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pupcuck · 5 months

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STOCKING FILLER !

ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. p in v, filming, throat fucking, ddlg dynamics, creampie, daddy kink

note. the first part to my xmas fics! hooray! starting off very short so i apologise! ignore any typos! this is a part 2 to my fic lovey-dovey if you would like to read that first! if you see typos just know i will detonate :3 not entirely proud of this as it’s slightly repetitive but I promise the next fics will be more interesting! reblogs n feedback is much appreciated!

lovey-dovey

Huh. So that’s what you want for Christmas. Cock. What a surprise. Leon didn’t peg you as an icky little perv, his sweet girl can get down and dirty when she wants, but a sex tape? That’s new. Guess he could whip out the old camcorder, make you into a movie star, you’re certainly pretty enough. And with those false lashes on? Yeah, that’ll be a mega-hit, could make a fortune off of it, no more getting skullfucked by monsters in the field, just sticking his dick in all of your tight holes to pay the bills.

“Daddy?” He feels small cold hands on his shoulder. Yelps in a way that makes you giggle.

“Scared me, baby.” Leon huffs out a breath, tucks the letter behind his back, but you’ve got a sharp eye. His little girl knows too much. Daddy tries to keep it out of your reach, it’s for your own good, but you’re so nosy. Curious little thing.

“Why you readin’ my letter?” You wipe your nose on your sleeve, caught the flu over the weekend, doesn’t stop you from peeking over his shoulder 24/7. “That’s between me and Santa.”

“‘Cause Santa said I could,” Leon says simply.

“Nuh-uh, he didn’t.” You shake your head in disbelief as if Leon’s breach of privacy is the greatest betrayal since the whole Judas debacle. He didn’t know you and Santa had terms and conditions like that.

“Well, he did, ‘cause how else is daddy supposed to know what you want?” Leon pats the seat beside him, you go to climb over the back of the couch but he gives you a look. The daddy look of disapproval. You grunt in annoyance and make the short trip over to him. Walking around the sofa is a total pain when you’re sick - perfectly happy to terrorise him though. “Why’re you up anyway?” He goes to check his watch, “it’s midnight.”

“I got cold, daddy.” You tell him, blink up at him with big eyes that tell Leon something’s up. “And, um, I lied to daddy.”

“You lied?” Leon repeats, raising his brow. His girl doesn’t lie. Only naughty babies lie.

“I lied.” You confirm with a solemn nod. “I don’t believe in Santa, daddy.”

Shock horror. Leon clutches his chest. “Why’d you lie to me like that, babydoll?”

“Shy.” Is your plain answer.

“What, like, about Santa?”

“No, daddy,” you shake your head and let out a frustrated puff of breath through your nose, kicking your feet to distract yourself, “‘bout what I wanted from you.”

“Oh, baby,” Leon chuckles, he wraps his arm around your shoulder, draws you to his warm chest and kisses the crown of your head. “What’re you shy about, hm? I’ve had my tongue in your ass.”

Your little fists smack against his chest, muffling your embarrassed whines of daddy into his chest. It makes Leon laugh harder. “All I’m sayin’ is, sweetheart, you could ask daddy anything and I’d do it for you.” Leon is rough and calloused, but for you, he aches to be kind and soft. He’d do whatever you say in a heartbeat. If you want porn, so be it, he’ll fuck you till his dick pops off from overuse. And even then he’d let you keep his disembodied cock as a toy.

You make your recovery by Christmas Eve. Thank heavens. You’re a nightmare when sick, more so in this headspace. Grown-up you is responsible. Knock back two painkillers, cough medicine and settle into bed. Little you? God, she’s wreaking havoc. He had to change the quilt about five times, you said it was too lumpy, too thin, too ugly. Fucking Princess and the Pea. Insulted the duvet his mom made way back when, yeah, it’s patchwork, yeah, it’s ugly as fuck. You don’t gotta say it outloud though. Then you insist on using anything but a napkin to wipe your nose and— God. He’s just glad it’s over. Also means Leon can touch you again. In the way he wants, in the way you want.

Dressed in the pinkest of pinks, you sit on your knees in the middle of Leon’s California king. He insisted on finding that old camcorder, but you looked at him like he was crazy, told him his phone would do the job. The frilled hem of your babydoll rests pretty on your knees, it’s dangerously low cut to show more than just your décolletage, and the cups don’t fit right, a little too tight. You had complained, said it gave you four boobs or whatever that means. Leon patted you on the butt and told you he liked it. What kinda man says no to a big pair of tits? You might be his little girl but there’s nothing little about those, or that fat pussy, Jesus Christ. Had to swap out the matching thong ‘cause it got swallowed up between your fat lips, instead you’ve gone for comfort. Cotton panties printed with these vintage-looking lambs. There’s a blue ribbon dotting the hem that sits snug below your belly button. Through the sheer pink, he can see ‘em. Drives Leon crazy.

The camera counts down. 3, 2, 1. He steps into frame, shaky like he’s got an audience. A rogue hand brushes the front of his pants, you’re making eyes at him, licking the gloss off your lips. “C’mon, baby, get to work.” Leon pinches your cheek when you go to unzip his jeans with your naughty fingers, “Babies don’t use their hands, do they?”

You shake your head, ribbons bobbing along with you. Then you lower your head, take his zipper between your teeth and tug it down in jagged intervals. He’d taken his belt off earlier, knows that would be a little too mean. You can’t even tie a cherry knot with that tongue. Not that Leon can either. You’re pleased to find out he’s not wearing much at all underneath, letting out a hum of delight when his cock springs free, almost hitting you in the nose. What a video that could be Cock So Fat I Give My Girl A Nosebleed!

Very diligently, you run your tongue along his shaft, suck on each ball for ten seconds, then you work the tip. Your cheeks hollow as you take him into your mouth, you gag and pull back with a cough ‘cause he tickled the back of your throat.

“Thought you were a big girl.” Leon snickers at the slightly dazed expression on your face, the stringy spit that’s trickling down your chin, falling in fat globs between your tits.

“I am, daddy.” You insist in that whiny voice.

“Suck cock like a big girl then.” He slaps your right tit hard enough to make them knock together like Newton’s cradle. “C’mere, sweetheart.” Leon tucks his hands beneath your armpits and drags you to the edge of the bed, your head dangles at an angle that’s entirely uncomfortable. The only thing that’s in frame is his bare ass, and that’s not pleasant, but come on. He’s gotta do this.

Leon wipes the fat head of his cock across your pout, you open up like a good girl, he stuffs his dick down your tight throat, balls pressed to the point of your nose. Thinks he hears you inhale, then your little hands come to fondle his fat balls and the no-hands rule flies out the window. “Jesus Christ, you fuckin’ nympho, baby.” He pats your cheek, bucks his hips into your mouth to hear those delicious gag, gag, gaggin’ sounds. Once you’ve lathered him in enough spit, Leon pulls out with a wet pop, drags his balls over your face like you want him to. Nasty little thing.

Panting for breath, you sit up, pressing the back of your hand to your head daintily. “That’s good for you.” Leon comments, “makes your hair grow ‘cause all the blood is rushing to your head, Claire told me.”

“Not true, daddy,” you giggle, rubbing your temple to soothe the bursting pressure. You smile pretty when he lays you back, your head dipping between the pillows. He kisses your cheek, and you take his hand in yours, kissing his knuckles tenderly. A soft creature with even softer tendencies.

Leon’s quick to get you out of your panties, hooks his fingers in the waistband and peels the soaked seat from your slick cunt. Much to your embarrassment - he lifts them to his nose and takes a whiff, his tongue pokes out to collect the arousal that’s gathered in the centre. Then he digs into the source itself, presses his nose into your chubby pussy, sucks on your clit like it’s hard candy. The muffled moans he lets out into your cushiony cunt don’t go unheard, so brazen about it, you grow fidgety and pull at his hair. Leon lifts his head, stubble shiny with your slick, licks his lips to catch every last drop. What was he doing down there? Motorboating it?

“Daddy…” You whine, press your foot against his face to stop him. Leon captures your ankle, then kisses the sole of your socked foot, he uses it as leverage, spreads you even further. Till your thighs ache, and your pussy parts ever so slightly, he’s quick to press his cock to your twitching clit. A steady hand drags Leon’s cock up and down your folds, cock catching on your bud each time.

“Look at her, baby, missed me, didn’t she?” Leon coos, his eyes zeroed in on your spread cunt, watching how your hole flutters around nothing. Poor baby. You need his fat cock so bad. Need to be plugged up before you spring a leak. Gosh, he wouldn’t want that. “She’s beggin’ for daddy, hm? Listen to her, she’s speakin’ to me.” He smiles when your drippy cunt squelches, the slick, gushy sounds going straight to his cock as it jumps. Way to give him away. Leon don’t have a tail that wags but he sure does have a cock, and it’s hard enough to break open a walnut.

Up and down, up and down. Leon guides his cock over your clit, and past your fleshy folds, teases your needy hole by stretching you out with just the tip. Then he pulls out. When he finally fucking pushes into your warmth, you squeeze him tight, he sinks in till all of him is wrapped up in your cunt. And you squirt for him. Eyes rolled back into your head, acrylics taking down his chest, back bowing off the bed ‘cause it was just too much for his baby and her precious princess parts.

“Mmmmmphhh!” You let out a squeaky sound into the palm of your hand.

“Yeah? That so, baby?” Leon clicks his tongue, tosses your flimsy legs over his shoulders, tugs down the cups of your babydoll so he can suck your tits.

Another stream of pitchy moans. “Uh huh?” Leon responds, nodding down at you like he knows just what his dumb little girl means.

“Daddyyyyyy!” His balls plap, plap, plap against your perky ass, gonna fuck you till his heart gives out. That’s what you deserve.

“Yeah, darling? You’re talkative today, huh?” Leon cranes his neck and bites down on your nipple, leaves it all puffy. His pace slows, focuses on giving it to you slow and deep, circles his hips so you feel every inch of him. The slow, sticky grind makes a wet noise, a ring of white glistening around the wide base of his cock. You’ve gone and creamed around him.

“Mmmm… Daddy…”

“Aw, is that right my girl?”

Then you bristle, go rigid in his grip, chest heaving and your mouth falls open in a silent moan. “Ohhh, is it right there, sweetpea? Yeah? Mhm? Right there? Gonna make a big mess for daddy?” Leon presses down on your abdomen, his dick hits that special spot just right, and his tongue swirls over your nipple.

“Daddy, daddy, daddy— oh, daddy,” you whimper, spurting your release each time his cock slams against your cervix, wetting his stomach with each burst. Getting him all messy in the way he likes.

“Alright, alright, keep it down, little lady.” Leon soothes you, his warm hand rubbing your side as you tremble in his arms, breath shuddering until he dumps his load in you.

You go slack beneath him, little hand coming to rub your tummy after his warmth floods into you. He spreads you open to see how your cunt gapes, empty without his fat cock, his seed dribbles out as your pussy contracts, spills down your ass crack. Leon gives your clit one last kiss, ‘cause it’s pretty and you’re pretty, and pretty girls deserve handsome daddies who kiss their swollen little clits.

“Daddy,” you point over his shoulder, brows drawn together as your bottom lip wobbles. Never a good sign. He turns to see his phone has fallen flat on its face. See, this is why he should’ve got the camcorder out.

“Oh, baby, it’s alright,” Leon coos, you preen as he peppers your sweaty face in kisses, “we can just start again, huh? We got all night.”

“But, but, but, daddy, I gotta be sleepin’ when Santa comes.” You blubber.

“Thought you didn’t believe in him, babe.” He flicks your forehead.

“I don’t, daddy, but, will you still fill my stocking? When I go to sleep, daddy?” You’re giving him those big eyes again, batting your lashes. Santa is a ploy to get more presents. He’d figured that out.

“Yes, baby.” Leon agrees to calm you down, “but first I gotta grant your Christmas wish, don’t I?”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut

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house-of-lovin · 1 year

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legally binded - 4

Jenna Ortega x F!Reader

masterlist | series mast. | prev part | next part

Chapter 4: Family Bonding, Festivals and Feelings?

Summary: After getting caught in some hot waters with the press, you are forced into an unexpected agreement with America's sweetheart, Jenna Ortega to save your career.

Warnings/Tags: dual!pov, famous!reader, mentions of hard substances, intoxication, mature language, real people (do not read if any of these makes you uncomfortable)

(this is all fiction!)

Note: Things are gearing up 😮‍💨 (ik i said i was gonna take a break, but i couldn’t help myself, now ill take a break lol, happy readin!)

Word Count: 6k+

“No one’s going to get cancelled — it’ll be fun.” Colin Jost smiles curtly on your flat screen TV.

You sit on the bed with a spoon hanging from your lips, an eye on the bright screen having just finished watching a rerun of Jenna’s SNL episode. You made sure to buy it as soon as it was available; locking yourself away in your room.

Currently, you are watching this week’s episode of SNL and Colin and Che are giving their weekly news update.

“Las Vegas is opening up a pop-up vaccine site in a strip club and don’t worry the strippers say the vaccine comes with singer and actress Y/N L/N. This time she’ll be the designated driver – I heard she’s on a tight leash.”

Your smile instantly drops.

“Speaking of Y/N,” Colin bounces off, reading off the cue cards. “Did you see her last week sitting in the audience during Jenna Ortega’s episode… hey, I wonder if they’re a real thing.”

Colin and Che share a knowing glance, “Nah.” They say in unison then move on to their next bit.

Scowling, you turn the TV off, practically throwing your bowl of cereal on the side table.

You supposed you can’t be too mad – all too familiar with the snide jabs and harmless jokes from others in the industry. This is what you signed up for, right?

Whatever, you’re sure people are loving it.

It’s been a whole week since you left New York and you haven’t spoken to Jenna. It seems how you two acted back in the Big Apple was a success because it got your managers to back off, for now. You didn’t see a reason to contact the actress so you let the silence pass — you see when she posts on social media.

You don’t have time to think about it because Coachella weekend is coming up soon. For the first time since Vegas, you will be working and you have been itching – wanting nothing more than to dive head-first into work mode.

It’s what you do best.

You are invited to do a guest performance on a big producer’s set for the festival. It would be your first ever time performing at Coachella but you were privy to the culture of the festival, having gone as an audience member to support your musician friends.

“Hey, you got a minute?” Link pops his head in your door, holding a phone up.

–

“Please don’t do this.” Your pleas go underheard.

“I don’t know why you keep trying, the answer is the same Y/N.” Link rolled his eyes, pointing to a house.

“I think this is the one.”

You scan the two-story typical American home tucked away in the boroughs of suburbia up in the desert, otherwise known as Coachella Valley.

Or well, Jenna’s parent’s house at least.

After Link had dropped the most terrible news; you had to be seen with Jenna in Coachella. Liv and Jake had instructed your team to drive you to stay with Jenna as you prepare for the festival – it was convenient they said.

Convenient my ass.

“Relax... Marcus will be back to pick you up, he’s gonna drop off your bags at the rental house.”

“Why can’t I just go with you then?” You ask.

“Liv said to drive you to this address. Jenna gave explicit directions to drive you here.”

You frown pulling on a loose thread on your sweater.

What could Jenna possibly want that she’d want you here? She looked pretty upset at you, the last time you talked.

You really don’t have it in you to fight with her, again, especially after the long drive from L.A. up to the desert where you thought — you’d be staying in your villa for Coachella weekend.

“Now go see the girl, please.” Link reaches over to open the door.

When you step out, the car is already driving speedily down the street not even giving you a chance to change your mind. You hear a flurry of voices from the side of the house but it sounds far away. Toy cars and trollies litter the grass yard.

Slowly, you walked up her porch, your shoes scraped as you ascend the concrete steps. Hesitating for a brief moment, you realize: Jenna is inside. Well duh. But the thought of her on the other side of the door has your heart dropping out of nowhere. You see flashes in your memory of her frown as you explain why you have to leave New York so soon.

Unspoken words as she says ‘well I thought–’

What did she think?

You would probably never know.

The door opens with a creak breaking you out of your thoughts.

“We have to stop meeting like this.” Aliyah leans against the doorframe, smiling.

You laughed, “Yeah, we do.”

She doesn’t say anything else and just yells over her shoulder, “Jenna, she’s here.”

Then walked off.

“Hi…” Jenna appears, leaning on the doorframe with a hand.

She scans you for a brief moment; not having seen you since New York, a week ago. She had to make sure you’re still alive because she hasn’t heard from you since then.

You also practically ghosted her.

After feeling guilty about how she left things with you, Jenna sent you a text the next day, asking if you made it back to Los Angeles safely.

You liked her message with a thumbs up.

A thumbs up! Not responding would have been better, the actress bitterly thought.

“Hey.” You greet. “How are you?”

“Fine. You?” She answered quickly, smile sealed tight like an envelope.

“I’m… good. Yeah. Just working.” You answer honestly.

“Oh really?” Jenna asked.

“Yeah, something for Coachella actually.”

Jenna raised her brows in surprise. “Like what?”

You send a tight-lipped smile, “It’s a surprise. People don’t know I’m here yet.”

Jenna can’t fight her excitement; giddy about being in on a secret. But then she remembers that she’s supposed to be annoyed at you and not fascinated.

“Why haven’t you texted me?” Jenna sighed, her voice dropping to a lowly whisper, in case someone was walking by.

You raised your brows, surprised by her question. “Oh… um. I’ve been busy like I said, just working, trying to keep my head down and all that.”

“Are you sure that’s it?” She asked accusingly.

You missed her tone and shrugged, reassuring her, “Yeah. Of course.”

“But, I heard you were busy this week too, filming another movie with Barry Keoghan and The Weeknd?” You changed the subject, hoping to talk about something else. She takes the bait after scanning your eyes for a second.

“Yeah, it was just a short role. But it was a lot of fun. Abel actually talked about you.”

“That’s great, I’m happy for you Jen… and yeah he’s an old friend.”

“Sung your praises pretty high, I had to make sure he was talking about the right person.”

You chuckle, “Oh okay, I see how it is.”

Your laugh caused a sudden warmness to manifest in Jenna and she couldn't help but join along. “Come on, my family has been dying to see you again.”

“Really?” You asked, stepping inside her childhood home. “So you think I made a good impression?”

She turned to look back at you, surprised that you care. “Maybe… don’t let it get to your head, though.”

You laughed as you followed her through the house. “Is that jealousy I hear Ortega? Scared you won't be the only movie star around?”

She snorted, rolling her eyes. “Shut up. You’re an idiot.”

“An idiot that may have impressed your family?” You cocked your head and grinned wide.

“Yeah, yeah. Like, I said. Don’t let it get to your head. They could care less about celebrities and Hollywood. They’re pretty grounded.”

You shrugged, looking at the various family pictures hanging on the wall. “It’s fine. There’s only one Ortega I want to impress anyway.”

You’re not sure where that came from and it seemed Jenna shared the same thought because she raised her brows at you – but didn’t comment.

Jenna blocks you from walking when you reached the sliding glass door. “What?”

Jenna chewed her lip anxiously, “My family can be a lot. In numbers and in the other sense too. There’s a lot of us.”

“Oh… that’s okay.” You answered. A bit confused as to why she is telling you this. When you see her genuine concern your gaze softens. “Jenna, relax. I can handle the family… and I can charm anyone’s socks off.”

She relented, rolling her eyes at your joke. “Okay, okay.”

"Wait..."

Jenna turns around.

"Why am I here exactly? At your parents, that is. Link told me that you gave my driver instructions to bring me here."

Jenna bites her lip in contemplation. "Um—like I said my family wanted to see you again and I heard you were going to Coachella anyway so you know, two birds one stone."

You nod, accepting her answer.

Jenna opens the door for you two to step out.

–

Sounds of laughter rang around as you and Jenna sat in lawn chairs in her parent’s backyard.

“What are Timothee Chalamet and Zendaya like in real life?” Markus – Jenna’s brother leaned forward to ask.

“Markus!” Jenna scolded and threw her brother a glare.

The actress blushed as she sat beside you but all she felt was the vibrations of your laughter, indulging her brother’s question.

Jenna can’t help but wonder if you have other family members that spend time with you like this. You look so carefree and genuinely happy; comfortable around her family — after knowing you for a couple months now; she guesses it’s a no.

“They’re cool. Just like everyone else to be honest. Especially, Timothee, sweet guy but he’s a bit of a typical frat bro.” You joked, “And Zendaya, well. She’s just as amazing as everyone says she is. Great work ethic, it’s inspiring when you work with someone passionate like that – makes you want to be better and work harder.”

Jenna’s sisters are eating your story up. Secretly she knew they enjoyed the tales of celebrities and pop culture. It’s nearly impossible to live your life without seeing a public figure pop up on an ad on your phone or on the side of a bus stop on your drive home.

Jenna is barely home enough to be able to have moments like this where she can humour her sister's questions. But they all had their own lives to live. She's has been looking forward to this break for a while, knowing it was coming up after her long week in New York.

She still can’t describe New York.

Something seems to have shifted between you two by the end of the week. But she didn’t know if it was for the better. The two of you have this constant push and pull; where everything is fine one moment, then one of you says something and it turns tense and weird as you both stay silent or you just completely blow up on each other.

Jenna didn’t know if she had it in her to try to decipher what these restrained responses she gets from you could possibly mean.

You are an enigma; a defensive, hot-headed asshole that grinded every gear the actress had.

“Do you like Zendaya, buddy?” You bounced her niece in your lap, enjoying how the baby grabbed at your fingers.

But then Jenna turns around and you act like this. Sweet, protective, charming.

How are you the same person?

She can’t fight her smile as she watched the adorable sight.

Jenna didn’t know you were good with babies.

“I think Z would think you’re just the most adorable thing. Oh my god, Jen, can I send her a picture of us?” You turned to her, with a bright smile.

Jenna didn’t know when you started calling her by her nickname but she certainly won’t say how she enjoys how it sounds when you say it. “Uh–sure, if it’s okay with my sister.”

“Zendaya’s gonna have a picture of my baby on her phone? Uh yes!”

Jenna laughed, nodding. “I’ll take the picture.” She took your phone, opening the camera.

“What are you doing? Get in here with us." You asked with an adorable scrunch in the nose, surprising Jenna.

“Oh, I just thought— okay.” She swallows her growing grin, sliding in beside you.

Her sisters share knowing glances.

You happily scooted in, pressing your chest to her back.

Jenna is suddenly reminded of her you and her, alone in her dressing room.

She presses back into you.

“Say, cheese guys!” Jenna clears her throat.

With big bright smiles, you placed your head above her shoulder to get in the frame, repeating, “Cheese!”

Even her niece seemed to be enjoying the attention as she smiled brightly and toothless while standing on your lap with her chubby legs. Jenna snapped a couple for good measure, checking over the pictures. The three of you are squished together as she held it in portrait; you all looked cute Jenna can admit.

Like a little family.

What?

“Oh Jenna, send me that, please. I want to post it on my Instagram.” Her mom spoke up already reaching for her phone.

“Okay, okay.” Jenna rolled her eyes but sent herself the pictures first before airdropping them to – everyone – who begged for it.

“This is adorable, I think I’m gonna make this my lock screen.” You grinned, staring at the photo. She sees you typing a message, indeed sending it to the actress like you said you would. “Just for your niece.”

Jenna felt her heart skip a beat. “Are you saying you’re gonna crop me out the photo?”

“No… but now that’s a good idea, thanks.” You mocked with a smile.

“Mom, how did you already post that picture so fast?” Mia asked.

–

“Don’t be mad.” Jenna begged.

“Mad? Jenna. This isn’t what I signed up for.” You pinched the bridge of your nose.

The two of you were standing in her driveway, in a discord of course. Jenna just forced you into another situation that you wanted no part of.

“You just told Link to call off my driver and now you’re saying don’t be mad. Of course, I’m mad! Why did you say yes to your Mom, Jenna.” You sighed, dropping your hand limply.

“I didn’t know she’d insist.” She groaned walking closer, “She said that you shouldn’t stay in that big house by yourself for the weekend when there is room here, next thing I know she’s forcing me to ask you in front of everybody.”

"I'm sorry." She grabs your arm. “Link said you might be mad.”

You stare at her for a couple of moments. Their hearts are in the right place, you guessed. Eventually, you rolled your eyes and sighed. “Thank you I guess… I appreciate that the sentiment.”

Jenna smiled in relief, “Yeah, of course.” Then scrunched her nose in thought. “We actually really don’t have the room so I don’t know where she’ll put you.”

She should have known. This is so typical and cliche; sharing a bed trope? Please, can the universe be any more unoriginal?

“Mom, are you sure?” Jenna whispered as she peaked her head out the small awning of the door – making sure you can’t hear.

“Jen, go to sleep. We have a packed day tomorrow. Everyone’s coming over for the game.”

Tomorrow is sports night and her uncles, aunts, cousins and grandparents are set to come over. It was a weekly tradition for the extended family to host a gathering to watch the game every Friday; with Jenna’s busy schedule, she hasn’t been to one in months. She’s grateful this one is hosted at her house but then inwardly sighed because she should probably warn you about that too.

“Mom…” She pleaded in a whisper.

“Goodnight and be responsible. I trust you two.”

“Mom!”

Jenna dropped her head in defeat as she listened to her Mom’s footsteps dwindle further away.

“Hey, you should probably get in there before all the hot water runs out..”

She turns, seeing your freshly showered figure. For a moment, Jenna finds herself stuck. You’re rubbing a towel on your wet hair as grey sweats hung lowly on your hips and she was desperately trying to avert her eyes from the small patch of you skin exposed.

“I already showered.”

“Oh okay.” You shrugged walking over to grab your phone.

“Which side do you prefer?” You asked absentmindedly,

“What?” Jenna blinks away.

“Of the bed. Which side do you prefer?”

“Oh. The left.”

“Thank god. Every bed I’ve had to share I’ve had to fight for the right side. You’re perfect.”

Jenna watched as you jump into your preferred side, getting comfortable under her covers.

She doesn’t know why she feels a mismatched thump fall out of rhythm with her heartbeat at seeing you in her bed.

“Alright, are you gonna be weird about sharing a bed? ‘Cause I can just take the couch or call my driver to pick me up. I can get a hotel room or something.” You sighed sitting up.

Jenna furrowed her brows, “What no. Can you please stop jumping to conclusions?”

“I’m not.” You mumbled but don’t argue further. Jenna gets in beside you.

“You satisfied now?” She throws out but it sounds just shy of playful and maybe even flirtatious – definitely not how she meant for it to sound.

“Uh– sure.” You replied sliding the blanket up to your chin as you tried to get comfortable again.

There’s that weird tension again, Jenna thinks and she thinks it’s starting to annoy her.

“Okay, what’s your deal?” Jenna crossed her arms, turning to you.

You blinked, confused. “What?”

“Why are you being so weird?”

“I’m not.” You sat up to face the other actress.

Jenna frowned, “Yes you are. You have been since New York. Did I do something? Because you still haven’t told me why you just left town like that.”

“I told you. Jake wanted me back for Coachella. Why else would I have just left all of a sudden?” You explained.

“I just– I just feel like you’re not telling me something.” She admits, a bit insecure. “I, at least, thought we’re friends now and when I didn’t see you in the crowd or the dressing room after SNL I was a bit… disappointed? I don't know if it’s dumb but you really did calm me down before my monologue and I wanted to thank you over dinner. But, yeah–”

Jenna looks away, missing your guilty frown. “Jenna… it’s not dumb. God, I feel like an asshole.”

“Well, sometimes you can be.”

You laugh but it’s dry. “I’m so sorry. I–I should have been there.”

You grab her hands. “Look at me, please.” It gets her to look up, the light from the lamp is bouncing off your eyes making them look softer in the dim light. “I promise, I’ll always be there for the important moments from now on. Before, during and after – we are stuck together until the foreseeable future, so.”

Jenna snorts, looking down at your hands. You begin to rub lines with your fingers on her open palm making her shiver. “Yeah, I guess we are.” She whispers.

She doesn’t know when she makes the bold move to intertwine your fingers. But for the first time since SNL, you two hold hands and this time you don’t pull away. But she doesn’t miss the questioning glint in your eyes as you look down. Jenna ignores the attention and squeezes your hand to make you look at her again.

“You mean it though?”

Your eyes soften. “I mean it.”

–

“Where’s Y/N?” Mia asked over the breakfast table.

“Rehearsals,” Jenna mumbled sleepily shoving spoonfuls of food in her dry mouth – still trying to wake up.

When the actress had awakened, the sun was high above the horizon and the desert heat was already inching inside her cracked window. But she woke up, alone.

Differing from how she went to sleep the previous night with you barely pressed up beside her as you laid with your backs to each other. Jenna only found herself un-tensing after hearing your breathing fall into short even exhales.

When she turned over to grab her phone this morning, you had sent a text:

Sorry for not waking you up. You sleep like a rock but I had to go to rehearsals. I’ll be back by 3 :)

She couldn’t be too annoyed at the smiley face you leave with your occasional messages.

“She’s performing?” Mia asks shocked.

Jenna nods, too tired for words.

“The crowd is gonna lose their minds.” Aliyah laughs. “With who?”

“Won’t say.” Jenna muttered bitterly, thinking back to her incessant begging; you never caved.

“Okay… can we talk about it, now then?”

“Talk about what Mia,” Jenna sighs dropping her fork on her plate.

“You and Y/N.” She says like it’s obvious.

“There is no me and Y/N, it’s all for the cameras. Remember the NDA I had to beg you guys to sign?” The actress rolls her eyes.

“Then why were you so upset after New York?” She challenges; tired of her sister’s silence over this whole situation. There’s no way she’s just unaffected by this.

“Mia drop it.” Her mom says.

“No. I’m serious, she’s literally staying under our roof, sharing a room with Jenna. And no one is still saying anything? Am I the only one who thinks there’s something going on?”

“Yes.” Jenna says quickly.

Mia rolls her eyes, “You still haven’t answered my question, Jen.”

Jenna crosses her arms, sitting up. “Of course I was upset. She just left town without a warning, if we didn’t catch her in the lobby she was just gonna a send a text. A text! Anyone would be upset at that — but it doesn’t mean what you think it means.”

But her sister doesn’t buy it. She opens her mouth to refute but their Dad swoops in saving the day. “Leave your sister alone, Mia. I’m sure whatever is going on with Y/N and Jenna – they can figure it out themselves.”

Jenna groans, “Dad, not helping.”

He shrugs, sitting at the head of the table with his own plate of breakfast.

Eventually, her family scatters to their own corners of the house to get ready for the day. Her other family members would be arriving soon and the actress had to start getting ready. Crap, she forgot to warn you about game night because you left so early. Jenna decides she’ll send you a text after she gets out of the shower.

With the raucous of the day, Jenna forgets to send the text. Her cousins arrived much earlier than anticipated and she was already getting pulled out to living room to talk about her upcoming projects. She gets so lost catching up with her cousins that she doesn’t realize when you arrive.

"Jenna, your novia is here." One of her aunts shouts making her head snap up to you as the front door opens. "Oh wow, and she's brought the whole store!"

Jenna's jaw drops as you walk in, holding multiple large bouquets of different arrangements of flowers. "Y/N?"

"Hey!" You peek your head out from the large flowers. "These are for your family... but I may have overestimated how big these were and Link refused to help me."

"Oh god, these are beautiful Y/N." Jenna's mom gets up from her seat, grabbing as many flowers as she can. "You didn't have to..."

"Oh, it's nothing, really. You guys are letting me stay here, I just wanted to express a little gratitude." You duck your head, all timid now.

Jenna knows it's not nothing. Those flowers cost a fuck ton, she would know she gets gifted those whenever she has an event.

"Well, gratitude expressed. I don't even know where to put these. Mia, Aliyah help the girl, please!"

The two sisters grab all but one smaller bouquet from your hands, walking away with smug smiles.

"Jen, get up," Aliyah whispers in passing as all the women and Jenna's dad filter over to the kitchen to view the gorgeous flowers.

She still hasn't moved from the couch and briefly, she thinks she can feel her cousin's smirking at her reaction.

"You got my family flowers?" Jenna asks dumbly, walking over slowly; ignoring everyone's eyes on them.

"Uh—yeah. Sorry if it's a bit much. I wasn't sure what everyone liked so... I got them all." You scratch your head with a bouquet in hand, catching Jenna's eye.

"These are for you..." You smile, holding out a smaller albeit more personal? flower arrangement. It felt like Jenna, somehow.

“I picked it out myself.” Your smile turns shy.

Like, if she were to walk into a flower shop and see this bouquet, she would instantly grasp it and never let go.

We still talking flowers?

"Thanks..." Jenna mumbles, grabbing the flowers; your fingertips touching sends sparks down her arm.

"Um—you're back early..." Is all she manages to say.

“Yeah… they didn’t need me for a long time so I decided to come back.” You explained, glancing at the new faces in the room. “Uh– what’s all this?”

The actress sends you a sheepish smile, “Family game night, we watch the game every Friday and cook some barbeque, it’s a whole thing. I forgot to text you, I’m sorry. You can call your driver back if this is too much.”

You laugh, squeezing her shoulder. “And miss out on great food? No, thank you.”

Jenna scans your eyes for the truth, “Are you sure? I know this isn’t exactly your scene so I understand.”

“Jen.” Your hand slides down, softly grabbing her hand. “I can’t even remember how long it’s been since the last time I had a home-cooked meal. I’m so in.”

You squeeze her hand for good measure. “Guys close the door.” Someone shouts.

Jenna doesn’t let you drop your hands this time because she’s already gripping them, pulling you to sit with her cousins – introducing you.

She ignores the giddy feeling in her chest that you want to stay.

You don’t say anything even when you’re both sitting and she’s still holding your hand.

–

“Who are you performing with?” Jenna tugs on your arm.

You squint to see her through your sunglasses. The Californian sun was making its presence known today and there are crowds of people everywhere as you tried to find some shade. It’s just past 6 PM and people are already starting to get rowdy – before all the good sets are even on.

Fish nets, sparkles and bedazzles are all you see in the sea of people and you just know you’re at Coachella.

“I can’t say…” You fight the smile on your face, finding her begging adorable. “It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

“But Aliyah knows! I heard you whisper it to her.” She glares back at her sister standing a fair distance away from you two – who was talking to Mia and her boyfriend.

“I didn’t tell her anything, Jen. We were just fucking with you.” You laugh, sliding your hand in hers.

An unspoken comfortableness has formed between you two. Light touches are a new development in this… situation Jenna had with you.

Whether it was knees touching under the dinner table, walking shoulder to shoulder on your daily walks around the neighbourhood (there wasn’t much to do as Coachella weekend approached) or leaning her head on your shoulder as she slept when you two watched TV before bed.

And now, it seems like things have escalated to a new level of comfort where you two willingly linked fingers whenever you walked anywhere. Neither of you make a peep when someone eventually reaches for the other’s hand.

“Rude…” She pinches your side making you flinch away from her.

Jenna’s immediately tugging you back closer.

“Hey… I can’t get an injury before my performance. I’m legally binded to a contract.” You state.

Jenna snorts, “I thought you were friends with the performer? Are you really not gonna tell me who it is?”

“Nope and sure we’re friends but, I’m still contractually obligated to the festival and all that.”

“Come on Y/N!” She groaned unconsciously stepping closer to you. “I’ve been so nice to you, I haven’t called you an idiot all day!”

You laugh, “Is that supposed to win me over?”

“You tell me? Is it working?” The laugh dies in your lips when she tits her head in question.

Jenna misses the gulp you take because she was leaning closer, trying to find your eyes behind the dark-tinted glasses you had on.

“No…” You replied with a vacant tone.

Jenna steps back when the sun blinds her eye. “You’re no fun.”

“I don’t know what to tell you… you’re gonna have to wait like everyone else.”

“Speaking of everyone else, I’m surprised we’re not surrounded by your groupies.” Jenna eyes the group of people hovering not too far away.

You snicker, “They are not my groupies. I barely know those people but it happens at every music event. They flock over like geese. I let Link handle them.”

Jenna frowns, “Doesn’t it bother you?”

“What?” You look down.

“That you can’t even enjoy yourself at a festival without someone hovering over your shoulder.”

Since Jenna’s started this PR relationship with you her fame’s only increased overnight. She hates to say it but Sarah was right, being associated with you has only made her more famous and well-known. She felt like a Kardashian or Tom Holland who couldn’t even step out of their own homes without a camera being shoved in their faces.

It’s getting so bad that Jenna has security with her everywhere she goes. She stopped driving herself to places. A headline even dropped that you two are official and serious now and that you have met her family; paparazzi tried to camp at her parent’s house until they called the police.

“Sometimes.” You answer honestly, shrugging. “But it’s part of the job.”

Jenna’s frown deepens, looking around. “This is not part of the job. At least not what I’ve seen.”

“Yeah, but we learn to deal with it, right?” You nudge her shoulder. Seemingly unbothered that made Jenna bothered for you.

“How?” Jenna couldn’t help her curiosity.

“Surround yourself with people that genuinely care about you. That still picks you even after all your fuck ups. Only got me about three of those, so I try to keep them close.” Then you let out a sad laugh, “I make it very hard for them sometimes, though.”

Jenna looks at Link as he holds a bored hand up when a girl tries to walk up to you. Then he’s shooing her away and whispering to both of your security guards.

She wants to fight the urge to say that you have a fourth person in your corner with her.

Instead, she says:

“I think you got a good one with him.” She nods to Link.

You follow her sight, “Yeah, I do... He’s usually right about most things too.”

“What do you mean?” She looks up in questioning.

Maybe Jenna’s not so bad? Flashes in your memory but you don’t tell Jenna. “Nothing.”

Jenna squints her eyes. “Fine… keep your secrets.” Tone a playfully bitter.

Eventually, you, Jenna and her sisters walk around aimlessly from set to set, taking pictures and enjoying the atmosphere. Jenna would be lying if she said she wasn’t enjoying herself right now. Somehow you all managed to find an empty corner by the Artist section of the performances which meant you had loosened up a bit.

Jenna decided she liked it when you’re smiling, carefree and happy.

It suits you better than your permanent scowl.

You’ve been so stressed this last week, taking phone calls and Zoom meetings. She tried not to express her concern at seeing how you obsessively fretted over some project, consuming you some nights.

Jenna knows obsessive. She knows anxiety. This was different.

She finds herself with more questions than answers when it comes to you.

Why are you so closed off all the time? Is this how you work all the time? Where did this recent streak of bad behaviour start? Is there more to it than what you’re saying?

Are you okay?

But Jenna can’t find the right words to ask, so she doesn’t.

Only offering her warm pressure on top of you to hopefully lull you to sleep when you both drift off in her childhood bed.

Somewhere along the evening, she finds herself close to you.

You've loosened up as the days progressed and somehow, you and Jenna have found yourselves wrapped up in each other's arms as you danced.

Jenna had her back pressed firmly against your chest; her head tucked under your chin as your arms wrap around her waist from behind; hands linked as you jammed along to the music.

“The Met Gala’s coming up.” Jenna speaks up after a few moments of silence. “I’m invited.”

“Me too.” You reveal. She perks up, looking back at you.

“Yeah?” She smiles, pleased with your answer.

“Mhmm. I’m actually a co-chair this year.” You send an embarrassed smile.

She turns in your hold, jaw-dropping. “You are?”

“Yeah… why do you think I’ve been taking those calls all week? I was getting ready for the Met.”

“I thought that was for Coachella?” She snorts but can't help but ask, "Do you ever stop working?"

“Says you. Miss Scream Queen.” You tease making her roll her eyes.

“Be my date.” She says all of a sudden. “and walk the carpet with me this time.”

You raise your brows at her bluntness. This time?

You remember the last time she said those words and a tiny part of you prayed she meant it differently this time. But you can't fight your smile because you couldn't even say no if you wanted to — overwhelmed with the sudden want, to show off the girl in your arms. “I would love to be your date.”

Jenna's eyes sparkled with delight, beaming at you widely.

"Great! I'll talk to Enrique and Thom Browne about it."

"But I'm a Prada Ambassador?"

"I'll handle it." She nods with finality.

But before you can say anything, Link slides in with a whisper in your ear and a knowing smirk in Jenna’s direction.

“Hey, I have to go.” You whisper into her ear, pulling away but Jenna tightens her grip.

“Wait.” She steps forward – much closer than she means to.

“Yeah?” You asked softly and suddenly Jenna can’t hear the loud thumping of the bass anymore.

“Good luck and break a leg.” She says in a whisper.

Her hand reaches up to brush your neck still looking into your eyes. Jenna feels the same overwhelming pressure in her chest that she’s recently felt around you and gives into her sudden impulse; leaning in, parting her lips; meaning for them to connect to your cheek but instead swerve and slot in between your lips instead, in a moment’s haste.

She feels you tense for a moment before giving in, cupping her cheeks too. Kissing her back. Jenna loses it a bit, not expecting your lips to feel so soft and smooth and perfect against hers. Jenna can't help but tilt her head to the side, allowing your lips to press harder.

She feels the same electricity from your first meeting – when you shook her hand. The same electricity she tries to fight off every time she's near you. Except this time, it's by tenfold.

Jenna is so lost in you that she can’t even hear her heart beating loudly in her ears anymore — only feeling your thumb softly stroking her jaw.

The sound of coughing breaks you two apart.

“Sorry but Y/N we need to go.” Link sends a sheepish smile but he's trying to fight his grin at having a front-row seat to the show.

When Jenna pulls away she looks deeply into your eyes searching for some kind of indication of your feelings.

You smile shyly, squeezing her waist and rubbing her back. “I’ll find you after the show?”

“Yeah…” Jenna whispers, still staring into your eyes.

“I’ll find you!” You yell over her shoulder as Link drags you away.

“Holy shit, finally!” Mia slides in beside her.

Jenna doesn’t have the energy to shrug off the arm Aliyah throws over her shoulder as she brings her fingers up to her burning lips. “I don't know why I did that...”

“Oh my god, you’re an idiot. The both of you.” Mia rolls her eyes walking back to her boyfriend.

Jenna looks around, blinking, immediately catching the phones held in the air capturing her moment with you.

She walks off, following her sisters.

Unbeknownst to you and Jenna, a headline is about to drop:

New developments in Y/N L/N's Vegas case. Caught with cocaine! Las Vegas PD makes no official comments on possible charges or arrests. But is this the end for the bright star?

The strip club and vaccine bit with Colin and Che is from a real line in one of their segments LOL.

yall happy now?

@alexkolax @ladey @jjsmaybank20 @werewoofrobinbuckley @chealsib @fanboy7794 @la-douleur-ne-finit-jamais @zelload @natashadeservedmoree @orang3-ish @friedryes @canyonyodeler @nahnahnahwhatt @be-missed @jjuncidio @fearstreetsoloyouandurmom @oksana-moods @theirishmanronan @r-ude @wokethefuxkup @bandaidss @skate-to-breathee @user173781 @frasersgf @natblidaclexa @justafoolinlove @bring-mecoffee @slu7her @haughtsauce21 @wheesunsangel @cyberexpertalienspy-blog @jennaortegasfootrest @zaza11sblog @omega-horus @heroofdeath11 @selluequestrian @justalittledissociation @imaloserbby @catswag22 @sorexhera @smjmgko @acutenobody @raven-ss @canceldevvi @sweetaimu @rockwyn @rwndsana @cheesybacon1 @cvluswnt @secretbackrooms @vixen1006 @zhasmindoesntknow @namesduntmatter @ulicebld @rozmrazaradelfinow @icarly23 @cartierdreamx @thenextdawn @annalestern

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega imagine #wednesday netflix

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fic-over-cannon · 4 months

Text

The Ghost of You

jason todd x f!reader

summary: you’re in love with jason todd but he doesn’t know you can see ghosts. he finds out.

tags: fluff, off screen sex, angst, supernatural elements

rated mature | wc: 4.2k

a/n: finally got around to writing up the fic idea I sent in this ask. there will be a happy ending (eventually) so please bear with me

It’s cold in the apartment. The curtains are blowing in the empty breeze, window open from when it was wrenched wide. I should close that, you think numbly to yourself, but you’re not really sure that your legs will hold you long enough to cross the room. There’s pins and needles racing through your calves, spreading up to your thighs but you don’t have it in yourself to care. Jason’s gone, maybe never coming back.

On the day you met Jason, his grin was bright like the sun. You’d met at the local library when you dropped your stack of books heading to the return desk. Scrabbling to pick up your books and get out of the way, you’d bumped hands with someone. Looked up to meet his eyes and seen the sun. Jason had helped you gather up the fallen books, accidentally knocking his knuckles into yours the whole time. He’d picked up The Scarlet Pimpernel from the scattered pile and started an enthusiastic conversation about it. By the time you’d left the library, you’d gotten his number in your phone and a new book under your arm.

You’d been so distracted by your conversation that you’d forgotten to stop by and say hello to Ms. Einarsdottir in the romance novel section. Given that she’s been dead for 38 years, she probably won’t mind you missing your weekly greeting, but it’s the principle of the thing. You end up going back to the library the next day to make your apologies but the old ghost is so excited to hear about your meet cute that the two of you end up discussing it for almost an hour. The lovely woman even helps you write your first text to Jason, hovering over your shoulder and gently trying to dictate to you.

You had first seen Ms. Einarsdottir when you were six years old and looking for your mother after losing her in all the tall bookshelves. Despite it being a summer’s day this particular section of the library had been cool, a lure for any overheated child. Rounding a shelf, an older woman with her thick white hair in a braid and half-moon spectacles perched on her nose had been reading a book with a bright cover.

Tilting your head to make out the title better, you had asked, “Whatcha readin’?”

The poor woman had startled, badly, then scolded you for being in a section for grown ups. She’d relaxed when you’d asked if she’d seen your mother, placed her book down on the little reading table and engaged you in a conversation all about yourself. Your mother had found you there nearly 20 minutes later, sitting cross legged in front of an empty chair and discussing your new favourite hair bows in an excited whisper. Your mother had squeezed your hand tightly as she walked you out of the library, so engrossed in scolding you that she didn’t notice you wave over your shoulder to the incorporeal woman.

That had been your first meeting with Ms. Einarsdottir, though certainly not the last. She’d become a grandmother figure to you over the years, and nearly every week you were in Gotham you had made a point of going in to see her. She had been your first ghost.

You can see ghosts. You’ve been able to ever since Ms. Einarsdottir, and for you they’re as real as any living person. There’s no great trauma or origin story for this ability. One day you had just woken up, walked into the Gotham Public Library, and started seeing ghosts. You don’t tell anyone, really. There’s enough flavours of weird in Gotham that people would probably believe you, but it would feel strange to go around announcing this ability. As a child you were scared you’d be bullied for it, still were for seemingly talking to yourself until you’d gotten better at disguising whispers. As an adult, you’re not sure how much good it would do to say anything. You can’t summon the dead to help those grieving a loss, and most of the time the ghosts you meet simply need to be reminded they’re dead in order to move in. Most people wouldn’t want others digging into their business while they’re alive, why would they feel differently when they’re dead?

So for the most part you live an ordinary life. You wake up and go to work at the hospital. You go out to dinners with friends and on disappointing dates. Maybe sometimes in between you remind an old man that no one else can see that he’s no longer living, or give directions to a little boy that everyone else just walks right through. Occasionally the Gotham Police might get an anonymous tip on a years old murder. It’s your normal.

Your new normal with Jason is so, so good. You fit together in places you didn’t even realize were missing. The first date quickly turns into five, laughter bright and constant. Jason volunteers on the weekends, then comes to pick you up from your shifts with your favourite sandwich from the deli near Crime Alley. He brings flowers to every date and his hands tremble the first time he unzips your little black dress. He’s downright adorable when you kiss him on the cheek after offering to drop you off for brunch with your friends. Your friends giggle over him as he pulls away from the curb, demanding details. It’s easy loving him and being loved by him.

You move into his apartment, too quickly according to his little brothers. Dinners out with friends turn into entertaining at home, and taking it in turns bringing dishes that fill the apartment with mouthwatering smells. Nights out at the movies ending with heated discussions about how “the physics of explosives don’t work like that” curled up on the couch. Jokes from Dick about domesticating Jason, as the man himself childishly sticks his tongue out behind his brother’s back. Agreeing to be a plus one at a gala only if there will be french fries after. Hiding smiles behind glasses of champagne as you watch him try to navigate the crush of flirtatious socialites. You love him so much, and if the completely unsubtle questions about your taste in jewellery are anything to go by, you’ll get to love him forever.

Jason doesn’t so much tell you he’s the Red Hood as dump the evidence in your lap by accident. You’re home early (or late as it is), having been bumped to an earlier return flight from a girl’s trip after your best friend got dumped over text. You weren’t supposed to be back for another 16 hours, a fact that Jason clearly was counting on. Juggling your purse and your suitcase, you’re not paying attention as you walk through the door, trying to put your keys away. There’s voices in the living room that go dead silent as you turn the corner. Looking up to see who’s visiting, you freeze.

Dick’s sitting on your couch, a bag of frozen peas held against the bruise blooming on his cheekbone. He’s wearing Nightwing’s suit and the blue domino is on the coffee table, pushed out to make room for all of the people currently invading your living room. There’s Stephanie right next to him, frozen mid-bite, pizza almost falling out of her black-and purple gloves. Tim’s on the floor, leaning against Steph’s legs, looking more exhausted than usual and horrified. Lastly, there’s Jason. Sitting in the far corner of the couch, feet in Dick’s lap, with the Red Hood’s damaged helmet cradled in his lap. You stare at each other, and you can feel your jaw physically drop. The cheese on Steph’s pizza slips right off, landing in her lap with a wet sound breaking the moment.

“I can walk right back out and come in again?” You offer up weakly.

It breaks the hold of silence on the room, suddenly everyone talking at once. Except for Jason. He stares at you and you can’t look away, the clamour of voices fading away under the strength of your gaze. He swallows, hard.

“Stay, please? I can explain.” And he does.

It takes hours, and you steal slices of cold pizza for yourself. Tim and Steph are fast asleep on each other by the end and Dick’s had to switch out the melted peas for an ice pack you’ve fished out the back of the freezer. Jason’s scared, you can tell. Keeps starting and stopping, lets Dick take over the threads of the story, fidgets with the hem of his jacket and keeps turning the helmet over in his hands.

“—so that’s everything. Uh, I’m the Red Hood.”

“Okay.”

“That’s it? Just ‘okay’?” He repeats in disbelief.

“Yup. I’m probably going to have a thousand questions for you once I’m not exhausted from traveling all day, but okay. You’re the Red Hood. Which, actually explains a lot of things, if I’m being honest. But,” and you clap your hands together, “that’s going to wait because I’m pretty sure we’re all going to pass out any minute. Dick, you’re welcome to the couch if you can help Jason move those two,” and you point at the sleepers, “over to the guest bedroom.”

Guests taken care of, you push up off the floor, grab your bags, and head to the bedroom. You drop your bags just inside the door, a task for future you to deal with. Stumbling over tired feet, you manage to wash your face and change into pyjamas before falling into bed. Jason comes in, stands in the doorway hand on the knob, like he can’t bring himself to get any closer. You flop your arm out and pat his empty side of the bed.

“S’cold. You coming to bed soon?”

It takes another breath before he starts to move, a silhouette in the light from the hall. He shuffles around, the sounds comforting in their familiarity. The mattress dips under his weight, but he doesn’t curve to the shape of you like he usually does, stiff as a board instead. Huffing out a breath, you wrap an arm around his torso and pull at him until he’s arranged around you the way you like.

“I love you, y’know. You running around in a onesie getting shot at doesn’t change that.” You mumble into the side of his neck.

He says something in reply, but you’re already drifting off to sleep. As far as you’re concerned, anything else can wait. And it does. The next morning you ask as many questions as you can think of as Jason makes a late breakfast for the both of you. You unpack your bags, and he’s still answering questions as you throw in your travel laundry. You can’t hold keeping a secret against him, not when there’s still your own small part of you that you haven’t shared yet.

His revelation does answer the questions you’d been holding onto about late night disappearances, mysterious bruises, and secretive looks over your head with his family. It puts some of the ghosts you’ve seen hanging around into context, tragedies crystallizing in your mind. It brings you closer, even if he’s not willing to share some of the more horrific details of his cases with you. He asks you, once, how you feel about dating the Red Hood. You laugh and call him silly. You’re not dating the Red Hood, you’re in love with Jason Todd. His slow look of quiet wonder is possibly the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, you tell Ms. Einarsdottir (you elect not to tell her about how he’d laid you out in your bed after and eaten you out for hours after, your thighs trembling around his ears).

Together, you piece together a new normal. Jason texts to let you know he’s going on patrol and if he’ll be back before morning. You insist that he lets you know about all of his injuries, even if it’s just a scratch. He stops hiding his work from you, brings home files and folders (without pictures) to spread out on the coffee table and pull out his hair over. He’ll ask you for your input sometimes, a medical perspective on how Scarecrow’s newest fear toxin works biologically or if there’s a pattern between post-mortem reports. It’s not the life you envisioned for yourself, but you love it nonetheless because of who you are building it with.

The thought crosses your mind, occasionally, that you could help more. That instead of calling in anonymous tips on pay phones to the GPD, you could just talk to Jason. But no ghost has told you anything for weeks, or at least nothing related to their deaths and so the urgency to tell him passes. You grow complacent in this new life.

A few months later, and you’re running out of the hospital on your break to try and buy a cup of coffee from the stand in the courtyard. It’s the only place marginally on hospital grounds with half-way decent beans and you need that extra hit of caffeine to get through the last three hours of your shift. In your rush, you almost run through a young boy, managing to stop yourself just in time. He doesn’t seem to notice you at all, staring off at the small slit of the basement window.

“Hello?” You ask, tentative.

He turns, slowly, like he can’t quite be sure that someone’s talking to him. He’s painfully young, scrawny in a way that implies older than he looks but chronically underfed. It’s his eyes that get to you, large enough to swallow up his whole face and blearily lost.

“D’you know the way home, miss?” It’s a whisper on the breeze, barely a sound at all. Something catches his attention then, steals his focus away to an unseen threat that causes his incorporeal body to lock up in fear. He opens his mouth to speak, but no sound comes out.

“Honey, I know you’re probably really scared and confused, but I can see you, okay? Now you might not know this yet, but you’re a ghost now.” There’s horror in the little boy’s eyes, and it’s growing fast. It’s not directed at you, but somewhere behind you. You turn, trying to see over your shoulder, but there’s nothing there but sunshine.

“Listen to me, you’ve died and what is happening right now is you’re caught in a loop of your own death. You just need to realize you’re dead to snap out of it.” It happens sometimes, ghosts caught in the rip curl of their deaths, repeating echoes of it in their disbelief at dying. You reach out, desperately wishing you could hug this child because terror is swallowing him whole. He turns, desperate, and starts running, mouth moving in unheard screams. He runs into an invisible obstacle, scrambling on his hands and knees, and then winks out of existence.

The sunny day is suddenly cold. You look around, but everyone else in the courtyard is unbothered by the sights they did not see. On autopilot, you make it through the line, adding your change to the tip jar and burning the palms of your hands on the hot paper cup. The coffee’s tasteless, only notable for the way it burns down your throat but it gets you through the last of your shift. You can’t erase the image of the boy’s face, young and deathly afraid. It haunts you; you couldn’t forget his face if you’d tried and you’re not sure you should.

Over the next few weeks, a case takes hold of Jason. It possesses him and drives him out of your bed to pour over files he won’t let you see in the dead of night. He won’t speak of it, red-rimmed eyes and stony faced. He can’t sleep over it, mumbles something about not being able to get the images to leave him alone. You push the issue only once, over a shared lunch you had to badger him to take a break for. It goes badly, Jason freezing you out. He apologizes later, for ruining the lunch you’d gone to the effort to make and for hurting you. The two of you have agreed to never go to bed angry with each other, and you never do. It hurts to see him like this. You keep showing support in whatever small gestures he’ll accept, hoping that eventually he’ll open up.

He does. Shoves the files away from him on the coffee table and leans into you where you’re curled up on the couch reading. You wrap your arms around him, fingers curling into his hair as he breaks down.

“I know you know there’s a case. Couple’a weeks ago a kid’s body turned up in the harbour, died on the way to the hospital. He wasn’t the first to be found, but this kid, he would’ve died in so much pain. And it’s tearing me to fucking pieces because every single lead has turned up short.” He has to pause before he can go on, breath thick with emotions. “I care about getting justice for every last one of those kids, but this one, this kid was personal.” You’re pretty sure that there’s hot tears burning a patch on your shoulder, but you say nothing, just keep stroking his hair.

“His name— his name was Matty. You know that community centre I volunteer at on weekends? That’s where I met him. God, he was such a bright kid. Had his whole future planned out, was gonna get out of Crime Alley and become a pianist. Just, he was so young and so full of hope and now none of those dreams are gonna come true.”

It’s evident in the way his voice cracks and his body shakes that he’s taken it so personally that someone so young and under his protection has been snuffed out. Something about this dead boy reminds Jason a little too much of himself. Maybe because they died at the same age, or he was once that scrawny and featherlight too. The police have no leads, chalking it up to just another Crime Alley street kid meeting an inevitable end. He’s got none either, all the evidence drying up and trails gone cold.

Jason tells you more about Matty, how he hated playing sports but was really good at soccer. How he’d been introduced to music in school and found what felt like his purpose in life. How Matty’s parents had worked and saved up to afford lessons for him, sending him down to the community centre to practice on the available piano. The first time Jason had met him, he’d been trying out to play in the orchestra for the musical the community centre was trying to put together and Jason had been helping to run it.

Jason pulls out his phone, swipes with clumsy fingers to find a video from one of Matty’s impromptu concerts at the community centre. The music is a little tinny front the beat up speakers of Jason’s phone, but it’s beautiful. The video’s shot with a shaky hand, and it takes a few seconds for you to really register Matty’s face. When you finally do, your heart plummets and your fingers involuntarily tighten around Jason.

“I know him. I saw him, just the other day.” It comes out before you can stop it, tongue and lips moving before you can stop yourself. The worst part is, it’s true. The Matty in the video is smiling, hamming it up for his audience, but those are the same wide eyes you saw swimming with terror at the hospital. The same bird-like bones and long fingers that had scrabbled at the ground before disappearing. You know this boy’s ghost.

Jason’s looking at you like you’re speaking in a language he’s never even heard of. “If this is a joke, it isn’t funny.”

“Wait, wait. It’s not a joke. Jason, I wouldn’t— I’d never joke about this.” You sit up and draw back, need to see his face, need to let him know exactly how truthful you’re being. “I saw him, the other day, at the hospital.” Jason tries to interrupt you, but you don’t let him speak. “I saw him because he’s a ghost and I can see ghosts and speak to them and I recognized Matty in that video because I saw him the other day and he looked so scared Jay.” You reach out to Jason, not really sure of what you’re looking for, but he pulls back.

“Okay, so maybe this isn’t a joke but I think you need to go get your head checked out if you’re seeing things that aren’t there.” His voice is uncharacteristically thin, like he’s trying to convince himself that this is just a psychological problem and not reality. You’re frustrated and desperate now, needing him to believe in you more than ever because this might actually be the thing to break you if he can’t believe.

“Jay I’m not crazy, or impaired, or suffering any head trauma. Okay? This is real. I’ve been seeing them since I was a kid and I’m telling you I saw Matty the other day. The first time we met, I was heading to the library because there’s a ghost haunting the romance section that I like to visit once in a while. I’ve been calling in tips to the GPD about abandoned bodies for years for the ghosts that can’t do it themselves. With all of the things that go on in Gotham, do you really think that something like this is impossible?”

“Okay, so you can see ghosts. What, do we need to get a Ouija board in here and Matty’ll just tell us what happened?” The words say that he believes you, but his tone screams uncertainty. It’s a start though, even if it’s a misguided one.

“No— ugh, it doesn’t work like that. Ghosts, they get tied to places, people. I can’t call them, I have to go to them.”

“What do you mean, tied to people?” He asks, eyes narrowed and voice tight.

“Like they get attached to a person, maybe someone they have unfinished business with, or maybe that they really cared for. You know, when you told me you were the Red Hood, and I told you that made a lot of things make sense? This was one of them.” And that, that was the absolute worst way you could have tried to explain it.

He jerks back and there is such a look of horror and fear in his eyes. Not of you, never of you and your abilities, but for what and who he fears you might see clinging to him. The choking sensation of grave dirt. The faces of the people he’s killed to make Gotham safer. The enemies he’s made and buried, and the people he was too late to save. Literally the blood on his hands in a twisted parody of Lady Macbeth. He is terrified that you can see the monster he has always feared himself to be. That all of his sins are arrayed around him, inescapable and unforgivable.

“I don’t— I can’t. What— what do you see?” He whispers, almost inaudible. You open your mouth to answer, but the fear of what you might say is too consuming.

Jason is up and running, prying open the window on the fire escape and escaping out into the winter’s night. You can’t do much more than reach after him, sliding off the couch and landing hard on to legs that don’t work.

You don’t get the chance to tell him that all you see is a 15-year old with a gap toothed, blinding grin wearing the Robin colours with pride. You don’t get to tell him that that 15-year old boy always tells you when Jason comes back hiding an injury or asks you to make sure he’s eating more than cigarettes. You don’t get to tell him that even from beyond the grave, Jason Todd never stopped saving people.

“Go, go after him. He needs you more than I do right now.” You whisper.

The ghost of Jason Todd gives you one more desperate look, before running out into the cold after his older self. Now, now you’re truly alone. That’s the thought that shatters you, rips sobs from where you curl in to your gut. Tears burn then grow cold on your face. You lose track of time, sitting there in a heap on the floor.

The wailing of a distant siren finally jolts you from your stupor, enough to start trying to stand. Using the couch, you pull yourself up, stumbling and tripping from the numb tingling in your legs. It’s cold out tonight, the first few flakes of snow starting to drift down. You wrestle with the window, curtains whipping into your face and arms. This window has always been difficult usually it’s Jason’s job but you manage to force it down. Leaving the glass to clean up tomorrow, you stagger off to the bedroom, the hole where your heart was aching. The window stays unlocked though, that night and every other night after. Just in case.

#jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd fic #jason todd imagine #jason todd headcanon #red hood x you #red hood x reader #sunnie writes 🌻#jason todd

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vecnuthy · 10 months

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whatcha readin?

Tagged by @judasofsuburbia This is suchhh a cool idea! This list doesn't even scratch the surface, but basically all of these JUST updated, so I'm in Kermit on a typewriter mode. They're all smutty with I think one exception, so. That's your warning. And they're all Steddie. Mind the tags as always!

Money, Power, Glory by @strangerthings1975 just wrapped and I'm an emotional WRECK because this story is fucking insanely good. Mutual pining, angst with a happy ending, communication is king, sooo much fluff even with the heavy themes. The summary from ao3: Steve starts paying Eddie for sex once he discovers that Eddie doesn't just deal drugs and perform at the Hideout. Strap tf in, heed the tags, bask in its magnificence. This fic is always on my mind, no exaggeration.

is your light on? by @toburnup I love how Vio weaves nuance and simplicity and still manages to have it all land like a ton of bricks. The slowest of burns, have aloe on hand!! Happy ending is guaranteed too thank god because I want to shake the shit out of these two sometimes. This story steamrolls my soul and lives rent free in my brain, and I'm so excited to read the chapter that just posted. I'm screaming!!

Tell Me "Don't" So I Can Crawl Back In They are disasters! They are everything! Steve ditches the old friends and decides to get friendly with Eddie. Steve surprises tf out of Eddie (and me) in this one, and it's a lottt of fun to read.

I can't tune you out by @hairstevington famous musicians Steddie, fake dating/enemies to lovers, slow burn, and Buckingham? Absolutely. Read it.

Tentative by @eddywoww Sapphic Steddie with Stevie in a ln all-girls pop group with Eddie as their assistant. Y'aaallll. Shenanigans. Delicious, thirsty shenanigans. I'm literally signed up for anything that Lee does. I Made Loving You a Bloodsport, Uneducated Guesses, everythinggggg.

Blood and Water by @aidaronan sapphic witches Steddie that has me so hyped to see what all is going to happen. I live for the vibes/aesthetic, and it's already so dark and juicy!

as good a place to fall as any by @rewritingicarus photographer Eddie and amateur model Steve. Oh. My god. I fucking love this story. It's so steamy, and come ON. The title coming from Bedroom Hymns by Florence + the Machine? I jumped on it as soon as I saw the title and I haven't looked back since. I crave the updates!

What about you? No pressure, of course! @steddiealltheway @flowercrowngods @grimmfitzz @henderdads @hairmetal666 @stevebabey @emryses @wormdebut @asbealthgn @steves-strapcollection @onirislanding and anybody else who'd like to participate ✨️

#fic recs #there are seriously so many that I'm following y'all #idk how my brain keeps up tbh #but you guys absolutely CRUSH these fics. I'm in awe.#steddie fics #i could do like five more of these too #ya girl's spread thinner than vegemite on toast but i fucking love it

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nyxlaufeyson · 1 year

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request: post-thor 1 loki x childhood best friend!reader? im not sure where im going with this but maybe both of them being touch-starved but physically comfortable with each other ('platonic' hand-holding, forehead/cheek kisses, etc) and maybe like a flffy confession at the end? i love your writing 💚💚

Oneshot Masterlist - Main Masterlist

POV: Second

Ship: Loki x Gender-Neutral Reader

Type: Fluff, Some angst (With a happy ending)

Wordcount: 1,378

TW: None

Synopsis: The story of how you and Loki met, followed by the present, where you find yourself battling your feelings for the god of mischief.

A/N: Thank you so much for the idea! I hope you like how I interpreted it, I tried my best! Also, this doesn't really use any gender-specific pronouns, so it's fine to be read as gender neutral :) For the fics where I can without disturbing the fic, I will be going back and hopefully editing some of the pronouns to be more general (some of them I'd like to keep feminine though. All my GN fics will be tagged as GN to prevent any dysphoria. I love all of you guys!)

To leave a request, feel free to comment anywhere or inbox me

~~~~~

It all started on your first day of school, when you were fairly young. Your parents were high-ranking nobles, so you had been enrolled in one of the high-ranking schools along with the other kids of prominent families, including the two princes of Asgard.

The classes were fairly easy, and soon enough the teacher dismissed class for a break to eat, leading the children outside. Most of the kids already had friends, and so they ran to sit with them.

You looked for a place to sit, eyes falling to a boy sitting alone underneath a tree, reading. You made your way over to him, happy to find a spot that wasn't so overcrowded, not to mention the comforting shade of the tree.

The boy swiftly glanced up from his book to meet your gaze as you sat down next to him. When he didn't say anything, you decided to talk first. "Hi, I'm Y/n. What's your name?"

The boy hesitated for a moment before answering. "Loki." You raised your eyebrows, surprised. "As in Prince Loki?" You asked, and he nodded with a sheepish smile.

You smiled as you opened your small satchel your mother had packed, pulling out some food. "Do you have anything to eat?" You asked him, noticing that he didn't have a bag or food.

"No. I forgot to grab it." He admitted, and you tore your sandwich in half, handing half of it over to him. "Here." You offered, and he shook his head. "It's really fine-" He started, but you shoved the sandwich in his hands.

"Take it." You insisted, and he finally accepted the sandwich that you had forced on him. "Thank you." He said, and you nodded, biting into your own sandwich.

From that point forward, you two became best friends. School flew by, and before you knew it, both of you had graduated.

Since your parents were of the court, you still were around the castle a lot, so you still saw Loki.

You two were each other's everything. You helped him pull pranks on Thor, which often got the both of you in trouble. You comforted him through his dark times, particularly when he found out he was a frost giant.

When he had fallen off the bridge all those years ago, you became an emotional and physical wreck. The worst part was, you hadn't even known what exactly had happened, just that he had fallen.

Nobody had known if Loki was dead, some said he was, others said he wasn't. You had refused to believe he was dead, and came out as far as you could on the broken bridge and prayed to Valhalla he was alive. Every. Single. Night.

Eventually Heimdal had found him, and you were reunited. He explained everything to you that night he got back: how he had found out he was a frost giant, how he had realized that he was a political pawn.

He had seen himself a monster, yet you refused to let him believe that. You managed to help him put himself together again, piece by piece, hug by hug.

Now you found yourself leaning into Loki as you both sat reading, cursing yourself for the feelings you couldn't seem to shake off.

The past few months, you had developed feelings for the god of mischief. You supposed they were always there, but lately they seemed to be more prominent.

You sighed, sliding a bookmark into your book and closing it, causing Loki to look up from his own. "Everything alright dear?" He asked, and you nodded.

"Just having trouble focusing on my book right now. You know how my mind can be a bit restless sometimes." You said, and he smiled, kissing your forehead.

You blushed, even though you were used to the platonic gestures you would give each other. However, with your feelings quickly growing out of the friendzone, they seemed to have more of an effect on you.

It was funny, the physical communication between you and Loki. Before befriending him, you weren't fond of physical contact. But with Loki, it felt right. It felt like home.

Loki also used to hate people so much as touching him, he still did, but when it was with you he loved it. He lived for your embrace, no matter the gesture.

"How about we go look at the stars from the garden?" Loki suggested, and you smiled with a nod, letting Loki help you up off of the couch.

You and Loki walked through the walls, hand in hand, making your way to the royal garden.

The stars shone brightly in the night sky, accompanied by an iridescent moon. A gentle breeze blew through the garden, tickling your ears.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Loki breathed, looking at the sky. "Yeah, it is." You replied, reaching your finger out and tracing some of the constellations.

"How many stars do you think there are?" He asked you, looking back towards you. You shrugged, glancing at the sky. "I don't know, there's billions! It's useless to count."

He chuckled, shrugging. "I wouldn't call it useless, darling." You raised an eyebrow at him, gesturing up at the sky.

"Loki, look how many there are! Plus, what use is knowing the number of stars going to be?" You challenged, and he just smiled at you.

His smile was enough to take your breath away, but you told yourself to chill out. You weren't going to lose one of your only friends to a silly crush.

"It's also useless to count freckles, but I know you have 12 of them on your left forearm." Loki said, and your heart rate sped up as your mind processed what he had just said.

Your heart was screaming, but your brain was able to regain partial composure. You laughed it off, playfully slapping Loki. "Nice line, silvertongue."

His expression turned soft, yet serious, as he grabbed your left arm gently. "No, seriously. Count."

You turned your left forearm around, carefully counting each freckle. After you finished, you recounted, your face heating up.

There were exactly 12 freckles. No more, no less.

"Oh." You said, unsure of what to say. "Oh?" Loki raised his eyebrow, taking your hands in his.

Loki and you stood there for a minute, gazing into eachothers' eyes, until Loki finally broke the silence.

"I love you."

"What?" You said, nervously darting your eyes away. You figured he was just saying it platonically. You'd said it before, hadn't you? But it was different now.

"Uh- I love you too Loki. You know that." You recovered, trying to hide the bubble of emotions inside of you.

"No. Not like that." He said, shaking his head. "No?" You asked, rubbing your neck subconsciously.

"No. This is different, Y/n. I love you. I love you in ways that go beyond our friendship. You bring me more joy than the stars ever could." He confessed, and your eyes began to water. "I'm sorry if this ruins our friendship, but I can't hide it anymore Y/n. I love you."

You stood there, demobilized in shock. Loki shook his head. "I should go..." He mumbled, but you finally regained movement and grabbed his wrist. "I love you too."

His eyes met yours once more, widening. "Really?" He asked, making sure he had heard you right.

You nodded, reaching up on your tippy toes and quickly placing a kiss on his lips. You had kissed him on the forehead and cheek before, but this was different, yet it still felt so right.

Loki blushed, and you relished in the fact that you had the ability to make a prince, not to mention a god, blush.

"Well then..." You trailed off, tucking your hair behind your ear. Loki's eyes lit up, indicating he had thought of an idea. "How about I go grab us some blankets and we sleep in the observatory tonight, that way we can fall asleep under the stars?"

You grinned, nodding at the idea. "That sounds great. Meet you there?" He nodded, and with another quick kiss on the lips, he ran off to get the blankets, and you walked down the hallway, thinking of how lucky you were to love, and be loved, by Loki.

~~~~~

I hope you enjoyed! Tell me: can you find the small Easter egg I hid in here?

Tag List (Comment or inbox me to be added/removed): @anukulee

#loki #loki request #loki fanfic #fanfic #loki fluff #loki friggason #marvel #i love loki #loki oneshots #loki x y/n #loki x you #loki marvel #loki laufeyson #fluff #loki x reader #loki imagine #loki laufeyson x reader #loki fanfiction

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himboskywalker · 1 year

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SPEAKING of omegaverse Tag I’ve been wanting to ask you what it is about a/b/o that you like so much and are especially drawn to?im very picky for my a/b/o and you somehow always get it exactly right so I’m curious what you look for in your omegaverse content?

Oof this is a complicated question for me actually lol Keep in mind I’ve literally been reading a/b/o since it’s origin in the Supernatural fandom on LIVEJOURNAL. I read the first a/b/o fic,I was in the fandom space and on the forums when it emerged,so I have quite literally followed along with it since it’s inception,and have kept tabs on its various evolutions through the years and through the different fandoms I’ve been in.

Originally it was much more about the animal characteristics and what I was seeing was very coded into werewolf verses or other creature societies very similar. What drew me in originally was a lot of those animal instincts of dominance and submission,especially with the alpha biting to enforce submission. As everyone on here knows I really really like biting,it’s kind of intrinsically tied in with my views of eroticism,so anything that heavily features biting kink will have my full attention. It’s why I love vampire content so much,or a lot of creature content.

I also have a really strong sense of smell,and in the more creature focused a/b/o fics,and then in Teen Wolf when a/b/o was interwoven with werewolves,scent played a big part in their characteristics. I really really like scent based stuff,in real life the way a partner smells is a large part of my attraction to them,it’s usually one of the first things I notice. For a lot of people,even if they don’t realize it,scent and pheromones play an important role in attraction. I love universes where this is played up,and scents become,not just a more blatant form of attraction,but also a vehicle for characterization and even communication. In a lot of next generation a/b/o the scent component has veered away from the wolf stuff in the OG omegaverse,but it’s something I hold onto and love. Like the force in Star Wars,it offers an opportunity to me as a writer to explore an alternative form of communication and recognition between characters.

At its core a/b/o is a really fun way for me to explore dom/sub dynamics too and in fact the dom/sub universes you see in fanfic now stemmed from omegaverse. There’s something about these sexual preferences being instinctual in these verses that made my own exploration for these wants and preferences somehow safer for me to accept when I was younger. And being able to read stories where a submissive male partner isn’t mocked for wanting these things while also being able to be a strong and independent person helped me realize a lot of things about myself that I always found confusing.

And on that note when done right I thing a/b/o is a wonderfully subversive and unique way to explore gender and gender roles. When I wrote conceal me what I am it was intrinsically interwoven with trans and nonbinary themes and was a very safe way for me parse through my own emotions of how I perceive myself and how the world perceives me. In all,exploring a submissive male character with certain cis female sexual characteristics has been a decade long process of coming to terms with my own gender-fluid ness,and being very comfortable with it,when I think without certain fictional avenues,I would have had a much harder time wrapping my head around it and how I perceive myself.

I think maybe what you see in my a/b/o writing,and what others have seen in it,is my dislike for feminizing male characters that I use as a vehicle for gender and sexual exploitation. This is no hate in any way to writers who do,there’s nothing wrong with it,but it’s something I always found personally distressing without being able to articulate why. More recently I’ve been able to identify that I find being feminized distressing,even though I identify as a woman some of the time.And so I find reading a male character being feminized as distressing because of my own life and raising. I like a/b/o as a means to look into the other,into the liminal inbetween and the hard to identify and parse outside of the rigid gender structures society has given us. So when I go into an a/b/o story with a wanting for that exploration and then it’s a projection of typical heteronormative gender ideals onto a not typical heteronormative dynamic,I find it upsetting. So in my own writing I avoid that at all cost. Again this is not a judgement of anyone who creates or engages with content that does embrace that,I don’t view it as a moral failing in any way,it’s simply something I don’t like and so something I specifically try to circumnavigate in my own art. Or when I do explore the intervening of male and female and other,it’s in a way I understand and perceive the world,and so is a comforting navigation of things I myself am unsure about or don’t quite understand.

It doesn’t have to be this deep. All a/b/o doesn’t have to be a societal deconstruction of gender and sexuality and queer coding. Sometimes it’s as simple as mmmm inherent attraction because of instincts sexy. It can also be mmmm character smells good BITE BITE BITE. It’s what you make it and what you find meaning and/or pleasure from. There’s thousands of interpretations of a/b/o because it’s a wonderful vehicle for exploration of many things. This is just my own relationship with it.

#anons #fanfic stuff #a/b/o verse #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o mention #blacklist for squick #tag times #long post #gender #gender issues

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an-ecu-harrypotter-au · 2 months

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TPS Part 1: Toby's Letter

Ah'm a slow, 11 year old, southern boy wit a strong accent. Mah momma died when Ah was 5 so mah Pop's been raisin me by 'emself ever since. It ain't always been easy cause fer some reason Ah ain't like other boys. Sometimes shoes make mah feet hurt, a buncha people talkin makes me wanna run an hide, an if thangs jus don't go mah way Ah jus wanna cry. But today Ah'm doin well. Mah clothes feel good an nothin's too loud fer me. Even when Ah'm eatin breakfast, Ah'm feelin good. Ah see Pop comin in the kitchen with a letter.

"Son ya got a fancy letter today."

"Oh, gosh! Who'd be writin' a real fancy letter ta me? Ain't like Ah'm special. Did it say where it's from?"

"It done got sent from a fancy British wizard school, Hogwarts. Yer gonna be learnin magic."

Ah get real confused by it. We ain't in British. We're in Florida. Ah'm startin ta think this ain't real cause we don't even get mail till later in the day.

"How'd it get here?"

"Burrowin owl dropped it off by mah window."

Ah squint at Pop. Ah ain't ever seen an owl jus hang out by Pop's window let lone send 'em mail.

"Oh, yer jokin' wit me, Pop. Ain't no fancy school out there that teaches magic. Ah wanna hear ya read it ta me."

"Dear Mr. Kwimper, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July. Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress."

"Well doggone tha's a real letter. Does this Hogwarts school got a place ta stay? Ah ain't gonna be able ta sleep on no wood floors."

Ah start shakin mah head cause Ah slept on wood floors before. Mah head done hurt an Ah ain't stopped cryin till Pop picked me up an put me on his lap. He done tol me Ah's sleepwalkin so he made sure ta wrap me in a special blanket so Ah won't do that no more.

"They's got a dorm for all 'em kids. You's gotta take a special train jus fer gettin ta Hogwarts."

Ah start ta rock in mah chair cause Ah'm gettin excited.

"Wow! Do Ah gotta wear a fancy schmancy uniform, too?"

"We's gotta read the list Ms. Gonagall gave us so's we find everythin ya need son. Ah'm fixin ta make sure ya got robes that don't make ya meltdown."

Pop says meltdown an Ah 'member when he bought me clothes fer mah first day a school last year. Everythang done made mah skin itch an Pop had ta pay money fer grandmomma ta make me special clothes that don't make me cry. Her an granddaddy live in a nursin home in Orlando so we went on a big road trip ta get it. Ah ain't ever met momma's parents but Ah know the special blanket Pop wraps me in came from 'em.

"Here's the list. Gotta read it good son."

Ah start readin it an it's a real long list mah eyes start glazin over so's Ah start readin it out loud cause Ah 'member things better doin it like that.

"First-year students'll require: Three sets a plain black robes, a plain pointed black hat fer day wear, a pair a protective dragon hide gloves, an a black winter cloak wit silver fastin's. Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags."

Ah blink a couple times an look at Pop.

"Ah really gotta wear all this Pop? Ah don't wanna wear clothes that got itchy name tags cause then Ah'm gonna be cryin cause it's gonna make mah skin itch."

"Ah ain't gonna make the name tags itch, Toby. Ya ain't gotta wear it all at once. We's jus gotta make sure ya got 'em so yer ready. Don't wanna have ya goin ta a wizardin school nekked. Now keep on readin yer list."

Ah nod mah head a couple times an try findin mah spot again.

"All students should have a copy a each a the following: The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1), A History a Magic, Magical Theory, A Beginner's Guide ta Transfiguration, One Thousand Magical Herbs an Fungi, Magical Drafts an Potions, an The Dark Forces: A Guide ta Self-Protection. Tha's a lotta books Pop. Ah dunno if Ah'm gonna be able ta read 'em all."

"We ain't gonna know what ya need 'em fer till ya get yer schedule. Jus keep goin son."

Ah start rubbin the letter again so Ah don't lose mah place.

"1 wand, 1 pewter standard size 2 cauldron, 1 set a glass or crystal vials, 1 telescope an a 1 set a brass scales. Pop wha's a vial?"

He taps his head ta think. Vial sounds like a fancy word fer somethin.

"Somethin like a bottle son. Gotta be a fancy bottle cause ya ain't gonna be jus workin wit water."

"Ah guess ya make sense Pop."

Mah finger traces over the final lines a the letter.

"Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad. PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK."

Pop pats mah head an he's smilin which Ah think's a good thang. Ah think Ah also said the last part a the letter too loudly.

"So how's we gonna be payin fer this Pop. A lotta stuff we gotta get if Ah'm goin ta the wizardin school."

"Doncha worry son. Wizardin money ain't the same as our money. We's gonna do good."

"Wow. Ah ain't never even thought bout gettin a new pair a socks before. Pop, Ah gotta get there. How'm Ah gonna get there? Ah don't have no owl."

Ah start rubbin mah hands which Ah always start doin when Ah'm gettin nervous bout somethin.

"We's gotta move ta the UK when ya done wit your schoolin this year Toby."

"We's movin'?"

"We's got Kwimper kin in Ireland. Gonna be boardin with em."

Mah hands keep rubbin faster. Ireland's jus so far ways from Florida Ah'm kinda gettin scared.

"Ah don't wanna live in Ireland, Pop. There ain't any sweet tea there. Wha bout grandmomma an granddaddy? Ain't they gonna be sad that we're leavin?"

"Sure but they's got plenty a ponds full a frogs an toads fer ya son. They ain't gonna be sad Toby. Once they see yer letter they're gonna want ya ta go. Grandpa always said ya need ta go ta a special school meant ta help ya."

Ah start gettin excited. Pop thinks it's funny when Ah go from bein all scared ta bein happy. Maybe he knows it's cause everythang goes from bein scary ta bein fun so long's ya talk bout it right.

"They's got froggies an toadies there?"

"Mhm. Gotta have a pet ta bring so's ya can find a toad or frog there."

"Yipppeee! Okay, Ah'll find the smallest, quietest, cutiest lil froggie that there ever was an Ah'm gonna love it, an hug it, an give it a name! Ah'm gonna take it ta school!"

Ah'm wigglin in mah chair now. Wizardin school's soundin way more fun than regular schoolin.

"We's gonna have a lotta fun learnin bout the wizardin world. Lotta adventures ta have."

"Ah guess Ah got a whole school year fer learnin' magic an catchin' toadies! Boy howdy!"

Pop pats mah head an Ah start tryna ta calm down. Pattin mah head seems ta help when Ah get all excited. Thinkin bout froggies an toadies jus make me wanna wiggle.

"Now finish eatin so's we can get ya to school."

"Oh! Ok Pop."

Ah finish mah breakfast an hurry ta put on mah shoes an start ta follow Pop ta the car.

"Ah better remember the whole list! Ah ain't gonna be one a 'em kids who ain't ready fer school cause they ain't read the list."

"Got plenty a time ta learn the whole list son."

After we leave the house an head down the road tagether Ah start talkin again. Ah jus gotta get it all outta mah mouth cause now Ah'm too excited.

"Ya said there'd be a special train to Hogwarts, Pop. Wha's that mean?"

"Means only Hogwarts kids get ta ride on it."

"Well, how'd they know who the Hogwarts kids are, Pop?"

"You's gonna be gettin a special ticket tellin ya where ta go. Only Hogwarts students an kin can go ta that part of the station."

Ah ain't been on a train before. Ah only seen 'em go on by when Pop'd take me shoppin in the main town. Ah ain't even known what a train ticket'd look like.

"Ah get a ticket? Can Ah see it, Pop?"

He chuckles which probably means Ah done got somethin wrong.

"Ah ain't got it yet. We's gonna get the ticket durin the summer."

"Aww... But you'll gimme the ticket right when we get it?"

"Course Ah'm gonna give it ta ya. Ya only got yer letter cause ya turned 11 last week."

This is so much ta think bout. Ah can't even wait ta get ta Hogwarts.

"Ah can't wait fer mah own magic ta happen! Pop, have ya ever used magic?"

He looks down an Ah wonder if Ah done said the wrong thing.

"No Ah don't son."

"But ya know 'bout it. Why don't ya do magic?"

He keeps pattin mah head.

"Ah ain't been born wit it son. It happens."

"Oh, Ah get it."

Mah mind starts ta wander. How's it that Ah been doin magic an no one done tol me bout it.

"When mah own magic starts to happen, do Ah jus say a magic word or somethin an it happens?"

"Been makin magic happen past couple a days. Tha's why you's gotta be kept calm so's ya don't get meltdowns."

Ah gotta be quiet cause everythang Pop done tol me's gotta be thought through. Ah musta got mah magic last week cause Ah sure don't 'member doin tricks.

"Pop? Will they make it so's Ah won't have meltdowns no more?"

"Might get better when you's grown. That's why Ah've been tellin ya ta use yer times tables."

Ah blink a little an feel kinda sad. Ah thought magic'd be able ta do anythin but Ah guess it ain't like that.

"Oh. So Ah can go ta Hogwarts an learn magic even if Ah'm slow?"

"Tha's right."

Pop an Ah make it ta school. Ah'm feelin better now that we's had our talk.

"Now you's have a good day son. Ah'll pick ya up later."

"Ok Pop. Ah'll be good."

"Tha's mah boy. Jus get through these final months then we's gonna be movin ta the wizardin world. Don't go tellin yer friends though cause they'll jus get jealous."

Ah jus can't stop smilin. Ah hope mah teacher don't get mad cause Ah'm too busy thinkin bout bein a real wizard.

"Bye Pop!"

Ah head out the car an inta the schoolyard ta find mah friends. As much as Ah'll miss 'em Ah jus can't wait ta move ta the wizardin world.

AN: Shout out to @arrolyn1114 for helping me proofread.

Tagging my followers: @nemos-rapture, @xanatenshi, @briefpandatimemachine, @alienelvisobsession and @hooked-on-elvis.

#toby and the veela #the philosopher's stone #yer a wizard toby

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dyrewrites · 5 months

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15 Questions OC Edition

@unmellowyellowfellow shared this as an open tag, so I'm doing it!

And also keeping it OPEN

Answering with Delmas, because I'm curious what he'd say. >.>

1. Are you named after anyone?

Eh, kinda. Dad was Delmont, I'm Delmas, don't know my grandad (dad was in his late hundreds as it was) but he was probably a Del too.

2. When was the last time you cried?

Like a bit of a sniffle or a full on mess of snot and salt? 'Cuz it's been years since I've let out enough to notice, but gettin' it right up to the surface, where it burns but won't fall...well, that was yesterday.

3. Do you have kids?

I'm going to say no, and hope that a certain tiny wolf what threatened to adopt me is not listening.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Little boring be direct all the time, ain't it? Gotta leave some mystery.

5. What's the first thing you notice about people?

What they're noticin' me with, of course.

6. What's your eye color?

Hazel. Exciting in the right light, boring in all else.

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

I'm a sucker for a good sapfest. Life so seldom ends happy, nice to see someone enjoyin' it.

8. Any special talents?

None I care to broadcast.

9. Where were you born?

Elysium, Upper Dolor, high up in the ivory towers, though you wouldn't know it to look at me...or to ask around.

10. What are your hobbies?

Cooking. A skill borne out of necessity, and boredom, that's turned into a delightful use of the few off hours I get.

11. Do you have any pets?

Nah, most of the furry things that can stand my presence are of a temporary sort. Well, they used to be.

12. What sports do you play/have you played?

Boxing a sport? Never felt like a sport, sports have teams don't they? But it's what I did, for more years than most.

13. How tall are you?

6'5", which don't seem so big to me, but I did spend quite a few years around ogres.

14. Favorite subject in school?

I had tutors, all old enough to have their names in the textbooks other kids were readin'. Favorite though, that's a tough one. Madam Forel maybe, taught English. Which I butcher often, but she always said words was meant to be toyed with.

15. Dream job?

Hah, that's. That's a question. Can't rightly answer it, but it's definitely a question, so I guess I oughta try. I had one once, carried it with me longer than I should've too but, well, everything went and got nebulous on me. Life's a bit sideways now, so. Dunno.

#writeblr #tag games #oc questions #open tag #this was really fun #i wasn't expecting some of those answers

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mentalserpents · 5 days

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PINNED POST

hi. im tyler. he/they. 18. art student. well. used to be. before the horrors. why couldnt it have been dragons just dragons i would have been fine with just dragons but noooo. Anyways. thought id change my pfp to fit the occasion. the name stays tho cuz ive had this url since middle school and by god im not changing it now. explodes. anyways i have a uhhhhh. chime echo? i think thats what its called? idk i wasnt huge into pokemon before all this.

oh also my sister may occasionally steal my phone to post shit. hold on lemme pass it to her so she can make her intro

haaiiii :3 im ramona!!!! she/her. of course i have dark hair and pronounce lmao. not telling yall my age bc ummm im literally neurodivergent and a minor. if i steal tylers phone ill just like. sign off on the post or smth. im just making my text blue for easy readin

[ OOC: It is STRONGLY recommended that you read the information beneath the cut!] // tw apocalypse, unreality, high stakes

[Likes and follows come from @jaimemes]

Summary

We put the IRL in PKMN IRL lmao This blog takes place in our reality, the real world, but Pokemon suddenly began to appear over a year ago through Ultra Wormholes. Just the Pokemon. No Pokeballs, no healing items, no tech specific to the Pokemon world. Without the Pokemon-specific infrastructure that the fictional games have, our reality was fully unprepared for the arrival of Pocket Monsters, and quickly fell into chaos.

As such, there is a heavy blanket warning for apocalypse and unreality on this blog.

If you have questions do not be afraid to ask!

⚠ WARNINGS ⚠

Apocalypse / Post-Apocalypse

Big unreality warning!

High Stakes often!

By nature of this world not having the same stuff as the PKMN World this is very much a Nuzlocke in a sense but worse as no proper healing items exist nor Pokeballs.

Possible death, injury, etc.

When interacting with this blog, please make sure to tag your posts properly so those who do not wish to see this are not subjected to the posts here!

Blog Guidelines

Pelipper Mail / Malice + Musharna Mail / Malice are OFF.

Magic Anons are OFF.

Any kind of Pokemon IRL account is welcomed to interact! Sentient Pokemon, fallers, eeby deebies, evil teams, ect.

Tags

#tyler talks -> Any post made by Tyler #ramona rambles -> any post made by Ramona #pokepocalypse -> all ic posts will be tagged with this! I urge anyone interacting with this blog to also tag with this so people can block the tag if needed!

My friends blogs who are also in this world!

@open-the-sky

@antlernyx

@inverse-embers

#pkmn irl #tyler talks #ramona rambles #pokepocalypse #tw apocalypse #tw unreality

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digital-chance · 9 months

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Writing Question Tag

thank you sm @janec23 for the tag! sorry for taking ages on this.

gently tagging: @halfbit, @vollzz, @scribbling-stardust, @leisoree, @your-absent-father, @magicicada-lbwrites, @clairelsonao3, @soiledcat, @mjparkerwriting, @aspiringfictionwriter, @ruinmegently

questions at the bottom

1. What is your absolute all-time favourite ideas you’ve ever had?

Honestly, I don't really know. All my favorite ideas I usually use for a wip and I don't really have a all-time fav.

2. Is there a question you’ve been asked in the past that really stands out to you, and you still think about sometimes?

Lately I've been seeing worldbuilding posts that say something along the lines of "do you know have to know every little detail about the world? is it relevant to the plot to know exactly which plants grow in each season? if it isn't, you don't have to figure that out." (plant thing example). It's a great reminder that sometimes the nitty-gritty details aren't needed and that worldbuilding can be more manageable.

3. What is your favourite part of being a writer? What parts could you take or leave?

My favorite part of being a writer is the storytelling and the adventures that I can make the characters go on. I enjoy daydreaming about the adventures and coming up with ways they would tackle different situations. What I don't enjoy is finding the precise words for each of those situations, especially the important lines. I tend to forget the words right when I need them which makes the entire feat annoying and the first few drafts will have tons of bracket placeholders.

4. What is your greatest motivation to write/create?

I love the process of creation and getting caught up in the mess of ideas. One of the greatest motivations is getting inspired or new ideas. Lately, I've been drawing and reading more and generally trying to balance all of my creative passions more which is something I haven't done for literal years. It's both exciting and strange at the same time. I still create and get into the mess of the/my process which is the best part for me, just in a different way.

5. What is the best piece of advice you’ve ever read or been given as a writer?

Use brackets [ ] as placeholders when you're writing in order to keep your flow. I've depended on this for my initial drafts for my wips since it's the only way I can make sure I can keep writing without feeling bogged down with details that I can fill in later.

6. What do you wish you knew when you were first starting out writing?

It's okay to write scenes out of sequence and then piece it together afterward. If writing chronologically dampens your creative process, writing whatever scene comes to you is okay.

7. What is your favourite story you’ve written to completion? Link it if you’d like and can!

Nothing yet so far. I've posted one chapter of you still would've been mine but I'm not really happy with it.

8. What is your favourite out-of-the-box quote?

I don't really have any favorite quotes. I do enjoy clever or inspirational lines but I don't think about them often enough to remember them.

9. Which of your characters would you say has the most controversial mindset? Why do you say so, and how do you personally feel about their ideals?

Rowan Reyes, 100%. They're anti-capitalist, anti-government, anti-rich, to just name a few movements. They're incredibly passionate and motivated and don't let things like government confidentiality stop them. I feel like this is a lot more radical than most people believe and the topics would definitely start arguments at family dinners or on twitter. Personally their ideals are a lot more intense than mine but it's something new to explore. It's very suited for their role in their story along with their society.

10. If you, when you first started writing, met you now, what would younger you think?

I would be surprised at my career path and would be surprised that I read more fanfiction than novels lately. I used to be REALLY into reading and so the shift in what I read would be surprising. Also, I'd be surprised that fanfiction exists point-blank. It's what I wanted as a kid but I didn't even imagine that it would be possible. Oh and that I transitioned. (again, something child me didn't even imagine to be possible)

question template::

1. What is your absolute all-time favourite ideas you’ve ever had?

2. Is there a question you’ve been asked in the past that really stands out to you, and you still think about sometimes?

3. What is your favourite part of being a writer? What parts could you take or leave?

4. What is your greatest motivation to write/create?

5. What is the best piece of advice you’ve ever read or been given as a writer?

6. What do you wish you knew when you were first starting out writing?

7. What is your favourite story you’ve written to completion? Link it if you’d like and can!

8. What is your favorite out-of-the-box quote?

9. Which of your characters would you say has the most controversial mindset? Why do you say so, and how do you personally feel about their ideals?

10. If you, when you first started writing, met you now, what would younger you think?

#tag game #writeblr #me #thoughts #oc: rowan reyes

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willinglyghoulified · 7 months

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WIP Wednesday! (because we suck at keeping up with dates here)

Tagged by @sassenashsworld!! Gonna tag: @sillyandquiteawkward, @worthlesssix, @bokatan, @datura-tea (if you guys don't have a WIP that's okay!)

I'm going to share with you guys the next bit I have written for Book 3: Hope Restored in my FO4 fanfic series. This is shortly after the Brotherhood's tirade forced a lot of drifters and non-humans to take refuge in Goodneighbor.

I leaned back on the couch and stared at the ceiling, forcin' myself to keep a clear head so I could sift through all my thoughts. I was gettin' a goddamn headache again, though.

With the warehouses transformed into places where the influx of drifters can take shelter, I felt a little better that they weren't crowdin' the streets, but that didn't solve the issue of people pissin' and shittin' in the alleys and behind the buildings. It also didn't solve our food shortage, and that was about a hair's breadth away from gettin' out of hand.

It wouldn't be long before some of the more well-known caravans rolled through here, namely Trashcan Carla and Cricket, so I could check with them for supplies, but there was no way they were gonna have enough to supply the whole town.

Somethin's gotta give, and soon.

Fahrenheit sat across from me, drinkin' a beer and readin' a Guns and Bullets magazine that she had read so many times, the pages were startin' to fall out. She hadn't said much to me ever since the incident last night with the man and his son in the alley, where that prick threatened them.

"... I gotta address the town," I said, finally breakin' the deafening silence.

"What about?" she asked without lookin' up.

"About the conditions around here. I know they're stressed out there. They're gonna want answers before they riot."

She closed the magazine and slapped it onto the table. Then she crossed her arms and stared at her knees, but she didn't say a word.

"What? Nothin' to bitch about this time?"

"Like it'll do me any good anyway."

"Fahr..." I leaned forward, laced my fingers together, and propped my elbows on my knees. I gave her the most serious look I could muster. This thing between us — it had been goin' on for too damn long. "Talk to me."

"There's nothing to say. At the end of the day, I'm just here to do my job and earn my paycheck."

My fingers tightened around themselves. That shit hurt. It was meant to be personal. A low blow. I had to choose my next words carefully so this didn't turn into a full-scale argument. I unclenched my jaw and sighed. "... What aren't you happy with? Tell me what I can do to make things better between us. I'm tired of feelin' like everything I do is a fuck-up in your eyes. And I don't talk about this shit lightly. You and me, we've known each other for years. You should be able to be honest with me."

She placed both hands on the couch on either side of her, gripping its fabric with frustration, and leaned forward over the coffee table. Her words came out strained, like she was pissed but trying to hold it in. "I want things to go back to the way they were. The last eight years we've run this town have been carefree, enjoyable, and even fun. You just aren't the same person I knew from back then. Out of all the times you've been gone from Goodneighbor, you were never gone this long. And now, my worst fears have become a reality: you came back changed. You let yourself be influenced, and now you're ..." she motioned toward me with her hands, "... whatever you'd call this. Justified? Uppity? Noble?"

"That's not what this is. Hear me out. There are people out there sleepin' in their own filth, in the rain, under tarps and debris just to stay dry. It's hot as piss out there, and there's a shortage of clean water. They're starvin'. That kid last night coulda got shanked in the alley all because of some debt. Goodneighbor is dangerous. Used to, I liked it dangerous. I liked our reputation. We were badass, didn't take shit from anybody, lived life on our own terms. Now? Now it's not a place I'd wanna take my own kid to —"

"So that's what this is really about."

"Huh?"

"That kid. Gwen's kid. So you are just trying to make Goodneighbor like Diamond City. You want us to start conforming to a 'better way of life,' where there are laws and rules to follow."

"Is having a few laws that bad? I just want what's best for everyone. If it means clearin' out a few lowlifes to make the town safer for the honest folk driftin' in here —"

"Those 'lowlifes' are the people you used to scheme with, and you had no problem with them then. See, this is what I'm talking about, Hancock."

I rubbed my face roughly. She just refused to hear me. Or maybe I just refused to hear her. Either way, we just weren't gonna see eye to eye, and I was gettin' fed up.

"I have friends that are lowlifes. Yeah, I have more friends than just you, believe it or not. When you're gone, I gotta talk to someone besides the neighborhood watch about work. And I'd rather not be one of the reasons my friends either got kicked out of Goodneighbor or wound up dead, because they have every right to be here as us. Some of them have been here since the beginning, and I'll be damned if I see them thrown to the ruins like your brother did to the Ghouls all those years ago. I don't want us to become like Diamond City. I don't want you to become your brother."

I kicked the table, knockin' everything around on top, my Jet canister fallin' onto the floor and the ashes in the ash tray flying onto the tabletop. "That wasn't him! That was the goddamned Synth that replaced him that kicked the Ghouls outta Diamond City! My brother would never do that!"

My breathing was uneven now. I had to calm down, get a grip. Fahr was really startin' to push my buttons.

"Hmph. Sometimes I wonder if even you have been replaced. If it wasn't for you being a Ghoul, I'd wager you were replaced, too. Because I feel like I barely recognize you anymore."

That's it. That was the straw that broke the goddamn Brahmin's back. "Whatever. You're just stickin' around for a paycheck, right? Then stop complainin' and do your job or I'll dock your pay. Every time you complain, I take ten caps off your tally. How's that sound?"

Her face went blank, eyes wide. "Are you shitting me?"

"Does it look like I'm in a jokin' mood?"

She stood up and walked across the room and to the safe. She took the keys out of her pocket and unlocked it.

"The hell are you doing?" I asked, standing up too.

"I'm taking what you owe me, and I'm leaving your employ."

"You're what!"

"You heard me." She counted out an amount from the safe and then slammed it shut. She tossed me the keys, and I didn't bother catching them, just let them clatter to the floor at my feet. "Have fun with your new Diamond City."

"You really gonna do this?"

She didn't answer me. She shoved her caps into her pockets and took a bag out of the closet. When she started packing shit into it, I realized just how serious she was.

"Fine, go, then. See if I give a shit. All you ever did was nag me anyway."

After her chems, booze, magazines, and spare bullets were packed, she slung her bag over her shoulder, walked out of the office, and slammed the doors behind her.

I was left with the silence. I didn't know what to do with this anger. This was the maddest I'd been in a while, and I hated it. I hated feelin' like this. I was too fucking sober to deal with this shit. God, it hurt so bad, I wanted to claw the pain out of my chest. Instead, I wound up punching a hole into the wall, kicking over the coffee table, throwing glass mugs against the filing cabinets, and pounding my fists in the top of the desk.

Once I had wreaked havoc on the furniture in my office, I was tired and out of breath, and my knuckles were bruised. I collapsed on the couch, not really feelin' much better, and took about six or seven Mentats, just hoping that somethin' would ease my mind.

#fallout #fallout 4 #fo4 #john hancock #hancock #fahrenheit #wip tag #wip wednesday #book 3: hope restored #angst

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shirogane-oushirou · 3 months

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AAAAAAAAAAA RO!!! BESTIE!!!! YOUR TAGS ARE DESTROYING ME RN /POS

I just had to send you an ask in response because oouughghghhhh... my feels... 🥺💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

I actually never realized how much I look like Java until I put our faces next to each other on that moodboard!!! The resemblance between us is so uncanny - but maybe that's why they've been giving me such good gender vibes lately ☺️ Amber resembles me quite a bit as well according to another friend, which is awesome to hear as an aspiring non-human shapeshifting critter!! Seriously, I'm so thrilled that you guys see it, too!! My gender euphoria levels shot THROUGH THE ROOF when you told me that...!!!

YOUR COMPLIMENTS ON MY PHOTO TOO... *SNIFF*... 😭🫂💖 I really love how my glasses look on me!! Last time I went to the optometrist, I tried to pick frames that I felt suited me, and that happened to take me into the men's section!! My mom was a bit confused by it, but those frames spoke to me right away 🥰 I didn't care that they were supposed to be frames for prescription sunglasses!! Besides, my lenses tint in the sunlight anyway so 😎✨️✨️✨️

I saw the tags you left on my art comm too, and I SO AGREE WITH YOU. I TOTALLY GET IT. I have a ton of Rockstar gifs and screenshots saved to a folder, and I adore the shit outta them all, but... ever since I discovered my guy's gender identity, if he doesn't have scruffy facial hair or a fuzzy chest patch, or those soft, hairy limbs... or his precious top surgery scars that he's so proud of?? He feels kinda like a different Cookie to me LOL

Basically, if he ain't hairy, transmasc or genderfluid, then he ain't my husband 😌💖✨️✨️ I think my version of him really suits the voice he has in C.R.K too!! A rough, rugged old man with passion and energy to spare, but who's finally starting to settle down a bit, too... he's not quitting the rock scene, not by a long shot - but he is a bit more inclined to blow things off and disappear if Java needs him (or if he misses them enough ☺️💖). He's an absolute menace in such a playful way, and I'm so attached to him, honestly... my handsome rock beauty 🥰💖💖💖💖

AAAAAAAAAAANYWAYS. This has been my involuntary Rockstar Supremacy ted talk!! Thank you for attending since you had no choice 🤣 /lh

And as always, I appreciate your tags and comments on my stuff!! I get so happy and flappy when I see that you rbed my stuff cuz I get to read all your awesome thoughts, hehe 🤗✨️

♡• @rockstars-babe •♡

NO IT'S SO REAL THO!!!! i pogged when i saw your face next to java's akjsndfkjnsf like?????? oh they're LITERALLY just reffie ok ok ok LMAO. and i can definitely see you in amber too!!!! idk i just feel like your s/is fit you so clearly despite having such drastically different designs, it's Wild!!!

god, i really need to take that approach when i start looking into getting new frames sometime soon ;;; that's such a nice way of thinking about it. like. if you're going to put that much investment into something you're expecting to wear for a number of years straight, may as well get some that are cool as shit KJNDFKJN and have the most comfortable vibes, gender be damned.

it's so odd, bc i've mostly known rockstar through you, and 90% of the time it's been CRK rockstar... but as soon as you really 'discovered' him, it's like a switch flipped ksjndf. it just fits him so well!! and i'd especially trust that view from someone who knows as much about him as you clearly do, from all of your talk about the new game >:)

and the voice thing!!!!! that's so odd too!!!!! when i was doing that "give me a series and i'll find an f/o" ask game, i listened to a couple of his voice lines for curiosity's sake. and his voice was like... it felt like it could grow on me, but his visual image and his voice were just a little... out of sync? if that makes sense? they weren't quite lining up w each other. but as SOON as you posed the topless comm of him i was like :0 OH. THIS IS WHO THAT VOICE BELONGS TO. JKNASFKJN.

i love reading your gushes about him; you have SUCH passion for him and for everyone who makes up your cookie family with and around him. 😭 it's why i like to really consider what i say in the tags; i want to match that energy! and it's why i look forward to when YOU rb stuff!!! you put just as much passion into appreciating everyone else's ships!! you just have so much passion in general and it's something i admire about you 🥺🥺🥺

(though i would 100% be behind if you decided to not pressure yourself so much KJNSDKFJN ;; you're dealing with so much outside of selfshipping, and you should feel able to come on here and Just Chill without feeling like you have to put 200% effort into replies and tags ;w; )

#sorry if this is ramble-y i am very eepy and out of it KJSNDFKJN.#fr tho i've read this ask a number of times now and i get so happy seeing you express your love for your f/os. all of 'em.#you've put so much of yourself into your s/is and your f/os and the worlds they all inhabit; it's comforting to see how much love #you put in and how that mirrors all of that love back towards yourself! that's that Good Shit!!! 🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻#idk ilu (/pl) and appreciate you so much and love seeing you around as you show your love for your beloveds!!!! 💕😊#how many times can i say love in one tag KJANSD ;;;#📌 [ my posts. ]#[ asks. ]#[ oomfies ; reffie. ]

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deke-rivers-1957 · 6 months

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Toby Kwimper and The Letter

Ah'm a slow, 11 year old, southern boy with a strong accent. Mah momma died when Ah was 5 so mah Pop's been raisin me by himself ever since. It ain't always been easy cause fer some reason Ah ain't like other boys. Sometimes shoes make mah feet hurt, a buncha people talkin makes me wanna run an hide, and if things jus don't go mah way Ah jus wanna cry. But today Ah'm doin well. Mah clothes feel good an nothin's too loud fer me. Even when Ah'm eatin breakfast, Ah'm feelin good. Ah see Pop comin in the kitchen with a letter.

"Son ya got a fancy letter today."

"Oh, gosh! Who'd be writin' a letter so fancy to me? Pop, did it done say where's from?"

"It done got sent from a fancy British wizard school, Hogwarts. You're gonna be learnin magic."

"Oh, you're jokin' ta me, Pop. Ain't no fancy school in England teaches magic. Ah wanna hear ya to read it to me."

Pop chuckles an Ah done know he's jokin ta me.

"Well doggone tha's a real letter. Pop, Ah have a question. Does Hogwarts school got a place ta stay? Ah ain't gonna be able ta sleep on no wood floors."

Ah start shakin mah head cause Ah slept on wood floors before. Mah head done hurt an Ah ain't stopped cryin till Pop picked me an put me on his lap. He done tol me Ah's sleepwalkin so he made sure ta wrap me in a special blanket so Ah won't do that no more.

"They's got a dorm for all 'em kids. You's gotta take a special train jus fer gettin ta Hogwarts."

Ah start ta rock in mah chair cause Ah'm gettin excited.

"Wow! Do Ah gotta wear a fancy schmancy uniform, too?"

"We's gotta read the list Ms. McGonagall gave us so's we find everythin you need son. Ah'm fixin ta make sure you's got robes that don't make ya meltdown."

Pop says meltdown an Ah 'member when he bought me clothes fer mah first day a school last year. Everythang done made mah skin itch an Pop had ta pay money fer grandma ta make me special clothes that don't make me cry.

"Okay, okay, where's this list, Pop?"

He hands me the list and Ah start rubbin the paper. Fer some reason rubbin the paper whiles Ah read makes it easier fer me ta understand it.

"Gotta read it good son."

Ah start readin it an it's a real long list mah eyes start glazin over so's Ah start readin it out loud cause Ah sometimes 'member things better.

"First-year students will require: Three sets a plain black robes, a plain pointed black hat for day wear, a pair of protective dragon hide gloves, an a black winter cloak with silver fastenings. Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags."

Ah blink a couple times an look at Pop.

"Ah really gotta wear all this Pop? Ah don't wanna wear clothes that got itchy name tags cause then Ah'm gonna be cryin cause it's gonna make mah skin itch."

"Ah ain't gonna make the name tags itch, Toby Ya ain't gotta wear it all at once. We's jus gotta make sure ya got 'em so yer ready. Don't wanna have ya goin ta a wizardin school nekked. Now keep on readin yer list."

Ah nod mah head a couple times and try findin mah spot again.

"All students should have a copy of each of the following: The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1), A History of Magic, Magical Theory, A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration, One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, Magical Drafts and Potions, and The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection. Tha's a lotta books Pop. Ah dunno if Ah'm gonna be able ta read 'em all."

"We ain't gonna know what ya need 'em fer till ya get yer schedule. Jus keep goin son."

Ah start rubbin the letter again so Ah don't lose mah place.

"1 wand, 1 pewter standard size 2 cauldron, 1 set a glass or crystal vials, 1 telescope and a 1 set a brass scales. Pop wha's a vial?"

He taps his head ta think. Vial sounds like a fancy word fer somethin.

"Somethin like a bottle son. Gotta be a fancy bottle cause ya ain't gonna be jus workin wit water."

"Ah guess ya make sense Pop."

Mah finger traces over the final lines of the letter.

"Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad. PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK."

Pop pats mah head an he's smilin which Ah think's a good thang Ah think Ah also done said the last part a the letter too loudly.

"Ya read it good, Toby."

"So how's we gonna be payin fer this Pop. A lotta stuff we gotta get if Ah'm goin ta the wizardin school."

"Doncha worry son. Wizardin money ain't the same as our money. We's gonna do good."

"Wow. Ah ain't never even thought bout gettin a new pair a socks before. Pop, Ah gotta get there. How am Ah gonna get there? Ah don't have no owl."

Ah start rubbin mah hands which Ah always start doin when Ah'm gettin nervous bout somethin.

"We's gotta move ta the UK when you's done with your schoolin this year Toby."

"We's movin'?"

"We's got Kwimper kin in Ireland. Gonna be boardin with em."

Mah hands keep rubbin faster. Ireland's jus so far ways from Florida Ah'm kinda gettin scared.

"Ah don't wanna live in Ireland, Pop. There ain't any sweet tea there."

"Sure but they's got plentya ponds full of frogs an toads fer ya son."

Ah start gettin excited. Pop thinks it's funny when Ah go from bein all scared to bein happy. Maybe he knows it's cause everythang goes from bein scary ta bein fun so long's ya talk bout it right.

"They's got froggies and toadies there?"

"Mhm. You's gotta have a pet ta bring so's you can find a toad or frog there."

"Yipppeee! Okay, Ah'll find the smallest, quietest, cutiest little froggie that there ever was an Ah'm gonna love it, and hug it, an give it a name! Ah'm gonna take it ta school!"

Ah'm wigglin in mah chair now. This wizardin school's way more fun than mah regular schoolin.

"Tha's right, Toby. We's gonna have a lotta fun learnin bout the wizardin world. Lotta adventures ta have."

"Ah guessAh got a whole school year fer learnin' magic and catchin' toadies! Boy howdy!"

Pop pats mah head an Ah start tryna ta calm down. Pattin mah head seems ta help when Ah get all excited. Thinkin bout froggies and toadies jus make me wanna wiggle.

"Now finish eatin so's we can get ya to school."

"Oh! Ok Pop."

Ah finish mah breakfast and hurry ta put on mah shoes and start ta follow Pop outta the front door inta the car.

"Ah better remember the whole list! Ah ain't gonna be one a 'em kids who ain't ready fer school cause they ain't read the list."

"Got plentya time ta learn the whole list son."

After we leave the house and head down the road together Ah start talkin again. Ah jus gotta get it all outta mah mouth cause now Ah'm too excited.

"Ya said there'd be a special train to Hogwarts, Pop. Wha's that mean?"

"Means only Hogwarts kids get ta ride on it."

"Well, how'd they know who the Hogwarts kids is, Pop?"

"You's gonna be gettin a special ticket tellin ya where ta go. Only Hogwarts students and kin can go ta that part of the station."

Ah ain't been on a train before. Ah only seen 'em go on by when Pop'd take me shoppin in the main town. Ah ain't even known what a train ticket'd look like.

"Ah get a ticket? Can Ah see it, Pop?"

He chuckles which probably means Ah done got somethang wrong.

"Ah ain't got it yet. We's gonna get the ticket durin the summer."

"Aww... But you'll gimme the ticket right 'way when we get it?"

"Course Ah'm gonna give it ta ya. You's only got ya letter cause ya turned 11 last week."

This is so much to think bout. Ah can't even wait ta get ta Hogwarts.

"Ah can't wait for mah own magic ta happen! Pop, have ya ever used magic? Do ya do spells or somethin?"

He looks down an Ah wonder if Ah done said the wrong thing.

"No Ah don't son."

"But ya know 'bout it. Why don't ya do magic?"

He keeps patting mah head.

"Ah ain't been born with it son. It happens."

"Oh, Ah get it. But Ah could?"

"Tha's right."

Mah mind starts ta wander. How's it that Ah been doin magic an no one done tol me bout it.

"When mah own magic starts to happen, do Ah just say a magic word or somethin and it happens?"

"Been makin magic happen past coupla days. 'member when you's had a meltdown and our lights was flickerin?"

Ah try ta 'member but Ah jus can't cause when the tornado sirens done went off an Ah melted, Ah really weren't payin no attention ta the lights.

"Ah done all that?"

Pop nods an Ah wonder what this all means now.

"Tha's why you's gotta be kept calm so's ya don't get meltdowns."

"Oh, mah goodness Ah've actually been usin' mah own magic?!"

"You's ain't able to control it yet."

Ah gotta be quiet cause everythang Pop done tol me's gotta be thought through. Ah musta got mah magic last week cause Ah sure don't 'member doin tricks.

"Pop? Will they make it so's Ah won't have meltdowns no more?"

"You's like that cause you's was born different. Magic ain't able ta fix that."

"Ah'm gonna have these meltdown thingies the rest of mah life?"

"Might get better when you's grown. That's why Ah've been tellin ya ta use yer times tables."

Ah blink a little and feel kinda sad. Ah thought magic do anythang but Ah guess it ain't able ta.

"But when Ah grow up, will people still think Ah'm slow?"

"Maybe they will maybe they won't. You's only 11 so's ya gotta learn how ta live wit who ya are."

"Oh. So Ah can go ta Hogwarts an learn magic even if Ah'm slow?"

"Tha's right."

Pop an Ah make it ta school. Ah'm feelin better now that we's had our talk.

"Now you's have a good day son. Ah'll pick ya up later."

"Ok Pop. Ah'll be good."

"Tha's mah boy. Jus get through these final months then we's gonna be movin ta the wizardin world."

Ah jus can't stop smilin. Ah hope mah teacher don't get mad cause Ah'm too busy thinkin bout bein a real wizard.

"Bye Pop!"

Ah head out the car and into the schoolyard ta find mah friends. As much as Ah'll miss 'em Ah jus can't wait ta move ta the wizardin world.

Tagging based on who expressed interest so far: @arrolyn1114, @vintagepresley, and @aliengoth3. I'll add names when people leave a note.

#toby & the veela #toby kwimper #elvis ai #ecu fanfiction #my oc #harry potter au

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feralkwe · 6 months

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twenty questions for fic writers

tagged by @icescrabblerjerky THANK YOU!

1. How many works do you have on AO3? i have 32 works on ao3. i have a few more lost to time in ff.net, devart, and tumblr itself, but i tried to consolidate and focus the ones i care about to ao3.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 524,846. like i said above, i've lost a lot of fic to time and venue, so i know i have written much more in my life, but these are the ones i kept.

3. What fandoms do you write for? dragon age, final fantasy xiv, marvel, and mass effect, though all my mass effect fic was hosted other places and i no longer have it. i've also dabbled in fable 3, but that was exactly one work and it was ben finn/chicken crackfic.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

a champion's expectations, a dragon age 2 fic (f!hawke/anders/sebastian) that started with a cracky idea that was too rich to resist and sprawled a little out of control.

dossiers and snapshots, an unfinished marvel fic (clint barton/hawkeye x natasha romanoff/black widow and a dash of bobbi morse/mockingbird).

a hero's lamentations, dragon age origins (f!cousland/alistair, f!cousland/morrigan disaster triangle).

a queen's regrets, dragon age origins (awakening and witch hunt) fic that explores the repercussions of cousland's choices in dao.

and

food for thought, a little dragon age inquisition one-shot (f!trevelyan/cullen) that came to me fully formed.

5. Do you respond to comments? it's a habit i've gotten into! i was too shy and thought it seemed arrogant when i first started out, but i've come to love the back and forth.

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? hmm that's a toss up between a hero's lamentations and a champion's expectations. no one was actually happy leaving those fics, but probably the latter, since da2 kind of lends itself to that tone of ending, depending on choices.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? without a doubt, a herald's faith. it might be my only truly happy ending fic lol.

8. Do you get hate on fics? when i first wrote a queen's regrets i did, but largely on tumblr. people just could not handle my treatment of alistair. oh well, i didn't write it for them. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? i do! i even fancy myself pretty good at it.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? i used to. the only one i committed to for any length of time was a dragon age/buffy/angel fic that is lost to time, and probably for the better.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? i doubt it, but anything is possible.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? someone asked if they could translate a queen's regrets into russian, but i don't know if that ever happened.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? nope! kind of always wanted to, but the idea is a little daunting to me.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship? hmm, i think it changes depending on my mood and current fixation, but i think the ones that have endured the longest has been clint barton/natasha romanoff/bobbi morse (with a dash of bucky). i doubt i'll ever write it again, but it's definitely one that has stuck with me.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? any of my hawkeye fics. i think my marvel fandom days are long, long behind me.

16. What are your writing strengths? i like to think i do characters very well. i agonize over every word i write for them, but i like to think i do a good job of it. i have a special love of writing combat. also i like to think i have a good handle on structure at this point in my writing career.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? lol recognizing when i've done something. i am very good at tropes but not so great at realizing i've done one intentionally.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? i like it when it's done well, i guess. it depends on the fic, the fandom, the language, etc. i like it more in original fiction, but i've never quit reading a fic because of it.

19. First fandom you wrote for? if you walk it back far enough, i write babysitter's club self-insert fic when i was about 9.

20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written? a queen's regrets. it came the easiest to me, was really fun to write, and i still think it's some of my best work. a special mention goes to a secret of bees, a little sif/loki fic that i've always wanted to rewrite and make massive changes to. i will be chasing the white whale that is the style i managed in it for the rest of my life, i think.

i tag @yamisnuffles, @veliseraptor, @leggywillow, and @sketchyfletch. and anyone else who would like to do it!

#fanfic #my fic #writing #writeblr #b writes fic #memes

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pheita · 2 years

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Through his Eyes

Everyone's favorite cinnamon roll couple is back. @stormbrightwriter @kainablue @catharticallysarcastic @bloodlessheirbyjacques @weaver-of-fantasies-and-fables @abalonetea @writingamongther0ses @contes-de-rheio

I am too lazy to link the previous parts. Just follow the flowers of fire tag

Have fun girls, the one who gets what is going on gets to decide whose POV the next part will be.

The hint of a smile was on Constantine's face as he looked over the edge of the book and saw Tali whirling around the office. It was clear that she felt unobserved and thought he was completely absorbed in reading, as carefree as she acted. It was at moments like this that he caught a glimpse of the Tali hiding behind the shy young woman, hiding from the world. He made the note before forgetting his thought and put the book away. The few seconds had been enough for Tali to disappear from the front area of the office into the kitchenette behind him and now unexpectedly stand beside him with a freshly brewed cup of tea. Astonished, he looked up. "Thank you, Tali. How did you know?" "It's almost eleven o'clock. You usually finish your cup of tea by then and brew the second one."

Even though she stopped looking at the ground, Tali still couldn't manage to control her embarrassment at such moments and looked past him. "That's very thoughtful of you to notice." "You're a creature of habit," she chuckled softly. Just as quietly, she disappeared to get her tea, only to join him. Curious, she looked at the cover. "What are you reading?" "One of the first essays on the inheritance of abilities. Some theories from then have since been disproved, but others still stand." With a quarter turn, Constantine turned to here. Tali's gaze hung thoughtfully on the book. "What has been refuted?" "That abilities only appear within the direct family line. At least, since we know of half-elementals with dragon bending abilities, it should be self-explanatory to everyone that direct inheritance doesn't make sense." She laughed into her cup before taking a sip. "It really doesn't make any. If it worked that way, how are you going to explain the unique abilities that keep popping up?" "That's exactly my point," Constantine beamed, "All these centuries people have been trying to sort it too tightly, even though it's much more chaotic." "But the principles of heredity have not been known for that long, after all." There was that profound look from Tali again, accompanied by the tip of her tongue peeking out slightly, while her eyes betrayed how her thoughts went back and forth. "Humans have known the principles of heredity for not quite two hundred years, it's true. However, in fact, four hundred years before that, some mystical beings were already thinking about it." For background, Constantine tapped the book. "And this is that book." Curious, she looked there. "This is this book. Even though it's a pain to read. People thought little of scholarly works back then, and everyone who had anything to say about it wrote their own essay on it, which unfortunately means that the book here is just one of many scattered around the world. At least this is in a language I know."

The agonized sigh was hard to suppress. Tali put a hand on his arm encouragingly and smiled at him. "You still have time to learn the language for the rest, don't you?" "Your optimism is what I want." "You can have it translated, of course." "Please don't." Something about his reaction amused her, but Constantine couldn't tell what. Even after three months, Tali was still a mystery to him, where she was apparently already beginning to decipher him. She stood up briskly, taking her cup with her. For a moment, he was tempted to stop her, but didn't because he didn't know why he wanted to do it. He picked up the book again and half saw that Tali was standing in the middle of the room with the cup in her hand and seemed to be thinking. The following time, he immersed himself again in his reading and tried to suppress the urge to find out if the authors of that time were still alive and to have a few words with them about the subject of experimental design and scientific work, especially since even then some basics about these things existed that were clearly ignored here.

The sound of something heavy being moved brought Constantine out of his disgruntled thoughts and found Tali clearing a section of the long wall. "What are you doing?" "I thought it might be helpful to put the main points of your research on the wall as a thinking aid." "You mean a mind map?" "Exactly." She beamed at him briefly that he understood what she was getting at before eyeing the dresser. Amused, he set the book aside again and stepped next to Tali. "You've already carved out a space for it." She nodded gravely. "Draw it for me in the air." Briefly, Tali looked at him as if doubting his sanity, but then stood in front of the wall and walked the area she had chosen. Constantine quickly realized that in addition to the dresser, the heavy wing cabinet would also be in the way. "I think it's time we gave your skills a little workout." "What do you want that to look like?" She looked up at him.

"We're on the first floor. There's only dirt under the wooden floor." Satisfied, he watched Tali realize what he was getting at. "Small earthquakes?" "That's too much to handle. I think if you let the earth roll a little, I can use my wind to help the furniture slide to one side without either of us dislocating a vertebra or breaking anything." Soft giggles reached his ear before Tali concentrated. Nothing happened for long seconds, then the dresser creaked dangerously and jerked a little. Constantine reached under the dresser with his wind and lifted it a little to make it slide more easily. It would have been easy for him to move both pieces of furniture and make the space, but then Tali wouldn't have been able to practice her skills and would be deprived of a possible sense of accomplishment. If there was one thing he had quickly noticed, it was the point that she needed every little sense of accomplishment she could get. Slowly, with each new wave Tali sent through the floor, the dresser shifted further to the side. "That's enough," Constantine halted the process, "Now the closet." She snorted through it and shook her shoulders. "All right." "Try to relax. I just want you to concentrate, not hold the tension in your body." "I'm trying." With few steps he stood behind her and put his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed them down. "I know it's hard. We are automatically tempted to go with the movement with our bodies, it's an instinct. You have to let it become an instinct not to do it when you use your abilities." She looked up over her shoulders at him, eyebrows drawn together in a question. "I see so many who still move their hands when they use their abilities." "It's helpful with some types when you want to determine direction. Fire clan and water clan in particular have a tendency to do that, as their abilities are often manipulating something that is already in flux. Earth is stagnant." Again, the tip of her tongue slipped out a little as Tali's eyes looked past him in search of an answer to what only she knew the question to be. Her warmth slowly enveloped him.

Then suddenly there was that playful spark in her eyes, and she abruptly turned back to the wall. A moment later Constantine felt minimal vibrations emanating from her location. He almost laughed out loud. The air told him how the vibrations intensified and became waves that slowly carried the winged cabinet to its new location as if on a gentle wave, all without his help. "I did it!" Tali turned and jumped into his arms that he could only grab her to keep her from hurting herself. She looked at him with big bright eyes and wide smile, her hands on his chest. "Oh, sorry." "You have nothing to apologize for." The beam disappeared, giving way to the familiar uncertainty. Tali stepped away from him, nervously pushing her hair behind her ear. "I'll go get materials." Like the wind, she was through the door, so Constantine could only watch her disappear. He took a deep breath. His head dropped to the back of his neck and for a couple breaths he looked at the wood paneled ceiling. A few moments later, he stretched again and went back to the desk, back to his research, hoping it would make him forget how nice Tali felt in his arms.

#writblr #writing #flowers of fire #tali and constantine

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