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https-florals · 5 months

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daydreamin' and i'm thinking of you - j.m.

summary: jj returns from a day of surfing and devotes his night to you and a lil bit of weed.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: smoking weed, a lil suggestive, but mostly super fluffy and full of sweetness

author's note: back from the dead pookies!!! i just wanna say how incredibly grateful that none of yall have come for my wishy-washy ass! this year has been vcery hectic and rough, and i am so thankful y'all have let me be MIA. here's this little blurb smooch ily (i was too scared to flesh out the smut at the end IM SORRY ITS BEEN A WHILE)

JJ smells like a perfect, heady blend of sunscreen and salt when he and the boys get back from surfing. You’re waiting on the porch like a little 1950’s wife, and he runs up and hugs you as soon as he gets out of the Twinkie, acting like its been months since he’s seen you instead of a few hours.

“J!” You’re giggling as he swings you around, smacking loud kisses all over your face and neck.

“Missed ya, pretty girl,” he murmurs into your neck.

John B slaps JJ’s back, surprising him so he lets go of you. “You literally just saw each other.”

JJ’s jaw drops, hand over his heart like he’s been deeply wounded. “You’re just mad your woman isn’t out here to greet you,” he counters, squeezing your side and giving John B a sympathetic look.

“Wrong!’ Sarah says as she pushes open the screen door, giving her boyfriend an enthusiastic kiss on the cheek.

John B grins back at JJ, and follows Sarah back inside.

“You still up for that boat date later?” you ask, fingers intertwining with his.

You swear his eyes sparkle. “Um, duh!”

A few hours later, the sun is sinking into the horizon, sky turning the prettiest pink and orange. You are toting a basket full of picnic supplies: a tupperware full of elote salad, another with some grilled chicken, a speaker, and of course, a little cellophane baggie and some rolling papers. JJ’s job is to carry the fishing poles and bait (raw hot-dogs because why would he spend money on crickets when there’s hot dogs in the fridge?), and the six-pack of mini Dr. Peppers you’ll split (JJ will inevitably drink two of your three).

“Where are you going?” You hear someone call from inside the house, but both of you act like you can’t hear it.

HMS Pogue is sitting pretty at the end of the dock, and you practically skip onto it. The rev of the engine is like the call of an old friend, thrumming through you, bare feet on the deck.

You sit cross legged at the bow while JJ drives, your hair flowing behind you. The spray of freshwater is perfectly refreshing.

It’s dusk when the boat reaches a little secluded spot on the marsh, and JJ announces it. “Gorgeous,” he says, the sky purple above him. “And no one around for miles.” He plops next to you, sticking his nose in your neck and sighing. You’re sitting pretty in a bikini top and jean shorts, and he plays with the tie at your back.

You laugh and push him off, getting up to get your basket of food. He helps you unload it, mouthing a silent yes as he pulls out the sodas. Then comes the tupperware, and he sticks two spoons into the corn. “Cheers.” He holds his out.

You tap your spoon against his, and gasp in fake shock when he knocks the food of it.

“Gotta be ready, babe,” he deadpans, snatching up your bite after he eats his. “Danger is waiting at every turn.”

You shake your head and laugh, scooting the tupperware closer to yourself. “You’re so weird.”

“You love it,” He grins, and you can’t argue with that.

After you eat, JJ pulls out the package of hotdogs and starts to prep the rods.

“There’s no way you can catch fish with those,” you question, wrinkling your nose at them. You frown, turning on the puppy-dog eyes. “Do we have to fish? I wanna smoke.”

He copies your expression and sticks his bottom lip out. “Poor bunny,” he mocks, but shoves your fishing pole in your hand all the same. “Catch a fish, I’ll roll you a joint, ‘kay?”

You sigh. “ ‘Kay,”

He grins and plants a kiss on your forehead. “You got it, babe.” He gives you a chunk of hotdog and you slip it onto the hook. JJ comes up behind you to guide your cast and you let him, his breath warm on the back of your neck. There’s the whir of the line, and the satisfying plop of the bobber in the water.

“Now, we wait.” He takes the rod from you and drops it into the holder, and works on casting his own line.

You’re bored before he even puts his down. “I have to catch a fish before we smoke?”

“Yeah, crybaby.” The two of you sit on the bow, feet dangling over the water. His ankle knocks against yours.

You let out another dramatic sigh, but you let your head fall onto his shoulder. “This is the worst part. I hate waiting.”

JJ laughs. “Yeah, honey. I am well aware.” He pokes your side, and you yelp dramatically. Reaching over you, he pulls the speaker out of your basket, and turns it on. You watch as he connects to it and goes through his spotify, thumb skimming over the screen as he looks through his playlists. JJ clicks on one of your collaborative playlists, titled “songs for slow dancing.”

He stands up, reaching out to pull you up as the hauntingly pretty piano intro for Aretha Franklin’s Daydreaming begins to play. “Wanna kill some time?”

You smile, and let him pull you into him. You think you could slow dance with him until you dropped dead, until you collapsed into each other and turned into intertwined fossils. Maybe that kind of thing is a little too poetic for the two of you, but you don’t really care. He starts to sing along, and you press your ear to his chest to hear his voice thrum through his chest.

daydreaming and i’m thinking of you, daydreaming and i’m thinking of you…

One of his hands splays on the small of your back, fingertips sneaked under the waist of your shorts, callused and all too soft. The other one is holding yours as you sway back and forth to the beat.He twirls you out fast, and back into his grip, your back to his chest as he squeezes you.

No one would ever know it, but JJ absolutely loves to dance. A little after you started dating, you dragged him to some swing dancing classes at the community center, and expected plenty of pushback, but you were met with absolutely none. The two of you fell in love stepping on each others toes and falling all over each other. It’s always a fun party trick to pull out at the fancier parties. He’s always wanting to dance with you, whether it’s learning how to shag in the living room late at night, or spinning you around on the boat.

He stops you mid-step, asking, “Can we try the dirty-dancing jump?”

The dirty-dancing jump has only been successfully executed by the two of you once. All other times have ended in someone being injured (usually JJ). Your jaw drops open, and you lightly shove him. “Absolutely not! You wanna fall off the boat?”

He gives you the biggest eyeroll, but immediately switches to puppy dog eyes when you cross your arms. “Just like, a lift? Pleaseeeee,” he drags out, taking your hands and acting like he’s going limp.

“Fine! But if you drop me in this water, I’m actually going to have serious beef with you, Maybank.”

He laughs, maybe an itty-bit manaically, and grabs your waist. “Okay, I’m gonna count you off, and you’ll jump, ‘kay? So, one, two, three-”

You hear your fishing rod rattle in its holder and jump away from him. “My line!” Scrambling after it, you grab the pole right as it looks like it’s going to leap out of its holster.

“Get it babe!” JJ practically shouts, darting behind you and placing his arms around yours to give you a little support.

The whir of the line rushing out makes you jump, and you hurry to start reeling it back in, furiously turning the handle. JJ’s mouth is by your ear as you lean into him and he talks you up as you fight the fish. “Come on, baby, you got it. Keep going, keep going, you almost got it!”

He’s pulling half the weight, you know that, but you don’t mind the help when you can watch the cords in his forearms tense and pull.

Finally, the line leaps out of the water, and soon a big scaly body is flopping on the deck of the boat. “Atta girl!” JJ shouts as you snatch it up by the lure, holding it up proudly. It’s pretty heavy, probably a little over 14 pounds.

“Look at that, baby! Got yourself a bluefish.” JJ is smiling so proudly as he fishes out his phone, and makes you pose for a picture like one of those Tinder frat guys. The flash is harsh and you know you look crazy, but he grins at the picture all the same.

“Can you throw him back in? He’s too pretty to eat,” you ask as he messes with something on his phone. You’re still holding the fish as you try to lean over and see what he’s doing.

“Here, yeah.” He drops his phone on the boat deck and takes the fish from you to fling back in. When you look at his phone, you see your face staring back up at you from his lockscreen. It was some picture of the two of you from a party, but now it’s you and your fish. He immediately changed his wallpaper after he took the picture. In your opinion, it’s definitely not a knockout photo, but you almost tear up at the sweetness of it.

“You looked cute,” JJ shrugs, seeing you looking at it.

You just smile, shaking your head, and lean against him. “Can we get high now?”

“Damn, you waste no time, huh?”

Soon, your fishing rods forgotten, you’re watching JJ roll you a joint to share. His fingers dance along the rolling paper, tucking and smoothing all gentle. He’s mesmerizing. When his tongue darts out to wet the paper, you swear you start salivating.

He catches you staring, hitting you with that heartbreaker grin again. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“Shut up and light up,” you sigh, reaching for the blunt in his hands.

“Can’t light up if you don’t hand me my lighter,” JJ frowns, expression sarcastic. He puts his hand out, waiting.

You reach into your basket and pull it out, smiling when you see it. A few months ago, you had decided to buy JJ a custom lighter. You got him one off Etsy, a cheap Bic lighter with your face printed on the plastic. Of course, the image didn’t translate correctly, so the picture is heavily distorted, your smile big and wide and eyes even bigger.

It’s probably his favorite possession.

He lights the joint, letting it smoke for a second before raising it to his lips.

“Hey,” you whine, reaching for his hand.

“So needy,” he chides, taking a hit, gripping you by your neck, and blowing the smoke into your open mouth. Your breath hitches as you try your best to inhale, try to not think about his lips just ghosting over yours, his calloused fingers hard on the sides of your neck.

“Good girl,” he exhales as you successfully breathe in without hacking up your lungs.

The frogs are peeping and the wind is slow and soft, pushing the smoke around the two of you and enveloping you in it. You’re talking mindlessly as the joint passes between you, staring at the way moonlight shines through JJ’s hair, turning it platinum. His irises catch the light just right- bright, icy blue.

You’re sitting cross-legged, knees knocking with his. All you can think about his how much you love your boyfriend, even with the edges of your mind soft and your senses fuzzy. JJ takes your hand, pressing the pads of your fingertips against his.

“It’s like I can feel your fingerprints,” he comments, fingertips lightly rubbing yours. He pulls your hand as he leans back, so you’re both on your back, looking at the stars.

“It’s so pretty,” you whisper in awe. With absolutely zero light pollution, the sky is a myriad of deep black and blue hues and so, so many stars. You’d decompose while trying to count them all. You snuggle up against J as he takes a final hit. From your perspective, the rising smoke almost looks like it’s weaving through the stars, netting around them and sparkling right above your head. JJ tosses the remnant of the joint into your grocery bag of trash.

“C’mere,” he sighs, propping himself up and running a hand down your torso. When he kisses you, he tastes like smoke and sweat, and a wave of heat rushes through you just from the taste. You’re pulling him on top of you by the loops of his cargo shorts, pressing yourself against the firm plane of his abdomen.

“God, you’re needy,” he laughs, pinning your hips down with a heavy hand.

“You made me this way,” you squirm, and it’s true. He’s too generous with his touches and too sugary with his words, and you chase him like he’s a hit of the purest cocaine.

He shifts on top of you, a knee between your thighs just like you like it. He presses his knee up just to see you gasp and grind down on him. JJ’s laugh is a little mean as snaps the waistband of your shorts. “Okay, honey, what do you want?”

There’s no shame in your voice as you blurt out, “Fuck me.” You’re whining out a plea before he can even answer, with no care that you’re out in the open… no care that the cops patrol at night.

JJ fakes shock, but the hardness of him against you gives him away. “You wanna get fucked, huh. Out in the open?”

“Don’t act like this wasn’t your whole plan, smartass,” you counter as he pins your hands down right above your head.

He just laughs in response. “Dirty, dirty, dirty,” he tuts rebukingly, but he’s pulling apart the tie of your swimsuit top all the same.

as always, likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

#outer banks fanfiction #outer banks #jj maybank #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank smut

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felixdragonheartofficial · 8 months

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TFA TEAM PRIME HUMAN REDESIGNS FINALLY

FUCK

+headcannons

Optimus: gotta stay focused

looks too old compared to his bot form.

I find it impossible for Optimus to be more than a million years old in this canon. In the least, he's older than 1000 years and since we have mfs that are canonically over 70 million years old(fagatron iykyk) compared to that, he feels like a dude in his early-to-mid-30's being the group parent.

---

-I made him more youthful, gave him curly hair, and tailored his clothing to actually look like his bot form.

-workaholic

-on the cusp of barley being able to hold his liquor

-doesn't own a pair of pajamas until Sari gets some for him

-usually forgets to put them on, but appreciates the gesture

-stays active for like, 3 days until he can't fight off sleep with work brain anymore, and unceremoniously passes out on the couch to sleep for a full 24 hours

-ratchet sighs and puts a blanket over him as per routine

-frequently checks security feed

-elf on the shelf despiser

-early morning talks with jazz and ratchet over coffee (they all wake up at 6 am)

-half thrives on caffeine and a vigorous training protocol

-is a dog person, loves German shepherds to death

David sama, pls forgive me ily very much

Ratchet: to old for this nonsense

doesn't match his body type in the slightest.

Ratchet is really old, he's got a sallow face and a gramp gut, how dare they square him. He's wayyy too angular and peachy looking.

-I gave him his luscious curves back, adding all the equipment id expect a field medic to have because he is a field medic, not a regular doctor. I changed his facial proportions, and also made his face gaunt, for that dead inside PTSD look.

---

-drinks his coffee black with brown sugar, literally drinks it piping hot

-is one of those old people who complains about noise

-confiscates bumblebee and Sari's toy cars, and puts them in a high up cabinet

-neither of them know how to bypass the child safety lock lmao

-casual clothes includes a lot- a l o t of plaid shirts, and 10 pairs of the same blue jeans

-tunes out bulkhead and prowls convos about birdwatching

-big fan of political satire dramas

-Sentinel doesn't approve

-Ratchet doesn't give a rats ass about what he thinks of course

Bumblebee: professional smart-ass

doesn't match his body type/age.

Bumblebees holoform is presented as a 10-12 year old child specifically for the fact that he's short, and the comedic relief. Total ass

I set his human age as 19-20 years old, making him more of a big brother to sari because that og model is disappointingly lackluster

---

-Bumblebee is a scrappy wisecracking punk, like an adhd kid who just got roller skates for Christmas.

-since he doesn't have wheels, I feel like he'd wear skates instead to emulate the feeling

-terrible at watching where he's going cuz he's too busy trying to show off, so ratchet makes him wear all that padding + training wheels

-legit despises the padding and training wheels

-Jealous of Blurr for mastering roller blades lmao.

-his favorite games are choose your fighter and fps

-saw ONE ancient ass assassins creed playthrough and begged ratchet to install hidden tasers in his arm bands (was denied)

-Sari used her key to do it instead

-self appointed "rizzler"

-Optimus has zero idea of what that means and thinks it's code for something dubious

-Ratchet knows what it means and thinks it's silly

-"I' was something of a rizzler myself back in my day, kid"

-bumblebee cringes

-loves summer and swimming

-wants to be the fastest thing in the sea because y'know, it's bumblebee

-is spooked from the beach for awhile cuz he saw sharks in Prowls nature documentary

-there are infact, no sharks in lake Erie

Bulkhead: big guy, bigger heart

doesn't match his body type/aspirations.

Jesus fuck he's so wide?? And his belly migrated to his shoulders?? I'm gonna be honest, I really hate this design. I feel like it contributed to the "brute strength = stupid" take that most in the fandom associates with him.

---

-Bulkhead is a SWEET. CARING. NERD YOU FOOLS. He's like the male version of a tall goth gf-

-a tall-nerdy-farm hand-physics bf, You got me fucked up.

-Its already shown that bulkhead really likes art in Addition to creating it. He hates being only seen as the "muscle" so it wouldn't make sense for him to lean into that.

-bunny slippers that him and sari made together(she provided the buttons)

-the slippers go missing sometimes (basically considered community property unless he's wearing them)

(ratchet and prowl are the main offenders)

-frequent art museum goer

-really likes watching cooking shows, but is too shy to make food himself

-Owns a ton of star maps

-Really wants a treehouse that he, bumblebee and sari can hang out in

-pillowfort enjoyer

-casually reads quantum physics at the beach

Prowl: draft dodger

Doesn't look like him at all.

Prowls holoform being a mustachioed,white, police officer was an actual jumpscare for 7 y/o me, I kid you not

---

- I know this bitch would not wear a helmet (you can't force him to) que windswept hair

-Not as much as starscreams, for obvious reasons but yk

-prowl is like one of those "shoes are a prison for your feet"

-emo hipster

-has a pet cactus named "planty"

-bumblebee heckles him for it

-can and has brought his cactus with him on early evening motorcycle rides

-the helmet is reserved for his cactus, bring your own >:(

-salad consumer

-him and jazz share custody of the cactus

-repeat victim of the cat distribution system

-ratchet has probably spent hours telling him they can't keep any animals at base

-frequent midnight picnics with jazz

-and beachcombing

-and roaming around antique stores cuz jazz wants to know what vinyl records are

-got a mug with an attempted pink chibi cat with big round shiny eyes painted onto it, courtesy of bulkhead trying to find an artsyle

-cherishes this mug to death

-has a shrine dedicated to it

#tfa #decepticons #autobots #tfa headcanons #tfa optimus prime #tfa bulkhead #tfa bumblebee #tfa ratchet #tfa prowl #AUUUUUUGH #im gonna have a pole #optimus prime #bumblebee #bulkhead #prowl #ratchet #tfa sari #sari sumdac #sari mention

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icarusredwings · 20 days

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A snippet from a fic series im working on called

"FINDING HOME"

This comes after DOG TAGS. Scott finds Logan in the Professors old office and confronts him about it. Established Poolverine. For those who have read the Jean Grey one, this comes prior to that.

Warning: mentions of character death, cheating, emotional angst, no fluff, no happy ending, unconsentual kiss.

SCOGAN FANS COME GET YOUR FOOD

“Excuse me, you aren't supposed to be in here.” It was as if he had just woken from a dream, picking his head up as he quickly realized that the man he was once crying on was now gone. Vanished out of thin air.

I found you

I found the door

Sitting up, he wiped his tears away, sniffling.

“Why do you care? Where'd the professor go?” He asks, genuinely concerned. It's not like the paralyzed fucker could just get up and walk away. And even if he could. He wouldn't just abandon him here, alone, would he?

The man now crossing his arms scoffed.

“What kind of idiotic question is that? Really, Logan, I thought you would have grown up by now. Stopped with the stupid tricks.”

Just looking at him both pissed him off and made him want to smile. The only one who hasn't a telepath who ever dared try to question him and put him in his place time and time again. Oh, how much he's grown. His stance alone screamed “Tightwad Principal” and it seemed as if Logan had just got himself some after-school detention.

So mature. Such a prick. So… Scott. Done up with a new set of visors, a pure white button up underneath a tacky sweater vest that somehow only ever looked good on him. A pair of ironed brown slacks, shiny black shoes, stupid checkered socks. He even had a school pen in his pocket and a yellow tie. So professional, it made him want to rip it all off of him with his bare teeth and then shred it all so he could never make him feel the way he felt in his stomach ever again.

“Look at you.. finally reached the top, haven't cha?” He muttered under his breath, standing as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

“What?? Logan, are you drunk or something? You know there's no outside alcohol on school grounds.” he started but the man wasn't listening at all. God He even smelled like a nerd. Fresh dry cleaning, a cucumber lather shampoo, and a soft hint of Lavender linen.

“What me? No no, I uhm.. I'm sober now…So where is he?”

“Who?” He seemed frustrated.

“The old man. Chuck. Wheels.” He gestured to the chair, looking around the room. Man, maybe they should hire a maid. This place was so dusty.

Scott swallowed, looking away, to the picture up on the wall of multiple classes. “..Gone.”

“Hm. Well. You know what they say. When teach is away the students will play. Heh, right?” He nudged him with his elbow but he only looked at him with slight disgust.

“You dare come into a deadmans office just to joke about him? Tch. You didn't change a bit, did you?” He grumbled.

Logan's eyes widened, his frown returning, but didn't last long.

“Heh… Ha! Good one, Slim! Yeah real funny, I deserve it, but really. Where is he? I wasn't done talking to him.” He leaned on his shoulder, smirking, only to be pushed off.

“None of us were…”

It was at this moment, it hit him.

“What..? H-how!? I was just- He was just-”

Logan had just gotten Charles back, and now he was being told that he- what? Hallucinated his entire conversation with him? Saw a ghost?? No. That isn't right. He felt him touch him. He pet his head and told him he missed him...

But when I stepped through

There was no floor

“He's been gone for a little under a year now, Logan. If you would have shown up to the funeral you would have known that.”

“What? But I-” He's only been in this timeline for about 8 and a half months. “Oh- I… did Hank not tell you? I'm not from this timeline. So.. I thought..”

“You thought since your Professor was still alive, ours would be… Yeah.. I realize that now. Sorry.” The scent of Sand filled the air.

“Right.. except-" His charles was dead too. Perhaps he dreamt it? "Erm nevermind.… So.. How have things been? With the school? It's obvious someone got a big promotion. From teacher's pet to principal, Yeah?” He poked fun at him, something they've always done to each other.

Scott took a deep breath, smiling. Closing the door behind him as he stepped further in to observe the photos on the wall.

“Hard… But we're getting there. Baby steps. Every day we get another problem, another fight that we have to win. Another person trying to bring us down on the news.” Picking up one of the photos, he rubbed over it to expose young faces, blowing the dust away.

Logan smirked, staring at him for a moment.

“You sound just like him.”

“Tch. Yeah right. If I sounded at least half like him, I'd be a way better at convincing kids to stop breaking things or play the floor is lava with actual lava instead of just pretending….and stabbing each other for fun” This last part was trailed off, Glancing at him as if implying for a reason Logan was unaware, it was his fault.

“Oh man! That sounds rough.” He could only imagine trying to deal with a whole school of kids melting the furniture. He hoped the school nurse had a great healing power if he was implying what he thought he was implying. That Laura came here.

“Yeah… would be nice if we could get some extra help..someone…experienced.” Scott didn't move his head, but Logan could tell he was looking at him from the corner of his eyes.

“Like… me?” Logan asks, just now realizing how close they were. Close enough to-

Before he could even react, Scott kissed him. His hand coming behind his head, gripping the back of his head. Setting down the picture, his hand came to logans, about to rub over his knuckle, only to pull away when the claws came out.

Panting a bit, he stared at him, wiping his mouth off as he glared. “What the fuck did you do that for!?”

Holding his arm, Logan had scratched the button up just enough to make small holes in his arm. “What are YOU doing? Are you trying to stab me!?”

“No!- maybe? I-i don't know! Why did you do that?!” He asked again, almost whining. Why now? After all these years, a whole different timeline even, why now!? What was he going to tell Wade?

“Logan, You're coming back. After all these years you're finally coming home. There must be a reason. Right? It's like you said. You even jumped timelines to do it.”

You're coming back

And it's the end of the world

Staring at him in disbelief, Logan shook his head. “You really think…” Starting to chuckle, He put his head In his hand only to groan, looking at him as if he were the insane one.

“You really think.. that I jumped a whole timeline just so you could kiss me in a forbidden corridor? Again!? Summers, I just saved this entire universe! I'm the reason all of this is even still standing!” He growled, watching him step forward, calling his bluff.

Retracting the claws, it was like watching someone take a confident step towards an aggressive dog, only to watch its tail tuck and his ears flatten, licking its lips as it turns away.

“And I'm so proud of you for that.” He whispered.

If he had one, that tucked tail would start to wag at the bottom, a soft grin appearing, quickly shaken off as he turned around. “No- no. We've been through this before. A whole different you. It's just the same. Hell, I don't even know you!”

Moving to stand where his gaze was, Scott whispered. “Yes you do. We both do.”

Thick vanilla cream. A hint of fresh baked buns. The truth. A pure, filling truth.

Logan's eyes softened as he thought. He hated it but he was right. As much as he wanted to deny it, he would stink of gasoline if he said he wasn't thinking about him on the way up here. If he was okay, how much of a kiss ass he used to be (and still was). If this Timelines Wolverine had the same struggles that he did so long ago. And apparently this one was worse. He never even got a kiss from his own Scott.

“No.. I don't. I knew MY scott. I don't know you…I don't know THIS Scott summers.”

But this Scott? He seemed more than eager to see him again. How long has it been? What things were said? What promises were made? How many times did he lie to Jean just to sneak into his room at night? Oh man, Jean.. He couldn't do this again. Not to her, not to anyone. It wasn't fair for him. It wasn't fair period. For either of them. Scott always was the controlling type. Everything in their correct spots and perfectly aligned.

Unfortunately for Logan, relationships were nothing but messy. Always messy. But sometimes messy could be fun when loyalty was always put first. It seems Scott never got the memo.

Shaking his head again, Logan Pushed him away, as tempting as it was to show that man how a real kiss was done, he didn't want to give him any idea that there was hope for them.

“Well then let's start over.” Shifting his weight, he did that stupid little smirk that made Logan want to bite him. Putting his hand out for him to shake, the other went to his pocket.

“Hello. I'm Scott. Scott Summers.”

We're starting over

The cockiness in his voice made his knees want to buckle. To sit on that floor- perhaps even under the professor's desk and- No. No no no. Bad Logan! Bad!

Pulling his hand away. “Sorry Bub. Not happening… I'm getting married. And you-” He poked him in the chest quite hard. “Are already married.” He crossed his arms. “And you really should tell your wife. If I know Jean, she has already seen it and just doesn't want to believe it.”

“Don't talk about our marriage. You don't know anything about it. You don't know anything about real relationships to begin with! All you know is shutting people out and what the bottom of a bottle looks like.” He grumbled, fist tightening.

Logan almost wished he'd hit him just so he had a reason to claw him to pieces… though.. he did admire how rude he was to him.. Hopefully, it had something to do psychologically with pack hiarchy and not a weird sexual thing… but now that he thought about it.. he had quite the type.

“What do you see in him anyway?”

It was clear he touched a nerve. That easily? The man who used to be able to take a hundred insults without even blinking, insecure about his coverup of a marriage. Glaring, Logan gave him a glare that practically begged him to say something about Wade, tripple dog daring him to open his mouth just enough so he could shove a fist in it.

“...He makes me laugh…”

“I can do that-”

“No…No you can't. Not like him, you can't.”

But he continued. “b-Besides. It can be our little secret. Like old times. Remember? You used to love sneaking around.”

“No. I didn't…”

“But It was your idea!”

“We were kids, Scott. Kids! This is serious. Real life. You're married. I'm engaged. That's the end of it. God, you're just like him!” Logan began pacing in circles like a caged animal in the wild, being released only to come right back to the same enclosure.

“Everything revolves around you and your perfect reputation! Do you ever think- Just for A second that maybe that was the only way I knew I'd ever get to have you!? You just couldn't choose me over your made up bullshit, could you? I-” by now he was pointing at him, hurt and angry tears in his eyes. Swallowing, he wouldn't give him the satisfaction of a voice crack.

“It's not like you didn't hear me say ‘I love you’!.. and I swear I still do.. But it must have been so bad without me because it almost killed you! All of you! And yet you're not sorry. You'll never be sorry for how you treated me all those years!”

And I love you darling

And I am done here

“But I am-”

“No Scott!! You're not!” He growls, not needing his smell to know that this was a lie. He would do it all again if he let him.

“I should have known it wasn't like you to say sorry, But here I am! A fool! Waiting on a different story! I thought this timeline's you would be better but God was I mistaken!! Sorry that clawing out my own heart and handing it to you on a silver platter wasn't good enough for ya, Bub.”

He now pointed at himself. “And now… Now! All these years later. I finally found someone who WILL take care of it. Who will protect if from assholes like you who want to play with it. What am I huh? A toy? Well guess what Scott?!”

Scott sighed, waiting a second as he processed everything he said before shrugging his shoulders. “Are you going to tell me I'm a horrible person because I have feelings I can't understand?”

Logan scoffed, smirking as air blew out of his nose, beginning to chuckle. “No… No no no no, see because if it was just that you would have told your wife already. It's far more then that. You want both but you don't want to share either. Hate to tell ya buddy but i'm not gonna be a steak for you to chew on whenever you get tired of your cake.”

Again he shakes his head. But smiled, his eyes staring into his soul through the visors, inches away from his face. “Because you know what Scott? I do have something to thank you for.

“Thank me? For what?” His head didn't bother move, seeing how worked up he was, moving quickly was a death wish, but he wasn't afraid. Oh no, never. He could never be afraid of him.

“Thanks for reminding me of who I am! Go on! Ask what I mean by that, One-eye.” This word was venomous despite Wolverines having none, Logan made It work.

Another sigh, upset and disappointed, feeling miserable. “..And what is that, Logan?”

“A loyal husband!” He turned to leave. “I'm done here. Goodbye Scott. I was really hoping this time things would be different but you're just an oversized boyscout in this universe too, Aren't Cha? You don't love me. You never have. And after all this time. You haven't changed at all!”

“Wait! Logan I-”

“You don't deserve her! You never did. Probably never will.” He always did need the final word..

“But I love-!”

The door slammed shut.

“... you..”

You're in the house

And I am here in the car

Logan was angry. Hurt. Sad. Confused. Guilty. Was there a word that meant a swirling tornado of feelings that he couldn't control or handle?

Wiping his tears, Logan came down the stairs in a hurry, sniffling as he rushed past anyone who even tried to say his name. Here he was. Tucking and running. He promised he wouldn't but he needed it. He needed to hide. He needed something he could hit and scream at without hurting anyone.

Getting the keys out, he tugged on the door handle multiple times, cursing under his breath as hot tears flooded his face. Finally getting it open, he climbed into the front seat, turning on the radio high enough to drowned out the sound of a man sobbing.

I just need a quiet place

Where I can scream

Gripping the wheel between his hands, he grit his teeth, heaving as he began to hit the steering wheel of their old truck, shaking it as he screamed. Slowly, it died down into more of a whimper. A mewl of desperation as he laid his head on the wheel, letting his tears fall. He was so angry and yet.. had no rage.

Just saltiness in the air as it began to rain, the trickling noises of the rain hitting the top of the car making a symphony of water droplets to cover up the sound of those that were falling inside the car.

How much I love…

Still standing in that office, Alone, Scott looked at the picture again, remembering that day of when he and Logan first met. No.. he was never afraid that he'd hurt him. Not physically anyway.. never caring about his sharp remarks and their childish banter. A tear fell onto the glass, landing directly on his much younger but never clean shaven face.

The only thing he was ever afraid of…

Was losing him.

..You.

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gracieheartspedro · 1 year

Text

I Can See You

fem!reader x dbf!joel miller

Hi friends! It's been awhile (:

I am back to writing! This time, I'm planning on having many parts to this story. It's a DBF Joel Miller story, which I love to read, which means I had to write it, right?

I wrote this with no Y/N, instead each character gives her a nickname/pet name.

So here's Part 1, I really hope you enjoy!

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: DBF! Joel, age gap-ish (reader is 25, Joel is 39), eventual smut, joel being a little bit of a perv, reader not having a filter, alcohol consumption

“Mornin’,” His Southern accent was even deeper than usual. My head peaks up from behind my computer, noticing his very tired eyes. The bags under his eyes still somehow did him justice.

“Mornin’ Joel,” I mutter before taking a sip of my coffee. I watch as he finds his way towards my bosses office. He was only my boss at work, but at home he was just Dad.

I watch his ass move in his jeans, shamelessly.

Finding your coworker hot is one thing, it’s another when it’s also your dad’s friend and he was about 20 years older than you.

I’ve thought Joel Miller was quite the looker since I was about 18. I had just started working for my dad. I was mainly just scheduling and doing work orders. Joel took me out to a work site one day, on my father’s request. He wanted me to get know some of the people who would be scheduling work from us. I got to sit around with the property manager of an apartment complex in a tight black dress in the dead of summer, watching guys replace windows. While outside that day, Joel worked alongside some of the laborers, his tanned skin and shaggy dark hair glistening with sweat. Something about him doing manual labor turned me on. Something awoke in me that day, and ever since then, I thirst over him in silence.

I catch myself looking a bit too long, quickly averting my eyes to my computer screen. I act like I am typing something, glancing over to Joel and my dad walking out of his office together. They are discussing another project that Joel was overseeing that would keep him very busy in the upcoming months.

“My girl here will be starting back at college in the fall, so she will only be part time for awhile,” My dad says, drawing attention to me.

“Oh really, where ya going?”

I blank out completely for a moment.

“UT Austin,�� I finally answer.

“Smart girl, you living on campus?”

“Nope, just getting my master’s in Engineering so living from home makes the most sense.”

Joel shakes his head, “Master’s. Didn’t you just graduate high school?”

“I’m 25, Joel.”

His eyes scan me for a moment, realizing I’m much older than he remembers.

“Ha,” He grumbles, “Time flies huh, Steve?”

“Sure does, you just wait for that Sarah of yours is off to college,” My dad laughs, slapping Joel’s shoulder. I wince, realizing again he has a young daughter. It wasn’t ideal, to say the least.

“We got about 5 years on that,” Joel says, his eyes returning to mine, “Well it’ll be nice havin’ you around during our busy season.”

“Happy to help,” I reply, not really meaning it.

“Hey, Joel, you and Sarah making an appearance at our BBQ this weekend? We invited the whole neighborhood and I can’t remember if you told me you’d be there.”

His eyes are still on me, “Yeah, I’ll be there,” his eyes return to my dad’s, “Just me and Tommy though, Sarah is goin’ over to a friend’s house.”

“Can’t wait!” My dad cheers, “Baby girl, can you make sure my schedule is cleared Friday evening so I don’t have to worry about when I can get the meat?”

“Of course, dad,” I grit my teeth, “I’m on it.”

“Hey baby girl, can you go grab me some extra plates?”

My dad was over the top with his BBQs to say the very least. The whole neighborhood was in on it. Steaks, burgers, hot dogs, chicken, the whole thing. I spent all morning getting the huge backyard and cabana ready for all our visitors. We usually had someone come over to do all the setting up, but Dad made sure to remind me that I was living rent free and being paid on his payroll, so setting up was the least I could do.

People littered the pool and backyard. I weave between people, giving smiles and welcomes where I could.

I walk in to the kitchen, the cold AC air hitting my bare arms. Luckily, I was wearing shorts over my bikini shorts, or else the goose bumps would be up and down my legs, too. I begin searching the cabinets for the large serving plates you always used for big gatherings. Leaning down, my triangle bikini top almost lets my boobs loose. I sit up straight, messing with the knots on my back. I knew tightening it could only help so much.

“Need help?” I almost jump out of my skin. I turn quickly, spotting Joel Miller standing in the kitchen with me.

“Shit, you fucking scared me,” I breathe loudly, patting my chest to make my heart stop racing, “I think I can get it.”

“Mhm,” He sticks a tooth pick between his teeth, “Lemme help, girl.”

God he was so fine. I hated myself for having a crush on him. But the domestic and simple gray t-shirt that hugged his arms so well and the blue jeans? I simply could not resist staring.

No chance in hell. But I got to look at him every day and imagine it.

I turn on my heels, holding the ties out to him so he could tie them.

“I need them tighter,” I mutter, “Don’t want these puppies falling out in front of the Adlers.”

“Don’t want to excite Mr. Adler too much, he may have himself a heart attack.”

I smile to myself, biting my lip. He ties it, his fingers grazing my bare back slightly.

“All good now, girl,” I turn to face him, looking up at him through my eyelashes, “Now what were you lookin’ for?”

“Serving plates,” I explain, “Dad is finishing up those steaks, needs more space.”

“Well let’s get ‘em and head out to all the fun,” He says, ducking down to the cabinet I was looking in originally. He finds them, handing them up to me. He looks so good looking up at me from this angle.

“You want to grab us some beers,” I suggest, “I’ll meet you out there?”

“Your dad runnin’ low?”

“Probably, so grab three.”

–

“So, you going to be here all summer?”

I had no interest in talking to Tommy, but he was keeping me from toeing the line with Joel in my drunken state, so here I am. I sit in my lounger chair, wanting so bad to take off my jean shorts. I knew if I did, Tommy would take it as I’m making a pass, so I sweat extra.

“I’m starting college in August, so yeah I’ll be around the office and staying home.”

He smiles, “Good to hear, love seeing you around.”

I smile back faking a cheery laugh, “Thanks, Tommy… care to grab me another beer?”

“No problem, sweetheart.”

I watch him walk away before searching the crowd for Joel. I spot him across the yard, talking to one of the newer neighbors. A single mom who moved in two months ago. My dad kept joking the other night that he’d be making her my stepmom, which only made me gag. She was beautiful, younger than my dad, but just about Joel’s age.

A pang of jealousy rises within me.

Joel finally catches my wandering eyes. He smiles gently, giving me a nod.

“Here, darling,” Tommy says sweetly, “Need anything else?”

“Yeah, actually,” Your brother, “Can you help me with something?”

“Sure, ‘s up?”

I sit up, leaning over making my boobs hang right in his eye line.

If I couldn’t keep one Miller’s attention, maybe I could snag second best. My beer filled brain thinks about how they are cut from the same cloth, so they both are probably good at this.

“Do you want to help me change a lightbulb?”

He raises his eyebrows, “I guess, where at?”

I smirk, “My bedroom.”

We sneak away, my eyes scanning the area. It didn’t appear as anyone was following us. My room was the last room on the left upstairs, so the anticipation as I guided him down the hallway was killing me.

Ever since Joel grazed my back earlier, I’ve been ready. So fucking ready.

“Are we actually changing a lightbulb?”

I open my door for him, gesturing to him to follow me in.

In the dim light, Tommy was very cute. He was a sweet guy and I knew he’d be the first to jump on my idea.

“You tell me,” I say, starting to untie the knot Joel tied. In my moment of trying to be sexy, I realize Joel tied the stupidest and hardest knot ever. Tommy notices my struggle, reaching around me, frantically trying to get the top off.

As it gets loose, I reach up to grab his neck.

“What the fuck is going on ‘ere?”

His voice freezes me. Tommy looks towards the door in horror.

“Joel-“

“Tommy, you fucking know better,” His voice is so intimidating and scary, I cant even muster the courage to turn around, “Git.”

Tommy gives me eyes saying I’m so sorry, and I just stare blankly at my wall. I hear Tommy’s foot steps run down the stairs. I realize how drunk I am because my wall paper begins to move on it’s own. It doesn’t usually do that.

“Now you,” His stride towards me is quick, “I’m not your Dad, but don’t think he’d like you fucking his employees.”

Maybe it was the liquid courage, “Who said I was trying to fuck him?”

I snap my head towards his stern and impossible to read face.

“Bullshit,” He spits, “He got through my knot, he assumed somethin’ was about to happen.”

“Well, even if that’s where it went, why are you putting your nose in our business?”

He chuckles darkly, “So now it’s ours, huh? I have you know, girl, Tommy’s business is my business. And you’re just makin’ my job hard.”

I tiptoe closer to him, “And what’s your job, again, Mr. Miller?”

“Make sure people are behavin’ themselves.”

I realize what he’s doing. My tipsy mind took a second to search his face for more, but I can't read him at all.

“I’m behaving, Mr. Miller. I promise,” I reach up, touching his jaw, “No more funny business.”

It was the closest I had ever got to him. I felt a rush just touching him.

“Good, get your top back on and come down to the party. Your dad is looking for you.”

I look down at myself as he leaves the room. My fucking tits are out, and he didn’t even look down.

The game he was playing was not the same one I was playing.

–

The next morning, I have a pounding headache and no drive to leave my room. I was embarrassed and horrified. I knew I would have to face Joel and Tommy on Monday morning, so I had to make amends beforehand. I really didn’t want them to tell my dad and I was pretty out of line for trying to fuck Tommy when Joel wasn't giving me the attention my drunk ass thought I deserved.

After spending hours in bed, rolling back and forth thinking of a script to say, I figured that honesty is the best policy.

Well, honesty with a little bend in the truth.

I get showered and dressed. My usual summer time outfit was a crop top and short shorts, but today I needed to be more… conservative.

I find a nice summery dress, that went to midthigh. It was yellow, not a lot cleavage, floral. Innocent.

When I get downstairs, my dad sits in the living room, his feet propped up watching the news.

“Where ya going, baby girl?”

“I’m going for a walk,” I lie.

“Wearing that?”

“Yes,” I nod quickly, “Do you need anything while I’m out?”

He shakes his head, “No, have fun, I guess.”

I could tell he was suspicious, but he wasn’t one to pester me too much. He had high expectations for me, but I always exceeded them. He never questioned me too much, unless it was about school. He didn’t even really care about my love life. He always got excited when I told him I was going on dates in college. I mean, I rather him be excited than bother me about the guys I was seeing.

I start my journey to Joel’s. I didn’t even know if he was home or not, I was going on blind faith.

It was hot as shit and I was not fully prepared to walk to his house in a dress and sandals.

I could’ve just driven there and back. But no, I decided to roast in the hot summer sun.

–

When I arrive to his house, I just kind of stand in his driveway, catching my breath. He was home, his truck was here.

I walk to the front door, knocking first then ringing the door bell.

It takes about minute, but he gets the door.

And he’s shirtless.

It was the worst and best moment of my entire life.

“What are you doing here?”

And it’s not quite the response I was anticipating when I arrived at his door.

“I uh-,” I hear some stirring inside the house, which causes me to peak my head past Joel’s shoulder.

I see movement, but my eyes find Joel’s again before I could focus in on it. He pushes me back a bit, coming outside and shutting the door behind him.

“I came to apologize, but you seem busy.”

He shakes his head, “Not busy, just woke up.”

“With someone?”

What the fuck? Why can’t I shut my mouth?

“Pardon me?”

“Well I walked this whole way to apologize about my inappropriate behavior yesterday,” I explain, “But yeah, that’s it.”

The door creaks open and I am wholeheartedly anticipating a hot MILF or something. But instead, it’s a little girl.

“Sarah, get inside!”

“Oh hi, I know you!”

I smile at the girl. She was cute, I had to admit. She looked a bit like Joel, mainly the smile. A smile I wasn’t too familiar with, because he wasn’t too keen on my jokes. Ever.

“Yeah, I work with your dad,” I explain, “Nice to see you, Sarah.”

“You too, do you want to have lunch with us?”

“Sarah she can’t st-”

“I’d love to, only if your dad says it’s okay.”

He got himself in a pickle, but I was aching to have a conversation that didn’t involve me putting my foot in my mouth like I almost did again. Plus, some food and water would help the heatstroke I felt coming on.

He stares at me, almost like he wished I’d disappear, “Of course, come in. Sarah is making sandwiches.”

“I hope you like turkey and cheese!”

—

“Thanks for the sandwich, Sarah,” I say, wiping my face making sure I didn’t have mustard left over.

She smiles with her mouth full, “You’re welcome!”

“Hey Sarah, why don’t you go get ready for swim practice,” He suggests, “Me and your new best friend need to have an adult conversation.”

She looks up at him annoyed, “I guess, but don’t scare her away. She has a cool pool I want to swim in.”

I laugh out loud, “Yeah, don’t scare me away, Joel.”

He doesn’t laugh, he just looks at me with his lazer eyes. I just wish Sarah a farewell and shut my mouth, waiting for the storm. He stirs, eating another bite of his sandwich.

“So you came to apologize, huh?”

I swallow, “Uh, yeah. I’m sorry for my inappropriate behavior. I had one too many yesterday.”

He nods, “Yeah you were practically falling out of that top of yours before you took Tommy upstairs. Surprised you didn’t have it off before then.”

My eyes widen, “Well that’s humiliating.”

“Don’t think anyone was particularly mad about it,” He says, “Maybe one of those neighborhood watch moms, but who cares about ‘em?”

I can’t help but smirk. Was he insinuating that he wasn’t mad about almost seeing my boobs?

“Yeah, they always give me the most disgusted looks when I’m out jogging.”

“Cause’ they miss bein’ young and beautiful,” He explains, “All their husbands stare, too.”

I can’t believe he’s talking to me like this, I find myself leaning in a bit to try to talk quieter. It seems like this is conversation we should be whispering to each other.

“Do you stare?”

Foot. In. Mouth.

He smirks, giggling a bit. I finally got to see him smile.

“Of course, I do.”

----

Hehehehe tell me what you think! I'll be back with part 2 soon!

#Joel Miller #Joel miller x reader #The last of us #Joel x reader #joel miller smut #dbf joel miller #age gap joel miller

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jaywalkers · 3 months

Note

hi róisín, since ur in med, i was wondering : is aftg v medically accurate ?

hihi! i'll preface with that i'm not a med student, i'm a final year paramedic student, but i think my scope and areas of practice fit the antics the foxes get into in aftg enough to comment on it!

i won't talk on aftg's take on medications, antipsychotics or otherwise, because a lot of other lovely people who are far more educated on the topic have written about it! when it comes to aftg's treatment of injuries, though, i do have some things to say.

i'm going to tee up a couple of examples of frontline medical treatment in aftg and make some comments on them! granted they're very messy, but i hope they're understandable enough.

from the best, to the worst:

kevin's hand

i don't think it's unfeasible that kevin was back to playing capacity two years after his injury happened — while i think that his hand was probably severely fractured, and there was likely different fingers involved too, with good surgical intervention (which he was likely able to access) hand fractures, even complex ones, can be healed enough in 4-6 months.

the ligament injuries would be the more pertinent, and i think those would be the more pressing concern for him outside of the healed bones, considering ligament injuries can cause chronic issues not limited to pain. i would be surprised if abby was the sole medical provider for the foxes, because while she does appear to be a well-rounded sports nurse, kevin probably would have needed to work with a dedicated physiotherapist and/or a hand specialist to get the use of his hand semi-back to normal.

other questions abt kevin's medical problems? please observe here

2. neil's wounds post baltimore

when it comes to how these wounds are treated by medical staff, i have no concerns. the hospital neil is brought to by the FBI seems to have treated the wounds well and left him to sleep off any negative follow-on effects from the chloroform. the only thing i have qualms with is the implication from the hotel scene that the hospital has put an adhesive dressing over neil's burn on his cheek, which is a big no in wound-dressing — burned skin is very delicate, and adhesives can damage or rip it away with removal. it's why we use glad-wrap in the prehsopital setting for burns, because it's sterile and not sticky!

abby, when she gets her hands on neil, changes the bandages so the wounds can be visualised and aired out, cleans them again, and then re-dresses them cleanly. i have no issues here.

when it comes to how these wounds are treated by andrew, i have only this text from my brother when he first read the series a couple of years ago

throughout the series, including post-nest, andrew is constantly getting his grubby little mitts in neils fresh wounds. he should not be doing that. in particular in the hotel scene he peels away the adhesive dressing over a burn which is just a recipe for tissue-loss, severe pain, and increased risk of infection. i don't know how abby didn't scream because i would have.

just andrew. in general. yikes, my dude. don't do that.

3. jean

jean. he is the kicked dog of this series and i genuinely don't know how he was alive at the start of the book series, let alone at the end. at the start of the series, he has (according to the EC) experienced not only numerous fractures to various bones, but has had two incidences where he 'bashed his head open on the concrete', and needed 266 stitches total. also ten incidences of waterboarding.

if we break this down: that's two major head injuries, multiple incidences of significant amounts of blood loss, and ten incidences of asphyxial peri-arrest events.

it's further implied by both the novels and the extra content that jean was not given time to heal from these injuries, and instead had to play games. add to that the hours of the nest and the living conditions, and i actually cannot fathom how jean was not yet dead, by either a single incident or the culmination of many. exy is a contact sport. those head injuries, plus an accidental shoulder-check into the plexiglass could have, and should have killed him.

i'm glad he didn't. i think it's important that he didn't. but it is a miracle of biology and the sanctity of his cerebral blood vessels that he stays alive to the end of the books.

---

anyway i hope this all makes a bit of sense! im writing this half-mad with eight hours until my last exam for my 2nd to last semester so i'm running on energy drinks and way too much memorisation work of how benzos work. thank you for the question! and as always, please field more my way i LOVE this stuff.

#tfc #aftg #asks+answers #aughhh this was fun

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jackiequick · 5 months

Text

A Visit From An Old Friend — [ Marvel Fanfic]

Summary: What happens when an old friend comes to visit to recruit something bigger than himself? In other words, a small family reunion between friends, with a couple of ants crawling around.

Platonic Pairing: Hank Pym & Jason Underwood

Characters featured/mentioned: The Young Avengers, Janet Van Dyne, Liz Stark, Howard Stark, Scott Lang, Hope Van Dyne and etc.

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Ant-Man (2015)

Fic type: Short Blurb

Small warning: Some fluff and angst

----

The daylights were in full swing, the radio was high and bright as he drove down the road to a old house he used to call home. At the steps of the house stood a man he hasn't seen in the late 80s but never forgotten.

Above the steps stood the man with dark rich blonde curls spiked in a nicely manner, a blue colored shirt and black James Dean jeans wearing a pair of shades himself. He sipping on a cup of coffee with a half smile to boot.

He parked the car in the east side of the parkway as he existed the vehicle, flipping the keys in hand and removed his sunglasses with a smile.

As he took towards the step he heard the man said, "Hank."

"JJ." He replied, as he was handed a cup of warm coffee.

"What was the reason for this visit?"

"You got my email didn't you?"

"Yup."

"You missed seeing Hope."

"It was an 8 hour drive! You know how hard it was to get out of that house without Felton and Rei breathing down my neck?"

"This is why I stopped babysitting."

The blonde just playfully glared following the older one into his old home. Jason hasn't been in this house of his in more than a century, having took time to take care of his older one in Malibu. Yet, he never had the heart to throw away the keys, so instead he gave them to Hank. And by god, was he glad he did.

His old home was kept nice and cleaned, some mess here and there. A few dust particles in certain smaller areas but other than that it was fine. Keeping its cozy yet vintage style. Hank sat down on the grey couch that used to be a dark brown, sipping his second morning coffee taking in the moment of peace. Jason sat in the armchair beside him closing his eyes.

Neither man had to say a word to know that they missed the peace and quiet this house brought. No screaming children, calls from SHIELD, nor nagging neighbors trying to get you to babysit their dumb dog for the weekend. Just a moment of total silence from the world around them.

Yes, truth be told, after 1989 Hank was never seen again towards SHIELD's main offices due to his stupid fallout with Howard and the others. But he often kept in touch with people like him or Peggy, whenever possible. Mainly because Hope wanted to see her aunts and uncles, and after Janet's passing Hank couldn't deprive his daughter from not having any closer family or friends around.

Jason tended to be his go-to person whenever he needed a quick babysitter for Hope, whenever the blonde was in town and he happily said yes. He first thought Hank would want nothing to do with him after what Howard pulled on the man, but after a small debate on that very day both men realized they couldn't hold grudges against each other.

They already had too many grudges over their heads to even count, why add another? It would only lead to a bigger headache anyways.

So over the years, Hank and Jason would put aside a small time to check in on one another. Make sure the other man wasn't dead yet. It was a running joke on who would die first out of the two. But at this rate, knowing the people in their lives, they won't let them get bury in the ground so easily.

Yet.

He peaked an eye open as he rested his head and asked, "JJ? You got what I sent you?"

The others eyes were still closed as he hummed, "Yeah. I sent the small package and if I'm correct, it will be brought though word of mouth soon enough."

"Good. I hope this guys is worth it. If he's smart enough, he will do as I planned."

"Why Scott Lang anyway? I gave you a list of people you can choose from and you chose him..."

"Scott Lang broke into Vistacorp Headquarters to pay back the money VistaCorp had been stealing from their users, before he brought into prison. Heard of it?"

"Yeah, he pulled strong a stunt risking to pay back all that money they took. According to the file, he has a master degree in electrical engineering, which gave him the skills to hack into their grid."

Hank smirked, "That's why I need him. He has a special set of skills as a hacker and thief. I want to test him, see if he's able to play the game right."

"If he can break into the lock and steal the suit, then he was a right fit." Jason added with a grin, "..he also has a daughter Hank. You know better than anyone the length you would go to see your kid. Chances are, he ends up in jail again."

"He won't."

"Hank."

"I have a plan. Trust me on this one."

"And I'll be here to say 'I told you so' when it goes sideways."

The two crack a chuckle knowing it was bound to happen whether they liked it or not. But if the plan does end up going sideways, they always had other ways of doing things. Even if it meant going undercover to bait Scott Lang into the older man's plan. Both spent the rest of the day catching up, watching some tv and grabbing a bite to eat.

None of the Young Avengers knew that Jason was gone for a short couple of days. Well, some of them noticed as he has been receiving calls from a few thought the day. Mainly ones from Rei, Liane, Rochelle, Ji-Hoon, Lydia and even Wanda. Hank commented how he was still amazed he hasn't lost his head yet.

"Who said I haven't?" Jason joked with a small chuckle.

"Who's watching them?" He asked in returning smiling.

"Elizabeth, Nat and Bruce. I hope."

"Oh dear god. Now, I gotta know, who's the hardest to watch over?"

"Depends on the day. Rei is the easiest at most, Rochelle is rather shy and hangs out with her friends..but Liane.."

"Felton's what? Oh. You can't lie to me, and not say Rei Stark doesn't turn your gears one bit."

"Rei does make me question my life choices, but I love him to death. Felton, she is a handful and a total bitch at times. It's why I always hand her off to Hill to taken care of. I need my silence."

That caused Hank to snort and laugh. He knew the man was too polite to say anything to harsh per say, not knowing who's around to hear him but if possible he will let a rip.

"Now that's the Jason I know, call it how it is!" He shouted as he tossed a chip into his mouth, "Half of them ain't even your kids."

The blonde smirked nodding, knowing the grey man's words to be truth. There are good couple of them aren't his legally or even raised them from childhood, but a part of him does care. Even if he wants to shut up half the time.

Hell, even the ants joined in on the fun. They are 247 of them after all, the ants were bound to make their appearance in carrying items around and or, helping them with alerting any incoming news on the heist they were waiting to happen.

--------

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

Later on, that very night they went to the basement as they turned on the lights to reveal a high tech level of security cameras, microphones and chairs laying around. It was linked up to whatever humanity possible can find, in this case, the ants.

They watched Scott break into his house, as Hank seemed impressed by his work giving Jason a couple of approved nods, as they kept rolling the tape. The handy work, the levels of patience and precision Scott Lang had was amazing. His quick thinking and ways he moved around the area at quick speed was something he could only imagine to do when he was back in the 40s. Hank used to think and move that fast in the late 80s. More or less.

Without a better matter of minutes he took the suit and ran. They spend the better part of the next day, watching Scott and see what he would do.

That he was expandable. And that he was. Jason chocked out a laugh at how freaked out he was as Hank talked into the coms. Sadly of course, the moment he returned the suit, he was caught red handed by the cops.

It was Hope's doing. She didn't know much about the man or the fact that he had a track record he was trying to maintain. Which led Hank to toss a pair of suits over to Jason, telling him it's time to lawyer up, as the man rolled his eyes at his friend.

Once they were in the prison, Scott Lang was brought into a room confused more the most part, not understanding who they were. He didn't know about the fact that he had a lawyer watching after him. They told him second chances don't always come easily, especially for men like him, next time he gets one, he should take a closer look onto what it is. And he's smart enough, he will listen to them.

Thankfully he did, as Hank ordered the ants to get Scott escape the jail cell and be brought home that night. However the man got dizzy and past out, resulting him to be knocked out cold in one the guest bedrooms of the house.

Hank's house, since he had more tech and landscape to work around than Jason did. As they waited for him to wake up, the blonde went out grab some more supplies and food. He was hungry.

When he returned home with the items needed, entering quietly through the front door he heard it. Hope was here. He should've known she would've made an appearance at some point.

"Please tell me you didn't call JJ." She said looking at her father with her arms crossed.

"I didn't call JJ." Her father responded with a sigh, trying to enjoy his tea.

"He is busy right now."

"I didn't call him."

She pointed to the brown leather jacket that was on the chair beside her. The one she gave the blonde years ago for a birthday present when she was in high school. Her father said he was borrowing it from the man's closet when he went to check on his home.

"You liar. Like always. Just say that you did." Hope remarked.

Hank groaned, "I emailed him."

"You tipped him. Dragging his ass here, for what? I can handle the mission myself!"

"No, you can't! He needed one-"

"You never listen to me!"

"Hope!"

She looked over her shoulder at face the voice who called out her name like an old memory. Only to find her uncle standing there with a stern look on his face, his usual cheeky grin was exchanged for a pair of lined smile and frustrated eyes that glared into her soul. He made her feel like a child again, getting in trouble for yelling at her father or running away from school grounds to play with her friends.

She looked down, feeling less than, muttering a soft 'sorry' in his direction as he simply nodded. He shook his head and sighed at his niece. He hated seeing them fight, he knew they had their reasons but she walked away a long time ago, just to prove a point to her father that she was worth it. And she already was.

"I didn't know..I uh, would've liked a heads up that you were coming..." She admitted for being silent for a moment.

He placed the bag of groceries on the table as he gave her a small half smile, "I know..but I knew you would've said otherwise and convince me to stay home."

"You don't have to be here. I can handle this."

"I know. But I'm here now, it's not like I'm going to waste a long drive just to be stuck at home listening to ABBA on the radio."

"Still. You should've-"

"Hope. Just don't. What's done is done. I came at my own risk and I won't be staying long, just to make sure a few things are in check."

"..I uh, I missed you."

"I did too."

She pulled her arms out to be taking in by his embrace. The warmth of his hugs always felt like a nice blanket as he wrapped her arms around him and kissed her forehead. She rested her head against his shoulder having another moment of silence to relax, sending a small glare to her father. She chuckled hearing her uncle brought her favorite ice cream from Basin Robins to help ease the tension, causing a tiny grunt from Hank. Her uncle smirked and told her to get Scott as she pulled away with a small smile.

When Hope walked out, he turned around to see his old friend sending daggers swords him. Jason just shrugged, "What?"

"You can't win her over with ice cream and hugs." He remarked.

"Yes I can. That's my job as the uncle. Make you look bad, so you want to work harder for her affection."

"That's not how it's supposed to work."

"That's exactly how it's supposed to work."

Soon enough, Scott and Hope joined them in the dinning room, as they talked trying to explain the situation to the confused brunette. Hope and Hank bricked as they did, as Jason tried to defuse the issue at hand introducing the trio. Scott listened along, trying to piece together everything they said, hearing how they were impressed with his work as well. He was offered some sugar, watching the ants push it around.

"H-how do you make them do that?" Scott asked pointing to the said ants, watching one climb onto Jason's finger with ease.

"Ants can lift objects 50 times their size. They can build farms. Corporate with each other." Hank explained.

"Right. But how do you make them do that?"

"I used electromagnetic waves to stimulate their factor's nerves center using a device. I speak to the Ants. I can go anywhere, see everything and hear everything."

"And still know absolutely nothing. I'm late for a meeting." Hope injects with a clear tone, pressing a kiss to her uncles cheek and a nod to her father.

"Be safe!" Jason calls out with a half smile, sipping his tea.

"Always am!"

With that she walks out. Scott raised an hand asking who the hell they are, what the hell is going on and if he could back to jail. Jason rolled his eyes telling both men to follow him.

They walked and talked heading down to the basement to reveal a small headquarters as Scott looked around in awe. Hank explained the suit and his role in this as Jason finished setting up a few things adding in a jab or two as he went along.

"Pym tech? SHIELD?" Scott said muttering under his breathe as he followed their voices.

"Darren Cross had heard rumors around the Pym Particles. Something that both companies tried to keep under lock and key, with only a few knowing it existed." Jason explained.

"And he became obsessed with recreating my formula." Hank continued to explain holding a vial of Pym particles, "But I wouldn't help. So he partially voted me out of my own company. Hope was chairmen of the board, so that helped. But she came back to me when she saw how close he was with his process. But without a suit, the brain isn't protected."

"Causing a fiery sensational effect that can make the brain unstable. And Cross hasn't realized that part yet. So with our luck, he'll die."

"Be nice, JJ. Cross isn't the most stable guy to begin with."

Scott listen then asked, "So what do you want from me?"

Both men exchange a look as Hank walked over to Scott Lang and told him he believed in second chances for everyone. A redemption. Saying that if he does that, he can start a new path and get some insight wiped off his records. Scott looked pleased declaring that he will go along with the plan of theirs. Within a couple of hours, they all got to work.

Scott began to start training how to use the suit, understanding the plan and communicating with the idea on how to get into the building. He got learn about the concept of the ants and their behavior in the process of the world. Hope and Jason offered to teach Scott some fighting techniques to help him later on. Hope smirked getting a good swing at Scott punching him hard enough he fell backwards, as Jason snorted at their dynamic play between the tackles to the ground.

———-

—————

It got to a certain point where Scott was given the opportunity to learn how to control the ants. Hank acted as director for him, telling him to focus having faith that he can do it. Scott tried but it didn’t work. Hope groan annoyed telling him how he needed to commit to communicating with them, he has to mean it. The father daughter duo, once again began to argue over the subject. Jason reminded them on how the focus should be on helping Scott with the trails.

“Really? That’s where our focus should be?” Hope said, taking the device used for the ants and held it close to her ear controlling to do more than just add sugar to the tea. She caused to room to darken as the ants blocked out the lights, Hank caught her before she can act by further. Her voice broke as she muttered a few words at her father and sighed before exiting the room.

Hank knew he couldn’t do it without her. Since day one she has requested to be put in the suit, do the trails and get the mission accomplished herself, but her father refused every request she made. Jason knew the reason why. Scott noticed the problem being a father himself and went out to talk to her, hoping to knock some sense into Hope and have her see behind the act.

The two were alone in the house, standing in awkward silence as the moment of Hope’s departure replayed in their heads. Hank walked around the first floor, fumbling with a small piece of dice he found in the living room as Jason watched from the window the car sitting in the driveway with the two figures talking inside.

He broke the silence with a scoff, biting in the inside of his cheek as he said, “You have to tell her.”

“No.” He muttered in response, knowing exactly what he meant by those words.

“If you want her on your side, you have to break the ice here. She knows Janet didn’t die cause of some accident involving a plane. I know it’s painful for you, Hank, but she deserves to know.”

“Like you told Stark about his parents death.”

That silence Jason quicker than expected. He remembered how Howard and Maria died, when he was at his lowest moments during the holiday season. He told Tony what he knew and what he only could’ve revealed of that painful memory, going as far as to show him the photographs he dug up a few days later from news reports. Hank might’ve had a falling out with Howard but he was at the damn funeral for a short period of time before returning home.

Hank knew he hit a nerve and continued, “You couldn’t even wrap your head around fact that you lost them. Worse, telling a child their mother died and they never had the chance to say goodbye. I lost Janet that day because of my misfortunes during the mission.”

“I know, I heard the story. I can only imagine how you felt when it happened, when she shrunk down to that size..” Jason added trying to find his voice again.

“Please, don’t remind me, Jason, she went sub-atomic...”

“And you tried to get her back by studying for weeks on an answer to get her back”

“I made a mistake letting her come with me..I was stupid enough to let that happen..you know how hard it is for me just to relive that experience again…Hope might hate me when she finds out..”

“I know, she might but she will forgive you…Hank..you and I have made a lot mistakes in the past 3 decades. We made decisions that we aren’t proud of..thinking we are protecting them from harm..”

“That’s the whole point! That’s our job, to keep them safe and not be heartbroken by the truth. You only gave Stark the benefit of the doubt about his parents death and how it affected the outcome, you said he hated the world for it..I can’t tell her..we have secrets for a reason..”

“Yeah well, Tony could care less about his father…How about you only tell her what you can? When the time comes where she asks for more, you go into more detail about what happened. You are driving her away now…I know you hate the looks she gives you. You said it yourself..”

There was an unspoken number of casualties among those accidents that occurred during the death of their loved ones. Only so much information, they kept closed to their chest to prevent others suffering in those moments. The amount of consequences to their loved ones being gone felt like a huge blow to the head and stuffed around in secret.

Hank knew that, especially with the fact that his very friend lost more than he can chew.

He felt sorry for bringing it up, but it just didn’t occur to him the words would impact that hard. Hell, the memories of his wife were still so fresh in his brain like it was yesterday.

Hank ran a couple of fingers cross his hair muttering, “Sorry for bringing that up. It’s just…”

“I know..I know. But you do need to let her know what happened that day.” Jason responded taking a breath to regain himself.

That was when Hope and Scott returned from the car, about to say something but was cut off by Hank’s statement. He had a hand against the fireplace beforehand turning around to face the two of them, to face his daughter with the truthful remarks she desires to know. He slowly but surely explained what he could to his daughter onto what happened to her mother as her voice broke mumbling a few questions.

He did in best to answer them. It hurt to talk about it, as it felt like he was reliving the same day all over again. She wanted to know more but her thoughts didn’t seem to allow her to think straight as she teared up even more. Hank just told her in the end he lost her mother, he didn’t mean to lose his daughter too.

Scott ruined the moment with a quippy response that caused Jason to roll his eyes, telling him to go make some tea. Afterwards the four of them got back to work on training Scott and working with the plans they had in motion.

———-

At some point, Jason went upstairs to get something to eat and suddenly got another set of calls. He sighed deeply knowing they must've been from Liane or Rei, he ignored knowing it was probably something they could've handle themselves. They had to learn how to get along and figure out solutions to things without an actual adult fixing it entirely for them.

With a deep sigh he answered, “Hello?”

“Jason! Aha we might got an issue at the compound—dude shut up!” Said the voice that clearly belonged to Liane.

“Okay, who burnt the toaster again? Wait why are you at The Compound anyway? Your supposed to be at The Tower..”

“The adults went out on a small scale meeting, so we were left alone. Long story short, we had an incident at The Tower and decided to visit The Compound for breakfast instead—Ughhh Rei be quiet! Rick calm it’s gonna be fine—I was saying, we came here and Sam made us breakfast…and then..”

“Then what? Liane spit it out or put Rei on the phone.”

“Then we saw an issue and Sam told us to stay inside.”

Just as Liane and Rei’s voices were heard, along with the other members in the background, Jason was called downstairs by Hank to check on something. And let’s just say, he wanted to punch the older man for his actions. From the panels on the screen, shots of Scott fighting The Falcon to get inside Avengers Compound. Hope half smiled, annoyed and confused by Scott’s actions.

It was honestly hilarious yet stressful.

He put the phone call on mute as he whispered, “Hank, what the hell?! You said that the item you were looking for was at an old building, not Avengers Compound!”

“I didn’t know that it was remodeled after all this time! You could’ve said something.” Hank remarked looking up at the blonde from his seat.

“You weren’t speaking of the specifics either! Oh god..Scott better get out of there.”

“He’ll be fine. Besides he’s fighting an Avenger, this can be taken as part of his training for the next assignment. What are you worried about?”

“Half of the other avengers are inside the building now and they’re a little terrified.”

Hope said an eyebrow confused onto what her uncle meant until she heard the voices over the phone and almost immediately laughed at the sound.

She couldn’t make out the voices very well but one caught her ears as she asked, “Is that Felton? Since when is she freaked out over something like this, isn’t she an Avenger?”

Jason just shrugged at this point and responded, “It’s a great mystery to all of this. And yes that was her. I can already picture Rei’s annoyed expressions. Whatever we do, we just have to get Scott out there and fast.”

“Or they might call the other heroes for assistance. Damn it.”

“Days like this, I wish my retirement plan was completely different.”

“You can always come stay with me instead. Wait, I’m still in the Will right?”

He winked at her meaning a clear ‘yes you are, honey.’ As they both returned their focus back onto the screen watching Hank navigate Scott across the field to fight Falcon, suddenly they lost visual contact with him as the ants couldn’t see what was happening inside. It went silent as the only sound came from the cell phone in Jason’s hand.

He raised the phone up his ear to respond, “Whatever happens stay instead. I’ll be there in a couple of hours to check up on—”

“About time you picked up the damn phone!” Yelled the voice that belonged to his first godson.

“Rei?! What happened to Liane?”

“I took it off her hands, she went to help calm Rick and the others down or whatever. I really don’t care. Do I have permission to take her down Felton and shut off the systems?”

“Permission granted—wait, hold off on shutting down the systems for a few minutes and then reboot The Compound.”

“Does that mean I’m in charge of everything?”

“Does it mean the house won’t be fire when I come over to check on you guys?”

“Yes sir.”

“Then you’re in charge. And please get a hold of an adult!”

The phone called ended with Rei’s voice being heard over the speaker as you can imagine the others not sounding too pleased about the news. Jason just smirked already picturing their faces as he watched the panels of Scott escaping and Falcon on the floor. Him and Hank fist bump at the process of the mission turning out decently well.

He knew Hank was gonna have a talk with Scott on his actions and how he handled it, but Jason knew based on the files that Scott must’ve gotten the item needed for the job.

And he was right.

Hope was very impressed with what he did as her father sighed in relief at the assignment being completed. Scott Lang had skills and knowledge to be used on a battlefield one day, possibly even a hero. The four of them talked about upcoming events that were set in motion as Jason texted his nephew for updates on the situation from earlier as it seemed like things have calmed down over there.

He will need to drive over there to check up on them later.

As of now, all he knew is that the four of them were headed into a very dangerous environment within the incoming hours. Especially after Darren Cross’s appearance at the household, assuming he was just speaking with Hank Pym, as the others were silently standing in the kitchen.

The next couple of hours were gonna be a wild ride.

~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~

That’s what I got! Thanks for reading I hope you liked it. 📺

Let me know what you think in the comments below 👇

Tags: @gaminggirlsstuff @gcthvile @missstrawbs2001 @rooster-84 @djs8891 @haleripley @starkleila @cherrysft @mandylove1000 @yetanotherwells @topgun-imagines @buckysteveloki-me @sherloquestea @nakiaswg @carellmcu @ximehs @savemewattpad and etc

#agent carter oc #marvel oc #marvel cinematic universe #ant man #hank pym #the young avengers #scott lang #marvel fanfiction #marvel blurb #hope van dyne #original male character #mcu fanfiction #mcu fancast #agents of shield #marvel x oc #janet van dyne #glen powell

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twcheaded-a · 2 years

Text

sunday post

#jean. in dog years i'm dead #suggestive. something something devouring flesh #(i am looking 👀😳)#(he's so pretty)

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lilaxwinemoved · 2 years

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( perpetually thinking about a single dad verse for jean )

#( jean. in dog years i'm dead )#( im so entirely normal about this )#( he's so good with kids im-- )#( 🥺🥺🥺🥴🥴🥴 )

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ladylamrian · 5 months

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- Chapter 3: The Unknown

[ Please read past chapters before this ]

-> Masterlist of this Mini Series <-

Female MainCharacter: Alexis Clarissa Fontaine

Pairing: F!MC×NikRyder

Other characters in this chapter: Katherine, Vera Reimonenq, Ivy, Garrus, Krom, Elijah,...

Summary: Nik doesn't remember Alex, instead... Elijah Ryder and the bloodwraith are back.

Word Count: 1.1K words

Rating: Teen (Mystery, Angst)

Warnings: Language, Talk about death

-> My complete Nightbound Masterlist <-

Taglist: @infactnoimmasitinthemiddle ; @peonierose ; @secretaryunpaid ; @jdstar88 ; @blackcatkita ; @lilyoffandoms ; @liviusofpella ; @mxdanni ; @mariemarieohcontrary ; @tessa-liam ; @choicesficwriterscreations ; @hopelessromantic1352 ; @rosepetals1 ; @stars-are-within-me ; @dutifullynuttywitch ; @artbyalz

Comments via Reblog wholeheartly welcome

GIF interpretation: Alex loses her lover, Nik Ryder. Again.

With an old enemy left and getting rescued by an old, familiar stranger from a past vision, Alex froze, slowly trying to progress. She's shocked, and so is the blond next to her. Nik Ryder, being an absolute stranger tried to calm down his pet. Never in his life has he seen that kind of creature, and now being saved by an old man who shoots glowing arrows in the modern 21st century?? Both face Elijah with open mouths. The legendary nighthunter, Elijah Ryder standing now in front of them.

"What are ya' both lookin' at me??", the old man muttered.

"I... Uh, Elijah? Is that you? No, it can't be. You're supposed to be dead.", Alex unsurely spoke.

"Oh, here I go to war and ya' already expect me to be dead?!! I may be old, but tougher than you think, child. Look at you, getting saved... and... Who's that pretty boy of your's anyway?", his strict gaze turned to Nik who was standing next to her. Nik who felt addressed, cleaned away the dust from his clothes and adjusted his glasses while his dog curiously started sniffing the surrounding area.

"Thank you for the rescue, sir. I don't know how you did this or what that was, but thanks. My name's Nik.", he reached his hand forward to shake Elijah's hand, but the old man avoided the friendly gesture and turned his strict gaze back towards Alex.

"How many times did I tell you to stay away from danger and not take things into your own hands when I'm not around?! You would have been dead now, child. Glad that I appeared on time, huh? And what are you even wearing? Where's ya' huntin' gear?"

"Uhhh, I'm wearing my regular clothes. My white shoulder-free top and blue jeans. Excuse me, what's going on? Who are you? You can't be alive, because you died years ago?!!"

"What non-sense are ya' muttering? Enough! Let's pay Garrus a visit, he'll have to explain. I told him to look out for ya' and...", he answered, grabbed her arm and pulled her to follow him until Nik intervened.

"Hey, back off!! Is this the way you treat a woman?"

"She's my student and my responsibility. Mind your own business, pretty boy.", he shooted a glare at him.

Exchanging another glance with Alex, Nik decided to turn his back and leave. His loyal dog follows him. Alex's heart sank seeing Nik go. Not after finally seeing him again. What's happening? What's going on? That man can't be her Nik. He doesn't even recognize her. Maybe a look-alike?

"Nik...", she sadly wispered while shedding another tear for him. She wanted him back, found him, and then she lost him.

"Child, I expected better from you. Remember what I once said, the closer you get to a person, the weaker you get. The more it will hurt you one day, so don't get too close. Don't trust anyone.", he explained in a harsh tone as she turned her attention towards him.

"Nik is the love of my life and I trust him from the bottom of my heart."

"A few months I was just gone and ya' already changed. Look how close the bloodwraith was about to kill ya'. Guess, I'll have to have a few strict words with Garrus for not looking after ya' while I was gone."

"Oh yes, lead me to Garrus. He'll explain what exactly is going on here.", she glared at Elijah.

The entrance doors of the Graveyard Shift shot open, as Elijah Ryder and Alex Clarissa Fontaine marched together inside. Both seeking answers. A friendly face with shimmering blue eyes greeted them.

"Elijah sir. Alex darling. Glad to..."

"I told ya' to look after her while I was gone. Just returning from NY and then I discover her beeing chased after the bloodwraith while holding hands with a guy."

"What??! My apologies, I didn't know. Alex, I thought you were at home?"

"Uhhhhh, Garrus. Explain first... Why is Elijah Ryder still alive and standing next to me? Nik said that he died when he was 17."

"What rubbish are y'a sayin', girl? Nothing ever happened to me and who's that Nik guy you're talking 'bout? Second thing, why were ya' runnin' away from the wraith, like a damn coward? I taught you to fight.", Elijah intervened when Alex was asking Garrus the question.

Before Alex could answer back, suddenly someone hugged her from behind which startled her at first. But then she calmed herself down after discovering who it was.

"Hey Alex, missed me?"

"Katherine?!! You're... You're back!!!"

Delighted to see her friend after so many months, she turned around to face her, returning her a warm welcoming hug. Again, tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Katherine, is that really you?! And the scars on your cheek... You're hurt. Did the war...?", she sniffed.

"I'm as hell as fine. Long time not seen, huh? Just returned with Elijah from the Vampire War. New York is safe now."

"I'm glad that you're alright, Katherine. I missed you. But... What is happening here and what happened to Nik? And Elijah??!!"

"Who's Nik, sweety?"

"Ooooh, is our Alex in love?! I want to know too. Who's Nik? Is he good-looking?", Ivy came from behind to tease her and giggled.

"Oh, not you all too!!", she begged and angrily dashed outside, leaving everyone behind in Graveyard Shift. Escaping those questions and everything. What should she do? What just happened? Of course, she's happy to finally have Katherine back, but Nik? Instead, she got Elijah??? No. No!! As Alex's mind tried to process everything, her eyes discovered a heartwarming, familiar face. It's... It's Vera who's lonely walking down the streets.

"Veraaaa!!!", she shouted, hoping that she knew at least what was happening. As she called her the second time, their eyes met each other's. Mysterious dark eyes. But before she could finally catch up to her, Vera frightened and ran away.

"What??!! Veraaaa, nooooo! Stop!!!"

Hearing Alex her screams, Katherine, Elijah, Garrus, Krom and Ivy dashed out from the Graveyard Shift to check on her.

"What's the matter, darling?"

"Everything okay? Why are you screaming Vera's name? Did she try to harm you?", Krom asked with concern as they all faced Alex and her tears.

"Wha... Wha... What? Why would Ve... Vera try to harm me? She's my friend."

"Because she's a Reimonenq. And a Reimonenq only wants power.", Elijah hissed.

"But Vera is different and not like her mother, Elijah."

"Why do ya' care for her? I thought I already convinced ya'? She's an enemy who can't be trusted. You two are no friends."

Nik beeing a total stranger? Elijah is alive? Not beeing friends with Vera? One night all friends were sitting together to comfort each other. But now everything and everyone has become unknown.

"I... I... I'll go for a walk. I want to be alone for a while, please.", Alex requested, turned away and left without turning back.

"What's wrong with this girl?!!", Elijah hissed.

*tap and zoom closer on pictures to see details

#nightbound #choices fanfics #bound by fate #mini series #choices #playchoices #choices nightbound #nik ryder

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phantomskeep · 2 years

Text

Putting the "Fun" Back in "Funeral" Excerpts Pt. 1

okay yes I am impatient and I kind of want feedback on this idea, so have some excerpts from the Dead on Main fic I'm writing! \o/ (also I have no idea how to format things LOL). There is a very, VERY large timeskip between E1 and E2, btw. Criticisms and opinions are very welcomed!

Warning for small bits of violence in E1, and for mention of blood in E2 as well as a suggestive ending ;)

------- Excerpt One -------

Danny sometimes wishes he could travel through time. Don’t get him wrong! He knows the danger of messing up the time stream (Dan, Desiree, and Clockwork all taught him that much) but there are still times when he’ll sit on top of a building, staring at the stars, wondering what he would change given half the chance.

Currently, however, he was debating on his life choices while not on a rooftop.

White gloved hands shakily grasped broken concrete, slowly lifting his broken body out of the crater in the middle of some random street. The latest ghost who decided to try their hand at using Danny as a punching bag was one that he hadn’t encountered before. His usual roster of ghostly enemies still came by, of course. Ember, Skulker, Lunch Lady, Johnny 13, Kitty and Box Ghost at least visited Amity Park once a week, if not more. However, the ghostly entity that Danny was currently facing? He had never seen them before.

As Danny raised himself out of his impromptu resting place he considered the being before him. Dark, void black skin and fur greeted him. The ghost’s face was an odd cross between a horse’s and dogs - long, block-shaped snout with a mouth reaching right up to under their dark red eyes. Pointed ears flicked wildly back and forth between a long mane that reached just up until the collar of the ghost’s thick golden necklace. The ghost’s choice of clothes baffled the white-haired ghost greatly, black dress shirt and (oddly enough) bright golden skinny jeans? Really? Who died and thought that was a good fashion choice?

Yeah, Danny was just as confused.

The other ghost looked down at the young halfa, “I cannot fathom how you are the one Hotep described to me.” He sneered, clearly mocking Danny. “The great Akuris will easily defeat such a pathetic child.”

Danny gasped, mock-offended. “Well, Mr. Fursuit, I will have you know that at least I don’t dress like an accountant in the middle of a mid-life crisis.” He smirked before resting a soul-piercing green glare at the larger ghost floating above where Danny stood. “Or would it be mid-afterlife crisis?”

With that, Danny leapt back into action. He swung a powerful punch directly into Akuris’s long muzzle causing the dark ghost to be pushed back. Amity Park’s ghostly hero did not relent on his assault, though. Danny followed the other ghost’s backwards momentum to bodily slam into his opponent’s soft belly in a move he often saw Dash pull during his football practices. The twenty year old halfa quickly grabbed the Fenton thermos off of his belt loop, taking the opportunity to finally capture the winded ghost.

A great sigh left Danny’s body as he hovered in the air, surveying the damage leftover from the fight between the two. It was well around two in the morning, judging by the placement of the twinkling stars. Today was the day of his coronation - exactly five years after he defeated Pariah Dark.

Originally, Danny was told he was technically king of the Ghost Zone in the aftermath of the battle. The young ghost had argued with the mysterious time-themed ghost named Clockwork who appeared. Danny was successfully able to get a five-year grace period of kingly procrastination.

Since then, Danny had grown up a little bit. He defeated his alternate evil self, discovered new powers, traveled through time on Clockwork’s request, graduated highschool, took a gap year to focus solely on fighting ghosts, and successfully never let his parents or the world know about his ghostly half. All in all, Danny considered it a successful five years.

All good things must come to an end, though. The half ghost kept staring dejectedly at the stars so far away. He knew that even though he probably *should* tell his parents what was going on, the fear of everything going wrong lurked in the back of his mind. After the events of Dan, the young man pulled away from his parents bit by bit. It was grief that drove Danny to rip out the most vulnerable parts of himself, after all. If he had nothing to grieve about then he would never be pushed into doing something as drastic like destroying the world, right?

Jazz disagreed very heavily with his mentality, but he was fine with that.

Another sigh left the poor halfa’s body and he re-hooked the Fenton Thermos to his beltloop. He might as well go back home to continue to lick his wounds before Danny had to, unfortunately, be crowned king. What a shitty Tuesday.

------- Excerpt Two -------

A delightful aroma wafted through the late morning air, easily slipping between the weak rays of sunlight filtered through the windows. Jason slowly blinked as he shuffled his way out of bed, slightly wincing when his bruised leg hit the time-worn wooden floors. He still hadn’t fully recovered from the latest fight with Scarecrow – something Danny certainly wasn’t letting him forget. Thinking of the ghostly man, Jason glanced over to the other side of their shared bed only to see the sheets rumpled but obviously used. With a small sigh, Jason pushed himself off his mattress and started his sleepy trek into the apartment’s kitchen.

The sight of a smaller, pale man with his exposed back to Jason was always something the man longed to see. The first time Danny was relaxed and comfortable enough around Jason’s home (and by extension, Jason himself) to make the pair breakfast had rapidly become one of the man’s most favorite memories. It made the middle of his chest hum with feelings of pride-safe-I-did-that-yes-home-safe. Of course, seeing his boyfriend only in space-themed boxers was something Jason loved for another reason, as well.

Danny let out a small laugh, pushing back against the strong chest bracing him. “Jason,” he whined, dragging out the man’s name. The other man just hummed and dropped his chin on top of Danny’s head. Large arms wrapped securely around the younger man’s torso and waist, Jason’s steady breaths moving Danny’s smaller body as the Crime Lord hugged his lover from behind.

“Yes?” The taller man asked.

Danny half-turned his head to look into Jason’s similar crystal blue eyes. “If you keep this up the pancakes are going to end up burnt,” he warned half-heartedly.

A deep chuckle shook the smaller man’s body and Danny couldn’t help but purr contently at the feeling. Jason always made the younger feel so safe. Even when he came back to their shitty little apartment deep into the heart of Crime Alley covered in blood, or when the Pit Rage got the better of Jason so early into their relationship. Jason, to Danny, felt so much like home sometimes it physically hurt.

“What if,” Jason said slyly, blue eyes-half lidded with promise. He leaned closer onto Danny’s body, his mouth ghosting across a pointed ear. “I wanted something different for breakfast instead?”

Danny gasped as Jason finally captured his lips in a kiss. Calloused, practiced hands ran over cold cheeks and through soft hair. The half-ghost ran one hand along the stove’s counter, finding the dial to turn off the stove quickly. The man turned around in the comforting embrace before fully facing Jason.

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

aaaand yeah that's it! I'm slowly finishing up chapter one and I'm hoping to get it posted this weekend ^-^

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bagelbright-tok · 24 days

Text

Stayin' Alive

Used 'Too many beds,' from the "reverse tropes," as a prompt for this fic.

After the events of N'Doul, you stay with Kakyoin at the hospital, waiting for the rest of the group to come. While being led to the room Kakyoin would be staying in, instead of an empty room, you see... mattresses? Watch out! An enemy appears with a power able to rival your own!

JJBA x fem!reader, TW: Swearing, mentions of death, a dead body, mentions of blood, fighting

Word Count: 2,156

'Text' = thoughts, "Text" = music

__________

No Time To Talk

_____

"Egypt!?"

You knew you should have denied when this teen and his grandpa began raving about a hundred year old vampire who was killing the teen's mom spiritually. Of course, with the context of Stands, you were more willing to believe them; Joseph Joestar, Jotaro Kujo, Noriaki Kakyoin, Muhammed Abdul, and Jean-Pierre Polnareff.

You were in the same boat as Kakyoin-- no commitment other than to Jotaro's mom, a stranger. While you knew the trip would be life threatening-- you weren't expecting a grave example.

The Emperor and Hanged Man. At first, you played your part. Minded your own business, even managed to tune out Polnareff's and Abdul's argument. You'd barely met them; you didn't want anything to do with their drama.

The whole day became one moment. You, Mr. Joestar, and Kujo stared down at Abdul's dead body. You couldn't help but feel a rattling terror and chill. You'd just met this man in Singapore, and now he was dead. Kakyoin and Polnareff were nowhere in sight.

"What--? What do we do?" You shutter.

No one said anything. Not a noise slipped out.

That day was a while ago. You still think of it-- or, well, it haunts you. Your encounter with N'Doul was arguably also terrifying. Another Stand reliant on sound? Not to mention the useless dog the team acquired. Your headphones were destroyed in that battle-- truly the biggest lost to you.

It did save you, though, temporarily.

All of this runs through your head before a doctor approaches. "Miss [L/N]?" You look up. "We are placing Mr. Kakyoin in his room. Please follow me,"

You stand and follow the moving MD. Your mind is still in a static. "Is he okay?"

"Yes, the main damage was fortunately done to his eyelids rather than his eyeballs." The doctor stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Still, there was some damage, and his eyes need to heal."

"Hey, I'm a big fan of it not being as bad as it could have been," you exhale. "How long will it take?"

You begin to see two nurses rolling a bed towards you and the doctor. It seems you are meeting Kakyoin at his room. "We estimate around two weeks,"

"Shit, two?" You look to the doctor. "That's a long time."

"Optimal for healing,"

The doctor stopped with the bed next to the door. As the doctor opened it, the bed was reoriented to fit through the door. You entered.

"What the fuck?" Bed upon beds upon beds. The room is littered with them. "Is this a storage room or what?"

"Ehm..." The doctor is also looking around the room, confused. "N-no! This is.. this is supposed to be Mr. Kakyoin's room! The key is only for this room,"

You snatch the key. "Let me see that!" You turn and compare the number on the key to the one on the door. "Doc, someone's gotta be fuckin' with you! Why are there so many goddamm beds!?" You throw the key back at the man, growing more frustrated.

"To use against you, [Y/N]~!" A voice echoed from within the beds.

You shoot your head around. "Seriously?" you groan. "Can we not get a day off?" The static was ringing now.

"Your Stand is formidable, I hear," the voice coo'd. "I was beyond elated to have been assigned to handle you and Noriaki!" The doctor was yelling in fear, backing out of the "bed" room.

"Yeah? I can tell by the way you talk, you're overcompensating," You scoff at them. "Why don't you show yourself and see how 'formidable' my Stand is!" You point at the beds, challenging the user.

"Oh, please, as much as I would love to, I also enjoy living." The voice laughed, the source being thrown around the room. "First, the battlegrounds should be in my favour!"

A loud thwap echoed around the room as each and every mattress slapped themselves against the walls of the room. One even managing to slam the door behind you. You look around, now spotting the source of the comments and mattresses.

"Cushioning the walls?" You fold your arms. "I'm guessing so when I beat you, you won't hit them so hard?"

"Don't you hear the difference already, [Y/N]?" They tapped on their ears. "I've made the room sound-proof. The noise we make doesn't bounce back, or echo-- and no noise can get in." They smiled widely.

Your eyes widened. "S-so what?" You stutter, pointing a sharp finger at them.

"So what?" They laughed loudly. "Your Stand, Ace's Wand, is entirely reliant on noises and your feelings. I also know, you don't do well without your music, so-!" They spread their arms out defiantly. "-I have made you your own personal Hell!"

"Shit," you mutter. "So what's your power? Mattress making and manipulation?"

"My Stand is Knave! It's a bit more intricate than that," they explained. "I can create objects from nothing and manipulate them as I please. Mattresses were simply the most inconspicuous object for me to make and plaster."

"Inconspicuous?" You doubted

"It got you in here, didn't it?"

"...Touché."

"Enough talk!" The Knave's wielder yelled, a sparkling object beginning to form in their hand. They launched it towards you before it was fully created.

You gasp, rolling out of the way of the brick hurdling towards you. "Ha!" You taunt, perhaps too early. "ACK--!" A strong heavy force smashes into the back of your head. The brick finally crumbled and seemingly vanished.

"Did you forget the part where I can manipulate what I create?" They snickered, another object beginning to form in their hand.

You groan from the ground, holding your bleeding head. Your vision hurts and blurs, but you're coherent enough to be pissed.

'With enough blows like that, I will forget!' You think to yourself. 'I have to try and use my Stand-- even if it'll be hard to control without music!'

You begin to stand, shakily. Another brick hurdles towards you-- this time you duck down. You summon your Ace's Wand-- partially. You hear the brick change trajectory towards you again. Waiting for the last second, you twist out of the way, allowing the brick to instead smash into the ground.

"Using your Ace to hear my moves, eh?" They hummed. "They may not do as much damage, but perhaps quieter objects will do!"

"Fuck you!" You sprint towards the enemy, almost tripping. You raise a confident fist and throw it towards them. You see them try to raise an arm in defense, but they're too slow.

Your knuckles collide into their face-- you can feel their skin wrap around your hand. With the combination of your Stand, the enemy is launched backward into a mattress.

You breathe heavily, wiping your bloody fist onto your pants. The enemy groans in pain. "I--I think--! I think I'll be better off, out of sight as well..."

"What?"

You can only watch in horror as the enemy slowly melts into the mattress, becoming one with it. 'I need to get some fuckin' music in here, fast!' Your thoughts are all you're left with along with the eerie silence now encasing the room.

You take steps to look around the room, waiting for the next attack. 'Knave creating objects doesn't have a noise.' You spin at the disturbance of air behind you. 'Throwing them rips the air-- but that same sound could be Knave coming out of a mattress... they're too similar sounding!' A flat pane of glass is already too close to you and shatters into your face.

You scream, "AUUGGH--!" the shards digging in and causing you to stumble back. 'Shit! They know what they're doing! Sending things I would hear too late to dodge!' You hover your hands over your face, trying not to touch it.

A small ring alerts you again. You shift to left and watch as a long needle of glass flies by into the wall, shattering into the mattress and disappearing. 'T-too close!' You try to think of a plan while avoiding as many of the glass knives and needles as you can.

You don't avoid them all, though. One needle tears itself through your left shoulder-- another one through the same arm. A ceiling attack rockets a needle and it embeds itself nicely into your right foot, which gives Knave the opportunity to shoot knives straight into your legs. You wail in pain and lay on the ground as comfortably as you can. There was a lot of glass in a lot of your body.

You hear the laughing of the enemy. He reappears and stands above your bloodied form. "It's hard to believe that you, the great [Y/N] [L/N], managed to defeat Yellow Temperance," they stated sarcastically. "You were clearly just lucky."

You shake your head. "I'm-- I'm not lucky," you groaned. "Luck doesn't-- augh--! Luck doesn't win battles!" You smile widely, revealing your blood stained teeth.

The enemy stares down in disgust and horror. "What does that mean!?" Now they're on high alert, looking around the room. "You have your Stand summoned! Where is it!?"

You begin to laugh finally. A loud ringing causes the Knave wielder to look up. A gaping hole in one of the mattresses reveals an intercom. "What!?" They scream, reaching up quickly.

A noise begins to emit from it, though, and the moment it does, the enemy is slammed into the ground. "Well, you can tell by the way I use my walk / I'm a woman's man, no time to talk," Now you hover above the enemy, your Stand taking on a horrifying, yet controlled, appearance.

"You are right, my Stand does rely on music," you explain. "However, my Stand isn't a short-range. It can travel up to 100 metres."

"N-no way!" The enemy cried, your Stand beginning to crush them. "Y-you were using your Stand to dodge my attacks! You couldn't have-- have used it to put music on!"

"Wrong, and correct," you smile. "I wasn't using Ace to dodge, but if I were, I definitely wouldn't have been able to put music on."

"The New York Times' effect on man,"

You begin to bob to the music. "Whether you're a brother or whether you're a mother, / You're stayin' alive, stayin' alive!"

You turn around and walk away, tuning into the music as the enemy begins to scream in pain. The sounds of shredding and crunching are muted to you.

"Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin' alive, stayin' alive!"

The mattresses disappear as you arrive at the door. "Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin' alive!" You open the door, the doctor and nurse standing next to Kakyoin's bed in fear.

When they look into the room, there is nothing but the dents and the splatters of blood on the floor. The Bee Gee's echo through the entire building.

"Hey, uh," you begin. "When you're done with Kakyoin, do you think you could take a look at me, doc?"

You remember the doctor nodding frantically, darkness, and then waking up in a hospital bed two metres away from Kakyoin's.

"Damn,"

***

"Oh my god!" Joseph exclaimed at you. "I didn't think a Stand user would actually attack at a hospital! Those workers of DIO really are downright diabolical!"

"Kakyoin is the most vulnerable," Jean-Pierre pointed out. "It makes sense they would want to take advantage of that and try to get him while he's down."

"I'm more surprised they were able to clock my flaws so fast," you hum quietly.

"Oh." Jotaro noised as he rummaged around his pockets for a moment. "I found a store that sold these things. It looked like the one you had before."

Jotaro reveals a pair of headphones. You widen your eyes and snatch them giddily. "They're exactly like them!" You excitedly announce. "Thank you! God, it's been Hell without my music!"

You immediately pull out your Walkman, pop a tape in, connect the headphones, and play your music. You leave one headphone on while the other rests on your head so you can still hear the team.

"All the pairs of headphones we tried to get you as replacements," Joseph began his complaint, "And all you wanted were your old ones!? I paid a lot of money to get those brand new, top-quality ones the other day!"

"I like my old ones," you shrug. "I don't like how the new ones feel on my head or ears."

You put the headphones on completely, now unable to hear Joseph and his frustrated and annoyed rant about your pickiness. You bob your head to the music and even close your eyes so as to avoid his angry hand signs.

"Music loud and women warm / I've been kicked around since I was born / And now it's all right, it's okay,"

"And we're stayin' alive, stayin' alive / Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin' alive!"

______

E N D

It's been like, two? Years? Damn. Anyways, this is a continuation of my fic, Take Me to Funkytown! It has been a while since I have written for JJBA, and I am still not very good at writing fight scenes, so I hope you lot are able to enjoy this! Shout out to @cheesencrackersinprison for commenting on my Funkytown fic. It was actually the greatest motivation for me to write this.

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba #x reader #reader insert #Noriaki Kakyoin #Jotaro Kujo #Joseph Joestar #jean pierre polnareff #jjba part 3 #Stardust Crusaders #writing #my writing #fiction #fanfic #my fanfic

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msdk-00 · 2 months

Note

8, 13, 19, 29

8. What you love about yourself?

Hmm this was really hard. I like that I don't necessarily do something just because it's 'what people do'. I tend to think critically about things, and I have to find it personally worthwhile. I.e not eating meat, or not shaving. I like that I don't do these things even though it would be easier for me to just do them, but instead I stick to my convictions even if it means I'm perceived negatively by others.

Tangentially, I also like that I'm pretty open to unfamiliar ideas and to both external/environmental and internal/personal change.

Maybe I like these things about myself because they're difficult to me. (In my heart I'm a people pleaser and distrust my own intuition/thoughts, and I also hate criticism and am anxious of new/unfamiliar situations. But I try to not give in to these things because that would be a miserable way to live.)

13. All of your pets you've ever had.

I've only ever had fish! I'm allergic to cats and other family members are allergic to cats and/or dogs :( But we've had goldfish and algae eaters. We had like 10 in our (big) tank at one point. Unforch they're all dead besides one absolute unit who will not die even though his scales have turned completely grey, he's blind, and he's well over ten years old now. Don't even know his name, he's just referred to as "The Fish" like he's some mythical omniscient creature of wisdom

I wanted a hedgehog when I was little but my parents wouldn't give me one (it was probably a good call)

19. Fav flavour of icecream

Chocolate is king. Cookie dough is a close second. Both together would be the closest thing on earth to heaven

29. Fav style of clothing

Not sure about a particular style but I love baggy clothes, like baggy pants (jeans or sweats) and baggy t shirts. I also have a humble collection of cute fuzzy sweaters. One is a penguin and it's absolutely massive on me and another has teddy bears but my favourite is a pig with coins and it says something in chinese on it that i can only assume makes the pig with coins make sense. It's a little too short on my arms for my liking because I like to have sweater paws but it's too cute to ever get rid of

#ask #asks #thx for the ask moot<3

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arcanespillo · 1 year

Note

it says that ur into poetry in ur bio and thats so cool!!! i like poetry as well and am taking it as an elective at uni but i am actually not too good with poets so was wondering if you had any favourite poets? if not thats totally fine. maybe poetry recs? thanks ☆

poems

i'm not the river / nox by anne carson is tricky to find but there's a fragment here / PORTRAIT OF THE ALCOHOLIC WITH WITHDRAWAL / A BOY STEPS INTO THE WATER / SOME BOYS AREN’T BORN THEY BUBBLE / Thirstiness is Not Equal Division / EVERYTHING THAT MOVES IS ALIVE AND A THREAT–A REMINDER / A Man Said to the Universe / The Worm King’s Lullaby / Cortège / the triumph of achilles by louise gluck / the reticent volcano keeps by emily dickinson / the mirror by louise gluck / i go down the shore / the arrowhead / Brother / My Brother at 3 A.M / I would I might forget that I am I / the second elegy / stripped car / The Saints Come Marching In by Anne Sexton, How to Be a Dog by Andrew Kane, Angel of Hope and Calendars by Anne Sexton / I Remember / WHAT THE BIRD WITH THE HUMAN HEAD KNEW / THE TRUTH THE DEAD KNOW / In The Deep Museum / Lament / The Starry Night / A Curse Against Elegies / jesus suckles / start here / march is march / a bad day by mary oliver / Portrait of the Illness as Nightmare / lord knows / Town of Finding Out About the Love of God / fragments from Avalon Revisited (1963) by Margaret Atwood / from crush by richard siken 'the torn up road', from war of the foxes 'landscape with fruit rot and millipede', 'birds over the trampled field', 'the museum', 'self portrait against red wallpaper'/ from louise gluck's the wild iris 'clear morning' 'spring snow' 'scilla' 'the hawthorn tree' 'april' 'the jacob's ladder' 'matins' 'song' 'vespers' 'harvest' 'retreating light' 'lullaby' 'the gold lily' / from her vita nova 'the open grave' 'roman study' 'timor mortis' 'castile' 'mutable earth' 'inferno' / from faithful and virtuous night 'aboriginal landscape' 'utopia' 'the melancholy assistant' 'a foreshortened journey' 'the horse and the rider' / from meadowlands 'parable of the king' 'moonless night' 'departure' 'rainy morning' 'telemachus' guilt' 'meadowlands I' 'telemachus' kindness' 'parable of the dove' 'purple bathing suit' / from firstborn 'the cripple in the subway' 'seconds' 'letter from provence' 'firstborn' / from the house on marshland 'the pond' 'gratitude' 'abishag' 'the fire' / from descending figure 'the garden (2)' 'origins (4)' 'thanksgiving', from the triumph of achilles 'exile' 'seated figure' 'liberation' 'adult grief' 'horse'/ apostle town / the town of the sound of a twig breaking / strawberry moon by matthew dickman / the wolf god / this poem by mark bibbins (another year on the day/ of class photos/ i scratched at my face/ with a sharpened popsicle stick/ no blood just a few pink lines/ that didn't read/ what else./ i wanted a cast on my leg/i wanted braces and glasses/and my tonsils out/i wanted scars/i don't know when or whether i figured out the difference between wanting to be damaged and wanting to be healed) / ancient text by louise gluck

books

short talks by anne carson, waiting for god by simone weil, blue horses by mary oliver, dog songs poems by mary oliver, men in the off hours by anne carson, trances of the blast by mary ruefle, autobiography of red, red doc and norma jeane baker of troy by anne carson, richard siken and ocean vuong's books are famous honestly but try to read their stuff if you haven't checked them out yet (i don't like ocean vuong but i did like some bits of his first book) and also i suggest reading 'the journal of albion moonlight' if you find yourself particularly liking red doc, i hope you were not expecting old poetry because that really isn't really in my ropes

this is what i have noted on my journal :p if you can't find some stuff dm me but you can search for most poetry books on archive.org and it's free and legal

+ poems by Margaret Atwood ! i forgot, like this one

#i love women who make poetry <3 #thank you i realized i completely stopped posting about poems i read like on my own #like the only poetry i've been posting is just #like reblogging fragments really #anyway i just used you to make a masterlist lol i'll pin this #poetry #ask #thank you for asking lol i hope it's not overwhelming anyway i think i'll start posting most of the poems that arent linked so i can link t #them later on #also. .the way i can literally make every single one of these poems about supernatural is not sane

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myeuphoricmindset · 1 year

Text

Haunted by you — Eddie Munson

Chapter two

chapter one & tags/warnings — here

masterlist

Summary | Eddie Munson's ghost is haunting the house recently occupied by Daisy Morgan. Having been deceased for years, Eddie becomes visible only to her. As she adjusts to sharing her living space with an otherworldly presence, their relationship develops into a compelling yet forbidden romance between the living and the dead. But, how could that ever truly work?

➴ ➴ ➴

Perhaps her childhood visit to the bright white hospital with the grippy socks wasn't a mistake. This is the very reason they sent her away- because she saw people who weren't really there. But that was years ago; she was just a kid with a wild imagination and a talent for making up stories, or maybe that's what they made her believe. There hasn't been an encounter since, until now.

Daisy's gaze remained fixed on the man perched casually on her kitchen counter. The last remaining tear on Daisy's face falls as she stares blankly at him.

He said her name.

He's dead

He said her name.

And he's dead.

Trying to process all of this at once has given her a pounding headache. Daisy found herself teetering between laughter and continued tears. However, one thing she was certain of was her name lingered in the air between them. Her breath caught in her throat, and terror coursed through her at the way her name rolled off this stranger's lips.

"How do you know my name? Are you some sort of stalker?" Daisy's voice quivered with unease, but she found it simpler to ask this than to confront the perplexing notion that he is dead. All of this felt absurd, even ludicrous.

"No," he chuckled, then shook his head, his brown eyes reflecting concern as he observed her growing fear. "God, no."

He began to raise his hands in a gesture of surrender, but then a realization seemed to dawn on him, and he pointed at her, his brows furrowing.

"How could I be a stalker when you're in my house?"

"Stop avoiding my question. How do you know who I am?"

"Well, the officer said it. Ms. Daisy Morgan." He looks at her, his eyes trailing over her face.

The terror still courses through her veins, but as she looks at him longer he doesn't seem like a threat. His eyes radiate warmth, and even his tone, though tinged with sarcasm, carries a playful vibe. Besides, if he had bad intentions, wouldn't he have acted on them by now?

But then, there's that nagging worry: He could be one of those psychopaths that starts friendly, making you believe he's harmless and then he ends up cutting your limbs into tiny pieces and burying them in the backyard like a dog with a bone.

The stranger casually taps his chin, as though something suddenly came to mind, capturing Daisy's focus.

"Oh, and I know your name from Grace. That's your mom right?" He adds, though he appears to be well aware of the answer.

Daisy's stomach plummets.

He knows her name. He knows Grace. He knows how to get into this house. Questions bubble up ready to pop.

"You know —knew Grace?"

He shrugs, "We were roommates for a time. Although, she couldn't stand me. Even tried calling the priest to remove me." He shakes his head as he chuckles.

Daisy stares at him in disbelief, "Bullshit."

"I'm not bullshitting you," He gracefully slides off the counter, appearing unfazed. "The guy walked around throwing fucking holy water into the air. I mean, I hadn't been that entertained in years, so I quite enjoyed the performance."

He casually brushed his black jeans, as though the counter wasn't already spotless. Daisy couldn't help but wonder if he was a product of her imagination. But he moved and acted too real. She could feel his laugh within her chest and hear her name on his lips, making her whole body react. It's beginning to freak her out.

In an attempt to validate reality, she decides to employ a familiar tactic she had used in the past. Her strategy is simple: assign him a name. If she were to ask about his name and it differed from the one she had crafted in her thoughts, then she would find herself, well, let's just say she would be fucked. The silver lining is that it would confirm her sanity. However, the downside is that she would be faced with the disconcerting truth that she was, indeed, talking with a ghost. Either way, it was an unsettling situation.

Now, who does he look like?

Daisy studies the man before her, who persists on recounting his encounter with a priest. He is handsome, the pretty kind. The kind that might make others feel self-conscious. Because, who looks like that, anyway? His skin is flawlessly smooth, his curls look soft and fall just right, and his eyes are captivatingly deep brown. Brown isn't a special color, but the way it looks in his eyes makes you believe that it is. He carries himself with an effortless blend of confidence and ease, even as his words are often laced with sarcasm and playfulness.

Choosing a name is tough, but just to keep things simple, she goes with the first name that comes to mind: Joseph.

Daisy cuts in, her curiosity piqued, "What's your name?"

He looks down at her, "Oh, damn. I haven't even introduced myself. I'm Eddie,"

Eddie. Not Joseph. Damn it.

He extends his hand for a handshake, but his gesture doesn't quite sit well with Daisy. Is he trying to be funny? Does he find this situation humorous?

Daisy isn't finding it amusing at all.

Clutching onto a fragile strand of hope that things might not be as they seem, Daisy cautiously raises her hand to meet his. His head tilts ever so slightly, assessing her, and their brown eyes locked as they await her next move.

He looks real, which shakes Daisy's convictions to their core. His chest rises and falls, his eyes blink, and his lips curve into a genuine smile. All too real.

"I'm not going to hurt you. If that is what you are worried about," he reassures her.

She didn't know what to expect, but the cold sensation against her palm just before her hand moved through his was not it.

"Well, shit. I was really hoping things would be different." He groans and leans back against the kitchen counter, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Different?"

"People usually don't see me. So, why can you?"

Daisy shrugs, feeling completely lost. How could she know? Right now, nothing makes sense. Frustrated, she gets to her feet, still feeling dazed.

"Listen," she says with a sigh, glancing around as if hoping her thoughts will magically clear up. "Maybe you should go haunt someone or something else. I can't handle... whatever this is. I need to go to bed and wake up with a clear head."

"No can do," he replies casually, making his way into the living room.

"W-what do you mean, 'can't do'?"

Daisy follows him, observing as he drums his fingers on the couch while walking toward the record player.

"She never played this, you know," he mentions, lifting an Etta James record and giving it a once-over. "Our music tastes, well," he hesitates briefly, exhaling softly, "weren't exactly similar, but it would've been nice to hear something. The house felt as lifeless as she was." He glances at Daisy, his expression slightly pained. "Sorry," He places the record sleeve back on the table.

Daisy shrugs it off. But, she does takes note that he can pick up things, which is odd because he can't even touch her. But it's not worth dwelling on. None of this matters. She just needs to usher this ghost boy out and get some sleep.

"Alright, Come on," she says, walking past him and holding the front door open.

Eddie's brow arches, and she can see him suppressing a smile, which irritates her. "It was a pleasur—well, not really. But you've had your spooky visit, so you can head back to hell or wherever you came from."

He chuckles, "Hell? Do I look like I belong there?"

She points at his shirt, giving him a sharp look.

Eddie's gaze drops to his shirt, bearing the words "Hellfire Club," and he erupts into laughter. His laughter reverberates through the otherwise silent home, perhaps the only laugh to echo within these walls since they were built.

Daisy, however, remains unamused, her eyes locked onto him.

Eddie glances at his wrist, checking his watch, and takes in a sharp breath. "You're right," he concedes, "I should head back to the club I manage in Hell. Got a lot of work waiting for me." He briefly meets her gaze before making his way toward the front door. "The devil really depends on me. Can't let him down."

"Good luck with that," Daisy replies, avoiding eye contact as she widens the door for his departure.

"Thank you, I'll need it."

Eddie steps outside, a smile lingering on his face, and Daisy wastes no time in closing the door. She releases a heavy sigh and leans her back against the door, feeling a sense of relief washing over her. But before she can fully let go of the weight on her shoulders, Eddie's voice shatters her moment.

"Fuck, I got my days mixed up. Hellfire doesn't meet until Tuesdays."

Daisy lets out a piercing scream as she notices Eddie's head protruding through the door, his body seemingly absent or on the other side. Whatever she's witnessing, it's absolutely terrifying.

"What the fuck!" She stumbles back, clutching the banister for support.

Eddie laughs as he casually walks through the door. No, not around it, but right through it. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

"Screw you," Daisy hisses.

"That's fair."

"Go away! Seriously," Daisy stands taller, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She takes a step forward, locking eyes with him. "I don't want you here," she says, her words deliberate and harsh.

Eddie's gaze softens, and his jaw tenses as he steps back. "If I could go, I would've left years ago. But I'm stuck here. So, you'll either have to deal with it or leave."

Leave? If only.

The reality is that she can't leave, and she doesn't want to stay. But she has to. There is nowhere for her to go. To make matters worse, she's utterly exhausted. If she were to lie down, even on the floor, she might fall asleep. Her eyelids feel as heavy as her heart.

"I have nowhere to go," Daisy admits softly.

They lock eyes, silence stretching between them. Something in his gaze begins to dissolve her anger. He's giving her those lost puppy eyes, and it's infuriatingly unfair. Why should she care if he's sad or hurt? She's only just met the guy. But she's not cruel; she still has a heart, even if it's shattered into a million pieces.

Eddie frowns. "Well, me neither. So, I guess we are stuck with each other."

Daisy's gaze drops, and she scolds herself for feeling a twinge of sympathy and for being harsh with him.

"So, what, you really are..."

"Dead? Yeah," Eddie replies casually.

It's sinking in, but not quite. Honestly, how does one even begin to grasp what's happening here? So, Daisy doesn't try to make sense of it. She accepts it, as if it's no big deal that she's standing here conversing with a ghost. It's the simplest way to cope and prevent a full-blown mental breakdown.

"Cool," Daisy says, sounding as stupid as she feels.

"Cool?" Eddie looks amused. "Well, okay then. Uh, should I show you to your room?"

"Wait, are you like... the dead butler?"

Eddie stifles a laugh as he rubs his face. "Don't you think I'd be wearing a suit or whatever butlers wear?"

"Yeah, you're right. Butlers definitely don't wear... that."

"That? What do you mean? What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" Eddie responds in a defensive yet playful tone.

Daisy sidesteps his question and grabs her bag. "So, this way?" She points upstairs and starts making her way up.

"Wait, no. What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" Eddie calls after her.

Daisy reaches the top of the stairs, where the hallway splits into two directions. She pauses, uncertain of which way to go. Eddie catches up, still muttering about her previous comment, but she interrupts him. "Which one isn't haunted by the ghost of my mother?"

"Oh, no. Grace isn't here. At least, I haven't seen her."

"Yeah, I'm sure she would have made her presence known by now." she says, rolling her eyes.

"Ah, I see. Mommy issues?"

Daisy shoots him a glare, and Eddie's lips tighten before he clears his throat. "Her room was downstairs, in case you were worried."

"I'm not worried, just curious," she replies, raising her chin.

"Mhm."

She rolls her eyes once more and pivots on her heel, heading for the room at the end of the hallway. Before she opens the door, she looks back at him. "Should I be concerned that you're going to watch me sleep?"

"Jesus Christ," Eddie mutters, making his way back down the stairs. "Go to bed, Daisy." With the next step, he vanishes.

Daisy stands in the doorway, gazing at the stairs, doing her best to process her bizarre reality. Deciding not to dwell on it, she closes the door and flops onto the king-sized bed.

════ ⋆Eddie⋆ ════

Eddie gracefully glides into the dim, empty room below, with only the moonlight filtering through the windows. Yet, he doesn't require light, for he resides within the shadows.

There it is, or rather, there she is, sitting gracefully in the alcove, framed on a wall adorned with colors he's memorized over the years.

Daisy's brown hair appears duller, her eyes seemingly lacking depth now that he's met her face to face. It's now evident that Grace painted this from a photograph, not from her memory. She failed to capture Daisy's true beauty.

God, she was beautiful.

The house seems quiet to the average ear, but Eddie hears everything—the gentle brush of the wind against the windows, the slow drip of the upstairs bathroom sink, and the constant, distant tapping, a reminder that he's trapped in the in-between worlds.

He's grown accustomed to these sounds. What he wasn't accustomed to was the soft crying from the room just above him. An ache forms in his chest at the sound of Daisy's cries, a physical sensation he hasn't felt in years.

Maybe it's because he hasn't spoken with someone in an unhealthy amount of time, or perhaps it's because he feels compelled to care for this girl, having admired her on the wall for so long. He worries he might be the cause of her tears. But, from the moment she entered the house, it was evident she was upset about something, which eased his pain slightly, suggesting he might not be the cause. Yet, it awakens an old, familiar emotion—anger.

Who could have hurt her?

None of this should concern him. He doesn't truly know her. Loneliness and sadness within his mind have led him to create ideas and versions of a girl he's never met.

Shame and disgust wash over him, especially when he contemplates how she can see him and whether she might find a way to set him free from this house. The thought terrifies him, yet it also provides him with hope.

But how could he even begin to entertain such thoughts while she cries herself to sleep? He turns away from the moonlit painting, closes his eyes, and vanishes into the shadows.

┗━━━ chapter three coming soon ━━━┛

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