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heartshapedmisery · 10 months

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𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 | jon snow

summary ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖ in which jon wanders too far north of the wall into free folk territory and is put under your supervision, mance rayder's daughter, after your voluntary offer of him staying in your tent. you never thought you would be willing to bunk with a crow, but of course, there's a first for everything.

warnings ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖ MINORS DNI ! ( 18+ ) | language, graphic smut, unprotected sex ( wrap it before u tap it y'all ), inexperienced!jon, reader taking jon's virginity, little bit of subby!jon, riding, handjob, mentions of blood ( reader bites jon's lip on accident whoops ), oral ( f! recieving ), jon having a praise k!nk, jon having literally no self-control, reader calling jon a crow about a thousand times lmao, minimal use of Y/N, lmk if i missed anything!

word count ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖ 3k +

pairing ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖ jon snow x fem!rayder!reader.

author’s note ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖ jon snow is so babygirl

honestly loved writing this, lmk what you think! also, should i make a part two with ygritte involved ?? wink wink

publishing date ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖ june 26th, 2023 | © HEARTSHAPEDMISERY

When you first saw the darkness of his furs sticking out so flamboyantly against the white of the northern snow, you knew Ygritte had struck gold on her hunt with the others.

You watched with a cautious but intrigued look on your face as she pulled him along behind her by a long rope tied around his hands, cradling a longsword in the crook of her arm with a wide smile on her face. But, the look on the crow's face seemed to be the total opposite.

Everything about him was dark, from his ratted furs to his hair that looked like it hadn't been given a good wash in ages, to even the disgruntled frown that didn't seem to leave his face until Ygritte finally untied him from his restraints. He was a crow, through and through.

You had seen plenty men of the Night's Watch before―even killed a few―but the one who stood before you as you made your way into your father's council tent was different. His eyes were a deep, darling brown, holding a youth that couldn't have been any older than your own. Most of the crows you had captured were all old and gray, not nearly as attractive and brooding as this one.

You didn't know there was such a thing.

"Where'd you find this one?" you whispered to Ygritte, your voice low enough for only her ears, your eyes raking over his figure that seemed disproportioned from the thick of the furs and leathers he wore.

"About a few miles north of the wall," she told you, watching him just as closely as you were. "He was just too pretty to pass up." The two of you shared a laugh as she handed you the young crow's sword, heavy and dull in its scabbard.

The Lord of Bones pushed him roughly towards the man sitting in the center of the tent, biting into a hunk of meat as if it were his last meal.

"I smell a crow," Tormund muffled with his mouth full, turning his head barely enough to get a good look at the young man. His scowl hadn't changed, if anything worsened since being shoved into the large tent.

His name had been Jon Snow, which he revealed to Tormund just before kneeling before him and muttering your grace. The entire tent seemed to bustle with laughter at the attempt of respect, you and Ygritte sending each other a knowing look as the crow's face reddened with embarrassment. Tormund may have looked and fought like one, but he was no king.

"Stand boy," a voice hidden in the back of the tent sounded, silencing everyone in the room within a matter of seconds. Your father, Mance Rayder, unveiled himself from the shadowy corner room behind Tormund, looking down upon Jon Snow as he stood.

Jon was quick to rise to his feet, looking up at him as the man stood taller than even Tormund. "We don't kneel for anyone beyond the wall."

Slowly, you moved towards your father from Ygritte's side, resting your hands on the hilt of the crow's sword as you allowed it to stand in front of you. Your father always valued your opinion when coming to decisions over the free folk, and this matter was no different.

Your eyes had hardened by now, catching Jon's gaze with a look that could only be interpreted as defensive. No matter how pretty you thought he was, he was still a man of the Night's watch. Your enemy infiltrating your land.

You watched him carefully as he went on to explain why he had left the Night's Watch, telling your father about the things he had seen in Craster's Keep.

"And why would that make you want to abandon your brothers?" Mance asked, his voice low and gravelly. His words seemed to intimidate the young man, his eyes flitting away from your father's before moving back to them hesitantly.

"Answer the question," you growled, leaning in towards him with a malice that couldn't help but send a chill down his spine. His eyes shot to yours, wondering why you were making such commands in the presence of Mance Rayder.

He explained how the Night's Watch did nothing to prevent Craster from giving up his newborn son to the white walkers, creatures that had been known to be gone for centuries.

"I want to fight for the side that fights for the living," he told your father, sparing you only a quick look as you stepped back to Mance's side. "Did I come to the right place?"

Mance mulled over the boy's words before looking down at you, the look on his face clear that he wanted your opinion. "What do you say, girl? Shall the baby crow stay?"

As you held his sword close to your chest, you stepped closer to Jon, your face inches from his as you gave him a good look over. He seemed nervous, his breathy shaky as it blew past his lips.

"I say he can," you paused, circling around him before meeting his gaze once more with a sly smrik on your lips. "But he stays with me."

He didn't speak much to you at first―or anyone really―only saying a few words when needed to and biting his tongue when you made some snide remark or called him a crow.

Since you had taken the responsibility of monitoring him, you practically stuck to Jon like glue until nightfall―as did many other girls in your camp, including Ygritte. She was an exception, but you had to keep running the rest of them off since their eagerness to catch a glimpse of him drove them to fights and quarrels in the snow.

Not to degrade any of the people in your camp, but men that looked like Jon Snow were not a common sight in free folk territory.

After showing him around the camp and getting him a new set of furs made of polar bear skin and boiled leather, you eventually gave him Longclaw back―which was what he called that heavy sword of his. He was grateful, but his disgruntled frown hardly left his face.

"Lose the frown, Jon Snow," you had told him as he joined you and Ygritte for dinner around the fire you had built near your tent. "You're not in the South anymore. There's no need to look so miserable."

When nightfall finally took the sky, you escorted Jon to your tent with a mischievous smirk on your face, earning looks from other wilding girls―most of them being of annoyance or jealousy. Their glares didn't go unnoticed by Jon, a look of confusion and concern evident on his face.

"Are they always like this?" he asked sheepishly, looking over his shoulder as the two of you stood still in front of the flaps of your tent.

You couldn't help but laugh, the scowls on their faces feral and sour as you led him into your tent.

"You're the first pretty crow they've seen in ages, Jon Snow," you told him with a grin. "They'll claw each other's eyes out to lay naked with you."

Your words seemed to surprise him, but he didn't say anything as a reddish tint rose in his cheeks. He had never been with a girl, he was too young before he joined The Watch, and his vows forbade him from lying with a woman. He had never gotten the chance, so the idea couldn't help but intrigue him.

"Your furs are over there," you pointed to the makeshift bed across from yours, "Though I know you'll be far much warmer over here with me."

He disregarded your comment, silent as he made his way over to his side of the tent and tried not to think too hard about laying with you.

It wasn't a large tent, your furs only a mere few feet from his. You still laid rather close despite being on separate sides.

Beginning to undo your outer layers and shedding them off, you were left in only a thin undershirt and pants that barely left anything to the imagination as you sat across from him.

Jon's eyes widened.

You could feel his eyes on you, his cheeks flushed at the sight of your hardened nipples poking through the fabric as you reached over to light a few candles between the two of you to brighten up the tent. He felt a sting of guilt run through his chest; he didn't want to betray his vows, or even think about betraying them, but you were making it very difficult for him to abstain on his side of the tent.

"What, have you never seen a woman's body before, crow?" you said playfully as you undid your hair from the braid it had been pulled back in all day, tousling it with your tired fingers to get ready for bed.

Jon only widened his eyes, gulping rather harshly as his lips parted, catching your eyes that seemed to be filled with nothing but seduction.

"What do you care?" he looked away, the tension too much for him to bare. His cheeks were flaming red at this point, embarrassment flaring in his chest. He could feel his hard-on begin to grow under his thick trousers, hoping to the Old Gods you couldn't see.

"Oh, right," you said sarcastically. "The Night's Watch will hack your hand off if you even think about touching a woman, is that right? Miserable bastards."

Jon tried to protest, his words caught dead in his mouth as you cut him off abruptly.

"Have you ever laid with a woman, Jon Snow?" you asked lowly, sitting up from your spot on your warm furs before slowly starting to crawl over to him, sultry laced thickly in your voice.

He shook his head, his eyes wide and blown out with lust. You were dangerously close to him, sitting down in front of him with your legs tucked neatly beneath you as you leaned in towards him.

"Do you want to?" you said slyly, your lips inches from his.

Your hand slowly reached out for his, grasping it gently before bringing it to your breast and allowing him to cup it. A shaky sigh blew past his plump lips, his gaze flitting down to your chest as he rubbed the pad of his thumb over your sensitive nipple gently.

The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could even think. Before he could remember the vow that he had made not long ago. Your sweet scent of firewood and pine was like truth serum to his senses. "More than anything."

His gentle, pleading words were enough for you to bring your lips to his, enveloping in the taste of him as you moved swiftly onto his lap, lips moving in sync hungrily as if he would be your last.

His arms tightened around your waist, pulling you flush against his hard chest. As you lowered your hips down onto his lap, you could feel him hard against your core, making you gasp in surprise.

You laughed gently under your breath in excitement as his eyes fluttered shut, not being able to help yourself as you began to slowly grind against him, earning a low and shaky whimper from his throat.

It was like music to your ears; his soft whimpers and pants. When you had been with other wildling men, they grunted and groaned as they worked their way in and out of you, almost animalistic. Jon was different.

"Do you like it when I do this?" You cooed in his ear. His moans were soft and desperate as he yearned for more of your touch, his hands gentle and needy as they grasped at your hips and worked you across his lap slowly.

He had no idea how much of an effect it had on you. How his exasperated pants made something foreign blossom in your chest and spread down to your lower half.

"Please," he begged as he pulled away from your lips, looking up at you with an adoration you had never seen from any free folk. You had him wrapped around your finger, drunk on your warm touch. Nothing could've riled you up more.

"You can have me however you want," you promised him, tucking a stray piece of hair behind his ear. Slowly, you pulled your undershirt off over your head before wriggling out of your thin pants, leaving your body bare and on display for him. "You're mine now, Jon Snow."

Your hand traveled down slowly between your bodies, running over the front of his trousers and cupping his hard-on, dancing your fingers across it tauntingly. "But first, let me help you with this."

Your fingers quickly worked at the ties at his trousers, pulling it open and helping him get rid of them before assisting him in removing his heavy furs and leathers and throwing them to the side, leaving him bare and warm beneath you, his pale, toned skin burning against your own.

Carefully, you sat back down on his lap, sitting at the edge of his knees so you could get a good look at him splayed out before you. Excitement buzzed in your chest at the sight of his reddened tip, leaking with precum practically begging to be touched.

With a soft look, your hand grasped his hardened cock gently, making him shudder at the sudden contact.

The feeling was foreign to him; Sure, he had used his own hand once or twice to relieve himself when he was feeling desperate, but his calloused and thick hands didn't compare to your small, soft, and experienced ones as you began to pump him gently.

"O-Oh," he sighed, his eyes fluttering shut as you rubbed him carefully, allowing your forehead to press gently to his. You could feel his soft, warm pants fanning against your face, gentle moans falling from his lips every so often.

"You're so good for me," you whispered to him, your thumb running over the slit at the head of his cock, earning a shaky gasp from him. Your lips peppered kisses against his, before moving slowly to his cheeks and working your way down his jaw tauntingly.

The feeling of your lips leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses along the skin of his neck and collarbone made him ecstatic. He didn't know what he had done to earn such a heavenly gift from the gods, but he knew he never wanted this to end. He never wanted to be without your touch.

"F-Fuck," he whined, entranced by the look of desire in your eyes as you rubbed him.

His toned stomach contracted gently, his abs tensing as he inched closer and closer to his release. His moans became more guttural, incoherent mumbles to the sound of your name filling your ears.

"I'm g-gonna-" he warned, his eyes fluttering shut. But, before he could finish his sentence, hot, white spurts of his release shot onto his stomach, painting him sinfully as a shaky groan rumbled in his chest in response. It lit something inside you, the way he trembled beneath your touch and moaned your name as if it were a prayer. You could drown in it.

Carefully, you reached for the undershirt you had thrown off and wiped his stomach clean, not caring you had dirtied it and would have to wash it by hand on the morrow.

A calm silence fell between you, allowing his forehead to fall to the crook of your neck as his hands snaked around your waist, pulling your chest flush against his. Your warmth was something he wanted to live in forever. He never wanted to leave this tent.

"You're so-" he mumbled against your skin, his breath faltering as he tried to find the right words. "You're so good at that."

You couldn't help but blush. The way he worshipped you made you ecstatic, your hands raking through his dark curls as you tilted his head up to look at you.

"Can I kiss you?" he rasped. His eyes were full of want, his eyebrows pulling together slightly as he pawed at the flesh of your thigh. Carefully, you moved to bring your lips to his with a wide grin but he stopped you, pulling his head to the side tauntingly.

He shook his head gently. "Not there."

You didn't understand what he meant. Kiss you where?

Cautiously, he pulled you off of his lap and laid you down on the soft furs, his body hovering over yours as he slotted himself in between your legs.

He began to make his way down your body with gentle kisses, nipping at your supple skin as he trailed from the crook of your neck to all the way down between your plush thighs, leaving little love bites in the wake of his mouth as he inched dangerously close to where you needed him most.

"Getting brave, aren't we?" you taunt, his hands moving to tuck your legs onto his shoulders before he gripped your hips with both of his hands firmly, holding you in place as you could feel his warm breath fanning against your glistening core.

He ignored your snide remark, wasting no time before licking a clean stripe against your cunt and beginning to work away at you, his eyes fluttering shut at the sound of your euphoric moans.

Your face contorted with pleasure as you felt his lips wrap around your clit, gently sucking at it, before cautiously bringing his middle and ring fingers to your core and allowing them to curl in an upward motion blissfully.

You had never felt anything like this before. The way his tongue moved against your folds made you ecstatic, wondering what they put in the southern water to make him so good at what he was doing.

"J-Jon," you gasped, your fingers combing through his dark locks and giving them a good tug, earning a moan from him as it vibrated against your core and only pushed you closer to your high. Your thighs clenched around his head in an attempt to pull him closer to you, the tip of his nose brushing up against your clit just enough to make you jolt with a shaky gasp.

He enticed moans out of you like never before, licking and sucking at your core in ways you didn't even know were possible. He seemed so skilled for claiming to have never touched a woman before. Could he have been lying to you?

Your eyes practically rolled to the back of your head as you saw his hips begin to grind slowly against the furs as he lapped away at your core, his cock hard once more from the sweet taste of you. Moans grumbled in his chest as he squeezed your thighs tighter, his fingers sure to leave bruises on your supple skin.

The abrupt feeling of his fingers pulling out of your core made you whine. But his tongue entering you was enough to make you see stars, your back arching up off the soft furs as you could feel the tight coil in your stomach begin to snap.

Your wanton moans filled his ears, loud enough to be heard by the rest of the camp, but you didn't care. Your only concern was him and your climax—which wasn't far off.

"Gods!" your heel dug into the middle of his muscular back as you gripped the furs at your side, your orgasm washing over you unlike ever before. Your thighs trembled gently around Jon's head, his mouth pulling away from your core, his chin glistening with your release as he watched you with a lazy smile while you writhed in pleasure before him.

He pulled himself up so he was hovering over you once more, his face a mere few inches from yours as your chest heaved up and down, coming down from your high. Your eyelids felt heavy as he gripped your hip, and the sheer look of lust in his eyes made your lips crash against his hungrily.

You could taste your release on his lips as his tongue slipped into your mouth, not even thinking before wrapping your legs around his waist and flipping him over on the furs, now sitting on his lap as he laid breathlessly beneath you.

You smiled at the way he looked up at you with want, his hands playing with the flesh of your ass impatiently. His hardened cock beneath your wet core made it hard for you to concentrate, but you still managed to roll your hips against his tauntingly.

"Just lay there, sweet. Let me give you what you want," you rasped, your hands splayed flat on his chest as your teasing became nearly unbearable for him.

"Please," he pleaded. "I need to feel you."

Slowly, you brought your hand to grasp him gently, giving him a few pumps before guiding him towards your entrance as you hovered over him, your eyes not leaving his as you sank down onto him.

Relieved moans left your mouths in unison, your cunt stretching around him sweeter than he could imagine. Your warmth made his heart flutter, his hands gripping your hips firmly as he waited for you to move.

Soft whimpers filled the space between you as your hips slowly began to roll across his lap, your nails raking down the front of his toned chest as you fell into a steady pace. His mind was fogged with the sheer sight of you on top of him, finding the gentle bounce of your breasts with every movement entrancing.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he breathed, his head falling back as he screwed his eyes shut, which couldn't help but send a wave of pleasure straight to your core. You couldn't help yourself when your fingers trailed to your clit and began to rub the sensitive bundle of nerves back and forth, clenching around his length with each roll of your hips.

"Gods," he cursed, sitting up from his spot on the soft furs as you still guided your hips back and forth on his cock.

Your arm automatically slung around his broad shoulders as his own pulled you closer to him by your waist while he propped himself up with his free hand, allowing him to thrust up inside of you and reach deeper than before.

The way the tip of his cock just barely brushed your cervix enraptured you. You were finding it very hard to believe that he had never done this before.

"Right there," you panted out, gripping his bare shoulder so hard your fingernails were sure to leave tiny crescent indents in his skin. His pace quickened, slowly becoming more desperate and sloppy as your moans grew with it. You were sure the entire camp could've heard the lot of you by now.

His lips met yours in an instant, a poor attempt on Jon's part at silencing you as best he could. You allowed his tongue to roam your mouth, your fingers collecting at the nape of his neck to hold him closer to you. But to his surprise―with a sudden thrust of his hips―your teeth caught his bottom lip with a moan.

"Ahh," he hissed, the metallic taste of blood collecting at the front of his mouth. He pulled back, panting heavily as the look of lust didn't leave his eyes. Your lips were reddened and wet, and the way your tongue poked out barely to wipe them clean made a low groan rumble in his chest.

Within an instant, he smashed his lips back onto yours, pushing you back so you were laying flat on the furs now with his hips between your legs, his length still inside of you as he wasted no time to begin a steady pace pistoning in and out of you messily.

"Jon!" you moaned, his cock stretching you perfectly with each thrust. His lips attacked at the supple skin of your neck, peppering little love bites trailing down over your collarbone. You could feel him wince between moans against your skin as your nails dug into his back uncontrollably, leaving long, reddened welts along his pale skin.

Your fingers trailed slowly up to his hair, giving it a good tug as you brought his lips to yours. Your movements earned a low grumble in the back of his throat in response, his hips beginning to stutter as he could feel his climax rising.

You weren't far off either, with his sweet, incandescent moans that made the coil in your stomach tighten filling your ears. "Are you gonna come for me, baby?"

A guttural moan ripped through Jon's throat at your soft whispers, unable to form words as he nodded his head breathlessly. You could feel his cock twitch inside of you, his last few thrusts hard and deep before pulling out of you—just enough to send you over the edge of your high.

You swiftly propped yourself up on your elbows, breathless from your climax as he pumped his shaft a few times before releasing himself all over your stomach and chest. His face contorted with pleasure as you watched him with amazement, a sly smirk creeping on your face as he came hard.

A gentle silence fell between the two of you as he caught his breath, moving to lay next to you on the soft furs and wrapping his arm around your waist before pulling you close to his side. His warmth burned against your cheek as you laid your head on his chest, running your fingers lazily across his skin.

"You were right," he whispered against your hair, pressing a kiss to your head as you snuggled your face into the crook of his neck. You smiled against his skin, "How so?"

You lifted your head up, meeting his darling brown eyes as a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

"I'm far much warmer with you."

#jon snow smut #jon snow #game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #got #fanfic #scarlet was here!#jon snow x reader

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captainjunglegym · 2 months

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WIP WEDNESDAY - 13/03/2024

Tagged by jon @bigassbowlingballhead love u pal <3

I am on somewhat of a short writing sabbatical I tell myself. I've posted nearly 75,000 words in six weeks which is a lot for me. So I'm taking this week to relax from my WIPs before starting to post scheduled oneshots and start a new chaptered fic.

That being said i wrote a 1500 word fic this morning which you can just have here lmao.

Summary:

Exes Alex and Henry meet at the funeral of Henry's twin George who was killed suddenly aged only thirty-five. They haven't seen each other in four years.

The wind is bitter as it blows down from the top of the hill. It’s March, so it’s that time of year where the sun isn’t quite ready to negate the feel of the chill early in the morning and late into the evening. It’s already eleven am and the sun does feel warm when the wind dies down. A few moments reprieve where Henry doesn’t have to pull his coat tighter around his body or wish that he’d worn something that was more wind proof.

They don’t really make raincoats that are funeral approved, however.

Still, he pulls his thin black pea coat so it doubles over him. It’s too big. It’s not his. It was too big for George too, but his brother loved to wear oversized things. Said it made him feel small and holdable.

The thought crushes Henry. What he’d give to hold George now.

Everyone else has already gone. His mother didn’t even show. Her grief is exponential, increasing and deepening at such a fast rate now that she cannot be touched. Losing her husband young destroyed her, but burying one of her children eviscerated her. Not even the scars of her former self remain anymore.

And Henry understands. More so maybe this time than when his father died. He loved his father so much, but George was his twin, the other half of his soul. Maybe this is what his mother felt. Maybe this is what it feels like to break apart. Except she isn’t haunted by her husband by every reflective surface, by every future birthday. By every photograph of his childhood, every fucking Instagram post. By every friend they had because they didn’t even have separate friendship groups. Everything they had they had together and now Henry inherits it all.

It's too much.

(continues under cut, tags following)

It’s times like these that Henry curses being raised as an atheist. He wishes he could believe that something came after this, that he and George will meet again, but he can’t. People tell him that George is in a better place. A dark part of him agrees that six feet under some fucking dirt is probably better than living in a two bed on Peckham Highstreet. It’s a lot cheaper.

Henry gets the sudden urge to jump into the grave. It’s open, waiting for someone to come and cover George and seal him down there forever. Henry could just jump in with him.

“I didn’t think anyone would still be here.” A voice says from behind Henry, startling him.

He turns to see a beautiful man wrapped up in a warm black coat and scarf. It’s Alex, because of course it is. Who else would be so late to a funeral they miss the entire service. Who else would spring up out of the ground at Henry’s moment of despair like some kind of macabre dandelion.

“Right on time, I see.” Henry tries to snark, but his voice comes out small and fragile.

“My flight was delayed.”

Henry hums. “Nice to know George wasn’t worth flying out a day in advance.”

“Don’t.” Alex says, firmly but not aggressively as he moves to stand next to Henry. “Don’t do that, H.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t act like I didn’t care about him too.”

Henry feels crazed, like he wants to scream and tear off his clothes and jump into the lake and inhale the water.

He lets out a forced laugh instead. “Oh right! Of course. My apologies. Of course my ex-boyfriend who I haven’t seen in four years also cares about my fucking dead twin brother, so much so that he shows up uninvited at his funeral an hour too late. I’m sorry for being so insensitive.”

“H-”

“-No!” Henry shouts. It’s so out of character that it snaps Alex’s mouth shut. He lowers his voice. “No. I don’t know why you’re even here.”

Alex looks down at his shoes. “Would you believe me if I told you Philip invited me?”

Henry scoffs. “Pull another one.”

“It’s true,” Alex says gently. “He called me…after… He called me when, uhm-”

“-When George was stabbed to death in a pub in broad daylight?”

Alex lets that sit for a moment. “Uhm. Yes. He called me again to invite me.” He takes a deep breath and when he speaks again his voice cracks, “we were together for ten years, Henry. I loved George like he was my own family. We were a family.”

And they were. Alex had met Henry at university, and they fell in love almost immediately. Alex had transferred to London and George was assigned to be his ‘buddy’ and he’d always taken credit for introducing Alex to Henry. Always said that he’d have to mention that in his speech at their wedding.

The air leaves Henry’s body, but he doesn’t breathe out. It just evaporates in his lungs. He and Alex never got married. George never got to give his speech. And now George will never be able to give a speech at his wedding. Never be his best man.

But he has to give it to Alex. George was his friend and he know that they’d sort of kept in touch over the years, in an Instagram comment every couple of months. He never begrudged George of that. Their breakup was hard, and Henry got everything. Got their friends, their flat, the whole fucking country. Alex had gone back to Texas and not looked back. George was collateral in their breakup too and Henry knows that losing Alex was tough on him as well.

“H?” Alex is hesitant, but he gently takes Henry’s hand in his.

“I don’t know how to do this.” Henry says suddenly. “I don’t know how to do any of this without him.”

George was his better. The two-minute older brother who was confidant and sociable, who looked after Henry every fucking day for thirty-five years. Who literally and metaphorically held Henry’s hand throughout all of their hardships. Henry remembers their father’s funeral, how Philip was stone silent, and Bea was high, and their mother was vacant. How George, only eighteen, took charge and read a eulogy. He was a lighthouse built onto the rock, so strong and bright.

Afterwards George had cried, they’d both cried, in each other’s arms. But the next day George had got out of bed and forced Henry to do the same.

“It’s going to be hard; I know.” Alex says, squeezing his hand. “But you’re stronger than you give yourself credit. I mean. Look at me. You left my sorry ass.”

Henry thinks about how Alex had lost himself in his work and how their relationship had degraded over six months of broken promises and missed dinners and sitting alone in their apartment. And how it broke him down into nothing before he’d finally had enough. They’d both had enough.

He’s heard that Alex is doing better now. That he’s finally learning how to have that work/life balance that was only a dream to them back then.

“I’m all alone this time.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes I am. Bea has Michael and the twins. Philip is…well he’s Philip. Mum is completely vacant and our friends are all grieving.”

Henry knows Alex is going to say some placating bullshit like, ‘oh it’s okay you have me,’ like he doesn’t live thousands of miles away.

“You should come stay at the lake house.” Is what Alex says instead.

“What?”

The lake house was their place. Before everything went to shit, they often spent time there, sometimes with their friends, sometimes with Alex’s family, sometimes just the two of them. It’s a haven, really. A place where time doesn’t exist. All sunshine and water and blues skies.

“Come stay at the lake house. Get away from London for a while.”

“But my family-”

“-Be a little selfish for once, H.” Alex turns to him and looks him in the eyes. “I don’t have to be there. You can just come and unwind in the sun. Take a break from this all and have time to grieve properly.”

It’s insane. It’s irresponsible. It’s not possible. He buried his brother an hour ago, his family is falling apart again but.

But this time they all have their own families to fall back on. Their own spouses and kids. Even his mother lives with Philip and Martha and has them to look after her.

Henry lived with George, not out of necessity, but out of love. George who’s dead. George whose dirty tea mug is still on his bedside table and his laundry still in the hamper.

He can’t go back there.

“Okay.” Henry says. “Okay I’ll come with you.”

And, later, it’s hard to get on the plane. But once he’s in the air, he takes his first deep breath in weeks.

[End]

easy tag for @anincompletelist @eusuntgratie @nocoastposts @getmehighonmagic @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @violetbaudelaire-quagmire @littlemisskittentoes @thinkof-england @happiness-of-the-pursuit @wordsofhoneydew @sparklepocalypse @magicandarchery @sunnysideprince and anyone i've forgotten plus open tag for anyone!!!

#writing tags #my fics

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puppiesandnightlock · 6 months

Text

Link: My Blood (super sons week day five)

Summary:

Damian reflects on the use of the nickname "dami" and jon tells him abt some new words he learned in arabic.

also known as some angsty shit that started out rlly sweet but ended with a possible dead damian??

The first time that Jon had called Damian “Dami”, he had instantly recoiled, with a stubborn response of “Don’t call me that.”

After all, how could he know what it meant to him?

Nevertheless, he persisted. His brothers had taken to calling him what they assumed was only a shortened version of his name, as well as his father on rare occasions.

After a particularly hard battle, Jon had said it with such reverence, he nearly believed him when he did, although he was quick to snap back at him.

A few similar altercations like that, and Jon had stopped, changing it to various other little nicknames, somehow only ringing it out in the most dire of situations, when emotions ran high.

It sent a pang to Damian’s heart, because although he wouldn't admit it, he missed hearing the word from his lips.

And if he were to die, that would be the last thing he wanted to hear.

“NO! No, Damian, stay with me. Stay with me, bud, just a little longer..” Jon’s face was streaked with tears, and Damian reached a bloodstained hand from where he was laying, his head on Jon's lap.

“Isn’t it funny?” He said suddenly, the world going dizzy.

The sky behind Jon was an orange-purple hue, the battlefield littered with bodies and metal pieces, and battered heroes stubling together, trying to find each other.

“What’s funny, D?”

“You all call me Dami. and here I am, covered in my blood. ”

“Damian, Damian, please don’t-” Jon choked out, looking anywhere but Damian’s stomach, where an alien spear had pierced through the kevlar of his suit.

His hand cupped Jon’s face, bringing him back towards him.

“Hey. Hey, look at me. It’s okay. You can let go. I’ll be okay, I promise.”

A heartbroken laugh sounded from the younger boy as he looked down at him, brushing the matted hair from his emerald eyes.

How he would miss them..

“Oh, Dami…”

“I’ll be okay, Jon. You know why? Because I'll have you with me wherever I go.” He gave a smile, the broken domino on his face sliding down.

Jon held him, desperately praying for a miracle, for at least a Bat to show up to see Damian should the worst happen.

His eyes grew heavy, and he let a smile grace his lips. “You know to tell them I love them, right?”

“Dami, stop, you're not going to die, you’re not!”

The younger boy pleaded with him, the pain in his face something that hurt Damian more than the gaping hole in his stomach.

“Call it a nap, then. Will you talk to me? I want to see you smile.”

A wobbly grin spread across his features, and his hand ran through the bleeding boy’s hair as he began to talk.

“I was so confused, why you were always so mad when I called you Dami, why you always told me to stop. I remembered you did speak arabic a lot, and so i looked it up. I found how much it must have meant to you, so I switched it up. I used it only when I wanted you to know I meant it.

“You are my blood, my heart, my soul. You’re a part of me, a teammate, my partner. I found a few more terms like that. Hayati was my favorite. That describes who you are to me, Dami. You’re my life, my light…my whole world. I love you so much/”

His eyes shut, and the world went dark, He floated off in his mind, to wherever this would take him, with the reminisce of the words Jon had left him with.

I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you. My life.

Hayati.

A/N:

DAMIAN NUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU

okay, you choose, did he die or was he saved????? personally i would have gone with death lmao yes i did cry a lil writing this thats how u know its good lol

i may be persuaded to put up a poll on who wants him to die and who wants him to live and write a sequel on whichever is most popular O.o

if u read it and feel the need to screm at me for doing this, go ahead id love to c it lmao

for @super-sons-week-2023

#jondami #damijon #jonathan kent #damian wayne #possible charecter death #open ending #you choose if he lives or dies #angst #i was supposed to b fluff i swear-#robin damian wayne #superboy jon kent #blood is mentioned so like #sad #like very sad #sort of love confession?#like u can read it platonically or romantically #i got a vague mix of both #super sons week 2023

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clownhonkbonk · 28 days

Text

to any interested here are my reactions i remembered to write down for the magnus archives in it's entirety :3 it's not too many bUt this is what you get

the episode numbers are written with them!!

ft me trying to understand the story with a great deal of pain writing on my phone in my notes app mostly at 1 am

REACTIONS 👀

56 sub statment thinf w martin

avtually got tears in my eyes. i love you martin. i love you jon. im so happy he just went " avtually, im rather relieved " or whatever bc hell yes girl u are so unwell.

this show is so addicting.

OMG 28 DAYS LATER MENTION!!!! THE END IS EXTREMLY FUCJING NEIGH!!! not the reference but excited

spooky.

WAY too attached to them

only just skipped the add and " episode Fifty-Eight. Trail Rations" And immediately went " oh NO !! cannibalism :( " and the read the description like LMAOO everytime there's anything relating to food in this podcast i just go " oh no it's cannibalisim "

holy shit it's a woman cannibal, diversity WIN

WHAT THE FUCK I REALISED WHATS HAPPENING WHEN THEY'RE BOTH DEAD

benjamin wtf homie this is NOT good bedroom foreplay

ouuugg auch good writing.

i understand the possible cannibalisim thing now

YES JON OFC THEY R WORRIED ABT YOU YOU DUNBASS IM CRYING PLS

at lwast he doesn't think it's martin as much anymore ❓❓❓❓

i NEEEED to stop going through s1 animatics but QOW this fanvase is awesome i love all the designs.. i used to think martin and tim were the same person for a few episodes

honestly hell yeah tim. shout at jon for being weird. but also sike you can't leave.

insane.

ok im like halfway through this but like so for the deities / entities that r silly

we got

eyes, spider, diseases / insects ( though they maybe different ) and meat maybe???? maybe there's just three..

oh oh the guys r all core fears / most common fears, one extra is THE STRANGER OOOOoooOooooO

i love you martin for filling in n trying to take over for jon ur such a cutie

idk how much i believe that elias did it but like all evidence does point to that

actually love their lil dynamic. cuties.

103

OUUUGH JON WHAT THE FUCK DID U USE UR BRAIN POWERS ON HIM WTFFFFF

104

martin is getting spaceyyyyy uh oh.... be careful bb..

107

jon have you been DRUGGED?!?! (8:00)

jon bb mayb take a break you seem to be like having iron deficiency LMAOO

111

ok we got 14 whores of the universe

1 end - death

2 eyes

3 vertigo

4 the stranger

5 the spiral - madness

6 isolation - fear of being alone / seperated form ppl

7 burning/fire

8 the desolation

9 the slaughter violence

10 the web - also being manipulated

11 the vast

12 filth disease insexts

13 claustrophobia

14 darkness

the meat ❓❓❓

124

OUUUGH HE LITERALLY DITCHED THE RECORDING JUST TO RUN AFTER MARTIN the gays r getting to me

126

WHAT HTEH FUCKKK !>??!?!?!? !??

bro this is NOT therapy. bro ham lukas peter you dickwad what the fuuuuuuuuuuuck.

ISOLATION??????????????????????? WHY IS THE ISOLATION GOD POKING AT MARTIN ?!?!?!?!?!?!??! DICKWAD??!?!?! ?criyng asobbign why

i actually low key love lukas " dynamic duo " is sO funny sjkdjk

martin i miss u come back it;s not woRTH ITTTTTT

fuck i draw jon like trent crimm if he was a twig and gayer and green

131

i physically recalled at the start they've IMPROOOVED their aUDIO... fucking crazy.

also bitches be bitching ( jon AND melane )

honestly fuck yeah helen girl

133

girl is dealing wth SOOO much trauma poor girl........... jeez.

cannot stop thinkin about martin :(

i miss tim.

134

WOOOO MARTIN

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH HE LEFT THE TAPES FOR JON WTF

the buried / cave

the end

the corruption / filth

the dark

the desolation

the eye

the flesh

the hunt

the lonely

the slaughter

the spiral

the stranger

the vast

the web

135

feeks like they're reading together but w a wall in the way which is sad

142

MARTIN PLEASADEEE

also jon what the fuck please don't be a dick this lovely lade lost her job and gained so much trauma.

143

jon stop using ur thing constantly on people it makes me worried for you and insanely pushes you to not being human.

jon i know she tried to hurt you both but ur being so mean, im WORRIED.

hell YES hellen

144

martin im still upset at you for going " why does no one tell me anything !!!! " while literally avoiding them and asking yhem not to talk to you!!! wtf broham.

anyway loving this story

145

gertrude what a girl holy cow<3

146

IM SO WORRIED ABT MARTIN AND JON GUUUUUUH WHAT THE FUCK.

150

jon u r so self destructive...

151

holy ahit simon fairchild..

154

what the fuck im sobbing what is this good omens bullshit i love it but im crying not really but like heartbreaking????

171

i don't know if jons gonna survive if he doesn't stop getting weird and weirder.

also adorable "is he your boyfriend?!"

" yes actually "

jon what the fuck w u n these flesh flowers

ok hi!! thst was the last one.:3

i didn't write down reactions for further episodes but if we can bring our attention to me writing at some point ( in early season 5 ) in my sketch book " 10 bets jon or martin dies at the end "

#tma spoilers #times a million.#tma #the magnus archives #sorry about the... crude language and insults. i was never once in my right mind 😔

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lemonhemlock · 1 year

Note

Any thoughts on what would happen if stannis was there during dance of dragons? Green or black? (I know he didn't have a great opinion on rhaenyra but if he lived during that time?)Do u think he would like any of them ? He cares about honor and stuff so i feel like if he can tolerate targs he would be a green. Also him and otto feels like they could be buds against daemon atleast to me.

Shireen was smart enough to realise that both of them egg and rhae were terrible. Do u think stannis would want to betroth his child to one of their teams?

Just weirdly thought of him since I agree with u that got starks and green/black targs won't really mesh well.

One more thing do you think any of got starks would like rhaenyra? Arya, jon, ned etc

The thing is, anon, Stannis already makes his opinion on Rhaenyra abundantly clear in the text; there is no reason for us to make guessing games.

"Rise, Ser Davos," Stannis commanded. "I have missed you, ser. I have need of good counsel, and you never gave me less. So tell me true—what is the penalty for treason?"

The word hung in the air. A frightful word, thought Davos. Was he being asked to condemn his cellmate? Or himself, perchance? Kings know the penalty for treason better than any man. "Treason?" he finally managed, weakly.

"What else would you call it, to deny your king and seek to steal his rightful throne. I ask you again—what is the penalty for treason under the law?"

Davos had no choice but to answer. "Death," he said. "The penalty is death, Your Grace."

"It has always been so. I am not . . . I am not a cruel man, Ser Davos. You know me. Have known me long. This is not my decree. It has always been so, since Aegon's day and before. Daemon Blackfyre, the brothers Toyne, the Vulture King, Grand Maester Hareth . . . traitors have always paid with their lives . . . even Rhaenyra Targaryen. She was daughter to one king and mother to two more, yet she died a traitor's death for trying to usurp her brother's crown. It is law. Law, Davos. Not cruelty."

"Yes, Your Grace." He does not speak of me. Davos felt a moment's pity for his cellmate down in the dark. He knew he should keep silent, but he was tired and sick of heart, and he heard himself say, "Sire, Lord Florent meant no treason." (A Storm of Swords, Davos IV)

Stannis is a legalist if there ever was one. He follows the letter of the law; that is why he spares Davos' life, but cuts off his fingers for being a smuggler. Rhaenyra is legally in the wrong here, so Stannis would never support her, since Aegon has the better claim in accordance with the laws of the time, King Viserys' whims notwithstanding. Stannis obviously doesn't interpret oaths taken before Aegon's birth as having legal value.

Furthermore, the second reason why Stannis would never support Rhaenyra is because she is trying to place her bastard children in the line of succession. Stannis' entire war for the Iron Throne is predicated on Cersei's children being bastards and, thus, very much not Robert's heirs. To think that Stannis would accept Jacaerys as King is preposterous.

Shireen was smart enough to realise that both of them egg and rhae were terrible.

Shireen, as sweet as she is, interprets the civil war through the lens of human suffering. However, the unfortunate practicalities warrant that one can't not choose a side, since someone has to occupy the hollow of the crown, as the very foundations of society demand it. Leadership vacuum leads to political instability leads to lawlessness and violent conflict. The breakdown of the state is never a peaceful time, as so many failed/fragile states in our own history have demonstrated. "Not choosing" would not spare Westeros from the suffering of its most disadvantaged.

This is a much more complicated discussion and people can choose to disagree with me on this but I personally and philosophically do not believe that societies can prosper outside of the social contract and for that you need a structure in place to enforce it. Call me a white bitch brainwashed by the European conceptualization of the state, if you want, but I'm not going to be suggesting that the answer to Westeros' problems is to transform overnight into an anarchical utopian society.

Therefore, IMO, an alternative universe in which neither Rhaenyra, nor Aegon make a play for the throne is a foolish scenario. When in history did that ever happen? When has that ever been believable in the slightest? So how do we make the transition of power if we do not follow the law? The answer is seizing the throne by conquest. If Rhaenyra wants it so much, she'd better come and get it with fire & blood.

All of this, of course, begs the question of how do we achieve a better, more egalitarian society, when the law clearly isn't the fairest it can be? Well, how did it happen in real life in the first place? The answer that nobody wants to hear is through incremental progress, slowly, with difficulty and constant struggle.

Do u think stannis would want to betroth his child to one of their teams?

IMO if Stannis would have been Lord of Storm's End during the Dance, he'd probably accept Aemond's betrothal to Shireen.

One more thing do you think any of got starks would like rhaenyra? Arya, jon, ned etc

Rhaenyra's rule is predicated on a dozen norm-transgressions, so no. :))

#ask #anon #anti rhaenyra targaryen #succession for the iron throne #bastardposting #stannis baratheon #shireen baratheon

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xxpeppermintxx109 · 9 months

Note

Dearest Mint,

Haven't been on tumblr since it deleted my account a while back (rest in peace anonymousgothic) but I simply had to get back on here to commend you on your work. You've done it, once again. Another hit. This 3rd gen book has punctured one of my organs and rotted my brain -- that is how deeply it managed to nestle its way into me. Like I genuinely have to break bones to make room for it.

First, we must discuss Laena. There are no words in the English dictionary that can describe how satisfying it is that a Targaryen/Lannister baby has been born and bred within the walls of the red keep -- with Tywin and Robert and Cersei none the wiser. I wish so badly for her to know her true identity and understand her worth; I want so much good for her. I find it so thrilling that you chose for her to be based in King's Landing (for now) -- and do not think I didn't pick up on the fact that she's mapping out Shaemond's tunnels and yearning for the sea! I miss nothing!

I also cannot wait for her to know and love Jaime, but I am nothing if not a patient woman when it comes to you and your perfectionist pacing, Mint. I see a Daemon x Shaera dynamic in their future (and a very angsty journey à la Jaime-held-captive-while-Laena-sleeps-with-a-wolf-king!) and that hope alone will keep me sustained for now.

Second, Brynden. If I had a nickel for every time a bastard believed himself to be the son of Ashara Dayne, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice! Am I worried that Dany will take this betrayl even worse than she took Jorah's? Yes. Am I hoping the power of love overcomes? Also, Yes. Cannot wait for him to meet his aunt (who I know you will do right by) and his uncle (truly the most beautiful Targaryen, if only his personality matched). His history with Jorah and honesty just his background in general intrigues me, Arya would worship the ground he walks on, I already know. Also, whilst I see much of Rhaenyra in Laena's demure and yet childishly wild persona, I see so much of Arthur in Brynden. All of that honor -- um, career choice aside!

Third, the TRUE heir to the iron throne. Rhaegar's emo boy complexity is strong in this one. Quite possibly the most original storyline to ever be given to a Game of Thrones original character. And by far one of the most enticing. He's so morally grey and to see that clash with Jon's annoyingly fierce sense of honor will be...delicious. The fact that he wields Dark Sister honestly put me in a coma, and I only awoke to type out this novel-length review (Do not attempt to contact me once you finish reading this for I will be falling back into my state of prolonged loss of consciousness).

Also do I have a major soft spot for him because he is eldest daughter coded? Do I love him because of how much he mirror Viserys -- the older siblings who remembers everything and has been left with nothing on the outskirts of the kingdom he was due to inherit? Answer is maybe.

In short; wow. Truly, Mint. You created a multiverse that puts Marvel to shame. I cherish each and every one of your characters, and can do nothing but thank you and remind you of how powerful you truly are. I still have people emailing me about your work -- and it takes all the power in the world to simply point them in your direction and not go on a 10 page rant about how much they're gonna love it.

All my love, your biggest fan,

Anonymousgothic

excuse me while I go scream cry and throw up, I love you for this so so so much, I can’t even articulate it (and I’m so sorry I can’t put it into such beautiful words how grateful I am for this cause I am deceased by how big my heart is for you, and for this). Thank you for picking out the smaller details and thank you for the love and support. Pls know u are adored (by me hehe)

- mint

#thedragonmusthavethreeheadswip #the dragon must have three heads #greenliesblackheartswip #thedanceofdragonswip #game of thrones fanfiction #xxpeppermintxx109 #fanfic #anon ask

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fierypen37 · 2 years

Text

The Truth Bites

Jon threw down a wad of cash on the glass countertop—his winnings from the pool Tormund had started. No one had expected him to actually capture Daenerys’ interest, least of all Jon. But, miracle of miracles, not only did she look his way, but she loved him. Daenerys Targaryen was in love with him. It blew his mind.

“What’s caught your eye, ser?” The saleswoman asked. Jon poked the glass.

“That one. The little dragon one.” It was a sleek silver chain with a dragon pendant delicately wrought in sterling silver, poised in mid-flight. After his misstep of the key, Jon realized Daenerys deserved a sparkly gift from him, and remembered her little dragon earrings from their first date. The saleswoman rung up his purchase and arranged the necklace it a rectangular black velvet box. Not ring shaped, though Jon was already counting his pennies for an engagement ring. Daenerys deserved something beautiful and unique just like she was.

The pretty jewelry bag looked far too fragile in the dirty passenger seat of his Jeep. Happy nerves leapt in his belly. He would get to see her at the bar in an hour. She wanted to spend some time with him before open tonight. She had to work tonight, so this would be a brief early dinner and a couple kisses before they had to part ways. Before, the parting always opened an emptiness in his gut. Missing her, wondering what she was doing, how her day was going, when he’d get to see her again.

That anxiety eased up a bit after she’d moved in last week. Arya was getting very demanding via text messages on when the big Meet-The-Family thing would happen. Arya’s last text was explicit: U moved in w/ her and I haven’t even MET HER??? WTF, asshole?? Along with a string of vulgar emoticons. He wouldn’t be able to hold her off much longer. Arya had a nasty habit of breaking and entering whenever Jon tried to impose boundaries.

Moved in together. How surreal. Jon loved seeing Dany’s books next to his on the shelf. Her clothes heaped with his on the dirty-clothes-chair. Her hair on his pillow. They went back and forth on chore lists. Exhausted from keeping the bar immaculate, his house was decidedly messy. Dany didn’t mind cleaning—she was very tidy—and Jon didn’t mind cooking.

“I need a cookbook,” he muttered. Classy lady like Dany, he needed to up his game from scrambled eggs and pre-packaged noodles.

Jon pulled into the gravel car park and shifted into park. Typical northern day, overcast, but reasonably warm for summer. He shouldered the door open and felt his way through the dark to his office to tuck the jewelry bag in his office.

“Jon?” Daenerys’s voice seemed to sing on the air. Or he was an idiot in love. Either way, he liked the sound. The smell of Yi Tish takeout didn’t hurt either.

“In the office,” he called.

The Watch was dim and cool, a forest of upraised stool legs. Tom, his cook, was due within the hour to start evening prep. The fluorescents around the billiard tables glowed blue. As he passed, Jon noticed the scratches in the table.

“Damn, I need to re-felt it,” he muttered. Another task in a never-ending list to keep the bar going.

“Hungry?” Dany asked, dropping the plastic takeout bags on the polished bar. Jon skipped the last few steps between them, scooping her up and twirling her in a circle. Dany laughed, twining her limbs around him.

“Starved,” he said, kissing her soundly. Dany hummed, returning the kiss with that lazy sweep of tongue that drove him mad. Bloodflow thundered south. Jon guided her hips lower, grinding his pelvis to hers. While the thought of fucking her against the bar had crossed his mind more times than he was proud of, Jon eased off.

“Maybe lunch first?” Jon said. Her skin was pale and luminous as if she’d swallowed moonlight. Fucking hell, how was she so beautiful? Even washed in florescent blue light, she was like an angel. Her answering smile was all sin though.

“Lunch, then,” she replied, hopping down.

The Yi Tish was cheap, greasy, and utterly delicious. Jon glanced at her as they ate. He was so utterly besotted that even watching her eat was interesting.

“How long is your shift tonight?” Jon asked. Dany worked overnights at a hospital as head administrator. ‘A fancy name for a bean-counter,’ she joked. The question seemed to unsettle her; she flinched a little. Jon frowned, wiping his mouth with a paper napkin.

“Just eight hours,” she said absently.

“Are you ok?” Jon asked. Her posture was rigidly perfect, still and staring at her cup of ice water like it held all the knowledge in the universe. Dread turned the food to iron in his belly. Whatever she wasn’t saying, it was serious as a heart attack. Jon squared himself to face it. Whatever it was, it didn’t matter.

“Jon, I need to tell you something. I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while, but I didn’t know how to say it,” she said in a small voice. Dany looked at him, studying his face as if to memorize it. Fuck. This was bad. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead; nausea roiled in his belly. What in seven hells was she going to say? That she was married? On the run from the government? A serial killer? Dany licked her lips, hands curled into white-knuckled fists.

“I . . . I’m . . . I am a vampire.” After a few moments, comprehension dawned. Relief sluiced through him. Jon gave a tight laugh.

“Oh yeah. I get it. Working in the bar all night, I feel like a vampire too. Shit, Dany. You scared me.”

Daenerys blinked at him.

“I’m serious, Jon.”

Jon flailed, confused. His head was filled with static, meaningless white noise. What? What?

“What are you saying?” he said, his voice coming out in a strangled whine, “if this is a joke, it’s really not funny.” It wasn’t Daenerys’s way to play jokes, but what the fuck else could this mean?

An odd look fixed on Dany’s face, a bleak, world-weary look that sat strangely on her perfect features. For a fraction of an instant, he believed she was an ancient being.

“If only. I wish this wasn’t true, but it is. Three hundred and seventeen years ago, I was turned by a vampire named--”

“Stop it!” Jon said, and jumped to his feet, knocking the stool over in his haste. A confused welter of emotions churned in his belly. Confusion, anger, fear. Dany stood, vibrating with emotion.

“Why are you doing this?” We’re happy. Why are you throwing a grenade at my feet? If it was a joke, it was cruel, unnecessary one. If it wasn’t . . . Jon didn’t have the script for that one. What was she doing? Was this some weird ploy to break up with him? Convince him she’d gone mad? How utterly ridiculous. Dany’s face was creased in misery, one curled fist pressed to her chest. Jon sucked in deep breaths, reeling.

“You deserved to know the truth.”

Anger won out. Jon folded his arms over his chest.

“Prove it.”

Daenerys slid off the stool and righted the fallen one. Jon blinked and she was across the room behind the billiard table. Another blink and she nose to nose with him. Jon clenched his jaw hard enough to make his teeth hurt. Trickery. She could have spiked his drink, made him hallucinate. For what godsdamned reason, he didn’t know.

“Not good enough,” Jon rasped. A frown puckered her brow, but she walked smoothly to the dampened blinds. Jon trailed after her. He knew the supple grace of her movements. Was it unnaturally smooth? A bit too fast? Could it really—She twisted the tilt wand to widen the aperture. Diffuse greyish light filtered in, painting her in stripes. Those violet eyes seemed to glow.

“What are you doing?” Jon said.

“Give it a moment.” There was a break in the clouds, washing Dany’s arm in stripes of sunlight. Her skin smoked. Hissing like a steak on the grill.

“Fucking hells!” Jon said, yanking her back. Her forearm was blackened and peeling. Then, before his wondering eyes, the skin knitted back together into flawlessness again.

“Holy shit,” Jon whispered. The anger fell away. The truth. Cold, hard, honest-to-the-fucking-gods truth. A creature of the night, unable to face the sun without being turned to ash. A vampire. Confusion and fear were thick enough to choke him.

“I think I’m going to throw up,” Jon said.

Dany cursed in that liquid language of hers. Probably some extinct dialect. A bark of half-insane laughter bubbled up. Jon swallowed it with some effort.

“Here,” Dany said, offering a damp bar towel. Jon mopped the cold sweat from his face and sank down into a squat. Puzzle pieces clicked together in his head. Why she never went out during sunny days. Why her stories were vague on details, timing. Why she had no family, no friends nearby. A night-owl loner? What else did that describe? A fucking vampire! She’d yanked the rug out from under his feet and he was rolling on the ground in pain.

“Why are you telling me now?” he whispered.

“I . . . couldn’t fall anymore in love with you. You deserved to know.” Dany’s voice sang again, the words lingering in his ear like music. Jon pushed to his feet. Dany looked as forlorn as a lost child, hugging herself. Jon steeled himself against the instinct to comfort her.

“You lied to me,” Jon said.

“Yes.”

“You should have told me,” Jon pressed. Dany gave a tight, humorless smile and a helpless wave of her hands.

“When should I have told you? The first time I came into the Night’s Watch? When we officially met? When you asked me to move in with you?”

“I don’t know!” Jon barked. After a beat, he said: “This fucking hurts, Dany. You didn’t trust me.” Though dry-eyed, Dany’s eyes were swimming with emotion. If Jon had doubted her love for him, he didn’t now. That look blazed with love.

“I didn’t want to lose you.” The words barely had enough breath behind them to be heard.

Jon’s heart gave a hard, painful twist in his chest. He shoved his fingers through his hair. Paced in long, brisk strides. The confusion and fear mellowed a little. Ok, this was weird. Really fucking weird. Insane, even. But it was still Dany. The one who couldn’t bear to kick Ghost out of their bed when he wanted snuggles. The one who woke Jon up with kisses when he didn’t hear the alarm. The one who rubbed his feet after a long shift at the bar. The first person he wanted to see in the morning, and the last person he wanted to see before he went to sleep. Jon took a good long look inward. He still loved her.

Jon heaved a sigh and turned to face her. He cradled her cheek, stroking her cheekbone with his thumb. Dany started at the touch, eyes wide and hungry. Like a kitten left out in the cold, starved for affection.

“I love you, Dany.”

A choked sound escaped her trembling lips, hiccupping little gasps. She waited, quivering. Jon opened his arms and she fell into them. His heart twisted again to see her so unsure of her welcome. Dany buried her face in his chest, clinging to him for dear life. Tight. Painfully tight.

“Ease up, love. I’m not going anywhere,” he said with a gruff laugh. Dany struggled, attempting to peel back.

“I’m sorry, Jon. I--”

“Hush. Just hug me,” Jon said, clinging harder. Jon rocked her gently from side to side, like a colicky baby. By degrees, he felt the tension unspool. Dany nestled into his embrace; her face tucked against his neck. Tension stiffened his vertebrae, one by one. Was she . . . thirsty? Feeling his tension, Dany peeled back to look at him.

“What is it?” Dany whispered, searching his face. Jon grimaced.

“Do you have . . .” he trailed off, gesturing to his teeth. Like a woman facing the gallow’s stairs, Dany opened her mouth. A faint click and two pearly white fangs lengthened on her canines. No faking that.

“Seven fucking hells,” he whispered, fascinated, terrified, and aroused in equal measure. Fine hairs on the back of his neck prickled. Run. Some inner instinct pealed to get out of there fast. Jon gulped, also unwillingly captivated by the idea of her biting him. Dany snapped her mouth shut with an audible click, looking miserable. Jon didn’t have the mental bandwidth to soothe her—not just yet.

“How do you . . . eat?” Jon said.

“How do you think?” Dany snapped, violet eyes flashing.

“How have I not heard of attacks? On the news and stuff?”

Dany looked insulted.

“I’m not a savage, Jon. I have ways to make the act less . . . violent.”

Questions multiplied on his tongue. A glance at the clock said Tom was due any second. Not the best time or place to discuss this. Dany must’ve read his mind—shit could she actually do that?—for she slung her fashionable purse over her shoulder.

“I’ll go. I’m sure you need time to process all of this,” she said, nervously twisting her mother’s ring around her index finger. Something about the briskness of her movements made him think she was holding onto her composure by a thin thread. Jon didn’t feel all that settled either, but the idea of Dany melting into the night made him really fucking anxious. Would she decide to just leave? Jon caught her hand—cool and fine-boned. Sure, her touch was a bit cool, but Jon ran hot. How had he not noticed something was off? Or—gods—if she had a fucking pulse? Was he really that oblivious?

“I’ll see you at home?” he asked firmly. Home—their home, together. Did she need an invitation? That was a vampire thing, right?

“No, Jon. I don’t want to impose—”

“Impose? You live th—!”

The door opened to admit a whistling Tom. Sunlight poured in from a break in the clouds. Jon flinched, sidling closer to Dany even though she was well within the shadows. The heavyset man was the best cook in Winterfell, and Jon was lucky to have him. There were more lucrative jobs, but Tom stayed with the Watch. He had grand plans for the place: he wanted to organize an open mic night or trivia night at the bar.

“Afternoon, Jon. Dany, good to see you again! Have you listened to that band I told you about at the Crown?” Dany was a better liar than he was, her face smooth and tranquil as she leaned against the bar-top.

“I did! Death of a Scam Artist! They’ve got a great sound,” she said. Whenever their paths crossed, Tom and Dany shared increasingly obscure bands in hopes of stumping the other.

“You should try Teddy Bear Suicide. They play at New Black Hat on Seventh,” Dany said.

“Challenge accepted,” Tom said with a grin, “Off to start prep. You’re manning the bar tonight, boss?”

“No,” Jon said, feeling the touch of Dany’s surprised glance, “Dany’s not feeling well. I’m gonna take her home.” It was almost comical, watching Dany’s impeccable posture slump, affecting a vaguely beleaguered air. Tom frowned.

“Ok. Feel better, Dany,” he said, ducking into the kitchen.

Jon pulled out his phone and sent a text to Gendry to cover his shift. His phone pinged a minute later.

Fine but u have to tell Arya

“You don’t have to do this, Jon. You need time to--” she whispered.

“We’re going home,” Jon growled. He took her hand and towed her toward the door. They had a lot to talk about.

Dany followed Jon obediently, numb with shock. In all the imagined scenarios of telling Jon what she was, this had never been a possible outcome: walking home hand in hand. She expected horror, revulsion, rejection. Jon wasn’t angry or disgusted by the fact that she was an undead monster, no, he was upset that she had lied. What a strange (wonderful, incredible) man. Jon squinted at the sky with a frown, hurrying her along. Was he worried it would rain? Ghost was there to greet them on the porch, bushy tail wagging.

“Hello, love,” Dany said, scrubbing his face against her hip in greeting. Jon watched her with confused, stormy eyes.

“Ghost trusts you,” he said, and she heard the accusation in it. Dany shrugged. Truly she did not know how she earned the wolf-dog’s trust. Other animals shied away from her.

“I suppose he considers me trustworthy.”

Jon lingered on the porch, petting Ghost. Some of the tension was gone, but his full lips pressed into a frown, that scowl line creased between his brows. Perhaps uncertain, but not angry. Dany tried to look as nonthreatening as possible.

“So . . . do I need to invite you in?” he asked. A hard laugh fought its way free.

“Out of politeness, perhaps. Out of necessity, no.” Jon urged her inside with half a shrug. They sat in the living room where they had argued over TV show choices last night. They were deep in a mockumentary comedy about local government that Dany loved. Dany perched on the arm of the couch, careful to keep distance from Jon. Slow, careful. Whatever tentative equilibrium they’d struck, she would rather greet the sun than upset it.

“You were telling me about when you were . . . when you . . .” Jon trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably.

“When I was turned,” she finished delicately. When I died.

“Yeah.”

Dany nodded and affected a lecturer’s tone and posture. Bloodless, boring fact.

“Three hundred and seventeen years ago, I was turned by a vampire named Brynden Rivers. Most called him Bloodraven. I was riding back to my family’s home after my husband died. Bandits attacked. I was the daughter of a wealthy family, so perhaps they wanted ransom. But he was watching. He . . . dispatched the bandits and--” Centuries later, the image of Bloodraven: white-haired, red-eyed, laughing as his fangs dripped blood, keeping pace with her horse without effort was branded into her psyche. The last moments of her human life would never leave her. The terror. The pain.

“He changed me. Into this.” Dany touched her cheek, firm and smooth and pale. Deathless and unchanging. There was more to the story—much, much more—but she didn’t want to overwhelm or terrify Jon. The scowl-line was creased deep. There was another note to his expression Dany couldn’t put her finger on. After a long moment, Jon cleared his throat.

“How old were you?”

“Twenty-six,” she answered immediately. In the flower of her youth, widowed, recovering from a miscarriage. Rhaego. That old familiar pain rose up to welcome her. Gods, how she wished she could cry. As a vampire, grief was like expanding pressure until she felt she could explode, but no possibility of relief. Just crushing pressure until she wished she could die. Jon’s deep northern rumble drew her from her musing.

“Now you drink blood to survive.” Dany hid her wince. A fair question.

“Yes. Human blood.” He flinched at that. Dany bit her tongue. Easy. Gently. Jon shoved a hand through his hair.

“But I’ve seen you eat. We just ate lunch,” Jon said with a helpless gesture. “I can eat food, but it will provide no sustenance. I need . . . blood.” Jon nodded.

“It’s not that much different, is it? You take what you need, just like I take meat from a cow.”

Dany wasn’t sure if she wanted to kiss him or hit him. How could he be so infuriatingly naïve? And how was he ok with being the cow in this situation? She lashed out.

“The key difference being I need the blood of your fellow men,” she said acidly. Jon said he wanted truth, she would give it to him. Unvarnished and unflinching.

“You said you can . . . what did you say? Make it less ‘violent?’” Jon said, framing the operative word in finger quotes. Dany smiled a little. She loved his snark.

“Vampires can hypnotize their prey. Most don’t bother because the end result is death.” Jon took her hand, warm and rough and human. How had he gotten so close? He drew her unresisting form down on the cushion beside him.

“You do, though. You bother,” he whispered.

“It . . . it seems unnecessarily cruel to kill if you don’t have to. I take what I need and send them on their way,” she said, uncomfortable with that admiring look. Jon shouldn’t give her too much credit. She had killed, more than any known serial killer in her three hundred years. Some by accident as a young vampire when thirst gripped her, most on purpose as a form of divine punishment.

“I have a million questions,” Jon said, squeezing her hand. Dany’s heart melted a little. Gods, how she loved this man! She would do whatever he wished, for as long as he would tolerate her. He wasn’t running for the hills yet. That was an encouraging sign.

“I will answer them.”

“You won’t run off on me?” he said, dead serious now. Dany leaned in, slowly, carefully, to gently kiss him. Jon had confided his old grief for the mother who left him. There was still magic in their kisses, judging by the dazed look he wore as she pulled back, she was no less effected.

“I’ll stay as long as you want me.”

#jonerys fanfiction #daenerys targaryen #jon snow #vampire!Dany #bartender!Jon #fp37fic

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cashmere-caveman · 9 months

Note

i searched up news for dark trinity bc of your rb tags bc i missed them too, and then found out that diana has a daughter “lizzie” or “trinity” and she, jon, and damian are speculated to be dc’s new legacy trinity. so, uh, i don’t think we should be expecting anything from the artemis-bizarro-jason trinity anymore, sadly. if you’re anticipating outlaws content in general, there was also a cancelled idea for rose-eddie-jason to be a vol.3 outlaws, but another writer wanted to use rose.

thank u sm for ur service (looking up what i wasnt brave enough to google) but also rip in fucking pieces dark trinity u were fun while u lasted </3

#i loved the team dynamics sm T__T ...... unfortunately. dc is the way it is #im just gonna reread my collection i fear bc the early run was really all we were ever gonna have huh #thank u sm btw. i really appreciate it but jfc does dc know how to run a concept to the ground :(#hand in unlovable hand fr #dc

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bboyplankton · 4 months

Text

R&B/Pop/Alternative Albums 2023

Dende - 95' Civic

Tone Stith - P.O.V. - EP

Arin Ray - Phases III - EP

Jungle - Volcano

Chris Brown - 11:11

Elmiene - Marking My Time - EP

Masego - Masego

Sam Smith – Gloria

Phabo - Don't Get Too Cozy

Ama Lou - I Came Home Late

Casper Sage - Synthesis+ - EP

JMSN - Soft Spot

Abby Jasmine - Growing Pains

Emotional Oranges - Still Emo

Vedo - 7

Kenyon Dixon - The R&B You Love

Kyra - as things grow

Rory - I Thought It'd Be Different

Mahalia - IRL (Deluxe)

RAAHiim - But if iiM Honest

Jessie Ware - That! Feels Good!

Victoria Monet - Jaguar II

Jorja Smith - falling or flying

Vedo - Mood Swings

Jordan Ward - moreward(Forward)

Austin Millz – Breathwork – EP

Azekel – Analyze Love

Teezo Touchdown – How Do You Sleep At Night?

Rum.gold – U Street Anthology

Sebastian Mikael – Phileo Deluxe – EP

Leon Thomas – Electric Dusk

Brent Faiyaz – Larger Than Life

Jacob Lattimore – Closure – EP

BJ the Chicago Kid – Gravy

Kiana Ledé – Grudges

Sabrina Claudio – Archives & Lullabies

Tay Iwar – Summer Breeze

The Teskey Brothers – The Winding Way

Adi Oasis – Lotus Glow

Ellie Ingram – Bad Behavior

Dende – Before We Crash – EP

Saint Harison – lost a friend – EP

Leonard Charles – Heaven – EP

Raheem Devaughn – The Summer of Love

Sy Ari Da Kid – Toxicity At It’s Finest

Omarion – Full Circle: Sonic Book 1

Jane Handcock – World of Women

Khamari – A Brief Nirvana

BLK ODYSSY – Diamonds & Freaks

Elhae – Forotten Flowers

Ambré – who’s loving you? – EP

Noah Guy – Who’s Taken Time?! (Act II) – EP

Chase Shakur – it’s not you, it’s me…it’s love

6lack – Since I Have A Lover

Burna Boy – I Told Them…

Majid Jordan – Good People

Cleo Sol – Gold

Alexis Ffrench – Christmas Piano with Alexis

Terrace Martin & Alex Isley – I Left My Heart In…

Baby Rose – Through & Through

THEY. – Nü Moon

Eric Bellinger – 1(800)HIT-EAZY: Line 2

Jozzy – Songs for Women, Free Game for Niggas (Deluxe)

Diddy – The Love Album: Off the Grid

Paramore – This Is Why

October London – The Rebirth of Marvin

Romy Dya – Transformation – EP

Buju Banton – Born for Greatness

Fall Out Boy – So Much (For) Stardust

Kali Uchis – Red Glow in Venus

Destin Conrad – Submissive

Mariah the Scientist – To Be Eaten Alive

Queen Naija – After the Butterflies – EP

Justine Skye – Dark Side

Maeta – When I Hear Your Name

Love Moor – Love – EP

Valerie Omari – Closure – EP

Mannywellz – Mr. Olúlala – EP

Xenia Manasseh – Love/Hate Pt. 1

Cedric Brazle – …What I Know Now – EP

Selah Sue – Persona (Deluxe)

Ciara – CiCi

Tinashe – BB/Ang3l

Idman – Risk: Reloaded

ATSN – Where Do We Go From Here?

Destra – Unchained

Chiiild – Better Luck In The Next Life

Biako – Feelings Happen

Jastin Martin – Miss Me Yet?

Daniel Caesar – Never Enough (Bonus Version)

Tink – Thanks 4 Nothing

Sekou – Out of Mind – EP

Roy Woods – Mixed Emotions

Terrace Martin & James Fauntleroy – Nova – EP

Forest Claudette – Everything Was Green – EP

Musiq Soulchild & Hit-Boy – Victims & Villains

Traetwothree – Long Story Short – EP

Kevin Ross – Midnight Microdose, Vol. 1 – EP

Lavi$h – You Made A Big Mistake

Chlöe – In Pieces

Cleo Sol – Heaven

Kaleem Taylor – Ember

Adrian Dzvuke – Don’t Worry About It Sweetheart – EP

Devon Gilfillian – Love You Anyway

Nonso Amadi – When It Blooms

Ellie Goulding – Higher Than Heaven (Deluxe)

Brandy – Christmas with Brandy

King Sis – Pendulum – EP

Ebony Riley – ebony – EP

Lojay – Gangster Romantic

Popcaan – Great Is He

Jean Deaux – Heavy

TheARTI$t – ARTchives

Cisco Swank – More Better

Winny – Winny

Yung Bleu – Love Scars II

Hamzaa & 1srael – Rush – EP

Tim Lyre – MASTA

Kevin Ross – Midnight Microdose, Vol. 2 – EP

Ed Sheeran – - (Deluxe)

Saleka – Séance

Gorillaz – Cracker Island

James Blake – Playing Robots Into Heaven

Joya Mooi – What’s Around the Corner

Safe – Safe & Sound

Dinner Party – Enigmatic Society

Yakul – Outlines – EP

T-Pain – On Top of The Covers

Omah Lay – Boy Alone (Deluxe)

Angie Stone – Love Language

Jon Batiste – World Radio Music

Summer Walker – Clear 2: Soft Life – EP

PinkPanthress – Heaven Knows

Amari Noelle – Take II

Cee-Lo Green & Jack Splash – Serious – EP

Ed Sheeran – Autumn Variations

Mac DeMarco – 5 Easy Hot Dogs

Sabrina Carpenter – emails I can’t send fwd:

Arlo Parks – My Soft Machine (Deluxe)

Laufey – Bewitched

Keke Palmer – Big Boss

Jayda G – Guy

Gracie Abrams – Good Riddance

J. Brown – The Art of Making Love

Wanmor – WanMor

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alexinterrupt3d · 7 months

Text

albums/songs in my dr (not completed)

drafts 2016

→ 2516 - luna li/alex rani

→ cloud castle - luna li/alex rani

→ goodie bag - still woozy/alex rani

→ hiii - between friends/alex rani

→ bruise - between friends/alex rani ft. dominic fike

→ sloppy stella - between friends/alex rani ft. dominic fike

→ affection - between friends/alex rani ft. dominic fike

→ sugar - remi wolf/alex rani

→ wyd - remi wolf/alex rani

→ you and your friends - peach pit/alex rani

→ shampoo bottles - peach pit/alex rani

→ seventeen - peach pit/alex rani

→ peach pit - peach pit/alex rani

→ summers over - jordana ft. tv girl/alex rani ft. tv girl

→ kilby girl - the backseat lovers/alex rani

→ nellie - dr dog/alex rani

→ prescription (extended) - peach pit/alex rani

unsent 2017

→ pink + white - frank ocean/alex rani

→ in my mind - lyn lapid/alex rani

→ skin - dijon/alex rani

→ bathroom - montell fish/alex rani

→ time - free nationals, kali uchis + mac miller/alex rani, free nationals + mac miller

→ sometimes - ariana granda/alex rani

→ i wish i missed my ex - mahalia/alex rani

→ love to dream - doja cat/alex rani

→ jealous - nick jonas/alex rani

→ one of your girls - the weeknd ft. jennie + lrd/alex rani ft. the weekend + jennie

→ little bit - lykke li/alex rani

→ close - nick jonas/alex rani

→ all for us - labrinth + zendaya/labrinth + alex rani

→ love on the brain - rihanna/alex rani

→ hotel - montell fish/alex rani

→ kiss it better - rihanna/alex rani

→ die for you - the weekend ft. ariana grande/the weekend ft. alex rani

→ pyramids - frank ocean/frank ocean ft. alex rani

ghosted 2018

→ then (interlude) - willow smith/alex rani

→ prettygrunge.wav - artemas/alex rani

→ peach - kevin abstract ft. dominic fike/kevin abstract ft. alex rani

→ better - khalid/alex rani

→ pretend lovers - montell fish/alex rani

→ STAGEFRIGHT - cody jon/alex rani

→ left side - eloise/alex rani

→ want u around - omar apollo ft. ruel/alex rani ft. ruel

→ love again - daniel caesar ft. brandy/daniel caesar ft. alex rani

→ when you were mine - joy crookes/alex rani

→ infrunami - steve lacy/alex rani

→ skinn - zach templar/alex rani

→ always - daniel caesar/alex rani

→ drunk on a flight - eloise/alex rani

→ the dress - dijon/alex rani

→ 3 boys - omar apollo/alex rani

→ thats no fun - steve lacy/alex rani

→ hungover - eloise/alex rani

→ in this darkness - clara la san/alex rani

→ little freak - harry styles/alex rani

→ could've been - h.e.r ft. bryson tiller/alex rani ft. bryson tiller

feminine 2020

→ she - harry styles/alex rani

→ stargirl interlude - the weeknd ft. lana del rey/the weekend ft. alex rani

→ kiwi - harry styles/alex rani

→ female energy part 2 - willow/alex rani

→ girl like me - alexa demie/alex rani

→ dealer - lana del rey/alex rani

→ 20 something - sza/alex rani

→ celebrity skin - hole/alex rani

→ call out my name - the weeknd/alex rani

→ angel - kali uchis/alex rani

→ glory box - portishead/alex rani

→ honey baby (SPOILED!) - kali uchis/alex rani

→ escapism - raye ft. 070 shake/alex rani ft. 070 shake

→ norman fucking rockwell - lana del rey/alex rani

→ west coast - lana del rey/alex rani

→ sex money feelings die - lykke li/alex rani

→ i don't wanna live forever - zayn + taylor swift/zayn + alex rani

→ liquid smooth - mitski/alex rani

→ sea, swallow me - cocteau twins/alex rani

the 1 2023

→ ladyfingers - herb albert + the tijuana brass/alex rani + the tijuana brass

→ oncle jazz - men i trust/alex rani

→ fade into you - mazzy star/alex rani

→ my love is mine all mine - mitski/alex rani

→ love is the way - thee sacred souls/alex rani

→ baby - summer walker/alex rani

→ vanilla tobacco - eloise/alex rani

→ delicate - taylor swift/alex rani

→ kingston - faye webster/alex rani

→ electric - alina baraz ft. khalid/alex rani ft. khalid

→ still dreaming - raveena/alex rani

→ glue song - beabadoobee ft. clairo/alex rani ft. clairo

→ let the light in - lana del rey ft. father john misty/alex rani ft. father john misty

→ we might even be falling in love (interlude) - victoria monet ft. bryson tiller/alex rani ft. bryson tiller

→ margaret - lana del rey ft. bleachers/alex rani ft. bleachers

→ "slut!" - taylor swift/alex rani

→ real love baby - father john misty/alex rani

→ video games - lana del rey/alex rani

#fame dr #shiftblr #shifting realities #shifttok #sidemen #desired reality #reality shift #scripting #shifting #singer dr #sidemendr

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anitosoul · 2 years

Text

tripreport.020: THE VAST

isolation in expanse 🧑‍🚀

Key Inspirations

Arca (Music artist)

Koreless (Music artist)

DJ Sabrina the Teenage DJ (Music artist)

Specifically the song “Being Alone” (Song)

Space visualizers (YouTube video)

The Met Surrealist exhibit (Art exhibit)

Jon Watts – Spider-Man: No Way Home (Film)

Christopher Nolan – Interstellar (Film)

Night on Earth – “Dark Seas” (TV Show)

Doss’s opening DJ set for Arca (DJ set)

100 Gecs (Music artist)

Playboi Carti (Music artist)

The weird purgatory between Christmas and New Years (Time)

THE VAST Tracklist Act I: entropy

The Hellp – 4up7up

100 Gecs – mememe

Trippie Redd, Playboi Carti – Miss the Rage

Headband Andy – I must apologize – Remix

Slikback, FlexFab – Raw

underscores – Where did you fall

Danny L Harle, DJ Mayhem – All Night

Anz – Unravel in the Designated Zone

Louke Man – Took a Turn

poolsideconvo – anybody else but u

DJ Sabrina the Teenage DJ – Being Alone

Carlos Niño – Esssssssence

Koreless – Joy Squad

Oli XL – Go Oli Go!

THE VAST Tracklist Act II: ether

Doss – Softpretty

AceMo – Through the Pressure

Jacques Greene – Serenity

Oli XL – Cartoon Smile

Loop 7 – The Theme – Lamento

CFCF – Marigold Mix

Jesper Ryom – Apolune

Maddy Maia, Tottie – Spirit

DJ Sabrina the Teenage DJ – We Go On

Magdalena Bay – You Lose!

Harvey Sutherland – Priestess

808 State – Pacific State

Koreless – Shellshock

asc – lose ya

THE VAST Tracklist Act III: abyss

DJ FLP – Close the Door

Erika de Casier – Drama

Arca – Luna Llena

Sega Bodega – Only Seeing God When I Come

DreamWeaver – Altered Reality

Yu Su – Klein

CFCF – Nostalgic Body

PHD & The Funky Technicians – Above & Beyond

Dirty Bird – Midnight

Winslow – Snooze Button Roller

No Rome – Secret Beach

SPIRIT OF THE BEEHIVE – RAPID & COMPLETE RECOVERY

Virgil Abloh, serpentwithfeet – Delicate Limbs

1995 epilepsy – get 2 kno

Returning to NYC after Thanksgiving was a weird experience. I had extended my time in Tulsa so I was gone for about three weeks, which was the longest I had been away from NYC since moving back in May. As my plane descended over Manhattan, it felt like flying into the city for the first time. Something just felt…different. Maybe it was because it was getting cold and the days were becoming shorter. I reminded myself that I had a lot to look forward to, though, like concerts and holidays.

That first weekend back, I had tickets to see 100 gecs. I ended up going with the partner of one of my friends from high school who I met in November when they visited and came to the PQ party. The concert was amazing and the chaos of it brought back a taste of the boundless energy from earlier in the year. Afterwards, we ended up walking all the way from Terminal 5 down Manhattan back to my apartment, talking about life and witnessing the spectrum of human experience pass us by as we drifted through the varied vibes of each Manhattan neighborhood. Getting to connect with someone I didn’t know that well so easily was refreshing and made me excited for the future. Still, there was a feeling of surrealness to everything, like I had entered into some sort of alternate reality. I was working fully remotely at this point, so my office became the various cafes or hotel lobbies in a 1-mile vicinity of my apartment. The lack of familiarity in anything I was doing was bizarre, and I wasn’t sure what else to do besides go along with it.

A few days after that concert, Arca randomly had a DJ set at a small bar close to my apartment. I’ve been training for a marathon, so despite running 12 miles right before, I decided I didn’t want to miss it and checked it out with a friend. It was an interesting experience, given it was on a Monday, I was physically exhausted, and the music was less than accessible. Doss started off the night with a fun set, and afterwards Arca went b2b with Shayne Oliver, the founder of Hood By Air. They absolutely blasted their tracks, doubling the speed to 200+ bpm, setting extremely short loops, and blowing out the speakers, trading sound quality for sheer volume. It was a mix of Latin and hip-hop but didn’t have any sort of natural flow like most DJ sets. Sonically, something about the set deeply intrigued me, but it mostly just added to the surreality I found myself in.

My birthday was the weekend after and I was looking forward to celebrating. I didn’t realize, though, that most of my close friends were already going to be home for the holidays by that time. There were murmurs of the “Omicron variant,” which seemed to be spreading in NYC but the impact of its manifestation wasn’t fully clear yet. I had tickets to Playboi Carti the Friday before my birthday, but the friend I was going to go with didn’t want to risk getting COVID as they were flying home the next day, which I understood. I ended up going alone, and it was yet another surreal experience. I was surrounded by teenagers in the pit as they moshed to the songs played in the interim before Carti went on. I felt like I was one of the oldest people in the pit, and being there alone made it even weirder–not bad, just kind of absurd. When Carti went on, though, none of that mattered anymore. It was arguably one of the greatest concert experiences I’ve had in my life. It was definitely top 5, up there with Frank Ocean, Kanye, Dead & Company, and FKA twigs.

The whole experience was articulated perfectly by this white dad who brought his pre-teen son to the show and called it an anti-concert.

Afterwards, I didn’t want to have my birthday hit while I was in an Uber or something, so I walked over to this bar literally called “That Bar” and had some questionable (creepy) locals try to involve me in their conversation about dating younger women with a 20 year age gap. I was turning 25, so I didn’t have much input to offer. Once again, surreal.

On my actual birthday, my mom was in the city. There were some factors that made this emotionally complicated for me, but I got brunch with her and the people she was visiting with and then decided I would spend the day to myself. I had tickets to see AceMoMA and other Nowadays DJs at a fundraiser for Good Room, but it got postponed due to the Omicron variant. It was cold and rainy that day even though the day before was weirdly sunny and in the 60s, so to make the most of the day I went to the Met, a place I knew I could spend hours inside.

I walked through the cultural exhibits, listening to tracks off LTJ Bukem’s Earth collections of chill drum and bass. Eventually, I got to the surrealist exhibit. I listened to Agor by Koreless for the first time, and I was fully immersed. The music was extremely trippy and matched the visuals in the exhibit perfectly; it was an overwhelming sensory experience. Afterwards, I left the museum, appreciative of the day but ultimately still in a very weird headspace. I was reflecting on what it meant to be alone, especially in a world with the dual stressors of COVID and climate change–the fact that everything was getting canceled brought back difficult memories of March 2020, and the constant shifts in weather felt like a tangible impending crisis. As I did earlier in the month, I tried to just roll with it.

I had tickets to see Spider-Man: No Way Home, so I attempted to get myself in a mindset for enjoying a fun movie. I don’t want to include any spoilers, but the movie ended up being pretty emotional and I was a wreck afterwards. The impressions I had back in July about nothing being promised were eating at me. I called my mom as I left the theater, realizing how foolish it would be for me to give up an opportunity to spend time with her.

My mom came over to my apartment and for the first time I could see how she’s aged. I noticed the wrinkles forming on her face, the strands of her hair turning grey. As a kid, she would rub Vick’s vapor rub on my forehead when I didn’t feel well, and she did the same for me on my 25th birthday. The difference, though, was that it wasn’t in my childhood home, it was in my own apartment in downtown Manhattan.

I recalled that my mom told me when I was a kid, I said I was going to be a doctor and live in NYC with a dog. While it hasn’t fully panned out that way (yet! I will have a dog at some point, doubtful about the doctor part), I couldn’t help but think about how surreal this was for her, too. She spent the night in my apartment, and I set her up in my bed and said goodnight as I went to go sleep on my couch. It was in that moment on my 25th birthday, tucking my mother into bed in my own apartment, that I felt I transitioned into adulthood.

The rest of the month wasn’t any less surreal. My sister and mom visited for the week of Christmas, and on the day my sister arrived I tested positive for COVID. We were left to quarantine in my small apartment, and somehow my mom and sister didn’t test positive afterwards. I spent a lot of time that week mixing with the music that I had been listening to. I was finally able to express the weirdness I had been feeling all month.

The surreality culminated on a random night when I decided to go over to a friend’s apartment and play him the mixes. We listened to them alongside a spaceship visualizer, and it was awesome. That night I realized that December’s theme is THE VAST, split into a trilogy. All month I felt like Matthew McConaughey’s character in Interstellar or Sandra Bullock’s character in Gravity, floating aimlessly in space and left to reflect on the memories of life on earth. That same solitude in the vastness of space was related to the vastness of the ocean, floating at sea.

There was one missing aspect, though, which is represented by the ?-side of the mix, entropy. It’s the chaos, the absurdity, the confusion–accepting that sometimes things don’t make sense, and laughing through it anyways.

Visuals to go with Act I: entropy

Visuals to go with Act II: ether

If you have Netflix, Act III: abyss we discovered that it syncs up perfectly with this episode of Night on Earth: “Dark Seas.”

I found that this month broadly wraps up all of the themes I’ve felt over the course of this year and serves as a worthy conclusion to this series. If you’ve read any of this, I hope you’ve found a part of it you’ve connected with, or at the very least found a song or two that you enjoy.

Have a wonderful 2022.

Peace, Michael

#trip report #music #music writing #lofi #reflects #the vast #SoundCloud #Youtube #dj #dj mix #mix

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chelleztjs18 · 1 year

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Hello you mrs. honey nut cheerio lefty eyebag 😌

I'm glad you're back and hopefully it was a safe flight back!

I'm doing okay, not much has changed hahaha I don't think you've missed much! It's been so so since I was just working and haven't really been out because it was windy and snowy.

You partied hard while in CA didn't you haha just kidding. How did the huckleberry champagne taste? So was it like a Moscow mule?

Uh oh that's not good about your brother in law. You guys hung out with him before he got covid?

Yes the tiramisu turned out amazing. I am thinking of doing another version using a sponge cake. Then the mango dessert was too sweet. I may have used too much condensed milk. But I still enjoyed it.

Of course, I thought of you! Cause I remember you like honey ham, but won't have any. I even finished the leftovers yesterday..it was still so good.

By the way, I saw on google news an article about dark chocolate. Something about them having too much thingy that is toxic and they mentioned Lindt. And it got me thinking of you too because it's the kind you like.. I don't know if they'll be removing it from the shelves or what they're going to do.

What did you get for Christmas? Anything nice? 😌 did Emily get to open the presents you guys got her too?

Those dishes sound good. When you say fried crackers, like shrimp crackers?

Hm let's see, since we did songs... I'll do tv shows and movies next.

Name 3 shows/movies that will always make you cry.

-CuriousGeorge

Hiiiiiii corn-punn lil' jon righty eyebag!!

I'm glad u saw my answer. I thought u were probably sleeping or not interested in sending me curious asks anymore 😅 just kidding. 😁

Yeah i made home safely. My flight was delayed from 5.30 to 6.30 pm. Then they made us waiting longer than that,, it took so long to finally take off. I think we took off around 7.pm. i got home around 1.30 i think. N em got excited when she saw the gift santa left at our house when we werent home, so after bath, she played with the toys until like 3.30am.. i stayed up with her.. so i was pretty tired.

N today, i cleaned up pretty much almost all day, i unpacked n did a lot of laundry loads. I had to do iy because we will go to texas for new year with my cousin n her family.

Aaw it's okay, sometimes not much change doesnt mean that bad, u know? 😊 n i'm glad we r still talking after i got busy for a week n we didnt talk much.

Haha no, i didnt party that hard at my friend's christmas party..it's far from how hard we partied few years ago.lol.

It taste like moscow mule but u can also taste the berry juice my friend made with a hint of ginger beer. I love it..it's really good. I might wanna make it for new year 😅🤣 if it's not complicated to make.haha

Yeah we hung out with him before he got covid.. but so far everybody r okay.. n after christmas we hung out with them in the driveway n he wore mask just so we can give the presents to the kids.

Ah i see.. i think most of tiramisu i ate, they use spongecake. It's not bad, but i think it will be better if it uses lady fingers. This cookies sounds so weird with the name.lol.

Ah i see.i love mangoes. But if it use too much condensed milk, might be too sweet for me. I would still try it though if u make it for me.😁

That was actually sweet of u that u thought of me. Thank u! Yeah, maybe next time,u should try buying it from honey baked ham brand..with the sides..it will be faster to cook n they are tasty.

I didnt eat the turkey that much at all.. because u didnt really like it. Plus i know after that dinner i was going to my friend's party n i know he has so much indonesian food so i was so glad that i safe a lot of space for them. 🤣 he picked the cattering from our friend's mom that we know that her cooking r so delicious.. gosh now im hungry.lol.

Oh yeah i read that a bit of it abou it. But i didnt know it's the lindt brand 😭😭 curious george righty eyebag, u r very sweet that u remember that small detail i told u! I appreciate that.. 😊 once again, thank u! If u didnt tell me i would probably still buy it.

I got shoes from my husband 😊. N i got good amount of cash from his mom. I think i will buy something for my archery stuff with that money or safe it.😊

We didnt tell emily any of them from us.. it's okay, we want her to have a great christmas spirit n believe in santa. 😁

Yes, it's like shrimp crackers.. i love it.😁 anyway, when i went to the indonesian restaurant there, the area has a bunch of philipinos restaurant n now that i know u, it reminds me of u n i wonder if it's easy for u to find philipines food where u live?

Okay, 3 movies that always make me cry, i have to think hard about it because i rarely cry because of movie..n i try not to cry because of movie. Well in general, i try not to cry easily because i dont want people think im weak or something. Sorry i got off track.haha.

So the movies are;

1. Avengers End Game the part that Nat n Tony died.

2. Happy Death Day 2U, the part about the main character's mom that passed away.

3. Between Age Of Ultron or Infinity War (wanda's sad part of course)

What about urs?

Next question?

Cheerio! (Not the cereal ones) 😆

#chellez answers #ask answered #anon answered #curious george anon

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puppiesandnightlock · 3 months

Text

LINK: Goodbye Was Not Our End

Summary: Jon and Damian had made peace with the fact that they would never reconnect. Every little part of their childhood history, built up since preschool had come crashing down, both leaving hidden feelings unsaid. But now, five years later, they have the opportunity to fix everything that had gone wrong, and maybe, just maybe, they could make it something more.

Sometimes, all you need is a second chance.

set directly after A Robin's Song

The phone was taunting him.

It was dark green, a silver W on the back, and a clear case with a robin on it, and currently it was lying on the floor after being viciously thrown to the carpeted floor of Damian’s apartment.

Said person was pressed up against the bottom of his bed, mimicking a frightened cat, hair raised and all. Tears had dried quickly as the shock quickly overcame every other emotion in his mind.

The phone buzzed and he jumped, crouching down to poke at the tech and flip it over before drawing his hand back.

This could not be happening.

When everything had first occurred , he’d been plunged into the deepest, darkest canyon of his mind and emotions, no way out and no one to help him. He wallowed and oh, how he tried to drown himself in the abyss.

He’d begged no one and everyone for a second chance, a moment back, just one more glimpse of what their lives had once been. His nights had been filled with quiet sobs and fitful sleep, before eventually going numb.

Everyone around him tried to lift him up, help him out, save him from drowning. There was therapy and medication and the thing that was there when he finally, finally, finally had a grasp on the rope to be lifted out, was his family, his friends, and his music.

Slowly, busying his mind with the music, he built his life back up, starting something new for himself.

And now?

Now he felt like he was back where he started, the repressed memories and the joy and the excruciating heartbreak overwhelming him, all topped with a healthy dose of fear.

He shut his eyes, inhaling deeply. It was a conversation. He had wanted this conversation for so long, and had always dreamed of a moment where he could try and get back what he had missed for so long.

When he opened his eyes, he made a grab for the phone, immediately clicking on the message saying he had a new DM.

Written across the screen were the words “Hey, D. Missed you.”

He turned around and promptly screamed into his pillow. Something burst inside of him, something fearful and tentative, but at the same time hopeful.

So, so, hopeful.

He typed in a response, deleting it just as soon as it appeared.

What do you say in a situation like this?

An ‘i missed you too’ should suffice. He scanned the little box and deleted it. Too longing in the way his voice read it back to him

Should he just type back a hi? Maybe a familiar nickname? Was he still allowed to call him that?

Every little thing was put on trial and was thrown out, and before he knew it, fifteen minutes had passed.

He gave up, getting up to pace around his home in an attempt to shake the anxiety filling him.

Their cat, Alfred, jumped on the counter as Damian began to brew some tea, absent-mindedly running his fingers through the cat’s short fluff.

“What am I doing?” He murmured to him, voice softly mournful. “What are we doing?”

Alfred meowed at him, and Damian nodded wearily. “Wise advice, Alfred.”

He inhaled the steam from his tea, wrapping his hands around the mug and absorbing its warmth.

Damian retrieved his phone after a bit, clicking on a few messages he had missed with the friends he’d kept from high school, plus someone from the studio he grew close to as he had first started out in his career.

You Can’t Sit With Us (five people)

gotSkyhighdreams: My 2 gradrs hate me u guys [cleanup.img]

Turninurfuckinbooks: this is why i don’t allow paint around small gremlins.

Colinator: could never be me fr

unmatchdwittyandQUEEN: rip sky

flyROBINfly: hey you guys something happened

Damian took a screenshot of the dm and cropped it, watching their messages pile on top of each other on screen.

You Can’t Sit With Us (five people)

Turninurfuckinbooks: what did you do.

gotSkyhighdreams: did you kill someone

Colinator: if you did i’ll help hide the body if u need

unmatchdwittyandQUEEN: same just say the word an ill bring a shovel

flyROBINfly: do any of you watch my streams

Turninurfuckinbooks: not unless a compilation or an edit of u being stupid shows up

Colinator:same tbh

UunmatchdwittyandQUEEN: if the internet doesnt shut up abt a certain interview

gotSkyhighdreams: when im on my lunch break ye

flyROBINfly: first off akira colin you are both dead to me

Second do you guys remember jon

Damian winced as the phone began to blow up, practically jumping from his hands with the pings that began to blow up his phone. It was a rather stupid question but he asked it anyway.

You Can’t Sit With Us (five people)

Turninurfuckinbooks: do we remember jon he asks

Colinator: jon, who you ask me abt every six months without fail bc i have his instagram

unmatchdwittyandQUEEN: jon who is forever known as that bitch in my heart

gotSkyhighdreams: nono we don’t at all remember the drama of the year that brought us together and kickstarted ur career

Turninurfuckinbooks: who you still pine for but have mostly forgotten about so you say

flyROBINfly: there has been no pining fuck off

Colinator: swear jar

flyROBINfly: anyways [screenshot.img]

gotSkyhighdreams: R U SRS

Turninurfuckinbooks: TF????

Colinator: WHAT

unmatchdwittyandQUEEN: EXCUSE ME?!?!

flyROBINfly: what do i say???

Turninurfuckinbooks: block him

gotSkyhighdreams: say hi back??

Colinator: ask him for his insta so u can check urself

unmatchdwittyandQUEEN: block him

flyROBINfly: so so helpful, all of you

never mind i’ll deal with it

The responses were overwhelming, but he felt petty and ignored them, setting his phone down and picking up the cat, setting Alfred on his stomach as he leaned back on the couch of the apartment.

“I’ve waited for this moment a long time, Alfred.” he informed the cat. “So very long and every planned thing left my mind the moment I saw him again.”

“What do you suppose he’s done now? Heard he got married, maybe he has a kid.”

Alfred meowed at him and he nodded. “I suppose you’re right. What would I ever do without you?”

That was how Duke found him thirty minutes later, lying on the couch having an avid conversation with their cat.

He dropped his keys on the entrance table and his messenger bag hung on the coat rack, Damian sitting up.

“I am having a crisis.”

“When are you not?” Duke responded dryly.

“Sarcasm is unbecoming and quite frankly patronizing at this moment.” Damian sniffed, Alfred wiggling out of his grapes and stalking over to Duke, rubbing his fur all over his ankles.

“I’m assuming it has something to do with today’s stream, right?” Duke pulled out his phone, waving it at him.

The online articles were blowing up, as well as various platforms. “I thought I'd ask you first before clicking on this.”

The feelings returned, an anxious churning sensation swirling around him and creating a lump at the back of his throat, pressing down and making the tearful feeling rear its head.

“I…it's Jon.” He pulled up the message and held it out, watching the impact of the words settle on his brother’s faces, eyes moving across his screen multiple times.

“Kent? Jonathan Kent? Are you sure it’s him?” He squeaked.

Damian nodded, the initial shock and feelings having faded slightly, although the remaining ones were funneled into anxiety, leg bouncing rapidly and fingertips tapping out a familiar rhythm.

“Did you respond?” He shook his head and Duke made a pained noise.

“So, you've been waiting for this for five years and the thing you do is leave him on read?”

Damian looked horrified. “Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God, he must think I'm such an asshole.”

Duke winced. “Well, I mean, this is a very telling moment for the both of you, I'm sure he understands, just respond.”

“What do I say??” Damian agonized over the phone, draping himself on the couch, and Duke was about fifty percent certain that their younger siblings spirits had come to possess Damian with their dramatic natures.

“Just say Hi. A simple hello, how have you been?” Duke prompted, nudging him. “If he’s an asshole, you know the rest of us will beat his ass for you.”

“Swear jar.” Damian said half-heartedly.

“I’m an ADULT!”

Duke got up but not before nudging Damian on the shoulder “I’m going to go and do some work, and when I come back, I expect to see a message sent.”

“I am older than you.” Damian scowled.

“And when you act it, I'll acknowledge that.” Duke had a shit eating grin on his face. “Dames, you mothered all of us pretty well til you left the house, so feel free to act your age or whatever.”

Sighing, Damian stared at the familiar logo on his screen. Nothing elaborate, just a diamond S in blue, red and yellow. They’d made them when they were younger, Damain creating the R symbol that came to be well known.

With a deep breath, he typed back, staring at his screen and waiting for the little bubbles to pop up, showing Jon was typing back a response.

It had been three hours since he’d sent the message to Damian, the typing bubbles popping up and dying back down just as quickly. The jumpiness caught up to him, obsessively checking his phone and pacing up and down his hallway.

Kathy Brandon, someone he’d met his freshman year of college and quickly bonded with, had sent him links to people talking about both him and Damian followed by a demand for an explanation. Talking about it had calmed his nerves a bit, but he was still jumpy.

He’d gone out an hour after to pick up something, and had returned slightly more relaxed. He was attempting to edit the article he’d been assigned, procrastinating on his Chem homework, when finally, finally finally, a notification lit up his phone.

Jon_Kent

Hey, D

Missed you.

ROBIN_Offical

Hello, Jon.

You already know I share your sentiment.

How have you been? It’s been…awhile.

Jeez, looks like sometime in these past few years Damian had swallowed a dictionary. Or was he upset? A grudge was understandable, but the way he’d sounded on the video…

Jon knew both of them wanted to reconcile, even if this new way of communication was slightly off-putting.

Jon_Kent

I’ve been alright.

lots of ups and downs from the few years

what about you? How’s ur family?

ROBIN_Official

They are doing well, as am I.

Duke and I have been staying outside of Gotham U

stephanie often stays with us

Are you still in Metropolis?

Jon winced at the way the conversation was read out. It was stilted and awkward, even over text. There was nothing relatively interesting about this, unlike when they were younger, never an awkward moment left between them, never running out of things to talk about.

Jon_Kent

yup, still here

Gotham U, huh? Thats not too far from here

ROBIN_Official

no, not very

I’m glad I was able to talk to you again.

Damian’s heart was pounding as he hit send. The message could be received in a few ways, and he hoped he wasn’t being too forward too early into the stiff conversation.

Jon_Kent

me too damian

I wasnt lying, i have missed you

i feel like this is a conversation better held in person then over phone

ROBIN_Official is typing…

Jon chewed on his bottom lip, having moved from the table to the kitchen counter. He wanted to see him in person, see the change and the things time had eroded from the image in his memory. Surely, in person the conversation would flow more, bring an atmosphere much closer to the way they used to be.

ROBIN_Official

Would you like to meet sometime this week?

I will have to check my schedule but i believe i’m free this friday

Damian was lying. He knew for a fact he was free on Friday, hell, he worked from home most days and could get away with driving to Metropolis tomorrow if he wanted, but rushing headfirst into a situation that required time most of all was something he didn't want to do.

Jon_Kent

that sounds good for me!

theres a nice little cafe around my apartment

we can meet up there if you want?

ROBIN_Official

sounds good. Send me the address and i’ll see you then

It sounded much more like he was organizing an appointment, but that was fine. God, he said yes. Jon let out a breathy laugh, hand over his mouth and he read the words again and again.

Little footsteps pattered into the kitchen, and Jon set down his phone, looking down at a little girl with tanned skin, raven curls, and freckles.

“Daddy, hungry.”

He smiled softly, lifting her up and setting her on his hip. “How does mac ‘n cheese sound, princess?”

Damian sat up, the anxiety resurfacing with a topping of nerves churning in his stomach. He took a screenshot, sending it to his friends, before announcing to Alfred the cat,

“Well, this Friday, I'm going to see my estranged best friend, who I pined for uselessly for somewhere around four years, and who I most certainly no longer have feelings for. We’re going to talk it out like the adults we are, and everything will be fine. How has your day been?”

The cat’s judgemental stare and incredulous meow was the only response he got.

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