jr-media-blog

[leiascully]

X-Files OctoberFicFest Day 29: Pink Pilates Princess

y'all what happens in the discord filters out into tumblr in such weird ways @calimanc I hope you're happy

Mulder's hiding something from her. Scully is sure of it. He's taken to leaving at different times when he used to walk her out. Once she waited for him and he slipped into the garage by some other entrance and was gone by the time she made her way to his car.

So she follows him. Naturally.

Her car is so nondescript it might as well have a bumper sticker that says "I'm a Fed". She remembers being so proud when she bought it: something solid that would last. And it is, and it has, and it also looks exactly like the car a person would requisition to tail their errant partner. Which is what she's doing. She's slumped in the driver's seat outside a strip mall in Alexandria, eating a stick of beef jerky, because it's dinner time and she's hungry and instead of doing the sane, normal thing of going home and eating, she's stalking her colleague. Is he her superior? They've never really worked through all that. He's senior to her, technically, but everyone knows she's the responsible one.

Well, not when it comes to "who's responsible for this catastrophe?" The answer to that is usually a solid "Mulder".

This isn't the first time she's followed him. That's the real tragedy of it. He's usually not betraying her, but she's not interested in risking her career again, or her emotional stability. For better or worse, she and Mulder are involved to a degree that she's unable and unwilling to disentangle. Of course, that means she's hiding in her car on a Tuesday night giving herself hypertension, so who's the real loser?

He emerges at last from a store? A salon? She's really not sure. There's a brief glimpse of pink glitter and soft light. He's in a crowd of women, chatting amiably. And he's wearing pink fluffy slippers and pink short shorts and a pink tank top, and carrying something pink rolled up under his arm.

What. The fuck.

He glances over and she ducks down, but he's seen her. He knows her car anyway, even as anonymous as it is. It's like when she can pick out that one particular pigeon by the Hoover Building even though it looks the same as all the others. She turns the key enough to activate the electrical systems so she can roll down the window as Mulder approaches.

"To be fair, you've hidden things from me before," she says before he gets out a single word.

He raises an eyebrow. That's her move, dammit. "And hello to you, Scully."

"You've been avoiding me."

He sighs and tips his chin toward the passenger seat. "May I?"

She disengages the power locks with an audible click and he rounds the hood of her car and opens the passenger door, sliding in. The seat is already adjusted for his height.

"How's your stakeout going?" he asks affably. They both glance down at the Slim Jim's wrapper, a true sign that she's feeling stressed. "Guess I should have brought you an iced tea."

"You've been avoiding me," she accuses.

"Yeah." He sighs. "For some reason, I didn't want you to know I was doing Pilates at the Pink Princess Pilates studio. Imagine that."

"Why?" she asks. "Surely you didn't imagine I thought it was a threat to your masculinity."

He looks at his outfit, and then at her. His silence speaks volumes.

"Mulder, I assure you, if anything my perception of your malehood is enhanced by the very small shorts you're wearing." She thinks over what she said and then blushes. "I mean, they don't leave much to the imagination."

"Pilates was invented by a man, you know," he says.

"Yes, I know." She stares at him. "Between the two of us, I think you're the one who has a problem with the fact that you do Pilates."

"It's good for my core," he says mournfully.

Her mouth quirks. "And the fluffy slippers?"

"I wear the grippy socks," he says. "It's more convenient than shoes. And they made Midge laugh."

"Oh, as long as they made Midge laugh," she says.

"You'd like her," he tells her. "She's like the Skinner of Pilates. Stern. No-nonsense."

"I didn't tell you about Pilates because I felt silly," he says. "Not because I wanted to hide it from you."

"I think you make a beautiful pink princess," she says softly.

"Midge's daughter had breast cancer," Mulder says. "They sold these pink sets and the pink mats as a fundraiser for her treatment. She's okay now, but sometimes we have theme days."

"You've got a whole other Pilates life I never imagined," she says.

"Now you know all my secrets," he says with a crooked smile.

"All of them?" she teases. "Are you sure?"

He holds her gaze a few beats longer than necessary. What she sees in his eyes makes her heart thud. She wants to look away. She won't look away.

"All of them," he promises.

"You know," she says, "that color is actually really lovely on you."

"Is that so?"

It would look even better on my floor, she thinks about saying. "Are you hungry?"

He gestures at himself. "I don't think I'm dressed for dinner, Scully."

"Take out," she says. "Meet me at my place?"

"It's a date," he says, and the look he gives her as he slides out of her car feels like a kiss.

[luxaofhesperides]

(I know it's not one word but...)

Harvest Moon!

The moment Duke heard about Smallville's Harvest Moon Festival, he knew he wanted to go with Danny. They've both been stuck in Gotham for a while and never get to leave as civilians. He's tired of most of their dates being crashed by crime and corruption, having to ditch meals out together to evacuate civilians and fight rogues who don't respect the sanctity of a day off.

Not this time, though!

Duke has the day off and a favor from Tim has him flying the Batplane out to Kansas with Danny in the co-pilot seat, humming along to the upbeat playlist they decided would accompany them on the flight. It does feel strange for the both of them to be in the Batplane as civilians instead of Signal and Phantom, but it's a nice change. 

He's sure that Bruce will scold him about using the Batplane for non-mission purposes, but Duke knows how to deal with him. All he has to do is accuse Bruce of not supporting his relationship and being homophobic, to which Bruce will reply that he's also bi, so how can he be homophobic? And then Duke and anyone else who's around will yell that Bruce is dodging the question and the man will get so tired he'll give up and leave. It's worked before, it'll work again.

"Why'd you wanna go to the festival, anyways?" Danny asks, breaking the comfortable silence that's settled between them.

Duke shrugs. "It sounded fun. And it's far from Gotham, so we won't have to worry about a rogue crashing our date again."

"Don't jinx us," Danny warns with a teasing grin, "Watch an alien warship come down just to prove you wrong."

"Don't put that out into the world! Today's our day off. If an alien warship does come down, the Supers can deal with it. I am going to have a fun night out with you and I'm not letting anything get in our way."

"How romantic," Danny say wryly, "Protecting our date. The fact that it's even gotten this bad is honestly ridiculous."

"I'm starting to think Gotham doesn't want us to date."

"Gotham can think whatever it wants. It's not going to keep me away from you."

"Sap."

"Says you!" Danny reaches over to lightly smack his arm and Duke grins, grabbing his hand to press a kiss against his palm just to watch Danny's face flush red.

They land a few minutes later in a field just behind the Kent's property. Duke makes sure the plane is cloaked, hidden from sight, before he descends with Danny. Kon waits for them, giving them a cheerful wave once they're on the ground.

"Good to see you," he greets, leading them to the Kent house. "We've got quite the spread prepared today!"

Duke blinks. "Oh, we were just going to chill until the festival started. You didn't need to include us in your dinner plans."

"If you think you can stop Ma from feeding you, you got another thing coming. Especially since she likes Danny so much." Kon winks at Danny. "Also, I made a banging sweet potato casserole and I need you two to compliment me on it, so you have to join us."

"Fair enough," Danny says. "Good thing we didn't eat before heading out, huh?"

Duke reaches out and takes Danny's hand in his. This is already looking to be better than all their other dates in Gotham. "Lucky us," he agrees, then tells Kon, "Thanks, man, for setting us up for this."

"No prob! I'm always happy to help out in the name of love. Also the festival is super fun and I need you to convince Tim to come by one of these days. If he's stuck in Gotham working on cases any longer, he's gonna start growing mushrooms outta his head."

"We'll make sure he stops by soon," Duke promises.

They emerge from the corn field to the picnic table behind the Kent house covered in a checkered table cloth and covered in a variety of dishes. The other members of the Kent family and members of Superman's side of the hero business are gathered around as well, chatting with relaxed smiles. Kon leaves them with a friendly slap on their backs and walks over to pick Jon up and toss him over his shoulder.

Sibling bickering fills the air. Danny leans against Duke with a soft smile.

"Thanks," he says quietly, the words just for the two of them. "For everything."

"I should be saying that to you," Duke returns, leaning in to kiss Danny's cheek. "C'mon, let's go enjoy our date night."

Yeah, they're definitely coming back next year. He'll even remember to bring one of his mom's favorite dishes to the Havrest Moon Dinner the Kent's host.

(send me a Halloween/autumn themed word and I'll write you a ghostlights drabble!)

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

Imperfect Love

The three times Joshua sees you look down on yourself, and the one where he finally can’t take it anymore.

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: reader is insecure about their physical appearance

This is part of the Three Times series. This one is inspired by this reaction.

One

It’s Thursday morning and Joshua has the day off. He wakes up with you and while you get ready for work, he prepares some breakfast. You usually leave at 8:15 but he’s still sipping coffee and waiting for you at 8:17 as the food gets cold. It’s unlike you. You’re always so punctual. So he gets up, wandering into your shared bathroom.

You’re huffing, putting on another layer of powder over your chin. “You okay, darling?” He asks gently. 

“No. I’m breaking out badly lately and this makeup isn’t helping any. What time is it?” 

“You’re running a little late,” he admits. You snatch up your phone and hiss at the time. Things get dumped back into your makeup bag. He doesn’t like the way anxiety is bleeding out of you as you rush for a cardigan and your bag. “Hey, breath for a second.” He stops you with hands on your shoulders. “Just send your boss a message and say you’re running a little late. You need to eat something first.” 

You frown at him and he frowns back. “I don’t have time, Joshua. You didn’t make anything yet, did you?” 

“I did,” he sighs. He knows he won’t get anywhere with the whole ‘be late’ thing, so he changes his game plan. “Why don’t I drive you? It will give you a few extra minutes to eat something before you go. It’s supposed to rain anyway.”

You sigh, looking a little relieved. “If you’re sure. I really wish you’d sleep in and rest on your day off though.” 

He brushes it off, pulling your seat out for you and putting a plate in front of you. Within the hour, he drops you off at work, but he doesn’t go straight home. He calls his makeup artist and stops by the store first. 

At 5pm, he picks you up and drives you home. He starts dinner while you go to take a shower. On the bathroom counter there’s a shiny bag with your name on it. Inside is a a couple new cleansers, one that’s gentle and one that’s for acne. That’s not a surprise. You both share things like this and it wouldn’t be the first time he’s gotten something for you only for him to use it too. 

But there’s a palette of cream makeup in the bottom of the bag. The shades look right. You’ve never tried anything like it before. After your shower, you meet Joshua in the kitchen. “Did you stop and get the stuff on the bathroom counter today?” 

He doesn’t look at you as he chops some things. “Yeah. My makeup artist recommended the cream makeup if you have breakouts. Thought you might give it a try since you weren’t happy with your makeup this morning.” 

You frown. “Thank you, Joshua.” 

He gives you a sweet smile, puckering his lips for a kiss. Once he’s gotten what he wants, he says, “Whatever makes you happy, darling. Let me know if the shades aren’t right. Now, how much garlic is too much garlic?”

The next day you get numerous compliments on your new makeup and it makes you smile to yourself at your desk throughout the day. You aren’t even thinking about the huge breakout on your chin anymore. 

Two

You and Joshua regularly go to the gym together. You have a routine. A little bit of cardio and a little bit of weights. Nothing too intense. He doesn’t need it because of the hours of dance practice he puts in already. And you aren’t a fan of the gym in the first place, but you know it’s good for you so you suffer through the workout at least a few times a week. 

He turns off the treadmill next to you and glances at you. This is usually the signal to move on. He raises an eyebrow when you don’t stop jogging. “Twenty minutes are up, darling.”

“I think I’m going to just do cardio today. No weights.” Your breath comes out in short bursts from exertion.

“Oh,” he says. He’s a little disappointed. He likes working out with you and spotting you. And he doesn’t need to do anymore cardio today. “Any reason in particular?”

“I put on a few pounds.” You say it so simply, so casually, but it makes him frown. “Don’t worry, I’ll stop when you’re ready to go home.”

He knows it’s no use arguing. That doesn’t stop him from rushing through his reps and even skipping a few exercises altogether. He doesn’t want you to over-exert yourself if he takes too long. You look a little weak as you two leave the gym. After a warm shower for both of you, Joshua sits next to you on the couch, pulling your legs up into his lap, kneading the muscles lightly. You wince and sigh ever now and then and he can’t help but say something. “Darling, you know you don’t have to put yourself through that in the gym. I love you and your body the way you are.” 

You frown up at him. “It’s just a few pounds.”

He frowns back, a sinking feeling settling in his stomach. “Darling, think about what I do for work. I know it’s never just a few pounds, because it will never feel like enough. Promise me you’ll be gentle with yourself, okay?”

You nod, but he’s not convinced that you mean it. The next day he insists that you both skip the gym and go for a walk instead. 

Three

Joshua is out shopping with you because you’ll be attending an event with him and need an outfit. He’s sitting on one of the benches in the private dressing room. You’ve been in there for a while and he has yet to see anything you took into the room with you. “Are you okay in there?” 

“Yeah.” It’s not convincing and he stands up coming to the door, knocking lightly. 

“Come on, darling. Show me what you’ve got so far,” he says gently.  He hears a huff and the door swings open. He thinks you look stunning but you’re frowning at him. 

“Joshua, none of these are really my style.”

His eyes drift up and down before landing on your little pout. “Y/N, you look incredible in this. What don’t you like about it?” 

You turn to the mirror in the dressing room, turning this way and then that way. Your hand lands on your stomach. He feels so, so sad when he watches you suck in your stomach a bit. “It’s just a little too tight,” you finally say. 

He steps into the dressing room, arms wrapping around your waist, placing a kiss on your bare shoulder. “Darling, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, you know that. But you do look beautiful in this.”

You’re still frowning, looking at the other dresses hanging on the hook by the door. They’re all equally tight and he knows none of them will make you comfortable. With some finality, he kisses you one more time before taking all of the hangers from the hook. “Stay here. I’ll ask the consultant for some other styles.” 

Half an hour later, he smiles at you as you spin in a different dress. It’s got ruching and a small bow around the waist, disguising and distracting from the part that had you so upset earlier. “What do you think?” He asks hopefully. 

You’re doing the same tests and angles as earlier and he lets you. He can tell you’re a little relieved by what you see and he’s relieved to see that the little pinch between your eyebrows isn’t so prominent. “I think this one will work. What do you think?” 

“You could wear a trash bag and you’d be beautiful. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

While waiting for the consultant to ring up the dress, you press a kiss to his cheek and say thank you. He knows what you mean - it’s not about paying for the dress, though that’s surely part of it, but rather the patience he had for your selection process. Still, he simply says, “Of course.” 

Four

You’ve been quiet all night at said event. At first he chalks it up to your shyness. You aren’t in the industry and the cameras and media make you anxious. He lets you ride it out, holding your hand or wrapping his arm around you every opportunity he has. You know the members that are present and it seems to ease you a bit too. 

In the car on the way home, he starts to chalk it up to you being tired. It’s been a long week for you and these events would zap all of the energy out of anyone, but particularly if you aren’t used to it. Inside the house, he helps you out of your heels and dress, and into some pajamas. You both have a routine after things like this. He sits you on the bathroom counter and stands between your legs. It’s his turn first to take off his makeup. You gently cleanse his face and then it’s your turn. 

He knows something’s up for sure when you don’t crack a smile at the silly headband he puts on you. Once your face is clean, he kisses your nose and peers down at you when your lips barely turn up at the gesture. “What’s wrong, darling?”

“Do you wish I looked like them?”

His eyebrows furrow. “Like who?”

You twist the string of his hoodie to avoid looking at him. “Like the idols you work with.” He’s silent, gritting his teeth a bit. “They’re all so pretty and polished. I’m nothing like that.”

He scoffs. “That’s it. You have to stop talking about my girlfriend like that.” You glance up at him in surprise. He’s always so gentle with you, but frustration bleeds into his tone. “You’ve been talking so poorly about yourself lately. Tell me everything that’s bothering you so I can either help you fix it or put your mind at ease.” 

“What’s there to fix, Joshua? Nothing would ever make me look like that.”

“Exactly. I want you to look like you.” He gives you a kiss, like he’s trying to pour all of his affection for you into it. “Be nice to my girlfriend, please. I love her too much to hear things like that, okay?” 

You feel a little bit of emotion bubble up and you lean into his chest. “I love you too.” You mean it. You know he’d do anything to help you and maybe you should start asking.

[luminescentturtle]

thinking abt will byers…

[theloveinc]

plagued by thoughts of bakugo losing his mind if pregnancy makes you food averse for w/e reason

[imwritesometimes]

sometimes you just have to make your favorite goblin meal (any easy, cheap food. mine is stroganoff hamburger helper. potatoes if they have it, pasta is fine if they don't) and make up a 5 minute long song called 'everybody can kiss my ass' while you cook it

[cator99]

I always get detained at da border because PROFUNC never ended but basically I'm like if a targeted individual didn't even care

[josecariohca]

.

[carcarrot]

OH MY GOD A YEAR AGO TODAY .

[amyriadfthings]

.

[torchickentacos]

[skrunksthatwunk]

unfortunately i have found myself mildly captivated by a fancy caffeinated drink. this is bad bc I've avoided coffee all this time and now im being defeated. by $6 cold brew shake orz

[cuz-reasons]

What if I exploded? What then?

[l0ganberry]

I'm Fucked

[nerdyfangirlingbooks]

Every now and then I remember the times I would mention to my flatmate that I was thinking of buying myself something reasonably expensive (that I had been eyeing up for months and had budgeted for) and she'd tell me that I shouldn't spend that much money on something I didn't need and it would be stupid etc etc while she regularly impulse bought things that cost at least as much and she would use once (while complaining that she was under a lot of financial stress and couldn't afford <$3/week for 2 months for a rental washing machine when ours broke). She is... perhaps not my first call for financial advice

[josecariohca]

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