#and get a restraining order for jon

[redjayson02]

That inevitable moment during comic reading where you realize that the Batman Fandom on any and all platforms is completely insufferable and should not be allowed near any other part of the DC Universe.

I thought Wally and Dick were like the biggest best friends in the history of ever. They are not, They are good friends that do love each other but I have seen more sexual tension between Dick and literally any other male character he interacts with. And Wally gets five hundred times more interesting when he isn't forced to be Dick Grayson's taxi service.

Roy needs a restraining order for Jason Todd. I cannot begin how horrifically N52 massacred Roy's entire character and how badly Jason treats him.

And Hal Jordan needs a restraining order for every single BatLantern shipper out there because that is one of the most abuse coded "relationships" I have ever had the displeasure of seeing. Bruce is downright VILE towards Hal and it is not in a fun "enemy to lovers" way but in a "he hit me and I let him" way.

Hell, even the Supers need to be kept away from the Batfam and the Batfam Stans. The only one that is not more interesting solo is Jon but that's because he is a piece of cardboard.

[unmotivatedwrit3r]

One in Eleven Million (ch. 9)

damian wayne x reader x jon kent

(A/N): So I have literally drafted the post for the last chapter in order to get it out by the end of the year. It will happen, I swear.

Series masterlist can be found here.

warnings: anxiety, airport, train station

wc: ~1300

The baggage claim area was packed when they arrived. Damian scanned the crowd quickly once, then once more. He knew you had a bag. You had to be there. A large man elbowed his way through the crowd and Damian had to restrain himself from forcibly removing the man from his vicinity. 

“Anything?” Jon asked from beside him. Damian opened his mouth to say no. His eye caught on movement in his periphery. 

“There.” 

You were off to the side, most likely trying to avoid getting trampled by the crowd. Your arms were wrapped tightly around yourself, eyes scanning the moving conveyor belt despite its lack of suitcases. 

“Hi,” Jon started as they came up behind you. You let out a startled exclamation, nearly tripping over your feet in an effort to see who was talking to you.  

Damian winced internally. He figured you’d hear the rattle of their carry-on bags. In hindsight, everyone was carrying some form of luggage. They were standing at the baggage claim. 

“Hi,” You said. “What are you doing here? I thought you left.” 

Damian’s heart tweaked in his chest. He heard what you didn’t say: I thought you left me.

“I mean I know you don’t have suitcases,” you rambled on, “so there’s literally no reason-”

“We were looking for you,” Jon interjected. “Even if you didn’t want to see us again, we could have at least said goodbye.” He was hurt, Damian realized, getting defensive.

“No no that’s not what I meant.” Your voice was frantic. “I just-I know you don’t have large bags and you have each other and probably some better way to get home than finding a last-minute train so when I didn’t see you, I figured you’d just…” The sentence trailed off in a shrug. 

“But we’re here,” Damian argued. “And Jon and I were already planning to take public transport.” 

Your eyes searched beside Jon’s shoulder, scanning the suitcases coming down the conveyor belt. 

“Do you need help getting your bag?” Jon asked, following your gaze. 

“No, I got it. Meet you back here when I get it?” 

Damian nodded. 

“Do you want to leave your backpack here?” 

He could almost see you mentally combing through the pros and cons. 

“If you leave with my stuff,” you began lightheartedly. Damian could hear the underlying anxiety in your voice. “I’m going to be really pissed off.” 

You handed the bag to Jon and disappeared into the crowd around the belt. 

“Do they think we would?” Jon asked Damian. Damian resisted the urge to reach up and smooth the wrinkle in between his eyebrows. “Just leave, that is? I mean if they knew who we were-”

“What’s to stop them from thinking they’re an obligation then either?” 

Jon sighed, pouting. Damian bit back a smile. It was adorable.

“You’re right. I hate it when you're right. It happens way too often.” 

A huff of laughter escaped Damian. A moment of comfortable silence lingered in the air, interrupted by you pushing through the crowd with a suitcase. 

“Okay this is it,” you declared, taking your backpack back from Jon. Your relief was unmistakable. “So the train stop that gets us to the main station is in terminal A, I think. Are you guys taking a train back too?” Jon shrugged, glancing at Damian.

“We hadn’t actually gotten that far yet.”

“If we need to catch a local train, we should head that way now,” Damian suggested. “We’ll figure out the rest on the way.”

“So what train are you taking?” Jon asked halfway to the airport train platform. 

“Uhh wait one sec.” You pulled out your phone, tapped the screen a couple times, then handed it to him. “Here. That’s my ticket.”

Jon turned the screen—open on the Amtrak app—towards Damian. He was already pulling out his phone. Damian dipped his head towards the screen, scanning the list of trains for the correct one before purchasing two tickets. Bruce’s credit card auto-filled into the payment information. Damian doubted his father would even notice. 

“Alright, we all have tickets for the 119 train to Gotham.” Jon handed your phone back and you shoved into your pocket. 

“Now we just have to get there.”

~

You didn’t think Jon had ever been in a train station before. Or at least not this one. He’d spent the majority of the half hour you’d all been sitting in the station alternating between talking to either you or Damian or looking around and asking you questions about your previous experiences on trains. 

“You have a terrible track record with transportation,” he frowned at you after you recounted a two-hour train delay. It had pushed your arrival time at home until past two in the morning. The face he made was really sweet. “Yeah I kinda do,” you laughed, shifting on the wooden bench.

Train stations overall, you found, were less overfilled and more comfortable than the airport, this one especially. You wouldn’t want to get delayed at Gotham Station (you knew that from experience too), but this station was much nicer. Less so at midnight, but that had more to do with your exhaustion at that time than the station. Damian, on your other side, was typing on his phone. He’d gotten up a little while before to make a call then came back and declared he’d sorted out who was picking him and Jon up once they arrived in Gotham. 

You glanced up at the big screen in front of you once again. This time, your gate and track number were up on the board. 

“Gate seven, track eight,” you read aloud. Beside you, Damian’s eyes snapped up to the board. Jon turned to look at you. 

“What?”  You pointed at the screen. 

“Our gate and track number. We should go now before the line gets too huge so we can get seats not already occupied.” 

Damian nodded, collecting his belongings. Jon followed, pulling his jacket back on before flashing you a smile. 

“Alright, let’s go.” 

You were quickly vindicated in your decision. The boarding line stretched all the way out towards the restrooms at the back of the station. When you got on, the train wasn’t empty, but it was close enough. With an origin in Baltimore and an end stop of New York, Philadelphia was one of the larger stops on the train’s path. You dropped into the first empty seat you saw with a likewise empty seat behind it, shoving your suitcase into the limited space allotted to legroom. It didn’t fit, but you really didn’t want to check your bag. Again.

Damian dropped into the seat behind you. Jon sat down next to you. 

“What-?” you asked, confused. “Don’t you want to sit together?”

“We are,” Jon shrugged. He leaned towards you, voice lowered. “Besides, Damian could probably use an hour not squished in between a whole bunch of people.” 

You turned around just enough to see Damian shove both his and Jon’s carry-ons onto the window seat and sink down heavily into the aisle seat. 

“That’s smart; I do it too,” you approved. “No one wants to take the window seat with a stranger.” Damian offered you a nod in exchange. He looked the way you felt after hours upon hours spent with people you weren’t comfortable with. That is to say, socially exhausted. 

You turned back around, crossing your legs so that you could sit somewhat comfortably even with a huge suitcase taking up all your legroom. 

“Turn it sideways,” Jon suggested. “So it’s not so tall.” 

“But it’ll take your legroom,” you protested. Jon shrugged and did it anyway, maneuvering his backpack to rest on top of it. You followed suit, shifting your seating position to accommodate the new space. The fabric of your pants had no traction on the smooth material of the train seats.

“See,” he said. “So much better.” 

“Yeah,” you smiled. “Thanks.” 

Through his glasses, Jon’s eyes shone. 

[nonbinarytoast]

Headcanon that during season 4 when Daisy was trying to restrain herself she started getting restless and started subconsciously bitting things. It started off with chewing on her fingernails but then she would just start biting her hand or a stick that she found.

Jon found out and started giving her random things to chew on. Pens, clipboards, his rib, anything. He ordered many chew sticks from many autism sites and she was very grateful. It became a sort of love language for them. If Daisy didn’t chew on various items in his desk, she was mad at him. If Jon stopped Daisy from chewing on items in his desk, he was mad at her.

This little ritual slowly morphed into Daisy grabbing Jon’s arm and biting it at random, which he didn’t mind because the eye didn’t let him feel it. Anytime Jon was recording a statement or doing anything where he could sit still and do it with one hand, Daisy was using him a chew toy.

There was at least once where Basira walked into the room and Daisy was gnawing on Jon’s wrist. When Basira asked Daisy simply told her “it’s a buried thing” and wouldn’t elaborate

This also means that in season five when she attacked Jon he thought about how a little part of her lunged for him not because he was the archivist, or because he was prey, but because that’s what they used to do all the time. A little part of her did that because she knew he would be okay when no one else would be.

[let-me-love-you-loki]

Yours To Tame--Ch. 9

Chapter 9: One Week Later

            I sat on the edge of the hospital bed and looked at Anna. My clothes were packed in a little overnight bag. There was still an edge of fatigue around me. A fuzziness to my thoughts that made it hard to focus. I’d been cleared of any major damage but told that it would be several weeks before I’d be allowed to wrestle again.

            Sammy was going to be ferociously angry. I was so afraid of what was going to happen when we saw each other for the first time after everything that had happened in the hospital. As if she could read my thoughts, Anna looked up and wrapped her fingers around mine. I was surprised to find that mine were icy cold.

            “Hey,” she said, squeezing my hand firmly. “You aren’t going this alone. Not for one second.”

            I sighed and blinked away the terrified tears that welled up in my eyes. “You can’t be with me all the time, Anna. Besides, I have to go home eventually.”

            “You could come stay with me until we figure out what to do.”

            “That’ll just make Sammy even angrier. It’s already going to be bad enough…” My stomach dropped into my toes. As if I could feel the blows, I curled in on myself, wrapping my arms around my chest. Fear burned like bile up my throat. The venom of terror roiled through my veins. “Best if I just get it over with.”

            Anna scowled and reached up to push some of my hair back from my forehead. Her fingertips hesitated over the raised scar hidden just at my hairline. There was half a dozen more, all carefully camouflaged. I didn’t want to think about how they got there.

            She scowled. “Restraining order, Morgan. Why didn’t you keep the restraining order?”

            “Lawyers are expensive. And he never lived by it anyway.”

            “That’s what the cops are for,” she replied. “His ass should have been in jail years ago.”

            Before I could reply, there was a gentle knock on the door. We both looked up, and I couldn’t help the acute fear that cut through me. It swung open slowly.

            “Everybody decent in there?” Moxley’s voice called out.

            The fear receded so quickly it left me dizzy. “Yeah,” Anna replied. “How about out there?”

            Moxley appeared in the doorway with his arms loaded down with a huge bouquet of flowers and a get well soon balloon tied to the wrist of a huge stuffed teddy bear. There was a faint smile on his face as he practically sauntered across the room.

            “What in the name of—”

            “I told you it was ridiculous,” Bryan said, appearing from around Moxley’s broad shoulder. “One or the other or the other, not all three!”

            Bryan sounded exasperated, and I couldn’t help but grin when he made a face in my direction. “How’re you feeling, Morgan?”

            “Bitch of a headache. Anyone ever tell you two that you’re louder than a frat party on free beer weekend?” I sucked in a breath and held out my free hand toward Anna. “Can I have those glasses?”

            The doctor insisted that I wear a pair of dark, anti-glare sunglasses for the next few weeks. I knew it would help. That going without them would just make the recovery process from the concussion longer. But I knew they’d go missing within an hour of being back home.

            “Those are really pretty, Mox,” Anna said, gesturing to the flowers. “And that little guy is adorable.”

            “Ain’t he?” he laughed. “Name’s Jon.”

            Anna giggled, and I could have sworn that she was blushing. “Isn’t that a coincidence.”

            Bryan rolled his eyes and sank down on the end of the bed. There was a foot or two between us, and he kept his hands in his lap. But I could see the worry in his sky-blue eyes. “Seriously,” he asked softly, “how are you?”

            I shrugged, not quite knowing how to answer. Half a dozen responses existed to that question. “I—”

            “Morgan is out of commission for a couple weeks. And she can’t travel for a few more days, so we’re stuck here for a bit longer.”

            “Where are you staying?” Bryan asked.

            “Hotel,” I replied quietly. “Just until I’m given the okay to go home.”

***

            Bryan felt the moment that Moxley’s eyes turned to him. The two men looked at one another, almost as if they could understand each other without speaking. It didn’t take a genius to realize that home for Morgan meant with Sammy Guevara. And after what he’d heard in that hallway—what he’d learned in the last few days—there was no way he was going to let that happen.

            “You know,” Moxley said as he handed the teddy bear to Anna. “I’ve got a few days off, too. Want some company?”

            Anna smiled at them with something deep and grateful in her eyes. She looked between the two of them and to Morgan and back again before giving a firm nod. “Wouldn’t be so bad, would it, Morgan?”

            He watched Moxley gently tap Morgan’s foot with the tip of his boot. She jumped and drew her knees up to her chest. Her eyes went deer in the headlights wide before going flat and distant. If he looked close enough, he could see the tremble in her limbs that she was trying so desperately to hide.

            A new rush of hate splashed into Bryan as he found himself wondering about why she felt she had to fight to hold it back. If he ever got his hands on Sammy Guevara, he was going to rip him apart one muscle fiber at a time. They’d been by the hospital a few times since their first visit, and it wasn’t lost on them that Sammy was often outside in the parking lot staring at the building. Anna had filled them in that he’d been banned from entering the hospital. Sammy hadn’t been subtle about hiding his distain for them at work this past week, either.

            There wasn’t a doubt in Bryan’s mind that the moment Morgan left this building, Sammy would get his hands on her. And God knew what would happen to her after that. He didn’t want to entertain the thought.

***

            He’s got to get that rage under control, Moxley thought as he held the flowers out to Morgan in the hope of drawing her back out of her shell. He understood the feeling, but he knew that all it would do was scare her right back off. And they couldn’t protect her if she wouldn’t even be around them.

            When Morgan wouldn’t look up, Moxley crouched down so that he could look into her eyes. The pupils were wide, irises so dark they looked black barely visible around them. The terror in them made his guts clench.

            “Hey, it’s all good,” he said quietly. He kept his voice low and his hands in sight as he spoke to her. “It’s just an idea. At least let us make sure that you get to the hotel and get settled in okay.”

            She blinked and then squeezed her glassy eyes shut. He couldn’t tell if it was from the concussion, the meds, or something else entirely. After a few deep breaths, Morgan Knox nodded. Her brow furrowed as if the movement hurt. He supposed it did.

            “Think you guys could give us a lift?” Anna asked, drawing his attention.

            Jon Moxley had never really thought of himself as an intuitive person, but somehow he got the gist of what Anna Jay was really asking. Is he here? He felt his mouth curl into a sneer as he gave her a brief, barely there nod of his head.

            “You grab the gifts and I’ll get the bags,” he said as he straightened himself out. His joints popped and cracked, making him grunt. He thought he saw the ghost of a smile on Morgan’s face. “We’ll bring the car around for princess here. Bryan can handle getting her outside.”

            The two met looked at one another, communicating in a quiet way that wrestlers had. They had both seen Sammy sitting in the driver’s seat of his car in the parking lot. It wasn’t hard to imagine the horrible things that were stuck deep in his mind. Moxley hadn’t exactly seen everything that Bryan had, but he knew for sure that he didn’t like the idea of Morgan going anywhere near the asshole who’d put her in the hospital.

            “We’ll take it slow,” Bryan said as he stood up. He held out his hand to her, palm turned upward. “If you get dizzy, we can stop or get a chair.”

***

            I stared at Bryan’s hand, confusion slipping through my thoughts. “What?” I mumbled.

            His eyes crinkled as he reached his hand closer. “Mox and Anna are going to get the car. I’ll walk out with you to make sure that you don’t get dizzy or anything.”

            My eyes darted toward the door, but Anna had already disappeared out of sight. “I… okay,” I replied, clutching the dark glasses in one hand. For a moment, I didn’t quite know what to do with Bryan’s outstretched hand.

            “It’s okay,” he soothed. “You don’t have to. I’ll just walk close enough that I can catch you if you start to stumble. Is that alright?”

            I swallowed hard, surprised by the rush of feeling that settled deep into my chest. My breath rushed out of me as I reached out and placed my fingers against his palm. I pulled myself to my feet, swaying as the world started to spin.

            Bryan’s hand tightened on mine as he stepped forward to slip his other arm around my waist. “I’ve got you.”

            Squeezing my eyes shut, I leaned into him. “I’m tired,” I whined. “My head hurts.”

            “I know. Hold onto me, and we’ll take it slow,” he soothed. “As soon as we get you to the hotel, you can rest.”

            I let Bryan lead the way, shuffling along beside him with shaking steps. He made me stop and put on the glasses when I whined at the light shining through the windows.

            “You’re going to stay with me, right?”

            Bryan’s fingers tightened on mine. He tensed for just a moment before replying. “If it’ll make you feel safe, of course I will.”

            My head leaned against his shoulder in relief as we took the last few steps toward the door.

____________________________

Tag List

@spaghetti-hoop

@rollynchwhore

@unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin

@mrsmatt

@not-that-kinda-gurl08

@librathepheonix13

[somuchbetterthanthat]

Jonelias week, day 2! Setting: Royal // Prompt: Forbidden affair

Ever since he's been deposed, Elias has had his fair share of visitors; being the former head of a kingdom affords you many amenities, including being able to have the finest food and clothes and furniture one can wish for in the tower they're kept in, and so he doesn't lack anything to entertain his angry or wary guests.

Jon, however, is not like any of them; he shines bright in a corner of Elias' mind, who cannot help, even know, to reach out for him, despite the danger behind them finding themselves in the same room. Truly he should have prepared for the fact Jon would not respect the orders given at the base of the tower, but he had thought that, as reluctant new king, he would have much more to care about than to come here, to the edge of their domain, where the fog curl around the stone.

As it is, when Jon appears, Elias realizes he's been starved until that very moment. God but he is beautiful in his new royal gown, his eyes as dark and dangerous as Elias knew they could become, his posture taller, more confident, his power shimmering all around him, visible only to Elias. His most perfect work, Elias thinks, and it takes all the restrain that usually comes so naturally to him not to get up and breach the distance between them to devour him all.

Not yet. Not. Yet.

"My king." he nods instead, shadow of a smirk on his lips, as is proper for the role he plays in this story. "I assume the hour is grave if you come to me when there is so much to oversee already; or have you come to have my head, perhaps?"

Jon only stares at him for a long moment, which means Elias has to stare back, to be safe. It's a thrill all on his own, although the fact Jon wavers and leans forwards, like he's smelling a delicious meal, is nothing but gorgeous to witness. Still. Business must go on.

"Well?" he insists. "Which is it, Jon?"

"I--" Jon blinks. shakes his head. "I'm not here as king," he says, dragging that last word like it's a curse. "Basira insisted you didn't want me here but I needed -- I wanted --"

"To behold my downfall?" Elias offers.

Jon glares at him. "Stop it. We both know you must have some sort of plan -- the whole fourteen kingdoms know it. And I don't -- I don't care, I'm sure Basira is working it out as we speak, or... Or..." and then he falters, and suddenly, it's incredibly obvious why Jon came at all.

"Oh, Jon," he breathes, too fond despite himself. "I did warn you."

"I thought it would have all died with me," Jon accuses him then. "All the, all the pain, the.. the feelings. I thought it would be over when I wake up. But it hasn't, if anything it's been -- worse."

"The Royal Princes of Forsaken do tend to complicate matters," Elias acknowledges.

Jon stills. "He hasn't -- Martin's not a Prince yet."

"But you already yearn for him as if he was."

"That doesn't mean anything -- I yearn for so much. I --" and Jon laughs, half broken, half bitter. "I've been yearning for you. After everything you've done -- to me, to the kingdom -- I still... I still turn around, in the palace, expecting you. I go to my chambers, at night, after a whole day of being so -- well fed, and so alone, and all I want, all I wish is to speak to you."

Elias feels a shiver run down his spine; this time, he doesn't resist the impulse. He gets up and offer a hand that Jon immediately takes, pressing his fingers too hard in his haste for closeness. It takes but a moment til they're locked in a tight embrace, Jon's nose burying into his shoulder.

"Will you ever cease to surprise me?" Elias wonders out loud.

"WIll you ever let me go?" Jon mutters back.

"I should, for both our sakes," Elias admits. "The only reason I am still alive and you're handling State matters with our neighbours being polite is that they all assume we do not work together, and therefore can be kept in check by one another if needs be."

"I don't bloody care about that damn crown. Have it. What will it change?"

"Nothing, if we stick to the short picture, which I often find lacking. You must be patient a little bit longer, my love."

Jon sighs against him, nails digging into Elias's back like he's trying to nestle into him fully. Elias would let him, he thinks. That is the dangerous hold that Jon has on his heart, these days. He should have been more careful, and he knows it, but now it's too late, and that only means he should put his plans into action sooner rather than later.

"I can't do this alone," Jon murmurs into his neck. "I can't."

"But you never are alone, you foolish prince," Elias reprimands him gently. "Wherever you are, I am with you, watching you, knowing you. There is no corner of my palace you could hide than I would not find you and you know it. Which is exactly why you shouldn't have come here."

Slowly, reluctantly, he begins to push Jon away again. Jon goes, but their fingers stay intertwined.

"Would it kill you to say you've missed me too?" he asks at last, voice quiet and filled with power.

"I've grown unused to vulnerability," Elias answers, letting the compulsion win without a fight. "You understand my heart all the same, don't you, Jon?"

"...Yes. I suppose I do."

"Excellent. Then go, now. Don't come back. When the time come, I'll call for you."

"You're not the King anymore," Jon points out. "And loving you does not mean I trust you either," he adds, like a shameful afterthought.

Elias only smiles at him, bends his head, and kisses the back of his hand for sole last words.

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Hair Trigger

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam, Superfam, YJ98

Summary: A junior at Gotham University, Jason finds it difficult to conceal his worsening mental health from his family and his friend, Jon Lane Kent. Family secrets are revealed and boundaries are pushed as Jason and Laney struggle to navigate through school, their romantic feelings, and their trauma. Could the reintroduction of Laney Kent be more trouble than it's worth, or is it just what Jason needed to confront the demons of his past?

I will also do trigger warnings for chapters and if there is smut I have the chapter(s) tagged so you don't have to worry about nsfw in the fic if you're just here for the story itself.

Chapters: 20/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Jonathan Lane Kent, Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, Lois Lane, Cassandra Cain, Tim Drake, Conner Kent, Natalia Knight, Jonathan Samuel Kent, Cassie Sandsmark, Chris Kent, Bart Allen, Original Character(s)

Relationships: JayLaney, Clois, TimKon

Additional Tags: University AU, No Powers AU, Sharing A Bed, Romance, Angst, TW // Kidnapping , TW // Gun Violence

Chapter Twenty: Disjointed

Laney sat on Jason's bed as Jason picked up their dirty laundry and put it in the hamper. "Jason?" Laney whispered. Jason took the blankets off his bed and checked the plugs to make sure everything was plugged where it was supposed to be. "Jason—."

"Who is Caleb Forrester, and why do I feel like he means something to you?" Jason raised his voice slightly. Laney's shoulders tensed.

"He was my counselor when I went to boarding school... And I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I just wanted to put it all behind me. Jason, he doesn't mean anything to me anymore. I'm terrified of him," Laney's voice cracked. Jason sat across from Laney on the bed. "I told you a lie about the first guy I was emotionally involved with, and I had to change details about it because I didn't know how you would see me—."

"I love you, Laney. Even if we were just friends or married or any of it... I love you in every way, and I wouldn't have judged you, but I'm sorry for being pissed. I just thought that maybe you wanted someone else," Jason whispered as he grabbed Laney's hand.

Laney kissed Jason's knuckles. "Jason, no, I don't want anybody else," Laney mumbled as tears flooded to the surface. "And I don't wanna cry... Caleb and I might've had something, but whatever that was was wrong. I just want it to be over. I want him to stop following me." Jason held Laney's hand over his mouth and kissed his palm.

"Wait, how long's he been following you?" Jason asked. Laney took Jason's hand and tried to cover his face. "Lane, please. Be serious with me."

"Since I was seventeen. Caleb showed up at a party I went to, then in Metropolis, he showed up at my dorm room, and now he's here in Gotham. I don't know," Laney whispered, "Maybe this is my fault for trusting him so much at first."

"It isn't your fault... Hey, look at me. It's not," Jason whispered. Laney looked up at Jason, and they met eyes.

Laney lay back on Jason's bed and took a deep breath. "Jason, I don't know what to do other than put down roots and hope that he will eventually go away," Laney mumbled as he pushed his hair back.

"Lane, I know you don't want to hear this, but I think you need to get a restraining order. I will go with you, and we can go out of town for a little bit. Okay?" Jason asked. Lois knocked on the door, and Jason invited her in.

"Your dad is on speaker right now," Lois whispered.

"Lane, how do you feel?" Clark asked.

"I'm okay... I mean, I'm screwed up because I knew Forrester was following me. I'm sorry," Laney mumbled.

Clark clicked his tongue. "Laney, maybe you should come home—."

"Dad, I can't come home. I came to Gotham because I thought he wouldn't follow me here. If I go home, he'll just follow me there... Jason's right. I have to make this stop. I'm gonna go down to the courthouse in a little while," Laney mumbled.

Lois leaned against Jason's nightstand, still holding the phone. "Lane, take the phone. Jason, can I talk to you?" Lois asked. Jason nodded, and Lois gave Laney her cellphone.

Jason stepped into the living room with her, and Lois plopped down on the couch. "Did you know anything about Laney's counselor?" Lois asked. Jason shook his head.

"Laney told me something about some guy from boarding school, but it wasn't true... I didn't really know anything about the counselor until this morning after breakfast," Jason answered. Lois pinched the bridge of her nose.

"I thought that maybe he said something to you about it... Maybe I should stay longer—."

"No, don't worry... I've got him. I'm gonna take him to the courthouse later on today, and—."

Laney came out of the room and grabbed his keys off of the kitchen counter. "Laney, where are you going?" Lois asked. Laney took a deep breath.

"I have to go get my laptop from my apartment. I forgot I have an assignment due at eleven... I'll be right back," Laney replied as he left the apartment. Jason went back to doing his laundry and cleaned his room before noticing something strange.

"Mrs. K.? Can you come in here for a second?" Jason asked. Lois came to the door and looked at him.

"Jason—."

"His laptop is in the bedroom," Jason pointed out. Lois cursed and slipped on her shoes, and she asked Jason to follow her downstairs. They got in the car and drove straight to Laney's building.

Jason texted Sylvia and motioned for Lois to stay out of sight while waiting for Sylvia to answer the door. Sylvia answered the door in tears, and she embraced Jason.

"Hey, Sylvie, is Lane here? We just had a weird conversation before he left, and I just wanted to come and apologize to him," Jason whispered. Sylvia burst into tears.

"I said that guy was weird, and Laney came here and left with him—."

"Sylvia, slow down," Jason whispered, "So he's not here?"

"No, Laney went with the guy, and he told me not to say anything, but he packed a bag—."

Jason cursed. "Sylvie, stay here, and I'll call you when I see him—."

"Jason, I'm so—." Jason smiled and shook his head.

"It's okay... I'll find him in a minute," Jason whispered as he left the apartment with Lois.

"What happened?" Lois asked as she rushed behind Jason.

"He left with him. Lane went with him. Sylvia said Laney packed a bag and went with him," Jason replied as he unlocked Lois's car door, and Jason's phone rang. Lois answered and put it on speaker.

"Caleb, I get why you're mad. I said a lot of crazy things last night," Laney said over the phone, "We can go to the farm, but I need you to tell me why you're still so mad at me."

"Because you said some really nasty things to me last night. Lane, you know that I adore you. You know that, but it hurts me when you run from me," Mr. Forrester replied.

"But, Caleb, listen to me. What do I have to do to prove it to you? Hm?" Laney asked.

"Come to Hershey with me. To the farm," Mr. Forrester answered.

"Caleb, baby, I said I was gonna go with you. I did. I wanna go to Pennsylvania with you. I want to, but you're scaring me. Can you please put that away?" Laney asked. "No, Caleb, please. We can do whatever you want to do. I just can't be honest with you when I'm scared like this."

"Lane, do you think I'm stupid—?"

"No! But I'm gonna be sick if you don't put the gun away!" Laney screamed. "Like I'm so upset right now because I feel like you want to hurt me, and all I want is to go away with you! Can you please pull over behind this grocery store? I feel like I'm gonna throw up!"

"Lane, okay... I'm gonna put the gun away. Just calm down," Mr. Forrester's voice softened, and the call grew near silent. They heard a smacking noise, and Jason looked at Lois and back at the road. She took the phone off speaker, and Jason wiped a few tears from his eyes.

"Jason, are you okay?" Lois asked as she held the phone to her ear.

Jason chuckled uncomfortably and shook his head. "No, no, I'm not okay. It's not that, though. It's not the kissing. It's just—."

Lois gasped and put the phone back on speaker before yelling for Laney. "Laney! Lane! Answer the phone!" Lois yelled.

"What happened?" Jason asked.

"Mom? Jason?" Laney sobbed before telling them where he was, and he hung up. Jason sped to where Laney was, and he ran into the police and the ambulance.

"Lane! Laney!" Jason screamed as he jumped out of the car, and the police stopped him and Lois from entering the scene. Laney sat in the back of an ambulance wrapped in a blanket with blood on his face and hands, and Jason and Lois ran to him and embraced him. Laney sat there in a daze.

"Cricket, look at me," Lois whispered, "Cricket, it's Mama."

Jason got on his phone and called Clark. "Hello?" Clark's voice answered on speaker, and Laney blinked hard before bursting into tears. "Jonathan?"

"Is he dead?" Laney asked. Lois looked around, and she shook her head.

"Don't worry about that. Did you talk to the police?" Lois asked. Laney nodded.

"What happened?" Clark asked.

"He pulled over, and I shot him," Laney whispered. Lois wandered off, and Jason stood with Laney.

"I'll be there tonight," Clark replied before hanging up. Laney reached for Jason, and Jason embraced him. Jason moved to kiss Laney, and Laney turned his head.

"Don't kiss me. I threw up," Laney mumbled.

"I don't care. I'll gargle," Jason whispered, and Laney let Jason kiss him. "Please don't scare me like this again. You know how scared I had to be to kiss you after you threw up?" Laney let out a little laugh.

Lois came back. "Let's go home... Okay? I talked to the police, and they said it's okay. Let's go home," Lois whispered as she took the blanket off of Laney, and Laney grabbed Jason's hand as they walked to the car. The ride to Laney's apartment was silent.

When they got back to Laney's apartment, Sylvia hugged him. "I thought you'd be hurt," she wept, "Are you okay?"

Laney didn't say anything for a moment as he looked around the apartment. "I need to take a shower and lay down. Sylvie, I'm sorry," Laney whispered before kissing the top of her head and going back to his room.

Jason waited until Laney went to the bathroom before making sure Laney's CPAP was plugged up and pulled the sheets back. He burst into tears. Lois entered the room and gave Jason a hug. "Jason, it's okay. Don't worry," Lois whispered.

"No, but it's not. I've never seen Lane like that," Jason wiped the tears from his eyes. "There's so much that I really don't know about this."

"Jason, Laney isn't guarded because he wants to be. Lane's got so many feelings about everything, and it's easier for him to push through them or lie about them than it is to just stop and feel something...

He loves you. He's just gonna need time to sort through this. This all seems sudden for us, so imagine how it was for him. I'm gonna order us something to eat," Lois whispered. Jason nodded.

"Mrs. K.?" Jason stopped her.

"Yeah?" she asked in a soft tone.

Jason stood there for a while in near-silence before whispering, "Did Laney kill him?"

Lois shook her head. "Almost," Lois whispered, "But I think it's better for Lane's conscience this way." She closed the door behind her on her way out, and Jason sat in a desk chair, waiting for Laney to return.

When Laney came back to the bedroom, he took off his shirt, climbed into bed, and lay there, staring up at the ceiling. Jason opened his mouth to speak, but he didn't know what to say. "I can understand if you're mad about what you had to hear," Laney whispered. Jason rolled the chair around to Laney's bed.

"I'm not mad at you. You did what you had to," Jason whispered, "I just hate I wasn't there for you." Laney turned on his side.

"Jason, I have to tell you something," Laney whispered, "I didn't want him to die... I still don't." Jason nodded.

"That isn't a bad thing... That's just how you feel—."

"How do you feel?" Laney asked.

"I would've put him in the ground," Jason whispered. Laney looked at Jason's unflinching face before turning away. "I know it's not what you wanted to hear, but he could've killed you."

"Jason, can you sit by me?" Laney asked. Jason climbed over Laney on the bed, and Laney rolled onto his stomach and turned to look at Jason, wincing as he settled into the bed.

"Where does it hurt?" Jason asked.

"My back's been hurting ever since we got home," Laney whispered. Jason reached over Laney and went into his drawer.

"You don't have any heat cream for your back," Jason announced.

"I know. I've got a little massage oil to the back right of the drawer," Laney explained, and Jason took the small bottle of massage oil and squeezed a few drops into his hands.

Jason pressed his hands into Laney's back firmly, and Laney took in a breath just loud enough for Jason to hear. "Too much pressure?" Jason asked.

"No, you—. It just startled me," Laney murmured. Jason nodded and continued to apply pressure, loosening the muscles in Laney's back. Silence fell between the two of them, and Jason's mind drifted away as he massaged Laney's lower back. Laney clutched his mattress before letting out a faint crying noise. Jason stopped and snapped back to attention.

"Does it hurt?" Jason asked. He took Laney's shirt and wiped his back off. Laney pressed his face into his pillow and burst into tears. "Lane?"

Laney curled up and grabbed the bottom of Jason's shirt, pulling it to his face as he let out loud gasping sobs. Jason froze as Laney pulled himself up onto Jason's lap and continued to cry. "Lane, I've got you. I promise," Jason reassured him as he pulled Laney up into an embrace. Laney sobbed until he was too tired to cry anymore, and he drifted off to sleep, still holding on to Jason. Jason lay down beside Laney, watching as he slept.

As the sunset on Gotham, Jason lay still, only moving to put his arm over Laney. Jason never realized how painful silence was between them. Someone knocked on the bedroom door, and Jason sat up slowly, careful not to wake Laney from his sleep. "Come in," Jason whispered. Clark cracked the door and slipped through.

"How long has he been asleep?" Clark asked.

"Just before sunset... Maybe four o'clock, five-ish," Jason whispered. Laney made a soft noise before complaining about the cold.

"Hey, Laney... It's dad," Clark whispered. Laney perked up and opened his eyes before throwing himself into his father's arms.

"Dad!" Laney exclaimed. Clark relaxed his shoulders before giving Laney a tight hug and a kiss on top of his head. "What are you doing here?"

Jason and Clark exchanged looks before Clark answered with a gentle, "I wanted to check on you. Remember we talked on the phone?"

Laney shook his head. "No? Not today, I don't think," Laney mumbled.

[brewsterispunkk]

Second Spring

A SanSan work. (Sansa Stark/Sandor Clegane)

Summary: Alayne Stone dies in the Vale, alone.

Centuries later, Sansa Stark has moved home and dropped out of college. Leaving a failed relationship and a half-completed degree behind, she's starting over with only a restraining order and severe PTSD to show for it. Sandor Clegane is her brother's friend and ex-colleague and there's something...familiar about him. She's met him before, she's sure. She's also sure that he hates her. But when Jon is called overseas again, Sandor enters her life in a way she never expected.

or, the one where they get a second chance.

SanSan has been one of my favorite ships since I was introduced to the world of asoiaf. It felt right to put this one out there :) read now on ao3!

[the-witchhunter]

DP x TMA

Just a silly little idea that popped into my head

So imagine season one The Magnus Archives Jon Sims, skeptical as all hell Jon, taking the statement of one crazy conspiracy theorist Wes Weston.

Just Wes giving this statement about his classmate. “He died but no one else noticed. No one else saw!” and Jon is doing his best, taking the statement but not really believing it. Wes getting frustrated and confrontational because he can tell Jon doesn’t believe him, before eventually rushing out in a huff.

The moment Wes leaves, an archivist assistant enters. One DJ ”Going by my first and middle initials” Nightingale, who changed his last name since even in the same circles of the Magnus institute the name Fenton is controversial.

“Was that Wes Weston?”

“You know him?”

“We went to school together. Ended up stalking some guy so bad the poor dude had to get a restraining order. He ended up moving away after all that.” said Danny, talking about himself and just conveniently leaving that fact out

“That seems to check out”

[glassprism]

Which phantoms really cry during the final lair? Michael Crawford said that he did cry every night.

What happened to Eiji Akutagawa in PONR? I mean Japanese people are so restrained, so reserved. I got shocked (in a good way). LOL

Do you know if there any video bootlegs that exist of Ian Jon Bourg in Phantom World Tour? I’ve only seen a couple of short clips from 2019 and would love to get to see a whole boot if one exists!

Why folks say that Cooper Grodin is your husband? Sorry for the question. I'm new here.

To take it in order:

Are you asking for "stage crying" or "real crying"? I'd assume most Phantoms stage cry at some point in the show, since the blocking practically requires that they fall on their knees and start sobbing into the veil. Which Phantoms cross over into "real crying" is much harder to say or to tell from "stage crying", though I'd hope if they are crying for realsies that they do so in an emotionally healthy way, especially since they're expected to come out smiling and cheerful at the curtain call five minutes later.

Eiji Akutagawa is just built different, I guess. But it's worth noting that no culture is a monolith, and even if there are certain traits associated with them, that does not mean every person in that culture is expected to, or should, act in that way.

I've seen some clips that look to be from a full-ish boot (these are the ones usually posted on the Stage Enterpainment Instagram). But the only one I know of that's been released is a blindshot, highlights video of Bourg with Meghan Picerno; however, it's only available through the master, who I'm not even sure is around anymore, and I think can't be listed on any site either, so it's fairly difficult to find.

Because of my constant tendency to recommend to @wheel-of-fish that she stream Cooper Grodin, as well as other luminaries like Uwe Kroger and Thiago Arancam. This eventually led a lot of my friends on Discord to theorize that I am married to Grodin and trying to promote him this way. Which I am, by the way, and we are very happy together. But the real answer as to why I recommend him is because I enjoy inflicting Pain.

I hope that helps, and welcome to the blog as well!

[thevindicativevordan]

You have expresed your opinion on the Superman robots, but what about one robot in particular: Kelex? Little has been donw with him. Do you think he is just a foot note or he could be more?

I actually did talk about Kelex in my Fortress post!

Kelex is Superman’s equivalent to Alfred, but he needs more of a personality. My take on Kelex is that whereas Alfred is Bruce’s prim and proper British butler that grounds Batman, Kelex should be Kal’s snooty and uptight French butler that elevates Superman. Kelex speaks with a “Kryptonopolis” accent which is basically an upper class Parisian accent. He looks down on Earth and humanity, encouraging Kal to take more pride in his Kryptonian side, but does support Kal’s actions as Superman, viewing Kal as being more active in defending the planet whereas Jor was too passive. Rather than restraining him to a single robot body, Kelex should be the AI that runs everything in the Fortress, the “soul” of the fortress so to speak. You could say he is the Fortress of Solitude, the robots and mechanical appendages scattered throughout the Fortress we see, merely being his metaphorical hands with which to interact with the physical world. Kelex and Kara get along wonderfully, Kelex loathes Conner and Kenan for being troublemakers, respects Steel for being similar to Jor-El, and sees Jon as the heir and a chance to correct the misfortune of Kal not knowing much about Krypton until he was an adult. Kelex and Lois frequently are at odds since she wants to know all of the Fortress’ secrets, and Kelex has orders from Kal to keep some information private even from Lois.

Still like this take. Should add that his snootiness is expressed via his belief that humanity is doomed to destroy themselves because obviously they're inferior to Krypton in every way, yet are seemingly set to share Krypton's fate of destroying their planet. Our technology is primitive, our society is backwards (we haven't even progressed past nation-states!), and it has taken the Last Son of Krypton to bail us out multiple times. But hey, if Kal wants to make saving humanity his science project, so be it. Kelex knows better than to try to argue with the famous House El stubbornness and thus supports his master in Superman's endeavors.

Only thing I'd add is that where Alfred tries to reign Batman in, checking Bruce's arrogance and poking holes in his ego via humor, Kelex is Superman's cheerleader. Kelex tells Kal how great Kal is, how he's the heir to the glorious House El, how he shouldn't let those level 3 primitives give him grief when he does something they don't like. Superman obviously finds this a bit disconcerting, but he views Kelex as a sentient being and balks at "reprogramming" him to be less of a flatterer. One thing Kelex and Alfred have in common: their masters may have qualms about lethal force, but they don't. You show up in the Fortress of Solitude uninvited making Kelex deem you a threat, you better hope Superman is around to save your ass because Kelex has no problem vaporizing you, and asking for forgiveness later.

[anysin]

Fic: On a Tender Guard

For anon requester, a Jon/Elias with "putting a blanket on" theme! Set right after S1's last episode, Elias looks after worm-ridden Jon. Hope you enjoy!

On A Tender Guard

"Sorry," Jon says as he opens the door for the two of them, "it's messy."

Elias takes a peek over Jon's shoulder, and isn't surprised to see a perfectly tidy, if just slightly dusty, flat inside. He shakes his head, but refrains from commentary as he follows Jon in, closing the door behind them. He allows himself to look around, taking in every detail.

This is his first time inside Jon's home; as much of a mundane, ordinary moment it is, it's still thrilling. Seeing that Jon is taking his coat off, Elias reaches out for him, trying to take it from him, but Jon steps out of his reach, giving him a sour glance as he shrugs his coat off.

"You really didn't need to come here with me." Jon is trying to be stoic, pretending that every movement doesn't hurt, but even if Elias didn't know, it would be easy to see the distinct, deep discomfort on Jon's face, tugging the corners of his mouth downward. Still, Jon meets his gaze. "As you can see, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. So actually, you can go."

Elias sighs, taking his own coat off.

"Jon, you don't have to put up an act around me." He keeps his movements brisk so Jon will think twice before trying to stop him, hanging his coat and taking his shoes off too. "I saw you there afterward, you know. You made quite a rough sight, and you don't look that much better now. You need help, and since I know you won't ask for it, it's my duty to give it."

Those are all pragmatic, practical reasons for Elias's presence here, and as such they should be acceptable to Jon. But Jon frowns, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You weren't too concerned about us when we were under attack." Jon makes an effort to sound neutral, but the accusation comes through clear. "Are you trying to ease your guilt?"

The answer to that is easy, and therefore the question is not worth answering; the answer to why Elias is here in the first place is less straightforward. Maybe he wants a moment with his Archivist, who has survived his first true ordeal; while they could have managed with less damage to the Institute and without the loss of Sasha, Elias is proud of him. Or maybe he really is here for Jon's well-being, to make sure that Jon won't be further bothered tonight, except in his dreams. But none of that has anything to do with what he needs to say out loud.

"I would have a reason to, wouldn't I?" he asks softly.

As he hoped, Jon is caught off guard.

"Well-" Elias can tell that Jon wants to say 'yes', but bless him, he manages to restrain himself. Instead, Jon says: "I do appreciate your concern, although I think it's unnecessary." He sighs, his tense shoulders falling slack. "But I guess-"

"I can help?" Elias smiles. "Let's get you to bed, then. I think that's the most important thing now."

"Fine." Jon starts to walk, leading the way.

Jon's bedroom is like the rest of his flat; mostly tidy and organized with some fussy details, screaming loneliness. It's in the bedroom when Jon seems to give up on his strong act; once he's close enough on the bed, he just climbs up on it, lowering himself down on it with a deep sigh.

"You will regret not changing later." Still, Elias takes the blanket that has been folded on the back of a chair and walks over to the bed with it, spreading it over Jon.

"Probably," Jon agrees. "I guess I just want to close my eyes for a moment. Just be." Jon closes his eyes for a second, but opens them quickly in order to look at Elias. "You can leave if you want to. I can manage."

"You could, but you don't have to. I'm not in a hurry to anywhere." Elias gives into his own desire; he reaches out and strokes a lock of hair out of Jon's face, grasping his glasses carefully. "You can be at ease now, Jon. I'll be there when you wake up."

Jon scoffs at that, but doesn't stop Elias from pulling his glasses off him. "If you want to," he says, and closes his eyes.

Elias wants to do so many things with him. But indeed, for now, he will just be here.

[a-mag-a-day]

So! I haven't actually listened to 119 before. I didn't quite get up to that point and I'm waiting on a friend to continue listening. Regardless, I care not for spoilers because I live to defy the rules of the narrator. Anyways I just read the transcript.

I have,,, so many feelings about that??? Like Hey! Tim! Buddy! What The Hell! Like, good on you for kicking the crap out of nikola, and now I know the more specific circumstances regarding Daisy getting shoved into a forever box but dude!

anyways I have so many thoughts about Tim and why he held the grudge he did against Jon. Like, it makes sense why he was angry and it's entirely fair that he was angry. If it was any other scenario, I'd be surprised he hadn't gotten a restraining order. Actually I'm a little surprised he didn't do it anyways, seriously Tim.

Anyways Kudos to Tim for tackling a creature of the Stranger, I enjoy the mental image of Jon losing his mind at Nikola and just a blurry Hawaiian t-shirt knocks over the minion holding the device that Can and Will bring the building down

This whole episode for Tim was incredibly well written 😭

[moorheadthanyoucanhandle]

WHAT NOT TO EXPECT WHEN YOU'RE EXPECTING

Opening this weekend:

Monkey Man--The title character, also known variously as "Kid" and "Bobby," wears an ape mask in the ring in the underground fights from which he ekes out a living. He's a man on a mission; he wants to get close enough to the corrupt officials in the Indian city where he lives who caused the death of his mother and the destruction of his neighborhood when he was a child. In flashback, we see the saintly woman telling him stories of Hanuman, the heroic monkey-god from the Ramayana.

Our hero works his way up from floor-scrubber to waiter in the human-trafficking club where these creeps hang out, and from there, lots of blood-splattered mayhem ensues. Grievously wounded, he finds refuge in a religious community of transgendered people who become his allies against the bad guys.

This is the feature directorial debut of Dev Patel, who also wrote the story, co-wrote the script and stars. Patel, the kid from Slumdog Millionaire, has already shown his badass bona fides in 2018's overlooked, believable thriller The Wedding Guest, among other films, and he's a true action star here too, though he never loses a certain sympathetic callowness.

Other memorable cast members include the Jon Lovitz type Pitobash (known to American audiences from Million Dollar Arm) as the comic relief, gorgeous Ashwini Kalsekar as the sinister boss at the club, Vipin Sharma as the serene leader of the trans order, and Sharlto Copley as the shady fight manager. The standout, however, is Sikandar Kher as the brutal but shrewd police chief; his clashes with the Monkey Man are the high points of the film.

Shot in garish, lurid tones by Sharone Meir and slickly edited to propulsive Indian music, Monkey Man is extremely bloody, to be sure, at least by wide-release standards. I'm not sure that, at its bones, it's anything but a standard revenge tale, in the manner of a spaghetti western; Kid/Bobby/Monkey Man is a classic Man With No Name. But as such, it's helped by a gallery of seriously odious villains that help you invest in the hero's vengeance. Whether it's a healthy feeling or not, it's enormously satisfying every time the Monkey Man lands a punch.

The First Omen--Just a couple of years shy of its half-century mark, the original version of The Omen, enormously influential both on the horror genre and on society in general, is still spawning movies. In this prequel, set in Rome in 1971, Margaret (Nell Tiger Free), a young American novice raised in Massachusetts, arrives at a Catholic orphanage and quickly realizes that something is very wrong behind the scenes.

Directed by Arkasha Stevenson, who was also among the screenwriters, this account of the diabolical Damien's nativity has its merits. It starts well, with a setting and a hapless heroine that suggest a tale from Sade. It has a brooding period atmosphere, some nightmarish imagery and sequences, and a cast stocked with veterans like Bill Nighy, Sonia Braga, Charles Dance and the bassoon-voiced Ralph Ineson as an Irish priest investigating the matter.

It's also potentially interesting on a thematic level, in that the plot to bring the Antichrist into the world, it turns out, is reactionary; deliberately concocted to create a concrete Evil which will drive people away from the rebellious, authority-questioning counterculture of the time and back to the Church. Something provocative could have been done with this idea.

So it's by no means an unintelligent piece of moviemaking. But it's a tiresomely unpleasant movie. The story concerns the effort to find a suitable mother for the little devil, which results in many extended scenes of restrained women groaning and whimpering and pleading and gasping, to a degree that felt to me uncomfortably close to torture porn at times.

It's possible that this movie's non-consensual gynecological and obstetric procedures are reflective of a post-Roe sensibility, and thus can claim political validity. But that doesn't make them any more watchable. Perhaps this First Omen should also be the last Omen. 

[cellsshapedlikestars]

Fantastic chapter!

So, Sansa didn't run for the hills and get a restraining order against Jon after he told her the truth and she even believed him. That is great! I mean, it sucks because someone wants to kill her (in the future), but it's great that she believed him and they will be working together.

Did Sansa find out evidence of Baelish trafficking stolen art, guns or drugs? Or all three? I mean, if he offered to let her assist on appraisals, then he knows what those shipments are, right?

It was nice to see them talking about what almost happened in the kitchen at Ned's birthday and that both wanted the kiss then. I'm guessing that the two of them will become romantically involved only towards the end or at the end of the story/investigation, right?

Will we see the reactions of the Starks to Jon and Sansa spending more time together? I'm guessing that they would be very surprised. I'm also curious to see how Rhaegar will react to them spending more time together.

We will see reactions from both families in the future

[cherrywoodmaeg]

Shortcut, Pt. 10

Last chapter had the worst cliffhanger. Good thing I didn't disappear for no reason leaving all three (3) of you readers hanging.

Anyways, I'm thankful that some of you reached out. I have no intention of abandoning this story, and I have a few more chapters ready to be released.

Lots of love!

A long way home

Jon had absolutely no idea where he was. The trees around him grew high and only scarcely allowed the sun to shine through. Upon waking up, he had found himself without his coat, lying on the mossy ground, covered in mud and wet.

A dull headache began to form behind his forehead. Where the hell am I? Where is Niphka?

Jon groaned and ran his hands over his face. He only vaguely remembered the past night and tried to get the impressions it had left into the right order.

We had a chat, I went to sleep, and then –

It dawned on him.

The ship.

His dreaming state had transported him back onto the HMS Triumph, back into that room with Gregson and Doyle, back into the water, without air, without a chance of survival, until…

Niphka.

Jon remembered the panic blinding him as his mind was stuck between sleep and consciousness. He remembered running. He remembered falling. And then, nothing.

“What have I done?”

Jon tried calling for Niphka. He cried her name until his voice grew hoarse and his throat yearned for water. Despite his protesting ankle, Jon staggeringly began to walk. If he wanted to survive, sitting around wouldn’t do him any good.

After travelling with his giant companion, Jon’s own speed seemed agonizingly slow. When the sun began to hide behind clouds, he could only guess how much time passed. Eventually, Jon stumbled across a rocky road meandering through the woods. It was really more of a desire path, but it left him with a dilemma: left or right?

Before he could make his choice though, he heard something.

“Niphka?” he yelled, barely daring to hope.

“Hello?”

Someone had answered, but Jon didn’t recognize the voice. He took a few steps toward where he presumed its source. As the path bent, he was confronted with a new scene.

A chaise lay in the ditch, one of its large wheels broken. A white pony stood nearby peacefully gnawing on a twig. And on top the damaged carriage sat a very angry woman, who, upon seeing him, jumped off and stomped towards him.

“Perfect! You!” She pointed her finger at Jon, who came to a halt in confusion.

“Tell me you saw them!”

Jon had no idea what she was talking about.

“Don’t just stand around, man! You’ll be my witness!”

Despite her robust leather soles, she was a lot smaller than Jon. Nevertheless, her determination and her strong voice made her a force to be reckoned with, as Jon was about to find out. She looked young, barely of age, and wore her honey blonde hair in a braided knot. Rogue strands had fallen out at several places and made her appearance worn. Her orange and yellow clothes were cut like a hunter’s vest and trousers, but the embroidery on it as well as the ornaments on the carriage revealed that she came from money.

“Witness to what?”

She merely groaned.

Jon grew annoyed. “Look, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what happened.”

She flopped herself down next to the intact wheel of her chaise.

“If you didn’t see those idiots shoving me off the street, you’re useless to me.”

Jon ignored her grouse and walked past to stroke the pony.

“What’s his name?”

“That’s Ferdi. And since you’re asking so politely, I’m Ida.”

“Jon” he responded without looking at her. His interest had wandered over to the broken wheel.

“Why are you half-naked?”

Jon sighed. “Long story.”

She shrugged. “Well, you wear whatever you want. Or don’t.” Ida got on her feet and pulled a wooden box out of her chaise’s seat.

“Want to share lunch?” The piece of bread she waved at him seemed like the most delicious thing in the world. Jon sat beside her and dug his teeth into it. It was dry, but he could barely restrain himself from devouring it all at once.

“Eat like a person, man. When’s the last time you’ve had something?”

Her sceptical eyes scanned him up and down.

“Are you a vagabond or something?”

“’M trying t’get home,” he responded between chews.

“And where’s that?”

“M’llershby.”

That only made her suspicion rise.

“On foot?”

Jon swallowed his last bite.

“Do you like to interrogate people for fun?”

“Lots of strange people around.” She wiped her hands on her clothes.

“Well, at least I have this piece of evidence so I can get those idiots a proper prosecution for their offense on traffic law.” She pulled a dirty green jacket from the carriage.

“Hey, that’s my coat!” Jon yelled in surprise.

“You can’t have it back. It’s evidence.”

Jon nearly rolled his eyes.

“Alright, Ida. If I can repair your chaise, will you give me my coat back?”

She looked at him in surprise. and then gave him her hand to shake.

“I’ll tell you what, Jon: If you repair that pile of chaos, I will not only give you your coat back, I will actually pay you.” And she added, “If you don’t mess it up.”

Now, Jon almost had to laugh. “Deal!”

Part 9 < Part 10 > Part 11

[rabbit-heart4]

thinking about disloyal order of water buffalos (fob) as a jmart song

i have some sketches for an animatic of this song, but i don't think i'll ever make it so i figured i'd post about it here so that i don't forget. it would be from jon's POV, mostly

i'm coming apart at the seams

theory of jon needing a scar from every entity

pitching myself for leads in other people's dreams

how after jon eats people's trauma they see them in nightmares

now buzz, buzz, buzz / doc there's a hole where something was

can refer to jon's coma, how the institute felt empty without him

fell out of bed, butterfly bandage, but don't worry / you'll never remember, your head is far too blurry

prentiss attack. duh

put him in the back of a squad car, restrain that man / he needs his head put through a CAT scan

elias getting arrested heart emoji

hey editor, i'm undeniable / hey doctor, i'm certifiable

ok idk about this one

i'm a loose bolt of a complete machine / what a match, i'm half doomed and you're semi sweet

THIS LINE IS SOOOOOOOOOOO THEM. jon is the institute's loose bolt: he starts the eyepocalypse and the entities' loose bolt: by stopping it as jon is simultaneously the protagonist and antagonist and and and and and. the 2nd line: jon is doomed to start the eyepocalypse after doing everything to stop it. martin can be referred to as semi sweet as he is a very kind guy except for that part about how he could totally be a web avatar

so boycott love / detox just to retox

this is jon passing the eyepocalypse onto another world.

i'd promise you anything for another shot at life

"maybe we both die. probably. but maybe not. maybe, maybe everything works out, and we end up somewhere else." "together?" "one way or another. together."

yeah