#good news is that I might have figured out at least part of the problem well the part as to why it’s been worse recently

[arionawrites]

1. it’s my 24th birthday today, so my goal of being published by the time i’m 25 is now a one year looming monster, but i never specified what kind of published and am currently looking in various literary magazines that are recommended for writers who have yet to be published, so i’m surprisingly confident that i can make it work? and tbh even if whatever i write isn’t officially published before my 25th birthday, if i have someone in the process of being published then i’ll be happy!! no matter what though, i’m gonna try to be proud of myself for at least giving it my best shot!!

2. i honestly love that my birthday is on the ides of march because the ides of march meme shitposting is only a thing on tumblr but it also being my birthday makes it easier to like. be excited about the ides of march outside of tumblr. like even in person i can be like “it’s my birthday! i’m an ides of march babe (:” and if someone is like oh what’s that? or if they say something along the lines of oh like julius caesar? i can be like yep!! and even if it’s a small thing outside of tumblr it brings me immense enjoyment and amusement being able to bring it up off of tumblr

3. transportation situation has been very rough since june 2023 when i totalled my car, my gap insurance are being assholes and i ended up putting my foot down on the phone with them yesterday which i’m pretty proud of because i am NOT a confrontational person (something i’ve been working on this past year, so seeing some improvement with my ability to hold my ground and not be a pushover yesterday was very cool!!) i was told i’d get a response from them by friday next week no matter what, and if i don’t then friday of next week i will continue to wreak havoc upon them. but my moms car which i’ve been using since my accident broke down yesterday, hopefully it’s fixable but my parents were saying it might be done for, so trying to think of how i’m gonna get to work next week is kind of stressing me out lmao, but for now i’m just gonna focus on enjoying my birthday the best i can because i don’t want to start off being 24 with an overwhelming anxiety for something that won’t be a potential issue until monday. plus i already messaged my boss today to let her know that i’m going to do everything i can to make it work out but just so she’s in the loop and knows of the potential of me not being able to make my morning shifts (one of my coworkers said she’s more than happy to give me a ride for our afternoon shifts which does help relieve some of the stress!) and i told her i’d let her know for sure sunday so that if necessary she can have time to figure out someone to fill in for me in the mornings!

overall: life is weird and i ended being 23 yesterday with a shitty situation but a positive outlook and i am going to enjoy my first day of being 24 no matter what because honestly i fucking earned it. happy friday everyone, i hope it’s a good day for you and me both!

[brutal-out-here]

I got good news and bad news (maybe) about me forgetting how to be a person yesterday

[savanir]

DP x DC prompt [3]

during one of the final psych evals at Arkham right before he gets to be released, the whole thing wrapped up so tidy, just a little relapse which involved a robbery. Getting sent back to Arkham, but he got to stay at the asylum so long that he no longer has to serve a prison sentence, score!

But during that eval his overseeing psychiatrist recommended him to have a change of scenery, some fresh non polluted air.

Riddler was rather convinced the guy was making this recommendation to everyone in Arkham in their own weird way to convince them to just leave Gotham and become someone else's problem. should he notify Batman about it somehow? nah, it’ll be more interesting to see how this is gonna turn out in the long run.

But can he leave the state? Can he even leave the city? he never really bothered to look into it, at least not legally, up until now if he felt he needed to leave for one of his plans he just did it.

Turns out he can, it’s a whole hassle and a half though, first a judge and then a probation officer and he’s pretty sure both were like “what the hell is this psychiatrist guy thinking!?” but at the same time, shrink probably knows what he’s doing (WRONG) so he’s allowed to go visit out of state family or whatever.

he had to wear this nice ankle monitor though, Wayne Enterprises™ tech, not overly bulky but still very present. real fancy, and a fun extra challenge heh.

now as for a good reason to leave New Jersey he’s going to need distant relatives, and he finds some, great grandpa walker also has a son, who had a son who had a daughter Madeline, who married some guy Jack Fenton, and she lives somewhere out in the boonies Illinois. great he’ll visit her.

far enough away in all sense of the word that there is no way she knows anything about him. it would be best to call her first though, be polite about it.

“hello, you have reached Fenton works, this is Maddie speaking” 

“Riddle me this-” ah whoops, habit, oh whatever, “we don’t share parents, but certainly a part of your life, from laughter to strife. Who am I?”

there is a pause …  he’s going to be a bit disappointed if she hangs up if he’s honest.

“cousins~” comes the cheery reply.

“correct! the name is Edward Nygma, we are distantly related you and I and well-”

“oh you simply must come visit!” 

well this was rather easy, perhaps a little too easy, but she lives in the midwest so maybe just going with whatever some guy says over the phone is normal there? stranger danger not really a thing in a small town where everyone knows everyone?

things start to make a little more sense once he gets there and he’s starting to think some things might run in the family. like a preference for the colour green and weird hyperfixations and genius bordering on insanity. Though that remains to be seen, Jack does not seem like a very bright light after his very enthusiastic welcome.

their kids however are observant and sharp. young Jasmine is wasting no time trying to psychoanalyze him. and the boy, Danny, he had not really meant to and he swears he’s sticking with calling the kid Danny so he wouldn’t seem overly familiar, but he might have called him little bird a couple times now.

but that’s all whatever, he’s playing nice here. and he doesn’t even have to worry about his eccentricities tripping him up because this place is insane.

There actually is a local teen vigilante active but he seems about as loved as he’s disliked. and the ghost boy’s enemies are basically all his own kind, which another crazy thing to now know about. ghost. they are real actually, how is Gotham not completely overrun? and how do they even work? and where do they keep coming from?

Edward might be getting a little sidetracked here. He had fully intended to sneakily get his next big game plan underway all the way out here, ankle monitor be damned. but he hasn’t made any progress at all.

Instead he’s been listening to Madeline and Jack to maybe figure out what the deal is with these ectoplasmic entities, he has to know, at this point he might go crazier if he doesn’t. 

He’s making Jasmine promise him not to get her doctorate in Gotham, he’s going back and forth with space riddles with Danny.

so yeah the whole thing kinda just became a vacation, maybe the psychiatrist had the right idea after all? hmm nah, probably not. but this is fun. He’s thinking about recommending this place to some of the others.

It's different enough to get the vacation feel, but enough crazy shit happens to make it all feel like home.

it is not until Maddie wants to talk with him about potentially switching the position of godfather of Danny to him rather than some weird rich friend of theirs that Edward realizes he might have lost the plot somewhere

Apparently the little bird basically begged them with a powerpoint presentation on how he likes Edward so much more than that Vladimir guy. 

And honestly, the fellow sounds like a Dracula Lutho so even if it’s kinda sad Edward can understand why he’d be considered a better option. Even if the guy has more money and a huge company that makes him said money. And it’s not like the Fentons know about his Riddler activities.

Thinking it over, Edward does think that Danny would like Gotham and Wayne has that space program thing right? The kid is definitely smart enough for that (Nygma certified), and yeah Edward does quite like their space themed back and forth. So, fuck it, why not, what is the worst that could happen?

He doubts Maddie and Jack are gonna kick it any time soon anyway out here in the boonies, it’s just a title thing, a stamp of approval or something.

he should have known he was going to eat those words later… he had this whole beautifully elaborate trap set up for the whole Batclan, and he was just getting to the good part when his phone went off.

Had to put the whole thing on pause cause that particular contact wasn’t gonna get ignored. He did promise to be available.

If the whole thing he had planned now went tits up he could at the very least laugh later at the reactions of the bats as he told them to “hold up one second, I have to take this.” while they were all in various perilous positions. 

Sadly he did have to go, he had a very distressed godson to pick up.

[infamous-if]

✮ CH. 2 PART I ✮ 92k (+86k) -> 178k ✮

PLAY CHAPTER 2: PART I

It's here! First, sorry for the long wait. Chapter 2 has proven to be a behemoth, and I'd gotten sick this past week, my computer broke, my documents went kaput and I had to do some Frankensteining for the last few pages of this part. I'm not too worried, as Part II update can help smooth out all the kinks. I will definitely be looking for beta testers once chapter 2 is complete ha

Anywho! Enough about my problems. This demo update adds 86k words (86, 818 to be exact) and is the first part of a two part chapter. Which means the narrative in this chapter is not complete, but I kind of closed it off at a pretty satisfying place. As with every Infamous chapter, this is very character driven. So have fun!

What to expect in Chapter Two PART I:

get on the bus & deal with the consequences of your actions lol

arrive to your first tour stop and do your first gig...which might get messy (both literally and figuratively)

hang with a familiar father and daughter duo

have some heart to hearts/ some cheeky little POV passages

meet more BOTB crew and learn exactly what's in store for you this season

get roped in some ValenReign mess !

Maintenance:

this chapter has a lot of flavor text, or at least, more than the demo did, so if there are any errors or if there are lines that don't correspond with your choices, please let me know so i can fix that!

you will no longer be forced to write your own lyrics and the update will offer you pre-written lyrics by yours truly. im not t swift so i would advise you not to expect professional level songwriting, but they work well enough lolol

lyrics page is up as well as stats, but i don't really like the system i used to balance it, mostly because new...stat things will be added as the story goes on, so that's still getting reworked. still, good enough for now, as there are some personality stat checks!

Prologue and Chapter 1 errors/typos/grammatical bits fixed. (Wouldn't be surprised if I missed some though...) + variables updated.

Scenes not showing up fixed. hopefully, that huge error in which it throws you back to the fight after returning to the house is fixed (It was a bit wonky for me, hopefully it works for everyone else)

Stat and relationship pages updated ( + lyric page to look back at all your lyrics).

Can choose to be asexual and any sexual scenes will be skipped or replaced with romantic scenes. Flavor text in which MC displays any sort of sexual desire will be skipped. (This option comes up during Dakota's party scene. If not, it will show up when it presents itself again.) (Nothing sexual has come up yet, but if there are any scenes or even lines/ internal thoughts that should be skipped or changed for Asexual MCs, please let me know!)

If there are errors or anything, im always open. I've play tested but you girl is always prone to errors. As always, thank you for your love and enthusiasm! It makes me really happy and motivates me to keep writing ! <3

(Also, if you're thinking "omg amy how did you go from 65k to 86k?!" i don't want to talk about it /j)

See you on tour!

[diejager]

Can i make a request?

i thought of this yesterday what about y/n or the reader has been in 141 for 2 years now and one day 141 gets a new member konig but y\n or the reader is 26 and konig is 19 i feel like this has to be done😍😍

also konig: shy,sweet,tall,big,puppy like for the reader

reader: small,short,sassy,mommy🤭🤭

PLEASEEEE!!!!!

Young Cw: major canon divergence, bullying, intimidation, beating, protective reader, tell me if I missed any.

He hated attention, having people stare at him because he was tall —unnaturally so, towering over everyone despite his young age and timid and anti-social demeanour. He was grateful, really, after Laswell called in some favours to have him transferred from his platoon to a British Task Force as a trainee, someone on probation while he trained and learned how to integrate with the team. He worked well with them, the tall and muscular battering ram that opened up a path and shocked the enemy, working flawlessly beside to team, and yet, he couldn’t work up the energy or want to socialise with them, to open himself up and let them see the raw and softer part of his mind.

That, however, was the least of his problems, they were cordial - nice - with him, Soap and Gaz even went out of their way to include him in their banter, throwing jokes and good-minded laughs, Price acted as the protective figure of his team and extended it to him, Ghost - ever silent and glaring - didn’t mind looming over others and growling orders when someone overwhelmed him, and you were no stranger to threats and blackmail to get someone off his back. His problem, the biggest one, were the envious glares and insulting hisses older soldiers threw at him in hushed tones and occasionally glances when he found himself alone, either training or walking around.

Even in a place where he could let out all his aggression and pent up frustration, he was still victim to bullying, verbal rather than physical, no one would dare lay a hand on him when he was the youngest of the Task Force and under their protective eye. Despite the shielding from brutality, other men still found time and places to openly beat him down with demeaning and aggressive words, belittling his exploits, his awards and all his hard work to escape the hell of his little village (his Mutter was the only exception, he willingly went back on Holidays to see her).

“Look at that giant freak. Reckon he’d break if we put too much weight on him.”

“Bastard’s only here because he’s tall, that’s all he’s good at.”

“Aye, makes sense, never liked him. He might be a nepo baby, pop’s probably a powerful man.”

His Vater was a piece of shit that left him long before he was born, leaving his Mutter to fend for herself and rot away to feed and provide for him until he joined the army to care for her.

He didn’t want to give them more fuel, to retaliate meant more bullying, he learned that the hard way as a child. All König could do was take and take until they got bored, walking away from him to busy themselves with something else. That didn’t mean he didn’t get mad, frustrated or insulted, his hands curling into fists to hold itself back from pummelling them, they were his superiors, he’d be discharged or thrown out for hitting his superiors, especially since he was a foreigner and still new.

“Fuckin’ bastard is glaring.”

He was unknowingly glaring at them, he couldn’t help it, then he turned away, his gaze wandering to the floor before they’d escalate it. He heard one of them spit something out before he stomped towards König, shoulders and chest pushed out to seem bigger than they actually were in an attempt to intimidate him. Standing before him, he felt someone raise their fist, ready to strike him for simply glaring at them after months of being subjected to their intimidation. He was ready to stop them if needed, not a pushover or someone who’d take a beating quietly, eyes cued on the raised arm of an older man, but then he fell, moaning loudly as he fell to his knees.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing, huh?!” You appeared behind him, yelling out at the man you just kicked.

They were as surprised to see you, their faces draining of colour as the others scrambled to come up with an excuse. You snuck up on him as much as you did on them, using his height and size to your advantage to land your blow. You moved to stand before him, a shield to a man as tall as he was, protecting him with a vicious glare and damning words, and somehow, he found himself gripping onto the back of your jacket, your name printed on the back and the Task Force’s insignia on your sleeve.

“He was disrespecting us, Lieutenant!”

You didn’t hold back your disbelief, scoffing so loudly that other people had turned their attention to your group.

“Disrespecting? Do you take me for an idiot, Corporal? I’m no blind,” your words were silencing, sending them panicking for another reason to excuse their actions, something disbelieving or idiotic, “This isn’t the first time I’ve written you up to HR, Corporal Matt, Davis, Brown. You’ve done this many times with other operators, especially to König.”

“That’s because-”

“Save your fucking excuses and fuck off!” You nodded away, watching them scramble off.

Glee and smugness filled him, a disgusting feeling that he couldn’t help but enjoy, even as you huff and turn to look at him, head craned upwards to meet his eyes with soft adoration. You were always so warm and caring, as if you weren’t made to be the ruthless killer people made you out to be, but he’d seen you kill, the cold and calculated look in your eyes when you were deployed. You patted his arm, a smile gracing your lips as you reassured him that they wouldn’t bother him anymore.

”Time for dinner, yeah?”

He learned the next day that they were transferred to another base, seen packing up their bags with black eyes and bruises littering their bodies. Sparring, he heard from whispers, from one at to another, the word spread and he found his days quiet and anxiety-free.

“Danke, Leutnantin.”

“You know my name, König. I think you’ve earned the right to say it.”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi

[mtchee]

My Chosen Beloved - [Zhongli] GN

blurb:

In ancient Teyvat, you worship your Lord of Geo as much as the next villager. When you hear that you're cursed by something unknown, your fears are only confirmed when you're given to your Archon as a sacrifice to save your village. Only, it turns out you're not quite the sacrifice you thought you were. OH, turns out, you're to be wedded to your Archon. Except, since arriving at his hidden chambers, you've seen neither hide nor hair of him. Only his pet dragon, Morax, lazes about in the mountainscape to accompany you. Welp, new best friend! Even if it is a sassy lizard. What... What do you mean, he is the sassy lizard...

cw: not edited, second-person-pov, kinda chaotic [name], sugestive at the end, arranged (??) marriage trope except he arranged it, Zhongli is a little shit, i think he's slightly OOC im SO sorry, dragonli, young Morax?? but not quite, ancient teyvat au (kind of), swearing, might do a part 2

| masterlist | genshin impact collection |

[4.0k]

"Cursed!?" You cry out in horror, "I'm cursed!?"

"Not cursed, dear one," The sweet old lady hums, swishing around your cup of left over tea leaves, "just marked."

"Oh, oh good," You feign relief, "so I'm a target."

"Oh hush you," The tea reader swats you over the head, "you fret too much. Besides, there's more I've yet to see..."

You grumble to yourself under your breath, rubbing your sore spot with a pout before sitting and waiting for the rest of her verdict. The woman hums lowly, a content smile on her delicate old features as she keeps her eyes trained on the semi-warm yunomi cup in her hands.

"Ooh, would you look at that," She hums happily, "a crescent star--how wonderful. You will have an unusually large fortune happen upon you..." she swishes the cup once more, "and... ah! And these are... indeed! Health and happiness shall befall you! Though beware, a great sacrifice must you omit in your coming days for this to be achieved."

You sigh to yourself quietly, smiling softly with a shake of your head, "Thank you, grandma."

You place a small pouch of coins atop her tattered, velvet cloth table as you move to stand.

"Ah, ah, ah!" She tuts, eyes wide as she stares at your tea leaves, "my child... I see that someone has their eye on you; beware of whom it is that you trust, deary. Not all things are as they seem..."

You feel a shiver crawl up your spine, and you squeak; you feel your soul levitate.

You gain a cold sweat, "T-Thanks, granny..."

"It's no problem, child!" The old lady beams, positively ignorant of your terror, "come back anytime. It's always such a joy to read for you..."

"Aha, yes. I-I'm sure..." You wince, smile strained, "um... goodnight, granny."

"Goodnight, dear one!"

You're quick to leave the quaint tea shop, placid smile immediately dropping into one of panic. Ever since you'd gone up that stupid magical mountain or whatever, you'd felt these odd shivers down your spine, like someone was watching you.

Constantly.

Or, nearly constantly. It usually stopped when you got to your house--at least this stalker had some decency. 

It certainly didn't help that there was an apparent raid being planned on your village, an attack that you'd all been warned about by an anonymous.

It was a curse of sorts, unleashed by an old enemy of your land's beloved Archon, Rex Lapis. The main city of Liyue is only small at this time, and the adepti, each to their own, have additionally been busy with protecting the various other scattered villages around the land.

You were given fourteen days to figure out a solution. 

Now, there's only three left. 

You shudder, once again feeling a pair of eyes glaring into you from archons knows where, and you let out an angsty huff, crossing your arms over yourself. 

"Great," You crinkle your nose, "now I'm even more paranoid." 

"A WHAT!?" 

Ah, what a wonderful start to the morning, with two days left before the presumed attack. 

The whole village gathers with murmurs of concern, pity, and fear.

In seeing no other way to prevent the attack, the town elder had announced a last resort solution, as provided with help from the adepti.

A sacrifice is to be made and sent to the stone mountains where it is told that their Great Lord and his dragon reside. A sacrifice must be made to their Archon in exchange for protection from the oncoming curse.

And with consultation from Adeptis Cloud Retainer and Moon Carver, you were chosen to be the offered one. 

"You want me to be a WHAT!?" Your eyes practically bulge from your head, and a panic rushes through you, thoughts spiralling as your heart tightens painfully in your chest.

Your outburst garnered further chatter from the rest of the town, some shouting their concern for you, others in protest of the decision made--but ultimately, it wasn't up to them.

The adepti themselves had chosen. 

Your ears rang with a high pitch, gaze hazy as you grew dizzy, struggling to breathe.

You couldn't hear what anyone else was saying--and quite frankly, you didn't want to, nor did you care.

A further immense feeling of fright pierced through you, causing your knees to buckle. It was those eyes again. 

'Dear archons,' You thought to yourself fearfully, 'am I going to die?'

The next forty-eight hours went by too fast, consisting of preparation for your departure, where a group of villagers would later escort you to the mountains and present you at its base before returning home.

And where you would be left alone, alongside barrels of fruit and meat offerings, and baskets of their finest silk and gold.

Then, it would be up to their Great Lord to make the decision. 

And so there you had been, fearful and adorned in opaque silks and fine threads, arms and legs decorated with pretty golden jewellery for an extravagent yet elegant appeal.

Your heart stuttered painfully in your chest, breath uncomfortably stuck in your throat as paranoia and terror consume you simultaneously. The feeling of eyes being burnt into your form had never left, and they had never felt so intense until then.

Staring at the mountain base with your back to the open field behind you, you felt your very soul ice over as a dark shadow swallowed you. You hadn't dared to look back, eyes wide with your skin pricked, breath stagnant as your base most instincts went wild; run.

But you felt you were dead before it had even approached.

You don't remember anything from that point on, only recalling a behemoth silhouette drowning yours before everything went silent and dark.

You had fainted.

But freedom! You cry in your mind, finding yourself awake inside a palace worthy bedchamber. You weren't eaten! Yay! CELEBRATE FOOL.

You notice a soft quilt upon you, its fabric smooth to the touch. Your hands tremble ever so slightly, nerves recovering from being shot. You swallow thickly, unsure of what to expect as you observe your surroundings.

The room is heavenly. Much grander than even the nobles in the nearest city, the room is vast and elegant, with artworks and calligraphy engraved into the stone walls. Cor lapis illuminates it all, along with the plentiful golden intricacies.

An elaborate archway to your left is separated from your room by a semi-sheer curtain, and you can hear the ever so soothing tinkling of water. A bathroom.

Placed along that same wall is a beautiful vanity and smaller archway separated similarly to the other. You can spy a more than generous number of hanging fabrics and neat, polished crates--a wardrobe.

The opposite side of the room displays practically half a library. Gorgeous bookshelves line the walls with ornate pillars and decorative foliage, a grand desk situated nearby with an equally as exquisite chair. The floor is covered by a soft carpet, accompanied by various cosy and inhumanely large pillows.

Nevermind, you must have been eaten, because this looks like heaven.

Mouth agape in bewilderment and disbelief, you slowly slip out from beneath the covers, tip toeing along the cool flooring into the middle of the room.

Your eyes graze over everything, and you're tempted to throw yourself indulgently into the giant pile of pillows just begging to be laid on.

Yet you restrain yourself because where the hell are you.

The large door across from you looks promising.

It takes a good hard push from you before it opens, though once it does the doors part for you effortlessly on their own. You pause, peeking out into the hallway skeptically before actually stepping out.

The door shuts quietly by itself one you're out of its way.

Interesting.

The corridor itself is daunting, both in size and extravagence. One side leads to an archway concealed by a thick red curtain, whilst the other reveals an opening into what appears to be a sun room.

Well, that looks promising.

Like everything else, the area is expansive and elegant. Sunlight bathes everything in a soft, golden glow, and water trickles pleasingly from ornate divets in the high stone walls, following a painstakingly carved path down into a rivet in the ground that outlines the floor plan.

Looking up into the high ceiling, your mouth drops in awe at the crystal clear glass encasing. In an octagonal, dome shape, the largest panes showcase stained glass designs, threading rainbow highlights here and there.

Thriving vines decorate the roofs edge, neatly climbing down the walls and curling around the spaced pillars that hold it all together. The plantation has been carefully placed as to not obstuct or corrode the ornate architecture.

In the centre of the room is a mound of silks and pillows with gold trims and intricacies, a large serpentine figure curled atop the delicate fabrics gracefully as it slumbers.

What.

Pause.

A dragon.

A fucking dragon.

Morax, Rex Lapis' dragon.

And you know it's Rex Lapis' dragon because who fucking else would have a dragon.

Your mouth drops in absolute horror at what you've stumbled upon, and you start to backtrack in silent terror when the slumbering creature begins to shuffle.

You internally curse yourself as the thing emits a sleepy grumble that vibrates the floor before locking eyes with you.

It blinks drearily, lazily yawning and smacking its maws before learning towards you with lidded amber eyes and a grounding purr.

You've been frozen in utter fear for the entirety of its slow awakening, and it huffs warm air into your wide eyed face once its levelled with you.

You let out a frightened squeak, blinking rapidly to recover from the assault while the serpentine creature rumbles contently. It looks... entirely unbothered by your presence.

You can't quite tell what it's thinking, its eyes watching you ever so intently, yet with a peculiar fondness that has you puzzled.

"He.. Hello, dragon," Your voice cracks, and you take a hasty bow to make up for it, "uh! Morax. Um, am I... aren't I suppose to be, uh, eaten..?"

Morax blinks at you cluelessly.

"As, uh, in sacrifice?"

The dragon huffs at you again, though this time much more sharply, as though offended. An odd keen gets stuck in its throat as it tilts its head before shaking out its mane.

Then, Morax leans towards you again with a grumbling coo, as though attempting to soothe you before nudging its large muzzle at your chest.

You stumble back from the unexpected contact, but the being only prods at you again until you gently guide its nose away with both hands. It retreats back into the rest of its curled form, watching you expectantly.

You reach a hand to where Morax had been poking, touching the thick cor lapis pendant situated on your chest in the shape of the geo symbol, secured by a deceivingly delicate looking gold chain.

"Oh this?" You look down at it from your awkward angle, "is something wrong with it?"

Morax lets out a curt grumble, not in warning or any form of vexation, but as a sort of prompt. Not quite.

You furrow your brows, "Then... does it mean something?"

Its grumbles again. Closer.

Your mind blanks, and you stare back at the beast that just blinks at you slowly. It makes no more sounds to edge you forwards, nor anymore mortion to aid your thinking. Instead, it watches you patiently, expectantly. Fondly.

"...You wanna... you wanna tell me?"

Your features flatten when the dragon emits an exaggerated yawn, crossing its massive paws and laying its head down upon them.

"Oh, you've got an attitude, you know," You frown at the mythical thing, and it closes its eyes teasingly in cheek.

You look at your pendant again. It had been provided by the Adeptis, and passed onto the village chief for when the chosen had been annouced. Then it was later given to you at the end of all your preparations, and you've been wearing it since.

Funnily enough, your preparations were similar to those of your wedding traditions--the older women fussing over your appearance while the men gathered gold and jewels to toss and offer up in symbolizing a rich, fruitiful future for the beweddeds.

The pendant is a similar heirloom typically passed from the more forthright intended to their beloved, as a way to show both their devotion, and their will to provide and protect.

The heirloom is usually something that represents the family from which it is given, as the receiver takes on their last name.

But your pendant is the geo symbol, your Archon's insignia.

Holy freaking shit you're wearing your Archon's insignia and it's not a vision.

Your stomach drops.

"O-Oh my god!" The pendant drops back into place on your chest, and you stare wide eyed at the serpent that daringly matches your panicked gaze, "I-I'm our Lord's intended!?"

"You're my one true friend Morax. But don't tell anyone I said that, that's kinda sad."

You distractedly scrub the dragon's scales by his neck, having moved on from his claws. You're dressed in thin bathing silks that cling to your figure from the water, parts of the fabric sheer upon your skin. You're not bothered though, it's only you and the dragon in this huge manor.

For the week or so that you've spent here, you've seen neither hide nor hair of your dear Archon. One part of you is curious as to why, seeing as this is his abode, though the other shudders at the prospect of running into him in person. You're still not mentally prepared for that.

You don't know how to talk to a god! Let alone how to your god--and that's not even mentioning the fact that you're technically supposed to be married to him.

Yeah. You've figured it out now.

No, you had not been sentenced to your death. No pain or any form of violence has been inflicted since your arrival, unless you want to count the dragon tormenting you with the fluff of its tail.

Stupid dragon.

Speaking of the damned creature, you've taken solace in its company. Although non-human, the dragon is a sentient being of its own, and though large and very much built for battle, Morax has been nothing but patient and gentle.

Ever so aware of your smaller being, the dragon has been careful with its every motion, bending its languid body elegently and fluidly to accomidate you. Even in a playful mood, Morax takes great care not to jostle you or startle you so.

You've claimed the overgrown reptile as your best friend in claws!

Morax had preened at the proclamation.

"Has our Lord been taking care of you? I haven't seen him once since I've been here. Do you think I've scared him off?" You snicker, wringing out the soaked cloth in the floral water you're seeping in, "ah, yes. As I am everything he should fear in a spouse. A merciless tongue and a non-existent sleep schedule."

In the furthest depths of this absolutely insanely huge manor, palace or whatever, is an opening in what you presume to be the back of the mountain.

Walls opening into a magnificent waterscape with a lazy lake and picturesque waterfalls, vines and flowers and brush decorating the scene with giant trees overshading parts of the water.

Morax snorts at your accusations, nostrils puffing non-aggravated smoke.

You move on to delicately rinsing the dragon's mane in parts, fingers sifting through the long, smooth fur to untangle any knots.

"Is he kind?"

From its once sleep tempted state, the beast perks up, opening its eyes to gaze at you. Sensing Morax's confusion, you give a tender smile while you brush a hand through its mane and over its scales.

"My betrothed, our Lord," The dragon croons softly, leaning its massive head down to rest its chin on your lap as you chuckle bashfully, "only you and the adepti know what he's really like. When he's not attending his duties, I mean."

You swallow thickly, worry glazing your eyes before being swiftly masked by a ginger smile as Moraz nudges you.

"I just... to be wedded to our Lord is just a fantasy. Who could I ever amass to in comparison to our Archon? I... don't think he will be cruel. But," Your eyes flutter to the side unsurely, "I don't want to live a lie."

Your heart pangs in your chest, and you slow in your movements which begin to cease. The water ripples around you at each notion, the air still and serene. Yet, despite the peace, you feel burdened.

No, not burdened.

Your brows crease in thought.

Perhaps dejected.

Although you have yet to meet, you've been provided with an abundance of wealth. It's evident your Lord is the spoiling type.

Your room is just one example, full of things you love and could lose yourself in for hours, alongside a wardrobe full of clothes you could only ever have previously dreamed of.

And you have the entire mountain to explore to entertain yourself--and it's not as though you were trapped.

You've gone flying with Morax twice now, and further explored the wilderness surrounding with the dragon's protective supervision. If you so truly wished, you could leave these hidden chambers to go elsewhere. To be honest though, you don't trust yourself to be able to find your way back.

The food is plentiful. Visiting the kitchens each morning and night, you find a feast is laden. And during the mid-day when you're hungry, or the late hours when you're peckish, the pantries are stocked in abundance.

A warm breeze caresses your shoulders, and the sound of the water trinkling melodically echoes a tranquil tune.

Morax purrs at you, and your smile saddens as you speak a dismal truth, "I will forever worship our Lord, not just for what he has provided me, but for him in all his existence. Though I admit, my heart will carry the dual burden of heartache."

The dragon blinks at you slowly, before reeling back in all its grace with a low croon. Its eyes are lidded, looking down at you in fondness and something else you can't quite place.

You puff a breathy laugh, reaching up a hand to cup the scales on its cheek. Despite the comically drastic size difference, the mystic being leans into your touch with a rumble.

"Thank you, Morax," You murmur, awed, "but I could ask nothing more from our dearest Archon who has given so much already. I only pray that someday he will find the one with whom he can truly return their affections."

A disgruntled huff escapes from the amber dragon's maw, and it shakes its head before leaning down to carefully press its horned head against yours.

A smile traces your lips, sincere gratitude oozing from your being as your eyes slip shut, nuzzling back against the smooth and damp scales of your mythical friend.

Another kind brush of air kisses your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. From behind your eyelids, a bright flash of light is muted, though you pass it off as naught.

Suddenly though, the scales you had cupped fit much better in your palm, a sensation much softer gracing your fingertips. Your brows furrow slightly as you feel the weight of the dragon's physical presence decrease. The water around you ripples greatly, though the atmosphere itself remains undisturbed.

The winds swoop gracefully as always, musical water cascades still singing their dream inducing tinkles while the scent of the surrounding natural flora soothes you.

You hear a gentle rumble, though much softer than the dragon before you. Your eyes gradually open, slinking up to lock onto the ethereal man leant into your loving caress.

Your gaze drifts to his nose, and then his lips, observing his attire that consists of layers of intricate brown and golden silks that float atop the water's surface.

And then you gasp, meeting eternally wise amber orbs that stare into yours knowingly.

Your muscles tense and your stomach drops, and you stumble back, almost tripping in the water.

At your sudden lurch in movement, the devastatingly handsome man fixes his arms around you, a gavelly chuckle sending a flush of heat to the tips of your ears as he pulls you flush against him.

"Y-You! I--" Embarrassment in all its forms overwhelms you while your beloved Lord himself stares down at you with lidded eyes, exuding elegance and unwavering strength just as he stands.

You don't dare look him in the eye, gaze latched shamefully onto the intricate details laced on the garment covering his chest. Your shame only increases once you notice the opening in the fabric that reveals part of his chest.

"M-My Lord..!"

Humiliation causes tears to prick at your eyes painfully.

But the dragon--his dragon, he is the dragon!

Heavens above, how utterly foolish could you be!?

Weeks you have spent confiding and bumbling about with that damned beast had you spilling the deepest depths of your heart and innermost being.

You would have never behaved in such a trecherous manner had you known it was your Lord! How disgusted he must be with you. How offended he must feel for the ignorant things you have speeled!

You clench your eyes shut, almost trembling in his grasp.

"My.. My most sincerest apologies, Lord Rex Lapis. I-I must avow that for each word I have spoken I never did intend-"

"Whatever do you mean, my love?" His voice is warm and low, a pleasant gravel that slinks into your ears like honey.

Rex Lapis--Morax, your very Archon who is one in the same, pulls himself back to admire you with fond eyes. Though his gaze is ever intense, the emotion he expresses is more than palpable.

His touch is tender, careful but full of longing, "Perish such nonsense from your mind. I, apologise, dear one," He leans down hopefully to meet your gaze, "for startling you so. And for withholding my true self for so long."

You flutter your eyes open, swallowing shakily when he smiles at you oh so adoringly.

"To be honest, I was... nervous. Unsure as to how you would perceive me."

"You? Nervous?" You incredulous tone has him breathe out a laugh.

"Indeed, dearest," You flush at the endearment, able to process it past your panic this time, "it is not everyday you are intended to a God. Now though, I see I should have been the one to welcome you first and foremost."

In contrast to his gentle touches and patient tone, a familiar cheeky twinkle sparkles in his eyes, "To think you thought you were a meat offering."

You blink up at him, horridly aghast at the mention of your initial misgrievances.

Forgetting your prior reservations about him as your Lord, no longer heeding your behaviour to such, you recognise that mischevious glint just as on the first day you had arrived.

A sense of relief floods your being, and you gradually untense in his tender grasp.

Though you're still unwilling to let him off unscathed.

"Who's the one who had me snatched up on such short notice?"

A sense of sheepishness has him ducking his head in self awareness, nodding acceptingly and in apology. A pink tint lines his fair cheeks at that.

But then he glances down at your drenched attire, and his flush deepens as a desire much too long forgone has him turning up his cheek a little more than he normally would.

"Well," He clears his throat distractedly, "who wouldn't at such a delightful temptation, hm?"

And then it's your turn to feel flushed.

Although he had left you lonesome in you first few weeks of stay, he more than made up for it in the coming nights.

And in response to your apprehensions and concern in being wedded to a God, he addressed them directly by providing you with an adoring reverence than even celestia would envy.

And he continued to do so, for the many years that would come.

For he had chosen you; his one and true beloved.

[dem-obscure-imagines]

Let It Snow

Pietro Maximoff x Reader

Fandom: MCU

Summary: When the power goes out at the Facility, Pietro makes sure you’re keeping warm.

Note: Takes place in an “Everybody is alive and lives at the Avengers Facility” AU. Wanted to kick out one more Christmas/Winter imagine before getting into the New Year’s stuff.

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 1.5k

Reader Is: Gender Neutral, an Avenger.

To be honest, you didn’t notice it at first, the slight chill in the air. You continued your work, typing away on the loud, typewriter-style keyboard on the fancy, expensive computer Bruce had built for you (with Tony’s money, of course).

And then it got…worse.

Your toes were numb and you were shivering, despite the long sleeves you were wearing.

You slid your feet into some slippers and walked out into the hallway, arms huddled around yourself as you wandered from your room, down the hall to where the thermostat was. You gave the up button a cursory press, waiting for the screen to blink to life and tell you what it was set to, but it didn’t.

Huh. Well, that was something, wasn’t it?

“(Y/N). Hello.” Vision materialized beside you, causing you to jolt in shock. “My apologies, I did not mean to startle you.”

“It’s fine, Vision. Do you know what this is all about?” You asked, shivering and motioning to the busted thermostat.

“It appears the furnace is broken. Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner are attempting repairs now, but it may take quite some time.”

“Oh. Gotcha.” You nodded, “Thanks for the info.”

“Of course. I do recommend you bundle up. It seems your body temperature is steadily decreasing.”

“Will do.” You saluted and pivoted on your heel, just in time to catch a face full of Pietro as he sped down the hall, sliding to a stop.

You ever so gracefully fell on the floor, staring up at him, disgruntled. “Nice one, Sonic.”

He chuckled, offering a hand, but you got up on your own, dusting yourself off. “What is the problem?”

“Furnace is busted.” You explained, patting his arm as you began walking away.

Pietro started walking backwards, keeping pace with you. “Where are you going?”

“To get into something warmer. Might be a while.”

One of his eyebrows quirked up. “Well, you know, I’ve heard skin to skin contact is the fastest way to warm up, if you need some help with that. I do have ‘improved homeostasis,’ as Banner puts it.”

“I’m good, thanks.” You deadpanned, shutting your door in his face. You could feel him lingering there for a moment before running back down the hall to his room, you presumed. You chuckled and rolled your eyes. Pietro was a flirt. Always had been. But things like this never worked out with people like him. Not in your experience, at least.

You changed into a cozy, zip-up onesie, feeling a lot warmer than before, especially with the hood over your head. You got back to your tying for a while. A few hours at least…until the lights went out.

“Great!” You threw your hands up, rolling away from the desk in your dark room.

In a huff, you stood up and walked to your window. It was a blizzard out there, inches and inches of snow on the ground. There was a knock on the door and whirled around to answer it. Part of you expected it to be Pietro standing there, but instead, it was Steve with a flashlight.

“Oh, hey. Is this because of the blizzard?”

“No, Tony says he snipped the wrong wire.” Steve shook his head. “Or something. Might be a while before it gets fixed.”

It was already getting late, and you were planning on going to sleep soon, but now, you weren’t so sure you should if you didn’t want to wake up a popsicle. “Okay, thanks for letting me know.”

You said, turning back to grab your phone and your water bottle to refill it before you figured out exactly what it was you should do in the meantime.

***

About an hour later, Pietro found you on the couch in the living room, shivering and reading a book by the light of a tiny, battery powered reading light. You were bundled up and, due to the lack of windows, you were pretty sure it was the warmest room in the facility. But as the temperature continued to drop, it didn’t seem to matter where you were.

“(Y/N), what are you doing in here?” He said, concern etched deep into his accented words. You met his eyes, wrought with worry and only offered a shaking shrug.

“I don’t want to g-go to sleep until the h-heat comes back on.”

He shook his head, crossing the room slowly for once, taking his time with each step. He sat beside you, not even bundled up beyond a hoodie and some sweatpants. For the first time in your life, you envied his powers. Carefully, giving you every opportunity to shove him off of you, he gently lifted your blanket, guided your book to the coffee table, and crawled on top of you, settling his body atop yours and sandwiching you between himself and the couch. He pulled the blanket back on top of the both of you, adjusting his head into the crook of your neck.

You were stiff at first, but at his warmth, you all but melted, eyes closing in bliss, your arms relaxing around him as you chased that feeling. His warmth. His scent, that sharp, woodsy cologne he was so infatuated with.

“Is this alright?” He asked, voice low and raspy.

You nodded, relaxing further into his hold, letting him warm you up. You pulled him closer, relishing in the feeling of your shivers slowly stopping. “Pietro…”

“I won’t say anything. The others don’t have to know.” He assured you, meeting your eyes before settling down again.

“I’m not too worried about that.” You whispered, suddenly overcome by it all. His proximity, his voice, the way his body felt melded against yours. It was right, what they said. Fitting like puzzle pieces.

“You’re not?” He asked, mischief at the edge of his tone. “Who are you and what have you done with (Y/N)?”

You scoffed. “You know, contrary to popular belief, I don’t dislike you, Pietro.”

“I don’t dislike you either.” He replied with a chuckle. “Kind of the opposite, in fact.”

Your heart picked up a quicker rhythm, cheeks flushing. You were kind of thankful the two of you were cuddled up in the dark. You hoped nightvision wasn’t one of his secret powers, or you were sure you’d never see the end of it.

“Please say something.” He murmured at the silence.

“You…”

“I thought it was obvious.” He muttered, words quick, flat at the edges.

You let another moment pass, choosing your words.

“I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to—”

You touched his face with a cold hand, guiding his chin so you could attempt to look him in the eyes in the silvery rays of light streaming in the window. “I like you, too.”

He grinned, breath catching in his throat. “You mean it?”

“I have for a while.” You confessed. “Since that first training session when you bulldozed me on the track.”

“I did not bulldoze you!”

“I don’t know, I felt pretty bulldozed, laying there, flat on my back, feet knocked out from under me.”

He chuckled. “I was trying to impress you.”

“Mission accomplished.” You laughed at the way frustration crept into his words. “I could never forget about it. My very first week on the team and already, someone was out to get me.”

“Oh my God.” He rolled his eyes, the words sounding unsure on his tongue. He shook his head, gaze softening as he reached up, a careful hand brushing the hair out of your face. “Are you warmer now, drága?”

“Much.” You nodded, brushing the tip of your nose against his. “I do have another idea for warming up, though…”

He smirked. “Such as?”

“Do I have to spell it out for you?”

“Please do.”

You rolled your eyes, and looped an arm around his neck, tugging him down to you and crushing your lips to his. He hummed in agreement, calloused fingers hooking your jaw, keeping you close as his kissed you tenderly, passionately, lips soft and perfect and experienced. He was the perfect distraction from the freezing room around you.

Then, suddenly, there was a loud thrum and the power kicked back on, bathing the room in light. You squinted, the appliances in the kitchen all beeping as they came back to life.

Pietro shielded his eyes with a hand, still hovering over you. You stared up at him for a long, quiet moment, still not entirely sure it had happened until he dipped back down and pressed a long kiss to your cheek, his stubble tickling your skin.

“Now let’s get you to bed, hmm?” He asked, helping you off of the couch as the facility gradually warmed back up. The two of you walked down the hall together and you yawned.

“What were you two doing down there?” Bucky asked, standing in his doorway. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“I was just letting (Y/N) know the heat was back on.” Pietro shrugged. “I am the quickest, you know.”

“Uh-huh. Right.” Bucky nodded, suspicious, but backing away into his room anyway.

You got to your door and stopped in the doorway, turning to look at Pietro. His hand grabbed at your waist, tugging you in for a kiss that you gladly returned. When you parted, you watched him speed down the hall, hoping that when you woke, it wouldn’t all be some sweet, winter dream.

[brooklynisher]

Hey all, you ever hear of Jaunty?

[x]

Do you WANT to learn more about Jaunty?

Well I dug deep, and found some things I never thought I could find. I'm really excited to share what I've found with y'all. This post is sort of a little journey of how I found Jaunty.

There's a few sections to this.

Skip to But where does Jaunty come from? If you just want answers

Is Jaunty even a real character?

Jaunty, from what I originally found, is SUPPOSEDLY a Steam Powered Giraffe character. But where have we seen this character before? Was it the comic? Was it the timeline? Maybe in a song cover? Does the band ever talk about Jaunty?

And to answer all of your questions, no! At least not that I knew of. The only source of Jaunty’s existence is here.

The Steam Powered Giraffe Wiki

So that makes this whole thing pretty complicated right? The wiki has info, and it’s not too inaccurate most of the time, but some of the lesser known/more nuanced information tends to get scuffed.

It really doesn’t help knowing that David has mentioned before that the information on the wiki wasn't that accurate.

What I’m saying is, the only proof we have for the existence of this character is on what might be one of the more unreliable sources of SPG information.

But despite that, this page is special in the fact that SUPPOSEDLY it was uploaded by Steam Powered Giraffe themselves!

[x]

However, there isn’t really much of any information on this user at all. All we know is that they founded this wiki, added a few characters and a bit of information, and then became inactive. Really our biggest reasoning for believing that this was an actual SPG member is the fact that they are the founder and have been around for a very long time.

Okay, suspicions aside, let’s see what I found about this thing.

What the wiki tells us

One, this image was touched by the founder of this wiki twice, it was uploaded in 2011, and in 2014 they protected the page, which means only the administrators can edit the page.

[x]

Both are pretty major years for SPG being the year Upgrade left the band and the year Rabbit transitioned, but there’s not many connections you can make with that.

This user was first active in 2010 and last seen in 2015 [x]

Cool dates to have, but not a lot to work with. It mainly gives us a clear vision of what SPG was looking like at the time of the creation of this page. I can see this thing being used for a special, slightly themed show.

Of course, the information the wiki alone offers is very limited, but we know two things for sure. One, this character is a robot being under the category of robots, and two, these photos were taken by Cineria.

[x]

So, here's the problem, you'd think that by having the name of the photographer, we could get far with that, but unfortunately, it is such a vague name, that there is just no way we could figure out who Cineria actually is. It really doesn't help that they don't seem to be a professional photographer. The only page I could find that connects both the name Cineria and Steam Powered Giraffe is this one.

Useless information

I started searching for stuff by reverse searching it. It wasn't really successful, as I was expecting, but I did find one thing.

A different source.

This source doesn't go anywhere must you know. The ORIGINAL site, florist.buketbunga.com is still up an active serving as an Indonesian site for selling flowers, but this very specific link is broken, and the Wayback Machine doesn't know a thing about it.

The good news is, the link title alone gives us a ton of stuff to work with! Appropriately, the last part of this link translates to "Flower Bouquet Florist Shop Address Nearest 24 Hours Online", which makes sense.

What DOESN'T make sense is everything else coming before it. Specifically the Team Fortress 2 Wiki. This made me believe that someone used these sites to create a scam link, but it's weird because somehow, it's relevant?

Yandex was able to match these images of Jaunty to this site, and what's crazier, Jaunty is in the title of the link! But it's not just Jaunty, it's the Jaunty Explorer.

I did some searching, and discovered that the Jaunty Explorer originates from a TF2 livestream charity event called Tip of the Hats! Donations can earn you medals known as the Jaunty Explorer ($10 Donations), the Jaunty Ranger ($30 Donations), and the Jaunty Mountaineer ($100 Donations). They can come in many different color variations, but here are the main ones.

[x] [x] [x]

There are TWO connections between this and SPG. One, the shared name of Jaunty, and two, hats. Steam Powered Giraffe is pretty big on hats. But, bad news, these are completely unrelated. Main reasoning? The image of Jaunty was posted to the wiki back in 2011, while Tip of the Hats as an event started back in 2013. Can't even take the "SPG was inspired by TF2" route with that.

Okay, but what even IS it?

Now we get into the visual aspect of this!

I tried to see if there was at least any way to identify what this is, but that solely relies on observational skills. There are two images of this thing, but the image with the blue background is much easier to make out.

[x]

There's a lot that's going on with the design of Jaunty. Unfortunately, I'm not smart enough to identify what half of the doodads are. This machine, whether it's an actual machine or just a prop, is definitely a one of a kind as I couldn't find anything like this.

I talked with @boneinator about this, and he was able to read the text: "STAND CLEAR!" on the top of the doors of this machine which lead him to believe that it might be a time machine of sorts.

What we both managed to agree on when it came to the design of this thing however, was that it looks like a cabinet.

Now, like I said, this thing has a one of a kind design, so it's not going to look exactly like one thing or another, but it has similar features to other things such as to this cabinet

[x]

Two longer doors on the upper half, and two smaller doors/drawers on the bottom. Is that actually what it is? I didn't know, but there is a resemblance.

One thing that's REALLY interesting about this machine is the intense amount of steam it lets out.

[x]

So it's definitely a very active machine.

But where does Jaunty come from?

Something I've been wondering is how much of this is actually connected to SPG.

Is it theirs? Is this a part of a bigger thing? Is it just associated with them?

A bigger thing. There is one example of a big SPG show that comes to mind, and it was not just them.

During their 15 Year Anniversary Livestream, the band was asked about their favorite memories. Bunny mentions that one of her favorite memories was at a show called Clockwork Vaudeville. This was one of the band's first time having a massive audience. According to her, this was a time traveling show, and they performed alongside others.

I looked into it and found that the full name of this performance is called Clockwork Vaudeville Circus Cabaret. And there, I found a little advertisement for it as well!

The Kickstarter for this show started in late 2010

I did some more searching and realized there is a bunch of video from this show out there though all these clips are recorded at random intervals. Assuming that the uploader posted these clips close to the date of the actual show, we can see that this show took place in February of 2011!

About one month after this show, this page was added to the wiki.

I checked the clips, and guess what.

[x]

Right there in the corner, there was Jaunty.

But that's not all

Not only have a found a video that contained Jaunty, I found a video that contained Jaunty in action!

[x]

Unbelievably enough, it was a video of the band performing Honeybee alongside a pole dancer. And thanks to the title, we now know that this show took place February 19, 2011

Which all this confirms 100% that Jaunty IS a time machine.

Now with all things considered, Jaunty is not necessarily an "SPG character" as in they didn't create it. It's hard to say if Jaunty is even a character at all at this point! But it does exist in their world and they actively interact with it!

Who cheered? I cracked the code!

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Do What I Cannot

This is based on My Graveyard Song because I was captivated by the idea of Danny’s parents burying him alive. That’s basically the only part I took though. This is about him being confronted with his parents again once freed.

This is unedited so feel free to point out mistakes. Contains graphic description of violence.

-----------

The Justice League’s newest hero has been a wonderful asset, truly! Phantom is a rather powerful hero and even though some of his methods are a little questionable he follows the ‘no killing’ rule more strictly then some of the long-term members. Even if it’s just because he doesn’t want to deal with them as ghosts it still counts. Some of the more magical people have an idea that Phantom is more powerful then he’s letting on, but they don’t push it. After all he’s still just a teenager, they don’t really want to have him dealing with universal threats either.

Honestly even if he weren’t a hero Batman at least would have kept him around for the impressively positive affects he has on Red Hood. Jason had been calmer and more reasonable then he had been since his resurrection since digging up that grave and teaming up with Danny. It was just a little unsettling sometimes honestly, sometimes his eyes would glint with the green of the Lazarus waters and everyone would tense up prepared for an aggressive outburst only for Jason to announce he needed to find Danny and leave. The more suspicious minds found it odd, but they figured it was just because Phantom could calm Jason down and didn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

Really the only problem was that knowing Phantom had alerted them to a potential new source of threat that they really knew very little about. The JLD knew some but not enough and the ways they had to fight ghosts were clunky and unreliable, they needed weapons that would work on ghosts. Not Phantom obviously, though the overly cautious ones privately thought about him too, just in case you know? And there weren’t many people who specialized in such tech, so of course their search lead them to the Drs. Fenton.

The magic users thought their methods were crude and crazy but had to admit they clearly worked so maybe it would be best to invest in at least some of their tech. At least to study and see if it could be improved on. So they were invited for a meeting, and it was decided Phantom would Not be told. Mostly because they didn’t want to stress him out and also because they’d learned these two were ‘shoot first ask questions later’ types who apparently didn’t believe there was such a thing as a good ghost so they might actually try and kill Danny on sight, which would be awkward.

The presentation they gave to the Justice League was predictably unhinged and they knew well enough to take all of it with a grain of salt, especially the part about all ghosts being evil. Danny had already explained it to them, that ghosts were driven by obsessions which meant they behaved differently then humans but the majority only lashed out when something got between them and their singular passion. Some were different, some had malicious passions and some were more complicated. Diana and J’onn both looked like they were trying hard not to pick a fight but they’d all agreed to smile and nod till they got access to the tech.

There was a familiar sudden chill in the room, looking around Batman could tell a few others felt it too, though Flash was typically oblivious.

“Oh dear,” J’onn whispered before Phantom appeared.

“Hey guys what’s up?” He asked, cheerful but slightly accusatory, they should have known better then to think they could keep the meeting from him. Before they could think of anything to say Danny’s eyes caught on the Fentons and narrowed.

“GET DOWN!” Jack yelled pulling out one of those stupid blasters from somewhere.

“What a perfect chance for a demonstration,” Maddie said, sliding on a pair of gantlets.

“You-you don’t recognize me, do you?” Danny asked, and for a moment he looked hurt, then something happened none of them had ever seen before, his eyes turned red. The toxic green they were used to changed to a deep, blood red and his feet touched the ground as he stalked forward. Jack shot, Danny didn’t break stride, a green shield blocked the blast like it was nothing. Maddie tried to lung and was immediately hit in the gut by one of Phantom’s ecto-blasts, knocking her back against the glass.

Batman leapt up and tried to lung and stop Phantom only to hit a wall that rippled with green, a bubble surrounding the ghost and the two hunters, invisible until struck.

Danny grinned, shark like teeth on full display without any mirth, white hair whipping in an unfelt wind, flowing so it almost looked like flames. “I guess I look a lot different then I did when you buried me alive huh? How long did you leave me? Because you ‘couldn’t kill you son’ so you thought it would be more merciful to lock me away till everything human about me rotted.”

“No,” Maddie gasped, recognition suddenly sharp and painful on her features.

“Yes ‘mom’,” Danny snarled bitterly. Jack tried to shoot again but the blaster was knocked out of his hands so quickly no one was sure what hit him before it could fully charge. “YOU MADE ME! AND YOU ABANDONED ME! You’re lucky someone found me, I would have gotten strong enough to break out on my own eventually and if I had I would have destroyed everything.”

“Oh my god, his parents?” Diana nearly whispered. Batman understood how she felt, Danny didn’t like to talk about how he’d ended up buried ‘alive’, that his parents were the ones who had done it… that was horrific. It made sense why he had never been able to speak about it, but Damn that would have been good to know before they had invited Danny’s abusers to give a presentation on weapons that had no doubt been used to hurt him. And now.. what? They couldn’t get to Danny, it seemed like he had gotten to the point that Raven did sometimes when her emotions overwhelmed her, could they get to Danny? Could they stop him from doing something he might regret?

“You are not our son,” Maddie hissed, her breathing still coming in a harsh wheeze from the blow to her stomach. “Danny is dead! He’s gone. You’re just an acto-entity imitating him, and not even well, you’re just a parasite.”

Danny seemed to be losing some control of his form, it was stretching, getting taller, his fingers curling into dangerous claws tipped with the blackness of the star studded void. “Pathetic mortals, you act as if you will never die, but you will join my kingdom. Perhaps it will be punishment enough to become what you hate, perhaps not. Perhaps I will speed up the process so you can’t hurt anyone else,” He snarled his hands beginning to glow with familiar green of his energy blast.

“Danny stop!” Superman said, hitting the burier to try and get through but not even he could break it. Danny didn’t seem to be responding to them though he was hesitating.

Batman was resigning himself to watching Phantom kill his once parents before Jason walked by him. Batman wasn’t usually taken by surprise, but he was shocked, and worried, both because he could see the green glow of pit madness through the eyes of his helmet, which was worrying, and because he walked through the burier keeping the rest of the heroes out like it was nothing.

He walked to Danny, taking his hand, there was a soft sizzle as the gathered green energy burned Jason’s hand without him even seeming to notice. He pulled Danny down to the ground from where he was floating, pulling the young hero into his arms. Danny let himself be pulled into Jason’s arms, the green energy fizzling out as he wrapped his own arms back around Jason’s waist, hiding against his chest. As the anger faded he slumped against Jason’s chest.

Just as the heroes were breathing a sigh of relief and relaxing Maddie went for the dropped gun. But she wasn’t fast enough as Jason drew his own pistol, the one with live ammo, and put a bullet in her head. Diana cried out in shock and Batman froze as blood and brain matter splattered over the watchtower floor and her body slumped. Before anyone could recover Jack followed, another shot executioner style and Batman had to turn away.

The watchtower was completely silent, enough so that he could hear Phantom’s soft sniffles as he cried into Jason’s chest. When Batman looked back Jason had holstered his gun and was just holding Danny Close. The green had faded enough from his eyes that it seemed safe, Batman approached warily and wasn’t surprised to find that the invisible burier was gone now that both the Fenton’s were dead.

“I’m sorry,” Danny said softly as he heard the approach, without emerging from his hiding place in Jason’s arms where he seemed to feel safe. “I wasn’t actually going to kill them, but I guess my want to, my emotions, were strong enough to make Jason respond. I didn’t mean to call you that way.” He looked up at Jason, his eyes green again though red rimmed from tears.

“It’s alright, I would have done it anyway,” Jason growled, holding Danny even tighter. “I’ve killed people for less, they deserved it.”

Batman took a deep breath forcing himself to keep his cool about his son’s constant flouting of his no killing rule, now was not the time to make Phantom feel worse. “Jason why don’t you take him down to one of the sitting rooms so he can calm down.” No doubt Phantom was reliving trauma, and grieving because even if he wanted them dead they had been his parents.

Jason nodded and scooped Danny into his arm who let out an indignant little squawk and insisted he could walk while making no attempt to actually get down. Jason ignored Danny’s performative complaints and kept the young hero’s head hidden against his chest so he wouldn’t have to see the corpses of his parents while Jason carried him out of the room.

Now, how best to deal with the aftermath of… all this. And later on he really would have to ask Danny and Jason what he’d meant by Jason responding to his energy, because it seemed like there might be something more to their relationship then just Danny calming Jason down and that was worrying to say the least.

Part 2: here

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hiiiii! Could you please write a fic where Donna takes reader to a lord’s meeting to help control Angie and Alcina and Karl start hitting on Reader to tease Donna, making Donna gettin really jealous so she ends up trying to state her claim on Reader by getting her pregnant. And if you’d like maybe Donna announcing to the Lord’s & Miranda that reader is pregnant and Karl & Karl teasing her about her jealousy?

Yesss!!!!! Thanks for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the delay and the language mistakes!!! :))))

How to make you hers

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI, slightly dark themes, dark Donna, jealousy...

Word count: 5,980

Summary: Maybe to go to that meeting wasn't a good idea...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

“Where are you?” You asked humming, walking slowly through the living room, looking for the Angie doll, like almost every afternoon.

Definitely, playing hide and seek with a possessed doll was not the strangest thing that had happened to you in the last few months, although it might seem that way.

It was even stranger when the village merchant, the Duke, hired you to be his assistant, arguing that you might have a future in the business world. How ironic, no one could have a future in that cursed village.

It was even stranger when your new job led you to meet the most authority figures, and emerge unscathed in the process. The few villagers who had the privilege of being close enough hadn't had much luck, and that included friends and acquaintances of yours.

And if something even stranger could happen, it was meeting one of those shadowy Lords, Donna Beneviento. She was a dark, sick and lonely woman, who saw your presence as a threat at first and little by little, as a necessity. Her shadowy figure, her hoarse voice, and the puppet she used to express her emotions were a combination of factors that also caught your attention.

But no, none of that was the strangest thing that had happened to you. The strangest, most extraordinary thing that had happened in your life was precisely finding yourself madly in love with the lady in black, almost as much as her, or even more. Those short meetings stopped being short, those talks stopped making no sense. Angie was no longer a speaker, but a complement.

Everything happened so quickly, but in such an intense way, that you soon forgot even to return home after visiting the old estate. There was a moment, the moment when that strange love materialized in the form of discovery, the moment when Donna lifted the black veil from her face so you could admire her beauty and throw her insecurities away, with your first kiss. At that moment you knew that you would no longer return to your old home.

Of course, you never forgot who you were kissing, who you were caressing. She was a Lord, a dangerous and terribly jealous woman. You couldn't blame her for being that way, not after knowing her past, her present, and not after wanting to be part of her future. That toxic possessiveness wasn't a problem for you. You understood her motives, although you had a hard time adjusting at first.

For Lady Beneviento you were a beam of light in the darkness, but also a new concern. Neither her scar nor her body was a reason for fear, for shame, not anymore. At the moment your lips expressed your love there was only one thing she feared, there was only one thing that made fear itself tremble, losing you.

“Come on... Come out of hiding... You've beaten me...” You sighed, tired of looking for the puppet all over the house.

Well, at least Angie had an easier time adjusting to your presence. The puppet had found in you an unbeatable playmate.

A nervous giggle reached your ears and formed an evil smile on your face, making you crouch down in front of one of the tables in the room, checking to see if the puppet was there.

“Ah!” You scream when a cold hand landed on your shoulder, causing you to jump and hit your head on the furniture in a comical way. When you stood up, rubbing the spot where you hit yourself, you realized who had scared you, Donna.

“Are you hurt?” She asked with that soft voice, the voice that betrayed the insane time she spent alone in her doll workshop. You smiled, like every time you saw that tender look, that fragility only you were capable of loving.

“No, I don't think so,” you said, playing it off, verifying that the blow was nothing else than that. “You’ve scared me.”

“I'm sorry,” Donna whispered, lowering her head, which you prevented by raising her chin with two fingers and leaning in to kiss her softly, which made the lady sigh in relief.

“Don't worry,” you whispered into her lips, turning them into a tender smile, accompanying that gesture of affection with a soft grip on her waist. “Are you finished with the dolls?”

The lady nodded, without erasing that splendid smile from her face, feeling comfortable in your embrace, exploring your skin with her hands in a curious way, as if she couldn't quite believe that you were there, that you loved her, that someone could loved her. .

“I have something for you,” she said, moving away from you a bit and handing you what looked like a golden chain with a medallion hanging from it, a small medallion with the symbol of House Beneviento. You took it with a grateful smile and examined it more closely. It was a beautiful necklace.

“Wow... It's so nice...” You whispered, running your fingers over the medallion. Her expression cooled a bit, betraying incipient concern.

“Don’t you like it?” She asked worriedly, to which you nodded profusely, putting that idea out of her head, hoping this time it wouldn't be as complicated as others.

“I love it, Donna. Come on, help me put it on,” you said amused, turning around and brushing your hair away from your neck.

The doll maker sighed again, wrapping her delicate hands around your neck and tying that little necklace where it belonged, slowly turning you around to admire the result.

“It suits you well, (Y/N)” the lady commented, observing you with that necklace on, with the silent symbol that made you hers.

“You suit me well...” You murmured with a seductive purr, drawing the woman a little closer to you, making her laugh nervously, her cheeks blushing.

It could have been one of those moments in which the silence of that sinister mansion was interrupted by gasps, by words of love, by the sounds of your passion, but it seemed that the phone resting on a table had other plans for you. The screeching sound of the device made you jerk away, making a disgusted face.

“Angie!” Donna called, making the puppet, the undisputed champion of hiding, come out of a dark corner of the room and walk comically towards the phone.

“I'm coming, I'm coming...” The doll sang. Donna's gaze was on that phone, although her hand remained in yours.

You sighed in frustration, but your touch calmed her nerves. The telephone was never a good sign at all.

“Beneviento house here, who is calling?” Angie said, grabbing the device and comically putting it on her head. “Oh, Mother Miranda…”

Donna tensed completely, not taking her eyes off her doll. Surely she would be listening to the priestess's words.

“Okay, see you later...” Angie hummed, hanging up the phone abruptly and getting off the table.

“What's wrong, honey?” You asked, seeing your lover's confused and worried expression. She let your hand go lazily.

“Mother Miranda calls us for a meeting,” the lady in black explained, walking away from you. You frowned and sighed, knowing that not even lust could fight against that.

“Meeting, meeting, meeting!” Angie screamed, making you cover your ears. “We can all play hide and seek together!”

“No, Angie, no one is going to play hide-and-seek,” Donna said, with a dry voice, showing how she didn’t wanted to go to that old cathedral and see the rest of her siblings.

“You boring thing!” The doll protested, making the lady turn around abruptly, surprised by this lack of respect from Angie.

“Hey, come on, tell her what she wants to hear and...” You whispered, putting a hand on her shoulder, calming her nerves with the heat of your caresses. “You know the way she is.”

Donna shook her head, chasing after her doll, which seemed to want to make fun of her, something she couldn't stand, something that made her too nervous.

“Come on, stay still,” the lady said frustrated, squeezing her hands tightly on either side of her hips. “Angie, please…”

“No! You're mean, Donna! You don’t want to play with me! You just want to play with her!” The doll screeched, pointing at you. The lady in black growled angrily, walking quickly towards the puppet.

“Maledizione… Angie!” The lady in black cursed, trying to snatch her black veil from Angie, an indispensable accessory when she left the safety of her home. You watched the scene helplessly, unable to do anything.

“I want (Y/N) to come with us!” The puppet ordered, making Donna stop and look at you slowly, studying that possibility.

“No, no way,” she said in a dark whisper, looking at you like blaming you for something.

“Well, I will run and run and I will not give you your veil!” Angie sang, running away from the lady again.

After a ridiculous chase and several well-founded threats from the doll, Donna agreed to her request and the three of you headed towards that horrible place.

You were used to the Lords, you knew them, but you had never seen them all together, together with Mother Miranda.

“Donna, dear, who is our guest?” The priestess asked when the two of you approached the altar, to that bird woman who gave you chills. You had your head bowed in respect, but her golden claws forced you to look into those cold eyes.

“(Y/N), Mother Miranda, this is my... My... My girlfriend,” Donna said, with an almost inaudible whisper, causing a sinister smile to form on the Goddess's face, looking at you curiously.

“Wow... I'm happy for you, dear, please take a seat,” she said, giving you a mysterious look, one that passed through your body. Donna took your hand and guided you to a chair next to hers.

“This place is so creepy...” You murmured, studying that ancient structure, with the lady's hand always in yours. She looked at you and nodded, unable to hide the trembling of her body, her own nerves.

“It won't last long, (Y/N), it's a routine meeting,” Donna explained through that horrible black veil. You nodded reluctantly, holding Angie, who was looking at you curiously.

Some steps that you already knew put you on alert. It was an elegant walk, one from another time, one that belonged to Alcina Dimitrescu, owner of the castle, and one of your first clients. You couldn't deny you showed some interest in her at first, but it went away when you met Donna.

“Well, well, well... What do we have here...” The tall woman said, walking slowly towards you. The sweaty hand that was squeezing yours started to hurt you. Donna was very nervous. “A little bird that has come out of her cage…”

“Lady Dimitrescu,” you murmured respectfully, lowering your head and earning a sinister smile from the lady in white.

“How daring are you, Donna, why do bring this delicious maid into my presence?” Alcina asked in a velvety voice, making the lady in black tense, shaking her head.

“She’s not a maid!” Angie screeched, nervous as her owner, or rather, speaking for her owner, who was breathing hard. You looked at her to calm her down, but she looked away, as if you had done something wrong. Going to that meeting was a bad idea.

“Isn’t she? And what is she? Your companion?” The lady in white asked with a mocking tone making angry even you.

“She's my girlfriend,” the doll said, jumping off your lap, facing that monstrous woman, something that made you smile.

“Oh, your girlfriend... I see...” The lady of the castle murmured, leaning towards you, making Donna stand up, dragging her chair with an unpleasant sound.

“Don't go close to her,” Donna hissed, in her own voice. Alcina looked at her and laughed softly, without stopping her actions, grabbing with one of her fingers the necklace that Donna had given you just an hour ago.

“Nice necklace, little bird...” She whispered, completely ignoring her sister's protests, which intensified by kicking the ground childishly.

“Thank you, my lady.” That was all you could say. Having that vampire so close made you very nervous, you couldn't help it.

“I see my sister appreciates you a lot, right?” She asked you, with that same seductive tone. “But tell me, (Y/N), does my poor little sister know how to appreciate you properly?”

“Basta,” Donna said, with a stronger voice, making the lady in white look at her out of the corner of her eye, but returning her gaze to you immediately.

“Come on, Donna, we're just talking, right?” Alcina said laughing softly, clearly mocking her, something that also made you burn. “I'm not going to eat her... Yet...” She whispered, making you clear your throat.

“She's mine,” the lady in black whispered, threatening again, making you have the most uncomfortable time of your life. Well, until then.

“Yes, yes, yes...” Alcina sighed, standing up again, making a gesture of contempt with her hands. “Maybe one day you would like to come to my castle and…”

“Hey, fat ass, leave the girl alone!” A male voice interrupted this mocking and uncomfortable conversation. You could have calmed down, but quite the opposite. The voice belonged to Karl Heisenberg, one of the Lords, according to Donna, the most dangerous.

“Oh, it's you...” The vampire sighed, listlessly, ignoring the metallic man. “Haven't they told you that you shouldn't interrupt a ladies’ conversation?”

“I didn't know you were a lady,” he replied, mockingly, as always, pushing the large lady aside and leaning comically on the back of your chair, blowing the smoke from his cigar at you in an unpleasant way.

“You stupid vermin...” Dimitrescu protested, to which Karl laughed amused, looking at you over his glasses.

“(Y/N), I'm glad to see you, my friend,” he told you, ignoring the vampire's fury, involuntarily shaking your hand. “It's good to know that Donna took you out for a walk.”

“I'm not a dog,” you protested for that derogatory comment, looking at the lady in black, who seemed calmer due to the presence of her brother.

“Oh, I didn't say such a thing...” He said, amused, shaking his head. “I have to congratulate you on the pieces you brought me last week, they were of amazing quality,” he commented.

You sighed to be able to relax after that huge amount of insinuations from the lady of the castle. But that tranquility would not last long.

“You should congratulate the Duke, I only make the deliveries,” you said, crossing your legs and arms, looking for Angie, who apparently had gone to greet Moreau.

“And also for having an assistant as beautiful as you,” he whispered, leaning into your ear, making you blush, closing your eyes knowing that Donna was nervous again, although she didn't show it as much as before.

“Wow, thanks for the compliment,” you said amused, knowing that at least with him, you could joke. Deep down, you liked him.

Karl nodded with a sinister smile, looking at the lady in black and leaning into your ear again.

“Just a question, just for the two of us… Is Donna as big as they say?” He asked, making you choke and open your eyes at that unpleasant question. Of course, the lady in black heard it, and she rose from her chair again, her knuckles white from the pressure she put on her fists.

“I'm not going to answer that,” you said, always monitoring Donna's posture and her breathing.

“There is no need to do it,” Karl said, leaning more comfortably on your chair. “They say that comparisons are hateful, but perhaps you would like to see it for yourself. I feel so alone in that factory...” He whispered, making your stomach turn.

“Stai zitto, cazzo!” The lady in black screamed, abruptly pushing the Lord, who laughed amused by that reaction. You stood up too, trying to calm the situation, which was already unbearably tense. “Porca puttana! Ti ucciderò!”

“Hey, hey, come on, calm down, little sister, I was just joking,” Karl said, avoiding the pushes of his sister, who was increasingly furious.

“Donna, calm down, nothing's wrong,” you said, grabbing your girlfriend by the waist, preventing her from hitting her brother, who seemed to be having fun at her expense. “Come on, stay still, calm down…”

“What have you done to my Donna, stupid, stupid?!” Angie screamed, joining that strange fight. “Let her go, (Y/N), let her give him what he deserves!”

“Silence!” A voice bounced off the walls. Apparently the priestess had enough, and you couldn't help but thank her. “Have you finished torturing poor Donna?”

“Oh, come on, we were joking,” Heisenberg protested, adjusting his coat while you sat your girlfriend back in her chair.

“You're like children,” Miranda hissed, shaking her head and walking towards you, placing a golden hand on the shoulder of the lady in black. “Are you okay, dear?”

The lady took a while to respond, but she finally nodded, holding your hands tightly while you whispered nice things to calm her down. Miranda looked at you out of the corner of her eye, with a strange smile.

“You're good at it, (Y/N),” she whispered, seeing that your actions had an effect on the brunette. “It seems that I can entrust my little daughter to you without fear.”

“Of course, Mother Miranda,” you said, calming your girlfriend's sobs, which little by little stopped being so intense.

“Good,” the blonde said dryly, moving away from you and spreading her wings to start the meeting and thus end that hell.

The meeting went off without a hitch. Things seemed to have calmed down, but it didn't take you long to realize that it was just an illusion. As if you had gone back several months in the past, Donna was quiet, completely silent, holding your hand, almost dragging you back towards the mansion. Not even Angie dared to say anything.

“Hey, my love...” You said softly, removing the black cloth from her face, revealing a furious, resentful look. “Forget it, okay? They were just joking.”

Your caress on her cheek was brushed away sharply. That harsh expression remained on her face, as if she deeply hated you for something you weren't guilty of.

“Don't touch me,” she hissed, pushing you, leaving you completely stunned.

“Donna...” You sighed, already used to those crises of jealousy, which her cruel brothers made more complicated. “Come on, don't be angry with me, I haven't done anything.”

“Haven’t you?” She asked. “Haven’t you done anything?”

“Of course I haven’t, they were the ones who...” You said with a more serious tone, not willing to apologize for something that was not your fault at all.

“You were delighted,” she interrupted, between clenched teeth, approaching you with a dangerous step.

“Well, who doesn't like to feel desired?” You said amused, thinking that humor was the best option. You were wrong.

“You like it too much, (Y/N)... You enjoy it...” Donna accused you, with that eye shining with tears, red with hatred and her deranged possessiveness.

“I can't enjoy it if it hurts you, Donna, don't you understand?” You defended yourself, putting your hands on her shoulders, preventing her from moving them away again.

“You don't understand that you are mine?” She asked back, making you sigh. No, you didn't like that term, at least outside of the bedroom.

“It's not my fault that your siblings were behaving that way,” you said in a more annoyed tone, with anger beginning to course through your veins.

“You're right...” She sighed, calming down mysteriously quickly, taking your hands and swinging them next to hers, as if she were turning something over in her head.

You, still alert, leaned towards her, kissing her quickly, thinking that a kiss from your lips would be the medicine she needed for her jealousy.

“I love you, Donna... I don't like to say it but... I'm yours, you know it, I know it. Nothing in this world will change my mind. I don't love anyone else, I don't want anyone else. Do you understand, my love?”

“Don't you like to say you're mine?” She asked, offended again by your words. “Then you don't like being so.”

You, sighing cupping her face in your hands, holding her gaze steady, ready to say whatever it took to make her calm down. Yes, you may not have liked the term, but the reality is that you were hers, and you always would be, you wanted to be hers.

“You're not understanding me, darling...” You said softly, brushing a strand of black hair away from her face, making her eye only look at you. “I like being yours, I want to be yours... It's just that... Well, I don't like feeling like an object.”

“You are not an object, you are my girlfriend,” she said, hardening her expression even more, but with a calmer tone. A shy smile appeared on your face as you nodded.

“You see? That's much better,” you said, kissing her gently again, noticing how her body relaxed with your caresses, with your selfless affection, something that none of them would ever have, and you would do anything to show it to her.

“Only mine,” she whispered, moving away from your lips, resting her forehead against yours, grabbing your face in an intense, desperate way.

“Yes, darling, only yours...” You repeated, wiping away a tear that was running down her cheek.

It seemed like everything was resolved, but Donna pulled away again, running a hand through her hair, shaking her head.

“No, it's not enough...” She murmured. “Your word is of no use to me…”

“Donna...” You sighed, frustrated at not being able to make her reason. “Come on, trust me.”

“I trust you,” she responded abruptly, with sincerity in her eye, which made you frown, confused. “But not them.”

“Well, that's normal,” you said amused, with a soft, comforting tone, approaching her again, caressing her trembling hand. When she raised her head to look at you, a different glow appeared in her eye, a strange one, one that you couldn't interpret.

“I have to... I have to do something... I have to show them that... That, that you are mine...” Donna murmured. She wasn't talking to you. She was talking to herself, which made you listen carefully to her ramblings to know what was on her mind.

“You show it by being by my side, giving me your affection in front of them... There is nothing else you can do to show that I only love you. You have to learn to trust me and...”

“You're wrong,” she interrupted you, changing her expression again. “There is something I can do…”

“What?” You asked curious. Donna wanted to respond, but she didn't, she just shook her head and took your hand, dragging you towards the living room. “Donna, what are you doing? What's wrong? You’re hurting me...”

Horrified by her impulsiveness, she let your sore wrist go, but the strange glint in her eye told you she was far from calming down.

“There is a way…” She whispered, grabbing you more gently this time, guiding you towards the dining room table. “A way to make them see that you are mine…”

“Okay, tell me what you are thinking,” you said in a calm tone, but with your body trembling from ignorance. It wouldn't take you long to realize her intentions, but at that moment you were completely lost.

“It won't do any good to say it. It's better... To let me doing it...” Donna whispered in your ear, biting your earlobe, forming a strange smile on your face due to that attack of sensuality. “I'm sorry, but you can't stop me, I have to do it or I will be consumed by my jealousy... I need to feel you mine, to claim you...”

“Donna, if you tell me what you're thinking...” You said, stopping talking when her hand went down your leg, getting under your dress, scratching your skin while her mouth covered you with kisses, preventing you from speaking or protesting...

“Silence, let me love you, (Y/N)” she protested, climbing you onto the table with excessive strength, placing herself between your legs and mercilessly attacking every exposed corner of your skin.

Faced with this change in circumstances, you decided to let yourself be carried away by that intense passion, by the fieryness with which her body claimed yours in such a sudden but strange way. It wasn't a slow moment, just small, innocent kisses.

No, Donna was wild, her kisses were messy and her hands played with the fabric of your underwear, thus showing her rush to have you, to take you right there, without thinking about the consequences.

“Donna...” You moaned at her soft touch, at the breeze you felt between your legs as you were freed from the article of clothing that was already beginning to get damp.

Her hips collided with yours in a sensual and fiery dance, her already noticeable erection rubbed against your body uninhibited by desire, by that sudden passion.

“Make me yours, my love...” You whispered tenderly, making her smile, releasing her trembling shaft, slowly placing it at your ready entrance.

“Don't doubt that I will, (Y/N), you will be mine forever, and we will be so happy... You'll see...” She murmured, giving your body the time to adjust to that intrusion, to the tip stretching your humidity slowly, but without wanting to withdraw.

Despite the strangeness of those words, you couldn't feel nothing but pleasure. Poor Heisenberg, surely the comparisons were hateful, hateful for him.

“Slow down, my love... It's so hard... So big... I love it,” you said, controlling your breathing, letting her erection slide completely inside you, with the ease that your excitement allowed.

Donna shook her head, gently grabbing your legs, spreading them a little more so she could move inside you better, something that made her moan, that made you moan. Her movements, although they betrayed an unusual haste, always tried to give you as much pleasure as possible, to make you see the stars, to make you swear and curse with pleasure, to make your hips move to adapt to her movements.

After a few thrusts, only accompanied by desperate moans and hungry gasps, you began to feel your body tense, preparing to release. Donna didn't seem to be far from it, but, unlike other times, her eye remained open, looking directly at you, checking the pleasure she was capable of giving you.

“I'm so close, my love... You're so good... You move so well,” you said, moving a hand to caress her cheek, a gesture that made her sigh in comfort before moaning at the wet embrace that your walls gave her as they contracted a bit.

“That's it, (Y/N), release yourself for me and I will do the same, I will claim you...” She said, her voice breaking from the intensity of her movements.

There was definitely something off about her, but your orgasm hit you before you could realize it, forcing you to arch your back and throw yourself into her arms, hanging onto her neck as her thrusts slowed.

“Good girl...” The doll maker whispered pleased by your movements, moving you away from her and lying you on the table. She grabbed your hips tightly, revealing the desire to release herself.

“You're so excited...” You said amused, moaning again as your body recovered from its release. “Watch out, okay? Try to do it out.”

Donna stopped and a sinister smile spread across her face as she shook her head.

“No, tesoro, I'm not going out. I’m going to do it inside... I'm going to get you pregnant so everyone will know that you're mine, mine forever...” Donna murmured, slowing her movements, making you sit up at those words, scared.

“What? Donna, wait…” You said when her movements resumed. Yes, that was her purpose, that was the way she would claim you. You didn't want it, but you didn't feel the need to run away or turn away either. After all, you always wanted to start a family. “This is very hasty…”

“I'm not going to wait. You will have my child, you will carry it in your womb and then we will be... A family...” She said with a whimper, unable to control her movements and words at the same time, just at the moment in which an agonized moan left her lips, making you feeling filled with her warmth, a sensation that you didn’t know, but from that moment on, you began to desire.

Your body accepted that release, writhing with pleasure as that wet, lascivious caress ran through you. You had never felt anything like that and desire and pleasure clouded your judgment, forgetting for a moment what your lover's purpose was.

“Donna... My love...” You said, your voice distorted by pleasure and worry, stroking her hair as she collapsed on top of your body, not wanting to leave you, not wanting to stop claiming you as she sobbed, surely regretting her abrupt attitude.

4 months later…

“Phone, phone!” Angie's squeaky voice was like a drill in your ears, waking you up from another of your countless naps.

“For Gods’ sake, Angie, don't yell,” you protested, sitting on the couch, sighing, with one hand on your already bulging belly.

“Don't scream, don't scream... You fat ass!” The doll mocked you, making you grit your teeth.

“I'm not fat, I'm pregnant. How should I tell you?” You said, ignoring the sound of the phone and getting up yourself to pick it up.

“Excuses...” Angie protested, making you roll your eyes and put your hand on the device, a hand that was stopped by a pale and soft one, Donna.

“Don't worry, tesoro,” she told you softly, with a reassuring smile. You kissed her softly and withdrew, pushing the doll away from your place abruptly and looking for a comfortable position, something complicated in your state.

“It’s a boy or a girl?” Angie asked, watching how you caressed your belly, while Donna responded to that call, which gave you very bad feelings.

“I've already told you that we don't know,” you said, irritable due to the pregnancy, but excited, much more excited than you thought.

“I hope it's a girl,” Angie said, when Donna hung up the phone and approached slowly, sitting next to you.

“What if it's a boy?” You asked amused, feeling more comfortable with your girlfriend by your side.

“I don't know, I guess you can make more babies, right?” The puppet answered. You laughed, eyes widening when you felt a strange movement.

“Donna, look...” You said excitedly, taking the lady in black's hand to your belly, making her feel those same movements.

“It's... Incredible,” she murmured, amazed by the movements of her child in your womb, by feeling that life the two of you had created in a strange, but lovely way.

“Yes, it is...” You whispered, enjoying that little moment for you, the beginning of that new family. “Donna.”

“Mm?” She murmured, hypnotized by her child, barely paying attention to you.

“The call, who was it?” You asked amused, making the lady wake up from her dream and look at you confused.

“Oh, yes, well... Miranda wants us to meet,” she commented with a relaxed voice, looking at you with a strange smile, which indicated she was going to ask you for something. “I would like you to come with me, you know, so everyone knows that…”

“Donna...” You protested, crossing your arms. “We have already talked about jealousy.”

“Please, I'm begging you, let me be proud of you in front of them...” She said, putting her hands together in a comical way. You had no choice but to nod.

The way was much calmer. As disturbing as it was that Donna thought a child would be the solution to her jealousy, in the end it didn't turn out to be a bad idea at all. Your pregnancy made the lady in black calm down in a surprising way, and she barely suffered crises or nightmares.

“Wow, (Y/N), I see you’re... Fine,” the priestess commented, clearly noticing the bulge in your dress. You lowered your head and bowed as a sign of respect.

“I'm better than ever, Mother Miranda,” you responded respectfully, not daring to look into those gray and dangerous eyes. She nodded, looking at Donna in a teasing but strangely loving way.

“I see... Congratulations, dear...” Miranda whispered, wrapping her arms around the lady in black, who nodded excitedly, whispering something in the witch's ear, to which the blonde nodded indicating for you to sit down.

It didn't take long for the other Lords to appear, as well as their mocking and sinister smiles, which were automatically directed towards you.

“What do my eyes are seeing...” Alcina whispered, approaching elegantly, swinging her hips sensually. You automatically put your hands on your belly, protecting it from a non-existent danger. “Little bird, you look so beautiful…”

Donna looked at her, but she didn't say anything, she seemed surprisingly calm. You nodded, grateful for the compliment, and because, after that comment and a fleeting glance at your belly, the lady in white retired to her seat.

Heisenberg, on the other hand, didn't approach you. He simply winked at you, making you shiver.

“Well, my dears, before we start, I think Donna has something to say,” Miranda commented, pleased cause that time there was no arguments or fights.

The lady in black stood up slowly, taking your hand so you could do the same. You were nervous, especially because all those evil eyes landed on you immediately.

“I just want to say that as you may have noticed, (Y/N) is pregnant. I wanted you to know before you tried to lay a finger on her,” Angie said, speaking for her owner, who was looking at you through her veil.

“Wow, and I thought you were eating too much pasta...” Heisenberg commented, amused, making Donna squeeze your hand tightly making you hiss in pain.

“You are a wild animal,” Alcina commented, despising her brother and looking back at you. “Congratulations, dears.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Karl said, standing up comically. “The kid's issue isn't because of the teasing that afternoon, right?”

Donna didn't respond, nor did Angie. Certainly, he was the most dangerous, he was tremendously intelligent.

“Oh, is that true, dear?” Alcina asked, showing her great height as she stood up. “Please, you can't be so naive, Donna. We were messing with you a bit.”

“I don't like being laughed at,” the lady in black protested, kicking the ground childishly, making you relax her again with your caresses.

“You make it very easy for us, Donna,” Heisenberg added. “Look at you. You are going to be a mother just for us to know we cannot touch your girl.”

“Shut up,” Angie protested, with an unpleasant squeak.

“I'm sure it will be a beautiful girl...” Alcina murmured, leaving the teasing aside for once. She looked like she was genuinely happy and that reassured you.

“You have no idea, Dracula, it will be a boy and I will take care of him, he needs a babysitter...” Karl said, making you smile, shaking your head.

“Don't even come close to my child, bastardo,” Donna threatened, making the Lord laugh harder.

“What? It’s my nephew,” he said, raising his eyebrows and looking at you over his glasses. You rolled your eyes, and dragged Donna back to the chair so she wouldn't get into the conflict again.

Well, at least the teasing is over, teasing that caused your future to change abruptly. You didn't blame Donna for doing it that way, you couldn't do it. She was fragile, weak, and afraid, afraid of losing you.

What she didn't know is that she would never lose you. She would never lose her family.

[the-marshals-wife]

New Horizons (Arthur Curry x Reader)

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ⋅☆⋅ 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

A/N: Requested by @dantes-devil-huntress. I can't believe this is my first Aquaman fic! This was so much fun to write, I hope you enjoy!

Premise: Trying to figure out his place in the world as the newly crowned king of Atlantis, Arthur meets someone who may just help him find the answers he looking for.

Description: Arthur Curry/Aquaman x Fem!Reader (Human), meet-cute fluff! | Warnings: alcohol, mild language | Setting: AU w/o Mera endgame, before The Lost Kingdom | Word count: 3,468

Edit: here's my Orm Marius x Reader fic for my fellow Orm girlies ;)

Gif credit: user jasonmomoaonline

Imagine Arthur giving you shelter when you're stranded in a storm, and discovering his true identity

Getting stood up for your date had been the worst part of the night, until the moment you got into your car. Instead of the engine turning over and sputtering to half-life like usual, it only stalled.

"You have got to be kidding me," you say, gripping the steering wheel and turning the key until you thought it might snap, "Come on, come on, come ON!"

Throwing open your door, you pop the hood and stumble back out into the chilled night. You mutter curses under your breath as you survey the labyrinth of steel and hoses before you.

"At least nothing's on fire this time," you mutter, rolling your eyes.

You step back and stare at the bucket of bolts the salesman had called "like new." Besides coming to this bar, buying this car was quite possibly your biggest regret. It wasn't quite a lemon, but it wasn't a Rolls either. And most of all, it was all you could afford.

You exhale, glaring up at the flickering light of the bar's neon sign. The last thing you wanted to do after waiting nearly two hours alone like a fool was show your face inside again. You retrieve your phone from your back pocket, just to see the blinking bars in the top corner. No service.

"Wonderful," you groan.

Like a bad joke, thunder rolls in the distance. You look up to see the lightning flashing on the horizon across the bay. The brisk, salt air rises up from the water and cuts right through you.

"Could this night get any better?!" you lament, an angry shriek escaping your lips as you kick the front tire.

"Excuse me, Miss?" a voice from behind interjected.

You jump and turn to see a man approaching, nervous smile on his bearded face. You appraise him wearily: tall, dark, and not at all lacking in style, clad in both leather and jewelry. He looked a sight better than the drunken fishermen you'd observed stumble about the bar, which you concluded was about ninety-percent of the clientele. Even from where he stood, he certainly seemed to smell better.

"Uh, I don't mean to interrupt, but you sound like you might need some help," he offers hesitantly.

Despite your initial scare, something about him puts you at ease.

"Oh, um...yeah, actually" you smile embarrassed, tucking your hair behind your ear, "My stupid car won't start. Again."

"Mind if I take a look?" he asks, pointing.

"Would you? That would be great, honestly," you say, folding your arms against the cold, "I just had it in the shop last week. I have no idea what's wrong now."

He pats the fender as he circles around to the front, "Let's see what's got you all clammed up here, buddy."

"Your guess is as good as mine," you say exasperated, stepping to stand behind him a ways.

He chuckles and pushes up his sleeves, ducking underneath the hood. You take note of the intricate tattoos, realizing this friendly stranger was becoming more interesting by the minute.

"Hmm, nope. Not that," he says, craning his neck, "Not that either."

You bite your lip and sway on your feet, silently praying he could find the source of the problem. Any easy fix was probably too much to hope for, but your fingers stayed mentally crossed nonetheless.

"Ooh, maybe- no, definitely not," he says, followed by a clinking sound, "That should not be there."

"I really appreciate this," you say after a moment, peering over his shoulder, "I can change the wipers and put on a spare if I have to, but that's about the extent of my car expertise."

"No shame in that," he grunts, his voice strained, "Oof, now that might be a problem."

"Did you find something?" you dare to ask.

"These spark plugs are kaput. Like, 'not even a necromancer can bring them back' kind of kaput."

"The guy said they were fine!" you exclaim, "I knew I shouldn't have gone back to that place. Probably just took my money and laughed."

The man finally stands up and winces.

"And your alternator is on its last leg," he says with a grimace, "Even if you could get it to start, I wouldn't go more than five miles in this thing."

"Great. That's just wonderful," you sigh, shaking your head, "Well, thank you for looking. It'd have taken me forever to figure that out. Google only goes so far."

"No problem, wish I had better news for ya," he says, wiping his grease-tinged hands on his jeans before extending one towards you, "I'm Arthur, by the way."

"I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you, Arthur."

"Nice to meet you too."

Despite your frustration, you couldn't help but grin. As Good Samaritans go, he was quite a handsome one. Something in the back of your mind whispered that you had seen his face before, but you couldn't place when or where.

Before you could speak again, a bolt of lightning strikes just across the harbor, followed swiftly by a crash of thunder.

Arthur looks off to the darkened horizon, his expression souring with concern.

"Storm's coming in fast," he observes, the sea breeze blowing through his long, sun-kissed hair, "Do you have someone you can call to come pick you up?"

He turn back to you, and only now do you notice just how rich and golden eyes his eyes are. For a few dizzied seconds, you forget to answer.

"Uh, not really. I'm pretty new to the area. I don't know very many people," you reply, feeling shy all of a sudden, "I can just call a Uber or something. If my service ever picks up."

"Yeah, definitely," he nods, clearing his throat, "They have a phone inside."

"Thank you again for helping me, Arthur," you say, starting to walk towards the door.

"I didn't really help, though..." he trails off, disappointment in his voice as you step past him.

Your hand is almost on the handle when he pipes up.

"Uh, look I know you don't know me, but my dad's place is just down the road from here. He's the lighthouse keeper. Him and my mom are actually away on little retreat, and I'm watching the place for them," he explains, "It's dry, warm, and definitely has a lot less drunk guys. You could wait there while the storm passes, if you wanted."

You turn back to him, trying to conceal your renewed hope, "I couldn't impose on you like that."

"Oh you wouldn't be. It's just me and the dog. He's probably getting sick of me at this point. He could use a visitor," he chuckles, "But I understand if you'd rather stay here. Strange guy at a bar invites you to a lighthouse on a dark and stormy night. Sounds like a horror movie, I know."

You laugh, and so does he, bringing some much needed levity.

"I'll bring you right back if you change your mind, just say the word," he adds, sounding truly sincere.

Almost everything in you was saying not to trust a man you'd just met, but your gut was telling you otherwise. There was more to the warmth in his eyes than just the color.

"Well, it does sound like the dog could use some company," you say thoughtfully.

Arthur smirks. "Oh yeah. There's been a Hell's Kitchen marathon on for days, and I'm pretty sure he's sick of listening to my Gordon Ramsay impression. I can't resist, love that guy."

"I might have to hear that for myself."

"Let's get you out of this weather, and we'll see what I can do about that, then," he says with a wink, "My ride is just over here."

Not even the chilled wind could overcome the warmth of your cheeks. The excitement in your chest grows with every step as you follow him across the sandy lot. The ride in question, however, soon comes into view, and the knot in your stomach tightens all the more.

"Oh boy," you say, staring at the motorcycle.

"You're not scared of bikes are you?" he questions, stepping alongside it and reaching into the black saddlebag.

"Not exactly," you hesitate, "I've just never been on one before."

He pulls out a red, half helmet and offers it to you.

"Don't worry, I won't let you fall off," he replies, amused.

You look between him and the headgear a moment before taking it.

"Besides," he says, swinging his leg over the seat, "All you have to do is hang on."

With no argument to make, and rain drops beginning to sprinkle down, you pull your hair back and fasten the helmet on. You nearly lose your balance trying to throw your leg over, having to grab his shoulder to steady yourself. He didn't seem to mind; you could have sworn you heard him snicker. You settle into the seat, heart racing from being so close to him. More anxious than ever, you lightly place your hands on his back.

"All good back there?" Arthur asks, a smile in his voice.

"All good," you repeat, unconvincingly.

"Alright then," he says, turning the key.

Seconds later, the motorcycle roars to life as he revs the engine. Arthur eases the bike back slowly, pivots out of the lot, and eases it up to the main road. The instant he accelerates, the force kicks you backward. You throw your arms around his torso, pulling yourself against him. Over the noise of the machine, you weren't sure if the rumbling in your ear that followed was thunder or laughter, but you figured was the latter.

With the bar now behind you, and the rain coming down harder with the increasing speed, you bury your face into his back and hold on tightly.

♆

The lighthouse comes into view just as the skies open up. Arthur maneuvers the bike up the slippery, sand driveway and quickly shuts it off. He gives you his hand as you climb off and leads you toward the house.

The helmet offers some protection from the downpour, but the wind blows the spray into your face as you squint to see. Lightning above illuminates the world like daylight as you scramble up onto the porch.

Arthur throws the front door open and lets you in first as you stumble inside the dark house. You take a few blind steps forward as he slams it shut behind him, thunder making the windows rattle.

"Man, someone must have really pissed off Thor," he laughs. His relief, however, is turned to exasperation as you hear a clicking sound followed by a sigh.

"Power's out. Awesome."

Still trying to catch your breath, you pull out your phone, struggling with wet fingers to use touchscreen. Finally the flashlight turns on, and Arthur throws his hand up over his eyes as you accidentally shine it right at his face.

"Sorry," you pant, pointing it down.

"No worries. That's a good idea, actually. I always forget about this thing," he remarks, grabbing his own phone and doing the same, "One second, I think Pops has some candles in the kitchen."

You nod as he disappears into the next room. Now remembering the dripping helmet on your head, you release the strap with your free hand and set it down on the mat beside the door. A shiver goes through you from your soaked clothes. You point your phone about the shadowy room to get your bearings, admiring the otherwise cozy living area. As you sweep the light downward, something large and metallic glints on the coffee table in front of the sofa and catches your eye. You move closer to get a better look, and then your heart drops to your feet. Lying beside a bag of jerky and the TV remote is a massive, gleaming trident of gold. A memory flashes through your mind of an article you'd seen weeks ago, with a fuzzy photo of an alleged aquatic hero holding a weapon just like it. The pieces come together all at once as you realize the identity of your host.

The very next second, you hear Arthur's approach. He returns with a lit candle in each hand and a blanket under his arm, only to find your expression of complete and utter shock.

"You...you're..." you stammer.

"Oof, I knew I forgot to put something away," he cringes, "My bad."

"You're the Aquaman," you gape, finding the words.

"Surprise," he says in a sing-song voice, flashing a nervous smile, "Yeah, I never really know how to bring that up.

You stare at him dumbfounded as he places the candles on the coffee table. "I can't believe it. Aren't you supposed to be like...well, in Atlantis or something?"

"I was, earlier this morning. Just about died of boredom in council meetings," he says matter-of-factly, proceeding to talk as if he had a desk job, "I'm kinda part-timing right now, between land and sea. It's complicated. I'm still new to the whole 'king' thing. Don't have all the kinks worked out yet."

"I'd imagine," you breathe, your mind still reeling.

"Here, figured you need this." He holds out the blanket, completely unphased by the previous subject, "Do you drink tea? I can make some for you."

You take the blanket and chuckle in bewilderment. "Um, sure. That would be great," you answer, "Thank you."

"One tea coming up," he smiles, "Uh, just make yourself comfortable, I'll get the fire going here a minute, after I find the dog. Pretty sure he's hiding under Pops' bed upstairs. He's terrified of storms. Ironic right? Lighthouse keeper's dog afraid of a little water."

"I don't blame him this time," you say, wrapping the blanket around your shoulders, "I think you were right about Thor."

As if on cue, another boom of thunder shakes the walls. You both burst out laughing.

♆

A few minutes later, you find yourself sitting on the floor in front of a roaring fire with a warm mug in your hands, finally beginning to feel dry. Having been unsuccessful in coaxing the dog into joining him downstairs, Arthur settles down beside you crossed-legged, damp hair tied up, trading the tea for a can of Guinness. Your thoughts rage like the storm outside as you stare into the flames, agonizing about what you should say.

Arthur speaks a moment later, saving you the trouble.

"Sorry about the power. I'll call you that cab as soon as it comes back."

"That's okay, I'm not in a hurry," you reply.

You look over at him hopefully, meeting his piercing gaze for as long as you can. Mere seconds pass before you bow your head, heart racing while you repress a smile.

"I'm uh, sure you've got some questions about all this," he ventures, rubbing the back of his head.

"Honestly, with the night I've had, meeting 'Aquaman' is par for the course," you smirk.

"I didn't mean to spring it on you like that. I guess you can understand why I don't lead with the whole King of Atlantis thing. Kinda makes it hard to keep a conversation going once people know you 'can talk to fish.' They don't really see you the same after that."

"Yeah, I think I'd probably keep that to myself too," you agree, the awe returning full-force, "Still, it must be amazing. I mean, you're basically ruler of the ocean, right? Or is it just Atlantis?"

"Eh, I mean there's the other kingdoms-"

"There's more?!" you blurt out, wide-eyed.

"Oh yeah. Xebel, the Fishermen, the Brine, a couple of defunct ones no one wants talks about. We got a few."

"And you're the ruler over all of them?"

He shrugs. "More or less. I mean, they each have their own ruler. But then I'm also over them? Kinda? I'm still figuring crap out, they didn't exactly give me a rule book on my first day. Plus I have to answer to this royal council and they've got sticks up their butts about everything I do and say," he groans, rolling his eyes, "I like to consider myself more of a 'protector of the deep' than a ruler. Sounds more cool, and less like an old fart with a crown."

You giggle, hanging on every his every word.

"And with this bad boy right here," he says, reaching behind him and patting the trident, "I command all life in the sea. The animals anyway. Between you and me, that's the best part."

"You definitely have a cooler job than me," you beam.

"It definitely has its perks. But most of the time, I'd rather be here," he sighs, punctuated by a swig of his beer.

A visible sadness washes over him as he looks into the fire.

"You aren't from Atlantis?" you question.

"No, I was raised by my father. My parents met on accident. My mother was queen of Atlantis, and she ran away from her not-so-nice guy fiancé. She got lost in a storm, and my father rescued her. They've always said it was..."

Arthur stops and turns his gaze towards you, realization in his eyes.

Your heart skips as you understand. "Fate?"

He nods thoughtfully. "Something like that."

You blink, letting him go on.

"Anyway, I know I have a calling to the sea, but the land is always going to be a part of me, you know?" His expression softens. "Here, I've always found everything I need."

His words linger in the air between you. You look down at your hands, your chest pounding.

He clears his throat. "Sorry, I know that was a lot of info."

"Just a little bit," you reply teasingly, "But your secret's safe with me, Arthur. I promise. I've got no one to tell anyway."

"Don't worry, I trust you," he says, waving his hand, "It's actually nice to have someone else to share it with."

"I'm honored that you did. I know it's not the same, but I do understand what it's like to feel that you don't belong," you confess, "I didn't fit in my 'kind' either. Moved out here to start over. I guess you could say I'm still trying to figure some crap out too."

He pauses in thought second before responding, "Do you mind if I ask you something, Y/N?"

"After everything I've asked you? I'd say it's definitely your turn," you chuckle, taking a sip of your forgotten tea.

"I saw you at the bar before you went outside. I couldn't help but notice that you were there by yourself..."

"You noticed correctly. I was supposed to meet someone for a date, but after saying he was on his way, he never showed. I tried to text him, but he blocked me. I don't even know why."

"Nothing like being stood up at some backwater bar," he concludes, frowning, "Well, screw that guy. He's a bum."

"Yeah, I figured that out too late," you agree, then give him a knowing look, "The evening wasn't a total loss. I did meet you, after all."

"That's true," he concedes, playfully stroking his beard, "I may be a half-breed rookie king, but I'm not a bum."

You snort and gesture to the television set on your right, "So much for your marathon though, huh?"

"Ah, that's alright. They were all re-runs anyway."

You raise your eyebrow. "Think I could still hear that impression?"

He holds a finger to his chin in mock deliberation, "Hmmm, have I had enough to drink for that?

"I don't know, have you?" You lean in with anticipation.

He flashes a sly grin. "Of course I bloody have," he declares in the most hackneyed attempt at a British accent you'd ever heard, "And you better listen up, because I'm about to tell you everything there is to know about how to cook a bloody good flounder."

Your sides ache with laughter as he continues to go on a tangent about how to properly sauté shallots and season the perfect demi-glace. The voice sounded nothing like the infamously tempermental chef, of course, but you still thought his attempt was cute. By the time he was yelling at his invisible staff for serving him raw fish, the storm outside had passed, and neither of you noticed.

As Arthur went to light the stove to warm up some "gourmet" SpaghettiOs, still boisterously carrying on as Chef Ramsay, your excited thoughts returned to the story about his parents. You couldn't help but wonder about your own stormy night, the man you had met, and how much of a hand fate had played in it. The horizon seemed so much brighter than before, and for the first time ever, you were grateful to have bought that car.

[olderthannetfic]

I found AO3 pretty intuitive. Took me like 5 minutes to realize how all the little buttons work. They're pretty straightforward. Apart from the AND filters - took me a while to realize what type of filters AO3 used. Beyond that, I'm not sure why people have a hard time? Wattpad and FFnet are way more of a pain in the ass.

--

It's all about familiarity.

I mean, look, AO3 works how my brain works. When we first set it up, it was what we were all used to, more or less, but an upgrade. It was hard to even see how it could ever be unintuitive because this was just How Things Were. From the style of trope tags to the fact that there's an index of fandoms by media type, it was all familiar.

But that thinking is a trap.

It's easy to say "Oh, well, that person's just an idiot", and sometimes, the problem really is laziness or sleep deprivation, but a lot of the time, it's different cultural context.

By the time we were designing AO3, I'd had many rounds of formal instruction in how to use library catalogues of various sorts, familiarity with Delicious, years in LJ slash fandom whose assumptions form the metadata structures of AO3, etc.

There's nothing strange about going "Why are ship types a top level system of organization?" or "How do I search for genre X in any anime fandom but not in non-anime fandoms?"

It's strange to me, but it's not strange in the context of people who read fanfic overall.

It's not just about learning the search features that do exist: it's about unconscious assumptions about what metadata must exist.

If you don't know to look for something and you aren't coming from a culture where poking buttons is encouraged, you're going to take a lot longer to find things than if you already have a good idea of what's probably there somewhere.

To pick two very obvious examples:

If I were designing a gen-focused archive, I'd make genre a top-level organization system, like on FFN.

If I were designing a more x-reader-focused or One True Character-focused archive, I'd make the ship searches work like Character X/Anyone instead of having to click on each ship of your blorbo or each ship with Reader.

If someone has years of experience searching for some bullshit 'trickyfish' style nonsense ship name because they're on sites with garbage searches, they'll go to AO3, plug some words into the search bar at the top, and then feel like they can't find any relevant results because everything that turns up is just that word in author's notes on an irrelevant fic. They might even go to advanced search...

...and then totally miss that the sidebar filters are the best part of AO3, and they don't appear when you do a search search as opposed to starting from a tag.

Isn't Advanced Search the most... well... advanced search? On every other website, it is, but not on AO3.

--

Each new site/technology/culture/etc. a person has to learn takes time and attention. If you're exhausted and burnt out, that's hard. Even if you're not, it takes at least some effort. It doesn't Just Happen, not for every person and every new thing.

We should tell people to read the damn FAQ, yes.

But I can't say I always do that myself on every site unless I'm both having a problem and invested enough to care about solving it.

--

On an average day, most of us don't need to care why some people have a hard time figuring out AO3.

But if anyone is planning to design a site or needs to teach a bunch of kids how to use the library or something, it's worth keeping in mind just how many unconscious assumptions are hiding behind the idea of something—literally anything—being "intuitive".

[ladykailitha]

Never Hold Back Your Step... Part 1

Here is it is. Book 2 of The Boy With a Bat and I'm posting it on the anniversary of the first chapter of "Can Anybody See Me?" I couldn't pass up the opportunity do so, you know? If you haven't read that yet, I would recommend it.

This one starts up almost immediately after the last one ended. And I do have four chapters written.

This story will go through to the end of season 3.

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

***

The weather started to warm and the Harringtons were away for longer and longer stretches of time. So to say that Steve was happy would be an understatement.

He used that open period to do his homework so that he had more time to practice his swimming. It was inevitable that Eddie would cotton on to the glaringly obvious gap in Steve’s swim practice. As in despite having a large pool of his own, Steve would practice at the school or on the weekends at the community center.

At first the excuse of it being too cold to swim in the outdoor pool, that fell away to the warmer weather. Thankfully it was the last meet of the season, and the team had gotten to state.

Steve hadn’t even bothered to tell his parents that the swim team had a chance at nationals. That they had been that good. Nope. He told Wayne Munson and Claudia Henderson though. Those were the adults he really wanted to see there. Not Clint and Marilyn Harrington. Of course Joyce and Hopper were told, too. But Claudia had become more like his mother and Wayne, the father figure he had always wanted.

Eddie had avoided the swim meets for the most part. Not because he didn’t want to support Steve. He did. The problem was the *ahem* uniform for the boys’ swim team. It consisted of one cap, one pair of goggles and the tiniest Speedo known to man. Or at least known to Eddie. He could barely handle his boyfriend in the booty shorts the basketball team wore, the Speedo was just too much for his poor developed teenaged brain.

But through begging, bribing, and blow jobs, Eddie was at that meet.

Thankfully he wasn’t sandwiched between Uncle Wayne and Claudia Henderson. Nope, Marty and Janice had come, too. The rest of them couldn’t get out of their classes to come but they all told Steve they were rooting for him.

Steve walked out in the green Speedo (being the ‘away’ team) cap. The white framed goggles perched on his head. He spoke briefly to coaches Hall and Hastings. And then turned to wave at the enthusiastic crowd. Claudia had gotten Dustin excused from school and Nancy and Jonathan were there as members of the school news paper.

All in all not a bad turnout for the boy who thought that 1985 was going to be as bad as 1984 had been. He thought he was going to end the year with no girlfriend, no friends, and no future. But that all changed with Eddie Munson deciding he was worth having. First as a friend and then as a boyfriend.

The boyfriend thing was still being kept on the down low as they were still in high school and Steve’s dad was just too big of a wild card to tell people that might get word back to him. Steve felt bad. Because it meant that Dustin and the other kids didn’t know about him and Eddie. Well...he was pretty sure Max had figured it out and maybe El, too. But everyone else was told that they were strictly bros.

A lie Eddie was surprisingly okay with. The last thing he wanted was Steve to get another concussion and if Billy and his gang scented blood in the water before, it would be a literal blood bath if Steve was even hinted at being in a relationship with another boy. Tommy and Billy could taunt all they wanted as long as there wasn’t any proof, they were fine.

It made Steve itch. But even he knew better than to scratch it.

He took a deep breath and stepped up to the starting block. He got in position and lowered his goggles. Out of the corners of his eyes he could see the other competitors look at each other, sizing each other up. But Steve was focused. He put his head down and took a deep breath. He loved the butterfly stroke. It worked his shoulders in a way that helped round out his strengths.

The whistle blew and they were off. Distantly he could hear people screaming his name and cheering him on every time he broke the water. He smiled and doubled his efforts. He touched the pad and the whistle blew. He then looked around at his competitors and saw to his satisfaction that he had definitely finished first.

Steve could hear Dustin freaking out in the stands. He pulled the goggles off his eyes and placed them on his head. He wiped the water out of his face and he looked to the stands.

Wayne was asking Claudia a question and she was explaining it animatedly. Steve grinned. He pulled himself out of the water and listened to the judges give the times. It was no record by any means, but it was much faster than his peers.

He stood up and Coach Hall raised his hand up. All his team members came up to him and cheering excitedly. Even the ones that he had beaten.

Steve sat on the sidelines and waited for the relay to start. That was his final event. He was first, followed by two other boys, Lyle and Nick, and then Ezra. Steve and Ezra were the teams two fastest swimmers and bookended the relay team.

Finally they were up. He looked up at the stands again. The most important people in Steve’s life were up there cheering him on. He got into position and pulled his goggles down. He zipped through the water like an otter and was soon tapping out for the next swimmer. He quickly got out of the way and was shocked to see that other team wasn’t even close. As each boy popped out of the water and looked at how far they were in front of the other team, they would start to jump up and down excitedly.

Soon it was the three of them waiting for Ezra to finish. There was no doubt they won. The question was whether or not they had beat the state record. Ezra tapped the board and hopped out of the water.

They waited in silence as the other team finished their run and got out of the pool. The judge must have had a flare for the dramatic as he read the other team’s time first. Steve and his team wrapped their arms around each other as they waited for the time.

Finally it was read.

“A new state record!” the judge called out.

Steve and his team started screaming and cheering.

“And thereby qualify for the regionals that will be held in Chicago this year in two weeks!” the judge continued.

They made it!

Steve looked up at the stands and the entire section that held the Hawkins fans were on their feet. Even Eddie had been lost in the sea of fans screaming their lungs out.

*

After he had showered and got the chlorine out of his hair, he walked out to all his friends waiting for him. They were holding up signs and cheering. Even Nancy and Jonathan were waiting for him.

“Steve, that was amazing, man,” Jonathan said. He snapped a a couple of pictures that left Steve blinking from the flash.

Nancy hugged him and then straightened out her skirt. She cleared her throat and said as professionally as possible, “Weekly Streak, as co-captain of the team, how does it feel making regionals for the first time in the school’s history?”

“Me and Ezra Wincott are both proud of how well our players did,” Steve said after shaking his head a little. “We’re disappointed that no one in the individual events made it, but grateful that we made it to state. It was an honor to compete.”

“Will the school be raising the money for the team to go?” Nancy asked.

Steve covered his wince with a half smile. This was a hotly contested subject between them about where school funds went. She thought that more money should go to arts like theater and the newspaper, of course.

“I wouldn’t know,” he said and pursed his lips. He licked a stripe over his upper lip and Eddie winced.

Eddie wondered if Nancy was familiar with Steve’s tell that he was seriously annoyed. Judging from her expression, probably not.

“It’s up to the administration where the funds go,” Steve said, dryly. “However, if it will help Lyle or Nick have the chance to go, I’m sure my parents would be willing to pay for me to go regardless of the school’s ability to fund the trip.”

Nancy and Eddie both scoffed, but they didn’t say anything.

“Any word on elections for next years captain or captains?” Nancy asked.

“We’ll be holding them after nationals,” Steve said. “Coaches Higgins and Hall have opted to continue with the co-captains as they have in the past few years.”

“Are you disappointed that none of the girls made it to state?” Nancy asked.

Eddie and Steve exchanged a glance over her head of exasperation. “Co-captains Laura Gilbert and Denise Portman led the girls to a great season. It was unfortunate that they went against better teams. The hope next year is that they are getting six new members next year that will freshen up the team.”

“And how many boys will be joining the team next year?”

Steve crossed his arms and licked his upper lip again, and it sent a not nice shiver down Eddie’s spine. He could tell that he was getting upset with Nancy’s questions.

“Not as many,” Steve said, knowing that was exactly why she asked. She was gloating that the girls were getting more players next year. “Only four. Which considering we’re losing six this year is quite the blow.”

“Just one last question,” Nancy said a sneer on her face. “Who are you celebrating with tonight?”

Everyone went dead silent. Steve wasn’t sure if she was being obtuse or if she was trying to out him, but it wasn’t appropriate by any stretch of the imagination.

“Friends and family,” Steve said with a sinister smile.

Nancy turned of the recorder and stuck it in her pocket. Both Eddie and Steve opened their mouths to protest, but Jonathan beat them to it.

“What the fuck was with that last question?” he growled as he packed away his camera.

Nancy rolled her eyes. “The school’s student editor is one of Tommy’s ilk and wanted me to ask it off all the people I interviewed, but especially Steve.”

“You do realize that only seven people in the whole school read the school newspaper, right?” Eddie asked. “Like everyone I know tosses it the second it gets handed to them.”

Nancy rolled her eyes. “Well maybe you guys should. It’s not just sports you know. The debate team also made it to state. The drama club got invited to perform at the drama conference with ‘Yours, Yours, Yours’ and a dozen other things that you would know if you read the only paper in town that cared about that sort of thing.”

Steve and Eddie looked at Marty and Janice and then back at Nancy.

“You do realize that that last example was a piss poor one right?” Steve asked, waving his hand to include Eddie, Janice and Marty. “We were all part of the play in some way. Of course we knew about the invite.”

Nancy rolled her eyes. “Okay, so that was a bad example. But you know what I mean.”

“It’s not the end of the world, Nance,” Dustin said. “You’re destined for greatness at some big name paper.”

Nancy blushed. “Thanks!”

Eddie smiled. “Come on, sweetheart. Uncle Wayne and I have celebration plans for you, big boy.”

Steve grinned. “Is Wayne going to barbecue like he’d been teasing all winter?”

Wayne laughed. “Not quite warm enough for that yet. I promise, once it is, I’ll blow your god damn mind.”

Steve laughed.

“No,” Claudia said with a smile. “We’re going for milk shakes at the diner. Best celebration there is.”

Steve high-fived Dustin.

****

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

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[mlm-ficcollection]

Jasper Hale X Male! Reader (part. 1)

(I couldn't live with myself, leaving you all with the old version of my fic when I have an updated one. So here you go, updated fic! Meaning, that if you've read something similar to this on here, or something exactly like this on Ao3, then it is mine. This is part one of, if everything goes as planned, three parts.)

(Part. 2)

---

"This is (y/n)."

The voice sounded blurry to him, as if he was underwater. Where was that ringing coming from? Was it even ringing? He wasn't sure, might as well just be him, might as well just get tinnitus because honestly, that would just be typical wouldn't it. Why was it so dark?... Maybe his eyes were just closed.

Memories, memories (memories had to be the key to figuring this out, right? Right.) - what was the last thing he remembered? He was in town to go shopping. Working late left him to do his groceries in the evening. It was dark, at least past 9 pm, and there weren't a lot of people out on the narrow cobbled city streets. No people. That's how he liked it.

A group of broad and tall statures with guns came out of nowhere. The rest of it was blurry- there was shouting, three rounds of bullets being fired, and then he felt the impact of his body hitting the ground. He remembered losing his vision, and feeling himself stop breathing.

And now he was here. And he realised he was not exactly sure where 'here' was. And he realised he should be dead (why wasn't he dead?).

He could hear distant arguing. But maybe they were right next to him. He wasn't sure of anything at the moment, not that he was sure of much usually. 

Parts of what was being said were comprehensible.

"....isn't safe..."

"...let him die!..."

"...dangerous!..."

"...what could I..."

(Y/n) opened his eyes just a little, only to be blinded by a heavenlike light. Squinting, he could see that the room he was in was very white, almost sterile. However, he had a feeling this was no hospital room. Then again, he was still not even sure where he was.

A groan escaped him as he felt his head start to pound, nausea rising in his throat. The people talking suddenly stopped, their attention on him. He couldn't make out any of their faces if he wanted to, and honestly, he didn't care much for that right now - not with his splitting headache. It would be absolutely lovely if they could give him something for the headache though. 

A wave of pain washed through him then, burning at his nerves and spreading through his body like a wildfire spreading through the woods. He hissed, body contorting and arching as the stabbing agony continued rocking through him, numbing every other sense he had.

"Stay with us-!"

"-me the morphine-"

And (y/n) passed out again.

---

The next time (y/n) woke up he was in a significantly more comfortable state. There were no echoing arguing voices around him and no pounding in his head as if it were splitting open. In fact, he could hear the distant sounds of birds chirping and the wind rustling through leaves. Was he in the woods? He'd just been in the city.

His throat felt scratchy, though (is this how those people in desert movies felt like?) And as he opened his eyes he was pleasantly surprised by no little sterile rooms, coupled with no blinding lights. Slowly, he sat up.

His eyes focused, and he glanced around. There were giant windows all around him, and outside of the glass was, indeed, a forest. A fucking forest (?). Not to mention, he couldn't remember ever having this good eyesight. (It had been one of his favourite problems to neglect - opticians are expensive.) 

And he also realised that none of the windows were open, which was odd, seeing as he could hear the birds as though they were right next to him. Could be some weird new glass, though. People do crazy things with glass nowadays. 

The living room, which he assumed was where he found himself, was bigger than his whole studio apartment and decorated with minimalism in mind it seemed. It honestly looked like the home of an eccentric rich man. If this was a kidnapping it was the highest class kidnapping he'd ever heard of. Five-star rated kidnapping. 

(Y/n) wasn't a very big fan of minimalism. (Then again; not his house.)

As the young man stood up and absentmindedly roamed around the house, he realised that he was... Seemingly alone. Awkwardly peeking into every room he came across and calling out only seemed to confirm this; his own voice being the only thing echoing back to him in response.

He wasn't sure if that was a good sign or a bad sign in this situation - first time being kidnapped and all.

Finally (y/n) ended up in the kitchen. Yeah, some water would definitely soothe the dryness in his throat - motherfucker, had they fed him a desert when he was out??

He sighed and reached up to tug open a cabinet, and stumbled back, caught off guard as he tugged the entire cabinet door off of its hinges. He stared at the door in his hands with wide eyes. (The fuck?? It's not even heavy...)

"...huh."

He hesitantly put the door down, squinting at it suspiciously and assuming the hinges or the wood was very weak or something. Maybe there were even termites in the wood. He grimaced at the thought of termites as he grabbed a glass for himself, and went over to the sink, grabbing ahold of the sink handle and pulling it back.

Only to yell out in shock as he pulled it off the entire handle, separating the handle from the entire fucking sink, with water now spraying out of it.

He put the glass down (dropped it on the counter) and grasped at the hole, desperately trying to stop the water from pouring out and soaking him and holy shit was it wet holy shit holy shit- 

The clearing of a throat behind him split the silence. His head snapped in that direction, wide eyes staring over his shoulder only to see a blond man in a doctor's jacket, sporting an amused smile on his face. 

Behold the aforementioned rich man, I suppose.

"Uhh... It was like this when I found it."

The man tilted his head, and did not seem convinced.

---

After around two hours of explaining the situation, there were three things (y/n) was now sure of.

1. (Y/n) had almost died earlier, and the man in the room with him, Carlisle, suspiciously surprisingly nice for being a rich man, had saved him.

2. He had saved him by turning him into a vampire. He was now a vampire. A fucking vampire.

3. He had been invited to live with him and his other kind-of-but-not-really adopted kids, who were also vampires. It was some sort of clan situation. ("- you mean like, as in a gang?" "(y/n), no-") 

The offer was extremely kind. And the mansion he was in currently was a palace compared to (y/n)'s apartment in the city. Thinking about the sheer size of the mansion was a good distraction from the fact that vampires and vampire clans were real, and had apparently been for a long fucking time.

He also knew that he had pretty much wrecked this man's kitchen. He was ignoring that fact as well. Besides, they were vampires, they didn't even use the kitchen!

Carlisle was nice to him. The doctor had a calming... Feel to him, and explained the situation in a soothing, practiced manner, that showed it was clearly not his first time explaining this. (Y/n) needed that, because he was just about one more life-changing fact away from having a breakdown. Carlisle explained that (y/n) was free to go should he choose, but also explained the dangers of being a lone vampire. ("I-I mean I haven't even met the other people here, I don't know if I can-" "That's alright, if you want to wait until you've met the others that's perfectly fine.")

And also. That thirst in his throat, was a thirst for human blood. (Y/n) violently recoiled as Carlisle stated this, though he couldn't deny the way his throat itched more at the idea, how his mouth seemed to water with venom at the mere mention of human blood.

Carlisle was very clear that there was one condition for letting him stay; he had to drink animal blood instead of human. (Y/n) had agreed quite vigorously. ("Yeah, duh, fuck yeah I agree."). (Y/n) didn't like the sceptical look Carlisle gave him at that. He got the sudden feeling that it wasn't that easy.

---

Their conversation was cut off as a door opened across the house, and the rest of the stoic family walked in, quietly. (Y/n) stood up hesitantly, preparing himself for a round of handshakes that never came. None of the 'hi, you must be new here' or the other normal things you'd expect meeting someone for the first time. They simply watched him back. He couldn't help but feel intimidated. Were all vampires like this?

"(Y/n)," Carlisle thankfully took the word, "these are the other members of the family."

The young newborn took his time to examine each one of them, glancing away from time to time and pretending he had the dignity not to stare. (This is so fucking awkward, holy shit.)

There was a kind-looking woman who approached them, standing next to Carlisle and smiling encouragingly at (y/n). 

"Esme. Carlisle's wife." She introduced herself, exchanging a disgustingly adorable look with her husband. Suddenly he felt like he was intruding, so he averted his gaze to the rest of the family.

The rest of them stood quietly in front of him in a line, almost giving off the feeling that they were standing guard. Which was a little bit odd. Did they usually do that? Carlisle had told him how dangerous newborns could be. He wondered if they were watching him for any sign of danger, if they were tense and ready to pounce on him.

The position made it easier for (y/n) to inspect them of course, but surely they could have said something...

From left to right: There was a blonde woman, eyeing him suspiciously. That was fair, he thought; he was new after all. He wondered if Carlisle had forewarned them at all. They didn't seem all too surprised, so he must have. (Y/n) smiled hesitantly at her and his gaze quickly drifted to the man next to her.

This man was... Big. Broad and tall, he practically overflowed with mischievous energy. He smirked back at him as their eyes met. It was possible it was because (Y/n)'s gaze might have lingered a second too long on the man's physique-

The newborn heard a snort from the guy next to him. He looked over at the guy confused, raising an eyebrow.

This man had a typical short-sides-long-on-top-haircut, as well as prominent sideburns. It was certainly... A haircut that one can have. His eyes were glued to the floor, an amused smile on his face, as if laughing at a joke only he knew. (Y/n) found it... Slightly infuriating. The red hair on his head was eye-catching though, he had to admit.

Next to him was a short girl who looked as though she came from a fairytale; like she might grant you three wishes. She grinned gleefully at (y/n) with big sparkling eyes, and (y/n) smiled back, relieved at the almost immediate acceptance he felt from this person. This was maybe the closest thing he'd gotten to a greeting from these people.

(It struck him then that all of them were... Attractive. He wondered if that was part of being a vampire. Was he hot now? He had to look in a mirror.

...

Could he look in a mirror?!)

He heard Carlisle speaking next to him, introducing the members and cutting his spiraling thoughts short.

"This is Rosalie, Emmett, Edward, Alice, and-"

Lastly, there was a man.

He was undeniably very handsome, with his dirty blond curly hair and pale skin (which they all had- was that a vampire trait??). His eyes carried the same yellow tint as all the others in the room- but his were different. They seemed to look into him, not through him the way Rosalie did. He felt seen.

The man in question stepped forward and offered his hand for a handshake (finally a normal fucking greeting. Holy shit.) and introducing himself before Carlisle got to. 

"Jasper. You're the newborn, right?"

He spoke with a Southern accent, which was... strangely attractive on him. (Y/n) tilted his head, observing him as he spoke, not avoiding the piercing eye contact. 

It did however take all of his self-control to not reply with 'duh' to this question.

Instead, he shook his hand, nodding slowly.

"Yeah, that's me... The-the one and only."

Carlisle appeared next to them all of a sudden. (Y/n) liked to think he hadn't noticed his approach because Carlisle moved very quietly, and would adamantly deny getting lost in the moment.

"Jasper has... Experience with newborns. He will be helping you control your urges and figure out how your body works- as you have already noted, your abilities have changed. "

He explained, looking between (y/n) and Jasper. (Y/n) nodded silently, not taking his eyes off of Jasper while Carlisle spoke, and Jasper all the same. Therefore neither of them noticed the knowing look that was exchanged between Edward and Carlisle, nor the curious glances between the rest of the family members, or the wide grin on Alice's face.

---

The gentle sounds of a forest filled his ears, and the smell of dirt and nature filled his nose. It was pleasant, not like the oil and smog that festered in his nose and drooped down his throat in the city. The increased sense of smell was, in this case, definitely a good thing about being a vampire.

It was currently only him and Jasper, out in the woods, a place they had frequented the last week while waiting for the vampirism in his body to 'calm down' - a thing it apparently needed to do before they started trying to control his strength. 

(Y/n) thought it was ridiculous, honestly. So what, he broke a measly kitchen door. That didn't mean he was outrageously strong. American houses are practically made of cardboard anyway! But yet... 

"Pick up that log."

Jasper broke the silence as he pointed to a fallen tree, speaking with that lovely accent of his. If only what he said wasn't so incredibly stupid.

(Y/n) scoffed out a laugh in response, arms crossed over his chest.

"Are you joking? I can't pick up a fucking tree! I'm a vampire, not fucking... Superman!" He sputtered, gesturing wildly to the trunk. 

Jasper rolled his eyes and walked past him, over to the fallen tree. The newborn scoffed at him, shaking his head and looking away. Is this guy fucking crazy?

There was a creaking sound, and the next time (y/n) looked over the man had picked up a tree, and was now effortlessly holding it over his head. He looked at (y/n) with a slightly annoyed expression, that he certainly couldn't care less about because Jasper was holding a fucking tree over his head.

(Y/n) was speechless. This guy is fucking crazy-

The dirty-blond man dropped the tree to the ground, casually dusting off his hands as he wandered back over to (y/n).

"Not only are you a vampire; you're a newborn. You're at your strongest point. If you don't learn to control your strength, you could very well accidentally kill any of us."

He stated, crossing his arms over his chest and gazing out over the forest. (Y/n) watched him with shining eyes, amazed and slightly overwhelmed by the situation he found himself in.

The newborn simply nodded dumbly, closing his mouth and walking over to the fallen tree. He swallowed nervously, glancing up at Jasper. The other man offered no support but a piercing and expectant gaze - and somehow that was enough for him to fully know that Jasper believed in him.

Before he knew it, he was holding a tree over his head. He let out a surprised laugh, not caring about the dead leaves falling around him like snow, and looking at Jasper with wide eyes. He dropped the tree to the forest floor with a thud.

It became clear that he actually wasn't human anymore. He couldn't be. Not with the way his skin sparkled beneath the sun and the way physics seemed to bend for him. He wasn't human anymore. 

Maybe he was Superman after all?

 

---

"So, we have to figure out what to tell your family, your relatives etcetera..."

It was hardly two weeks into his stay as Carlisle went through the steps of living like a vampire, keeping his eyes fixed on (y/n) with a slightly worried look on his face. Something told the newborn that Carlisle found this to be the hardest part of transitioning into a vampire. 

The group was currently in the living room, and dusk had fallen. (Y/n) found the house to be more homelike during nighttime - the lamps cast a yellow glow that reminded him of fire and made the whiteness of the interior seem less... Constricting.

The topic of (y/n)'s family made the newborn freeze up beneath their excruciating gazes, and he felt a chill run down his spine. He wondered if he had grown pale or if he just felt like he had. He probably couldn't grow pale, could he? No blood and all.

This was an unavoidable subject, the one of his family. Yet it was one he would be more than happy to ignore for the rest of his life - because with the subject of his family, there would be explanations needed, questions answer that he really would prefer not to answer right now.

(Y/n) glanced down nervously. He wasn't sure whether he actually wanted to have a conversation about them. Not now, not yet.

"I-it's fine, they won't mind."

He looked up at Carlisle with a sorry attempt at a reassuring smile on his face. Carlisle frowned.

"They threw him out."

(Y/n) sputtered and spun around, coming face to face with Edward. Edward, who had just told everyone he had been thrown out, abandoned by his own family. Had he any blood his cheeks would burn in shame by now. That stupid mind-reading was getting annoying.

He shot him a glare. Edward merely shrugged.

Fucking asshole. 

"Yes, thank you, Edward."

When he turned back to Carlisle, Jasper was now standing next to him, arms crossed over his chest and with an equally as concerned look on his face as Carlisles. This fucking guy just seems to manifest, he thought.

"Why would they do that?" Jasper mumbled in confusion, more so to himself than genuinely asking. 

"It's because-"

"Edward don't you fucking dare." (Y/n) quickly shot a fierce glare back at Edward, warning him, before looking forward again. He glanced between Jasper and Carlisle (looking just as concerned as before), and then looked down, taking a shaky breath.

This could end badly. It had a track record of ending badly. He didn't want it to end badly. Not with them.

"I'm...I..."

He sighed as he trailed off, digging the heels of his palms into his face and trying to clear his head. Coming out never really did get easier did it? 

"just-... Okay just give me a moment."

"He's gay."

"Edward I swear to fucking mother of Christ-"

Carlisle had to physically stop him from getting into a fight with Edward that night.

[apomaro-mellow]

King and Prince 29

Part 28

“Summer will be upon us soon”, Nancy said while scribbling away on some parchment.

“Mhm, that means a new crop of squires, ready to start their trials”, Eddie was lounging on a chaise, playing with a mess of thread in his hands.

“You know I can’t give Lucas any special treatment. Not because he’s my brother’s friend, nor your paramour’s protege.”

Eddie turned over onto his stomach to look at Nancy sitting at her desk, his eyes sparkling. It wasn’t quite the reaction she had been expecting. He had heard her, right? That she wouldn’t be giving anyone preferential treatment? She never did.

“You think Steve and I could be paramours?”

“....I swear you only hear half the words I say.”

“I heard you loud and clear. I just don’t think Lucas will need a leg up or anything like that. But your thoughts on me and the little prince would be news to me.”

Nancy let out a breath. “I don’t think there’s anything inherently wrong with you pursuing him.”

“The ‘but’ is so loud you might want to get your intestines checked.”

“But, you should know you’re playing with fire. Even if he’s been unofficially disowned, he’s still a prince. One whose family has wished for our destruction. If this goes to your favor and you are wed, have you thought about what your subjects might say?”

Eddie stopped fiddling with the thread. “I have. And I’ve decided that while I am open to hearing concerns, I’m not giving up on him. Anyone with a problem with that can take it up with me personally.”

“Hm. I thought as much. Just don’t, you know, burn the whole kingdom just for him.”

“Do you really think I’m that far gone?”, Eddie asked.

Nancy thought about how she’d seen Eddie around the training grounds more and more and how that had everything to do with Steve taking Lucas under his wing. And because of that, she deigned not to answer.

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

“You really think I’ll pass?”, Lucas asked, panting as he put his wooden sword away.

Steve was wiping the sweat off of himself with a cloth. “I think you’re one of the most passionate kids I’ve ever met. You’re on your way to mastering swordplay and archery. You’re going to ace this.”

“So like, are you planning on actually marrying Eddie?”, Lucas asked.

He wasn’t the only one curious. Everyone in the castle was abuzz with this new development and of course, the news began to move from within the walls to outside of it. The gossip traveled and everyone had their own spin on it. The king was courting a young man was what everyone got right. But as to the identity of that man, people couldn’t quite agree.

He was a prince, no a duke, no an earl, no he wasn’t from the aristocracy at all. He was in his thirties, no his twenties, no he was only fifteen because he was around the children of the castle often, no he was, but as a mentor so he had to be at least a few years older. He was very handsome, no he just looked okay, well their immortal king had written so much about his appearance so he must be ethereal. The king had written a few, no many, no an entire tome’s worth of letters courting him.

“Either way, can you imagine it? A royal wedding?”

Jason could hear some woman prattle on with his mother while he wrapped up a few chops in the back.

“I can’t even imagine what that would look like”, his mother replied. “King Edward has never done anything like this.”

“He must truly be in love. And if the rumors are true, he’s a real bonafide prince.”

Jason slammed the meat down onto the counter, jolting them both. “Has anyone figured out which kingdom?”

“Oh, this is all just gossip, Jason”, Mrs. Carver said. “If His Majesty is truly courting with foreign royalty, it would be for the good of our kingdom.”

“Well how do we know it isn’t completely selfish? How do we know he didn’t just snatch someone up?”

“He wouldn’t do that.”

“Or how about this? If they are a prince? How do we know his intentions are pure?”

“Oh you’re being paranoid”, his mother said placatingly. She muttered something to the lady about him recently breaking things off with a lover and the woman nodded sagely before grabbing her order and leaving.

But it wasn’t as simple as all that to Jason. He alone, knew the truth of what was happening and yet he had to hear misinformation everywhere he went. In his own family shop, on the streets, even in the tavern. The very place he had met Steve one night and while he was trying to drink himself to numbness, he had to listen to a group of guys sitting at a table, trading rumors about Steve’s true identity.

“He’s not what you think he is”, Jason finally spoke up, pushing his drink away.

“Huh?”

“What’s the butcher’s boy going on about?”

“The man our king is trying to tie himself to”, Jason clarified as he stood up from the bar and walked over to their table. “He’s a lying snake.”

“And what do you know about him?”

“I know him too well. Met him right here, even talked to him at this very table. He looked sweet. Until he wasn’t.”

The men scoffed and that riled up Jason enough to raise his voice, garnering the attention of the other patrons. Even the musician in the corner stopped playing. Emboldened, Jason continued.

“His name is Steve. And he would come into town. He would, he would spread his legs and break hearts and damn those he left behind.”

“Ahh, he’s just a spurned lover”, someone commented.

“That’s how it was at first!”, Jason quickly regained control of the conversation. “I thought I was just another person on his trail, to be left behind when he moved to the next town because that’s what he led me to believe. That he was just a traveler. But then he gave me this letter. This letter told me everything and now I know the truth.”

When no one interrupted him, he kept going, telling them of the kingdom that Steve had come from. That he was a Harrington, someone who had actively pushed against their borders and that wasn’t enough for them. People began to leave, not wanting to hear the drunken ravings of a man who had been dumped.

But the seed had already been planted. And the longer this courtship went on without an official decree, the more doubt began to spread among the people. The story turned from their wise king finally giving his heart to someone, to an invasion in the form of a seduction.

“Why else would he be going after our king, huh?”, Jason posed the question to a crowd that gathered outside the butcher shop. “He was literally walking these streets, stringing people along, he could’ve had anyone. But he goes for the most powerful man in the country. Nothing he ever did made sense to me but when I got this-” He brandished the letter, crumpled but still legible.

“This made everything so much more clear. Within those walls”, he pointed to the castle, “Is an imminent danger. Today it’s just him, tomorrow it could be his whole army at our doorstep.”

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

Eddie was pretty good at keeping his ear to the ground. So he could tell almost immediately when the rumor mill began to turn against him and Steve. He hadn’t wanted to make an official announcement and thus thrust Steve back into the royal spotlight too soon. But what was happening was getting too much to ignore.

He knew of it, even before his council brought it to his attention. He was pacing about in a sitting room, Robin, Nancy, and Jeff there as he figured out how to bring it up to Steve, and how to move forward. Of course, as if summoned, Steve pushed the doors open and stomped in.

“Have you heard what they’re saying about you?!”

“I have”, Eddie said. “As well as what they’re saying about you.”

“It can’t stand. He can’t talk about his king that way. That isn’t why I gave him that letter!”

Eddie came over to Steve, clutching his hands. “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you look with the fire of righteousness blazing in your eyes?”

Steve would have been embarrassed to say how fast he melted if it wasn’t for the fact that it came with how warm Eddie’s gaze was on him. It almost made him forget why he had come in here in the first place. 

“As I was s-saying, you can’t let this stand. You can’t keep letting him spread these lies about you.”

“What lies? You came from another country with the sole intent to seduce your way to my throne”, Eddie teased, bringing Steve’s knuckles up to his lips.

“Is that how it happened? Because I remember carting a package and dumping it in the dungeon”, Nancy piped up.

“I remember you handing him off to me with little regard”, Robin added.

Jeff started, “And I seem to recall-”

“Now those are lies and slander that I will not allow”, Eddie said. “I have always treasured you above all, my sweet.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Don’t try and change our story, I was there for it. I will say, I think I’m getting to my favorite part…”

“Hey your faces need to be six inches apart at all times”, Jeff reminded.

“We are such good chaperones”, Robin shook her head.

“Eddie, let me do this for you”, Steve said, taking a step back from him.

Eddie’s brow raised. “Do what?”

“Fight for your honor.”

Part 30

Taglist CLOSED

@thesuninyaface @only-evanescent  @snakeorsquid  @ignoremyworld  @theclichefortunecookie 

@goodolefashionedloverboi  @just-a-tiny-void  @0body0disphoria0  @cinnamon-mushroomabomination  @samsoble 

@jamieweasley13  @y4r3luv  @xtkxkrzrizir  @un-knownperson  @greekgeek24 

@justdrugsformethanks  @potato-of-the-lord  @notaqueenakhaleesi  @swimmingbirdrunningrock  @queenie-ofthe-void 

@nebulainajar  @lil-gremlin-things  @nicememerino  @robininblue  @hornedqueenofhell 

@anne-bennett-cosplayer  @moomkin77  @here4thetrama  @bookworm0690  @autumncrocusandladybug

@lil-gremlin-things @littlebluejane @puppy-steve

[belovedspector]

Love at First Sight's for Suckers (At Least, It Used to Be)

Pairing: Jake Lockley x f!reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: Jake can’t help but notice you when you become a regular at his favorite diner.

Content: Fluff!

A/N: Title is from “I Never Planned on You” from Newsies. I’ve never written for Jake before, and I haven’t read the comics, so I don’t have much to go off of, but I figured I’d give it a shot. I hope I did okay! Enjoy! :)

Masterlist

Jake Lockley knows his place. He’s the protector of the system, keeping Marc and Steven out of harm’s way and doing Khonshu’s dirty work. He doesn’t have time for “earthly pleasures,” as Khonshu had once put it. He doesn’t really have a life outside of protecting his alters and the travelers of the night, and he’s fine with that. He’s content to lurk in the shadows if it means Marc and Steven getting to live their best lives. He treasures what interaction he does get, when he’s driving his cab through the city or getting food late at night after a mission. He tries not to dwell on it, though; there’s no sense in mourning what he can’t have.

Jake notices everything. It’s his job, to always be on high-alert, even when he’s not the one fronting. So, when you start showing up at his favorite diner every Friday night like clockwork, he notices. He observes from afar. From that first time you walked in, the bell tinkling to announce your presence, he’d been…interested in you. He’s not sure why—it’s not like you pose a threat. You should fade into the background, just like everyone else.

But, you don’t.

Jake can’t help but take note of everything you do—the way you always say your “please”s and “thank you”s to the waitress, your soft laugh, your sweet smile, the ungodly amount of sugar you put in your coffee. He’s good at watching people; it’s part of his job, after all, so he’s able to absorb you and your habits without drawing suspicion from you or anyone else. Some might call it creepy, but Jake means no harm, and he can’t help his…infatuation with you. He doesn’t know what’s happening to him.

One night, he finds himself rambling as he drives around the city. He likes to talk out loud to himself in the safety of his cab; it gives him a chance to make sense of his thoughts, and it’s not like he has anyone else to share them with.

He starts off by talking himself through the details of his upcoming mission, but he soon finds his mind wandering to bright eyes and the scent of coffee. You.

“She’s really something, huh?” Jake says to himself. “I—I don’t know what it is about her. I can’t stop thinking about her.”

“I think you humans call it a ‘crush.’” Khonshu suddenly appears hunched over in the back seat of Jake’s cab, and, if he was a less skilled driver, Jake absolutely would have crashed. As it is, he jumps almost imperceptibly in his seat, swerving the tiniest bit before regaining control of the vehicle.

“What?” Jake asks, not even sparing Khonshu a glance in the rear-view mirror. He’s used to the god’s antics by now.

“It appears you have a crush, Jake Lockley.”

“I don’t get crushes,” Jake protests. “Don’t have time for that shit.” He grips the steering wheel more tightly, the leather of his gloves straining against his knuckles.

“You’re right; you don’t have time,” Khonshu agrees, “so I suggest you nip this little problem in the bud, before it interferes with our work.”

“What, you want me to kill her?” he deadpans.

“No, nothing that extreme. I was going to suggest finding a new diner.”

“But I like that diner.”

“Then you’d best find a way to ignore the girl.”

With that, Khonshu disappears, and Jake mutters some choice words about the bird in the quiet of his car.

It’s Friday night again. Jake sits alone at his usual booth—in the corner, with his back to the wall, so he can continually scan the entire diner for any threats. He alternates between sipping at his coffee and taking bites of his blueberry pie while scanning the newspaper.

The door opens, the bell ringing along with it, and Jake instinctively looks up.

It’s you.

Jake casts his eyes back down to the sports page. Khonshu had given him orders, and he intends to follow them.

His plan is going great. He’s not thinking about you, not even a little bit. But, shit, now he’s thinking about how he’s not thinking about you. Does that count as thinking about you?

Jake returns his coffee cup to the table with a little more force than necessary. He can feel a headache coming on.

Get it together, Lockley.

He looks up again to do another sweep of the interior, when he notices you’re not sitting in your usual spot. No, you’re…walking towards him. Surely, you’re just going to use the bathroom past his seat, right?

No such luck. You stop at his booth, standing awkwardly with your hands clasped in front of you.

Slowly, Jake moves his eyes from his newspaper and allows them to find yours. He’s never seen you up close before, and, God, you’re even more breathtaking when he can see the sparkle of your eyes and the way your lips curve upward into a soft smile.

“Um, hi,” you start, rocking a little on your feet. “Sorry to bother you. I was just wondering if you had a pen?”

Jake’s not very well-versed in pickup lines, but he’s pretty sure that can’t be one, right? He stares at you for a few beats, dumbfounded that you’re really speaking to him, before he pulls himself together.

He clears his throat and answers, “Uh, yes.” He reaches for the pen he always keeps in his jacket pocket and hands it to you.

He can’t help but notice the way your soft, warm fingers brush against his as the pen exchanges hands.

“Thank you!” you say, and you sound so sincere. “I just wanted to do today’s crossword. I’ll have this back before you know it.”

“Sure,” Jake forces out as you turn on your heel, back to what he’s begun thinking of as “your” booth.

He goes back to his own paper, definitely not thinking about you and your sweet smile and soft hands. It’s by complete coincidence that the next page he turns to has the daily crossword puzzle. He’s never been much for puzzles; that’s more Steven’s thing. Still, he takes a look.

Across 1. An infatuation with another person

It’s five letters. It can’t be anything other than “crush.” Jake groans. He scans the rest of the clues and notices they all seem to revolve around love. It dawns on him that Valentine’s Day is fast approaching. So, maybe the universe isn’t totally fucking with him, after all.

Jake has just about finished his pie when you come bounding over. You don’t wait for him to look up before you’re speaking.

“Thank you again!” you say, placing his pen back on the table near his coffee cup.

You’re already turning to go back to your booth, but Jake can’t just let you go. Screw Khonshu’s orders, he thinks.

“Wait,” he calls to you. He half-expects you to ignore him, to keep walking away, but you do turn around and take a step closer to him. Shit, now he needs to think of something to say to you. “That was, uh, fast,” he says lamely.

You beam at him, and it’s just about the prettiest thing Jake has ever seen. “Oh, yeah, I used to do them with my dad all the time, so I’ve gotten pretty good at them.” Your eyes drop to his newspaper that sits forgotten on the table, still open to the puzzle page. “Oh, do you do crosswords, too?” you ask, and you look like you’re genuinely interested in his answer.

“Oh, uh, not really.” Jake’s hand comes up to rub the back of his neck nervously. Since when does he get nervous?

“Ah,” you say, nodding wisely, “you must be more of a Sudoku guy.”

“Uh, yeah.”

Great conversation skills, Lockley, he chastises himself.

“Well, thanks again for the pen. I hope I didn’t keep you from your Sudoku for too long…” You trail off, and Jake realizes, belatedly, that you’re waiting for him to offer his name.

“Jake,” he provides, putting on his most charming smile.

You smile right back, telling him your own name.

“Pretty name,” he remarks.

“Thanks, I got it for my birthday.”

Jake just stares at you for a moment before the joke lands, and then he’s laughing—like, genuinely laughing. He can’t remember the last time this has happened.

He notices you seem a little flustered. Maybe he laughed too hard? Maybe it wasn’t even a joke, and he just totally misread the situation? Maybe—

“Wow, I don’t think anyone’s ever actually laughed at that one,” you say with a slight chuckle of your own.

“I liked it,” Jake says honestly, as if you couldn’t already tell. Before he can second guess himself, he’s asking, “Can I buy you a cup of coffee?”

“Oh!” A look of surprise crosses your face. “Um, yeah, I’d like that. May I?” you ask, gesturing to the bench seat across from him.

“Please,” he says with a wave of his hand.

You slide into the booth as Jake gets the attention of the waitress and orders two coffees.

“Anything else?” the waitress asks, looking between the two of you expectantly, pen ready against her notepad.

“The pie’s really good,” Jake tells you. “My treat.”

You seem hesitant. “Oh, no, I couldn’t—”

“Come on,” he encourages with a smile.

“It is really good,” the waitress chimes in. 

“Well, okay,” you relent. “One slice of”—you look down at the table to scan the menu briefly—“chocolate cream pie, please.”

“Coming right up,” the waitress says with a smile and a click of her pen.

The time passes quickly, and the conversation between you and Jake flows as freely as the coffee. All that’s left of your pie is an empty plate with a few stray crumbs. You’re laughing at some comment Jake made when you glance down at your watch.

“Shit,” you say, your brows furrowing together in worry.

“Everything okay?” Jake asks.

“Yeah, I just didn’t realize how late it had gotten,” you say. An apologetic look crosses your face.

Jake checks his own watch. 2:53 am. He really should be getting back home, so Steven and Marc can wake up in the morning without suspecting anything.

“Can I drive you home?” he offers.

“Oh, that’s okay.” You shake your head. “I’m just a couple blocks over.”

“It’s late. I’d feel better if I knew you got home safely.”

“You’re sure it’s no trouble?” you ask hesitantly.

“Not at all,” he says with a smile. He’s smiled a lot tonight.

“Well, lead the way,” you say as you both exit the booth.

Jake throws a wad of cash on the table—more than enough to cover the coffee and pie—and walks you to his cab parked out front.

“You’re a cab driver?” you ask, sounding intrigued.

“I am,” Jake says as he opens the passenger’s door for you.

You pick up right where you left off at the diner, intermittently giving Jake directions to your apartment. He doesn’t want the night to end, but, soon enough, he’s parking in front of your building.

You start to unbuckle your seat belt but pause and turn to him. “Hey, can I borrow your pen again?”

“Oh, uh, sure,” Jake says, digging it out of his pocket and handing it over once more.

You take it with a smile and reach into your pants pocket. You pull out a crumpled napkin and quickly write something before handing both the napkin and pen to Jake.

Jake looks down to find your name and phone number written on the napkin.

You smile, looking a little shy. “In case you want to see me before next Friday,” you explain.

Jake doesn’t even think about the implication that you’ve noticed him at the diner every week, just like he’s noticed you. No, he’s too excited about the fact that you want to see him again, maybe even to go on a proper date. He hopes you can’t tell that he’s blushing in the dim glow of the cab’s ceiling light.

“Good night, Jake,” you say, finally unbuckling your seat belt and opening the door.

Normally, he’d do the gentlemanly thing and open the door for you, but he’d been too caught up in this surreal moment. Next time, he thinks, because there definitely will be a next time.

“Good night,” he echoes, still in a bit of a daze. He watches as you walk up the stairs to your apartment, making sure you’re safely inside before he pulls away from the curb.

Jake will deal with Khonshu’s wrath over disobeying orders. It will be more than worth it, if it means getting to see you again.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Please feel free to let me know what you think! :)