akafuckyou-blog

[akafuckyou-blog]

@fe-fist

#aka muse #ft. danny

[akafuckyou-blog]

redheadliss:

SHe listened, any interuption would throw Jessica off and Liss really ddin’t want that, she wasn’t used to such affection from the other, sure they drank together and spent time with one another, but it was always just casual, they didn’t speak of their own problems or mention the others, it was the one unspoken rle between them, if things got too deep then tey opened up another bottle and changed the subject, but that had changed. Liss couldn’t ignore this anymore, it was so very real and she couldn’t just push it aside and pretend it wasn’t happening, and she wouldn’t lie to Jessica about how shit it made her feel. “Don’t…don’t call him that.” Frowning, the girls eyes met the others again, even the idea of someone calling Dante a freak hurt, though she couldn’t quite explain why she was so defensive of him already, “I dunno, he keeps saying he’d die for me, do anything for me, because I’m his Queen.” A laugh escaped her, the whole conversation was crazy, “I’m fine there for now, it’s actually kind of nice, having someone in the house when I wake up in the middle of the night, but I dunno, I think if he cared for me then it would be different, he cares for Medusalith, the next in line for the throne, but I don’t think he has a clue who I am, who Liss is, and I don’t think he’s here to protect her.” She shrugged again, but nodded, smiling a little over toward Jessica, this was why she trusted the other so implicitely, she cared even if caring meant digging into those close to Liss, it was her own way of protecting the younger girl and Liss knew it. “’m not gonna stop you, looking into it or whatever, I’ll take whatever answers I can get, but I guess it’s not the worst thing to have someone protecting me, now my name is on that list, even if he doesn’t give a fuck about me.”

Liss didn’t say anything while she rambled, tried to spout advice she had no right giving -- the hypocrisy in her words was real and tangible, but Liss seemed to listen anyway. And for a second, Jessica let herself believe that she was getting through, that maybe, she was making a difference.

She still wasn’t a goddamn hero. But she was less a piece of shit than usual. That was enough for her.

She shook her head, smiling weakly. “His words, not mine. Just thought it was catchy,” she replied. Liss’ explanation was too similar to the things Kilgrave would whisper to her. She couldn’t help but remember his demented declaration in the police station. I’m the only one who challenges you. Who would do anything for you. “It’s easy to die for someone,” she said, forcing herself to focus on here and now. The past was a sticky trap of pain and misery, and she couldn’t afford to let herself get caught in it right now. She nodded, understanding implicitly. “He’s got an idea of who you are. But he doesn’t know you. And there’s a difference,” she said softly. She reached out again, took Liss’ hand in hers. “Couldn’t stop me if you tried,” she quipped, smirking lightly. “And look, if this guy only cares about Medusalith, then he’s goddamn missing out. I’ve never met her, but she seems pretty dull compared to Liss. Fuck what he thinks you should be, okay. You be whoever the hell you want to be, and if that’s not good enough for him, then he can fuck off. I’ll protect you,” she said, the words coming out of her mouth before she could stop them. But she wouldn’t have pulled them back even if she could, she believed them when she said it. “People on that list gotta watch out for each other,” she murmured, thinking of what Frank had said. Her greatest weakness was coming through -- she gave a damn about Liss. And for once, it didn’t feel like a weakness. 

#liss #liss: dip

[akafuckyou-blog]

neversaidpilct:

Sam nodded, backing off. “I know, I know.” He’s used to not pushing too hard, especially with strangers. Not everyone wanted help. That seemed to be most of the Avengers’ motto, actually. Sam himself had a hard time accepting help, at least with certain things. “You threw someone through a door? Damn.”

She returned the nod, smiling gently. “You’re not one of the pushy ones. Good,” she said, thinking for a moment that his group might actually be lucky to have him in charge. He reminded her a little of Malcolm in that way. 

“More than one,” she repeated, shrugging, a little bit of pride in her voice. “They were dissatisfied with their results, even though I warned them. Thought they could take their bullshit out on me, and I’m not a huge fan of that,” she said, almost playfully. “My door is sort of perpetually broken, I’ve given up on it. Lost cause,” she quipped. Not like it did much to make her feel safe anyway, broken or not.

#sam #sam: who

[akafuckyou-blog]

cheeseitted:

“WELL, if it means anything i think you should be able to show your body. not in like a creepy way! in a it’s your body if you wanna flaunt it, flaunt it kinda way.” he shrugged softly. “it’s not as big of a deal in the future in case you were wondering though.” then he drops the shirt and picks up a baby blue one, “what about this one? also i agree, orange is terrible on anyone.”  

She smirked at his comments. “I’m not big into public nudity, personally. But I appreciate the sentiment,” she replied. She raised a brow, tilting her head. “Future?” she echoed. “Oh, goddammit. Another freakin’ time traveler? Jesus, this city is goddamn weird,” she muttered, striding over to him. She touched the hem of the shirt he’d picked up, rubbing the material between her fingers. “It’s not bad,” she said after a moment. “You dressing to impress somebody?” 

#booster #booster: dressing room

[akafuckyou-blog]

robberofatms:

Len hummed, scanning over all the names. “Only when it’s something I can rob.” He wasn’t too concerned with registration news, thinking he could get the information whenever he wanted now, anyways. Not in a hurry to learn everyone’s secret.

His gaze turned to Jessica at her confession and scoffed. Normally, he’d agree that she needed a warning label, but everyone needed one for something or another. No one’s perfect. “So you slapped one on yourself. How’s that working for you?”

She scoffed at his answer. “Should’ve expected that,” she muttered. Snart was nothing if not practical. Though sometimes, she caught a glimpse of an actual human being inside him. Sometimes, she wondered if Barry had a goddamn point, if he hadn’t been a total idiot in trusting Snart with his promise. 

Jessica bristled at his question, his sneering gaze. “Not great,” she admitted, turning back towards the papers. She wondered if Kilgrave had seen it, if he’d think she was trying to play hero again. If he was back, he could use this against her. But she wasn’t going to hide from him this time. Wasn’t going to even try to run. She’d face him, whatever plans he had, and finish it. “He’s not here,” she said, shaking her head and scanning the street once more. “And say what you want, but I need a goddamn drink. You got any booze in that goddamn safehouse of yours?” 

#len #len: kilgrave

[akafuckyou-blog]

hawkguybartcn:

Clint smiled slightly when he read the words, because leave it to Jessica to manage sarcasm even on paper. It was familiar, even if they hadn’t known each other wrong. Maybe it was because it was something Clint might do himself, maybe it was just because he was so used to her now, even in spite of the short amount of time they’d been around each other. He figured it didn’t really matter one way or another. The familiarity was comforting, and that was all he really needed to know right now. 

“I just fired the shot,” he said with a shrug. He wouldn’t have been able to do it without her; Julian would’ve kept him from taking his aids out if not for Jessica drawing his attention away. (Clint didn’t want to think about that. He knew what he was, and like any weapon, he was dangerous in the wrong hands.) “You did all the heavy lifting. Any idiot can fire an arrow, y’know?” 

It was another thing he’d accepted a long time ago; that, ultimately, he was replaceable. Kate did what he did, Barney did what he did, Queen did what he did. It wasn’t really hard once you’d gotten the hang of it. It was why Clint made sure he had other skills, too, why he tried to make himself valuable. He was always going to be worried about being replaced. 

Jessica took another swig from her bottle before speaking again, and for someone else, it might have made it harder to understand her. But Clint was used to reading slurred words from drunken lips, had been taught at a fairly young age. (Sometimes, it was almost easier than reading sober lips.) 

He snorted at her quip, shaking his head. “Believe it or not, this isn’t something that happens a lot. Those things are pretty durable, y’know?” He leaned over, lowering his voice as if he was sharing a big secret. “The trick to keepin’ ‘em intact is forgetting them nine times outta ten.”

They say that most conversation happens through body language, that spoken word really only acts as seasoning on a conversation, and Clint could kind of attest to that. You could tell more about what a person was thinking by how they moved than what they said. He wasn’t as good at it as some people – Natasha had him beat by a long shot – but he liked to think he had an upper hand sometimes. He was used to relying on the things that weren’t said. He saw the way Jessica looked down, her expression as she did so. He couldn’t quite place it (guilt, maybe?), but he knew it was nothing good. 

He saw a million questions die on her tongue, and he figured he could guess most of them. He’d been asked them all before, been interrogated over and over. He was relieved when she didn’t ask any of them, relieved when she stuck to easy stuff.

“Natasha,” he replied, thinking of their conversation when he’d woken up. Of the way he’d begged her to tell him the extent of the damage (“How many people did I –”), the way she’d refused to budge (“Don’t do that to yourself.”). He’d never been sure if he resented her or owed her for keeping it from him. It would’ve driven him crazy, he knew, would’ve made him lose whatever Loki hadn’t already taken. He remembered everything he did, remembered all the people (friends) he’d killed while looking them in the eye, but he still didn’t know how many he’d taken out on the Hellicarrier. How many he’d shot down from a distance. “She, uh. Hit me really hard in the head, to borrow her wording.”

For a moment, he was quiet, but it didn’t last. Clint didn’t do quiet well. “How’d you do it?”

“I can’t,” she said, a wry smirk on her lips. It didn’t quite meet her eyes, it was more a force of habit than anything else. She turned towards him. “Tried archery once. Summer camp, my parents made me go...” She trailed off, remembering how much she’d hated it. Every second. Had cursed her parents while sleeping on that stupid plastic mattress in a stupid fake wood cabin, surrounded by other 11 year olds who though braiding hair was super fun! 

She’d fought with them, her mom and dad, the entire way there. She regretted that now. Regretted every fight she’d ever picked with them -- but even those memories were grounding. The ones she turned to on nights like this, when everything else in her head was too much, when the world was collapsing around her. Her parents and Phil, those were her foundations. That house on Birch Street.

But Kilgrave had taken that, too. She couldn’t even think of her childhood home without picturing him there. Touching everything her parents had once owned, living in their house, sleeping in their bed. 

She felt nauseous. 

And so, so tired. 

Jessica nodded at his answer. It made sense -- those two had always been there for each other. They were a constant in the universe, like something written in the goddamn stars. If anything made her believe in love, even for a fraction of a second, it was Natasha and Clint. “One good hit was all it took?” she asked, her eyes on his. Studying his gaze, wondering how much he remembered, if it was like her, if everything he’d been forced to do was burned into his mind, vivid and realistic, the details clear while time and dates blurred together. “Lucky,” she whispered, biting her lip. 

She’d anticipated the question, the moment her own left her lips. But she didn’t know how to answer. How to admit the terrible thing she’d done, the thing that had made her mind snap free. Sometimes, she wondered if it was just timing -- if she would’ve broken free that night one way or another, because she’d been fighting his control for so long. But that dragged up the what if’s -- what if she’d fought harder? What if she had been faster, that day on the rooftop in the yellow dress? What if she hadn’t let herself have those days where she didn’t fight so hard, the Fuck All days, where she succumbed to whatever he wanted because it was easier, because she was tired, because she was weak. 

“He got hit by a bus,” she said, fingers tightening around the bottle. “For a long time, I thought that’s -- that it was just because he’d died. But he didn’t, not then. He’d survived, and when he came back, I realized... Realized it wasn’t the bus that did it. It was because of what he’d made me do.” She was facing him, but not really seeing him. Her eyes were glazed over with whiskey and memories. Reva’s hair framing her face as she flew forward, that small gasp she let out when Jessica’s fist collided with her chest. The blood on her hands when she’d touched Reva’s hair. The panic, the urge to run, and keep running, the way she’d stumbled for block after block, finally shedding the stupid coat he’d made her wear because it felt so heavy on her shoulders. 

“He made me kill someone,” she whispered, barely aware that she was speaking out loud. “Reva. Her name was Reva. I hit her, and it was like -- like time stopped. Like everything stopped. The fog in my head was -- not gone, but thinner. Fainter. Enough for me to run.” To run, and not look back. She hadn’t even checked to make sure he was dead. If she had, maybe Hope Shlottman would still be alive. Maybe everything would be different. 

Jessica rubbed the back of her neck with one hand, brought the bottle to her lips with her other. The burn of the whiskey was the only thing that felt real in that moment. That, and Clint’s presence beside her. “I’m glad you were there tonight,” she said, as clearly as she could manage. “Really. Really goddamn glad.” Because of him, she hadn’t needed to kill anyone to break free this time. She didn’t have more blood on her hands, and she would never, ever be able to repay him for that. 

AKA Mesmerized || Jessica & Clint

#clint #clint para #aka mesmerized #aka para

[akafuckyou-blog]

danteisenfuego:

“Don’t care if you take heed, if I’m honest, Jessica.” he said with an even tone as he stared at her with a sigh.

“Yea, I’m sure.” he said shortly as he tried to keep his cool. Though as the saying tend to go, you can’t keep something you never really had. “Yea, I was giving you the benefit of the doubt that’d you wouldn’t possibly come at me without knowing little more than my name and my powers. Being wrong about people is new, it feels gross. Blech. Well, considering I’m NOT the mind controller, I think it goes without saying, I don’t control how Liss thinks. I’m more than willing to clarify with her, though.” he wasn’t gonna let her try to get him fired up, because at that point, he’d leave the block a burn-mark on the city. “Yea, dude gunning for the throne-” he in sucked his teeth as she came entirely too close for his liking. “Like I said Maximus Boltagon, not too big a dude, about 5′7, dark hair, blue eyes, fucking insane, wants war on humans, so I’m sure you see why I don’t want him near the fucking queen, and to ensure he doesn’t get to her. He could already have people after her. Hell, you could be sleeper-cell or something.”

“What can I say, I’m an asshole,” she snapped. “Do that,” she muttered, half-distracted now. Her heart was pounding in her chest, mind threatening to split open right here on the street. Mind control -- god, how stupid had she been to assume Kilgrave was the only one? Main Street. What if this Maximus was in the city now? Birch Street. What if he got to Liss? Higgins Drive. What if he and Kilgrave met? Cobalt Lane. What if his powers worked where Kilgrave’s had failed? What if someone controlled her again? 

“I haven’t seen him,” she seethed, eyes snapping back to Dante. Her hands wrapped around his collar, gripping tightly. “I’m no one’s goddamn sleeper agent. No one’s. You got that?” She shook her head, like it might shake the what if’s out of her brain. “I get your goddamn point. How do you stop him?” she asked, a thread of desperation in her voice, though she tried to mask it with anger. “He’s got to have limits. He’s not goddamn god, he can’t --” She stopped, too frustrated and wired and wound up to say anything coherent. She let go of him, shook her head again. “Sorry,” she muttered.

She turned away from him, running a hand roughly through her hair. “I need a goddamn drink. You coming?” she asked, not bothering to turn back to him. 

#dante #dante: arm

[akafuckyou-blog]

@kilgrcvcx

Really? Hmm. Rather prosaic, but it’s fine.

#aka gifs #aka muse #((all you ever gave me was shame))

[akafuckyou-blog]

fe-fist:

Being on some level emotional had been a part of the way Danny had always been. He connected with people, and found himself trying to embrace the ones who had caught his attention. And Jessica fit that firmly, much to his own surprise and delight.

He allowed a small smile at her words. “I get that, I feel different when I’m around you, better, even, like I could fly or something.” He nodded as she continued. He had to admit, he felt the same. When he was with her, he wasn’t that spoiled rich boy the world saw him as, or the living weapon his mentors made him out to be, he just felt free, in the best way. He stepped a bit closer to her as he stroked her cheek gently, warming his hand with his chi in an attempt to comfort her a bit. He then looked her in the eye. “Hey, now, Jessica, I would never just walk away from you,” he promised with a earnest nod. He let out a small chuckle at her last words. “Done and done. Deal.” 

“Glad you can’t, actually,” she said, her lips almost twitching into a smile even as her eyes still burned. “That’s petty of me, but fuck it,” she breathed. She stilled as he approached her, every muscle tense, but his hand on her cheek was comforting, and she didn’t fight it. Didn’t push him away, but actually melted into his touch. Slowly. Carefully. But he was so warm, and it was so hard to fight off this feeling. This feeling she didn’t even have a name for.

His eyes met her, so bright and so blue, so eager and and so unlike her own. Christ, she wanted to believe him. Those looked like eyes you could trust. But she didn’t trust easy, never had. 

Start at the beginning, she told herself, taking a deep breath. She had to close her eyes, couldn’t look at his anymore, couldn’t stare into something that beautiful while talking about something so ugly. 

“Couple years back,” she started, voice low. “I -- I tried the hero thing. Once. Saved my neighbor from getting himself killed. It was easy, just a couple of random street thugs, but that’s when -- that’s how he found me. I impressed him, he said I was a sight to behold. He took me to a goddamn Chinese place, too, actually,” she said bitterly, jaw clenched. “But not because I wanted to. Because it’s what he wanted.” She glanced up at Danny, to ground herself. “That’s what his power was. Mind control. He could -- can make anyone do anything he wants.” She bit her lip, hard, hard enough to feel it split under her teeth, to taste blood. That grounded her, too. She wondered what Danny could feel from her now, what his powers were picking up. The guilt? The shame? Did she have anything else to offer him? Some days, she wasn’t sure.

“Eight months later, he got hit by a bus. After he made me -- her name was Reva. She had something he wanted, and when he had it, he told me to take care of her. So I hit her. Full strength. And she wasn’t like you, she --” Jessica closed her eyes, remembering Reva flying backwards, her hair framing her face, how hard she had hit the ground. The blood, when she pulled her hands back, blood she still felt staining her. “I thought it was done then, but he came back. He survived, stole an ambulance, and came back for me. Sent clients to my door, left a trail of bodies and broken goddamn people in his wake. Innocent people died, had their lives ripped apart. Because of me. Because he thought he loved me, that he and I were some kind of -- screwed up soulmates.” The words were bitter on her tongue, tasted like ash. She reached into the basket, grabbed one of the bottles at random and tore the top off with shaking hands. She turned away from Danny, took a long, long pull off the bottle.

“He made a girl murder her own parents in my elevator. To send me a message,” she spat, gripping the bottle tightly with both hands. “I tried to prove it was him, that he existed, but in the end, I couldn’t save her.” Hope’s blood was on her hands too. That day in the restaurant was burned into her mind, she could never look at wine glasses the same. “She died. But so did he. I snapped his neck with my bare hands, and I tried to live with it, tried to move on, but now...” She pulled from the bottle again, but it didn’t quell the fury in her chest. The indignation, the goddamn frustration. “Now he’s back. Again. Like a goddamn, motherfucking, piece of shit cockroach that just won’t die.” She gripped the bottle so tightly that it cracked in her hands, fell to the floor in pieces, sending glass and whiskey scattering across her floor. One more mess in her goddamn life.

Her hands were cut, she wiped them on her jeans. “Shit,” she muttered, kicking at the broken glass. She glanced at Danny, then strode to her bathroom, returned with a towel. She knelt down beside the mess, started swiping at it haphazardly. “That’s my story,” she said finally. “He’s not a dragon you or me or goddamn anyone can just slay. I’m not a goddamn hero or a warrior,” she murmured. Her hands stung, so she gave up, sat back on her feet, and glanced at him. “He can’t control me anymore. But that only makes him more dangerous for the people around me. For the people I care about,” she said, hoping he understood. “You should walk away. Before you get caught up in it. Kilgrave doesn’t like competition much.” 

#danny #danny: valentines day #[again i apologize] #[just always] #trigger warning: violence #trigger warning: murder #trigger warning: kilgrave shit

[akafuckyou-blog]

take me to church - hozier | lyric typography 6/?

#aka muse #ft. danny #[i need a tag for them tbh]

[akafuckyou-blog]

redheadliss:

She hated the way Jessica went silent for a second, clearly taking in the fact that Liss herself had powers, sh had heard about the other registering, and there had been mentions of her strength before between them, but the younger never really cared, powers or not she cared for the brunette. Waiting, Liss let herself dry off, hair going from a deep crimson to its usual scarlet as it dried, but then her words made the girls head snap up, shaking her head, “I was six, when it happened, all I remember is watching my parents die trying to protect me, watching my village burn to the ground before I ran. If I was a princess or whatever, why didn’t they save my parents?! Why didn’t anyone come for me before now?!” Words were flowing before Liss knew how to stop them, tears pricking at her usually bright eyes at the memories.  “And the hair thing…it’s stupid, stupid power, stupid color, not like I’m any real threat to anyone with it.” Listening, the girl shrugged, she knew what Jessica was implying by her questions about Dante, she had heard the stories about Kilgrave and what he had done to the girl, and she understood the concern but it wasn’t like that, was it? Liss sighed, pushing hair off her face before giving a shrug, “Dante Per…Pertuz? I think. Inferno, he goes by Inferno.” A tiny laugh left her lips, “Even his powers are better than mine, how they think I’m meant to be a Queen I don’t know!” It was mumbled, but she was sure Jessica could hear anyway. “He never said I couldn’t go home, just it was safer at his place, I get that, my apartment is shitty, the lock on the front door doesn’t even work, you know that. I mean…he gave up his bed for me, second night I was there, apparently he didn’t want me breaking anything else in his living room, you know how I get” Jessica had experienced first hand the chaos that Liss’ nightmares could induce, it was why the girl thought she knew about her powers, how anybody could miss the strands of hair destroying her things was a miracle for sure. “I..haven’t told anyone else, but he seems to care, Jessica, he really seems to want me safe.”

Jessica was really lacking in the ‘make people feel better’ department. She’d never been good at that shit, and when she saw tears spring to Liss’ eyes, her first instinct was to run. It was only affection for the younger girl that kept her holding her ground, though she had to force herself not to bolt. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly, her voice softer than usual. She buried her sharp edges under concern for a moment, let herself actually be worried about the girl in front of her. “I don’t know, Liss, I don’t. I wasn’t there, and neither were you, and I’m not a fan of that ‘shit happens for a reason’ bullshit, but... I don’t know. Maybe I can look into it. Get you some answers,” she said, latching onto the one thing she could do. She sighed lightly. “Stop that,” she said firmly, reaching out her hand slowly. She placed it on Liss’ shoulder, gave her a gentle squeeze. “Comparing your powers to other people is only gonna make you feel like shit. Trust me on that one,” she said, speaking from experience. How many times had she wished she could actually fly? That she was a little stronger, a little faster, a little more of a goddamn hero. “You have what you have. Work with it. Besides,  you don’t need powers to be a goddamn threat to people,” she said. Her eyes flicked to the girl’s hair with a newfound appreciation. “And it is a pretty rad color, so knock that shit off. I’m the queen of self-loathing, don’t try and take my shit,” she said, joking feebly to try and bring back that smile Liss had.

She pulled her hand back while Liss spoke about Dante. “Ah,” she said, a faint memory coming back to her now. “Flaming Freak of the Week. I know him,” she said, nodding. She sighed again. “I’m still gonna talk to him. He can’t tell you what to do and what not to do, whatever his goddamn intentions,” she said sharply. Kilgrave had always made that claim to -- that he was doing things for her, doing what she wanted. She remembered spitting it at him, It doesn’t matter what you were trying to do, you -- she shook her head, cutting off the memory. “I just wanna make sure he’s actually looking out for you. And not just himself, or his kingdom, or what the fuck ever. I can find you someplace to stay, someplace with a lock on the door, if that’s what you want. That’s what matters here, Liss. What you want,” she reminded her, the words heavy and important.

#liss #liss: dip

[akafuckyou-blog]

teddork:

“MUST’VE done some really heinous shit in that past life. like push little old ladies over in crosswalks or tied cat’s tails together. karma— she’s the bitch who’ll getcha every time.” 

“Must have,” Jessica breathed. The random voice was actually helpful, pulled her back to reality, though she couldn’t help but stare at him. Trying to make sure he was actually real. “No shit,” she muttered, though if she had to place money on it, Karma was getting her back for the shit she did in this lifetime. “You -- you lingering outside my building for a goddamn reason, or you just bored?” she asked, a little more sharply than she meant. 

#ted #ted: karma

[akafuckyou-blog]

devilishmask:

IT’S NICE to hear Claire isn’t upset with him. “That’s ENOUGH SHARING on my part!!” Matt says, trying to joke about it.

She rolls her eyes, but she can understand that sentiment. “Fair enough, Murdock. This is why I never share goddamn anything,” she says with a smirk. She shoves her hands into her pockets, shrugs. “I got a case I gotta actually put some time on anyway,” she says, starting off. “I’ll see ya around, lawyer boy. Was that insensitive? Ah, well. Fuck it.” 

#matt #matt: civil suits

[akafuckyou-blog]

cheeseitted:

“YEAH, i mean it’s not like i am showing anything offensive? plus i haven’t seen a single person who works here yet, so i think this was the best option.” 

“Fair enough. Never struck me as fair though,” she quipped, amused by his antics. “That you can be shirtless in public and I can’t. Double goddamn standards.” She eyed the shirt he had half-on. “Not your color, by the way. Not that I’m an expert in this shit. But orange doesn’t look good on goddamn anyone.” 

#booster #booster: dressing room

[akafuckyou-blog]

alexeithered:

“NOT HERE.” They are already EXPOSED. Alexei may be acting DELIBERATELY unhelpful. He shrugs. “MY PLACE or YOURS??” She may slap him, but PERHAPS that will PUSH her away. IF NOT, the CONVERSATION will wait.

HE won’t say very MUCH out in the open. “Yes.”

She gives him a look, eyes narrow. But the yes is all she needs to push her irritation to one side. “Yours, my place is miles off, and I’m not eager to get on another subway with you,” she says pointedly. She gestures down the alley. “Lead the way, friend.” It was a start, anyway.

#alexei #alexei: celebrity

[akafuckyou-blog]

defendermagnet:

Claire grimaced. “She’s not black and blue…” She’s more purple, Claire didn’t say.

Already being in the middle of it, she just gave up. “Hey, she gives me stuff. Wine, once. It was pretty good.” Mostly, Claire was just in this business so people like Jessica and Trish could walk out of her apartment on the mend. Getting paid for it—or getting a gift—made Claire a little uncomfortable.

“Something tells me you already know how that conversation’s gonna go, Jessica,” Claire pointed out, trying not to smile. It wasn’t funny (only, it was). “Am I close?”

“You were supposed to say ‘no she doesn’t have broken bones,’” Jessica said, the frown deepening. She pulled out her phone, intending to text her sister that second, but it was dead as usual. She stowed it away with a groan. “And yeah, she’s always had good taste in wine. Doesn’t send me any, for some reason,” she murmured. “Still. You deserve some kinda medal, Temple. Along with the wine.”

She glanced back up at Claire, fighting off her own smirk. “Yeah, yeah, you’re super nurse, you know goddamn everything,” she said, sighing lightly. “It never goes well, but I keep banging my head against the goddamn brick wall. Got a cure for that?” 

#claire #claire: fill me in

[akafuckyou-blog]

luckythief:

She overstepped. The question went unanswered—it didn’t really matter. Jessica was the detective, the one who pursued clues and trails and secrets, but Felicia was the thief. The one that searched for answers, keys, every way in to every kind of lock that she came across. The beat stretched between them, awkwardly, until Jessica broke the silence, clearly deflecting.

Felicia never liked overstepping. Unintentionally, that is.

“Any advice?” Felicia asked, lightly. “The Spider isn’t that helpful with the how-to guides.”

Jessica offered the other woman a weak smirk, resting the bottle on her knee. “You know Spiderman? That’s pretty wicked. I met the former Spiderwoman once,” she quipped, remembering the less-than-pleasant interaction. But she’d gotten a sort-of friend out of it. Stranger things had happened, she guessed.

She rocked the bottle back and forth on her knee. “Like I said, I’m no expert on this shit,” she said, shrugging. “I don’t think there is a how-to guide. You gotta... just do what’s right by you,” she said slowly, nodding towards Felicia. “Stand up for the people who can’t do it themselves. Use what you got. Occasionally, let yourself give a damn,” she said, a small, genuine smile crossing her face. Her eyes flicked to Felicia’s. “You’ve got a good head on your shoulders. Use it. You’ll be fine,” she said, actually believing it. 

#felicia #felicia: runway