#TA x OC

[romanreignsbae]

I’ll help you - R.R

Me and my boyfriend Joe of 2 years now have always supported eachother no matter the circumstances. More recently Joe's schedule has been hectic as ever, because football season has started and he has a minor problem consuming him.

Since he came into college on a full ride scholarship for football this doesn't mean grades don't matter. He's an student athlete so his grades are always took into consideration before football.

Me and him have basically have all our classes together. In one class specifically, he's been struggling and is on the verge of failing, if his grade goes any lower, he will be taken off the football team until it goes back up and he can't have that.

We have a test in 2 days that's worth enough to bring his mark back up, so here I am in our dorm room trying to help him study.

I'm explaining the question thoroughly to make sure he understands. "So, Joe do you get it?" I ask him. I get no response so I look up at him seeing he's staring at me in awe. He then keeps eye contact while pushing my hair out of my face and tucking it behind my ear. I blush profusely.

"Your so gorgeous baby, you know that" he talks in low voice while questioning me. But no- I can't fall for this right now.

"No Joe don't try to sweet talk your way outta this, you gotta get your grade up otherwise you won't be able to play" I remind him. He groans loudly before throwing his head back clearly annoyed.

I don't blame him because this is a pretty hard class, even for me. "C'mon Joe-" I get cut off with lips being smashed onto mines.

I try to pull away but he only deepens the kiss. I decide to let him get everything outta him, before I lecture him a little. He pulls away smiling at me with a proud look on his face. He reaches out and runs his finger over my now bruised bottom lip.

"Joe now seriously let's do a few more questions…then we can lay down and take a nap together" I try to compromise.

"Alright fine" he replies. What takes about 30 minutes we get through about 4 questions and I can see Joe's kinda starting to get the hang of it.

"Can we finally lay down?!” he pleads me in a whiny voice.

I nod my head and leads me to our bed. I lay down on my back and he crawls on top of me, laying his head on my chest. I start running my hands through his hair and within a few minutes I hear light snores. Before I know it I feel myself falling into a deep sleep too.

I wake up the next morning and get ready for my first class. I always wake up earlier then Joe because I like a fresh start to my day. I usually wake Joe up around 15 minutes before we leave cause he barely takes any time to get ready.

We get through all our classes and before we know it, it's break. Me and Joe hold hands walking through the courtyard. Usually during break we just sit under a tree and chill. I read occasionally if he wants to throw a football around with his friends. But it's rare cause he claims he would rather spend his time with me.

We place ourselves down under the big tree that gives a shadow to block the sun. I open my book bag and pull out the text books we need for him to study.

"Babyyyy nooo, not during break" he whines. I try not to giggle at his tone.

"Yes Joe, you have a practice that runs late tonight, when you get home your not gonna wanna study and the test is tomorrow, so you need to study" I explain.

He surprisingly complies and nods while he leans his head onto my shoulder.

"Ok so I'm gonna give you a few practice questions, and if you need help wait until the end, I want you to try these yourself at first" I announce.

I grab my notebook and write out a few questions. I hand the book over to him and I see him writing. A few minutes later he hands me back the notebook.

He had a confident look on his face and I hate to burst his bubble but these were all wrong. "Joe sweetie, these are wrong, but you got all the steps right, your just rushing the end" I exclaim.

He's truly so smart he just needs to try harder, and if he did I'm confident he would be doing phenomenal in all his classes.

"I know, I just don't have any motivation for this type stuff" he tells me. He leans forward and tries to give me a kiss. I back away and he groans.

"Y/n baby, please let me kiss you" he begs. A idea then pops into my head.

"Okay Joe, how bout every question you get right, you get a kiss, but… don't rush otherwise you won't get one" I compromise to him.

His eyes light up. He shoots up and sits up straight. "Yeah yeah lets do that, gimme some questions" he says almost excitedly. I laugh at his excitement.

I hand him the notebook and this time he takes about 20 minutes, I calmly read waiting for him.

I look over the answers and squeal. "Yes Joe! These are all right! I'm so proud of you, your gonna do great on the test" I exclaim.

He smiles at me proudly "that's because I have the best tutor" he tells me. He then quickly pulls me by my sweater and smashes his lips onto mine. We share a mini makeout session, until I feel my head throbbing in pain.

I quickly pull away and keep my eyes shut, the pain is so bad. "Hey! What the fuck man! Why the fuck would you do that" I hear Joe yelling.

I open my eyes and see that a football is right beside me. Great. I've had a football thrown at my head.

"Owww" I whine out while trying to contain myself from crying.

Joe collects all my books and puts them into my bag, he then picks me up and I nuzzle my face into his neck, his cologne calming and distracting me from the pain.

When he stops walking I open my eyes to see we are in the nurses office. Joe explains what happend to me to the nurse.

She quickly tests me out. "Ok well, it's not a concussion, but I suggest you rest now, stay home from school tomorrow and go back if you feel right" she tells me.

I thank her and we leave, while we walk to our dorm room, Joe's shit talking the guy who through the football at me, and about how he's gonna beat him up during practice.

When we get back Joe lays me down on our bed and gets a ice pack placing it on my head.

"I'm gonna stay here, instead of go to practice today" he lets me know.

I feel guilt wash over me. "No no, go Joe I'll be alright" I try to convince him. He doesn't budge at all though and pulls me onto his chest.

The rest of the night we spend cuddled up in our bed watching movies and order takeout.

The next morning I wake up before Joe per usual and decided I don't feel good enough to go to school. I wake up Joe and inform him he needs to get ready, but I'll be staying here.

He offers to stay with me, but I protest since he has that test today.

"Your gonna do great baby, just remember take your time and double check your answers." I tell him.

When it's time for him to go he kisses me softly before asking if I need anything before he leaves, which i refuse to.

I spend my day reading a book I've needed to get to, I took the opportunity since I had nothing better to do.

I look at the time and see Joe should be back any minute. While I'm finishing the book I hear the door slam open. I turn to my side to see Joe with a massive smile on his face.

"Baby, baby! Look what I got on the test" he practically yells. He walks over to me and sticks his hand out. I take the paper from him to see '93%' bolded in red in the corner of the page.

"Joe, you did it! I knew you could do it! I'm so proud of you!" I tell him excitedly.

The rest of the night is a calm night, I decide I need some fresh air so I sit on the bleachers reading during Joe's practice. And we spend our night embraced in each other's arms.

[urbanqhoul]

IIIIITSS Commission round up time yet again~ Commissions are open peek here if you're interested~ https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LHyQKT0WERH5GSxu6v2jex2wFk6OSd4Ld1Mns8oFn3s/edit?usp=sharing

[saltysideblog]

Gotham, exterior, night

Robin, Batman and The White Rabbit stand on a roof, staking out an abandoned building across the street. Robin stretches and groans,

Robin: We've been at this all night! What time is it?

White Rabbit checks a golden pocket watch on a chain looped around her waist,

White Rabbit: Almost two AM...

Batman does not look up from his binoculars,

Batman: You really committed to the theme.

White Rabbit: Seems to be the only way to be taken seriously 'round here...

She hands him a small object,

White Rabbit: Is this bat shaped throwing knife yours?

Batman: Touché.

Robin, still stretching: They're called batarangs.

White Rabbit, laughing: What? That's the most ridiculous thing l've ever heard!

Robin: Hey, don't look at me! I didn't come up with it!

Both Robin and The White Rabbit look over at Batman expectantly.

Batman: ...

Batman: I thought it was funny.

Robin: Told ya!

White Rabbit: I'll be darned, I had no idea Batman had a playful side!

Batman, smirking: There's a lot you don't know about me.

...later...

District Attorney's office, interior, day

Bruce: What's that on your desk?

He points to a batarang being used as a paperweight. Wendy picks it up and hands it to him,

Wendy: This? A gift from The Batman.

Bruce: Someone pinch me, is Wendy Babbitt a friend of The Batman?

Wendy: Now now, Mr. Wayne, don't mistake my fondness for the man as an endorsement of his methods.

Bruce: You're fond of him? Must've been quite an evening...

He sits on the edge of her desk, turning the batarang around in his hand. She crosses her arms,

Wendy: Why do you care so much, Wayne? If I didn't know any better, l'd say you were jealous.

Bruce: No! No... just surprised.

Wendy: Sure. Well, you know, if you save my life once or twice, I may grow fond of you yet.

Bruce, pouting: You haven't already?

Wendy rolls her eyes with a smile and grabs her coat. She doesn't have the courage to tell him... more than you know.

Wendy: C'mon, Bruce, I'm starving.

Bruce stalls, feigning hurt. Wendy laughs, shoving him off her desk,

Wendy: I can tell you all about him on the way.

Bruce stands, chucking the batarang back on the desk.

Bruce: It's a bit... oddly shaped, wouldn't you say?

Wendy, eagerly: That's not the half of it, you'll never believe what he calls those things!

Bruce smiles, holding the door open for her. Their conversation continues and fades out as they leave together.

[voxmortuus]

►PAIRING: Tangerine x Fem!Reader ►UNIVERSE: Bullet Train ►WORDS: 1.3k ►SUMMARY/PROMPT: Tangerine is constantly traveling for his work. Never really in one place for too long. Never gets attached, the only person he's ever truly loved was his brother. But work brought him back to that place. That place you met. That place you had such a beautiful night together, that one time he let down his walls, and that one night he opened up, and that one night of nothing but raw passion. Standing there, that spot on the beach, the palm trees, and the sounds of the waves crashing sends Tangerine into a trance, and it all comes rushing back to him. That's the night that crosses his mind. It's been a year, and it's as fresh in his mind as the night it happened. ►SONG INSPIRATION: Heat Waves - Glass Animals ►TRIGGER WARNINGS: Unguarded "soft" Tangerine | Public Intoxication Tipsy feeling not drunk | Heavy Petting & Making-out | Public Nudity | Sex on the beach | Vaginal Unprotected Penetration | Hints of Internal Ejaculation | Cuddling | Multiple times implied | Tangerine Waking you up to go back to work | Cliff Hanger | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this… ►NOTE: Sorry if this isn't what you expected, or had envisioned yourself, I apologize. But I hope you enjoyed my vision. ►IMAGE & DIVIDER CREDIT: @nyxvuxoa ►My Master Masterlist

The hot sand mixed with sunscreen and maybe even a hint of coconut, a sweet scent, an enveloping scent, a warm scent that takes over that memory part of the brain, that memory part that taps into the pleasure senses. The gurgling waves were metronomic. The gushing waves were comforting. The humming of the wave song beguiled him. The sea was kindling its own symphony. It was as if it was putting him in a trance. Standing there, the salty breeze kissed his face, his bright gray eyes closed for a moment and that's when it settled in. That memory from that one night a year to this very day.

"Careful! You're going to spill the bottle!" you chuckled watching him as he took a sip. "You're draggin' me Darlin'! Course I'm going to spill the bottle." he chuckled as you both stumbled in the sand. "I don't want you to leave in the morning." you told him. Taking the bottle you place it in the sand after taking a swig from it and you place your arms around him and hold him close. Looking up you gaze into his eyes. "Can't you just... miss... your flight?" you asked him with a small pout on your lips. "Darlin' I wish I could. But I don't think they'd appreciate that very much. They'll come looking for me and then what are we going to do?" He looked over your face and pushed the hair from your face. Leaning in he kissed you sweetly, lovingly, yearning for that connection.

He never got close with people, but there was something about you that just really made him want to be close. Maybe it was your curves, maybe it was the way you spoke, the way you carried yourself. It could have been anything, but it was enough for this workaholic to stop and take notice of you, and to want to spend time with you. Especially like this.

Eventually, both of you find your way to the sitting in the sand, you're straddling his lap, your hands on his shoulders, and they move up to play at his hairline. You lean in and nuzzled into him. You nipped at his lips. Holding him close you run your nose along his jaw taking in his scent. Feeling his hands on your waist, moving up under your shirt.

Your breathing picked up a bit, and your skin was sensitive from the consumption of liquor. But you were of sound mind, you knew exactly what he was doing, what you were doing. Leaning in you kiss him deeply, and your tongue finds its way to dance with his, doing a sensual tango. You feel him getting excited under you, feeling the twitch of excitement. Letting out a jagged breath, you grind your hips against him. His hands find their way to your ass and gripped you and pull you closer to him.

He watches you for a brief moment, and there were no words spoken. He knew what you wanted, and boy did he want it too. He wet his lips slowly running his tongue over his lower lip and he moves his hands to strip the shirt from your figure, removing the bathing suit top with it. He tossed it to the side. Returning the loss of shirt with him as well, he turns both of you over, and the sand, warm from the heat of the sun from earlier that day caresses the curves of your back as you fall upon it.

Moving to stay between your legs, he gets on his knees and looks down at you. He wanted to admire you, he wanted to just look at you. He reaches forward and unties the cover-up skirt and your bikini bottoms opening them up to see all of you. The way the moonlight hits your body, he smiles, taking every curve in, taking each and every ounce of you in. Logging it in his memory bank.

Reaching forward you run your hand over his stomach, playing at his own curves of how his body worked against your fingers you smile into a giggle, and you bite your lip and you sit up, and reach forward and lower his swim trunks and look over him. He was beautiful, you thought of him the same way he thought of you.

Grabbing at his hips you bring him back to you, wanting to feel his weight against you, wanting to feel that warmth against you. You wanted to feel him. When he came to hover over you, he took your hands and placed them on his sides, as he leaned in and planted his lips against yours, kissing you deeply, yearning still. His member pressing against your swollen lower wanting eager lips.

The dewy wetness coated the underside of his hard member as he moved in such a way the tip of his member slipped into your eager hole. Licking his lips, he leaned in and kissed you deeply. As your hands gripped his sides, his forehead rested against yours and he let out a slow groan as you let out a heavy moan. How he felt, it was like you felt each and every vein, each and every groove of his cock against your lips, against your velvet, wet, warm, wanting walls.

As he thrusts you whimper and moan, and as he grunts and groans, the sounds of your bodies colliding was hidden and masked by the crashes of the waves on the shore.

His hands move to yours and he moves them above your head, his motions were loving, passionate, they were personal. This felt more personal than he could fathom. He was lost in this moment with you, his eyes locking with yours, your moans matched his. It was how you both moved.

Moving you both work together to find yourself on top of him. At first, you're laying against him, your hips moving against his member. Your breasts pressed against him, his hands dragging down your sides and after picking up some pace you move to your hands pressed into his chest as you begin to bounce on him, your head falling back as you press him into you, feeling him hit that back wall, that perfect spot found.

Rocking your hips your breasts bouncing, his hands cupping them, both of you let your moans be carried off by the wind. Carried out to sea finding the sirens of the deep as you both let out such a finishing moan you both tremble. The way that finish filled you was one you will never forget. That finish seemed to just come on so strong, and it was the way you moved together. The way your moans played off the waves it was an intoxicating tune of an echo that seemed to play on those waves for many clicks.

You move to lie next to him, your fingers play against his chest, no words exchanged, there were no need for words to be exchanged. But it was like you both couldn't keep your hands off each other. You didn't want to, he didn't want to. It was nothing but raw passion. Genuine and true. You couldn't keep your distance, feeling how he filled you again, and again.

Ring... Ring... He groans and checks his phone, damn near dead, he looks down at you, the sun just now coming up, he moves some hair behind your ear and leans in and kisses your cheek. He didn't want to wake you but he didn't want just leave you.

"Darlin, wake up, I've gotta go..." he whispers against your ear. "Mmm, please no..." you mutter. "I'm sorry... I wish I could stay. I'm sure we'll see each other soon." He says softly.

Shaking his head he came back from the memory and felt this tightness in his chest. Licking his lips he shoved his hands in his pants pocket and looked down at his feet a moment before turning and walking back to the car. He looks back over his shoulder to see what he thought was you, and an almost one-year-old child.... He tilted his head, but it couldn't be. Could it?

"Look at those waves Clementine."

[leechandoki]

MY SON! I'm sorry that I did you no justice the last time I drew you. His name is Lobo and he just stole a bike and he's taking you with him.

[eventuallyaugust]

try again masterlist smau

pairing/s: florist! kim minju x high school teacher! gp! oc

summary: when batch '16 decides to hold a high school reunion, minju decides it was a good idea to tag along with her friends to attend the event, but a good decision before is a bad decision now if it means encountering her old high school sweetheart and first love, ahn hyunjae.

"you still like tulips?"

"yes, what about you? do you still love marigolds?"

"yeah, i still love them (the same way i still love you)."

tags... crack, fluff; angst; hurt; no beta we die like men; second chance romances; exes-to-friends-to-lovers; non-idol au, old high school sweethearts meeting again, straight-a troublemaker x straight-a good student, adult au, wlw

warning/s... angst; suggestive/smut themes; dark jokes; strong language, bullying (affectionately); multiple mentions of alcohol and its consumption; violence mentioned; idk anymore, i'll add more if i notice something;

posting schedule.... whenever a sense of motivation hits

featuring... izone, some nmixx members (mostly haewon & bae), some ateez members (mostly wooyoung & seonghwa), and many more idols that are either mentioned or appeared in some chapters.

status... will rewrite

————

profiles. spawns of satan, the chaos within, the flowers in the meadow

chapters (number of chapters & some titles still unidentified)

⭐ - fav chap

[0] the collapse

[1] the gfs are worried

[2] backstreet's back alright

[3] curious minju pt.1

[4] our divorced parents ⭐

[5] what if?? ⭐

[6] stranger danger ⭐

[7] 1st day

[8] new girl?

[9] active era ⭐

[10] yes, better than u

[11] pink tulips (written) ⭐

[12] uh-oh??

[13] hide-and-seek ⭐

[14]

[15]

[16]

[17]

[18]

[19]

[20]

... many more

---

taglist (open!): @awkwardtoafault , @kimsgayness , @dream-chasers-things

°°°°

a/n: jae can be interpreted as the reader or whole other person. it was supposed to be y/n, not jae but i find it hard to imagine if i pair minju to someone i can't imagine, so that's where jae is born.

disclaimer all images and pictures used in this story are not all mine. they belong to their rightful owners and i therefore give credits to their edits. i DO NOT CONDONE or ENCOURAGE the violence mentioned here.

@ eventuallyaugust 2023 | navi

[lottie-dottie-gal]

“ … “

“ so uh — l-live Lottie update. He broke up w-with me — and then left me in the park. At 10 pm. “

“ …I-im gonna call ome of parents and h-hopefully they’ll pick me up. “

[bobfloydsbabe]

I’m so close to finishing the next Eccentric Professor Bob fic. It has mutual jealousy, a heated argument, and a steamy, delicious conclusion. I’m hoping to post early next week at the latest.

Unedited sneak peek under the cut

[spaciebabie]

they show up like this ta ur date wyd

[vriskaserketdaily]

oh hello vriskaserketdaily. could you draw jaspvriskasprite^2 please :)

what in the hell

no

[1shirt2shirtredshirtdeadshirt]

Jim losing his shit again.

Because aliens figured out Spock is perfect awesome mint limited edition one of a kind

And Jim is like

YEAH.

I know.

Get in line.

I was here first.

He's my favourite.

Also Jim putting the "choke" in artichoke as he throttles yet another individual in his madness for Spock, this time an artichoke alieum.

Jim whenever an alien steals Spock:

[zagreusm]

Happy New Year!

[liebgotts-lovergirl]

Fire On Fire: Chapter 24

(Ch. 23) ... (Ch. 1)

II Gallery II Symbol Guide II

Summary: "No, I could never give you peace."

WARNINGS: Angst, Espionage, the usual

Taglist: @latibvles @softguarnere @brassknucklespeirs @mccall-muffin @lieutenant-speirs @emmythespacecowgirl @holdingforgeneralhugs @parajumpboots @hxad-ovxr-hxart @sleepisforcowards @indigo-luvers @ax-elcfucker-blog @chaosklutz @mads-weasley @vibing-away @eightysix-baby @ithinkabouttzu

Contemporary: October 25th, 1944. Driel, Netherlands.

After she finished her story, Alix hung her head, unwilling or unable to glance up, afraid of what she’d see reflected back at her in those pools of honey-brown...

Disgust. Shock. Pity. 

Or worse: Admiration. Affection. Kindness.

Things she didn’t deserve, especially not from Joe.

She hadn’t even realized she'd reached for his hand until he gave it a light, reassuring squeeze. But she didn’t pull away, instead letting their fingers rest together, lightly intertwined.

In another life, she thought to herself. Maybe if things were different...

For a brief second, the spy allowed her mind to meander, imagining what it might be like to live in a world with no war, no Millicent, no familial pressure, a world where they could love each other out loud with nothing standing in their way.

But as Alix studied the subtle burgundy of her chipped nail polish, the ink blotches on Joe's fingertips brought her crashing back to earth.

That wasn't the world they lived in.

That wasn't a world she'd ever see.

The soft rasp of gravel in Joe’s voice brought her focus back. 

"That Larsson guy really threatened to kick you out 'cause you didn’t wanna kill a fuckin' kid?"

Alix nodded and she could hear a dangerous, razor-sharp edge enter his tone but it wasn't directed at her. 

"I'd like to meet the guy." 

It was a simple statement but the way Joe had said "meet" sounded an awful lot like "murder". 

"You wouldn't like him," Alix replied with a rueful grimace and Joe chuckled darkly and moved to crack his knuckles. 

"Yeah well, after me and him go a few rounds in the ring, I bet he wouldn't like me too much either." 

Alix turned her head away to hide her smile and there was another beat of silence between the pair before Joe spoke again. 

“Y'know that’s not all you are, right?” 

Alix's head jerked up in surprise before she could stop it. 

"What?" 

"A killer," the technician clarified and she could feel the physical shift of him rubbing the back of his neck, scruffing up his light brown hair. 

"I don't give a shit what he…what they told you. You're so much fuckin' more than that." 

Alix pressed her lips into a grimace. 

She wanted to believe him, she really did. But after a month of silence and then that letter…everything he said just rang hollow.

“You don’t know me," the spy mumbled defensively. “Not really.” 

If you did, you wouldn’t want me.

But Joe gently leaned his shoulder against hers again. 

"I do though," he replied, the light rasp in his voice contrasting with the softness of his tone. "Better than ya think." 

"Prove it then," Alix challenged as she crossed her arms and Joe tilted his head in thought, clearly pondering an opener. 

“'Kay, well, your favorite color is red–” 

Alix opened her mouth to correct him but Joe was quicker. 

“I know, I know, 'scarlet'…” He commented with exaggerated air quotes before adding wryly, “But it's the same thing, which is fuckin’ red.” 

“Is that all you’ve got?” the spy inquired cynically as she bit back a giggle at his dramatics.

“And you got a smart-ass comment for everything,” Joe teased before deftly tugging a pack of Chesterfields from his pocket.

“Want one?” 

Alix nodded eagerly, thanking him as she plucked one from the packaging but when the technician retrieved his Zippo, Alix hesitated. 

She knew better than to bring her face closer so he could give her a light. 

She would have to lean in close to his lips, almost as if… she shook her head, trying to banish the thought. 

His heart belongs to someone else, she reminded herself. It wouldn’t be right.

Noticing her reluctance, Joe’s face seemed to fall, but he handed her the lighter anyway, his fingertips brushing ever so slightly against hers as he pressed the smooth metal into her grasp.

Alix tried to ignore the giddy sensation and focused on lighting her cigarette while he resumed his Herculean task.

"You never take your rosary off," he pointed out after a slow drag. “And you say you don’t believe it does anything but when you get nervous, you still bite your lip and reach for it anyway.” 

Did she really? The spy was impressed and a little intrigued but still tried her hardest to feign nonchalance for pride’s sake.

“Congratulations,” Alix remarked dryly. “You have eyes.” 

Joe cocked an eyebrow. 

“Shit, alright, tough crowd,” he quipped with a smirk. 

“Lemme think… You only drink Gin & Tonics now ‘cause ya went a little too hard on the vodka at some party once and spent the rest of the night upchucking into the bushes.”

Alix felt her cheeks beginning to flush, now wishing distinctly that she would evaporate on the spot. 

Had she really done that? She only hoped to God it hadn’t been in front of him.

But Joe seemed to take her silent mortification as skepticism because he added, “Muck told me." 

"That bastard," Alix muttered but there was no venom behind her words and Joe chuckled, running a hand through his hair.

“Go easy on the guy,” the Californian joked with a sheepish grin. “It was a while back. I just got a good memory, ‘specially when it comes to you, I guess.” 

Alix took a quick drag and wound a strand of her hair around finger absentmindedly, unsure of quite how to respond to his kindness.

“Well thank you… I think?” 

“Don’t thank me yet, Ziskeit,” Joe shrugged with an easy smile. 

“‘Cause I ain’t done."

He took a short drag, watching the smoke rise in spiraling plumes before giving her a sly look out of the corner of his sparkling brown eyes. 

“You left your window unlocked fer me when we were back in Aldbourne so I could get into your room without anybody seein' me–”

He chuckled and teasingly gave her a light nudge.

"--Not that it mattered anyway ‘cause you left me with so many fuckin' hickeys and scratches that our old CO said it looked like I’d been mauled by a fuckin’ bear.”

Alix drew her bottom lip between her teeth and dropped her gaze to the ground, certain now that she was a brilliant shade of crimson. 

Joe haphazardly tossed his cigarette away before continuing, 

“You been trained in deception or whatever but when it comes to people close to ya, y'can’t lie for shit. Like right now–" 

He gently slid a finger under the spy’s chin and gently turned her to face him. 

“– Tell me you ain’t got feelings for me.”

Her eyes must’ve looked like saucers.

“W-What?” she choked out, blinking in confusion as her heartbeat stuttering to a near-stop at his sudden proximity.

“Tell me you don't want me, Zees,” he insisted, the huskiness of his voice seeming to slow time and his gaze seemed to flit down to her lips before returning to her eyes.  

"'Cause I think you do."

It was a dare but behind his trademark cockiness was a current of desperation, his warm whiskey eyes pleading with her for the truth, whatever it might be. 

“Look, you want me outta your life for good, all you gotta do is say it: say you don’t want me and mean it. Yeah, ‘s gonna hurt like a bitch, I'm not gonna bullshit ya, but I gotta know, Zees. 'Cause right now...Me and you and Doc, I-"

His voice broke and he took a second before running his thumb lightly across her cheek, brushing away a tear. 

She hadn't even realized she'd been crying.

The paratrooper set his jaw and when he spoke again, there was a quiet determination in his voice, as though he was forcing it under control.

"Zees, if I gotta love you from a distance, then that's just what I gotta do.”

Alix faltered, momentarily lost for words, her stunned expression mirrored in the glossy reflection of Joe’s dark eyes.

The words were on the tip of her tongue: 

I love you. I want you, only you. Always you.

But she knew she couldn’t say them, no matter how badly she wanted to.

It wouldn’t be fair– 

Not to Millicent, who was counting on her sweetheart to be faithful from an ocean away. 

Not to Gene, whose schoolboy crush seemed to be the only thing keeping him from crumbling to pieces some days.

And most importantly, not to Joe who deserved far better than a damaged girl who could never give him the peace his turbulent soul so desperately longed for.

Her chest ached helplessly, her pulse seeming to radiate through her upper body as though her heart was trying to force its way to him. 

“Joey, I-”

The thunderous roar of her name being called cut her off before she could get any further and her head swiveled immediately toward the sound. 

It was her case officer who burst into the clearing with a radio in one hand and a bag in the other, its red stripes designating it as an OSS burn bag. 

“Martinelli, grab your shit,” Nixon commanded, looking more alert than she'd seen him since Survival drills. “We’ve got to move now!” 

With a last apologetic glance in Joe’s direction, Alix sprang to her feet and hurriedly began stuffing her stack of comic books into her canvas bag before bolting off after her handler, who was already several strides ahead of her and showing no signs of stopping.

“Hey! Hey Nix!” she called after him, trying to provoke some sort of response but instead of his usual dramatics over her neglecting to address him properly, he ordered her to hand over her bag. 

Once she had, he began tearing through it like a madman, rifling through her comics and the letter from her aunt, pushing past her knives, garrote wire, and the vials of Prussic Acid neatly rolled into bandages. 

“What the hell– ?” Alix demanded just as he swiped her false documents from the side pocket and shoved them into his burn bag.

“Have you lost your mind?!" she hissed, trying to grab his arm to stop him. "I fucking need those!” 

"Not anymore you don't," Nixon reported, shrugging her off and lighting the Zippo. “You've been compromised.”  

"What, how?!" 

Alix felt her stomach lurch and she searched her handler’s face for the slightest trace of deception but found none.

 

"Madonna mia," she breathed as they both watched the burn bag begin to crackle, the terrifying reality sinking in. 

"How bad was the leak?"

"Bad," Nixon uttered, shaking his head. 

"Payce and De Luca were executed yesterday. Bouchard's been captured. Perrault's MIA. God only knows about the rest. I haven't heard."

They might've captured Jennie?!

Alix took a deep breath, trying in vain to calm her racing thoughts and keep a cool head. 

"You'll have to lay low for awhile," Nixon stated, sounding almost apologetic as they watched her identity papers begin to disintegrate in the blaze. 

"Donovan's got a place you can go, an agency safehouse. I'll bring you updates when I can." 

"How many?” she asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

"How many of my covers have been compromised…?" 

The captain swallowed hard before responding, his voice coming out as brittle as broken bone.

“All of them.”

[tafferling]

Call it in the air~ / Heads or tails    Heads we go to London~     And try to save the Queen    Tails we go to Paris~    And try our hand at romance I need a chance to show you~    That I'll take you anywhere. So call it in the air.

Kyle Crane and his Paper Tiger. Dreaming of a kinder life.

I’m speechless. @johdals has brought a piece to life that holds unmeasurable meaning to me. And for that I will be forever grateful. Thank you. 

[thealterscrolls]

WIP WEDNESDAY BUT IT’S A FRIDAY

many a wednesday has passed since @wispstalk tagged me to do this and i’m finally getting around and remembering to doing this! here’s a segment from the Raining Stars draft, my hero of kvatch/martin fic! snippet is from the perspective of ambrosius rex. ambrosius has DID (unaware) and dissociates in this snippet. i know i’ve shared this one in places before but i’ve changed it up a fair bit since then. also i really like it so idc

i honestly don’t know who’s all actively writing stuff at the moment so i’m not going to tag anyone specifically. boring i know. sorry. consider this post a tag and tag me if you share a wip because i want to read them!

without further ado, the wip:

Jauffre leans away from me, attempting to stand on his own. “We don’t really have time to talk. We must get Martin somewhere safe.”

Martin turns to him. “Who might you be?”

I quickly speak for him. “This is Jauffre, grandmaster of the Blades.”

“Jauffre,” Martin repeats to himself quietly, pausing to think for a moment. “I’ve seen you before. I know your face.”

Jauffre sighs. “I travel a lot in my line of work.”

Martin visibly scrutinizes him but says nothing.

“Jauffre’s right,” I interject. “We have to go.”

Before any of us can say more, Savlian strides up beside me and claps a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sure Ambrosius here told you the good news, brother Martin, that the gate is closed, but I doubt he mentioned that it’s all thanks to him. You should have seen him. Man fought like a beast!”

“Oh, did he now,” Jauffre asks.

I don’t know if he doubts it or if he’s impressed by that question. I can’t find it in myself to say anything.

“Ambrosius practically slaughtered all those daedra on his own,” Savlian continues. “We simply followed.”

“Last night I would have found that hard to believe, but today—” Jauffre doesn’t finish the thought.

“I saw him with my own two eyes and could scarcely believe it. I wasn’t sure who I was more terrified of: him or the daedra!”

All I can do is nod along with him. I feel strange. Exhausted. Empty. A bit uneasy in my stomach. As much as I want to hear Savlian’s story of what I can’t remember, I can hardly pay attention to what anyone is saying. I’m not sure I want to hear it anymore either.

Before I get lost in myself any further, I politely excuse myself from the conversation. Martin offers an arm to Jauffre who in turn acquiesces and takes it. I wander away a distance, sitting down in a pew to catch my breath. My body sinks down heavily against the stone.

I’m not sure how long I sit there, fading in and out of focus. After a while, someone sits down a space over from me.

Martin speaks. “Savlian and his men are taking back the rest of the city. They figured you deserved a chance to rest.”

“Where’s Jauffre?”

“Oleta is seeing to him. She’s the healer here. One of the best in Cyrodiil.”

I lift an eyebrow. “However did you manage a thing like that?”

“Well it wasn’t easy,” he laughs. “Oleta was stern with him, and I might have told him I wouldn’t leave otherwise.”

“I’m surprised you got that to work.”

He shifts in the pew, taking a breath. “I don’t savor the idea, but I imagine it has something to do with being the only heir. Allegedly, that is.” His tone sounds lighthearted but if I didn’t know any better, I’d swear there’s a weight to it as well.

I snort softly in acknowledgment. There isn’t much I can say to that. I’m hardly one to pretend to understand the complexities of such a situation.

“Well, anyhow,” Martin continues. “Tierra plans to escort the townspeople to the camp outside the city, but we have to make sure everyone’s ready and safe to move, including Jauffre.”

“That makes sense.”

We sit in silence for a moment. Then he turns towards me slightly. “Are you doing okay?”

No. “I’m fine.”

He may as well have scoffed. “Nobody is fine. Not when the daedra are slaughtering our people and it feels as if the world is coming to an end. I know things are wrong, so you’re not sparing me from anything by pretending otherwise.”

He doesn’t know what’s wrong, not completely. I nod my head anyway. “Alright then, I’m not fine. But forgive me if I don't explain further. I’ve got nothing to do with the gods so I don’t think I’d find a priest’s words very comforting.”

Martin takes a breath and looks away, appearing visibly shamed. His voice is quieter than before. “No, forgive me. It wasn’t my intentions to preach at you. If it’s any consolation, I had no such ‘priestly’ words to offer. Truth be told, I’m having trouble with my own faith now.” He pauses, and almost laughs out his next sentence. “And something tells me I won’t be a priest anymore after this anyway.”

“Not sure that makes me feel any better either,” I say, slightly bemused.

“Didn’t think so,” he snorts softly. “But I prayed—I hoped for deliverance. And it came. So that’s comfort enough for me. I don’t think I can thank the gods quite yet, but I can thank you.”

Saying “you’re welcome” doesn’t seem an appropriate response, so I nod my head again. I turn my head towards the people huddled in the chapel, towards the living and the dead. Few among them appear hopeful. The rest are scared, perhaps not of the Gate or the daedra anymore, but rather, of the future and the uncertainty of it all. I can’t take credit for saving any of them.

I wonder how many of them are experiencing such a thing for the first time in their lives. Is this their first crisis? Perhaps their second? Maybe all their problems had been small, which is not to say they were any less painful. Of all the crises I went through, none of them had ever reached this scale. None threatened all of Tamriel. Maybe it’s a first for all of us.

“I haven’t saved anyone,” I whisper. “I didn’t stop anything. Their lives are forever ruined and I can’t help them. I’ve placed a sackcloth scrap on a severed limb.”

Martin shakes his head. “There are times when stopping the bleeding is all you can do.” He almost doesn’t sound convinced of his words himself when he says it.

I want to tell him that’s not so. I want to say that’s more than what I’ve done. I want to say many things. I know I could keep arguing with him, but it would all be futile. Nothing comes out. My eyelids fill with heavy moisture and my mind feels far away again.

I’ve been bleeding my whole life.

[saltysideblog]

Greasy Spoon, interior, day

Wendy and Bruce sit in a booth across from each other. Wendy is dressed casually, Bruce is wearing a suit. He looks out of place but Wendy's happy demeanour puts him at ease.

Wendy: I love this place.

Bruce: Because of the deep fried pancakes?

Wendy points at him with her fork, syrup dripping onto her plate,

Wendy: And the atmosphere. It's the little things, y'know?

She takes a bite and hums in delight.

Wendy: No matter how busy I get, I hope I'm never too busy for these.

Bruce laughs, digging into his own fried monstrosity. Wendy watches him, sun pouring in from the window behind her, bathing him in golden light. It's the little things…

Bruce holds up his fork,

Bruce: To the little things.

She taps a sticky piece of fried dough against his,

Wendy: To deep fried pancakes.

Bruce: And good company.

She smiles,

Wendy: And good company.

They both have another bite and Bruce chuckles,

Bruce: This is too much…

Wendy: Funny, coming from someone who grew up eating caviar.

Bruce: Don't forget foie gras.

Wendy laughs and her cheeks flush a dusty pink, the sunlight pouring in from the window behind her creates a halo around her dark hair. No matter how busy Bruce Wayne gets…

Batman will find the time.