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bladekindeyewear · 4 years

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HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2020-09-15

This caught me laaaate at night gosh I’m tired but I’m gonna get it outta the way so it won’t stick in my craw! Already saw the first page, so it’s time for:

> CHAPTER 13. The Funeral

Church with chess symbols at the peaks and a Prospit/Derse or Hope/Rage split color theme on the stained glass windows.

JANE: Dearly beloved...

> (==>)

Trolls, humans, and papparazzi. Oh, hm, this church is RATHER carapacian isn’t it? Between the chess and the continuing Prospit-Derse themes, like how this corresponds to how they align in the incipisphere top-left to bottom-right if I recall:

(Minus the outlying orbs to the left and right for symmetry.)

That twisted pattern is interesting, and not quite a spirograph. Is that gonna be important later? If we’re going to get some sort of class chart later in the comic, it’d be easy for them to hint at the chart’s graphical structure subtly by dropping it places like here.

JANE: Ladies... JANE: Gentlemen... JANE: News outlets... JANE: And other valued members of the Human Nation State.

Technically true, but still odd to hear-- ...oh right, I forgot this was asshole dictator-wannabe Jane, too.

I read an interesting twitter thread recently about the intense psychological distinction between wanting to BE the best, and wanting to be TREATED like you’re the best. Epilogues/HS^2 Jane is kind of written as a case study on the pitfalls of leaning on the latter instead of the former.

> (==>)

They brought Yiffy WITH them-!? --Oh right. The hostage exchange was supposed to happen here wasn’t it.

Yiffy definitely looks like a Harley-Lalonde daughter in this shot.

JANE: Gamzee Makara, High Court Jester, exalted saint of the purple veil, has left us to traverse that grand, gay carnival in the sky, where, I am told by various members of the clownly cloth, he will spend the rest of history, honking in grand tribute to the Mirthful Messiah.

SINGULAR???

Weird. Is it because Alt!Callie “won” here?

Or is Jane just forgetting because she’s culturally used to monotheism (ironically) and is insensitive.

JANE: And my first memory of our Purple Prince, was his robust codpiece--

Wow.

> (==>)

JANE: --As he offered me his friendly support, along with the sacred blood of his brethren, the holy sacrament--

He STILL killed trolls??! (EDIT: No, a friend points out that she's talking about when she met him first in Act 6 and he tried selling bottles of troll blood to her. EDIT2: -which may be another inconsistency, since Vriska supposedly overwrote that post-retcon.)

> (==>)

It takes Jake a few seconds of puzzled eye contact before he catches exactly what it is Yiffany is tossing down. In his defense, he is distracted by his wife’s speech, which is doing the emotional equivalent of wringing him out like a wet towel, before using that towel to slap the sweaty buttocks of a large, odorous man. Even if he knows everything she’s saying is a load of horsefeathers, it does nothing for his composure to hear her heap praise on that smelly, homewrecking clown.

Bad things about Gamzee deserve to be said here, yes.

Jake wonders what she’ll say about him, at his own funeral.

Now those are some uncomfortable thoughts.

He narrows his eyes in Yiffany’s direction. She’s a lovely girl, really. He wishes he could have gotten to know her under better circumstances. He’d known she existed, of course--Jane had complained about her often enough--but they’d never had much chance to get acquainted. He rather believes her and Tavvy would have been fast friends.

Then again, perhaps it’s better that she never had much of a chance to get to know his family.

He lets go of the leash.

Yep, there’s a plan to set in motion that he’s probably already discussed with her privately. Gotta unite this four-kid team after all.

> (==>)

Wait, are you ATTACKING?!? --Of course you’re attacking. You would even if the plan was something different, wouldn’t you.

JANE: And I know that at times like these it is easy to want to give in. JANE: To throw in the towel, and turn our faces away from the light of democracy and moral fortitude that we, the citizens of the human kingdom, are blessed with from birth. JANE: God knows I’ve had my own faith tested in the last few weeks.

Jesus Christ, what has she turned the place into, a fucking theocracy?

She sounds like the leader of some screwed-up, fundamentalist country! Like the United States!

*rimshot*

JANE: As many of you know, I did not grow up with the same privileges that all of you enjoy.

Jesus.

JANE: I was born on proto-Earth, that half-finished dystopia mangled by the ravages of foolish leadership and endless war.

Jesus, she really IS a self-evident takedown of hypocritical entitled political figures. With the bonuses having Jasprose explicitly ADDRESS said entitlement to make things even clearer cut.

JANE: And as for Gamzee, well, his upbringing was even worse. JANE: He was born to a violent and uncaring home, a lonely child with few natural gifts.

...Some natural gifts and status.

> (==>)

She’s just, shaking with fury here isn’t she? And about to perform an impressive corpse-lob.

JANE: It would be simple to let this disgusting, vile, SHAMEFUL act of spiteful revenge turn us away from the blinding light of the sword of justice that hangs over us all--

This sentence seems suspicious so I’m quoting it to refer to later if I need to, but is probably just platitudes.

> (==>)

JANE: Poised

> (==>)

JANE: Trembling

Okay maybe the sword’s a dick, but what exactly is Yiffany doing?? I’m finding it difficult as usual to tell between some of these image transitions.

> (==>)

JANE: Ready to burst forth--

Bad PR to shock-collar a kid mid press junket. (Very dicks description.)

> (==>)

Click. (Did they swap the shock function with Jane’s necklace somehow, that’d be fun.)

JANE: I want to give up, at times. I understand your pain.

While shocking a kid? GREAT PR.

> (==>)

JANE: I sympathize with your pain.

Wow, those horrified audience members. She REALLY can’t even see herself anymore can she? Not even hear herself. And they’re making sure this is pointed out to EVERYONE watching. They described this as in large part a PR campaign to defeat her, didn’t they?

> (==>)

Great furious businesswoman-villain look, that art.

JANE: But when that pain! Becomes too hard! To endure! JANE: Remember poor, lifeless Gamzee! Who suffered pain far worse than any of us could ever fathom! JANE: THE PAIN OF BETRAYAL!

Click click click. This is a fun sequence.

> (==>)

DIRK: Dude, didn’t you lower the voltage on that shock collar? DIRK: Little Red isn’t looking so hot. JAKE: Yes of course i did but the damn doohickys got the kick of a donkey! JAKE: I couldnt remove it completely shed know i was the one who did it! DIRK: Well, if that supervillain cuntwaffle doesn’t stop, she’s going to kill her. Not really the best at hostage management, is she.

Decent plan. (And of course Dirk would pull out the word cunt.) When’s the cavalry coming?

> (==>)

JANE: But we cannot allow his memory to be in vain! JANE: For Gamzee Makara taught us that even the most loathsome degenerate can take their place in society. JANE: All they need is the right redemption arc - !

Trying to hammer home some of the Epilogue’s trolly-critical themes a little less bleakly, I take it.

I kind of like the violent vibration in ALL of these gifs in a row. It makes the scene seem small, slow, teeth-clenching but still full of steady action, emphasizing the importance of the relatively small events from panel to panel while giving them the sense with the animation of them being [i]drawn out[/i] and tortuous instead of just “occurring”. It feels that way to me, anyway.

> (==>)

If he got up alive here, that’d be hilarious. (Presumably he’s been treated and done-up like a normal funeral body, not “dormant” and undecaying like a dead god-tier.)

> (==>)

CORPSE PUNT w/ CLEATS

> (==>)

That face is just. I love that face.

> (==>)

SHE MAD

JANE: Young lady, I am just about at the end of my rope with you. JANE: Throw all the dog bowls you want at the walls of my warship. JANE: But don’t you dare act up in front of a JANE: Live JANE: Fucking JANE: Newsfeed! YIFFY: Grrrrrr

What did you expect to happen? Do you expect to shout her down from this, Jane?

JANE: After everything I’ve done for you--paying for your education, helping your parents cover up your existence from the world! JANE: Just imagine what Rose and Jade would say if they could see you now, even dissidents can have a little decorum! JANE: Get down from there at once! YIFFY: Grrrrrr

But this is GAMZEE. --I guess it’s seriously disrespectful to his followers, though. Still. If you wanted civility from her, a shock collar, leash, and food bowl wasn’t the way to go about it.

JANE: Don’t you threaten me, young lady. Not today! YIFFY: GRRRRRRRRR

What is your PLAN even, Jane? You’ve completely disregarded her.

JANE: There’s nowhere for you to go. My agents are swarming this church. Be reasonable, Yiffany. JANE: Ugh. JANE: Disgusting name. JANE: But that’s hardly your fault. You were always just a footnote. Your parents’ little prank. JANE: Honestly, that’s why I helped them all those years ago! I do love a good jape. JANE: But let’s be serious. JANE: You don’t matter. If you did, they would have come for you already.

Can all the press hear her being such an asshole?

Okay, stereotypically, their arrival should be the next couple panels:

> (==>)

Jake, do something useful like hoping harder.

> (==>)

And she knocks the remote away. Excellent.

And she does. Seemingly at the end of her tolerance for insults toward her name, social status, and heritage, Yiffy performs an impressive backflip off the podium and down onto the church floor. One that, if it hadn’t been happening amidst a sea of other newsworthy events, would surely have ended up on someone’s instagram story within thirty seconds. She gives Gamzee’s corpse one last parting kick: a hard, proper kick that proves those cleats aren’t just for fashion. Although they are certainly also for fashion.

Good, good.

He vanishes into the seething crowd, and we are confident that we will never have to deal with this asshole ever again.

God damnit.

> (==>)

Jake watches this from a safe distance, poised on the edge of intervening to pull Yiffy out of there. But in the end he doesn’t have to. Instead he watches in admiration as she tears the place to utter shreds. An echoing sympathy swells inside of him as she rends apart the funeral flowers and punts Gamzee into the shrieking congregation. Here is a girl who felt the cold, indecent hand of fate wrapping around her, and instead of submitting to it and slowly sublimating down into morasse of boiled doormat, she slapped it away from her with a lively oh, no thank you.

All at once, Jake feels immense affection for his granddaughter. He hopes the two of them can make up for lost time.

Lessons belatedly learned, but learned nonetheless.

> (==>)

JANE: Enough of this. JANE: Seize her!

Kind of Red Queen of you. (Are those stained glass windows in back of the frame about to burst?)

> (==>)

Yep.

The stained glass window shatters inward, obliterated to stardust. The war is knocking.

Even attacking a disgusting faith’s church is pretty bad form, though.

Tired and busy, seeya next upd8. <3

#Homestuck #hs2 #Homestuck Liveblog #upd8 #Homestuck^2 #spoiler #spoilers

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imhereforbvcky · 5 years

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Vivid - Part 3

Masterlist - Series Masterpage

Summary: Have you ever met someone who completely embodies a color? Not an aura, not synesthesia. Just… They walk into the room and when you spot them, you think to yourself, “Wow. That is a walking hurricane.” When Clint Barton serendipitously meets a free-spirited stranger, he sees red. Chapter: You and Clint have become that indefinable thing between friends and... well something more. Or less, since you’re both too anxious to push through that barrier. Can a relationship grow anyway?

Warnings: I guarantee there’s swearing. There usually is. That’s about it, just a load of fluff and cuteness with a side of nerves.

Word Count: 2637

A/N: I’m laaaate with this, I’m sorry! I had some unexpected visitors who wanted to take a 7hr (each way) camping road-trip over the weekend. So I didn’t have time to queue this up. Anyway, here we go! Two goofs, two dorks, two relationship idiots, dancing around each other! Let’s go!

The last few millimeters of coffee swirled in your mug, mixing thick foam and heavy chocolate with the final precious bits of caffeine. Your friend scowled at you from across the petite round café table.

“So who is he?”

“Hmm?” You set your phone down beside your now empty cup, loopy smile hooking one side of your face into a lazy grin.

Nina circled an accusatory finger around your face. “That!” Then she pointed to the phone. “Who is he?”

“Don’t judge me, just because you’re Fort Knox.”

“I stash my precious golden heart behind a heavily fortified vault for a reason. People are greedy and rough, especially with someone as careless as you. I’m just looking out for my friend,” she finally sighed watching you check your phone again. “You keep diving head first without looking how deep the water is, you’re going to break your neck one day.”

“Maybe, but at least I’ll know what the water feels like.”

“I don’t… even know what that means,” she frowned, picking at her crème brûlée. “We’re mixing metaphors.”

“It means I’d rather get a little bruised looking for love than to hide from it forever and feel nothing.”

Nina’s frown dipped into a disgruntled scowl. “I feel things.”

“Oh you definitely do,” you teased, dipping a spoon into her dessert. “You feel very nervous when you’re happy…”

She sliced at your spoon with her own, defending her treat.

“You feel uncomfortable when you think people you care about are too happy.”

“I just don’t want to see you hurt. Again.” She argued.

“But then you wouldn’t get to say, ‘I told you so.’”

She rolled her eyes, but grinned. Nina did love to be right. “So? Who is he? Need to make sure he’s worth the leap.”

“We’re not even—he’s just a friend right now.” You explained. Then smiled excitedly, bouncing in your seat. “But I kinda like him.”

“Yeah I figured. That dopey grin kinda gave it away.” She tapped your phone. “Why do you only see him in the middle of the night? Seems a lot like the last one if you ask m—“

“They’re nothing alike,” you snapped.

Your friend cocked an eyebrow: half challenge, half interest.

“It’s not like that,” you shrugged. “We have coffee at the 24-hour diner, or eat pizza on a stoop,” you explained, a little grin sneaking in. “We just talk. Or we don’t. He’s good. And it just… comes easy, ya know? He makes me laugh, when I’m 2am heavy.”

Nina sighed and pushed her empty dessert dish away from her. “Please just… look before you leap this time.”

“Where’ve you been?”

Clint jumped at least a foot. The canister of coffee grounds clattered to the floor and rolled until Natasha lifted her toe to stop it under foot.

“Why so jumpy?” she probed further.

“’Cause there’s a spy in my apartment,” he grumbled, tossing his keys on the counter.

“Well?”

“Just went for coffee.”

She opened the cupboard to put the new canister away beside the other 6 unopened tins. “You know, for a SHIELD agent, you’re a terrible liar.”

“Why are you checking up on me, Nat?”

“You missed movie night.”

“Oh shit. I’m sorry, I forgot.”

“And last week you forgot about Burger Monday.”

“I know, I’ve been dropping the ball lately…”

“My friend Clint would never forget about In-n-Out.”

He chuckled when he realized she wasn’t mad. Not completely. More concerned, and interested, and upset he was hiding something from her. Which was fair, he didn’t keep secrets from Nat. Not ever.

“So tell me.” Her voice was gentle, asking not demanding. “Who has you so distracted?”

Clint trudged to the worn out couch and flopped into it, before toeing off his ever-untied boots. “Just a friend. I got carried away.”

“No,” she argued, curling up on the other end of the couch. “You blew off your friends. This is something else. You like this person.”

“I should’ve been at movie night.” He shook his head and let it drop back onto the cushions. “You’re my family, I should be there. And besides, you know how I am about relationships. It was a mistake.”

“You must really like this mystery person,” Natasha observed, tilting her head to study her closest friend.

“I do and now I’ve said it out loud it’s real and I wish I didn’t, ‘cause now I’m definitely gonna screw it up,” he mumbled, tossing his forearm over his eyes. If he closed his eyes a minute longer, he could imagine a world where he got to have nice things. Good things and good people worth having. People like you would stay and he wouldn’t have trust issues. So he kept his eyes shut tight and his arm stubbornly heavy over them. “I wasn’t thinking. It just… felt really good to be around her, you know? For a second I forgot.”

“Clint, I think it’s a good thing for us to forget. Forget the past, forget the present – what we do. We can’t carry it forever. It’s a good thing: figuring out how to move on. And if you can find someone to do that with you… Well I’d say you’re one lucky guy.”

He flopped over, letting his head fall beside her and his feet curl up behind his knees and sighed. Reality again, dim in his cheap midnight apartment, messy in more ways than one. “I don’t know how to take care of a relationship like that. Growing up like I did, and now doing what we do… I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop, you know? Always fighting something. I’m just gonna ruin it.”

“Clint,” She pressed long cool hands against the sides of his face, and craned her neck to look down at him. All he could see were clear green eyes that bore straight into the core of him, knowing, understanding, and simplifying. “Love isn’t war.”

“I don’t even know her that well. We’re not…” his eyes darted anywhere but what he was sure were all-seeing eyes. “It’s not love.”

“But that’s the end game right,” she cut him off. “You like her, and it might go that way. You need to remember that it’s not war, and it’s not torture. That might be what we’re used to, but this isn’t supposed to tear you apart. It’s not tears and bruises and blood. It’s work, but the kind that makes you softer. That person should make you lighter, bring you peace.”

“She’s like a damn helium balloon.” The hint of a smile came unbidden. There was enough levity in just the thought of you to tug it over his lips, crinkle at his eyes.

“Then stop looking for grenades.” She let her hands drift away from his face, and the seriousness faded with the warmth. “Enjoy… whatever it is while you have it.”

Clint sighed. Natasha was right, and he often needed her to kick him in the ass with this kind of thing. It was why they were such great friends. She got it. But that didn’t make it easier to actually do.

“And give me a name so I can vet her.”

“Nat!”

She shrugged. “Just looking out for my friend.”

“You busy?” Your voice was bright coming through the phone as the elevators closed behind you.

“Uh…”

You chewed the edge of your nail to near oblivion. Taking Nina’s advice, launched you way out of your comfort zone, and that hesitant, non-committal answer did nothing to assuage your anxiety.

Clint, with the phone still to his ear glanced over his shoulder down the range. It was his turn to lead training, but when your name turned up on his phone, he’d have taken any excuse to bail. Could he feign a sprained ankle? He was clumsy enough…

Natasha glanced at him, with a question in her creased brow as she retrieved her paper target and began circling her shots. Tony stood frowning down range. He’d been complaining that he should be exempt from target practice since his ‘super-power’ came with heat-seeking missiles. Really, he just hated losing.

Clint’s entire body hunkered low, phone pressed to his chest when he heard the high-pitched whine of a repulsor-ray.

“Bull’s-eye. I win.” Tony grumbled before storming off. The target had been blown to hell. The frame holding the target was nothing more than smoke. The hillside behind the row of targets had a fresh gouge of scorched grass and upturned dirt.

Clint and Natasha shared a glance and she rolled her eyes.

“Clint? Hello?” his phone chirped in his hand. “You there?”

“Uhm,” he tried again. “No. No, I’m not busy. Not anymore. What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted with a nervous laugh. Clint was already walking quickly back toward the compound with a haphazard wave at Natasha. “I finished up early at the office and I just missed you. Is that weird? It is a little,” you rambled. “Anyway, I know it’s still daylight, and that’s not really um… our thing. Shit, this was dumb. This is like that embarrassing rambling voicemail that you delete and try again 4 times except you answered and now you have to hear it and I have to live with the memory. This was so dumb! I should let you go.”

“No!” Clint found himself cringing at the force with which he’d spoken. But he absolutely did not want you to let him go. “No, it’s fine. It’s nice to not be the only idiot around.”

There was a silence and he slapped his palm to his forehead. He just called you an idiot. His head dropped back and his face scrunched while he fought back a grown, wondering if anyone could be a bigger idiot than him in that moment.

Mercifully a chuckle finally broke through from on the other end of the line. “We’ve definitely cornered the market.”

“Mhmm.” He dragged a hand down his face, still unable to release his cringe enough to form real words.

“So do you wanna…?”

“Yeah,” he managed. “Yeah, give me an hour. What’d you have in mind?”

“I could use a cuddle.”

An hour and fifteen minutes later, Clint stood in the tiny tiled room, waiting. You were already sitting on the floor, feet curled up under you, jittering in anticipation. One minute, you were clapping excitedly, the next shoving his shoulder, the next dancing on the spot.

Something between a chuckle and a scoff passed his lips. This was a horrible idea for so many reasons.

It was also brilliant.

And anything that made you this happy, he decided, was well worth his time.

“How often do you do this?” he asked.

You beamed up at him. “Often enough that the front desk gave me a volunteer form this time!”

“This is crazy. You’re crazy.” His words didn’t have any sting. No bite. It was a fond sort of acknowledgement.

“Okay, are you ready to meet Arrow?” the shelter employee asked, peering around the corner.

“Um, yes!” You clapped with glee as she opened the little gate and ushered the dog into the room.

He immediately bounded over, drawn to your excited energy.

“Oh! I’m in love already!” you exclaimed as he wiggled and romped around on the floor beside you.

“I’ll give you a little time,” the employee smiled, ducking out.

“This is just cruel,” Clint argued, crouching down to ruffle the dog’s ears. It abandoned you almost immediately, leaning into Clint’s hand.

“No it isn’t! They sit in cages all day, they need love as much as I do.” Your voice was a goofy croon as you pet the overly friendly yellow lab.

“I meant cruel to me!”

You laughed and Clint eased down onto the floor beside you. He was entirely preoccupied with Arrow, scrubbing his ears, gently shoving the dog’s chest back, grabbing at a lazily thrown paw. They wrestled in the tight space like they’d been doing it for years.

You, on the other hand, could only take in the completely unburdened smile that lit up Clint’s face. It made you glad for the warmth of his arm squeezed against yours in the narrow space. The familiar heat of his skin was like an extension of his joy.

Clint absorbed you entirely in his calm steady happiness, a cool sort of comfortable that spread through your veins, rather than the frenzied red rush you had spent so long chasing, had spent so many tears watching slip through your fingers. This was different, and new, and something you hadn’t known you’d wanted. It was a chill up your spine and soft glint in his eye, a light flutter in your stomach.

You startled when the dog leapt to the side and knocked him wholly against you from knee to shoulder. Clint didn’t flinch, didn’t withdraw, would never have thought to. He was warm and comfortable, and you were something good and bright he liked being close to. You amplified the parts of each other that sometimes got lost in the chaos. Here in this tiny tiled room with the bounding energy of a shelter dog between you, that balance swelled. The room seemed full of it and the stress of the day crowded out with ease.

“Sorry,” he turned to you with a smirk as the dog plowed into his gut with a braided rope toy. “I’m hogging the puppy. You needed cuddles.”

“S’okay,” you shrugged, linking your arm around his elbow and curling your hand up to the lean stretch of bicep pressed against your own shoulder. “You’re cuddly. And he likes you.”

Clint’s playful smile softened into something else, something full and gentle as he looked down at you. You didn’t see it though, as you reached out to pat the dog and let your cheek fall to Clint’s shoulder.

This little adventure was indulgent, and silly, but that was exactly what Clint liked about being with you. Those things felt right, and it made him feel good. So he indulged. He let his lips fall to the top of your head, nose tickled by your hair and the smell of soap. For a moment, he let himself stay like that. Then he kissed the top of your head. Quietly, gently, deliciously thoughtless.

Even more satisfying: you didn’t react at all. Just stayed curled up like that against his side and let him.

Clint walked out with a new dog that day. One he promptly renamed when his favorite pizza vendor – a gas station that sells pizza by the slice but Clint buys by the pie – spotted you outside with him on a long red lead.

“Lucky day for you, eh?” he’d asked with a toothy grin and a big box of pepperoni pizza.

Clint glanced over his shoulder and grinned, lop-sided and nearly lost. He was sure he looked like a damn fool, he just didn’t care. “It’s been a pretty good one.”

“Who am I to stand between Lady Luck and her prize,” he said, shooing away Clint’s money. “It’s going stale anyway, just take it.”

“Really? Thanks, Marco!”

When he found you on the tiniest spit of grass, you slipped a greedy hand into the box and withdrew a slice. He couldn’t help laughing at the grin on your lips as you stuffed half the piece into your mouth.

“’M starving!” you mumbled.

He shook his head and reached into the box himself. Except instead of eating the slice, he tossed it to Arrow. “He’s a lucky dog. This was free!”

“You should call him Lucky!”

He grinned and slung an arm over your shoulder, the three of you heading down the block back to his stoop to finish the box of pizza between you. Lucky seemed more fitting for a dog than Arrow anyway. He liked it.

“Lucky the pizza dog.”

Part 4 >>

#clint x reader #clint x reader fluff #clint barton x reader #clint barton x reader fluff #clint barton fanfic #avengers fanfic #clint barton

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prettywordsyouleft · 5 years

Note

Hi chelle! am I laaaate? Can i request for a needy jackson? Thank youuuu ilysm 💕

Not late! Thanks for your support.

Pairing: Jackson Wang x reader

Word count: 242

______________________

“But why do you have to go?” he asked, following you around as you moved from the bathroom to the bedroom. Shooting him a look, your boyfriend Jackson merely sighed. “I only got home yesterday.”

“And today I have to fly out for the weekend to meet with a client. I’m sorry Jackson. It’s not my fault your schedule changed and you were late back.”

He grumbled, his next statement spoken under his breath. Jackson watched as you put the remaining items into your small luggage case on the bed, and you finally turned to face him, shooting Jackson an expectant look. “Okay, what is it?”

“What if I book a flight right now and come with you?”

“Don’t you have commitments here?”

“Not until Sunday evening. I’ll just fly back early.”

“You’ll book flights for such a small amount of time?”

Jackson nodded, enveloping you in his arms. “Baby, if it means we get some time together to make up for all the time we’ve been apart lately, I’ll get on the first flight I can to meet you there.”

“Is that so?”

“Of course. I need more of you,” he answered with a hum and you kissed Jackson passionately before you inched away from his mouth, now smirking.

“You better pack a bag then. I booked you a seat just in case you could make it.”

Jackson grinned, pulling you back in for another kiss. “Now who’s needy for who?”

______________________

My ask box is open for this week’s Chelle Chats!

#chellechats #pwyl; saturday drabbles #got7 #got7 drabbles #jackson wang #jackson wang drabbles #jackson drabbles #kpop drabbles

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sapphires-and-gold-fics · 5 years

Text

Fictober 2019 Day 3: “Now? Now you listen to me?”

Fandom: Game of Thrones / A Song of Ice and Fire

Characters: Jaime Lannister / Brienne of Tarth

Read on AO3

xxxxxxxxxxx

They were getting close to the Brotherhood’s territory. They could encounter one of Stoneheart’s men at any moment. Brienne halted her horse and jumped down, leading the mare off the road and into the brush where she secured the reins around a thick branch. Jaime leapt down as well and began to follow her lead.

“No Ser Jaime don’t,” Brienne sniffed, “we’re bringing your horse - he’ll make for a quicker escape.”

Jaime looked at her curiously. “What’s going on? I thought Sansa Stark would be further yet.” He peered at her and could see that tears had begun to form in her startling eyes.

“Ser Jaime, I need you to trust me.”

“What is it, wench?” he pried, stepping closer to her, “Why did you come to me with this bandage on your face and rope burns on your neck? What has happened?”

She shook her head. “You won’t believe me. I just need you to follow my lead. We may both still survive this. How has your fighting progressed? Your left arm?”

He flexed it. “If you’d wanted to spar my lady we needn’t have left Pennytree.” He could see that she was not keen to his jests. “What danger lies ahead? Have you laid a trap for me, wench?”

“It was the only way, Ser Jaime. She’s going to kill Podrick.” The tears were flowing now, and he resisted the urge to wipe them from her cheeks.

“Who is?”

“I told you,” she whispered, “You won’t believe me. You have to see her. And right now I need you to let me bind your arms.”

He looked at her askance.

“I’ll make sure you can loose yourself, but we need to be convincing to the Brotherhood. Believe me when I say this is the only way.” Her tears were drying as her resolve firmed.

“Wench…”

“You risked your life for me time and again, do you really think I would ever ask you to do so unless absolutely necessary? We don’t have a choice Jaime. We have to go to her. Give me your sword.”

Jaime studied her. She could have shown up back at Pennytree and told him that the Titan of Braavos was made of cheese, and he would have followed her. Her path was his, it had just taken him a while to realize it. And now she was asking him to go into an unknown situation with not just one good hand, but in fact none as she was bringing him in as a prisoner. He wanted to balk at the idea. But he couldn’t bear to watch her cry again. “Fine.” He unbuckled the belt holding Widow’s Wail and handed it to her and watched as she settled it on her right hip, the two halves of Ned Stark’s sword flanking her like the unassuming warrior she was. “Bind me, but not too hard.”

“No,” she sniffed, “I’ll make it so you can free yourself, whatever happens. Trust me, please.”

Jaime widened his shoulders to keep the rope loose as she drew his arms together, her hands soft against his stumped arm. “You said the Brotherhood - has Beric Dondarrion finally ended his unnatural life? If a woman was to defeat him, I can only imagine it would be you, but that doesn’t fit.”

“No,” she said from behind him, “he has been replaced by another.”“And how do you know your mystery woman won’t behead me the moment she sees me? How shall I defend myself then?"

“She won’t. She wants us to suffer. There will be time. Trust me.”

“Oh I do wish you’d mentioned the suffering before I agreed to be tied up and delivered for slaughter.” He felt her pause and take a deep breath before finishing her work behind him. She pressed the end of the length of rope into his hand and he squeezed hers as she did.

“There,” she said. “You only need to pull, and your arm will be free.”

“Good thing I can free myself, wench. Otherwise I couldn’t stop you taking liberties with me, could I?”

Brienne blushed hard.

“There it is. I was hoping I might get to see it one last time.”

“Ser Jaime —”

“Oh, lead on, wench - there’s suffering to be had!”

Two of Stoneheart’s men crossed them in the road not ten minutes later, and brought them before her. Harwin stood to her right, and Thoros haunted the corner of the cave.

“Lady Catelyn, I see the rumors of your death have been… somewhat exaggerated.”

Harwin raised his chin. “Lady Stoneheart has not given you leave to speak, Kingslayer.”

The milky white woman raised a taloned hand to her neck and pressed down, a heavy hiss emitting from her mouth. “You have no honorrrr Kingsssslayer.”

“That’s not true!” came a shout from behind them.

Brienne heard one of the men hit Pod to silence him, and she stepped forward. “It’s true, my lady. A Kingslayer has shit for honor.”

“Now? Now you listen to me.” Jaime was looking between Stoneheart and Brienne in disbelief. “This is--” he faltered when he saw her eyes begin to water again. “Wench…”

“It’s true,” said Brienne, turning to Stoneheart, “a Kingslayer has no honor. But Ser Jaime, the knight before you, is not that man.”

“Ser Jaime is the Kingslayer!” cried Harwin.

“No,” Brienne cried back, “it’s Ser Jaime. It’s just Jaime. He is honorable. He followed me thinking we were going to save your daughter, my lady.”

The woman let out another hiss, “Oathhhbreaaaakerrrr.”

Brienne stood up straighter. “My lady, you said that you would spare the others if I… I brought him here. That must be enough to let Pod and Hyle go. You get Jaime and you get me.”

“No!” Jaime urged, “certainly your freedom has been secured too. You’ve kept your promise where it regards me.” He turned to the former Lady Catelyn, “You have me. Let the rest go.”

Jaime couldn’t make out Stoneheart’s next words, but Harwin was quickly barking orders for the two Brotherhood guards behind them to escort Pod and Hyle back to the road. They were letting them go. But he and Brienne were still here.

“Wench…”

“Lady Catelyn,” started Brienne.

“Oathhhhhbreaaaakerrrr.”

“No, my lady,” Brienne all but begged, “Ser Jaime and I have broken no oathes. He would not have come here unless it were to try to fulfill the oath you now accuse us of abandoning. I… my lady, I beg mercy for him.”

“Toooo laaaate.”

Jaime stepped closer, “Well then, my lady - how am I to die? I see you already tried to hang the wench, but that didn’t seem to take. Perhaps your trees aren’t strong enough, but I’m a little lighter perhaps it’ll work for me.”

“The swoooorrrd.”

“A beheading? Aye that’s unfortunate. With my swordhand gone, I’m afraid all I had left was my looks. Very well, whose duty will it be to rid house Lannister of its lord, hmm?”

Stoneheart hissed, and Thoros spoke, moving from the shadows to the cave entrance. “Your whore will take your head,” he said, gesturing to Brienne. “If she does, she will live.”

Brienne looked at the ground, and Jaime looked at her. She must have known. He willed her to look at him and when she did, he gave her a resolute nod, his cocky smile never leaving his face. “Very well. Lady Brienne, I seem to be on your dance card again.”

She looked at him sadly, her hand twitching around the pommel of the sword he had given her.

Jaime turned back to the ruin of Catelyn Stark. “Lady Stoneheart...is it? Much as I’d love to make a pretty farewell, I think I’d like to whisper my last words to my queen of love and beauty, as it were. Might I be granted that?

“Say your words and get on with it, Kingslayer.” Harwin spat at Jaime’s feet. “Then your whore will take your head.”

Jaime turned to Brienne and stepped close to her, close enough that he could have caught the tears running from her eyes with his cheeks. “Wench” he leaned forward and she tilted her head down automatically so that their temples rested together, their lips at each other’s ear. Jaime felt the last resistance give way as his lips brushed the shell of her ear, “I’ve told you before. I trust you. Now shield my back, Brienne.”

In a flash, Jaime’s hand was free of the rope and he had pulled his sword from Brienne’s belt and spun away from her. They backed against one another - he taking on Harwin who rushed him impulsively and lost his ear for it before losing the rest; Brienne took on Thoros, a skilled fighter in his prime, but now so reliant on magicks that he could not compete with Brienne’s strength, and she cut him down at the knee before driving her sword into his shoulder. He was dead before his face crashed into the dirt. Lady Stoneheart was roaring, though it sounded more like steam escaping a hot stone fissure. They heard running footfalls approaching - the guards.

“Jaime —”

“Brienne, go! I’ll handle her.”

Without checking to make sure she’d heard him, Jaime pushed forward and moved toward Stoneheart.

“My son named this sword for you, you know. But I hope to give it a new name soon.”

“Kingsssssslayer. Oathhhhhbreaaaakerrrr. Craaaavennnnn. Your whooooore should have killlllllled you. She haaaaaas no honoooooor.”

Jaime hefted his sword as best he could.

“Her name is Brienne. And she is the truest knight in the seven kingdoms. She has enough honor for both of us.”

“Arrrrre you so craaaaaven that you would draaaag her down with youuuuu?”

“I’m not dragging her anywhere,” Jaime said, “She’s lifting me up. She’s my redemption. I suppose I should thank you for her. I do hope your soul rests easy when she and I have found your daughters. I hope you find peace.”

“Craaaaaavennnnnn!”

She would have said more, except that Jaime’s sword finished what the Freys had started.

“Jaime.”

He spun to face Brienne. She was closer than he’d thought she’d be.

“It’s done, wench. The others?” He could see the blood spattered across her arms.

She sheathed her sword, then removed his sword belt from her waist and handed it to him.

“There may be more in the woods, I’m not sure. I have to find Pod. And I’ll have to go back for my horse.”

“We’ll find him. And then we’ll go east.”

“Jaime,” she shook her head, “you needn’t come. I can keep searching. I’m sorry for putting you in danger, I’m sorry I lied to you. Lady Catelyn was wrong, I--”

“She was wrong about a lot. But I meant what I said. I mean to fulfill our oath.”

“But your men... and your—“

“There’s nothing for me there. From now on, I am with you, if you’ll have me. We can find her, I know we can.”

She nodded slightly, her blush growing, then ducked her head and left the tent. And he followed.

#braime #jaime x brienne #brienne x jaime #asoiaf continuation #ao3commentoftheday #ao3 link #ficlet #mine #fictober #fictober 2019 #game of thrones au #these idiots write themselves.

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hattywatch · 5 years

Text

A. Henrique - You’re the Reason Why

Author’s Note: This is for my sweet @xolilyxo who is dearly in love with Adam Henrique and has recently recruited me <3 I love her and I love him, even if I never really follow west coast hockey because it’s on way too late for my east coast ass.

“I thought you said it was ‘endearing,’ what happened?” You huffed and rearranged the pillows on your bed, pressing them against the wall, as if that could block out the caterwauling coming from the next apartment.

Ohhhhhh, I wanna dance with some-bah-dayyy. Wanna feel the heat with somebody!!!

“Yeah, well... endearing is reserved for private concerts that don’t occur while I’m SUPPOSED TO BE ASLEEP!” You shout the last part towards the wall behind you, hoping your voice will carry through it, like his is currently doing.

Your friend laughs, and you groan, “Thanks a lot for commiserating. I really appreciate it,” you’re going for biting sarcasm, but the yawn that slips into your sentence betrays you and takes all the malice out of it.

“Sorry. You’re being a baby. Just go knock on the door and ask him to pipe down. He probably doesn’t realize he’s being so loud,” you suppose that’s one solution, “But, it’s really late and I should be asleep already. See you tomorrow, don’t be laaaate!” she sing-songs, and you mock her with a face, not that she can see it through the phone, but you say good night anyway and plug your phone into your charger.

You flop down onto your side and can still hear the music, and man, clear as a bell coming from the bathroom of J6. Even putting another pillow over your head isn’t really helping. Eventually you give up, leaving your room and dragging your blankets along the floor to the couch. Between the two rooms and one door between you two, the singing is drowned out and you can finally fall into a deeper sleep than you’d be able to for the past week.

_____

The sun is bright and the weather is beautiful, which is a small consolation as you’re sat outside sipping your coffee deeply and chatting with your friend at brunch, which you were ON TIME TO, thank you very much.

“Did you at least get to see gym hottie this morning?” She signals the waiter walking around with the coffee carafe over to fill you guys up and you shake your head no. “I haven’t seen him down in the gym for a while, actually. Maybe he moved,” the thought is sad, since ogling him on the treadmill is the only thing that gives you the drive to get on the stupid stair climber 3 days a week.

After you finish up eating and drinking far too much coffee to be healthy, she has to go home to her family, but you have the day free and it really seems like you’ve earned a manicure with the week you’ve had.

_____

By the time you put the key in your door, careful not to smudge your nails, and kick off your shoes, you can hear it.

If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends.

And honestly, how much can one man shower? But your friend was right, now that it’s the middle of the day you don’t find it so annoying. It’s kind of cute, so you find yourself humming along until you remember it’s twenty-nineteen, “Alexa? Play Wannabe, by the Spice Girls,” and bless her, she does.

Dancing around your kitchen with your broom, you work your way through some basic chores. Sweeping, unloading, and then reloading the dishwasher. It’s really putting you into that Sunday cleaning mode, and before you know it, your whole place is clean and you’ve worked up a bit of a sweat. So, you hop into the shower and since you’re in the mood, you leave spotify open on the sink and warble through your own little musical. Since you have all day, you really get into it. A full exfoliate/hair mask/shave shower.

Thirty minutes in, when you hear an aggressive pounding coming from your door, you’re surprised and a little agitated, because everyone is entitled to a long uninterrupted shower, but you turn off the water and dry off the best you can before slinging a robe around you and hurrying to the door, a trail of wet footprints leading back to your bathroom.

When you open the door a crack, you’re shocked and your hand flies up to the chest of your robe to make sure it’s secure. Gym hottie is stood outside your door, looking sheepish but purposeful.

“Uh, can I... can I help you?” He looks about as uncomfortable as you feel and he opens his mouth to speak, but just a little huff comes out, so he tries again.

“I’m eh, I’m really sorry to bother you, but I have a game tonight and I’m trying to nap, and I guess my bedroom wall is shared by your bathroom, so I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind turing your music down.” Your eyebrows crinkle up and you forget that the behemoth in front of you is as attractive as he is with all of indignation that clouds up in your head.

Before you can help yourself, the door is swung open and you can’t even be bothered to care about the fact that you probably look like a drowned rat, “YOU can’t sleep? You can’t sleep!! You have got to be kidding me, buddy.”

He looks a little confused, or maybe a little scared that he knocked on the door of a crazy person, so you clue him in, “I don’t have to ‘guess’ that your bathroom shares a wall with my bedroom, because I haven’t been able to get a full night’s sleep in over a week with you putting on broadway productions in there every night!” you jerk your thumb in the direction of his apartment and he looks downright bashful after your outburst. Stood there in front of your door, shoulders limp and eyes cast down.

The fight leaves you before you can even second guess how much you probably just embarrassed yourself. “Yeah, I’ll turn my music off… sorry for keeping you awake.” He looks up and smiles, a little thing that knocks your heartbeat up a tick.

“I’m sorry too, I didn’t realized the walls here were so thin. You could have just come over and told me, though,” he shrugs his hands into his pockets and his smile grows a little bit, “I don’t bite, ya know.”

You sigh, and shift your stance to rest on one foot, the hip popped out to the side, “Yeah, well. It’s fine. It’s cute when it’s not 2 am.” It isn’t until you’ve said it that you realize exactly what you said, but it seems he has and he latched onto it.

“How about this?” He pulls his phone from his pocket and hands it to you after pressing his thumb into the button to unlock it. “Put your number into here, and I’ll give you mine too. If you think it’s too late for my singing to be cute, send me a text and I’ll stop. Nodding, you take his phone and type your number in. You set your name as with “(singer from J8)” next to it.

“We’re all good now right? I really have to get this pre-game nap in or it will throw everything off.” He raises an eyebrow at you and you relax your eyebrows where they’ve laid furrowed on your forehead for the brunt of this interaction.

“Yeah, we’re good J6.” He holds out his hand, and you’re reluctant to pull yours away from the neck of your robe but you do after tightening the belt around your waist. “Adam is fine. Thank you J8.”

“Y/n,” when you finally let go of his hand, he turns and walks away heading back into his apartment as you stare on before you close the door and head back into your bathroom, ready to hop back into the shower. You shut the door and hang your robe up on the back of it before turning the stream of water back on.

Before you can get into the shower, you hear your phone vibrate against the marble countertop and sigh, reaching over for it.

“I think your singing is cute too, btw.” You don’t get a chance to respond before the little dots pop up and another message pops up onto your screen. “Enjoy your shower ;) ”

Well, fuck.

#hockey imagines #nhl imagine #nhl rambles #hockey blurb #nhl blurb #anaheim ducks imagine #adam henrique imagine #writing #this is the closest i get to writing a blurb #its 3 pages #for my dearest lily #the sweetest lilyyy love

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taztaas · 6 years

Text

I’m laaaate for @twinsweek but I still wanna do it so here’s yesterday’s bit.

Day one: Your favorite twin/both if you can’t decide

The IPRE is Lulu’s idea.

Most ideas are.

“Cooking is kinda fun, isn’t it Taako? Auntie could teach us!”

“We can’t stay here anymore, Taako.”

“How about we tag along one of these caravans, Taako?”

“Taako, let’s learn magic!”

“Taako, I want to join the Institute.”

And Taako follows suit, because why not? It’s not like Lup’s ideas are bad, and what would he be without her?

He doesn’t come up with ideas. He’s content with following. It’s easier, and Lup is a good leader.

They join the expedition. They live and die and fight for a century.

On cycle 99 Lup disappears, and they forget, they all forget.

Taako doesn’t remember being led, but he remembers following along.

“I am but a simple idiot wizard,” He tells the director, and it feels true, but at the same time it feels like there should be someone correcting him. There should be someone telling him he’s wrong.

But there isn’t, and that’s just how it is.

They form a team. Taako, Merle and Magnus; the reclaimers. They are hardly competent but they make it work and manage to have some fun along the way.

He feels a connection with the two. A connection that feels somehow familiar even though he has never had a person like that in his life.

Wonderland seems cool at first, but ends up being the shittiest place ever.

Taako is hurting, his friends are hurting and he’s fucking tired of it all. He thinks he might actually die here.

And then the liches take Magnus.

And Taako doesn’t think, he just acts.

“I got a fuckin’ idea for ya.”

#taz #taz fic #taaswrites #twinsweek #taako is my fave tbh but this is about them both kinda

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iphoenixrising · 7 years

Text

Tim Drake Week, Day 7: Injury/Healing

This is so laaaate and I’m sorry. But it’s cute, so enjoy.

Day 7: Healing/Injury

The warning is all there to read:

“Timmy.”

Oh.

Oh shit.

The brief flash, building a contingency, is short and bittersweet because the only thing that can deflect Dick Grayson’s mother-hen instinct is literally the wrath of God.

Maybe an alien invasion.

Or not.

The point is, once Dick’s got a hint of hurt vigilante, the man is an unstoppable tank, tearing through cities, bad guys, good guys, unimaginable boxes of cereal, any and all Party Cities and obscure comic book shops to find the culprit.

B couldn’t escape him in outer-fucking-space.

So, there’s that.

Take into account he’d been dodging the Titans also, and it’s just a hodgepodge of fuckery from there because this game thing they’ve got going on? The “Where’s Red?” game. It’s seriously balls, and is severely cramping his style.

Even Ra’s is refusing to pick up his phone calls, so you know shit has apparently gotten real on the good guy side of things.

Welp, he did his utmost best this time.

“Hi Big Wing,” he says over the comm in his ear and taps it to mute before kicking the thug out of his path and continuing on.

“What is this I hear about a really bad fight with the Fatal Five?”

Dammit.

“That about sums it up, really. A bad fight. A bad fight we totally won, by the way, thanks for asking.” He doesn’t make a sound as his left side twinges anyway, still raw under the bandages because he might have broken a few stitches or something.

Just not a big deal. Not enough to warrant

Dick’s Sixth Sense

“I hear the Persuader nailed you pretty good,” all easy, just big brother Dick. He’s not fooled for a second, oh hell no.

He huffs and climbs up into the vents, ignoring the pain of the aforementioned injury (and yes, an atomic axe is a weapon no one should try taking on without a serious enjoyment for pain) taps the comm back on and talks low enough to still listen for the usual signals of main bad guy HQ --->This way.

“I deflected his axe with repurposed Luthor tech. The calibrations weren’t that hard.” Which is completely, totally, unequivocally true. After the first hit took out a good piece of him because he’s good, but no one is that good.

Dick hums, fake and telling, making him freeze right in the middle of the vent. “Oh? Well, that’s fine. Knew you could do it, Timmy, but you’ve got to be taking it easy after a fight like that, right?”

“Sure am,” behind the whiteouts, he gets a load of very carefully stacked canisters in a storage room, which is just exactly what he’d been looking for. Almost. Bad guys too. He really liked wrapping up all the loose ends in a case before he puts it to bed. “Doing a little maintenance to the mainframe, cleaning up my old notes, doing some data analysis. All pretty tame.”

HA! ALSO TRUE.

He’s got this. It’s in the bag.

Mutes the comm and gingerly removes the vent cover, swinging in easy but the damn side pulls anyway. His wrist computer scans the labels, computes the explosive power in the room (there’s an app for that) while voices pass by, talking about the deal going down in a few hours.

(Yeah, bad news for you.)

“Good, good,” Dick is saying absently as the keypad case comes off and he works a little magic to change the access codes. “I’m glad you’re resting up, Tim. Taking care of yourself like you should since infections are terrible for you.”

Well, the thing about that is--

He was running out of time here. Yes, he took his antibiotics, but maybe he might be just, you know, feeling it a little.

Wisely, he taps the comm on just enough to “mmhmm,” his way through it.

“I mean, I would really hate it if you were working a case right now like that. Just, that would upset me so much, Tim.”

He pauses as the door slides open softly, thinking for a second he might not be able to bullshit his way out of this one.

His vigilante sense is tingling.

Not in any good kind of way.

But, the clock is ticking, and he strafes out of the weapons room to the door shutting behind him. Cracks his knuckles and his neck before it’s time to take to the shadows, do this as quickly and quietly as possible.

“You’d be out there. All alone. Without your team since they’re all taking a well-deserved vacay, Tim. They’re not out doing anything strenuous.”

He sucks in a breath, presses flat into the shadows until the first with a very nice AK-47 come right up on him--

And is down for the count.

“Hey, I just got a really good ping,” he zip ties the guy and keeps moving, “let me call you back when I get something--”

“And you’d just be making is worse, Tim,” Dick goes on, “because you don’t know your limitations sometimes--”

Shit. Here we go.

Second and third armed mercenary go down seamlessly. All kinds of winning right here.

By the time Dick has gotten somewhere around the, “and with what we do, Timmy, you have to understand the lines you can cross with your body and your health,” he has put down twelve, maybe fifteen, ready to come up on the big boss for the night so he can just get this over with and head back to the safe house for a nice long soak in a hot tub.

When the main doors open, however--

He sighs because he really hates when it’s twenty to one. Not that he doesn’t like those odds, but it’s still not his preferred ending of the night.

There’s a whole lot of guns cocking, shiny barrels pointed at him, and a sharp flash of white is his teeth in the glow because he’s smiling at how cute that is.

His gauntlet spits out a whirly bird, other hand full of pellets, and it’s time to rock.

“...but the best thing to keeping yourself on the up-and-up, Timmy? Something you taught all of us?”

The room explodes in a cacophonous mess of shit just breaking. Everywhere. Shit is breaking all over the place, and he didn’t even move.

His mouth drops open a little as the Outlaws and a dozen members of the Justice League form a half circle around the busted out wall and face his bad guys with a whole lot of yes please, I’ll have this dance.

Nightwing is in the center, celly held up to his ear, and the expression on his face under the domino is downright murderous.

“You need to know when to call in some friends.”

The ensuing fight is just absolutely bullshit.

Every time. Every. Time. he jumps in somewhere to take someone down, another superhero catches him and throws him out of the way.

He understood Hood doing it. He understood B. He understood Flash. He even understood Superman and Wonder Woman, but when it’s fucking Booster Gold?

That is beyond insulting.

He got here first for fuck’s sake and already called goddamned dibs!

“Stay out of this or Batman is going to kick my ass,” Booster just lays it out, “and I would much rather not do that.”

His utter frustration is compounded when Cyborg is downloading all their data and sending it to the Watchtower for analysis, the baddies in charge are already being questioned and a team sent out to meet the buyers, the weapons are being safely transported away, and just!

Dibs!

But instead, he’s got to contend with the stalking Nightwing, growling low and dangerous under his breath. He doesn’t even get enough time to fight being pretty much thrown over one of the older vigilante’s shoulders.

“Dammit! Put me down.”

“Oh? You think that’s going to happen?” Nightwing growls in that tone and send shivers, just all the shivers.

“I’m fine, I swear. I was on a time limit, I didn’t--!”

One powerful kick and the door is banging open, reinforced locks breaking apart. The Batplane is waiting, warmed up and ready to go.

“C’mon! I don’t need all this! There were only twenty of them, dammit.”

And nope. He sees a week full of bed rest and cuddles with his name written all over it apparently because even the most minute movement had Nightwing’s hand clamping down hard on the back of his thighs, very, very close to a pressure point that will put him out for hours.

Shit. Just, shit.

“I should warn you in advance, though,” as the leap up puts them in the cockpit, course already set for Gotham, “Alfred? Is even more pissed than I am, Timmy.”

His eyes go wide behind the whiteout, and his scramble to run is thwarted as the plane starts to rise.

#HA!#this #timdrakeweek2017 #tim drake #dick grayson #mentions of #everyone else in the DCU lol #my fic #my writing #day 7

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bestnoncannonship · 7 years

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Hey. ✌😄 I just read your body positivity rant and I want to ask you what I can do, because I'm 17 y/o, 6'0 tall and I have a really big crush on a boy who's like 5'8 or so and he's lanky and cute but I'm built more heavy than him and I'm afraid that he won't like me because of society standards... I'm sorry for bothering you. I hope that you're having a great day! 👌😊💖💕

Heya!!!So....I have to confess....it took me a LONG time to get this confident about my height/weight/build. I didn't start developing it till laaaate in college (and I'm still not 100% okay with my body, tbh). When I was seventeen and in high school I slouched around everywhere and was very jealous of short waifish girls. So good on you for even trying to conquer your image issues while still under 18!!!! You rule!!!And yeah, I know how it feels to be attracted to skinny waifish guys, cause I *AM* attracted to skinny waifish guys! (Matt Smith, I am looking at you you sexy Briddish shoelace!!!) And I do also feel like I'm going to be turned down for being bigger than they are. But, so far, it hasn't happened to me. A lot of guys are actually kinda turned on by physical strength. (At least all the guys I've dated have been.) I know it's hard to believe, because most media only portrays smaller, less physically imposing women as sexy, but it's true! Not all guys are into tiny girls! So don't let that incorrect assumption hold you back! That being said.....HIGH SCHOOL BOYS aRe SOoo imMaTUrE!!!!!!!! You may threaten their tiny, fragile budding masculinity. And if he refuses to date you cause his manhood is threatened by your height, he isn't worth your time! (Take it from me, I have learned that lesson the hard way.)So go for it. Put on your favourite dress/skirt/sweater/jeans/jacket/shoes. Do your hair. Fix your lipstick. And FLIRT with him. Hell, make the first move. I know it's hard, and scary, and the idea that he may reject you is absofuckingloutely terrifying....but you have as good a shot, if not better, as any other girl. You are not lesser because you are bigger.Sometimes, I find it helpful to pretend that I am one of my Valkarie Girl idols, like Gwendoline Christie (Or Robyn Lawly, or Venus Williams. Or Thor. Or Brianne of Tarth. Or just Gwendoline Christie again!! Really whoever you see as a tall, strong icon that you identify with). I ask myself "what would Gwendoline do?" And then I do that. It adds a little extra spring to my step and could give you just the boost you need to ask someone out!(And if it turns out that he is an insecure little manchild that turns you down, there will be another skinny, sexy mancandy out there who will say yes. Just wait for college/the real world, girl!!! You will find that once you go out into the world and expand your horizons, you will find people that appreciate the way you look, act, think, and feel.)Good luck, little sister Valkarie. Go out there and be unapologetic, cause you have nothing to be ashamed of!#valkariegirls forever!!Message me if you need anything. Seriously. I'm here for all my little sister Valkarie girls.

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princessnijireiki · 7 years

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(still waiting for my dad at the airport) there is this radio station in town I've only found twice, laaaate at night, reception fuzzy as hell most places I've driven through even after I've gotten it all in french, I'm p. sure it's haitian-american but catering to the haitian population around here (not super high in my city, but florida has a HUGE haitian & haitian-am population)— like it doesn't sound like white french at ALL, even though a few people's pronunciation is kind of sharp & "textbook-y" in a way I don't associate w. haiti immediately?? and so now each (both) times I've found it, I've changed stations over to what's like an Angry Politics hour, where people GO THE WHOLE FUCK OFF in french and the first time it was a woman going INNNNNN on donald trump, and I do not speak french, but I got EVERY WORD… tonight it's trump, someone called in talking abt whether or not his rise to power was due to a "supernatural" (????) influence (in a negative way lol), and then right now, people calling in HO.LLER.ING. about SOMETHING with the DR (I got a phone call so I missed part of it but like… could be anything). I love it, it's VERY ME, down to like this one caller's low battery alert going off in the bg of him talking DR-haiti politics, but it's SUPER Mysterious??????

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brujalatina · 7 years

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(1) jhdhjkjsd i'm smiling like an idiot 🤧💞 i wasn't feeling well bc all my friends are spending time together now that we're on holidays and i see them posting everything on sc and i feel left out again they always forget me or never say anything to me but when they see me again they ask me things like "oh i missed u why didn't we hang out together" 😔 but i won't delete i promise! 💞 yep i'll be in 5th grade next year and kjghbdjtt ME TOO!! the worst for me are class presentations or group

(2) projects and i tried to explain to my teacher that i really couldn’t do it and she tried to give me “advices” like “don’t worry you’ll just have to breathe and everything will be fine” like thx lol but that’s what i’ve been doing for the past 16 years and that didn’t work 😒😪 i only like summer for the way my skin looks atm kjdldssk other than that we should just skip summer winter is fine where i live, these past few year winter has been more warm in my opinion but i still like spring and

(3) fall the most. i live in the CEST time and it’s 00:19 here and ITS OKAY NOW i just eat chicken with pineapple and rice 😋🍚🍍🍗 its something my grandma did a lot when i was young but idk if it’s like a traditional meal from where my mother’s from i should ask! KDJDHJSFSH this is really cute i love this!! 🤧💞💞💞 i really don’t know what emoji i should use so i’m gon pick randomly with closed eyes! ok so it’s this one 🐢 jbkfjlkjj 💞✨ also i read your fic and I LOVE OT!!! can’t wait for

(4) part two!!! i’m also really happy bc english is my third language and i’ve made a lot of progress, i just had to look up 2 or 3 word while reading your fic! 💞 it’s honestly really good i’m looking forward to the part two!! 💖

ok but i had the same experience in high school with my friends like yeah? you missed me? then why didn’t you invite me to hang out? lol…i would hang out with you in a heartbeat😔💗 yeah the “just breathe” thing is absolute bullshit smh group projects are the WORST i’ve hard terrible a experience with group projects!!! every time i’m in a group project i’m either bossed the fuck around or i’m the one who has to take charge bc no one is bothering to do their work, there is no in-between!!! i had a fight with this girl last semester in my college bc she was bossing me the hell around and i was annoyed and went off on her and then she went off on me and it was just a mess..😪i wish i could just do individual work in school, that way i won’t have to deal with incompetent people or ppl dictating me on what to do ugh.

your dinner sounds so👅😩😭💓 i want some…i’m about to go make myself a chicken sandwich with the leftover chicken from lunch. i’m dominican and for some reason we eat dinner at lunch time and lunch at dinner time…it’s weird but that’s how i’m used to eating now so my stomach will feel weird if i eat rice past like 5pm. you should def ask! it’s so fun to get in touch with and learning about your background/culture/traditions💕 i hope you’re sleeping though it’s late over there already you shouldn’t stay up too laaaate. i’ll tuck you into bed 😴ajlshdfkdg you picked a random emoji and got the turtle one that’s so cute it’s a fitting emoji for u bc you’re so cute💓

i’m so glad you enjoyed my fic😣i’m not sure if you’re black or brown or chubby but i hope it’ll be enjoyable for you anyways even though i’ll be describing the reader in ways that point out that she isn’t white or skinny since a lot of other fics tend to do that and people like me who are black and not skinny can only picture the character being white and skinny. it sucks tbh :/ also btw may i know your pronouns so i know how to properly address you? i use she/her!!

and ok i had NO IDEA you aren’t a native english speaker!! i am very impressed bc you seem fluent in english wow👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾 being fluent in THREE languages must be so hard i wish i could do that..i only speak english and spanish fluently and only know a handful of korean words bc of kpop and kdramas😵 a lot of my spanish is dialectical because in the area in dominican republic where my parents were raised and my family resides, that type of dialect is most commonly used and so when i speak to someone who isn’t dominican i have to say my words carefully and NOT use the dialect that i’m used to using and instead stick to what some may call “proper” spanish so that ppl can understand me. that’s why in middle and high school i passed spanish with almost perfect scores but not perfect because of the fact that in the american education system the spanish we are taught is the spanish that is spoken in spain which uses words that aren’t typicailly used by dominicans, mexicans, peruvians, etc., but it’s what we’re taught and we HAVE to use them in the classroom and ugh it’s so annoying i’m just ranting at this point LOL let me stop🙄i’m going to go make that sandwich now and relaxxxxx😌

#asks #🐢anon

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kchatjjigae · 7 years

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When I heard that Miyavi was coming to town, I was all…well that’s nice. I remember Cherry Cordial and the Mystical Being of Unicorns have a big heart-on for him and he was on heavy rotation on my first KCon/Cherry Cordial visit. I think at one time I may have had some of his music on his phone but I didn’t really connect with it enough to keep it there. However, when it was suggested to me that I should go I was ‘eh’. When I found out the tickets were only twenty-five bucks? My tune turned to ‘heck yeah, I’ll go!’

Turns out though, it wasn’t just Miyavi who was playing. The whole concert was a tour called Asia on Tour, get this, Kiha and the Faces were going! That turned my heck yeah, into something even more excited. Then, of course, I had to admit, though Korean I liked Kiha and the Faces for the exact same reason I liked Miyavi — Cherry Cordial liked them.

There was also a third band playing named Slot Machine however since I didn’t know anything about them and didn’t care enough for the entire concert in general, I didn’t actually do any research on them in advance. That sounds terrible. I did care for the concert. It just wasn’t something I was excited with a bullet for….at least until someone kept sending me hot AF Miyavi gifs (seriously, how is someone allowed to be that sexy??) I sent one to Leila and she turned it into a Khottie of the Week. Then? Then I was excited.

Turns out I’m such a perv.

The night of the concert I met up with my work friend Oana, she is a HUGE Miyavi fan so when I brought it up she was all like, fudge yeah I’m coming.

The venue was a place called Irving Plaza which turns out is teenie tiny. Ahem. I believe the preferred term is intimate. Thinking back on it, I think it was about the same size as the venue where B1A4 performed earlier this year. They were late letting us in, they were late starting the show, the whole thing went laaaate. However. We got fairly close to the stage. I was a little concerned about being obvious with my camera as the security guard who waved me in said they might make me check it, which I didn’t want as I hate not being able to bring my camera places AND coat check was $4.50.

As it took a while for the concert to start, we met up with a friend in the crowd of Oanas’s who told us the second band was a Thai band he liked. Okay. Prepping for second band complete.

The first band to perform was Kiha and the Faces. Let me tell you this, Kiha? Flipping adorable. He knows how to play with the crowd, and totally appears to not take himself too seriously. When I heard that he was dating IU a while back I just didn’t understand, but after seeing him? I totally get it. Though they have since broken up, I totally ship them together and hope those crazy kids and work it out and be together.

While their music wasn’t my cup of tea, his personality and crowd interaction made the entire thing a lot of fun. My favorite part of the concert was when they covered at Talking Heads song.

I love that song and I love that cover of it. From the sounds of the crowds, I wasn’t the only one who was having a good time. Even Oana, who didn’t really have any interest in it, came out of there liking him and even liking their music.

Unfortunately, it was time for them to leave and the second band to come on stage. But not until Kiha played around with the mike stand, carrying it around like he was one of the seven dwarves off to work the mines, there was also an odd attempt at crowd surfing which was ill-advised and from the looks of the security guard who ran up to the stage, unappreciated by them.

Goodbye Kiha, you are too adorable — we’ll always have the Talking Heads.

Next up, Slot Machine.

Here is where I’ll have to admit? I was TOTALLY not into this band. Like really, really not into this band. Like so not into this band I was texting my friends while wishing I had enough battery on my phone to be able to read my fanfiction. (Okay. I maybe at one point I said damn the battery I’m reading!) I didn’t like their music, I didn’t like their act, I didn’t like them.

I feel terrible for saying that.

They only way I can describe them is as an 80’s hair band. Or they got their schtick from an 80’s hair band. There was one point, when at the last song the lead singer came back onstage with this weird visor over his face that me and the girl next to me both laughed inappropriately. What the? However. I had one of the BEST moments while watching these guys! Why?

There I was, discreetly scrolling through my phone (because I am not a monster) and all of a sudden, familiar notes began to play. Notes that I was obsessed with for what seemed like an entire year. My head perked up, my jaw dropped and I scrambled to hit the record on my phone because I KNEW all of my friends would murder me if I didn’t document this astounding moment.

THEY SING THE LOVESICK THEME SONG!

GAAAHHHHHHHH! My mind blew. I was so excited I’m fairly certain I was grinning like a stupid idiot. But I didn’t care. It was Lovesick guys, Love. Sick.

Night? Even if Miyavi forgot to come out on stage my night was totally made. By this band that I literally rolled my eyes at. I’d apologize guys but then the visor thing happened and your guitarist licked his guitar strings and all my good will slipped away.

Eventually, they were off the stage, which meant one thing and one thing only.

Miyavi.

The man and the guitar.

Is there another more powerful word for guitar?

Something that is infinitely sexier? Whatever that word is that was what was on stage with Miyavi that night.

Okay, let’s get this out of the way. This man is sexy AF.

And he totally knows it. Like for real totally knows it.

But here’s the thing, Miyavi is crazy talented. He sings some. I’m pretty sure I remember that. But what I remember the most is his amazing guitar skills. What he could do with that instrument while strutting around the stage and pose, pose, posing was pretty amazing.

He has this stage presence which overtakes the whole room. He knows just how to pose, just how to preen, to act while performing to capture the audience’s attention, egging on the crowd’s enthusiasm for him. It was pretty astounding to watch. I think it comes from his background in the Visual K (I think that’s what it’s called, but it could be Visual J? Would that make sense? His JPop roots.) style that taught him this.

While again, his music wasn’t really for me, that night it didn’t matter. His presence was enough to win over the whole crowd for the night. I’d go and see him again in a heartbeat. Heck, I’d pay double to see him. Triple. (Thank goodness those tickets were only $25.) If he comes to perform anywhere remotely around you, I suggest you do the same.

Here’s a gallery of my photos taken that night.

Asia On Tour: Or How I’m Currently Pregnant With Miyavi’s Musical Baby When I heard that Miyavi was coming to town, I was all...well that's nice. I remember Cherry Cordial and the Mystical Being of Unicorns have a big heart-on for him and he was on heavy rotation on my first KCon/Cherry Cordial visit.

#Asia on Tour #B1A4 #Concerts #IU #Kiha and the Faces #Miyavi #Slot Machine

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