive them to the airport, and your mood plummets. And since you had eaten after leaving the arena, and the others had eaten at the arena, you decide to take a shower and crawl into bed.

Close to midnight, you feel yourself being moved and your eyes flutter open. You're curled on your side, and you see Damian and Rhea crawling into bed in front of you.

Rhea smiles, voice quiet. "One last sleepover."

A hand slides over your stomach, and you slide your own hand over it, sliding your fingers between Jey's. He's held you like this a few times, but you never touched his hand. Tonight, however, you'll allow yourself this moment. "I'm gonna really miss you guys."

"We're gonna miss you too," Damian says.

"Get some sleep, baby girl." A kiss is pressed to the back of your shoulder. "We still have a few hours before we gotta be on the road."

Though you're sad, you still manage to fall asleep while being cuddled by Jey.

Later, when their alarms go off, everyone's dragging their feet downstairs. You take the Range Rover, letting Damian drive. Rhea sits up front with him, and you sit in the back with Jey who refuses to let you sit far from him.

Damian parks at the airport so you can get off with them, and you help Rhea carry her bags inside.

When everyone gets to the point where you'll have to stay behind, they each take a moment to thank you.

Rhea goes first, dropping her bags and pulling you into a hug. "Thank you for this week. I didn't expect to find another family member when Dom suggested we stay at your house."

"You will always be welcomed here. Always." As you pull out of the hug, you wrinkle your nose when you feel your eyes stinging with tears already. Rhea laughs, her own eyes glassy as she steps back.

Damian steps up next, and you wetly laugh when your head barely meets the middle of his chest. "See you around, hermana."

"Don't be a stranger, Priest. You guys all have my number. Use it."

"I will." He squeezes you one last time before stepping back, he and Rhea starting to walk off. "We'll give you guys a moment."

As you turn, you're immediately engulfed by Jey. This hug is different than every one he's bestowed upon you since meeting you and you can't help but melt into him.

As your arms wrap tightly around his waist, you hide your face against the side of his neck and the two of you just stay there like that, not speaking. Then after a moment passes, you say, "This isn't fair."

"Right guy, wrong time, right?"

You huff a laugh. "Your brothers and cousin gossip too much."

"Nah. They just want to see us happy. You make me happy."

His words make your heart ache and your throat swell with emotion. "You make me happy too, but-"

"I know, baby girl. I know. It's like you said, this isn't fair." When you and Jey finally pull free from the hug, you can't meet his gaze. Not until he gently cups your face and makes you look up, pressing his forehead against yours. "We'll figure it out, yeah? It's only been a week, but already I know that whatever this is, it's different."

You sigh. "I can't do long distance."

"You will." Jey presses a kiss to your forehead and then steps back, smirking. "I'm not letting you go, baby. We're gonna text and Facetime so much that you're gonna be sick of me."

"You're ridiculous."

"And you're mine. Remember that."

You gulp, his possessive words stirring something within you, but you manage to squash it less he notices. Jey continues to walk backwards with his bag, smirking, and then turns to head to his gate.

As you walk out of the airport, you're filled with sadness and loneliness, but also hope for the future.

You've never had an issue sleeping alone, in fact you preferred it, but you have trouble getting used to an empty bed this time around. You manage to cope though, especially when your new friends keep their promise to check in with you every other day. And not to mention that you get to see their alter egos appear on Monday Night Raw and Friday Night Smackdown which gives you a reason to text them, making fun of their storylines.

In between of keeping in touch with Jey, you manage to focus on yourself and grow your business of IT work, having enough resources to hire a few individuals and purchase a few work vehicles so no one had to drive their personal vehicles to any locations. And though you hadn't realized it at the time, spreading out the work actually lifted the weight that had been on your shoulders.

On Raw, you can say your favorite storylines are the Terror Twins beating the shit out of Judgement Day any chance they get, and Jey stepping up to protect Damian and Rhea when they need it. You don't really have a favorite storyline on Smackdown, but you do watch for Roman and Solo, and their ongoing battle for Tribal Chief. You get annoyed with the Bloodline when they accept Nia Jax into their ranks, making their faction even stronger. And then during one brutal beatdown on Roman, Jimmy finally makes his grand return to the ring. Roman and Jimmy aren't enough to take on the Bloodline, so Jey surprises everyone by rushing to their rescue. It's a mini reunion of the old Bloodline, and the new Bloodline seems to think twice about attacking them before retreating.

It's when you're Facetiming with Jey, teasing him about when the Creative team is finally going to give every fan what they want- his date with Rhea to Waffle House- that you get a call from your Tio Rey. You make up an excuse to hang up with Jey, not wanting to clue him in about Rey randomly calling you, and then call your Tio back.

"Hey, Tio," you greet when Rey picks up. "What's going on?"

"Mija, how are you?"

"I'm good. Work is keeping me busy."

"That's good, that's good." Rey falls quiet for a moment before saying, "Listen, I know I spoke about you possibly joining the business, but I need to know how serious you are about it."

"I mean, I wouldn't mind," you say. "I miss it. Miss the training and everything, but let's be serious for a second, Tio. I'm in no shape to suddenly get into a ring."

"You're in great shape, mija. It wouldn't take much to get you fit for the ring."

You chuckle. "If only, huh." Rey says nothing. "Tio?"

"What if I told you I got you a zoom meeting with Paul? Would you listen to what he has to say?"

"Shit. Are you serious?" Your heart starts to beat double.

"Yes." He chuckles. "I remember how much you loved wrestling and since you've made so many new friends within the business…"

"I'll do it." The words are out before you can second guess yourself. "But I have conditions of my own, Tio. The storyline has to be pretty decent if I'm to agree."

"I'd expect nothing less. I'll text you the details."

"Alright, Tio. Thank you. I love you."

"Love you too, mija. I hope your meeting goes well."

You're a ball of nerves and anxiety when Rey texts you the information about your video call meeting with Paul "Triple H" Levesque, the meeting only being in a few days.

You keep the meeting a secret from your friends and tell your Tio not to tell Dominik because your cousin wouldn't be able to keep it from Rhea. And to distract yourself, you keep busy with work.

The video call with Paul comes and goes, and you end the call feeling like you're on cloud nine. The storyline they're looking to drop a newcomer into is that of a female presence alongside Roman Reigns, of all people. They want someone who can be serious, but also a little goofy since they're looking to tone down Roman's alter ego since he's become very likable once again.

You had explained to Paul that you would love to work with Roman as a female ready to kick any other female's ass who dares to lay a hand on him, but you're not looking for a romantic storyline. Against your better judgment, you admit to having a very personal relationship with Jey Uso, and you rather not make things weird by your alter ego getting it on with Roman's alter ego. Paul chuckled away your worry, especially when you went on to playfully ask when Jey and Rhea were going to get that Waffle House date because you were waiting for it just like every other fan.

Paul talks a bit more about how Roman will be treating this newcomer like a little sister and be protective of her as she will be of him, and you're liking the idea more and more. And when he sees your very obvious interest in wanting to be that person, he slyly admits that Raw and Smackdown wrestlers will be making appearances on each other's shows, so it'll be likely that you see Jey Uso more frequently.

When you finally admit you're seriously interested, Paul tells you that there will be more phone calls and a meeting in person to be had in the near future. Since this isn't the normal way to bring in a new wrestler, the higher ups will want to see you in action.

"Noted, sir. If I'm to wrestle in person so you can see my skills, there's only one female I want to go against, but she needs to swear to secrecy about not letting it slip that it's me she's meeting with."

"Who do you got in mind, kid?" He had asked.

"Ripley," you mused. "Her technique is right up my alley. Plus, she's a friend."

"Jesus. Don't tell me I'm gonna have two brutal forces on my hand."

You smirked at him through the camera. "Can you imagine a team-up with us? We'd tear your female roster up."

Paul had chuckled. "How are your mic skills?"

You shrugged. "Not sure, but I don't have stage fright. I'm good at talking shit, but I will have to remember to censor myself. I have a potty mouth when I'm pissed off."

"That's what the production team is for. They'll bleep if necessary."

"That's going to be a lot of bleeping."

"I'm sure it can be handled." There was a moment of silence as Paul looked at something off screen. "Well, so far I like what I see. You seem like you have a good head on your shoulders," he'd admitted. "Why don't we exchange numbers, so we don't have to go through the hassle of emailing. Then when I get everything set up for our face to face, we'll fly you out so we can see you in action."

"Yes, sir. Thank you so much for this opportunity."

And after a quick exchange of numbers, the video call was ended, and you texted your Tio the good news.

Over the next few weeks, you change up your routine to make more time to work out and even change your eating habits. You even call a mandatory meeting with your employees, telling them that you're taking on a second job that's unrelated to what you're currently doing. If they wish to walk away, they're more than welcome to do it with no bad blood between you, but if they wish to stick around then they'll be getting a pay raise since they'll also be taking on a fair bit more of the work. Your new hires have no problem with a pay raise and decide to stick around, learning their new schedule for when you'll be out of town.

When you finally fly out to meet with Paul, your Tio Rey, Rhea, and the higher ups, you're driven to a random gym to keep your presence a secret. You walk in with the hood of your hoodie pulled up and you watch Rhea warm up in the ring. For a moment you just watch her and then you head in.

As you approach the ring, Rhea takes notice of you. Smirking, you pull down your hood and her eyes widen in delight.

"Shut the fuck up!" She practically yells in elation. "You?! You're the new blood?"

Laughing, you hop onto the side of the ring and step through the ropes. "Hopefully."

Rhea embraces you with more laughter, squeezing you tight.

"Good. You've met already," Paul suddenly says. Stepping up to the side of the ring and looking up at the two of you. "So, here's how this is going to go.."

As Paul tells you what he and the other higher ups expect to see, you strip out of your hoodie and toss it aside. You pull your shirt off, leaving you in a sports bra and your leggings that are more than acceptable to fight in. You take the time to stretch, asking questions here and there to make sure you're on the same page of what they want to see. And when you begin, you and Rhea take the time to warm-up by running back and forth across the ring, bouncing off the ropes and dropping to the mat so the other could hop over whoever was down on the mat at the time.

Then when Paul tells you to fight, to feed off one another's energy and read each other's body language, you and Rhea lock in the middle. Each of you takes hits and kicks from the other, acting as if it were a real match and you were seriously injuring one another. You take turns climbing onto the ropes, but never properly get a moonsault in. You surprise everyone when you 6-1-9 Rhea, but Rhea ends your little session when she gives you the Riptide and pins you with her provocative pin.

Panting and heaving, you lay there on the mat as Rhea falls onto her own back, catching her breath as well.

There's a silence that follows before several rounds of applause break out.

"Atta girl, mija!" Rey cheers.

"That.. was impressive work for being rusty," Paul says. "How do you feel?"

"Honest answer?" You ask, breathing heavily.

"Yes."

"Rhea's pin kinda turned me on a little bit." Rhea and Paul bark out a laugh, and your Tio shakes his head in amusement at you. "But in all seriousness, I feel great. I haven't done that since I was a teenager and it.. it felt like coming home."

"I'm glad to hear that," Paul says. "We're all impressed, especially since you kept up with Rhea so well. You weren't joking that your technique was right up alley. I think with a few months of training, you'll be good enough to be introduced."

"Really?" You slowly smile, eyes turning misty.

"Yes. In the meantime, you need to make your presence known on social media. You have the option of keeping your private life private while making a new profile that's just for your public life as a wrestler, or you can start integrating your wrestling life into the profiles you currently have."

"Uh, I think I'll make some new profiles. I'll post some private life moments for the fans so they can get a peek behind the curtain in my life, but nothing too personal that they can track down where I live."

Paul nods, knocking his knuckles onto the mat. "Sounds good. And good work in the ring. I'm glad your uncle just wasn't all talk."

You grin. "Thank you for taking a chance on me, sir."

"Thank you for being an asskicker. Now, I'll be in contact. I'll get you a contract soon and we'll talk some more."

"Yes, sir. Thank you again."

Paul and the others take their leave, leaving Rey and Rhea with you. As they disappear, you can't help but burst into tears. Rhea laughs, rolling over on top of you and straddling your hips as she grabs your wrists and squeals. Rey joins the two of you in the ring, and you end up laughing as Rhea can't stop cursing and just being excited about you possibly working with her.

"So, what's this about a faction I've been hearing about? Do you already know where you're going?"

As you wipe away your tears, you sniffle. "Yeah. There's a storyline that requires a female companion and Tio Rey told them I could possibly be a good fit."

"And I was right. You were magnificent, mija."

"But it's all still a secret, so Rhea, you can't say anything!"

"Got it, got it. My lips are sealed." She crawls off of you and you sit up, laughing at her smile. "This is awesome. I hope you come to Raw. You can be our tiny terror triplet."

You huff a laugh, shoulder checking her. "I thought Uso was the triplet?" She snorts. "Seriously, I'm banking on you and Jey finally getting to go to a Waffle House, only for Damian to obliviously be third wheeling. You should become a throuple. I'd ship it if no one else does."

Rhea laughs. "Shut up. Don't give them any ideas."

Rey finally helps you to your feet, making sure you're alright and that there are no injuries that need to be looked over. You want to spend more time with Rhea, but she's got to get back to the arena before anyone becomes suspicious. But before she leaves, she tells you to keep her in the loop about what you can and when you'll possibly be making your debut. You assure her you will and to keep a lookout for your new public social pages where you'll start off as inconspicuous as you can by posting about how you want to get back into shape and what not.

When it's just you and your Tio Rey left, you hang out in the ring to listen to all the pointers he has to offer. He works with you for a couple of hours before he buys you dinner and sends you back to your hotel.

For your contract signing, your Tio Rey sits in on the meeting with you to explain a few things here and there. You're aware that your public socials will mostly need to be posts as if your alter ego was posting or anything related to fan interactions/charities/upcoming shows, but that you can also have personal pics/videos so long as you explain you're posting as your real self and not your wrestling self. However, since your impending appearance on the show is being kept on the down low, you're only to post work out videos or get ready with me videos and show no inkling of you getting into the business.

The topic of body art comes up because when you're under contract, any tattoos need to be approved beforehand. You assure Paul that there's not really anything you plan to get at the moment and understand you need to run any future ideas by the higher ups.

When Paul and some of the Creative team spitball ideas about how to start showing your face associated with the business, you have an idea. They hear you out, and though the dynamic between Dom and Rey is overused, you ask them to bring it up again. You can start flying out to shows to watch your family do work, but then get upset one night when Judgement Day starts beating down on Rey. It'll give you the opportunity to jump the barricade and shield your Tio, only to get into an argument with Dominik in the ring, tearing down those he now calls his family. You suggest Liv and JD attacking you, and Finn and Carlito attacking Rey while Dom stands back, unsure of what to do.

As you were talking, you hadn't seen the team taking notes. Only when Paul chuckled and joked that you should take up a part time job as a writer, did you finally sign the contract. Rey was ecstatic and Paul welcomed you aboard, telling you to go home and continue doing what you were doing. They'd bring you in soon.

. . . .

When you get back home, you don't change anything in your routine. The only thing that changes is that you start posting videos on your breaks, videos that Rhea immediately starts following and hyping you up for.

It takes a few days, but eventually you notice an uptick of followers from those you made friends with within the WWE community. Your comment section is full of encouragement and playful flirtation, but it isn't long until the trolls find your page. Some shower you with compliments because of your affiliation with certain wrestlers while others troll you. But since you're under contract, you can't lash out at their pathetic criticism less you want to be reprimanded by the higher ups at WWE.

One day, you're really feeling yourself and decide to do a pole workout. You wear a pair of cheeky workout shorts and a very pretty workout bralette, and get to work. There are no provocative dance moves, instead you decide to show off the strength of your arms and legs by climbing, twirling, and going upside down on the pole. You even show off your flexibility, and when it's all over you post the video with the song Play Hard by David Guetta, Ne-Yo and Akon. Immediately, the likes and comments roll in. And ten minutes later, Jey has you on Facetime.

"Yessss," you drawl as you answer the video call with a grin.

"You really gonna do me like that, baby?" As you stare at Jey, you see he's in a locker room, towel draped over his shoulder. You chuckle at his pout. "I know you danced in the past, but I didn't know you were still able to do all that."

"Of course I can still do it. Pole dancing is quite the workout. And it's fun when the person you want to see sees it." You wink and Jey squints his eyes at you.

"You still in them little ass shorts?"

"What is it with you and my ass?" You laugh, heading towards the body length mirror you have in the hallway of your home. Standing in front of the mirror, you angle your body so your ass can be seen as you twist, aiming the camera over your shoulder. When you see the screen white out for a second, you freeze. "Did you- did you just take a screenshot?"

Jey smirks. "Yes, and? I miss my girl. I need this."

You blush, heading shaking in amusement before heading to your living room and falling onto your couch to relax. "You're ridiculous."

"You know it! But as much as I've missed seeing your face and booty, there's actually a reason I called. Big Uce needs a favor."

You roll your eyes. "How many times have I told you and everyone else that my house is your house? If someone needs a place to crash, my house is open."

"See! Told you, man. You could have just showed up and she'd let you right in." Jey is talking to someone off camera and then he's scooting over, making room for another person. Roman enters half the screen. "Hey YN, how are you?"

"I'm good, Rome," you say. "How are things with you?"

He shrugs. "Could be better. My shoulder's been acting up, so the boss wants me to take a month off to heal and prepare myself for some storyline they wanna start me in."

"And you wanna spend that month here?"

You chuckle as Roman turns sheepish. "If you don't mind? It's just at your place, I know I won't be bothered if I go for a swim or soak in the hot tub."

"Come on down, Rome. It'll be nice to have some noise back in this house."

"Thank you. Do you think you can pick me up from the airport or should I get a rental?"

"Send me the details of when you'll be landing, and I'll be there."

"Alright. I'll go book the flight right now and text you right after." Jey takes over the call once more, grinning.

"What's got you cheesin'?"

"You. It makes me happy to see you treat my family like your family."

"Yeah, well they make it easy."

Jey continues to smile before it turns rather wistful. "The next time I ain't booked for anythin', I'm coming down. We have a lot of time to make up for."

"I'll probably see you before you see me," you muse. At his arched eyebrow, you say, "Dom and Tio Rey want me to start coming to shows. I'll probably wait until Roman leaves so I don't leave him alone here, but I should be coming to a Raw show at least once a month from now on."

"When you do, don't book a hotel room. You can bunk with me."

"Sure thing, Uso. Now get back to work. I wanna see you yeet that lame ass Judgement Day soon."

He laughs. "Your cuz is in that lame ass Judgement Day."

"I said what I said."

He shakes his head in amusement. "I'll see what I can do. Talk to you later, baby girl."

"Bye, Jey."

When Roman gets to your house, you help him get situated in the room that he'll be taking over for the month. You hand him the keys to your Range Rover to use while he stays and tell him you have a friend that works at the local gym who can get him some private hours should he want it. He agrees to the private hours so long as you join him which ends up being the perfect excuse to work out alongside Roman and post those pictures and videos. After all, you'll be part of his faction when you start at WWE, so it'll be nice to have those pictures on standby after your affiliation is known.

You and Roman post serious pics of working out side by side, encouraging one another. Some videos are silly, though, especially the one Roman posts where he mentions that having a workout partner is actually fun. But when he pans to you, you're laid out on the floor, panting for breath, and giving him a shaky thumbs up that he laughs at. While you had a decent routine, Roman's was intense, and you cursed him the entire time he pushed you to your limit.

Monday and Friday nights are reserved for watching wrestling on your flatscreen, and Roman can't help but tease you when you get into it, especially where it concerns his cousins.

"When are you going to make it official?" Roman asks as he watches you watch Jey's match on screen.

"When I can travel along with you guys for a couple months at a time," you answer without missing a beat.

"What about your job?"

You wince as Jey is tossed from the top rope. "I can work from the road," you admit. "I have employees now that can do the house calls and I'll be available Monday through Friday, nine to five over the phone. The only thing keeping me from flying out is that I've yet to find a trustworthy house sitter for when I'm away."

The only sound that can be heard is the commentators announcing Jey's win before, "You really love him, don't you?"

You freeze and turn towards Roman. "Love is a.. strong word."

He rolls his eyes. "If you didn't love him, you wouldn't be finding a way to travel on the road with us. It's okay to have strong feelings for him. You can't help who you love, when or how it happens."

You turn sheepish, not wanting to talk about it anymore with Jey's cousin. Your feelings for Jey were strong and they had caught you off guard. You figured they'd diminish when he left, but you only missed him more, and those feelings grew every time you spoke on the phone. It also didn't help that all your mutual friends were rooting for the two of you to work things out.

Roman lets the conversation drop and the two of you continue cohabitating like normal, treating one another like the world's most annoying brother/sister.

When it's time for Roman to get back to work, you fly out with him to attend a showing of Smackdown. You wear his merch, even carrying a sign that proclaims Roman as THE tribal chief. Unknowingly, Solo and Nia add beef to your future interactions with them when Nia rips the sign from your hands and tears it in half. You merely smirk at her, however, earning a nod of approval from Roman and a few secret texts from Paul who's giddy that his wrestlers are unknowingly setting themselves up for your explosive introduction.

But before you can get to your introduction on Smackdown, you need to make appearances on Raw as the distraught family member who's tired of your Tio and cousin beating each other down.

. . . .

Paul gives you a total of three appearances on Raw, sitting ringside and shouting at your cousin when he takes things too far with his dad. Some fans start to suspect that you might join WWE, however briefly, since WWE usually pulls in a non-wrestling family members every now and then to spice things up. Unfortunately for those who don't know, you're very much into wrestling and know how to hold your own.

On the night of your so-called debut, you're sitting ringside yet again.

(Live on Raw)

Rey Mysterio walks out to an amped up crowd and when he spots you, he takes a moment to hug you and greet you with a kiss to your temple. As he slides into the ring to start warming up, the Judgement Day theme goes off. Dominik swaggers out with Liv hanging off his arm and your nose wrinkles as Liv openly laughs at you, mockingly wiggling her fingers in a wave when you try calling out to Dominik to stop this feud already.

He doesn't, and father and son go toe to toe.

Rey and Dominik trade blows back and forth, and even with the help of Liv… Dominik still loses the match. This enrages Judgement Day, and it isn't long until Finn, JD, and Carlito are running down the ramp to beat up on Rey.

From your side of the barrier, you're screaming at Dom to stop it. You ignore the camera crew when they film your reaction and when you see Finn pull out a chair to wrap around Rey's neck, you hop the barrier. The crowd cheers as you slide into the ring like it's something you've done all your life and you cover Rey's body, holding your arms out as you stare up at your cousin who's standing on the top rope, ready to jump on the chair around his dad's neck.

A microphone is slid to you, and you pick it up, pleading with Dom as you stand up. "Stop! Stop it, Dom. That's enough." Your voice cracks and you sniffle. "It's enough."

As Dom stares at you in shock, he slowly climbs down the rope and requests a mic as you remove the chair from Rey's neck and slide it behind you, glaring at Judgement Day surrounding you. "Prima, what the hell are you doin' in here?"

"What am I doing? What are you doing?" You ask in return. "This is your dad, Dom. Your blood! Cut the crap already and come home."

He's stunned silent before huffs, a cruel smile taking over. "Home? What home? And blood doesn't define family, cuz. You should know that. When was the last time you spoke to your old man, huh?"

Oof. Low blow, but part of the script. Paul did tell you to ad-lib the fight to get under each other's skin. Slowly, you stand, turning around in a circle and putting your back to the ropes rather than having someone stand behind you.

"Of course, I know blood doesn't define family, pendejo. But I seriously hope you don't mean to call this rag-tag team of cowards your family." The crowd laughs as those of the Judgement Day take offense to that. "You really think Judgement Day 2.0 cares about you?" You huff out a laugh. "You're delusional. The only one who cared about you in their own weird way was Rhea. She brought you in. She gave you a family. She kept you safe," you seethe at him as the crowd agrees with you. "Believe it or not, Rhea and Damian were the only loyal ones of Judgement Day, and you ruined a good thing when you betrayed them all for a Harley Quinn reject that has eyes for Finn when you're not paying attention."

The crowd ooh's.

"No! No that's not true," Liv screams when she rips the mic from Dom, shouldering her women's title as if it proves that she's the best. "I love my daddy Dom and he loves me. Rhea was toxic!"

"Toxic or not, she's clearly the better choice." The crowd cheers as you look Liv up and down, disgust evident in your features. "Have fun with Rhea's sloppy seconds."

You drop the mic, turning to help Rey up. However, Liv's scream of rage makes you pause, and you feel the weight of her championship belt connect with the back of your head. You fall forward and the crowd goes into an uproar. When kicks start connecting with your back, you curl up on your side and curl your arms around your head.

Liv gets in a few kicks before you take charge. Between one kick and the next, you roll onto your back and sweep Liv's legs out from beneath her. When she falls, you scramble onto your hands and knees and straddle the women's champion before grasping her hair in one hand and delivering blow after blow with the other.

The arena fills with screams and cheers, and then you're dragged off of Liv. As your arms are held behind you by JD, Finn and Carlito help Liv up. She attacks you with hits and kicks while Dominik watches from the corner, hands in his hair as he's torn between stopping the attack or not.

THIS IS MY BRUTALITY!

Rhea's theme song goes off, purple lights flashing, and the crowd is deafening as Rhea and Damian rush the ring. Judgement Day quickly abandons ship, and the Terror Twins stalk the ring back and forth, pointing and threatening the cowards as they run away.

You stand back, glancing warily between the Terror Twins and your Tio who's still laid out on the mat.

When they turn towards you, Rhea and Damian watch you with unsurety in their gazes. You're holding onto your stomach where Liv landed kick after kick, and when your Tio groans, you rush to help him to his feet. Damian beats you to it, however, and offers Rey a hand up much to the crowd's surprise.

There's another stare off before you say, "Thank you."

Damian's expression is kept neutral, but Rhea slowly smirks, licking her bottom lip in a rather seductive manner. You can feel your cheeks heating against your will, and she laughs before her and Damian are rolling out of the ring with a mock salute towards you and Rey.

After a moment, Rey heads for the stairs and you follow after him, the two of you leaning on one another as you make your way backstage.

(End of broadcast segment.)

The moment you make it behind the curtains and filming is cut, you're engulfed in a hug by Dominik.

"Prima, that was so good!"

Liv walks up beside you, squealing. "That was awesome. I hope I didn't hurt you. I felt a few of those kicks connect."

"Nah, girl, you're good." As you pull out of the hug with Dominik, you high five the blonde. "The more believable it is, the more people will wanna watch you."

She laughs, calls you crazy, and then steps aside. The rest of Judgement Day congratulate you on a great intro, and then Rhea and Damian are there putting you in the middle of their group hug.

"Mate, that was awesome. I'm so glad I don't have to keep this secret anymore!"

"What? You knew?!" Damian demands. Both you and Rhea laugh.

"Where do you think I was sneaking off to?" Rhea muses. "Paul wanted to see what YN was capable of, so I was her opponent for the trial matches. Needless to say, everyone was impressed."

"Damn. I wish I could have been there," he says.

"And ruin the surprise? Never."

After your friends release you, your Tio hugs you. "I'm proud of you, mija. You were meant for this life and I'm glad to be a part of it."

Rey's words make you a little emotional and you have to laugh less you start ugly crying. "Thank you, Tio. I'm looking forward to what's to come."

As soon as your Tio releases you, you're spun around and yanked into yet another hug. "Damn, baby girl. No head's up?" You laugh as you hug Jey, this hug being long overdue. "Does this mean you're going to be on Raw?"

You shrug as you step back, but Jey keeps you close by tucking you under his arm. "A contract is still in the works," you say, reluctantly lying to your friends. Your contract was already locked in, but they didn't know that. "At first I didn't want to fight, I just wanted to be what essentially is a hype man on the sidelines, but Paul thinks I'm destined for more. I was scared to step on the toes of the females still waiting to be called up to the main roster, but Paul says he saw something in me worth taking the risk."

"Damn right he did," Jey says. "You're ballsy."

You smile up at him, letting him press a kiss to your forehead. "But anyway, for now I'll be stuck in the middle of my cousin and Tio, playing the distraught family member. They wanna gauge everyone's reaction to me and if I'm liked enough, they'll plant me into a storyline either on Raw or Smackdown."

"Yeet," Jey says, clearly excited. "Everything's coming together, baby. Now let's go check that phone of yours. I'm sure Jimmy and Roman are blowing it up as we speak."

Author's Note: Reader is a little ass kicker. This is very self-indulgent, so don't just me haha. Let me have this.

Spanish translations: Hermana - Sister. Mija - Darling (term of endearment family mostly uses for younger girl). Prima/Primo - Cousin. Pendenja/Pendejo - Stupid girl/stupid boy.

[akystaracer22]

Maybe in Another Life We Would Hate Each Other a Little Less

A chance encounter sheds a little light on Adam that Lucifer couldn't have predicted, leading to a moment he thought he'd never have with the man.

Notes (Aka my thoughts while writing):

God is a dick and I wanna kill xem

Adam folds his wings like a bird because monkey see monkey do

Both these guys were traumatised by the same person and we don’t talk about it enough

Probably Guitarduck/Adamsapple but in a fledgeling platonic kinda way

Refer to my ref for what Adam looks like!

I listened to Rät while writing this and- it kind of fits Adam???

Jesus is God’s favourite child and it fucking shows

How tf did this become a sickfic????

Lucifer gets the experience of being me whenever I make the impulsive move to boot up Char.ai and talk to literally any of the AI’s, get aunt agonied bitch.

Oh my god Adam has middle child syndrome.

Can you tell I attended a Christian school when I was younger???

Adam was hiding just how fucked over he was from the wing rot but he’s not having a good time in this. Most of the latter half of the oneshot is him dazed from both the one set of wing rot and the feeling of someone touching his wing.

Shit emergency wing HC for Adam ig: His wings grow warmer corresponding to his mood, as in when he is in general happier his wings radiate warmth and when he’s in a foul mood they’re just normal or even a little cooler.

In saying that yes Lucifer’s wings glow when he’s happy

Word Count: 1902

Fic under cut!

“Fucking- Shit!”

Lucifer paused, looking behind him and backing up to peek through the crack in the door. This ought to be good.

Sure enough, he was right, this was entertaining.

Adam was ranting again.

Honestly it was a nearly daily thing by this point, probably the only good thing about his daughters decision to let Adam stay at the hotel. He loved his daughter, he really did, by Adam was… Adam.

Lucifer knew he was a lost cause.

But still, didn’t mean Lucifer couldn’t tease the hell out of the man since he was stuck down here with the rest of them.

Lucifer’s smirk at watching the first man rant quickly died as he took in the guys appearance, he looked…

“What is wrong with your wings.”

Adam jerked and twisted around, scowling at him and oops he said that out loud didn’t he.

“Piss off!”

Lucifer, in his typical fashion, did not piss off and instead entered the room, “No seriously what is wrong with your wings.”

Now that he was closer, the king was certain they didn’t look like that a week ago. The feathers, while already having looked like a wreck were duller and the colours seemed almost… muted. Ignoring the already horrific state Adam’s wing were in, they shouldn’t look THAT bad so why…

“Wait-”

“I said-!”

“Have you not been preening you wings?”

Adam went silent, staring wide eyed at Lucifer much to the kings confusion. A beat passed, then two.

“What the fuck is preening?”

Lucifer blinked, he wasn’t serious, was he?

Surely not.

.

.

.

“By the heavens you’re dead serious.”

“What the fuck are you talking about.”

Lucifer debated whether he should explain it or not. On one hand, it’s Adam. On the other, Wings were a serious thing. He’d even seen Husker cleaning his wings from time to time, for Adam to just not know…

“You know what? For once my hatred of you is outweighed by my need to show you what’s what,” The fallen seraphim huffed, closing the door behind him and summoning a chair to block it from the outside so Adam couldn’t escape. “Come on we’re fixing this travesty.”

“What part of fuck off you do you not understand?!” The first man snapped, his wings mantling as Lucifer rifled through the closet, dragging out one of the many jars of oil he’d had the foresight to put in most of the rooms, perks of being a guy with basic common sense.

“The part where you’re being stupid and my daughter started rubbing off on me,” Lucifer shot back, his own wings serving well to corral Adam towards the bed, “How you don’t know how to preen your wings is beyond me but that’s ending today.”

“Again- what are you blabbering about.”

Lucifer paused, hand hovering just over Adams feathers. Preening someone elses wings was… intimate. It was something reserved for friends, family, lovers, and stuff… not enemies. Was he really going to just go ahead and clean Adams wings for him?

The seraphim’s eyes flicked over to where the ruined wing was draped over the bed. The wing was already in bad enough shape as it was, if he didn’t do this then wing rot was bound to hit it at some point and-

He didn’t really have a choice, not if he didn’t want to watch someone die of wing rot again.

Adam went stiff under Lucifers touch as he started work on the mans functioning wing, it was the easiest to work with, not the mention the safest to start with. The injured wing would no doubt be sensitive to any interaction, so better to start small.

Ish.

Adam shuddered as Lucifer moved between feather’s, periodically reapplying preening oil as he went. He was right as usual, looking closer most of the barbules had been separated and needed to be locked together again. Grimacing, the seraphim gently scratched out what looked like dried blood from where it was hidden in the base of Adam’s Secondary coverts.

“What are you doing?” Adam whispered, his voice for once lacking it’s usual bite. Lucifer paused for a second in confusion before Adam’s wing flexed back into Lucifer’s hand, “Don’t stop!”

“Okay okay!” The king huffed, working on his primaries, “What I’m doing is called preening. It’s something beings with feathers do to clean them.”

“Like birds?”

“Yeah, like birds,” Lucifer agreed, “The oil helps take care of bacteria, but you got to realign the feathers, get rid of the ones ready to moult, and fix the feathers that are out of sorts, though you can just shake the feathers to do that part quicker.”

“Mhm”

Lucifer shifted over to finally tackle the ruined wing and froze, a chill slinking down his spine. As he took in the state of the tattered appendage.

“Shit.”

This close the seraphim could see the red pimples under the thinning layer of feathers surrounding the injury, it was wing rot in its early stages.

“What?”

“Nothing!” Lucifer dove his fingers into the scapulars to shut Adam up while he discreetly conjured up some disinfectant for the rot, if he’s lucky he can treat it now and just get Charlie or Vaggie to deal with it now, knock it over the head before it becomes so visible the others can notice. He ignored Adam’s breath hitching as the seraphim started, just as predicted, the wing was sensitive from the damage done to it.

“But seriously you need to do this more, this is just horrific,” Lucifer grumbled to himself, not really caring if Adam listened, “Honestly I’m surprised this hasn’t happened to you before!”

“Mmmm tried once… I think?”

Lucifer, glanced at Adam’s face, it was pointed away from him, but he could still sense Adam’s attention was on him, “Yeah?”

“Saw the birds doin’ it and tried to copy ‘em,” Adam continued at the prompt, spreading his other wing, “It hurt so I stopped, didn’ know there was a method to this shit or someth’n.”

“You… nobody even tried to teach you?”

“I think they thought I knew,” Adam chuckled sourly, “I think they thought I fu’kin knew how to just- do this. ‘Cause I was meant to right?!” Another laugh, “I bit the fu’kin apple so I shou’da known this kinda shit! Apple of knowl’dge or what’ver.”

Lucifer, wisely, didn’t say anything, he just kept working on Adam’s ruined wing, applying the disinfectant, and fixing what few feathers were still healthy and removing the rest. If it was anyone else in this situation he’s wrap the wing and tell them to rest but… it was still Adam that was in this mess.

“I- why didn’t they teach me? Luci why didn’t they teach me this shit?”

“I… don’t know,” Lucifer replied carefully, deliberately skipping over the butchering of his name that sounded way to close to a nickname for comfort, “Come on, up you get he still got the underside to finish then I’ll be out.”

Adam grumbled but complied, sitting up a little to turn around as Lucifer summoned a pillow for Adam to lean back on. Rolling his neck Lucifer got to work on the auxiliary feathers, the lighter feathers were definitely in better shape, but then again that wasn’t exactly a high bar, and they still were looking rough.

“Jesus was prob’bly taught how to preen himself.”

Lucifer’s shoulders hitched as his wings tucked in against his back abruptly. Jesus… was a rough topic. For all sinners talked about him, Lucifer never met him but from the sinners around that time… it was never a fun conversation. Pretentious once kings cursing his name while hopeless commoners lined up for the exorcists blade, faithful until the end that Jesus would let them into heaven if they just believed in him.

… there was a pattern in there, wasn’t there. Like father like son, he supposed.

“Jesus was made from me and yet he’s God’s favourite fukin kid, course he’d fucking know how to preen,” Adam continued unimpeded, “Doesn’t matter if I was Gods first- Jesus was always fucking better than me.”

Okay! Lucifer was in no way prepared for this conversation, but he highly doubted Adam was even going to remember this conversation, so he just focused on the wings.

“…Luci, do they all hate me?”

Lucifer sincerely wished Anthony, or just anyone really would bust down the door at this moment, at least then he could get himself out of this conversation.

“Why do you think that?” the seraphim deflected, moving onto Adam’s good wing and going through his coverts.

“Because none of them ever fucking did this,” Adam waved his hand haphazardly before letting it rest on his chest, “You’re my enemy but you’re fixin’ my fu’kin wings because I’m too stupid and useless to just figure it out myself.”

“Not useless,” The words left Lucifer’s lips without his input, damn himself to double hell, but it managed to shut up Adam, so he kept on the thought train, “You’re not useless you were just never taught, it’s not your fault heaven doesn’t think.”

“Jesus-”

“Is God’s prodigal son and shouldn’t be counted.”

Adam huffed and leaned back on the pillow, “Why’re you good at this?”

“I’ve had aeon’s to learn, and over a decade of putting it in practice,” Lucifer thought about his daughter, a small smile making it’s way into his expression, she really was the best thing to happen to him.

He finished up with Adams good wing and moved onto finishing off the wrecked one. Applying the disinfectant to the infected spots on the underside before reaching for the preening oil again.

“Y’know, maybe in another life we would’ve hated each other less.”

Lucifer just laughed and started preening the wing, yeah right, maybe in a reality where the apple incident never happened, “You’re sick Adam, feverish even.”

“And you’re a wife-stealer.”

“Should have been better in bed.”

“Fuck you,”

Lucifer stuck his tongue out at the first man, earning a tired chuckle. Then the seraphim blinked at the sudden warmth radiating out from the feathers. What in the-?

“Oh… they haven’t done that in a while.”

Lucifer blinked up at Adam who was staring at his feathers in amazement, “Ackde-whuh?”

Adam leaned back and closed his eyes, “Yeah… sometimes they just get warm all of a sudden it’s weird. Hasn’t happened in a while though. Apparently it sometimes happened when Lute was around? I dunno why.”

Lucifer blinked a couple of times before letting out a small “huh” and running a hand through the ruined wing, it was definitely warmer.

Sighing, Lucifer let his hand fall away despite the wing chasing it, “Alright well your wings are definitely cleaner now, so I’ll be out of your hair now.”

The seraphim stood up to leave through the balcony, opening the window and almost stepping out when Adam called after him, still sounding exhausted.

“I can see why they left me for you.”

Lucifer paused, before smiling sardonically and looking back at Adam, who looked like he might have just passed out.

“Tell me that when you’re not delusional from illness and I might believe you.”

With that, Lucifer stepped out and left for his own room… though, if Adam woke up to a small plush duck on his nightstand, that was between Lucifer and the god that cast him down.

But there is one thing Lucifer will admit.

Maybe Charlie wasn't wrong about thinking Adam could be redeemed.

Pings:

@sleepy-hijinx @whatataha @cyborg0109 @birbisanon @legogator @overlord-rey @luckyburgerz @spiny-dogfishes @justakidicarus

[g1rld1ary]

you never disappointed me - part four

part one part two part three five

➻ synopsis: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader ; you agree to go to the Apollo party with luke, and the night is in no way what you expect (10 things I about you AU)

➻ word count: 4070

➻ warnings: ooc/kind of loser!luke, ooc silena, she/her pronouns used for reader, sexual innuendos, alcohol, smoking/weed, swearing, kissing

➻ this took yonks oops - hope u enjoy!! (it's a bit longer than all the others though so don't say I don't love u xx)

TAGLIST: @myxticmoon @wicca-void @leeknows-wife @thekittyxo-blog @number-onekidqueen @instabull @slaybestieslay946 @sflame15-blog @yourfavmiki @ivory-sage @caramelandvenus @chasebeth

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The night of the party, you were having serious doubts. You were just glad you hadn’t told Silena that you were considering going at all as she was already practically feral over not being allowed to go. It was times like this that you wondered how things would be if the two of you were closer — helping each other break the rules and have a social life rather than keeping each other on your father’s short leash, ratting each other out at each opportunity.

“Can’t you just be normal?” Silena whined, brushing out her hair and gazing longingly at the outfit she’d picked out for the event, sitting sad and unworn.

“Define normal,” You replied, not sparing her a glance over your novel. This was a well-rehearsed dance by now, and you both knew the steps by heart.

“The Apollo party is normal — leaving your bed for one Friday night is normal!” She cried, pulling far too roughly at her hair in frustration.

“That party is just an excuse for all the idiots here to drink smuggled alcohol and grind up against each other in futile hopes of distracting themselves from the pathetic emptiness of their—”

“Meaningless, consumer-driven lives.” Half the cabin joined Silena in her chorus and you stopped short. You didn’t know whether to be proud of your brand or offended that you’d become so predictable. Silena approached you, speaking quieter so that she was talking just to you and not the show that you usually put on for the rest of the cabin.

“C’mon, please? Just for one night, do this one thing for me? Please.” You hesitated. Silena looked unexpectedly sincere and you realised that the party really meant a lot to her. And, despite your best efforts, you thought of Luke. You thought of his pretty eyes and his dumb smile and his insistence on getting you to this party, and your resolve started to crack. One party couldn’t be that bad, right? It’s not like you were leaving camp, worst case it was always an easy trip back to your cabin. You inhaled deeply, sending your mom a silent prayer.

“I guess I can make an appearance.” The whole cabin erupted in cheers and disbelief. You hadn’t been to a Camp Half-Blood party since your very first one when you were fourteen years old, and not one of your siblings knew why. Silena especially was ecstatic, jumping about and pulling you into a tight hug. You didn’t know how to respond, the gesture of affection foreign between the two of you, but reluctantly wrapped your arms around her.

“Alright,” You ended the moment, “Let’s just go before I back out.” You stopped for a quick second in front of your own vanity, ensuring nothing was seriously wrong with your outfit before bidding the younger campers goodbye and opening the door.

And there, standing nervously in what might’ve been his nicest shirt, was Luke.

“What are you doing here?” You rushed out before you could properly process what was happening. You’d forgotten all about his promise to pick you up, and now the whole cabin would be eavesdropping.

“Nine-thirty, right? Ah,” He glanced at an imaginary watch, “I’m early.” You might’ve laughed a little if you weren’t so mortified at your siblings spying on you.

“Whatever. Let’s just go.” You pulled him along with you, unaware of his eyes glued to the place where your skin touched his. He tried to make conversation with you, willing both of you to return to the dynamic you had after the concert a few days prior, but your embarrassment had shut down any good humour you might’ve possessed. Already dreading the party again, you could feel yourself curling into yourself, but were powerless to stop it.

You were immediately reminded as to why you hated these parties, people you didn’t like only heightened by the substances floating around. It was held in one of the abandoned bunkers littered through the woods, only adding to the claustrophobic feeling with its dark walls and low ceilings. Plus, you were sure the few winding tunnels leading to other rooms would be hell to navigate when drunk.

You knew it was rude, but you lost Luke quickly. You were already uncomfortable enough here and had resigned to sticking out the night for Silena only, you really didn’t want Luke clinging to you all night and trying to ‘get some’ — or whatever his goal for your supposed date was. Your solitude didn’t last long though, as you rounded a corner to smack into Ethan. You scowled, trying to push past him, but he seemed determined to chat.

“Looking hot, Beauregard. You should get out of those camp shirts more often.” Your frown only deepened, hand itching to slap the shit out of him.

“Hey, wait — did your hairline just recede?” You almost laughed at the way his hand flew to his hair; Ethan White was undoubtedly more vain than any of the Aphrodite kids. You ducked around him, desperate to be anywhere else.

“Where are you going?” He called after you, shoving a younger camper out of the way.

“Away.”

“Your sister here?” You froze up, turning slowly towards the disgusting boy.

“Stay away from my sister,” You threatened, your meanest look painted across your face. Ethan only smirked, and it made you hate him more.

“Oh I’ll stay away from your sister, but I can’t guarantee she’ll stay away from me.” Your hand was raising to slap him down when one of his friends pulled him away to go spectate a fight. You supposed you were somewhat glad, Silena would definitely hate you if you hit him at a party, and the Apollo kids would definitely all be too hammered to treat any busted knuckles.

You’d hidden away with Clarisse for half an hour, a much needed respite from the torture that was all around you. You passed a blunt between you, giggling and gossiping, Luke’s name coming up more than once. You weren’t sure what to think of him, but you did know your social battery was absolutely dying, and you really weren’t in the mood to be there anymore. Your chat with Clarisse only ended when Chris approached her, asking for a dance. She looked to you for confirmation that it was ok and you waved her off, very much on board for whatever was blossoming between them. You wouldn’t say you liked Chris — you barely liked anyone — but of the campers around your age, he was on the better end of a terrible spectrum.

As you watched her go, a much more unfortunate sight caught your attention. Silena hanging off Ethan’s arm, one intention clearly in mind. You and Beckendorf appeared as parallels on opposite sides of the room, both wearing dismayed expressions, hearts sinking.

“Look who found me,” Ethan turned to you, cocky grin lighting a fire in your chest. He turned to go, pulling Silena with him, but you found your voice just in time.

“Silena, wait!” Your sister turned quickly, disgust evident.

“Can you not address me here?” She snapped and you were taken aback for a second.

“No, wait. There’s something I need to tell you,” You tried, but she was wholly unaffected.

“Look, I am busy enjoying my adolescence, so scamper off and do the same.”

“Bye bye,” Ethan added, and you really wondered how he was beat up so rarely.

You felt your heart sink, genuine worry for your little sister overtaking the annoyance that Ethan so often caused. You thought she would have at least heard you out when you were actually worried for her, but Silena never failed to disappoint you. Ok, maybe that was a bit mean. That didn’t stop you from wallowing in your own feelings and grabbing a shot from some guy who was handing them out.

“Right on, sister!” Travis Stoll exclaimed, cowering only slightly when you shot him a glare, downing the liquor as quickly as you could stomach.

“Hey, what’s this?” Luke came out of nowhere, putting one of the shot glasses you’d picked up back in Travis’ hands. “I’ve been looking all over the place for you.” You rolled your eyes, alcohol only fuelling your irritation.

“I’m getting trashed, man,” You mocked, “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do at a party?”

“I dunno. I say do what you wanna do,” Luke said, and it took everything in you to keep your resolve. Maybe getting crossfaded wasn’t such a smart idea.

“You’re the only one. Later,” You grumbled, pushing away from him while you still had your self-restraint. You just wanted this whole night to be over.

In the same moments, Beckendorf had just seen Silena without Ethan for the first time in a while, and hurried to talk to her.

“Hi, Silena,” He raised his voice to get her attention over the music.

“Oh, hi Beckendorf,” She seemed to be a million miles away, hardly listening to him, “Uh, you know Drew?”

“Um, yeah, I think we had Greek together once?”

“Great.” Drew looked supremely unimpressed. Beckendorf persisted.

“So, Silena, you really look amazing.” The compliment fell a bit flat when Drew raised an eyebrow and Silena looked like she’d rather be anywhere else. Ethan, having heard Beckendorf’s sad attempts, joined the conversation.

“We all know I look amazing,” He said, and Beckendorf didn’t know why both the girls giggled like it was in any way funny.

“C’mon, Silena. We’re all playing beer pong.” Silena finally spared Beckendorf a glance.

“I’ll see you around, okay?” She said, and Beckendorf managed a pathetic nod. As they retreated, Ethan couldn’t help but throw a cocky thumbs up his way, and Beckendorf felt his shoulders sag. After an awkward moment of silence between him and Drew even she left, and he was alone in the middle of the party.

You were similarly alone, having escaped Luke for some time, using the respite to get significantly drunker. You didn’t know exactly why, you’d never been one to get blackout for the sake of it. Maybe you were sick of being there, maybe you didn’t want to face all the emotions bubbling dangerously close to the surface. Maybe, as Silena would say, you were finally becoming ‘normal’. Regardless, you were hardly aware of what was going on anymore, finally feeling like the party wasn’t total dogshit. At least until Luke grabbed another shot out of your hand. What was with that?

“Why don’t you let me have this one, huh?” He asked, bringing it up to his own lips. You intercepted, downing it before he could stop you.

“No! That one was mine,” You whined impetuously. If you were aware of your actions you would have been horrified, you almost sounded like Silena. Luke, despite his worry, almost laughed. That was, until you started taking off, again. He really didn’t anticipate you to be a wandering drunk. Luke trailed after you into another room until Ethan stopped him in the doorway, looking delighted.

“My man! How’d you get her to do it?” He asked, a vaguely misogynistic air about him.

“Do what?” Luke replied, worried for the response.

“Act like a human.” They both turned to search for you, finding you somehow on top of a table, dancing in a way that was all hips and hair. Neither could deny it was pretty hot.

You’d already attracted a crowd, half interested in your sudden change of demeanour, the other half just appreciative of an opportunity to ogle a pretty girl’s body. Ethan was a member of both groups, yelling and whooping as you grinded against nothing, Aphrodite allure keeping all eyes on you. Luke rushed over to you, knowing if he sat by and watched as you did this while out of your right mind you would never forgive him.

Intending to just coax you down Luke ended up in a serendipitous moment of being in the right place at the right time, easily catching you when you toppled over, unbalanced from knocking your head on a light hanging from the ceiling. You landed squarely in his strong arms, looking up at him in a daze.

“Are you okay?” You heard him say, though he sounded much further away than he was.

“I’m fine,” You grumbled, trying to hop up but stumbling embarrassingly back into him. Luke took it in stride, carrying you bridal style until you were out of the bulk of the crowd. Setting you down gently he kept a hand securely around your waist, leading you through the bunker out a hallway.

“I just need to lie down somewhere,” You mumbled, clutching at your pounding head.

“Absolutely not. You lie down and you’ll go to sleep.” You smiled dreamily, something that Luke returned involuntarily.

“Sleep is good.” He barked out a laugh.

“Not if you have a concussion.”

You both paused in the middle of a hallway so you could sit at a chair conveniently placed as Luke searched for a glass of water. Instead he found Beckendorf. After several unsuccessful attempts to shoo him away, Luke gave up and let him talk.

“It’s off, okay? The whole thing’s off.”

“What are you talking about?” Luke asked, sparing a glance at you; obliviously playing with a strand of hair.

“She never wanted me. She wanted Ethan the whole time.” Luke resisted the urge to roll his eyes — he really, truly, did not care.

“Charles,” He said, “Do you like this girl?”

“Yeah,” Beckendorf sighed. Luke tapped his foot.

“Right. And is she worth all this trouble?”

“I thought she was. But, well—” Luke cut him off, truly frustrated with the inexperienced boy.

“Look, she is or she isn’t. First of all, Ethan isn’t half the man you are. Secondly, don’t let anyone ever make you feel like you don’t deserve what you want. Just go for it.” Luke lunged to catch you when you tipped out of the chair, a signal clear to even Beckendorf that the conversation was over. He spared the younger boy a smile before leading you away gently, murmuring promises of fresh air and feeling better. Beckendorf didn’t know what to do with Luke’s advice, but at least he wasn’t so mopey anymore.

You’d come out of your dream state back to being a little more sentient by the time you got outside, your personality returning.

“You’re so patronising,” You groaned, eyeing Luke’s hand supporting the majority of your weight.

“Leave it to you to use big words when you’re smashed,” Luke laughed slightly, removing his arms when you tried to shove them off, and snorting quietly when you tripped onto the grass.

“Why are you doing this?” You didn’t dare look at him.

“I told you, you might have a concussion. I might not be an Apollo kid, but I’ve had enough to know how to handle them.”

“You don’t care if I never wake up,” You laughed humourlessly, pushing your hair out of your face in a manner similar to that of a toddler. Luke grinned, eyes sparkling even in the dark outside.

“Sure I do.” You gave him a questioning look and he led you to a selection of flat-ish tree stumps around a clearing. “I’d have to start taking out girls who actually like me,” He explained and it was your turn to snort.

“Like you could find one.”

“See that, there? Who needs affection when I have blind hatred?” You laughed despite yourself, missing the way Luke lit up at the reaction. He helped you onto the seat, taking the one next to you. You looked over at him, unaware that the smile you thought was internal was clear as day on your face. Luke admired it, revelling in the fact that he was probably one of very few at camp who had ever seen it.

You two sat quietly for a while, making meaningless conversation — Luke told you stories you missed from the party and you regretted getting too drunk to see it all yourself.

“So why’d you let him get to you?” He asked eventually, and you cocked your head to the side.

“Who?”

“Ethan.” You groaned.

“I hate him.”

“Well you’ve chosen the perfect revenge; mainlining tequila.” You both laughed at that, and you hazily noted how good it felt to laugh with him.

“Well, you know what they say…” You joked, but Luke didn’t catch on.

“No, what do they say?” He asked with childlike innocence, but in an instant you’d slipped into sleep, comforted by the perfect summer night weather. Luke was up in a second, crouching in front of you, holding your face in both hands and frantically trying to wake you. If you’d been awake, you might’ve noted how intimate it felt. You only woke when he slapped you — lightly, but effective enough.

Gazing up at him through your lashes, you had something of an epiphany. You liked Luke. You didn’t know how you didn’t notice it before, or really how it had happened at all, but seeing him standing inches from you really brought things to light. You opened your mouth to illustrate this point, still not quite sober enough to have those reservations, but instead all that came out was “Your eyes have a little green in them.”

Luke’s face twisted from confusion to relief, lips perking up into a smile. You held eye contact for an extended moment, a foreign tension building between you both (as opposed to the old, comfortable tension you’d gotten used to when hating him). Then you threw up all over his shoes. You at least had the decency to be embarrassed about it, and Luke had the decency not to mention it, instead pulling you up to prepare for the journey of a walk back to your cabin.

Ethan had meanwhile cozied himself up between Silena and Drew, a hand over each girl’s shoulders.

“Some of us are staying out longer, going for a special swim in the lake. You in?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Silena looked up at him warily.

“My sister’ll freak if I’m not back in twenty,” She said. A lie, kind of. She didn’t actually think you were in any position to be worried about her at that moment.

“I don’t have to be back…” Drew nominated herself, cuddling in closer to Ethan’s side. He still persisted with Silena.

“One more chance…” He tried his best to be at his most attractive, but Silena was more than over the whole night.

“Oh, man. I can’t. Damn.” It was hardly believable, but Drew had decided that she wanted Ethan then, and she got what she wanted.

“That’s a shame.” She produced a saccharine smile. “Well?” Ethan held out an arm for her to take, and the two were already getting handsy on their trip down to the lake. Silena dreaded to think about the things that would be done there in the coming hours.

“Have fun tonight?” A voice asked from behind her. Beckendorf sounded accusatory, and honestly Silena couldn’t even blame him.

“Tons,” She lied, wrapping her arms around herself. He stalked past her and Silena was about to leave him be when she was struck by a realisation.

“Charles?” She called, and Beckendorf dutifully turned to face her despite his obvious angst. “Do you think you could walk me back? I don’t have a weapon and the forest really freaks me out.” Silena fully expected him to refuse, and wouldn’t have blamed him for it in the slightest, but moments later they were walking side by side along the dark path.

There was tense silence between them for a while before Beckendorf finally gathered the courage to break it.

“You never wanted to go out with me, did you?” He asked, and the earnest directness of the question shocked her.

“Yes I did,” Silena lied, trying to be nice.

“No you didn’t,” He refuted bluntly.

“Well, okay, not actually—”

“Then that’s all you had to say!” He cried, and she really did feel badly about upsetting him. “Have you always been this selfish?” He could barely hear her whispered “Yes.”

“Just because you’re beautiful, doesn’t mean you can treat people like they don’t matter. I mean, I really like you, okay? I defended you when people called you conceited, I helped you when you asked me to. I learnt how to weld for you! And then you blow me off for—”

Without thinking, Silena grabbed his face in her hands, pressing a kiss to his lips. It was innocent, sitting on his lips for a few seconds before pulling away, both teenagers sporting matching blushes. Silena gave him a quick smile before hopping up the steps and safely into the Aphrodite cabin. Beckendorf managed to wait until he was safely alone to celebrate, a dorky little dance and an excited fist pump.

Your night didn’t follow quite the same trajectory. You’d been walking with Luke for what felt like hours, your tired brain and feet unwilling to finish the journey. However, it was the same easy conversation that you’d started to enjoy with Luke more often.

“I should start a band, I always wanted to — my father would love that.” You’d approached the cabins from the back, and the two of you had stopped near the rear wall, still hidden away out of sight and earshot.

“You don’t strike me as the type to ask your father for permission,” He said, leaning against the wood panelled wall.

“Oh, so now you think you know me?” You raised an eyebrow, standing opposite to him with your back to the woods.

“I’m getting there,” He replied, and his earnestness caught you off guard. You talked through your nerves.

“The only thing people know about me is that I’m ‘scary’.”

“Yeah, well, I’m no picnic either.” The tension crept back again as you looked at each other, but Luke pushed through it. “So, what’s with your dad? Pain in the ass?”

“No,” You conceded, “He just wants me to be someone I’m not.”

“Who?”

“Silena.” You couldn’t help the edge of bitterness that infiltrated your voice, and Luke suddenly understood a lot more about you.

“No offence or anything, I mean, I know everyone’s obsessed with your sister. But… she’s not all that.” You stared at him, unable to withhold the small smile that had crept onto your lips. No one had ever said that before.

“You know, you’re not as vile as I thought you were.” You leaned in, eyes fluttering closed. You could feel Luke’s hot breath mixing with yours, and another fraction of an inch and you’d be…

Luke’s hands were on your shoulders suddenly, softly moving the two of you apart.

“Maybe we should do this another time,” He said. Your eyes opened with a start, and you could feel red hot blush unfurling up your neck and onto your cheeks. In an instant your hardened expression was back more than ever, and you stomped past him up to your cabin, humiliation churning in your stomach, replacing any alcohol that might’ve lingered as you suddenly felt stone cold sober.

Luckily Silena and your younger siblings were all asleep by the time you returned, and the older ones were all off doing who-knows-what, so you effectively had the cabin to yourself. When you lay down in your bunk, makeup still on and shoes barely kicked off, you sobbed. You cried like you hadn’t in a long time, feeling stupid and ridiculous and hardly like a daughter of Aphrodite. You could only imagine what your mother would think of the mortifying display, and cried even harder.

[callooopie]

Modern!Jacaerys Velaryon headcannons (pt. 1)

Yeah my boyfriend’s pretty cool, but he’s not as cool as me — Brooklyn Baby // Lana Del Rey

I look away from my TV for one second only to look back and see Jacaerys mewing at me while a deadly and violent war is being discussed

You meet at a college party. Definitely. He looks like a party girl. Jace Targaryen(?) (Targaryen? or perhaps Strong in this modern world? Certainly not Velaryon, as I would assume Rhaenyra would have a choice of who she married in this world) gives off either reliable fratboy energy, or kind and quiet student you sit by in your class (He shows you his notes if you missed something. He gives you his number too—just in case you had questions!) Is the type to silently sneak glances at you during lectures. Maybe you even catch him staring once?

Meeting his family is.. overwhelming. On one hand it’s big. Like really big, a little confusing sometimes. On the other hand? Why’s everyone so hot? What are these genes?! His mom, his dad, his half-family members, his friends?!?! You’re sitting there at the family function like ?!?!

Speaking of family—he’s a big family guy. He loves his mom and his dad, he adores his brothers, he tolerates his half-uncles and whatnot. Jacaerys shows you to his mother in her office, and to his father doing work around the house. I believe he would be the type to wrangle and line up his brothers for you and go down the line introducing them. “This here’s Luke, aaand little Joffrey. They shouldn’t give you any trouble—Joffrey’s a little brat though..”

(Joffrey runs up to you and tells you to say skibidi gyat rizz before running off in a fit of giggles—) “…yeah—sorry ‘bout that. He’s in a phase right now..”

When you first meet his mom and dad as only “Jace’s friend” (Rhaenyra and Harwin.. </3) they are ecstatic to meet you. They think you’re lovely! Hip!—is that what the kids are saying these days? Rhaenyra has a knowing look on her face as Jacaerys reminds her that you’re only a “friend” and Harwin goes along like “Oh yeahhh… Jace’s friend.. riiiight” (the label of friend was gone in a week at most. Instead of “Jace’s friend” you were now “Jace’s girlfriend/boyfriend”) his parents saw it coming a mile or two away they weren’t surprised. And they hope you come around more often for dinners and things.

Jace is in a band (with Davos OOP) and Cregan (this dude.. graduated like a year or two before them and they all still hang out?), along with a few others. What? Oh yeah—they do little gigs and stuff. He plays bass, kinda the glue of the team if you catch his drift.. it’s tough work but anything to pursue musical passion right? (“Band practice” consists of smoking weed and watching shitty YouTube videos in a garage. They can and do play though so.. you guess it works?)

If you tag along with that merry bunch.. please know you’re babysitting now (mainly Jace and Davos. Cregan disappears but reappears when needed most—“kinda his thing”) think of the most stupidest thing two college-age guys could do… and go stupider. Breaking into abandoned buildings, arson, meeting the most suspicious plugs in the pitch black woods or sewers. Not how you’d imagine your Friday night to be spent but here you are. “This guy said he had something CRAZY.. and only for $20–that’s a deal in today’s economy.”

That’s his silly side. Normal every Jacaerys is serious. It’s almost a little off-putting. He’s very reserved as well, although with you there’s some cracks in that stoic facade. He’s the type to have a smile tug on his lips if you take a “sneaky” video or photo of him. Maybe while you both are in a study room and you just need something for a Snapstreak or insta story. Who else should be caught on camera than Jace as he’s deep into a textbook, twirling a pen between his fingers while swiveling side to side in a chair. “Hm? ..what’re you looking at girly? ..me? Pfft—shut up..”

I believe Jace would be the type to have a wide range of music he listens to. Only him. From alternative indie to folk to heavy metal to edm. He’s got range, he’s got tastes. He totally has a vinyl collection (yes it’s by a window and yes there’s plants near it)

Outrageous closet. Not in a bad way, in a really really good way. Probably the best dressed man you’ve ever seen. Things that shouldn’t work together for an outfit, work on him and only him (It’s like the Rhianna effect—an outfit looks ugly on someone else, but on Rhianna? It looks amazing. Iconic) the other way to describe his fashion sense is he dresses like a character from JoJo’s bizarre adventure. If there was an enemy stand user—it’d be Jacaerys.

His bedroom makes you believe in men again. It’s so nice, so cozy and smells so good. Blankets are always cooled, there’s just a sense of security around. HOWEVER. His pillows fucking suck. He’s the type to not replace anything like that unless absolutely necessary. They’re flat, dead, and make your hair slightly oily. He has a mountain of pillows but what good is that if they’re all lacking in support?! “I can open a window if y’want—it gets pretty hot in here sometimes. Hm? What’s up? My pillows? …it’s fine- they’re fine, look at them. You know how expensive-“

Everything bad about Davos’s car? Forget about it! Jace puts pride into his car. He cleans it regularly (Saturdays are for car deep cleaning, no exceptions) His parents did buy it for him for his 16th birthday. However he’s kept it in a very good condition so. Some stickers will be on the back, but it’s usually like “her body her choice” or “go for green energy” ..based Jace. (If perhaps Rhaenyra is a political figure in this modern world.. you bet your ass Jace is gonna have a campaign sticker for his mom on his car) “Just right over here is my car—lemme get your door. It’s okay if you get it dirty, I’ll just clean it… —although be careful—“

Speaking of cleaning his car—he will ask you to help him sometimes. Mainly in the summer, when you’re more likely to be wearing an outfit consisting of the smallest and tightest jean shorts and either a tank top or a bikini top. It’s a little hard to wash a car when he’s gripping the sponge tightly and letting his eyes rake down your body—what? No he wasn’t staring. He was looking at something past you. What’s that in his pants? See now you’re just being mean about it—

While Jacaerys partakes in a cigarette now and then, he’s more partial to alcohol. I feel he wouldn’t like the idea of smoking (It’s just things with lungs y’know? ..plus I don’t wanna die before that fucker Davos—“). Jace is a fiend with how he hoards bottles or drinks. Beers, hard alcohols, etc. Dude knows how to throw a whole bottle back like it’s nothing. He keeps a collection of empty bottles for fun (in his closet so his parents don’t find it) or if he lives alone they’re just freely out and around (or maybe still in the closet). “Whaaat? Slow down? Pfft—please, I’m good. Nah this is like water to me now. Have you ever had this?”

[williamvapespeare]

oops i wrote a Payneland first kiss ft. the aftermath of a probably horrible case, Charles being a little bit hysterical, and Edwin being a gentle little bitch Charles is happy to see him. He really, really is. He’s so chuffed it feels like his whole body is fizzing with energy and his head is pounding with something that might be pain or might be relief. And his grip on Edwin’s shoulders is only half meant to keep himself upright. It’s also because Edwin is properly, actually here in front of him, as solid as anything gets beneath Charles’ fingers these days. 

He doesn’t think he’s stopped grinning since Edwin hauled him upright. 

“Edwin,” he says, and can’t quite piece together anything better than, “you bloody genius!” 

And then Charles surges forward and kisses him. He’s aiming for Edwin’s cheek but he’s a little giddy and his eyesight is still a bit blurry and he ends up with his lips pressed to the corner of Edwin’s mouth. 

He feels more than he sees when Edwin startles at the contact, but doesn’t think he has it in him right now to pull back for a talk or a scolding or, god forbid, a lecture on impetuous behaviour. So, he tightens his hands around Edwin’s shoulders and tugs him in a little ways, until their foreheads are pressed together. Edwin blinks a few times and Charles feels his eyelashes flutter against his own cheek. 

“You did it!”. He can hardly believe the words as he speaks them and he keeps kind of laughing in little bursts of uncontrollable giggles. “I thought I was going to - that you were - I can’t even really -” 

Edwin, who has been relaxing against him by careful degrees, finally jolts into action and brings an arm up around Charles’ shoulders. 

“It’s alright,” he says, which Charles thinks is pretty thick for someone as smart as Edwin because of course he’s alright! Edwin just single-handedly swooped in and saved the day and dredged Charles up from the bottom of a literal and metaphorical hole and now he’s got his arm around Charles, close enough that each of his unnecessary breaths stirs the curls around Charles’ ear. He’s a lot fucking more than alright. 

Edwin’s hand starts to rub little circles between his shoulder blades. It feels nice.

“Mate,” he tries again. “You are…” but he doesn’t quite know what Edwin is other than the most important person in the world and, anyway, he can’t finish the sentence because Edwin cuts him off in a tone that Charles still thinks is far too serious for the situation. 

“Charles, you seem a touch, well.” A slight pause. “For lack of a better word, hysterical.” 

Is he hysterical? Charles doesn’t think so, but then again he’s never been great at thinking things through properly at the best of times. 

“Also, I must ask.” Charles’s eyes are only centimeters away from Edwin’s, and he watches Edwin squeeze his close. Eyelashes flutter together. “Did you mean to kiss me?”  

Charles blinks once.

“Uh,” he says. “Yeah, mate.” 

The hand on his back tightens, fingers gripping the fabric of his polo and that feels pretty good too, like Edwin is clinging to him with all the same desperation swirling up inside Charles. Like maybe he’s something solid even when he feels as insubstantial as ghosts can get. 

“Well,” Edwin says, finally, with a posh little sniff like he’s right fucking pleased with himself. “That is good to know.” 

Charles collapses against him, eventually, when he finally starts breathing steadier and the heavy weight of exhaustion settles over his shoulders. When the giddy adrenaline leaves him feeling a little more cracked open than he’d like. Edwin just gathers him close with the same possessive gesture as his hand. 

There’s a soft brush of lips against his temple. He smiles into the collar of Edwin’s coat and lets himself drift, warm and soft and held together

[magnificentstrawberryomen]

bound to break (jolly karlsson x reader one shot)

cw: just angst oops

iwas incredibly proud of him, don’t get me wrong.

i loved his dark eyes sparkling with passion whenever he hit the stage and hit the first snares of his guitar. the concentrated, serious frown and expression he carried during the entire performance, whilst i knew more than anyone how much he was beaming on the inside, like a burning sun filled with passion, radiating to the instrument he’s playing.

but it hurt as well. it hurt that he had to chose between two of the things he loved the most; me, and his career. i wish i could’ve put it differently that night when it all went wrong—wrong for my heart now still desperately aching for him, needing him. for him to come home and wrap his arms around me like a safe heaven, singing me softly asleep, as he noticed i was close to drifting away but just needing to hear his calm and warm voice against my ear, the only thing that made me sleep fully and peacefully.

but i needed to break the silence, the painful eating silence between us whenever we were together and i just had to sit and watch him still being occupied by work instead of holding me like he always used to when he had days off.

“y/n, please. you can’t make me choose—”

“i’m not making you chose, joakim. or at least, i don’t want you to, but… i’m trying to explain to you that that i find it very hard to see you less and less, and now that you’ve just gotten back for three days you have to leave again!”

“i know!” he had yelled back, in frustration, in sadness. “i know, and it’s not like i like it either! but this is an opportunity we as a band have to take, you understand that right? we haven’t been able to play like this for y—”

“i never said i didn’t!” my voice breaks in a hoarse whisper, heart close to breaking as i interrupt him, ‘cause i knew where this conversation would end up to. it was bound to happen for a while now, and we were both tired. tired, yearning for each other every single day, yet our needs never got met. and it destroyed us, slowly but steadily, like a wall between us about to crack with each time we saw each other, waiting to get broken by either of us.

“but you understand that this situation becomes tiring for me, right? joakim, i barely see you and it becomes less and less, shorter and shorter. i miss you, i miss us—i miss who we were and could be!”

a silence is followed, only our ragged breathing being heard in the room around us, and jolly looks at me with a saddening frown, and i know i have the same look at my face, just more frustratedly and tired.

“what are you saying exactly, y/n?” he then asked after a moment, stepping slightly closer, a messy strand of hair escaping from his half up bun that i’m tempted to brush away behind his ear, but i keep both my hands to my side.

“what i’m saying is… i don’t know anymore how we can still make this work between us. i want to, truly, and you know that—but… it’s getting tiring. it’s getting tired to miss my other half, and him not even being with me when we’re together. even at home you’re constantly wrapped up in work, and i can just sit here and watch in silence waiting for you to leave your damn office and become known of my existence again.”

the memory of that night is painful. painful especially when i lay in bed at night, staring at the ceiling, the fabric of the sheets and mattress feeling extra cold now that he is not there anymore to make it warm and comfortable, safe and nice to lay in—i wasn’t able to sleep for weeks after we decided to take a break and see where life would lead us, if the road of this hectic life would take us back together or not.

so far, it didn’t. it seemed like jolly didn’t even want to take the first step. and maybe that was because of his busy schedule, maybe it was because i was too afraid of the reality peeking around the corner and watching me, watching me like a hawk to remind me all of this was never going to work out again, so i didn’t take the first step either. the only way i was in some sort of contact with him, was through a tv screen, watching him perform in a small intimate venue, which was a huge difference from the festival his band had played the night before, and just in general. they were getting more and more successful each day.

i would watch with tears stinging in my eyes, feeling both utterly heartbroken but so proud of him as well. because i knew be belonged to that stage, along with his friends, his brothers, creating music so special, inspiring and important for others with the passion clearly rushing through his body, the body that one held me with so much love and joy, that i couldn’t be mad at him anymore.

because i couldn’t take this type of love and joy from him either, because he was clearly made for this and the stage—and it hurts that he was not made for me, and a life together, after all.

[kalifornia1025]

The Three Students Pt. 1 (SPOILERS)

Alright, pt.1 reaction notes let’s get started!

Ooooh okay, sneak peek at what's to come for Sherlock! Very interesting…

I knew I KNEW Archie was gonna be “in trouble” for this episode based on the patreon newsletter!! Honestly good on John for having a whole Sherlock-esque deduction monologue about Archie being guilty (unfortunately he’s rather wrong later on)

Oooh so that’s how they end up at Oxford! Because Sherlock was asked to be a speaker! Good for him

I so get the huge difference between speaking publicly because you have to vs getting really into talking about your special interest. Same Sherlock, I getcha.

‘Autistic man turns down offer to speak to room full of people’ ngl this is a MOOD (as an autistic woman myself!)

LESTRADE MENTION!! John is so right in saying Lestrade would be putting in a lot of work to let people like Sherlock (consulting detective - not a CERTIFIED one), himself (doctor from Swindon), and Mariana (accountant from Sociedad) legally take on serious criminal cases so it’s only fair Sherlock returns the favor for that. 

Sherlock, you framed the DOG for your crimes! You’re a good consulting detective but an unhinged criminal

John you’re SO SALTY over Spain’s victory in the Euros, YOU get over it!

‘Nerd alert’, ‘Got half a mind to give you a wedgie’ of course YOU’D be a bully jock John, why am I not surprised?

Cracked open a beer already? Played Madonna late into the night? John, are you okay??

Oop, Mariana lore? 

I weirdly find John’s little chuckle cute when he’s asking Mariana what she did

Mariana, you did WHAT?? John no, that was NOT a ‘goodun’!

JRR TOLKIEN MENTION!! Been a huge Lord of the Rings fan lately

John, you’re a little TOO excited about a pub being there…

‘Wankfest’? John you said that in the same sentence as Sherlock’s speech….the speech sounds fine for now but my gut’s telling me the final draft is gonna SUCK

‘Sherly sense’ John I both love and hate you for that

Okay but shoutout to Adam Jarrell for having a BLAST with that voice acting! I certainly found it delightful

And there it is! Sherlock, you will find yourself in the middle of a case ANYWHERE

I'll say this: I love how this podcast takes the classic acd cases and reinvents them to make them make more sense in the modern day setting! The irony of a mysterious crime being committed for a Criminology controlled assessment is perfect, and honestly a step up from the original being about a Greek exam.

Sherlock: “I will take on the case, you have my word that-“ Soames: “What about the speech?” Sherlock: “…I forgot about that”, Sherlock why do you do this to yourself?

Oh John…you’re gonna become a frat boy, aren’t you?

HE IS!! JOHN YOU MESSY PERSON (I still love you <3)

Drunk John calling Mariana ‘Mrs. Hudson’ is cute to me for some reason

VODKA?! Oh he was PARTYING partying. John, why do you do this to yourself??

Oh no, poor Sherlock’s nervous!

And that’s all for part one! I REALLY really like when the podcast reinvents classic cases to have it make more sense in regard to the realistic modern day circumstances like why they’re ACTUALLY there and what case coincidentally comes up for them to solve! Also guys…I’m kinda getting worried for John. Dude hasn’t been sleeping well in the last episodes and now the alcohol is becoming more frequent for him. Am I the only one on this??

[bucknastysbabe]

Criston being Alicent and Viserys daughters sworn sheild and because hes unhealthily obsessed and she has whole family issues shes into it and they make plans to run away to essos before the war breaks out

The Gray Area - Ser Criston x Reader

Yes! YESSSSSS! ORANGES also I’m taking some serious civil liberties apologizes very much, also mayhaps reusing a character oops but they’re obsessive and crazy and I felt like it fit the dynamic

Prequel: Just like you

Rating: Explicit

Tags: So many emotionsssss, rough sex, aggressive verbal arguments, guilt and shame that comes with being a Targ, Criston questions his life, pnv!sex, oral, THEY LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER IN ESSOS THE END OKAY SOMETIME YOU GOTTA CUT OFF THE TOXICITY, she finally comes to terms w emotions

Inside the eerie melted castle, Criston slammed his hand down on the table in your shared quarters where you’d draw up plans. The brunette hissed, “We need to march south! The blacks have probably befouled the waters and Aemond is flying around charring the place! With that hoary bitch of his!”

You picked your teeth, staring at him blankly, armor off for the evening. Your dragon was feasting on bodies outside in the pits. “Then why don’t we just march south anyways? I’m of age with Aemond, we don’t have a fucking king per-say anyways.”

Criston leveled you with those dark eyes, “Aemond and Daeron are still in line.” You spat at him, “One-eye whose burning half the realm and Daeron, while valiant, a child. What the fuck are we even fighting for? Our heads on spikes?”

He exhaled through his nose, jaw twitching and clicking. Criston’s hair had grown out, even had some grays in it now, crinkling around his handsome eyes. You rolled onto your side, exposing your pale and scarred body. The knight’s eyes lingered upon your perky teats, hands digging into the table.

You hummed, “If we go south tomorrow, without the aid of Vhagar and just me on Skysinger, what’s our chances? They have the rivermen, that Crazed Blackwood. Winter’s Wolves. We’d meet them at a ridge,” she glared, “You always told me to find the high ground. Which would only be me.”

Criston stripped off his plated armor in jerky motions, face wrought with something. You turned onto your back, staring at the black ceiling. “I find that this ‘dance’ they have so deemed is destroying the realm. Over whether a vengeful cunt or wet rat should hold the throne. What’s the godsdamn point?”

He barked, “Honor! This is your family! We fight for who we are sworn to! What has gotten into you?”

“Oh fuck you and your honor Ser! Your cape should be black by now, you can’t pick and choose what constitutes honorable behavior! Fighting to your demise, so honorable, fucking Targaryen cunt you’re not allowed to sully is allowed though! You don’t even know what you want! Putting a drunk on the throne and if not him then my lovely brother who has knocked up a Strong bastard, which started half of this bullshit in the first place!”

Criston’s body slammed atop of you, pinning your skinny wrists to the rickety bed. He glared you down, spittle hitting your face as he seethed, “Do you ever shut your fucking mouth? Hateful, selfish wench.”

You heaved underneath him, thoroughly pinned, half expecting to get a bloody nose. But Criston just stared, nostrils flaring. In the softest tone your raspy voice could muster you asked, “Do you remember after Helaena died?”

He paused, deep pools of brown flickering away.

“Deep in your cups,” you nosed along his stubbled jaw, “You told me one time you thought of running away. Go to Essos and make a living. Away from my family’s shite. But she said no, made you the fool for it.”

Criston relaxed some, slotting himself between your skinny thighs, face melting into your neck. “I don’t want to die tomorrow. Not like this,” you said, voice horridly cracking. “They’ll rain arrows down on my child, I won’t have Vhagar as backup.” Criston’s jaw gritted against your thin skin, hands loosening your wrists to glide down your flat waist.

“I- would die by your side. With honor, for once,” Cole murmured. Wetness gathered at the junction of your neck and shoulder. You rubbed a hand down his wide back, feeling numb. Gods you hated crying. Hated it with your whole being. This war was driving you slowly insane.

You reiterated like a idiotic mummer, “Criston. Please don’t make us march tomorrow. We could hold down Harrenhal and wait out a siege. Or we leave tonight. On my dragon, go to Essos, start a mercenary company. How many of them have a dragon hm? There’s no honor in this war. It’s kinslaying.”

Tears leaked down your cheeks, chest involuntarily heaving. The Dornish knight leaned up, eyes red as he studied you. You pushed back his thick hair, unable to conjure any more words. What you wanted was out in the open now. He murmured, “Stop your tears, I raised my Princess better than that.”

He wiped them away with a calloused thumb, eyes soft. You wrapped your legs around him, arching into his tight body, rubbing against his swelling member. You growled, “If you’re leading me to my death then might as well have a good last fuck.” Your lover flipped you over roughly, big hand pinning your nape down to the bed. He slapped your ass, grunting, “You Targaryen whores are all the same. Fucking selfish.”

He thumbed your wet cunt, pinching roughly at your swollen clit. You cried out, unable to move as he seized your long limbs again, one big hand holding them tight. Criston aligned with your sex, thrusting in with a wet slap. He groaned, you knew the face by heart now, lips lax, eyes rolling up. Gorgeous.

Meanwhile his girth split you open easily, nudging up against your cervix, stretching out your ridged insides. He never took his time to get you acclimated, fucking into you rough and quick, hips slapping together. You cried out, tits rubbing against the tough fabric of the bed. Your hair fell in your face, swinging everywhere.

Criston rumbled, “You run. I die a warriors death. If I saw you dead I wouldn’t go on, fucking crone’s teats.”

“Come with me, I cannot live without you, you die a warriors death with a pocketful of gold, a manse, orange fields, and living life on- fuck- oh Criston baby- on your own terms!”

His hips stuttered, a hand sliding to your sternum to pull you upright, biting and licking at your neck, cock still hammering away. Desperately you cried, “My sworn shield, my knight, lord hand, I love you.” The brunette’s hips stuttered at your admission, big hand taking you passionately into a kiss. Your lips slid against eachother, teeth clinking until his tongue claimed authority over your own.

You rocked back onto his cock, growling, “I love you I love you I love you, run away with me, fuck all of this, what have they done for us? It’s always been us Criston, the puppets! We make the rules!”

Criston bit down on your lip, drawing blood while his thick fingers plucked at a budded nipple. You oozed around him, lost in fantasy and that sickening feeling of love. Your knight moaned, “We leave tonight, land outside of Norvos or Lorath, stay away from the Triarch. We cannot return.” He half-whimpered after a ragged breath, “I love you, more than anything I’ve ever known. Enough to send me to the seven hells a happy man.”

His left hand slid from your tit to bruisingly gripping your throat, squeezing those vessels until you saw spots, bucking on his prick like a wild foal. You wheezed his name over and over, until he let go, you convulsing and sloppily wetting his cock with another desperate declaration of love.

He pulled out with a broken cry, splattering your ass and thighs with hot seed. Criston immediately pulled you into his strong arms again, dark eyes dead serious. He hissed, “We leave. We don’t come back. There’s no more honor except in gold.”

You nodded, eyes watering from everything happening so fast. “We leave tonight. Aemond’s their leader. No honor except in gold.”

Aemond Targaryen had just settled Vhagar outside of Harrenhal, coming to lay with his lady Alys. He’d been burning all day, the stench of it soaking his essence. Curling into her arms he missed his twin’s familiar dragon taking off into the night, a dirtied white cloak flying in the wind.

It wasn’t easy the first few months. The pair of you constantly wondering if you made the right decision. Mourning over your family. Westeros in ruins kept you both away. The grief was tucked away and put forward into starting your company. A Westerosi Knight and Targaryen dragonrider garnered much attention on the other continent.

You’d found it tedious and boring at first, Criston calming your moods with fucking you stupid or eating your cunt until you’d about ripped his hair out. Eventually you’d struck a deal with a Qohorik nobleman who needed his caravan’s to be protected. Simple work.

That turned into bigger and bigger projects, Westerosi exiles even coming to join your company. You’d eventually named it The Honorable Company, as a jab to your not so well-intentioned beginnings. Tyrosh, Volantis, even some Ghiscari had hired your swelling ranks. Skysinger had grown bigger and more vicious, hatching a clutch at her preferred nest still outside of Qohor, where your manse would be built.

No letters ever came from your family, just hearsay on a regency. It hurt too bad to dwell on it. But the dance should have never occurred and you and Criston alike made sure to honor them in a quiet sept downstairs. Your company had grown big enough that there were levels and ranks now.

Then you fell pregnant. You would name him Aemond, after that stiff lipped asshole you dearly loved, as did Criston. The grayish egg in his cradle hatched, Criston smiling in ecstasy. You felt one of those annoying tears fall down your face.

“Do you think I’ll be a good woman like Alicent? A mother regardless of how fucking insane we all were?”

Criston’s face drew grim and he wrapped his arms around your figure, murmuring into your jeweled ear, “I think so. Might need to loosen these shoulders a bit. You’ll be great.” You kissed those pretty lips and cried, full on cried. Finally broken down from the hatred, guilt, fury, and shame. Then like a phoenix you’d arise anew, softer and ready for the world. As a mother and wife. Also dragonrider with a penchant for murder. But hey, that’s what Targaryen’s did.

The little dragon curled around Aemond’s babbling frame, snoozing already. You smiled, Criston behind you.

[minecraftbookshelf]

Adventures in Grian-Napping

Yakety Sax plays overhead.

Limited Life Session 3 Urban Fantasy AU not-quite-crack but definitely not serious either

Thanks to @crabbbage and @possiblyawesometmblr for the inspiration!

1.9k words

On AO3

-

"Grian's in a coma!"

Scott almost dropped his coffee when Martyn came flying through the front door, grinning like a madman.

"You know when Pearl moved out," he started, carefully re-balancing his armload of coffee and paperwork. "She left her key. Because she doesn't live here anymore. Because she has somewhere else to live. Just something to consider."

Martyn just looked at him like he was stupid. "Pearl doesn't use the front door, she comes in the window. You complain about it every time." He reached for the coffee pot on the bar and Scott batted his hands away.

"It's rude." He said defensively, taking a sip of his coffee to avoid having to answer any further. Martyn didn't say anything, just watched.

"You also have somewhere else to live. Somewhere you lived before, even."

Martyn tried for the coffee pot again.

Scott dropped his bag to grab it first. "Oh my GOD! Would you stop that‽ I made it, you should know better."

Martyn slunk back a step with an overly dramatic sulk. "You let Cleo eat your food."

"Cleo is undead and therefore immune to faerie food." Scott dumped the contents of the pot down the sink. "You, however, are not. You'd think twice would be enough."

"What can I say, I'm a glutton for punishment." Martyn hopped back towards him. "Anyway, that's not what I'm here for. Grian is in a coma."

Scott left the coffee pot in the sink and gathered back up his work things before making another try for the front door. "That's so sad, I'll send a card to the hospital."

"Oh no no no," Martyn shook his head. "Not that kind of coma, he's not in the hospital. He's on Joel and Timmy's sofa." He clearly thought this meant something, looking at Scott expectantly.

Scott just rolled his eyes up at the ceiling. "When will my husband return from the war and take you back off my hands?" He paused. "And by husband I mean Ren and by war I mean his communing with the moon and the wilderness werewolf thing."

"It's a two month retreat," Martyn said immediately. "He'll be gone for three more weeks."

A deep sigh and he looked back down. "Alright, I'll bite. What is going on with Grian and why do we care?"

"Wow, that's cold. Grian is in a coma because, according to Timmy," and Martyn made the most dramatic air quotes Scott had seen in awhile. "Grian said 'Oops, just a second, the gods are trying to take me back.' And then flopped over into his breakfast."

Scott mentally filed that away in his What the Actual Fuck is Up With Grian folder. "Okay, so again, why do we care?"

"We should steal him."

Scott should have kept the rest of the coffee, risk to Martyn be damned.

"We need to hurry though, Cleo, Scar, and Bdubs are already trying for it."

Of course they are.

-

It took them nearly half an hour to get to Joel and Jimmy's place because Martyn couldn't fly and Scott refused to carry him. No matter how many times he almost got run over jaywalking. Pearl was perched in the window by the door when they got there, her wings twitching behind her occasionally to balance. Scott stopped at the threshold and exchanged a look with her that only felt a little bit awkward. (They were doing better, even if they weren't quite back to the level of friendship they'd had before the soulmates debacle.)

"What's happened so far?"

Pearl grinned. "Scar has been baby-talking him, Cleo is hovering ominously, and-"

"STOP TRYING TO TAKE OUR GRIAN!"

"-And Joel is working himself towards an aneurysm."

Scott peeked through the door that Martyn so thoughtfully left open. He couldn't quite see into the living room from there but he could see Bdubs standing in the hallway and Jimmy fluttering back and forth, wings fluffed up indignantly while he argued with someone out of sight.

Oh, he might just be distracted enough that...

"Hey, Jimmy? May I come in?"

Pearl stifled a giggle next to him, her antenna bobbing in front of her face.

"Huh, yeah? Wait, no-"

Too late.

Scott strolled across the threshold, hands shoved in his pockets and smirk firmly pasted on. Jimmy threw his hands up in the air and stomped away, further into the sitting room.

"He never learns."

"He let me and Scar in too," Bdubs confirmed as he walked up beside him, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Though I don't think he'd realized that was a bad idea yet."

Scott just hummed in amusement. Invitations at this house were good one-time only, courtesy of Lizzie and the copious amounts of wards she'd thrown at the house first when Joel and then later Jimmy moved in. And if he focused hard enough, Joel would be able to throw them out, invited or no. They'd just have to make sure he was too distracted then. 

Though Cleo and Scar and Martyn seemed to have that well in hand, circling like vampires at a seedy nightclub. Joel was standing in front of the sofa, his hands on his hips, staring Cleo down, which looked pretty comical from the height difference alone. Scar and Martyn were flanking, trying their best to get at Grian (wrapped in a blanket, sitting on the sofa, staring blankly into space) while Joel body-blocked them without breaking eye contact with Cleo, who looked more amused than anything else. Jimmy was hovering anxiously in the back.

"Awwwww, who's a widdle Gwian," Scar was cooing, practically radiating mildly malicious delight. "Lookit the widdle Gwian!" 

"Stop that!" Joel blindly flailed a hand in Scar's direction and managed to smack him across the face, more out of luck than intention. Scar wheeled backwards a bit but wasn't deterred for long, rolling right back up to the sofa, turning his chair so that it was partially shielding him.

"Does the widdle Gwian want to go for walkies?"

"NO!" That actually got Joel to look away from Cleo, clear alarm on his face. "NO HE DOES NOT!"

"Are you so sure," Martyn inched closer. "It's got to be a bit dull, just staring at the wall like that. What kind of friends would we be if we left him to suffer boredom while he does..." he waved a hand vaguely in the air. "whatever he's doing."

Jimmy's wings fluffed up further. Pearl appeared in the living room window with a bag of popcorn as if she'd always been there. 

"You're not stealing our Grian!" Joel insisted. It was a good thing there were privacy wards. Who knows what the neighbors would have done by now otherwise.

"Do you think if we threw him across your lap you'd be able to carry him out?" Cleo asked Scar directly, leaning in a bit closer to Joel in a way that would have intimidated probably anybody else, but Joel's sense of danger was skewed and he didn't even flinch.

Scar looked genuinely thoughtful, tapping one finger on his knee as he considered. "Maybe. We'd have to tuck the blanket in tightly to make sure it didn't get caught in my wheels and kept his wings folded up."

Joel looked about ready to explode and was sputtering incoherently. Jimmy was squawking like an offended chicken. Pearl absolutely had the right idea with the popcorn.  

"You could at least turn the television on for him," Scott decided to throw his two cents in. "He's already in here."

Everyone quieted for a moment and considered that.

"Mario Kart?" Pearl suggested through a mouthful of popcorn. Jimmy perked up at the suggestion and Martyn looked like it had genuinely distracted him.

"We should do that!"

-

Two hours later everyone was firmly focused on the television, controllers being passed around and insults even more so. Cleo and Martyn and Scar and Pearl were fighting their way through Bowser's Castle and Scott leaned back against the sofa, closed his eyes and took a soft, deep breath.

Jimmy was easy, Scott's magic familiar and nonthreatening to him. He slumped over almost immediately, sound asleep.

Joel was harder. He had an innate resistance to magic in general that was very annoying, and an extra buffer from Lizzie's claim, but he was fairly relaxed and unsuspecting and he wasn't that far behind Jimmy.  Scott stifled a yawn and sat back up. Sleep charms always made him sleepy too. 

None of the others except BDubs had even noticed, too focused on the game.

"If you still want to steal Grian," Scott said, right as Martyn crossed the finish line with a cheer and shouts of disgust from the others. "Now would be the time."

Bdubs hopped to his feet. "Right, c'mon, Mom!"

Cleo looked somehow both exhausted and entertained at the same time. "Don't call me mom." Regardless, they got to their feet and gave the room a quick look-around. "Right."

Without further ado, she strode over to the sofa, threw Grian, blanket burrito and all over her shoulder and looked back at the rest of them. "Are you coming or what?"

There was a mad scramble, full of giggling and loud shushing and one close call (Jimmy rolled over in his sleep and almost hit Scar with his wing) before they were all out in the hallway looking at each other.

"Where to?" Martyn poked the Grian burrito. No reaction.

Pearl looked up from her phone. "I texted BigB, he'll meet us at the corner with the car."

"We should take him to Dad," Bdubs said emphatically. 

Cleo sighed. "Fine, we'll go see Etho."

Scar and Bdubs cheered. Martyn hushed them and they cheered again, quieter this time.

"We should hurry, the sleep charm won't last much longer," Scott jumped a bit when Pearl linked her arm with his.

They were out the front door and on the sidewalk, BigB's sedan pulling into view before the jig was up.

"WHERE IS GRIAN!"

Scott exchanged glances with Pearl and Martyn and as one the three of them bolted for the corner, giggling all the way, the others hot on their tail.

The trunk popped as they got close and Cleo yanked it open and tossed Grian inside without hesitation. Scar swung himself out of his chair and leaned up against Scott, who had to scramble a bit to catch him, scooting his chair at Cleo. They folded it up in record speed and shoved it in the trunk as well, right on top of Grian, before slamming the doorclosed and immediately pulling Bdubs out of the passenger seat so they could sit there themself.

Scott somehow ended up squished in one corner of the back, with Scar in the middle, Pearl on the other side with her knees pulled up, Martyn in his lap, and Bdubs squished down in the footwell in front of Pearl. Just in time too, as Joel came dashing down the sidewalk, Jimmy on his heels and fury on his face.

"GO! GO! GO!" At least three people screamed and BigB screamed wordlessly back as he peeled away from the curb. Scott managed to twist enough in his seat he could look out the back window. Joel was red in the face and looked genuinely distressed enough that he almost felt bad. Behind Joel, Jimmy took to the air.

"Jimmy's following," he informed the car at large. "He'll watch us from the air but he won't be too hard to lose."

Martyn leaned back, his elbow making forceful contact with Scott's diaphragm as he tried to look out the window. "He forgot to glamour before he took off, didn't he."

Scott wheezed, Pearl laughed, and Scar cackled like the madman he was.

"Etho is going to hate this," Bdubs announced from the floor. 

"Only one way to find out," Cleo said cheerfully and turned on the radio. "To Etho's house!"

[purplekoop]

How about a classic? Reverse Unpopular Opinion: TMNT 2012

oh god, okay, this really is easy mode, I gotta say nice things about TMNT 2012. I gotta hold off some praises for the long overdue Things I Love (paused my rewatch because I meant to make a season 1 post, never got around to that so I stopped because I didn't wanna watch more past that. oops. anyways,)

Theme Song! Very good! Very nice evolution of the classic theme that perfectly sets the vibe for the show. I don't think I need to specify that the Season 5 theme is also incredible. An incredibly random choice for an homage, but still an awesome intro that helps set apart the weirdo (affectionate) season.

Uhhhh god wanna keep these more specific so uhhh Leatherhead. Just him. the whole guy. Love his voice, LOVE his design, love how the show uses him as the "things are getting serious" backup in the earlier seasons. He's one of the characters I was always excited to see in episodes as a kid and that feeling hasn't really gone away.

On a related note of just saying a character, Fishface. Visually he's a great example of how 2012 will take a goofy concept and make it look and move as cool as possible, it's astounding a character proportioned like that fights mostly with his feet and doesn't look stupid. Well. Too stupid anyways. He's also a fun personality, enough a jerk to warrant being a bad guy but charming enough to where you almost wish he wasn't. Also, without spoiling any specifics, the way he exits the show still cracks me up. I think the whole Foot Clan villain gang is a great batch of mainstay baddies but Fishface is definitely the standout to me, especially as someone entirely new to 2012 (unless I'm unaware of some obscure comic character of the same name)

Tales of the Yokai. banger episode. Especially the big scene at the end. I don't need to specify what I mean, you know it if you know it.

The whole first half of season 3 is so fun. The classic farm house being turned into a setting of horror parodies is such a fun choice that they use for a bunch of great episodes that don't have to keep the main plot going after the big bang of season 2's finale.

Actually on that note, the canon explanation for Leo's VA swap is so funny, more shows should do that. I mean I guess in a way Doctor Who already does that... and like. Fugitoid in almost every sense but literal is basically a Doctor.

Speaking of

FUGITOOOOIIIIIIID THE BOY

Look I feel like it's not a shock at all I love a good overly formal robot character. Before his introduction in 2012 I already adored him from seeing him sporadically in a few 03 episodes I saw, so I was ECSTATIC to see him in this show too. He's also just great in general, maybe my favorite character in the entire show if not franchise, I love this little guy war criminal so much

Gonna stop there because this WILL devolve into me either incoherently rambling about almost every individual character or just an analysis about all the major show elements like the art style or humor or something. Again, this is easy, except in the respect I need to save something for the actual long post about the show.

Actually wait okay one more:

armagon.

shark :)

Okay now I'm done, thank you.

[starstruckdove]

im gonna start using tumblr more... i think... hopefully...

pretty privilege

Anri does not know much about soccer–leave that to Ego and his speeches packed with more metaphors than prepositions–but these things she recognizes: the look of a starved animal carved into their eyes, the desperation etched into the sound of their voices, the way they gather anything and everything and lay it down as kindling before the dying embers of a half-forgotten dream.

These things, Anri thinks, she might know better than anyone.

Word Count: 1.5k

serious anri fic instead of crack oops 🫣

[player1064]

How about something fluffy fluff where they have been in a situationship/fwb for a few years, both thinking the other one doesn't want anything serious, but irl both are insanely in love with each other and pining, until finally one of them cracks and confesses.

Your drabbles bring me so much joy, thank you. You should also continue the wife-gary saga.

I WANTED TO WRITE SOMETHING DUMB AND SILLY AND FLUFFY BUT OHHHH NO. MY BRAIN HAD OTHER IDEAS. Obviously the other day I was like 'in the wife-gary saga they were fwb who spent lockdown together' and so I wanted to write that but then it hit me just like. just what an Ordeal the lockdowns were and how insane it made everyone. So this came out less 'silly fluff' and a lot more 'earnest pining'. oops?

Also I've mentioned this on the carraville discord but did u guys know Gary and Jamie were literally together when the lockdowns first got announced like they literally watched the broadcast together then like. had to immediately pack up and go home. I feel INSANE every time I think about it. tbh.

---

“Feels a bit like the end of the world,” Jamie says one day, lounging on the sofa while the news plays softly in the background.

Gary looks over at him from where he’s sat a respectable distance away at the other end of the couch. “Yeah,” he says quietly, “it does a bit.”

Jamie had been thinking about saying – well, it doesn’t really matter, because he’s been thinking about saying it for three weeks now and still hasn’t got up the nerve. Instead, he smirks and says “y’know, in all the disaster movies I’ve seen the rich bastards always fuck off somewhere safe, don’t they?” He looks around Gary’s huge living room. “Maybe that pension of yours has finally come in handy, eh?”

“I dunno,” Gary says. “All just feels a bit wrong, to be fair.” He gets up with a sigh, brushes some imaginary lint off his trousers. “You got any more filming to do today, or d’you fancy helping me in kitchen?”

For a brief moment, Jamie considers making up some interview he has to go off and record so that he can avoid another dreaded ‘Gary (who can’t cook) tries to teach Jamie how to cook’ session, but then he remembers that this lockdown thing is already stretching out for weeks and weeks ahead of him, and if he’s going to be stuck here all that time he should probably try pulling his weight a bit more.

“Fine, but I’m not peeling any more fuckin’ carrots.”

*

When Jamie’s loading the dishwasher after dinner, Gary rests a hand on his hip and kisses him, soft and sweet.

“Come to bed?” he murmurs against Jamie’s lips, and Jamie wonders if he even remembers how to deny him anything.

*

Except he does remember how, and he hates himself for it. Because when Gary, already half-asleep, loosely wraps a hand around his wrist and says “stay,” he gently extracts himself from the tangle of sheets and goes back to the spare room.

*

They somehow manage to carry on like this, days spent on zoom calls from separate studies, evenings spent trying to muddle their way through whatever recipes they find online. Nights, more often than not, spent in separate bedrooms.

They’re actually having less sex, now that they’re living under the same roof. Before, every time they’d seen each other had been an excuse to find somewhere private to sneak off together, every accidental touch in studios or in stadiums had felt charged.

Now, they argue over what shows to watch on Netflix. They work out together most mornings in Gary’s little home gym. They stay up far later than two middle aged men have any right to, heckling each other through games of fifa and mario kart.

Sometimes, Jamie looks over at Gary and he’s got that same look in his eye that he normally only gets when he’s about to kiss Jamie. Sometimes Jamie smiles at the expression, starts to lean in, is left confused when Gary blushes and moves away.

Sometimes Gary does kiss him. Sometimes Gary does more than kiss him. It’s easy, familiar. Comforting. It’s a dance they’ve been practicing for four years now.

It’s still just as hard to return to his own bed afterwards as it had been four years ago.

*

Three months becomes six months becomes a year, and Jamie dreads going back to his own house, to the thick layer of dust that’s waiting for him there, to that quiet emptiness that he’s only just learnt to live without.

He almost catches himself thinking that he hates Liverpool.

But life has to go back to normal, that’s what everyone’s saying, so he packs up his things while Gary watches from the doorway of the spare room.

“Stay,” he says.

It’s the first time he’s asked without the excuse of the sleepy post-orgasm haze to hide behind. It’s the first time Jamie has to actually give an answer.

He shrugs, keeps his focus on the suitcase lying open in front of him. “No more lockdowns,” he says, all forced casualness. “’s not like either of us have much use for a housemate.”

“Jamie,” Gary says, taking a step into the room. “Stay.”

Jamie turns to look at him.

Gary won’t meet his eyes, is staring unblinking at a spot on the wall instead, lips pursed tightly together. His hands are clenched into fists at his sides.

Jamie really, really doesn’t want to go home.

“Maybe I can swing another week or two,” he says carefully, reaching out to brush the back of Gary’s hand.

He feels shaky fingers lace with his own, sees Gary’s eyes crinkle in a not-quite-smile. “D’you think y’could stretch it to a month?”

“Hows about a year?”

Gary breathes a heavy sigh of relief, his whole face breaking into a wide grin. “Hows about ten?”

“Fuck, Gary,” Jamie breathes, pulls him in by the front of his shirt. He kisses him firmly, then rests a hand on his cheek and says “rest of our lives, that’s me final offer.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” Gary says, and kisses him again.

*

Later, they’re lying in Gary’s bed and Jamie’s not even thinking about the spare room.

Gary’s got the duvet pulled up to cover his bare chest, glasses perched on his nose while he scrolls on his phone.

“You got any plans a month from Thursday?” he asks idly.

“Not had any plans in a year, lad, might take a while for the calendar to fill back up. Why?”

“Fancy gettin’ married?”

Gary’s still just looking at his phone, his tone still light, but there’s a faint blush rising in his cheeks.

“Hmm, I’m still waitin’ on a better offer,” Jamie teases, “but I reckon I can pencil you in.”

[yandere-plague]

[Yandere AI Handsome Jack]

(Oneshot)

Only just realised the pov switches a bit, oops.

"All of this... Will be ours."

AI Jack motioned around the office, almost beaming to be back in his, now dusty, office.

"Yours, you mean yours. Right?" I nervously chucked, I didn't want to be apart of this anymore. Being with Jack for so long is suffocating, and of course the only way to get rid of him is to go up to fucking Helios.

The deal was simple enough, I go up to helios and "get rid" of Jack, and he gives me a shit ton of money to start a new life, preferably away from Pandora.

"Well yes, mine. But uh, you still helped..." his voice trailed off as I walked towards the huge window, looking at Elpis.

"Woah... nice view..." the pink hue crack from the incident with the Eye of Helios stuck out like a sore thumb. It was pretty in a way.

"It sure is! Oh, and Elpis looks great too..."

I rolled my eyes, turning around and walking towards Jack.

"So... what now?"

"Now princess, you'll have to sit on throne."

The 'throne' was yellow, comfy looking office chair.

I sat on the chair, feeling needles gently prick under my clothes and into my skin. Scaring me a little.

"Woah."

The corner of his mouth raised slightly to your reaction, it was cute in a way.

"Thats the contact activativated dopamine injectors." Half of those words made no sense to you, you let yourself rest for a minute, a well needed break from the mayhem you went through.

"You look like you could kill someone with a phone call and a little base in your voice. Hot." He phased into the opposite chair, raising his feet onto the desk.

"I- uh- thank you?" Jack has been flirty, but not THIS flirty.

"So. What now?"

"Now, before I tell you. I have one thing to ask you." He narrowed his eyes, his face suddenly so serious.

I nodded slightly, he looked down, then back at me.

"If you and I ran this place, what would you do with it?"

"... hypothetically of course."

"Change Pandora, or just blow it up. Whatevers good."

He chucked at your response.

"Nice to see you haven't changed about Pandora."

"But... what if it wasn't hypothetical? We could run this place, together."

"What do you say (y/n)?"

You shook your head.

"No, nonono. I don't want to be some nobody slaving their life for their company. Thats not me, its not who I am." You stood up and crossed your arms.

"But you won't be a nobody-"

"No, Jack, just give me the money please. You'll never hear from me again."

He put his hands on his hips.

"Im not going to leave."

You scoffed at him. "What are you on about?"

Your robotic hand jolted up, you looked at him with wide eyes, your breath shaky.

"You're too important to leave."

Your hand slammed down on the chair, the force sitting you down. The grip was (literally) iron tight, trying to remove it was impossible, but you had to try.

Suddenly your hand jolted to the left of you, you saw a wierd pointy think jutting out of the chair. It was not there before.

you couldn't say anything before it was jammed into your Headport.

Cuffs appeared from the chair, your body now stuck to it. All you could hear was the sound of data being transferred out of your head.

You were beyond terrified, Jack shifted to the side of you. Watching you try and escape the cuffs.

"You're going to stay here, with all the money you could want! Its what you wanted wasn't it?"

"Y-yes but-" you couldn't think of the words, feeling light headed.

He began laughing, really hard, as he glitched in and out of existence.

Then it was silent, too silent.

You heard him again, yet all around you.

He's. In. Helios.

The noise stopped, though now you could feel your head pulsing in pain. The needles where forcing you to be somewhat docile, this can't be happening!

The device left your head, going back into the chair. You slumped your head, passing out almost instantly.

"Get some rest pumkin, I'll take good care of you."

[sekhithefops]

Elon Musk's Steady Descent into Madness Masterpost

Because I realized just now I posted a bunch of these things documenting the catastrophic fall of Tweeter and its descent into being a letter from the ass end of the alphabet, I figured I may as well put all these in one place.

Elon Musk Got Sued For Violating a Disabled Worker's Rights

Musk Initiates Rate Limits Because Reasons

Oops Turns Out There Were No Rate Limits, He Just Didn't Want to Admit He Fucked Up Again

Musk Writes Stoner Poetry to Try to Explain Away Rate Limits

Twitter is Losing Advertisers in Droves, Known Human Trafficker Andrew Tate Profits From the Few That Remain

Zuckerberg's Answer to Tweeter, Threads, Launches. Somehow its Even Worse

Musk Threatens Legal Action Against Zuckerberg Because He Thinks Owning Twitter Means He Owns the Concept of Social Media

Legal Eagle Weighs In on Musk's Suit Against Zuckerberg for Threads

Musk Wants to Rebrand Twitter as "X" Because He's Actually an Edgy Teenager from 1999

Wait, He Was Serious About Rebranding?!

Oops, Turns Out Rebranding as X Now Means Zuckerberg Can Sue Musk!

Gee, I Wonder Why Twitter X is Having So Much Trouble Keeping Advertisers

The Blue Check is Now Such a Black Mark That Musk is Letting Users Hide Them

Musk thinks Blocking people is a bad idea, so now nobody can block because he's a fucking sadist.

Three years of internet history just went poof. Intentional act or did Musk just fuck up again?

Approximately Half of Musk's Followers on Twitter are Bots

Musk goes to a video game tournament, it goes as well as you might expect.

Musk wants to paywall all of Twitter/X, make it so you have to pay to use it at all.

Musk decrees that news articles shared on Twitter/X will no longer display headlines, just pictures. Why? Not a single godsdamn clue.

Linda Yaccarino says "advertisers are returning to X." Linda Yaccarino is a big stinking liar.

Musk's multitude of moronic changes makes a real world tragedy even worse by preventing those who relied on Twitter for news from getting any credible information.

With Misinformation flying everywhere following an attack on Israel by Hamas and their retaliation against Gaza, Musk cracks down... on nudity.

Musk throttles traffic to Patreon as well as several other sites in his completely doomed attempt to turn Twitter into "X, the Everything App."

Musk begins charging new accounts $1 a year and requiring a phone number to "help combat spam," because the armies of $8 verified checkmark bots have proven that this works... wait, that didn't sound right.

The EU tells Musk "fix your shit." Musk tells the EU "Screw you guys, I'm going home."

An investigation reveals that 74% of the misinformation and propaganda spread during a recent attack in the Middle East was spread by Verified Users on Twitter. Oops.

A year after Musk's takeover, Slate reviews everything he managed to fuck right up.

Musk states that the smoldering remains of Twitter now known as X would become a dating site. How? Fucked if I know!

Musk is sued by a prominent critic who exposed what anyone with two working eyeballs could have told you: that Twitter is overrun with hardcore Alt-Right lunatics and its entirely Musk's fault.

IBM pulls advertising after they put their ads next to blatantly pro-fascist/neo-nazi propaganda. CEO Linda Yaccarano swears that they are trying to combat such things on Twitter, Musk however endorses them because its fucking Musk.

Twitter's CEO, Linda Yaccarano, is being advised to step down as staying as CEO is doing irreperable damage to her reputation. Meanwhile as companies like Disney, Apple, IBM, and the entire European Commission bail on advertising Musk's fanclub try (and fail) to fund Twitter themselves.

Musk sues Media Matters for pointing out that his failing social media site full of neo-nazis is full of neo-nazis. Meanwhile advertisers continue to flee in droves.

A brief overview by TechDirt as to why Musk's "thermonuclear lawsuit" is a laughable mess that not even Harvey Birdman would take seriously.

In response to advertisers fleeing Twitter, musk has only this to say: "Go fuck yourselves."

Slate posts the question: "What if Musk is doing this on purpose?"

Techdirt posts the answer: "He's not doing this on purpose, he's just gone completely bugfuck nuts."

Legal Eagle of Youtube fame analyzes Elon's "Thermonuclear Lawsuit" which turns out to be exactly what you thought it was: utter crap.

Elon paid a shitload of money to create Grok, his own AI abomination, and it turned on it's master.

A leaked document confirms what we all suspected, Musk has severely weakened moderation tools and intentionally allows anti-semitism and anti-LGBTQA+ posts to run rampant.

Musk reports over one billion video views on Superbowl Sunday, but an independent study shows that 3/4ths of them were likely bots.

[itsnotreal]

for the fake title game; the battery is dead

Oh god.. okay this is harder than I thought.. 👀 Gah

Harry let out a deep breath, and scowled at his phone screen, cheek resting in his hand, as he scrolled through his ex’s Facebook. “Glad to know he’s already forgotten about me.” He mumbled to himself, locking his phone and throwing it on the other side of the couch.

It had only been three weeks. How could the stupidly perfect for him, blue-eyed man have already moved on? With a defeated groan, he crawled over the couch and snatched his phone up, finding Louis’ contact and pressing call.

Heart racing, he listened as it rang three times and then went to voicemail. “Fucker.” He whispered to himself before the robotic beep sounded.

Without even thinking it through he angrily said into the voicemail box, “It’s been three fucking weeks and you’ve already got a new man?” He scoffed. “I mean Jesus fuck, Lou. I’m still half in love with you and you’ve already moved on. I can’t believe it’s actually over. I just—,” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat before continuing softly, “I wish you’d change your mind.”

He hung up the phone, sniffling and wiping at his eyes. Fuck. Why had he done that? They hadn’t spoken since the break up. Damn it. Now he was the crazy ex.

His phone buzzed from where it laid face down on the couch, and when he lifted it up, there was Louis’ photo on the screen. It had been taken when they were vacationing in the Bahamas. The crystal blue water made Louis’ eyes almost white, they were such a light colored blue.

It finally dawned on him that Louis was calling him back. Oh god. He was probably so pissed.

Harry pressed the green answer button and brought the phone up to his ear, but before he could say anything, Louis started talking. “Are you serious? You think I’m with someone else so quickly? God.” There was a huff of disbelief. “Do you even know me, Harry?”

Harry was so tired, he didn’t even want to argue anymore, “I miss you.” He whispered.

There was a soft sigh on the line, “Haz, I miss you so much it aches.”

Harry’s voice trembled as he said, “Then why can’t we do this?”

The line was quiet for a moment, and then so softly Harry had to strain to listen, Louis said, “You know why.” And then the line went dead.

Or maybe they could try again. They just needed to compromise. Isn’t that what relationships were? Compromise and communication? Harry just needed Louis to listen to reason.

—

I’m not sure if this is what I was supposed to do… but um.. that was way more angsty than I’ve ever written oops!! Hope you like it!

[writermuses]

A T H K - for all our babes but if you don't feel like doing all of them, feel free to choose which ever!!

Sexy A B C's

A ─ After care. Do they take care of each other after sex ? How ?

Caitriona - I suspect they wear each other out and fall asleep holding each other since they both show their affection with touch and if they're not there yet then she'd probably massaged his back until Dom had the energy for some slow sex. Then sleepy cuddles.

Charlotte - Always with the pulling John into the shower after the deed. Then, depending on the time of day and the free time they have: cuddles and kisses

Devrim - Dev likes to cuddle and sort of play it back verbally. He'd talk to her about how sexy she was when she was doing xyz or ask her where she learned how to do that thing with her tongue.

Joseph - Oof, Joey's so non-committal in their verse that he probably brings her something to clean up, gives her a forehead kiss as a thanks, and then leaves.

Octavius - Tavi's a quiet guy and needs to recharge after all that physical contact. He'd let her shower or nap while he cooked a full meal for them to share and then rejoined Cleo for a movie or to watch her sleep.

T ─ Turn ons & offs. What do they do to turn each other on ?  Is there something the other does that turns them off ?  Have they told them about it ?

Caitriona - ON: choking, spankings, praise - she's submissive as hell; OFF: spitting, degradation

Charlotte - ON: spanking, marking, bondage, knife play; OFF: degradation (babygirl bites back)

Devrim - ON: everything except butt stuff, he's easily wound up; OFF: 💩 is the only off, so that's pretty telling, I guess

Joseph - ON: voyeurism, exhibitionism, bondage; OFF: Don't try to dominate him - at all. ever.

Octavius - ON: impact and temperature play; OFF: Marking him- even if it's temporary

H ─ Humour. Are they the kind to share a laugh during sex ?  Has something funny already happened to them ( breaking the bed, one of them falling off the couch, funny noises, etc… ) ?

Caitriona - She's very much in the moment, so if they broke the furniture she'd be so apologetic about it. I think lately she'd been so sad that laughing is so rare for her. She's ticklish af though.

Charlotte - Oh ABSOLUTELY! She'll say anything to make John laugh as he's railing her, probably half in hopes of making him fall over laughing and half in hopes of getting spanked for it.

Devrim - He's more teasing than 'funny' but if anyone can make him laugh it's his Lara.

Joseph - Maybe if they broke furniture she'd get an 'oh shit' and chuckle before they proceed.

Octavius - He would if he was in a serious relationship with someone, but I've been writing him for years and that's never happened. Rooting for you to crack the shell, Cleo.

K ─ Kissing. How important are kisses in their relationship ?  Any favourite kind of kisses ?  Do they have any rituals involving kissing ( never leaving for work without kissing the other, always sharing a kiss goodnight, etc… ) ?

Caitriona - She probably takes him not kissing her as him being upset with her or upset about something else. As much as she loves kissing him, her favorite is the quick kisses to her temple in passing like he's just reminding her he's there for her.

Charlotte - It's an addiction that must be fed. PDA is strong with these two. Her favorite are the ones he wakes her up with that trail up her inner thighs. OOPS!

Devrim - He'll take whatever Lara gives. He kisses her wrist and palms more than anywhere else because he's always holding her hand.

Joseph - His kisses are rare and heated. He loves it when she kisses him... especially when she can't reach his lips and has to settle for his neck or chin.

Octavius - In private he's all about kissing the hell out of anyone. In public he's very much not showing affection to protect the other person. He loved collarbone kisses.