#legit had the alarm set | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

her-satanic-wiles · 6 months

Text

October 29th

Breathplay, Swiss x Reader

Masterlist

Words: 4.2k.

Warnings: Breathplay; choking; Ghoul!Reader; public beginning; semi-public ending; public dry humping; dubcon; listen, I can’t help myself, okay?; they get real fucking awkward someone slap ‘em; finger sucking; fingering; squirting; positive degradation (took me 29 days but we got there in the end); possessive (if you squint); dacrophilia; unprotected sex; piv; vaginal sex; I went feral lmao; spit kink; cock warming;

Taglist: @sodoswitchimage @enchantedbunny @bitchywitchygardener @thew0man @sodomiser @the-did-i-ask @copias-sewer-rat @gehrmansbignaturals @deetz-ghuleh @onlyhereforghost @zombiesnips-blog @saturnhas82moons

Author's Note: Major thanks to @da-rulah for giving me this idea, like legit, this was all her idea. She’s the organ grinder, I’m just the monkey. Inspired by… recent events.

Recommended listening: Hypnosis by Sleep Token.

🔞 MDNI 🔞

It started with Dewdrop.

You danced on your podium stage, the roar of the crowd echoing in your ears as Watcher In The Sky droned on. The blinding spotlight followed your every move as you took your place behind the microphone, a sea of faces stretching out before you. The anticipation in the air was electric, and you could feel the bass thumping through the stage floor, matching the rhythm of your racing heart.

From the corner of your eye, underneath the mask, you saw him charging towards Dew at an alarming rate, his broad shoulders tense and fists clenched. It didn’t register fully until you got a good view of his body, and then you realised it was Swiss. Swiss was usually feral during this song - you’d seen clips of him online afterwards if you’d missed it during the concert. But usually he kept his insanity to his corner of the stage. Not tonight, though. Tonight he was gunning for the source of his anguish - tonight he was racing towards Dewdrop and his guitar that was loudly whining in everyone’s ears.

The first time it happened, it was just a scream. Well, a scream and a bite, but it wasn’t anything more than that. Harmless, really… even though it did set you on edge. There was something equally thrilling yet terrifying about seeing this big, burly man, who was usually the sweetest guy, angrily charge at someone so small in comparison; but also knowing that he had gained the confidence to wander around. You weren’t forbidden to leave your individual stages per se, but Papa did prefer it if you stayed in your place.

This was also amongst all the things he was doing with the other Ghouls - namely with Aurora. The way he got on his knees for her every time Cirice played, every time he pretended to pleasure her, sent shockwave after shockwave through your body. And the night they kissed? You felt the green-eyed-monster make an ugly appearance, and wished that was you.

The next time it happened, things got a little more… heated. His strong hands wrapped themselves around Dew, engulfing his entire hip and front. His large frame dwarfed the Ghoul in comparison and completely hid him from your view. You couldn’t see what Swiss was doing to him, but judging by the repetitive movements his arm and shoulder were doing you could easily come to a general conclusion.

The third night was worse… so. Much. Worse. You watched as Swiss wrapped his large hand around Dew’s neck, gently choking him while imitating jerking himself off. It definitely shouldn’t have done things to you. It definitely shouldn’t have made you think the things you did. It was just two guys playing around on stage… sure their game got a little sexual, but there was no harm done and the crowd certainly enjoyed it. That night though, as he was walking away, he made eye contact with you and caught your mouth agape. That night, he decided he was going to come and hang out with you for a few songs.

The next day, as you were putting your uniform on and painting your face the typical Ghoul style, a knock wrapped at your door. “Come in!” You shouted. Your body froze when Swiss walked through the door.

“Hey, loser.” He teased as he usually did, leaning up against the door frame. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing his gorgeous forearms that were crossed against the broad expanse of his chest - and you weren’t at all staring at the way that position pushed his breasts together to create a tempting amount of cleavage, visible only by the crease of his shirts. The leg he wasn’t resting on had also crossed over his body, and stabled him a little more by the toe of his boots.

You cleared your throat and looked back to the mirror, picking up your black paint box and scooping more up onto your finger. “Hey, loser. Did you not have anything better to do than watch me get ready?”

He tutted. “Now, can’t a guy come and visit his favourite Ghoul before a concert for a little conversation? What if I was Rain, hm?”

“Well, if you were Rain then I’d be much kinder. But you’re you. You want something. Spill.”

He sighed. “Fine,” he raised his hands in defeat, “you got me. How’s about we play a little game on stage tonight?” He walked over to you and stood behind your chair, looking at you in the mirror. His hands rested on your shoulders and gave you a little rub.

“What did you have in mind?”

“I’ll choke you instead of Dew.”

You tried not to react in any incriminating way - this was Swiss you were talking to. If he saw a flicker of anything besides absolute disdain or unbothered attutitudes, he’d rib you for the rest of time. You swallowed, and continued applying your paints. “Why me? The crowd loves that gay shit and what you do to Dew. Hell, they love what you do to Aurora, too.”

“Yes, but,” he leaned down so his mouth was level with your ear, his deep voice dropping low, “you love it, too, don’t you?” You froze. “I’ve caught your face. You’re not as sneaky as you think you are, you know?” He stood back upright. “Unless you actively stop me, I’m going to play with you tonight. Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Silence.

He tapped your shoulder and walked out of your dressing room. “See you tonight!”

You stepped onto the stage that night, the bright lights momentarily blinding you. The roar of the crowd echoed through the arena as the music began.Your thoughts kept drifting to Swiss—and whatever the hell it was that he had planned.

Swiss stood there, his presence commanding and his voice a captivating force. His every move seemed to draw you in, and you found it hard to concentrate on your own performance. The lyrics you were supposed to sing became a blur as you watched him, transfixed by his talent and charisma.

You tried to focus on your harmonies and choreography, but Swiss’s magnetic presence was an irresistible distraction. Every time your eyes met his, a spark of connection passed between you, intensifying the infatuation that had taken hold of your heart.

The familiar darkness of Cirice screamed through your in-ears, and you looked back over to Swiss’ podium but he was missing. Nowhere to be found. Given your conversation earlier, and his habit of going feral during Watcher in the Sky, you assumed he would do something then. It wasn’t until you felt his hands around your neck you realised he had other intentions. His fingers clasped your neck as the intro reached its pace change, the tips of each appendage falling onto your throat seductively, as though he were drumming on a desk and using his thumb as an anchor. You felt his helmet connect with yours and his body press up against your back. The longer he stayed there, hands attached to your throat, the tighter they held, squeezing the sides of your esophogus like an anaconda about to feed. Of course, he didn’t restrict your air flow. Of course, his hands tightened in all the correct places that made you feel lightheaded without damaging your body.

Of course he knew how to do that.

You couldn’t hear anything, or take in what else was going on. Your mind was consumed by his hand, and now something else pressing into your hip you didn’t expect to come out and play. The feeling of your pulse quicken sent shockwaves through Swiss’ body upon the realisation that you enjoyed this. You liked feeling his hand around your throat. You liked how hard he was squeezing. He placed his other hand on your hip and, clearly thinking only with his dick, rutted into you. The first time was an accident, he told himself. The second, third and even fourth time was because you felt so good against him, he couldn’t help himself. It wasn’t until he heard Papa singing the opening lyric, he remembered where he was, and that you both had to stop. So, he pulled away, and rushed back to his own stage.

After the adrenaline of the concert had faded, you found yourself back in your hotel room, still buzzing with the memory of Swiss’s hands haunting your mind, and you swore you could still feel his fingers ghosting your skin. As you tried to unwind, there was a sudden knock on your hotel room door.

Startled, you crossed the room and opened the door to find Swiss standing there, his expression a mix of nervousness and determination. He had sought you out, and it was clear he wanted to talk.

“Hey,” he began, his voice a little uncertain. “I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened tonight. I-”

“Come in.” You said, opening your door wider and allowing him to enter.

“Thank you. I just wanted to apologise for crossing a line tonight.” You closed the door behind him. “I don’t know what happened. I don’t have any excuses. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologise, I-”

“I crossed boundaries, I really-”

“I liked it!” The words spilled out of your mouth, revealing a depth of feeling you hadn’t intended to share just yet. Swiss’s surprise was evident, but his expression softened with understanding, and a hint of a smile played at the corners of his lips.

He took a step closer, his eyes searching yours for sincerity. “I… I didn’t realize,” he began, his voice laced with a touch of vulnerability. “Where do we go from here, exactly?”

To hell with it, you thought. The damage had already been done, you might as well just rip off the bandaid and get it over with. “You could do it again.”

“N-now?”

“If you want…”

“No, I want… to.” He swallowed. The man in front of you was now so far from the Swiss you knew. His confidence was… somewhere in the room. But nowhere near him at the present. A tinge of excitement mixed with the nervousness in Swiss’s eyes as he contemplated the idea of doing it again. It was a leap into uncharted territory for both of you, a risky move that could either cement your connection or create an irreparable divide. Yet, the allure of it was too strong to resist. “Can I kiss you?”

Your voice came out breathier than usual - breathier than it ought to be. “Yes.”

Swiss finally closed the gap, his lips touching yours softly at first, not wanting to let loose too quickly and scare you away. He’d already crossed multiple boundaries today, he couldn’t bring himself to cross another. His hands came to your biceps, thumbs rubbing over the clothed skin in a comforting up and down motion. It wasn’t until you’d decided you were ready for something more that he finally let up.

Still in his uniform, you grasped onto his collar and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss and earning a little grunt in response from him. His left hand travelled upwards as your tongue gained access to his mouth, and eventually you felt his bare palm over your neck, thick fingers gently squeezing at the sides. You whimpered into his mouth, the sound so delicious on his tongue and reverberating in his ears, sending blood rushing south. That one sound did things to him he had never imagined. That one sound made him vow that you were going to cum around his cock tonight, with his hand wrapped around your throat.

He broke the kiss to torment you further, as if his actions on stage the last few days hadn’t been enough. As he spoke, his hand remained on your throat, and his voice was barely above a whisper. “You’re enjoying this aren’t you? I can feel your shakes of excitement. Those moans. The light in your eyes.”

“Please.” You said. As he squeezed at the sides, you could feel the restriction but not enough to cut of air supply entirely. Your head felt light and dreamy, eyes hooded with lust, hands grasping onto his forearms tightly to help you steady yourself. You begged, for what you couldn’t say. Maybe it was just force of habit; maybe it was your brain telling you to say it because he liked it; or maybe you wanted him to do unspeakable things to you while his fingers threatened to close your airways. A delirious smile painted on your face as though you were descending into madness the longer he touched you. His hand on your throat wasn’t enough for you. You imagined his other hand between your legs, dipped into your cunt. You wanted his fingers to violate you, roughly penetrate your walls and hit that spot hard over and over until you were screaming out for him.

Regardless, he approved, confirming this with a hum, voice so low it sounded like a tiger’s purr. “Please what? Use your words, tell me what you want.”

“Your hands.”

“My hands, hm? Doing what?”

“Touch me.”

He ghosted his lips over yours. “I am touching you.”

You took his free hand into yours and guided it to your waistband, dipping it below the fabric and hovering above your core, already wet and ready for him. “Here, too.”

“Greedy pup. No, baby. If I’m going to touch you, I’m going to do it properly.” He removed contact from you completely and took a step back. “Undress yourself.” You watched him remove the watch from his wrist, eyes fixated on his hands. “So desperate to have me touch you. Come on, baby. Don’t make me ask you again.”

You nodded dumbly, slowly removing items from your body until you stood bare in front of him. Swiss, in that time, had been removing his own clothes, except he was left only in his underwear. He placed one final kiss against your lips, feather-light and leaving you wanting, but still grateful for the attention. “On the bed, sweet baby. Spread your legs for me.” He instructed.

You followed his orders like a soldier to their commanding officer, eagerly hopping on the bed and exposing yourself to him. Where the confidence came from, you couldn’t say. In a normal situation, you’d be much more modest or tasteful with your movements, hesitant to expose yourself so readily. But there was something about Swiss’ commanding demeanor, his authoritative aura that had the hairs on your body stand on end, electrified in anticipation of what was to come. He had you wrapped around his little finger so quickly, it should have scared you. You weren’t one to easily submit. Yet you watched him climb over your body with hunger in your eyes, and mischief in his. You zealously sucked on his thick, middle fingers when he placed them in your mouth, and shivered when you felt them prod at your sopping entrance.

His digits met no resistance as they breached your walls, tapping the secret button inside that made your mouth fall open in complete pleasure. The squelch of your juices drowned out your little whimpers, and sped up as his tempo became more and more vigorous. Your body shook with the ferocity of his movements, and your fingers clutched onto the bedsheets to divert the energy from your mouth and cope with the overwhelming feeling boiling up inside you. You had to remind yourself of your location, that you were sharing a wall with a colleague and that you couldn’t be too loud; but Swiss simply tutted.

“Am I not making you feel good?”

You had to force air back into your lungs. “You are!”

“Then why can’t I hear you?”

“I-” You didn’t know what to say.

“Let me hear those slutty little moans, baby. Or I’ll stop.”

“No! Don’t stop, please don’t!”

“Then,” as he moved his fingers inside you, his other hand came to your throat, “be loud for me. And play with your clit.”

At the feeling of him restricting your esophagus again, combined with both of your hands working in tandem with each other, you had begun to reach heights you’d never been able to achieve with another person, even yourself. There were times when you were in the throes of touching yourself, when your own hand was desperately working yourself to orgasm, that you’d choke yourself in order to feel the ecstasy you were begging for. But it wasn’t quite the same - it never was. Yet now, your finger was frantically rubbing over yourself as your other hand moved from the bed sheets to clutch around his wrist as it gripped tightly to your neck, deliciously sending you back into that state of delirium.

Swiss knelt in between your legs, allowing your hips to buck wildly. His eyes were fixated on your face, cock hardening at the sight of you. Your eyes were rolling back into your skull, your mouth hanging open as if you were possessed. You were one tongue and a few tears away from a perfect ahegao, but there was still time. He’d make sure of it.

“Swiss!” You called out helplessly from below him, weak, vulnerable, half-crazy with the feelings he was making your body feel. He couldn’t deny just how delicious his name sounded coming from your swollen lips, oozing with need and desperation. Your mind was completely his; your body gifted to him willingly in your need to be choked and dominated. His name was the only thing you’d remember while he had you under his touch - under his fist. “G-gonna cum!”

“Yeah?” His voice was a little higher pitched, condescending. “Is my perfect girl gonna cum all over my fingers, hm?”

“Yes! Yes! Lucifer, yes!”

“No, no, no. Not on my watch, baby girl. Lucifer can’t make you feel this good. Who is?”

“You are!”

“Say my fucking name.”

“Swiss! Fuck! Cum-cumming!”

Vesuvius had nothing on your eruption. He paled in comparison to the earth-shattering explosion that set off inside you, and forced its way out without your knowledge. You poured yourself all over him, bathing him in your sacred water while your throat screamed bloody-murder beneath his hand. Fingernails dug into his skin as your body shook, cunt clenching tightly around him. Your vision, when you were able to think coherently again, was black in the corners from the intensity of your orgasm. As your orgasm subsided, Swiss’ hand pulled out of you and took over from yours, gently rubbing circles into your clit and making your body clench with little pockets of sensitive aftershocks. He wouldn’t stop until you told him to, and those words weren’t falling from your lips so he continued his ministrations, working you into over-sensitivity, gradually picking up the pace until his fingers were ferociously working you up towards a second orgasm; and you, the ever-willing recipient to his torture, accepted those gifts graciously, desperately calling his name as your mind went dumb from the pleasure.

Tears were falling from your eyes this time, and you clenched around nothing when you felt his broad tongue lick them from your face. All the while, his hand never left your throat.

His cock was girthy - average length but thick, and it met no resistance as it slid into you. His thigh hooked under your knee and lifted your leg further up the bed, allowing yourself to open up even more to him, and granting him the ability to bury himself all the way inside you, only stopping when there was nothing more to give. Every single one of your nerve-endings were standing on edge, holding matches to light the third fuse of the evening and preparing to hurt you in all the best ways. Swiss’ hand was on your throat, applying a similar amount of pressure as before while forcing your head in place to keep eye contact with him as he bottomed out. The drag of him against your walls, stretching you, filling you, was exquisite. His eyes, burning hotter than embers bore into your own, creating a depraved yet intimate moment as he geared up to fuck you into the mattress.

“Oh that’s fucking it, baby girl.” He moaned out in pleasure above you, savouring the tightness he’d buried himself inside. He removed the pressure from your neck to allow you some respite, but he kept it there to remind you of his intentions. “Fucking hell. If I’d known your cunt was this good I’d have taken you much sooner.” He began to thrust into you, resting most of his weight onto his other hand. His pubic mound rubbed against your clit, hairs tickling you and providing a small amount of stimulation. “This pussy was Hell-sent just for me, wasn’t it? Shit. So fucking perfect. You open up so well for me. So fucking wet for me, shit!”

He picked up speed. “Fucking ruining me. Why would I fuck another slut when I’ve got you, hm? So willing, and pliant,” he applied pressure again and watched your eyes light up, “and freaky. Oh shit!”

He was speechless for a while, focussing on the sound of your cunt swallowing him over and over again, squelching for him in appreciation of his hard work. He looked down to watch the cream of your pussy gathering around the base of his cock - well, all of it that wasn’t streaming down your folds and gathering on the sheets below you. So fucking tight and wet for him. He’d never been with anyone quite like you. The way your pussy opened up for him, the tears you were crying because of him, your screams of ecstasy. It was almost too much.

“Open up for me, baby girl.” He told you, and once you obliged, a string of his saliva dripped from his mouth into yours. He was laying claim to you wherever he could and groaned deeply when he felt you clench around him, becoming impossibly tighter. “Fucking hell - you loved that didn’t you? My beautiful, dirty whore. Touch yourself for me again.”

Your hand snaked down between your bodies to rub at your clit again, harshly and quickly stroking yourself in desperation of your third orgasm. You could tell that he wasn’t far off himself, erratic thrusts announcing how close he was. All the while, you were mewling beneath him - screaming for him. The drag of his cock against your walls, working alongside the tightness of his hand around your throat intermittently squeezing, was pulling you ever closer to the edge of euphoria. Just a little more and you’d fall - a little more and you’d be free.

“Swiss!” You shouted his name repeatedly, begging him over and over.

“I know, baby. I know. Keep going for me, that’s it. Fucking shit. I’m never gonna stop fucking this pussy. Where can I cum? Please tell me I can cum inside you.”

“Yes! I want it inside me. Give it to me, please!”

“Oh fuck! I couldn’t stop if you said no, baby. Can’t pull out. Too. Fucking. Good.” Each word was punctuated with a particularly hard thrust that sent your body up the bed a little. “You gonna cum, hm? Gonna cum on this goddamn dick?”

“Yes! Fuck, Swiss! You’re gonna make me cum!”

“Do it, baby. Cum for me.”

He tightened his grip one final time, keeping his pace while you kept yours. Your third orgasm was violent in all the best ways. Your vision was the first to go, eyes glazing over and rolling back as drool poured from your open mouth. Your hands cramped where they sat, digging your fingernails into his strong arm while rubbing your clit to completion with the other. Your back arched, your lungs refused to fill with air. Your voice was silent as your body convulsed in pure, unbridled pleasure while your mind swam with delirium from the subtle air restriction.

“There we go, baby girl. That’s it. Fuck - I’m g-gonna cum in this tight fucking cunt. Shit!”

Swiss came next, his seed pouring deep inside of you and painting your walls white. After your third orgasm, he selfishly chased his own, temporarily using you as a toy to tip himself over the edge and meet you in your euphoria.

Your hearts were racing from the adrenaline of the moment you’d just shared. Swiss could hear yours as he collapsed on your chest, his cock softening inside of you. You were both too tired to move, too sensitive to feel the cold. He wrapped your leg over his hip and rolled off you, hands and your leg pulling you with him. As soon as you both made eye contact again, his lips met yours in a desperate and needy kiss. This one, however, wasn’t intended to get you both riled up again ready for a second round, though, the longer your lips were attached and your hands roamed over his body, you could feel him chubbing up inside you. “You’re fucking incredible, you know that?” You whispered. “Thank you.”

Swiss chuckled. “I know, but it’s always nice to be reminded.” Another kiss, but this time your hand gripped onto his hair and pulled a little. “Don’t fucking do that or I’ll have to fuck you harder.”

You tugged again.

“___.” He warned.

You didn’t heed it and pulled one final time.

“Right,” he pulled out of you and flipped you on your stomach, “remember, you asked for this.”

Previous Day ⛧ Next Day

344 notes · View notes

icarustypicalfall · 4 months

Text

Cod men in a mall??

I am bored, so i am shoving all of them in a mall. This is supposed to be funny, idk man.

Silly drabbles for TF141, Vaqueros, phil and könig.

warnings: none! fluff :) proofread but might contain some faults

credit to owner for the divider I don't know to who it belongs!!

masterpost • AO3

Ghost

He didn't want to go.

After giving him the cutest puppy eyes he said yes.

"I don't want to spend three hours in makeup stores"

He gave you the Ultimest glare as you passed by the shop in question.

Ended looking around for perfumes and breaking one by accident.

The employee was too scared to confront him.

You tried to convince him into buying an green hoodie with cat ears.

*typical ghost glare*

Was happy when they said they didn't have his size.

Now imagine him wearing the same sweater, looking like a crop top on him while you took pics.

Never went to the mall with you again

"no chance not going"

(he said yes lol)

John Price

Spent good five minutes fighting with an employee over the way a cuppa should be made.

You tried on multiple bucket hats and took pics. He was grinning the whole time. :(

"John, do you think I can buy this mall?"

"Absolutely not Love."

He'd buy it for you if you asked, though.

You thrifted together some vintage sweaters and wore them over hot drinks, the same night.

He is the sanest of them all. (optional)

Gaz :)

He needed to restock, so you went to the mall.

You wanted to sit in the cart, and so did he.

Both of you sat in the cart, ended bumping in the vegetable section and kicked out.

You can't go there together anymore.

For the rest of the afternoon, you ate ice cream and threw a coin in the Fontaine

"Nah but seriously, love, I'd go into that bloody pool and collect all the money. A legit fortune for us, yeah?"

Soap Johnny Mactavish

He wanted to get a weighted blanket, considering the cold weather in the base.

He jokingly wrapped you in it.

You couldn't move and looked like a worm.

"Ya look funny, lassie. Liile worm, go.."

Soap wrapped himself in a weighted blanket as well and you made a race on who'll reach the paying section first. The owners wasn't very happy.

You took pictures in a photobooth, you frowned in annoyance at the first set, with Soap giving you bunny ears behind your back.

Although, it was cute.

That.. until a raccon randomly barged in. The astonishment was priceless and the pictures remain in your wallets.

Soap begged to keep the raccoon.

(It bit him.)

Alejandro Vargas

He wanted to buy you something special.

He didn't mind the price, while your eyes lagged at the series of zeros in the tag.

He shoved everything your eyes laid on in the basquet, calling it a day.

You had to hold him or else he'd buy the whole section.

He ended surprising you with a bracelet, one you always gazed at whenever you came.

He shushed you before you even open your mouth, smiling.

"nonono cariño, no thanks, i am all yours."

:')

Rudy Parra

Sweet boy just wanted to buy a book.

He heard about a certain section in the library and wanted to check it out with you.

(you see where this is going)

You both chose a book, thinking the cute cover was a projection of what lays on the papers.

Wrong.

Two words in, you gazed at each other, put the book on the shelf and went to get a film.

You never entered that section again.

Aside from this, you had so much fun chosing each other fits and trying them on.

Phillip Graves

He is a proud American, of course.

Having his alarm as the national Anthem and riding to the sun with the eagle on his shoulder.

Anyway..

Phil practically begged you to get a certain pyjama, red white and blue to match his own.

He took your no to heart and gave you a cold shoulder (for five minutes only, he trailed afterwards on your feet like a lost puppy.)

He kept a hand around your waist, glaring at men who's gaze lingered on you.

"Eh darlin, there is no point in buying new sweaters, mine are yours. It suits you perfectly, beautiful!"

könig

He wanted new pants, and your opinion, so you went together.

And meanwhile you might think this is an easy task, allow me to say "NUH UH"

Have you seen this man?

He tried a pair of cargo pants, claiming it is his size.

Two steps in, the material ripped apart.

He took it off and, ever so calmly, he returned it in the back of the pile, as if nothing happened.

You left the store, and he uttered, pulling you to his side for warmth

"It's alright, not the first time, Maus.. They should make pants more stretchy, ja?"

#𓆩♡𓆪 faith writes #call of duty #cod incorrect quotes #141 headcanons #cod headcanons #ghost cod #rudy cod #call of duty headcanons #call of duty fanfic #task force 141 #soap cod #cod john price #gaz cod #cod philip graves #könig cod #cod meme #cod fluff

137 notes · View notes

tellodona · 4 months

Note

Imagine the brothers with and mc who's comfortable sitting in the most random positions ever. Like sitting upside down on the couch, curled up really tightly on a chair- do you vision what I'm visioning?? Yeah anyways I feel like demons aren't as flexible has humans and so they'd just be really freaking confused like how??

I thought of this really randomly so yk hopenhave fun with it!! <3

- Sky

i've always had this headcanon after seeing a fic about it ! where the demons and angels aren't as flexible as humans

time to traumatize some demons

the brothers when mc sits in a bone-cracking (for them) position

heads up: gn!mc

lucifer

the both of you were hanging out in his study whilst he works

he excuses himself to get a glass of water

leaves you sitting upside down on one of the sofas, your legs up and your head dangling over at the edge, but he didn't think much of it at first

he comes back to see you bending over the sofa's backrest, your upper body behind it and your lower body facing him

he pales

slightly maybe

he places down the glass on the coffee table, and walked around the sofa, and you tilt your head up at him

"oh, hey lucifer"

mc?????????

you didn't look like you were in any pain, but still

he left you alone and just sat and worked again on his desk, sparing you a glance every now and then

you were trying out more positions that he's trying so hard to fight a grimace

he swears he feels a phantom ache somewhere on his back

mammon

the both of you were in his room (he dragged you there as soon as you got changed when you got home from rad)

you were laying on his couch, him sitting there too, and your legs over his lap

both of you were on your phones

the more focused on your phone you were, your legs somehow get raised into the air

he doesn't even notice it either

it was then ten minutes later he realizes the weight on his lap was gone, so he turns to his right to see you still there

but your legs bent all the way to your head

he jaw drops

he pulls at your legs, pulling them down back on his lap

"what the hell do you think you were doin', huh?!"

you don't even know

you just stare at each other

leviathan

listen, i know, we're going to be expecting you and levi to be playing games, don't come at me

anyway

you were sitting on the floor with him in front of his monitor, playing god knows what (you didn't understand him because he said the name too quickly)

you were sitting in indian seat, which didn't set any alarms in his head at first, since he's sitting like that too

but then you did this pose to get a good look at the monitor

i legit don't know how to describe it, so google came in clutch

levi looked at you with a grimace and worry

"mc... is that comfortable? or..."

you sit up straight and put your attention to him

"is what comfortable?"

he never got to answer because his character died

satan

he invited you to his room to show you books he recently bought

you were interested in one of the genres, and he pointed out a stack somewhere with the same ones

you went over and looked over the titles and found the one at the bottom sounding interesting

you did a split to slide to the bottom to get it

satan GAPED

and when you stood up just as casually he stared at you with his jaw still open

"uhm. there's a fly going inside your mouth"

"oh"

asmodeus

he read something about yoga in an article from the human world

so he's been curious about it so he asked you to show him what it is

he asked for something that doesn't need standing too much, and you coincidentally was already sitting on his bed

so you delivered

this pose

he gasped

"m- mc, dear! you're breaking your bones!"

"...but you were asking about yoga poses..."

"i will never ask again! sit up straight! sit properly! hurry! your beautiful legs!"

beelzebub

you both were exercising

but then you had to tie your shoe

he was about to offer to tie them for you, but then you sat down and bent all the way down to reach your shoes

he was horrified

"mc!!!!!"

he picks you up and straightens your body out

"mc! y- you could've broken your bones! are you okay????"

"i was just tying my shoe..."

yeah he'll be carrying you home on his shoulder

belphegor

you were sleeping in the attic

he had to go back to his room to get his favorite pillow

when he returns, he sees your body twisted around

his jaw drops 2.0

he approaches you, hovering his hands over your body, unsure of what to do

you didn't look like you were in any discomfort, but then again, you were asleep...

but then you moved on your own to sleep on your side, your body not horrifically twisted

he's still unsure

he just cuddles into you, subtly feeling for any broken bones and just sleeps on his worries

(he forgot humans were flexible)

I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I WAS SO BUSY

i'm also sorry this is bland af......

#they dont know what to do #human are you okay <- them probably #omswd #obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor

57 notes · View notes

lara635kookie · 7 months

Text

Ship Analysis pt.8:

I think this image summarizes my thoughts to why Red Crackle and Carmivy are better than Carulia(for me):

Gray and Carmen are light and darkness, yin and yang, perfect balance, soulmates, opposites attract, different but same and I just have it in me as a headcanon the impression that Chief is a Red Crackle shipper. For me, she's the president of the Red Crackle fan club. She says Gray is a smitten sap for Carmen(In the Portuguese and Spanish dub she legit says he's a fool/idiot in love) and when talking about Carmen and Gray having coffee together she says Carmen and Calloway are, makes a pause, like she's thinking on what to say next, and says "friendly", in a different voice tone than before. I think she knows.

Carmivy while is not my favorite ship, it's almost as great as Red Crackle for me. They are just so good! Ivy is such a simp going "I will beat you up if you say anything to upset Carmen" to Zack or "We're here for Carmen" to Shadowsan. Or asking herself multiple times what would Carmen do. She's Carmen's biggest fan. In some things, Carmivy was even superior to Red Crackle. But doing the overall average, for me, Red Crackle just end up winning, but Carmivy got close. I think this shows what I'm talking about:

They are such simps for her. They both knew her so well. Ivy always knew what Carmen would do and tried to do it and Gray in the train scene he says:"You've proven yourself, that's all you ever wanted, wasn't it?" it shows how well he understands her. While it wasn't ALL she ever wanted, it was definitely something she wanted a lot and Gray realized even before Carmen herself did. At the Lucky Cat Caper(I don't remember if that's really the name but okay) when Carmen has a nightmare about the coat exam she says to Player:"I guess I still feel like I have something to prove." Another thing it gets me is how Carmen and Gray prioritizes each other's safety and well being. Like, sure, Carmen prioritizes these two things of a lot of people, but the way it's with Gray, they prioritize those things from each other on top of pretty much almost EVERYTHING. In the episode Carmen goes to rescue Gray from the jail in Reykjavik, she had a choice:Go get the stolen crown or get to Gray. She chooses Gray first. Of course she also gets the crown but she still chose Gray first. She set an alarm for him if he ever got in trouble because she wants to get him out of trouble and have a good fresh start. Also, we know Maelstrom likes to melt gold. I just can picture perfectly Maelstrom convincing Countess Cleo to have only the crown's precious gemstones to do other jewelry and then Maelstrom would get the crown gold to melt and do whatever he wants with it. And then Carmen would have lost the crown forever and would have totally failed for the first time. Carmen isn't dumb. She knew the faculty members, she lived with them almost her whole entire life. Even with that risk, she STILL chose Gray without even hesitating or thinking more carefully about it. That's how much Gray matters to her. She stole for V.I.L.E. to save Zack and Ivy and she never did something like that, against her morals, for Julia. She threatened to throw that V.I.L.E. artifact in that hole but the artifact was something that would help V.I.L.E. to find more things and steal them and she knew if she threw it, one day someone would find it or it would be hidden forever. So she had absolutely nothing to lose throwing it. She actually had something to win. It wasn't a sacrifice she was willing to do for Julia, like it was the case for Gray, Zack and Ivy.

And this was the final part of my ship analysis. The next thing related to ship will be a ship ranking, where I get all the Carmen Sandiego romantic ships and judge them from first to last place. Bye and see you soon!

#carmen sandiego #carmen sandiego 2019 #graham calloway #gray #crackle #red crackle #netflix #carmivy #ship analysis

89 notes · View notes

cherizzx · 21 days

Text

Pretty girl

Tsubaki x Black Reader ( we a girly girl now!)

F/c= Favorite Color

f/ch= favorite character

s/s= shoe size

" She's a lovely girl, I wish she would see it though."

' Tsubaki, she honestly the prettiest girl I've ever seen! I mean look at how stunning she is! She has pretty hair, cute outfits, and she has the patience of God she's like Anna Hathway! But she never sees it...'

I think this as I boredly stare at the board, Steins trying to dissect some bird again and Maka trying to stop him? I dunno I just twirl my hair and daydream when Patty taps my shoulder.

" Hm? Oh, hey patty girl" I smiled at her.

"Hiiii! Me and Liz, Tsubaki, and Maka was thinking of going to the shops after classes today and I want YOU to come!" She's like honestly like a mind reader or somethings because, I was going to go to like the thrift or the shoe store because I literally have nothing to wear!

" Omg! I legit love you, I'll go! When we leaving" I open my phone and try to set alarm because Death knows I can't keep up with the time when I'm going somewhere. Patty sends me the time and where to me and we talk about random things like does Lord Death know how to do cartwheels, can aliens turn into objects, do animals try to put on clothes? Ok Soul looked at us weird when he heard me say I thought animal testing was animals rating products...

*After Classes, around 2:45 and We in our room in a choas*

" I SWEAR I HATE FASHION SOMETIMES!"

I scream into my pillows, like nothings ever goes right!? I have a denim skirt that I thrifted, and I wanted to pair that with this white halter top but, it dirty and I can't wear it again because I stupidly spilled like red sauce on it! Which is confusing because it's not ketchup so what is it? I dunno so, I try a pink long sleeve but nooo its hotter than ever and I have nothing else to pair it with!

As I flip through the piles and piles of clothes I get a knock on my door, my meister/weapon is out for a family trip, so I answered and there goes pretty girl.

" Hey reader! wanted to come over before our hangout to see you."

Tsubaki tender smile graced her lips, and I smiled back subconsciously. I let her in and I sigh sadly.

" Tsubaki help me pleaseeee, which shirt pink halter with dark denim or yellow thank top and light blue jeans?" I switch the shirts put and down so she can see, and she takes a moment to pick.

" Pink top, it matches the jewelry you have"

" You're a genius!" I squeal and run to change clothes, thank Death I had just my locs in two ponytails (or whatever style you wanna wear). A spritz of perfume or 50 spritz and a twirl in the mirror and I walk out with a strut.

" I look fabulous, I look like coquette icon who Lana Del Ray? I see only Reader Del Slay!" I cockily strut around the room while Tsubaki chuckles and acts like a fan girl.

" Omg! Its reader!? Omg sign my shirt!" We both giggle at that and I grab my keys and we walk out my dorm, its 10 minutes before we supposed to meet up Patty and them so we just walk around campus talking about what we've been up too.

" So, your saying BlackStar had to go to the school nurse because he...fell off a building trying what now?"

" It's honestly still confusing to me" Tsubaki sighs pitifully, and I giggle at that. We walk to the entrance of the DWMA and we see Patty, Liz, and Maka waving at us. We walked down and we headed to our first store; 'Deathly Good Looks' it's like a thrift store but, no granny clothes a lot of vintage items and a bunch of items from the late 80's to mid 2000's. We walk around trying on sunglasses, hats, and purses and I move onto the back of the store looking for anything pink or f/c and fav/ch, as I looked around, I see Tsubaki looking at this dress with wonder..

" Ouu! Thats so pretty, your gonna try it on?"

" Hm, you think I should? I don't know if it'll be as cute on me"

I don't know but when she said that I almost tackled her, WHAT DOES SHE MEAN!? She could pull off a garbage bag and I'll want to wear it!

" What do you mean!? You'll look like a 90's baddie with this! especially if you wear some brown sandals, shades, and have a cute hair style you'll look better than the girl who first owned it!"

Tsubaki blushes at that and I wished I paid more attention to that though; I push her towards the dressing room and tell her to try it on; she takes a few minutes and when she comes out, I couldn't help myself.

" GOOD GOOGGLY MOOGLY WHATS ALLAT BACK THERE!"

I didn't even to say it! But the dress said her body was teaaa and the way she just walked out like she ain't all of us up?? Who does she think is?

" So, it is pretty? I like it" She asks looking in the mirror.

" I'll bite you" I say intense, and she laughed, the girls came over and complemented the dress on her and she changed back; we paid for our items and headed to the shoe store, since the kishin was released we've all had no late-night curfews unless you had a mission or a kishin was around, so we headed to the shoe store quick.

At the store I think I was in heaven honestly from platforms, pumps, flats this store would be bankrupt without me like I'm single handily an unofficial official owner! We look around and I show Maka some sandals that would match this dress she wore to the death anniversary, I saw some Bebe slippers and I went to see what size they we're a perfect s/s! I put them in a mini basket they have and look for more shoes today wasn't that good a lot of sneakers which I should've got if the sandals weren't telling me to buy them! Liz and Patty had like 50 carts of shoes and Tsubaki had a few items, we paid for those items after telling the twins when are they going to wear 'stripper heels'? And we headed to a nice diner close to the school.

We ordered our food I got a tiny burger and fries (if tiny means a sonic burger with a side of large fries and a triple Oreo fudge milkshake then yea girl...tiny) and we sat down and talked and gossiped about the boys, what drama was around, and stuff we've been doing. As we talked and ate, I kept staring at Tsubaki...omg that's sounds so creepy I gotta fid away with words, or is it thoughts since I'm not speaking? I don't know point still stands! But she's so pretty it's hard not too! She caught me a few times and blushed this time I saw and it's so cute I wanna bite her but, that'll be weird.

When we were done, we headed back to the dorms and said our byes, me and Tsubaki headed to her dorm since we were only one level down.

" Hey.. so, a saw you staring at me at the diner, I just wanted to see if you was ok?" ...' I'm not a spy, I'm not smooth, how could she see me I thought my side-eye was perfect! Omg she probably thinks I'm creepy and is gonna hate me!' The thoughts ran quick through my head as I awkwardly smiled and chuckled.

"Oh that! oh it was um..."

" Was what you said at the shop earlier true? Am I pretty?"

I was confused until I thought back to my she's so pretty rant...If I said it out loud then she heard which means she think I like her and I do and she's like me back now we-

" Your speaking out loud again reader"

oH...That's amazing thank youu!

" Oh..act like you've never heard that I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable! bUT-"

" I like you too reader...a lot actually

" You saying i'm bad? Ok girl thank you!" I say now giggling and twirling my hair, see I knew I gotta all the girls like I'm Nick Cannon with this!

Tsubaki goes on to tell me she didn't think she was as pretty as I made her to but, it broke my poor heart because she so gorgues!

" Tsubaki girl, I can't lie good, nor I can't say if someone is ugly or beautiful because I have my flaws but you! Your like so pretty it hurts! I look at you and your aura and the way you act entranced me, the way you care for your friends all the time you're so tender it makes me blush anytime you have a concern over me! If you don't feel beautiful then I don't know what I am!"

Tsubaki stares at e during my rant with wide eyes and when I was done a tear fell down as she hugged me tight..

" Thank you..Thank you so thinking that reader..."

I hold her and tell it it's all true, we walk to her dorm and she stops.

' So, are we a thing now? It's fine if-"

" So we married now?" we said at the same time, we both laughed at that.

" So..we girlfriends?

" Yea! I guess so!" I said all giggly now, Tsubaki smiled at me and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek as a bye.

" Bye Sweets see you in class"

" Bye bye Prety girl!" I said walking away with a wave.

Pretty girl, My pretty girl

A.N: (I finished! OMG THIS THE CUTEST THING I'VE EVER THOUGHT OF! Like y'all don't know how Patty and her was my soul eater crushes before anyyyy one! But let me know if you like this and I can write more for her because she so bad!

#black reader #chubby reader #x black reader #soul eater x reader #soul eater #tsubaki nakatsukasa #patty thompson #liz thompson #girly reader

22 notes · View notes

familyagrestefanblog · 9 months

Text

Marinette's memories after the wish

A detail from the end of "Re-creation" that just isnt letting me go is that Marinette still calls Monarque, well, MONARQUE towards Su-Han and Alya:

Even though she has very clearly told them where she was as we can gather by her pointing out the double wedding ring (meaning Su-Han and Alya could also know that Adrien is a Sentihuman which... *sigh*...) and having searched the basement:

Meaning she was open with them about the fight having taken place in the Agreste mansion and that Gabriel was involved and yet Marinette is weirdly still calling Gabriel Monarque here.

That is such a loaded detail. It could legit be a whole game-changer about Marinette "keeping" Gabriel's secret because it could straight up mean that Gabriel's wish changed both Adrien's AND Marinette's memories of him.

For all Marinette's words directly imply here she lost here memory of having figured out that Gabriel is Monarque and she thinks of them as two seperate men again. The most likely explaination here would be that Marinette may remember Monarque having crumbled into dust before he could win through Chat Noir's cataclysm from "Destruction"

But still remembers Gabriel Agreste having made the wish in desperation since, honestly, the given circumstances were PERFECT for that.

All the wish had to do is put in to Marinette's head that Gabriel and Tomoe were direct victims of Monarque as for a long time and they had to work with him, or agreed to, to keep their loved ones and lives safe. Gabriel in this case would have been the main victim which the finale pretty much perfectly set up for everyone to believe:

All Marinette has to think is that whatever happened to Emilie Agreste was Monarque's fault and he was pressuring Gabriel into helping him by threatening to do the same with Adrien, which was likely then instead done to Nathalie when she found out about it.

But Adrien would have still remained leverage nr. 1 against Gabriel as his son and same goes for Kagami for Tomoe:

This would be the perfect cover story for why Gabriel and Tomoe created the Alliance rings since parents will do alot to keep their children save and it can even be twisted into "explaining" the way Adrien and Kagami were treated by their parents if it happened under Hawkmoth's direct wrath and threat.

Gabriel himself is not only the only adult member of the Resistance he is also said to have been the person who then filled in Chat Noir's place when Ladybug was partnerless against Monarque when the final battle went down in his home where Emilie was kept to maybe be able to save her life?

This you can genuinely twist into Gabriel then not having been able to live with so much regret for what his involvement has caused that he sacrificed himself by making a wish, which Marinette now would still be remembering like this:

The chain of effect for how suddenly everyone who seperated themselves from Gabriel by now would think of him and Tomoe (Andre for example in "Collusion") would go on and on and ON washing Gabriel's and Tomoe's hands clean while Tomoe continues, who I have no doubt would have kept her memories all together.

I also would say that Lila and Nathalie still have their memories but I also gotta be honest, thats a whole can of worms I have to properly think through. My main point here is Marinette still calling Monarque "Monarque" despite what went down and what she told Su-Han and Alya and the possible implications of that concidering how well the rest of the finale sets up the cover story of Gabriel and Tomoe having been used by Hawkmoth all along by using Adrien and Kagami as leverage against them.

It just works too well and it would fit with how Adrien suddenly had a ALARMING perspective change regarding his father after the wish, which, NO, isnt god damn normal as trauma response jfc.

This would mean that Adrien and Marinette would go through season 6 in the new reality possibly figuring out bit by bit that their memories arent right to get an easier exporation phase for the new reality, and then season 7 has them know again what we left of in the old one.

Or Marinette is straight up lying to everyone now, even to Su-Han and Alya. Who knows at this point? But I truly hope that's not something they will put on Marinette's character even if at this point I wouldnt exactly call it out of character either.

#ml spoilers #ml recreation #ml theory #ml analysis #ml season 5 #ml season 6 #Gabriel Agreste #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #ml

89 notes · View notes

gay-dorito-dust · 1 year

Note

If you're open to requests would you write “are you hurt? you look hurt, are you sure everything’s okay?” from your prompt list with George Karim?

Again my brain is still firmly fixated on a spn x lockwood and Co crossover. They fit perfectly in my minds eye. Also I kinda had to break off the prompt a little.

“Hey Casper, why don’t you quit being a pansy arse and come on out for a friendly chat.” You spoke aloud in the dimly light hallway, progressing slowly as you searched room after room for the damned ghost, “I promise I don’t bite.” You add as you tighten your grip on your shotgun. “Much.”

You were currently on a solo ghost hunt in an abandoned warehouse where sketchy people relocated to do their dealings in and from what you gathered, there had been sightings from said dealers of an ghost that has been killing them off one by one in brutal fashion, but the authorities had all but swept it under the rug; seeing this as an golden opportunity to minimise the already alarming percentage of drug dealings within town.

You, however, had been itching for a simple salt and burn for a long while and weren’t about to pass up the chance of shooting some spectral visitors in the face with a shotgun full of rock salt, rather then fending them off with a flimsy Rapier; You had nothing against them but you preferred the way you’ve been taught to hunt over how people these days were being taunt.

You mean sure, it was effective and surfactant but you’ve always hated playing by someone else’s rules. You missed the tales Dean would tell you during his hunting youth but since his passing all you had left of him was his hunting gear, his hunting journals and the impala; All of which you took extremely good care of.

So when the ghost didn’t appear at your taunt, you began to grow annoyed and started doubting the dealers accounts of what happened. They could’ve been high for all you knew and the ghost they claimed to have seen was merely a symptom of the hallucinate drugs they’ve taken prior. However the sounds you’ve picked up on from your little ghostly visitor told you that there was a legit presence here and it was just fucking with you at this point and finding humour in your frustrations.

“Oh, just come on out so we can get this over with you shitty, fuckin-“ before you could finish your sentence the ghost appeared behind you and was about to make a grab for you when you managed to get out of dodge; taking a chest shot at it with your iron crowbar, causing it to dissipate briefly before coming back for another go at you from up close this time and before you could get a clear shot of it.

The ghost used it’s powers to push into a nearby wall, making a decent dent in it, which sent your gun from your hand and skidding just away aways from the ghost. “Simple salt and burn my arse.” You groaned in pain as the ghost was fast approaching you; Gifting no room for you to get back to your feet before being flung once again into a metal shelving rack which collapsed upon impact with your body and you to yelp in even more pain.

“Give me time to get up you unfair prick!” You exclaimed as the ghost appeared before you again, prepping to throw you for a third time, that was until you managed to act quick enough and grab an broken piece of iron, jabbing it into the ghost as it disappeared and within the short time span that you had; you ran back to your gun just in time to get a shot in when the ghost got uncomfortably close.

“Prick.” You spat as you limped out of the warehouse towards the sight where you found the bones of the ghost you needed to salt and burn- just behind the warehouse funnily enough- though not before parking the impala nearby for easier access for a quick getaway should the situation became too dire for you to handle single-handedly.

You nabbed the gasoline from the back of the impala and dumped the whole canister onto the bones before struggling to set the match alight that soon sent the bones into an fiery inferno. Ending the ghost’s reign of terror.

After concluding the case, you dragged your battered and bruised self back to the Impala, groaning in discomfort as you shifted into the driver seat before driving back to 35 Portland Row, London, aka where the people you’ve considered family were waiting.

By the time you got back to Lockwood and Co, you were barely able to stand from both your injuries and the fatigue that was quick to catch up to you directly after the adrenaline rush wore off. “Ah shit.” You cursed under your breath when you noticed that one of the wounds you’ve sustained was starting to bleed and were quick to press a hand against it as you stumbled in through the hallway.

“Y/n?” George’s voice called from the kitchen as his footsteps were quick and hurried as though he was in a rush to see you. “I’m fine!” You called out but it was too late to hide anything as George was stood across from you in the hallway, his dark, expressive eyes glanced from one wound to another. “Are you hurt? That’s a stupid question because You look hurt.” his rambling came to a stop when he saw the pain flash across your face as you put down more pressure on one of your more concerning wounds, “I’m okay.” You grunted.

“Okay? Are you sure everything’s okay because to me it looks like your bleeding out in the middle of the hallway.”

“It’s tomato sauce.” You defended as George was then set off into another rambling rant as he ride himself of his apron, tossing it onto one of the backs of the chairs before rushing to your side to support your weight as he helped you to the bathroom where the first aid was safely kept.

“George, I can patch myself up.” You whined as you were sat on the toilet seat whilst George pulled out the first aid kit, shooting you an concerned glare as his eyes once again scanned of your form. “Not in that state your not,” he tells you, “you look at though you went at it with a cinder block for a concerning amount of time and won by pure dumb luck.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle which only ended in you wincing in pain. “Stop making me laugh, I’m hurt and blessing all over the toilet seat.” You whined lightly.

“So you’re finally admitting that your not okay and that mysterious red stuff standing the carpet down stairs isn’t tomato sauce? Gee, nice to know and here I thought you were just pulling a belated April fools prank on me.” He utters sarcastically as he pulled together everything he needed before patching you up gingerly.

#lockwood imagines #lockwood imagine #lockwood x reader #Lockwood x you #lockwood and co imagines #lockwood and co imagine #lockwood and co x you #lockwood and co x reader #george karim imagine #george karim imagines #george karim x you #george karim x reader

222 notes · View notes

zmediaoutlet · 2 months

Note

happy wincest wednesday!! what's an example of an episode or storyline that you think would play out differently with sam/deanna? and is there a trope you think would suit the hetcest dynamic better?

hello, my femme deanna-truth bud, happy wincest wednesday to you. and perhaps it's proof of how fantastically well Deanna cleaves to the actual characterization and canon of the show that every storyline that's popping to mind is just enhanced by the sex/gender change. Like -- soulless!Sam letting Dean get turned into a vampire and how that vampire sire was absolutely a creepy rapist? That but with Deanna? Identical, just more... obvious. Sam having a relationship with Amelia, while Dean has a "relationship" with Benny, and how that's written as a dual affair where they have to dump their mistresses? If Deanna's in Purgatory with Benny, there is absolutely zero question that they were fucking, and it's just actually explicit instead of heavily implicated in subtext.

I think one thing that would maybe genuinely feel different would be the time when Mary came back. You can play it a lot of ways, but it doesn't seem unreasonable that Deanna might have a much more complicated relationship with the absent sainted mother than Dean did. For one thing, Mary doesn't get the safe madonna-distance due to gender difference -- and while Dean's mother-and-wife replacement status for John is subtextual in canon, Deanna gets it with both barrels. When she sees what happens when Mary makes that deal to bring John back -- when she sees that Mary wants to have a 'normal' life -- when she knows that Mary's choices have doomed not just the family in general but Sam in the specific (and setting aside that destiny and literal God have conspired to bring Mary to the place where she would do those things) -- Dean clearly has some resentment but manages to set that aside for the beloved mother on a pedestal. I think Deanna might be significantly more pissed off, and overtly. Rather than simpering big-eyed at the lovely mommy in the white nightgown, I think she'd go quite frosty and resentful and thinking, yeah? You weren't the one who had to deal with what your choices actually meant.

How interesting it'd be to have Sam in the middle of that particular weirdness. Imagine Mary coming out with those little nitpicky 'mom comments' about how Deanna wears her hair or how she dresses or wondering why she cleans her shotgun that way and Deanna getting ready to fucking explode, lol. I wouldn't have given you the damn thing if I didn't think you'd take care of it but times a hundred, a thousand. Imagine Mary making that deal with the Letters and Deanna not just icing her out but fucking decking her in the jaw.

...This actually isn't all that different to canon either, is it, lol. Deanna just always makes whatever textually happens to Dean more intense, more overt, more there, in a way that isn't the lovely interpretability of canon but just IN YOUR FACE. Our little object without agency, parentified and wifed, battered on all sides.

Oh, and for the trope: legit D/s. More obvious on the face of it, but actually more subversive and alarming if you think longer.

#for my sanity i am ignoring the timestamp on this ask #it's embarrassing #happy wincest wednesday #idk if people want to do asks or whatever anymore #what is participation lol #but let me know if you want a thing #answers

20 notes · View notes

specialagentlokitty · 1 year

Text

Bucky x reader - This feeling

Sitting on your bed, you were tying your shoes up when you heard a soft knock on your door.

Looking up, your roommate smiled at you as she walked over handing you your work jacket and your bag as she sat down on the bed next to you.

“Are you ready?”

“Yup! But I do have a question.”

You grabbed your phone and pulled up your emails to show her the new one.

“I don’t understand it Kira.”

She chuckled a little and took the phone from your hand.

“It’s just a marketing email, here I’ll show you how you can stop them from emailing again.”

You smiled in thanks and and pocketed your phone as you followed her out of the apartment to her car.

You weren’t used to things, so she was a great help towards you.

You guys got to work and you were ushered towards the new department where they were unveiling a new section.

They were showing all the staff first, and handing out booklet which held all the information for tours or curious visitors who just wanted to ask a few more.

You were flicking through the booklet, skimming over all the new information.

“I heard the asked Captain America to attention to opening but they never got a reply…” Kira whispered.

“He does seem like a busy man, I’m sure there’s a reason why he can’t.” You shrugged.

She nodded her head and you both walked over to the large wall to look at what was on there.

Your eyes scanned over all of the photos and information and finally you stopped at one of them, you stared at it silently for a moment.

“Kira..” you whispered.

“What’s up?”

She looked at the photo you were looking at.

“It.. he looks familiar.”

The pointed to the man stood next to captain America.

“Apparently that’s his best friend, James Buchanan Barnes. Or bucky.”

You nodded your head and you carried on staring at the man in the photo.

Why did he look so familiar? There was nothing anywhere about captain americas best friend, your exhibit was one of the few around the country with any sort of information about the mysterious man.

You read what was there, but although the photo did look familiar none of the information you read did, so you simply just ignored it.

You didn’t work on the museum floor, so you didn’t have to confront anyone looking for extra information on the exhibit.

Sitting in the architect room, you were examining one of the new items someone had brought by when Kira walked in with a photo in her hand.

“Hey, someone brought this in for the new exhibit, can you authenticate it by any chance? Or tell me how likely it is to be real?”

“Sure follow me.”

You led her to a different room and asked her to set the photo under a projector.

Once it was all set you walked over to the screen and showed Kira everything you were looking for, and explained the whole process to her.

“Where did they get it?”

“Said someone in their family took it years ago and it was just passed down, they want to sell it.”

You nodded and walked over, taking the photo you spent another hour preforming all the checks that you would normally do, and repeating some of them just to make sure you hadn’t missed anything.

Once you were sure that it was legit you handed it back over and smiled.

“It’s legit, but it looks like there’s a section missing so that would hinder its value, but if they can find the rest of the photo it’ll increase its value regardless.”

“Awesome, thanks!”

Grinning, you went back to your work.

That night when you went to bed your dreams were plagued with images of the captain and his best friend, before Steve had become the worlds famous supersoldier. He was still a small, skinny little boy, and bucky looked well groomed.

They were laughing and cheering and you were part of it all.

The whole dream felt so real that when you woke up you weren’t even sure that you were actually away until your heard the alarm on your phone going off.

Night after night after night you had dreams like that, and they all felt so incredibly real that after a few months of this you decided to confide in Kira about what was going on.

“And you’re saying they’re like memories?” She asked.

“Yes, Kira these can’t be because of the things we’ve seen or research for the museum. This are things that I’ve never seen before, and I know nothing about the two men personally as I’ve never met them, but everything that happens is so incredibly like what they would have been in those times.”

Kira frowned a little, crewing in the end of her fork before stabbing it into the food on her plate and taking a bite.

“Maybe you can see the past?” She asked.

You shook your head.

“No, no it is much more then that. I can physically feel everything that goes on inside these dreams, every emotion, touch, I can smell everything as it should have been, hear it all as it should have been.”

She frowned a little, setting her fork down.

“Well… we don’t know what year you’re from, so maybe you guys are from the same year and you bumped into them?” She asked.

You stared down at your hands.

“I… I don’t know… how do we even find out…”

“Well, that guy is coming in with the rest of that picture tomorrow. I know it’s your day off but when I get it maybe I can text you what it is? See if it helps or if they know anything about a young woman that the super soldiers were friends with?” She asked.

You simply nodded your head and went back to eating your food quietly.

When you thought about the dreams it made you sad, like something was missing but you had no idea what.

It was like you were so close to them, and when you somehow woke up in the present day everything was ripped away from you.

Did you actually know them? Was this just your brain playing tricks on you? Wishing you did know them just to fill the void of the memories that you were missing from your life before this?

You had no clue.

As the next day came and went you found yourself anxiously sitting by your phone waiting for that message from Kira.

It was a long shot you knew that, but even so you were curious about the missing part of the photo.

Finally you heard the ding of your messages and you snatched your phone from the table and quickly unlocked it and you zoomed in on the picture she had sent you.

It was blurry and something had been spilled on it and you sighed to yourself, closing it to read the messages.

Kira: the guy doesn’t know about a woman, but he said there was a third person in the photo. The techs said they can clear it up but it’ll take a few days

Kira: also a letter arrived here for you, it’s on your desk :)

You smiled a little and typed your reply.

You: thanks, can you bring the letter home with you? Also thank you for letting me know.

So you had to wait a few more days? Would it even be worth it?

The letter Kira brought home wasn’t important, so you tossed it aside.

As the days slipped by you found it hard to focus on your work with your mind racing about possible answers you could get.

When the day came, you were bouncing on the balls of your feet as the techs came over and set a dish in your desk, showing a ripped photo sitting in it.

“It’s slightly smudged, but through a magnifying glass you can see it clearly.” The young man smiled.

Smiling at him you nodded and waited for him to leave before snatching the magnifying glass from your draw and held it up to the photo.

“Anything?” Kira asked.

“There’s definitely a woman, but I only recognise her. Do you?”

You let her examine it and she looked at you before turning back to the photo then turning back to you.

“It’s.. that’s you…?”

“I..it what..?” You stuttered out.

“Shit (Y/N) that’s you!” She yelled.

You fell to your seat in pure shock as you stared at her in disbelief.

“Those dreams? They’re your memories! The reason you can feel all the emu and stuff? Because you’ve lived it! And holy shit you’re hot as hell in this Jesus!” She gushed.

You simply blinked and stood up, walking away without a word.

How did you process something like that?

You told your boss you weren’t well and went home, crawling into bed as you stared at the wall opposite you.

You weren’t sure how long had passed but eventually Kira came home she walked into your room and sat next to you.

She pulled your head on her shoulder and took your hand in hers as she gave it a gentle squeeze.

“My whole life…” you whispered.

“I know.” Kira said softly.

She stayed with the whole night, and called your boss the following day explaining that she was going to swap shifts with you.

You were going to take her day off and you were going to work on the weekend when her next day in was.

She went to shower and get ready and came back into your room before leaving.

“Will be okay?” She asked.

You turned your attention to her.

You gave a nod and she left, leaving you alone.

You showered and got something to eat before you got dressed.

You weren’t sure what to do, but your heart was telling you to go to the museum so you did.

You went to the exhibit and carefully examined the photos. You turned to the one of Captain America stood posing alone.

“I wonder if he remembers too…?” You whispered.

“I’m sure no one could forget a face like yours.” A quiet voice mumbled.

You jumped and spun around, coming face to face with a man who offered you a small smile.

He had brown hair that came down to his shoulders and he wore a black leather jacket, hands stuffed inside his pockets.

“I.. I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to scare you.. or make you uncomfortable…” he mumbled.

“It’s okay…”

He cleared his throat and awkwardly looked away before turning back to you.

“Sorry… you just look familiar is all…”

You just nodded your head and walked over to the bench and he carried on looking at the wall.

He seemed to be focused on the new photo you had added. He reached further into his pocket and pulled out what appeared to be a small photo and he held it up.

It looked like he was comparing them both.

You were curious, but you didn’t get up to ask you simply just stayed there and looked at your watch, knowing Kira would come on here break soon.

The man leant back and stared at the photo in his hands, he walked over and sat in the bench next to yours with a heavy frown on his face.

“(Y/N)!”

You turned around and smiled, standing up as Kira came walking over.

She wrapped her arms around you and hugged you.

“He’s staring at you.”

“It’s fine…” you whispered back.

She nodded her head and you guys went to get some lunch and you told Kira what the man had said but she said not to think much about it.

You dropped her back at work and the man was still sat in the bench.

Concerned you walked over and took a seat next to him.

“You’ve been here a while, and I know people don’t sit in a museum that long without a reason.” You spoke.

“Can’t a man just sit and enjoy the peace?” He smiled.

“He can, but he’s chosen to sit in the loudest part of the museum at the moment.”

“I suppose that’s true, I’m just looking for someone who works here that I used to know.”

“Have you had any luck finding them?”

He turned to you and gave you a soft smile, taking a photo out of his pocket he held it out to you.

It was black and white, and you recognised him immediately.

“You’re James Barnes?” You asked shocked.

“Yeah… but you used to call me Buck…”

He pointed to the woman in the picture and it was you.

Looking up in shock you stared at him, searching his eyes for any sign of this being made up but you couldn’t find it.

“I never thought I’d see you again.. I.. I though you passed…” he whispered.

He put the photo away and shuffled a little closed, mindful to still keep his distance from you.

“I know it’s been so long, but I just.. I had to find you again (Y/N)…”

“You’re… different…” you whispered.

He nodded his head.

“Yeah… but I’m still bucky.. or somewhat anyways.. a lot has happened and if you don’t want to see me that’s okay I’ll go. I just had to see if it were true, if you really were here, I know Steve would like to see you too.”

You didn’t say anything and he sighed, nodding his head as he stood up and started to walk away.

Quickly getting up, you rushed over and took his hand in yours making him stop.

“I want to get to know you bucky. You and Steve, I still don’t remember everything from the past but I know you guys were everything that me and I don’t want to loose that again.”

Bucky smiled and turned around, looking at your hand in his before he let go and pulled you in for a swift hug.

“I told you I’d always wait for you doll…” he whispered.

Wrapping your arms around him, you rested your head on his chest and smiled to yourself.

This felt right, like you’d done it a million times, like you belonged with him and only him. You were like two matching pieces of a puzzle and you wanted to get to know him again for who he was now because the feeling you felt in your heart? That was true, it was real and you wanted to keep that feeling

#marvel #marvel imagine #marvel x you #marvel x reader #avengers x you #avengers imagine #avengers #avengers x reader #Bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes inagine #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine

125 notes · View notes

mrs-monaghan · 9 months

Text

Okay so I just woke up. Forgot to set an alarm last n8 so I didn't camp or wake up for the video 😔 but better late than never r8? 🤭 Anyway. First thing I did was sit my ass down on the toilet, put both earphones in and volume on maximum. Coz u gotta hear every beat, every word and all that jazz.

I haven't read anyone's opinion I haven't caught up online. I've just been on YT, Tiktok and that's it. But I just had to come here because antis are amusing as shit 😂😂😂 the unreasonable expectations they set up for themselves about a song by a singer from a conservative country

The sooner I-army start treating BTS like the South Koreans that they are, the better.

So the song, first of all, my first take away from the music video. Hello! Jungtiddies!!!!!

He he he hee!!! Clocked them immediately 🤭 I've already listened to this song like 5 times already y'all

I mean, the hype surrounding it was overkill but I knew the song was going to be good. The chorus won't stop playing in my mind!

C'mon baby, let me swallow your pride

👀

Is that what the kids are calling it these days?

So the hand holding at the end, is this what was making people go bonkers?

Call an ambulance for Jikookers! JK held a woman's hand in the music video!!!

Jikook isn't real. Let's pack our bags. It's all over 😭😭 I can't y'all. This is too funny. 😂😂😂

Okay so the explicit version is my favourite, obviously. Duh. JK fucks right, 7 days a week, wbk. 🤓

Whatchu gonna do seven days a week JK?

I asked, what you gon do seven days a week Jungkook???

Right. Okay then.

Thats settled.

So, I'd turned off my asks because the speculations were getting out of hand. But they're back on now so... let it rip guys. In the meantime, I'll go check out what fellow Armys are doing and saying and what else I missed from the MV.

This song is legit. Making the explicit version my ringtone, for sure. Sorry SMF 😩😩

#ask shaz #jungkook #jk bts #jikook #jungkook seven #jk seven #the fuckery #jikook antis

65 notes · View notes

ro-presents-under-the-nola-stars · 5 months

Text

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈

𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐰 𝐚𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭

𝐏𝐆

𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞. 𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐱. 𝐑𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞. 𝐑𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧.

𝐉𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐉𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐮 𝐱 𝐉𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐚 𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐱, 𝐎𝐂

𝐉𝐉 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐉𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐚'𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬. 𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐉𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐉'𝐬 𝐝𝐲𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐜.

𝟏𝟏.𝟕𝐊 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬

Excitement doesn't do it, if you were to ask Jasira what she felt about her impending, final performance as a dancer. Excitement is not nearly strong enough. Anxious doesn't quite feel like it encapsules what she feels. Whatever she's feeling, she's set ten alarms for the morning, both at home and at her dad's house. They have to be in Baton Rouge by three fifteen in the morning; the bus her dad helped the team rent leaves at three thirty, and she wants to cook breakfast for herself and her dad before they have to get on the road, so she's doing what needs to be done to wake up on time.

Not that it particularly matters.

She isn't awakened by the sound of one of her loud, obnoxious alarms, but rather, the sound of the ringtone she's recorded from one of her diary entries and set for JJ. Jasira, who can sleep through natural diasters (and has done so before), wakes up -- every morning -- to the sound of this ringtone with a sense of urgency similar to when she heard those levees break. Only, she wakes up with a feeling of peace instead of fear when she hears that ringtone. In any case, she wakes up, now, just as quickly for JJ as she does when her life is endangered. It's a thing she's actually taken note of, but not really thought long enough about to figure out if it means something. Or, what it means.

Sitting up, she rubs her eyes with one hand while reaching for her phone on the night stand with the other hand. When she answers the phone, she peeks at the time, eyes widening when she sees the time.

"It's one in the morning." She grumbles.

"Yeah, I know," JJ answers, "but during lunch you seemed worried about being late, so I set an alarm for you."

Jasira smiles to herself. She didn't even realized she'd seemed that anxious at lunch or anxious at all, but of course, JJ noticed. Maybe because of job or she's just naturally attentive, but JJ seems to notice everything.

"You didn't have to wake up just to wake me up, Bluejay." Jasira speaks, softly. JJ has to be up herself at five. It's an unnessary break in her sleep. "What if you can't go back to sleep after this?"

JJ snorts, smiling to herself at the concern in her girl's voice, but not at all concerned herself. She hadn't exactly planned to go back to sleep, "You ever just say thank you?"

"I'm appreciative," Jasira insists, standing to stretch; JJ can hear her cute little groan. Truth be told, there was no hassle in waking up for this. In about seventeen hours-- give or take, her girl will be in her arms, assuming she doesn't get a case between now and then, and it'd been on her mind so much she could hardly sleep. "I'm just sayin' you shoulda slept the whole night through 'cause," she says, going over to her alarm clock, unplugging it, "I had my alarms, my daddy coming over and everything, legit any minute now. You didn't have to wake up for me."

"Thank you," JJ repeats, spoon feeding Shy the words she wants parrotted back to her, ignoring her concerns.

Jasira sighs with a lighthearted eyeroll; JJ is kind of bossy, and she kind of likes it, "Thank you, Bluejay, you so sweet."

"You are very welcome, Shy, anything for you," she says back, tossing her feet over the bed and pushing herself out of it. Since she's up and she's got zero plans of falling back asleep, she figures she may as well find something to watch. "What can I watch on TV at this hour?"

"You really not gon go back to sleep?"

"Nope," she enters her living and plops down on the couch. She grabs the remote, and turns on her television.

Jasira looks over at the time before answering, "Martin reruns might be on MTV."

JJ looks for it, and Shy was right. So, JJ leans back and enjoys the sitcom, she had only been introduced to through her girl. Even so, it's becoming one of her favorites. It's one of those few sitcoms or anythings that make her laugh until her sides and her back hurt. Jasira turns her television onto the same channel so they could watch together.

"Do you have your laptop on you?"

JJ sits back up, "Do you want to Skype?" She asks, though, she's already standing to go back to her room, "Because I can go get it."

"Please," Jasira asks, sandwiching the phone between her shoulder and her ear, grabbing her own laptop and walking into the kitchen to set it up, "Cause I'm finna need both of my hands." And, within mere moments of looking through her things, JJ's got it and the charger in her hand.

They each log into their Skype accounts, getting on with each other. Upon seeing each other's faces, they each hang up with cellphones. Hands free, now, Jasira dives into her breakfast preparation. Watching Jasira, JJ forgets all about Martin on TV. Jasira's wearing one of those tight, midriff cropped tanks that she sleeps in with a pair of red and white daisy dukes. Jasira's pretty much tunnel visioned on her task, so JJ tries to keep up, tries to pick up on what she might be making. But, she's not altogether sure, so she just breaks down and asks, hoping that she isn't the cause of disturbance. And, it's a baseless worry because Jasira doesn't stop as she answers.

"It's just a breakfast bowl and beignets. I wanna eat real food before I have to eat fast food all the way to DC."

JJ had to bite her lip to keep from smiling at the sheer mention of Jasira being in her space, soon. Not soon enough. Soon enough would be immediate, but soon.

"Speaking of real food," Jasira mentions, glancing up into the camera before turning around to put grease on the stove to heat. She comes back to camera, "You good on groceries?"

JJ's ears go red when she chuckles, and Jasira always thinks she looks cute flustered. Even cuter how the most random of things seem to fluster her. Shy goes to get the dough she'd prepared before she went to bed out of the refridgerator, to give JJ some relief.

"I was going to go grocery shopping when I got off work, I didn't want you to come over to nothing but takeout that I won't even finish."

Jasira shrugs, cutting her beignet dough into shapes, "We can just go together when I get up there."

And, JJ is more excited to do that than she is for any date she's ever been on. The two of them continue to talk, here and there as Jasira cooks. Mostly, JJ just asked questions about the process and before they know it, she's giving JJ a mini lesson and a promise that she will teach her more extensively when they're together.

Any moment, now, Jasira had told her. Her dad would be coming over any moment now. Still, she's not prepared for the sound of the front door being tinkered with. And, given her situation, it immediately makes JJ nervous and scared for her. But, Jasira just looks at the time, assures her that she knows it's just her dad. Tells her he's probably just changing her lock before he comes inside, and this is how JJ founds out that Jasira's locks gets changed ever week, at random times. Apparently, it's helpful to keep him from getting inside. Because, apparently, when she keeps the same lock for too long, he creates a mold and uses it to get a key made. And, Jasira says that so nonchantly, it's insane -- to JJ -- that she won't let her get involved.

Jasira's calmness, though, does nothing for JJ, because she won't believe it's not Jasira's big bad monster until she sees her dad's face.

Not, that she wants him to see hers. She knows she's not ready for that; meeting some of the kids over Skype had been nervewracking enough, but her father? It's a whole other thing. She and Jasira have talked about him at length, and JJ wants feel prepared to prove herself when she meets him. She knows she'll have to. She's good with parents, usually. When she was in relationships where it didn't matter too much to her whether or not she was liked, where her girlfriend's weren't quite so family oriented. When she was in relationships where they at least had some sort of common ground that wasn't the girl she was dating. But, now, being with Shy (though, they aren't together), she's stepping into a different world here. And, from the way Jasira talks about her family, talks about her dad, JJ doesn't think they have any common ground except Shy. Which is horrifying, and JJ isn't sure how she would fare.

Furthermore, she's worried about if Jasira will stay on Skype with her or not when he comes inside. Because if she hangs up, it saves her the interaction, but if she hangs up then what does that say about how she sees this? But, if she doesn't hang up, what will she say if he asks questions? How will she define this? Because they aren't ... together. But, this feels like something .. that means a lot. So, maybe they don't have a label, really, but there is definition, and will Shy recognize that, if her dad asks? Does JJ want her to?

"Mommy!" Cuts JJ right out of her thoughts, but it drops extra weight on her fears. She sees the woman enter the frame and wrap her arms around her daughter, closing her eyes as she squeezes.

After a moment, still in the embrace, blue eyes meet blue, and she and Jasira's mother are just staring at one another. Her mother squints before pulling back, and when she does, she doesn't speak English. She speaks that language that JJ's only heard Jasira speak a small amount of times, that language that sounds something like French but not. Certainly French influenced, but certainly not French. JJ doesn't know what the hell they're speaking about but when Jasira glances at her with this look that can only be compared to that of a nervous teenager, she knows for sure they're talking about her. Maybe she's catastraphizing because they aren't speaking English but knowing she's being spoken of has her that much more nervous.

Almost as if she can hear JJ's thoughts or feel her feelings, Shy looks over at her with soft eyes and smile. When they pull away from one another, Jasira gestures to the screen, still talking, body language becoming more and more defensive as her mom's becomes tone becomes more tense. There's worry in her voice. If it's on thing JJ knows, it's a mother's fear. She calls for Shy's father, in English, walking away from her daughter towards her husband as she switches back to her native tongue. Jasira huffs before giving her attention back to JJ, the confusion on her face unmissable.

"Mommy knows I'm staying with you in DC, and she is," she sighs, looking over her shoulder, watching her parents go back and forth. Each of them tossing her a glace every now and again, "not happy about it. She doesn't trust my judgment, and she thinks it's a stupid reckless thing to do because we haven't know each other long. And, now, she is telling Daddy, and I'm finna catch hell."

"Did you tell her I'm an FBI agent? I mean," JJ chuckles, "Who else could you be safer with?"

Jasira nearly cackles, drawing looks from both of her parents yet again, "You want me to tell my black ass parents, who have both -- in some way -- been victimized by law enforcement on both a systemic and interpersonal level at various points of their lives and general lineage, that I, their baby, am gon go stay in another state with an FBI agent that I have only met and fucked once like two months ago? If you don't wanna see me ever again in life, Bluejay, just say that. I won't be offended."

"So, what're you going to do?" JJ asked, chewing her lip. Her stomach is swirling a bit. Sure, Jasira is an adult. She could technically do what she wants, but also, she's close to her parents. She holds what they say to her chest closely, JJ can tell by the way she talks about them. Not only that, but her father pays her bills, which gives her more reason to be obedient to him. She can't help but worry that their plans may be affected by this. Sure, even if Shy doesn't stay in her apartment, they can still see each other, but she's been looking forward to this. She would hate for plans to change.

Jasira huffs as she continues to cook, "Ima come see you. They can just be mad. They not gon trust my judgment no matter what so I ain't finna keep explaining myself." The confirmation that Jasira is still planning to stay with her, no matter what, relifts her spirits and wipes away her anxieties. Jasira, continuing to knead her dough into the shapes she desires, adds, "Ima try to keep the conversation in English, but if my mom does all the talking then it prolly won't be successful, and depending on how things go, it might switch again."

"How many languages do you speak?"

Shy's face scruches up as she thinks, mouthing off the various languages to herself as she counting them all. Her hands slow to a stop, now, just holding the dough in her hands. "Um, if I'm remembering all of them, six, I think," she says, obviously still thinking. She starts mouthing again, "Kouri Vini, Cajun French, ASL, BASL, Spanish, English..." she nods, to herself; she thinks that's it, but she's not completely sure; she shrugs, giving up on her thought before saying again to JJ, "Yeah, 6. Four verbal, two signing, I think."

JJ's eyes widened. She thought she would be used to linguistically inclined people, having spent so much time with Reid and Prentiss. Still, she's impressed, more now than she was with them. Because Reid is Reid, and Emily is an aristocrat. It just makes sense for them. That said, she doesn't know if she knows any normal, every day people who are gifted in such ways. Furthermore, she's never known anyone who spoke languages who weren't common or widely known. There are two of the six that JJ knows for fact she's never heard of. She doesn't think either of them sign, and yet Shy signs. To say she's impressed is an understatement; mindblown fits better.

"How have you found the time to even learn six languages? Much less be fluent in them. You're only, what, twenty-two? Languages take a long time to learn, no?"

Shy just shrugs, "I guess? I mean, I can't say. I ain't an expert, I just always been like this. I learned real young so I dunno anything different," she tells her before going over to check the heat of her grease. She sprinkles some flour into it, just to see. Satifised, she goes back for the dough. She's still thinking about JJ's question. At the astonishment in her tone, really. She's never really given it much thought before, her relationship with different languages. She's certainly never dicussed it with or explained it to anyone. So, she rarely thinks about it, the origin of her tongue. She never really needs to, but she's sure JJ has follow up questions, and she's just quiet as if she's waiting. Shy's memories are catching up to her and she shares as she thinks, "I mean, I remember learning English. That was hard. I remember when I was like, three, only recongizing my dad's voice, but not understanding anything he was saying. I remember, like, if my parents were fighting or something, they would always argue in English because I didn't speak it. I didn't understand it. I started to, pick up on it a little bit when I was like, 4. But, I didn't actually start to for real learn it until I was, 5, or 6, maybe? Whenever I moved to New Orleans and started going to school. So, yeah, like, 6 or so."

JJ squints, "I thought you were from Louisiana?"

"Yeah."

JJ's head tilts just a bit as she asks, "So, then, how did you not speak English?"

"Well, 'cause," Shy starts, but then, her eyes trail off in the direction of her parents as they approach her. She's so still watching this that JJ groans, thinking her computer has frozen. That is until she broke out into a smile and greeted her father, "I'm making breakfast for you."

He waves off the greeting, "What happened to ya lil plan?" Her jaw goes slack a bit, as if she were going to respond, but she's not given a chance. "I thought you was focusing on yaself, I thought you was healing. You said outcha own mouth you don't needa be dating nobody for a few years while you getcha yaself together," Shy's mouth opens again, "I thought you had a good head on ya shoulders, I thought you was thinkin' straight. But, it ain't even been a full year. You barely got you figured out and you already tryna shack up with the next nigga. You don't know that nigga from a worm on the sidewalk."

"Okay, well, first of all, she's white." Jasira corrects her dad, like it matters. It's really the only thing she can retort because he's not exactly wrong. Meeting JJ and deciding to explore beyond the one night stand with her was derailing her plan a good bit. Granted, they weren't exclusive as she wanted to keep her freedom for a while, but she and JJ were a big deal. She hadn't planned on really spending any kind of a time with one person, in the way she does with JJ, until she was at least twenty-seven. The amount of time she dedicates to JJ a day, the dreams she finds herself having about what could be to now going to spend ten days in JJ's home, it all feels like a slippery slope for her. Except, she's long slipped, and she hasn't quite found her footing yet again, doesn't matter how many other dates she's been on, doesn't matter how hard she's tried to not focus her everything on JJ. JJ is threatening to become an all consuming faction in her life, and she's trying to remain in control. She wants to entertain her, but she is determined to focus on herself, and she will. There's already difficulty in balancing it all, she's finding, and they've not even seen one another but once. But, she's holding herself back. The easiest thing, most simple thing to stay on track would be to cut ties, but she doesn't want to do that. Not with that nagging feeling in her gut that she would absolutely regret if she did manifesting as nausea every time she gives the idea any real consideration.

Moreoever, she can't pretend she isn't nervous about staying with JJ, either. Sure, she wants to spend as much time with her as she can while she's in DC, and sure, staying in her apartment would be the absolute best way to do that (unless she got a case), but that doesn't mean she's ever been able to shake her worries away. She could take JJ, probably, if it came to that, but she doesn't want to be with anyone where it would ever come to that again.

On top of that, her father is right. She doesn't know JJ from Eve, not really. She feels like she does, mostly. Sure, JJ doesn't talk about herself that much. She doesn't really talk about her upbringing or anything; Shy doesn't even know if she has family. But, she knows how JJ attentive she is, how patient, how kind, how intelligent. How funny, in a quiet, witty, quippy sort of way. She knows her core, she knows her heart.

She thinks.

She thought she knew Bryce, too, but well, Bryce was demonic. And, every time she gets to thinking about how great she thinks JJ is, the immediate after thought is, what if she is also like that? She tries not to compare, tries to tell herself that she was a kid when she met Bryce, and the writing was on the wall. She often tries to tell herself that she is older now, she has experience with that sort of thing; she tries to tell herself that she would see the signs next time so that there wouldn't actually be a next time, but would she?

Being fussed at by her parents is so annoying because they're only giving voice to all the concerns that sometimes keep her up at night. She wishes it was as simple as them merely wanting to control her. At least, if that were the case, she could fight back better.

She also doesn't want to be the only want with a flame under her ass and when she glances over at JJ, who looks extremely uncomfortable as is, she feels a twinge of guilt because the next thing she does is open her mouth to say, "And, Daddy, you embarrassing me in front of her," while motioning to the laptop screen. Jasira hates to throw her to her father, especially without heads up or prompting, but she's watched JJ's press conferences on the internet. She knows she can handle herself, and her own anxiety is spiking, so she's kind of tossed JJ in traffic a bit, but not quite under the bus.

JJ straightens her back at the direct mention of herself. Jasira's father looks down at her, and JJ smiles. It's involuntary; she's so uncomfortable. She imagines this is how the boys she went to high school with felt when they would drench their homecoming suits in sweat just before meeting a girl's parents. Jarelle pulls out the kitchen chair.

"Get this out my way," he says, motioning to the food on the table as he sits down. Shy and her mom both get to moving things around. Shy avoids her mom's eyes as she mom stares her down the entire time. Jarelle leans back in the chair, getting comfortable. JJ doesn't know if she should speak first or not. She's great at work. With grieving parents, high stressed witnesses. During press conferences. Hell, in her past relationships, she was even good with parents. She even got one of her ex's homophobic father to really like her. But, this? Her dad is staring at her the way Derek stares at child molestors, and it's taking everything in her to not squirm under his gaze. But, she's not going to. She refuses. She's never been one to cower, and her job has done nothing but reinforce that part of her. "How you meet my daughter?"

JJ's brain short circuits as certain flashbacks replay in her mind. The wrong kind of flashbacks for her to be having right now. Jasira's head turns around so fast, she hears it crack. JJ's eyes shift upwards and meet Shy's. Meanwhile, Jasira's mother is hawkeying her; Shy can feel it. Then, Jarelle lifts his chin in a way that says don't look at her, look at me, and JJ redirects her attention back to Jarelle. Jasira goes back to cooking with her mom.

JJ's mind is kind of racing. She can't exactly say, "Well, I saw your daughter gyrating across the street and then went and fucked her in the back alley." She vaguely hears Shy's mother say something to Shy in what she assumes to be Shy's native language. The look Shy gives tells her that she's just been asked the question JJ is trying to answer, diplomatically. She hasn't even really said anything yet but she already feels like she's in a minefield. Which is striking, because usually when she comes face to face with a girlfriend's parent -- the dad's, in particularly -- there's this certain air of relaxtion that comes with discovering that she's a woman. In the past, she's dated a lot of bisexual women, and she knows that when people just hear the name JJ, they assume guy. So, they're typically disarmed by her not being a guy. Being a woman makes her less of a threat. But, no. That isn't happening here. Jarelle is responding to her the same way boyfriends are responded to; it's the same aggressive weariness. It is an oddly satisyfing but equally nerve-wracking thing.

"She and I met at a bar on Bourbon Street a couple months ago, sir."

Jasira freezes because the location of where they met definitely did not need to be mentioned. She may as well have told her dad that they met in Soddom and Gamorrah. Not to say her parents purists; her father has father twenty-five children and the two of them share a girlfriend, but she's basically told them that they've slept together, even without saying it. Which is just going to give them more a reason to not trust her judgement. Now, they're going to think she's overly romanticizing things. Aurelie squints at her daughter and asks if they've slept together. Jasira turns around towards her dad rather than answering, and it just confirms what her mom already felt in her bones.

"Daddy, do you think we should load the car?"

He glances at his watch, "It ain't time, and I'm talking to ya lil friend right now."

"Mkay," she answers and swiftly turns back around. She continues to make the loaded eggs for the breakfast bowls while her mom does the beignets.

"You seen her since?" He asks.

JJ shakes her head, "No, sir, we just met that one time."

He sits up a bit, "What went down that night that you so pressed to see her again that she just gotta spend her whole trip up under you?"

But, he knows. He's got twenty-five children; he knows better than anyone the power of sex. How overly sentimental it can make people. Sex can be fun, but it can also be messy. This can be messy. His daughter's current life is messy enough with this foolish additive. He wouldn't have a problem, if this was just fun, but he's been hearing little things from his boys -- sons and grandsons. And, Shy's been different. Floating and walking on sunshine, different, and he's weary about not just her safety but her heart. Surviving everything she's survived just to turn around and have your heart broken could be devasting. He wants her joy to be hers, purely hers and uninfluenced. Joy that is your own can't be crushed.

"Well, sir, she doesn't have to do anything. She's an adult, and I'm not in the business of controlling people," JJ redirects because, again, she's not going to mention the sex thing. It's not just an uncomfortable topic of conversation, but it's also only she and Shy's business. Jasira winces a little bit continues cooking for herself and her parents. Her father clenches his jaw and JJ continues on, "To answer your question, though, we've talked and skyped every day since then, several times a day. So, yes, we've only ever physically been together that one night, but I don't feel we've ever really been apart. I just enjoyed sharing a space with her, and I am fond of her so, yes, I jumped at the chance to do it again."

She puts on one of her most disarming smiles to try and cut some of the tension. It often works at work, but she's not confident in it working now. Not when she's in her home, in her most comfortable state. It works at work because she's super feminine and pretty at work, she knows that. But, now? At almost two in the morning, in her home, there's nothing feminine about the way she presents or carries herself. She's got on boxers, a sports bra that makes her chest look almost completely flattened and a muscle shirt. She looks boyish, she knows that, and she knows that it isn't doing her any favors. Which is why she doesn't dress that way not just at work but in public.

She adds, "I understand your concern, sir, given all that she's gone through already, but I assure you, I have nothing but the best of intentions for your daughter. I promise, I won't let anything happen to her while she's here. If it would make you feel better, I can give you my address, all of my contact information," she lets out a breathless, humorless chuckle, "Hell, I would even be open to giving you the contact information for my superiors at my job. Whatever to ease yours and your wife's minds," she tells him.

Jarelle's father nods, considering her words, "Whatchu said ya name was?"

"Jennifer," JJ answers, clarifying, ignoring the fact that he hadn't ever actually asked, "Jennifer Jareau. JJ, if you'd like."

"You seem real smart, Jennifer," he tells her, "You talk a good game, you real," he pauses, trying to find the right word.

His wife cuts in, "Diplomatic," she says, fixing him a bowl to eat and bringing it over to him before doing the same for herself.

He snaps his fingers, "Yeah, that."

"Thank you, sir."

He shakes his head, "Not a compliment, 'cause you saying all the right shit, makes me trust you even less, understand? I got five grown princesses. Lotta niggas know exactly what to say, but still be foul as a mangy dog. So, yeah, Ima need allat information you just offered up 'cus this knucklehead gone come see you no matter what I say, and I already barely sleep at night. I needa be able to at least take naps," He turns sideways in his chair, "Shy, Ima just tell you this: I think that plan you made to be free and find yaself, alone, was the best thang for ya. I feel like you being stupid and you slipping down a slope you gon regret. Don't fuck around and ruin ya life 'cus you feel like you needa be up under somebody." He says, and Shy rolls her eyes, with her back still to him, of course. Because, look at the pot calling the kettle black. She wouldn't have twenty-four siblings, if he didn't always feel like he needed someone. He turns back to the laptop, and the two of the exchange numbers.

Once JJ has his, she texts him all the information she promised. Her mother spares JJ a single, almost passing glance that reeks of disapproval before before she and her father go to have their breakfast in the living room.

Shy fixes herself something to eat. JJ just smiles. It's not a big one, there are no teeth or anything. She looks tired.

"Thanks for that." she tells Shy.

"I'm sorry, I am so sorry. I felt bad like throwing you to him, but like, he was in one them modes where me just cryin' wasn't gon do shit, and I be watching ya press conferences so I knew you could handle fire."

JJ felt herself smirk as pride overtook her being, "You watch my press conferences?"

"They on youtube," she shrugs like that was just obvious. Which is wasn't. Because JJ had no idea that they were. Hell, JJ doesn't even use youtube. She wasn't really aware that anyone did. Jasira continued on, "Sometimes I just like to here you talk."

"Ah, so this is why I deal with all this," JJ chuckles and shakes her head, "I must really really like you."

Jasira perked up with that wide, cocky grin that JJ has come to always look forward to, "Well, I'm me," she says, posing with her hands under her chin. Even the way she drops her hands can be described as nothing, but princess like. "Of course, you like me."

JJ melts. It takes her back to the first time she had an uncomfortable conversation with yet another fiercely protective person in Shy's family. She remembers how nervous it made her to meet or talk to anyone else, but how talking to Jasira again, for even two seconds, made it seem worth all the grilling and discomfort. Here she is, again, thinking of how right she was to be nervous after talking to Kutty for the first time, because God. Jasira talks about her dad, often. Her mom, too, and there is no doubt at all that they are the head and neck of the whole body of Boudreauxs. She understands Jasira's little brother so much more now, but moreover, all she can think is, if they reacted in such a way, she doesn't stand a chance with everyone else. She's going to have to really prove herself.

If this was some past version of JJ or if Shy wasn't Shy, it would be in this moment that she would cut things off. She'd tell herself that work was too much as is, and she doesn't need the added headache. She'd be lying if she had she hadn't considered that now, but this is the first time in her romantic life that she hasn't wanted to wonder what if with a girl. So, she lets go of that idea almost as quickly as it comes, and she allows Jasira to catch her attention once more.

Jasira goes over the travel iternary again, for the millionth time it seems like these past few days. She's gone over so much that JJ knows it like the back of her own hand. She even has it in her blackberry. Still, she lets Jasira go over yet again. Until her mom calls for her. Not in English, of course, and now, because of how they reacted to them seeing one another, JJ feels nothing but worry in the pit of her stomach. As she's talking to her mom, her eyes glance back towards her computer screen and catches JJ's eye, shooting her a quick wink. JJ's feels butterflies dancing in her chest and belly, and Jasira refocuses solely on her mom, again. When they're finished talking, Jasira looks back at her screen.

"Okay, my Bluejay, we finna leave so see you later." She says, and they say goodbye to one another. Jasira closes her laptop once the call has ended, packing up her laptop to go before her parents could rush her anymore.

Her father is outside, leaned against the passenger door with a black and mild between his lips, waiting for her, when she finally makes it out of her front door. At the sight of his daughter, he stands upright, opening the passenger door for her. She hurries, trying to be considerate of his time. He notices the quickening in her pace and squints.

"Slow down 'fa ya fall," he warns her, "Princesses don't rush, take ya time. Me and this car gon be here when you get here."

She smiles to herself, softly as she slows her pace like she was told. He takes long swigs from his black as she walks, wanting to finish the rest of it before she makes it to him. Sure, he doesn't want her to feel rushed, but they are on a time schedule; they can spare the few extra moments it will take for her to get to the car, but they can't afford to get pulled over. Which is exactly what will happen if he doesn't finish his black and mild; they'll accuse him of smoking a blunt. When she's closer, he's ashes what he has, not satisfied, but not dwelling. He holds his hand out for her to grab, and she easily takes his cue. He guides her into the car, waiting until she's settled and comfortable to close the door behind her. He walks arounf the hood of the car and gets in himself.

He puts a mixtape Jasira made him for Father's Day back in '98; she'd said it "captured his essence". He listened to it all the time, but especially if he was around her. When she heard the first few seconds of the beat, she smiled, recongizing it and thus the tape immediately. It helped her breathe easier, knowing he wasn't mad at her. They sang along to Curtis Mayfield's Pusherman together, and everyone now and again, she would feel him look over at him, but he wouldn't say anything. His mind was filled with thoughts about that young woman his daughter seemed to interested in.

He was never really one for telling his kids what to do, especially when it came to their love lives; had any of their mother listened to their own fathers, none of his miracles would exist. But, with Jasira, things were different. She wasn't the first child, the first daughter of his to go through trying times with a shitty partner. He had put his hands on a few men or their fathers and he'd held his sons as they lived through despair from a woman. His own big sister had been killed by her boyfriend, and still, with all that experience, nothing had, could have ever fully prepared him for the sinister nature of that damned Bryson Wallace. He carried a darkness within him that words didn't exist for, and his little girl had spent four years in the clutches of Satan on his account.

They'd only been broken up for what, nine or ten months or something like that. Maybe a full year now. He couldn't be sure exactly, but he knew it wasn't long. Not nearly long enough for him to be hearing about this mystery person who had captured all her attention. A pretty blue eyed lady, his little boy Jabari had mentioned, a pretty blue eyed lady that Shy talked to through her computer all the time. She did that, instead of having the dinner she cooked for them, like she used to. It surely did a lot to explain this newfound, two month old glow she carried all the time. It explained what he thought was a change in her ringtone, only to discover that it was only one specific number that rang to the tune of Brandy's Sittin Up in My Room. She'd been skipping Sunday Family Fundays or spending all of it, on the phone or hiding somewhere with her laptop. Few weeks back, she'd made a new mixtape, of love songs, reminscient of something a teenager would make for their first boyfriend or something. She's not said anything, but she don't have to. Nobody in the family is stupid, he sure as hell isn't stupid. Not when it comes to relationships.

He hadn't meant to go as hard on her as he did back in the house. It was just, he and Aurelie had been pillowtalking their worries for weeks. So, when they pulled up to the house, and the source of their worries was just right there, they reacted. No thoughts at all, just pure emotion, and he had tried his best not to do that. He was successful only about half the time, but he always tried to make up for his failures.

It was several songs later, when they reached the causeway that he reached over, turned his radio down.

She felt her stomach turn at the newfound silence. The slight turn shifts to full on nausea when she hears him sigh.

"Breakfast was good, I appreciate ya makin' it 'fa me." He says, easing into it conversation with her.

"It was the least I could do," she said, shrugging off the compliment, "I mean, you rented us a tour bus and hired us a driver, so.." she trailed off.

He shook his head, "Y'all don't never owe me shit. I'm ya daddy, I owe y'all everything. Me renting that bus is just me being ya daddy." She hummed in response. Her dad didn't really accept outward thank you's, so she wasn't going to argue with him. It was quiet for a beat before he cleared his throat and ask, "So, uh, about ya lil friend," he says, and it's her turn to wince. She opens her mouth to defend herself yet again, but he cuts her off, "Tell me about her." She looks at him, jaw falling a bit slack. He's so much calmer now, but she can see the struggle in his face. The struggle to be neutral, but he's trying. So, that means a lot. "What's she like? Whatchu see in her?"

"She's cool. She real laidback, even when she being funny. It's more witty than like goofy."

His eyebrows furrow as his forehead creases, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. He cuts her off, "What witty mean?"

She doesn't miss a beat, "Quick, keen intelligence. So, she's like real quick with her jokes and like clever. She makes me laugh. She pays a lot of attention to me. Like, she woke up so much earlier than she usually would to help me wake up on time today 'cause I was worried about it. She's really sweet. She listens to me, she lets me teach her stuff, and she don't treat it like I'm insulting her. She's got that strong, silent thing about her that I really like. She protected me from Bryce when we first met. "

"What she do for a living?" She hesitates. He repeats himself.

"Um, she does, like, press conferences and like, handles media stuff."

"She a journalist or sumn?"

She squints, "Uh, not exactly."

"So, what she do press conferences for?"

She lets out a soft hmph. There really is no way around this. Especially not since she actually gave him the number to the Quantico. She didn't tell him anything about her profession, as she was doing so, but he could just go over their heads to call and ask. Which wouldn't be optimal.

Shy was actually hoping for them to like her before she told them that she was a fed. She thinks they would get along, and she's in a season of life in which she wants to have fun and experience joy. She's been dividing her time between her family and JJ, which directly conflicts with the joy thing. Despite not having anything serious in mind, she's tired of sacrificing time with her family to sort of spend time with JJ, so she does plan on having JJ around everyone. It would just make things easier, for when JJ has time to come visit her.

That said, JJ is going to have to win people over, and to be honest, with Jasira's relationship history looming over everyone plus them having to come to grips JJ being white was going to be difficult enough a thing for JJ to go through, but to fight through that plus fight their perception of her on account of her being a Fed just felt crushing. It wasn't giving her a fair chance at all.

"For the FBI," she forces out, and her father swerves a little bit, unintentionally, before gaining control again. She pushes herself to continue, "But, it's not like that! It's, she," she finds herself stuttering because her father's grip on the steering wheel is so tight, Jasira fears his bones might rip through his skin, "She doesn't do, like, RICO charges and that type of stuff. She and her team travel around the country and chase serial killers, that's it."

All Jarelle hears is that she would know exactly how to murder his baby girl and get away with it. He also hears that she has the connections necesary to cover it up, and he fails at concealing his emotions yet again as he roars, "That 'posed to make me feel better?!" She jumps a bit at the tone and volume of his voice so he forces it down and sighs, shaking his head. "Ion know 'bout this, I think I needa just come witchu."

"You gotta trust me at some point, Daddy. I'm sorry that y'all have to deal with Bryce because of me, but I was so young when I met him." She says, knowing they're thinking of two different ages. But, 14 and 18 are both babies, so it applies, either way.

"You only twenty-two now. You still young as hell."

"I'm sayin' an experience like that teaches you stuff. It ages you. I can handle myself. If I'm right about her, you have nothing to worry about. If I'm wrong about, well then, if I can handle Bryce, I can handle her, and I will always call you."

He sighs, "I'm jus' sayin' that love carries a lot of weight, and it's a dangerous thing. I don't want you to fall in love so fast that you lose yaself all over again. Losin' yaself in somebody don't jus' look like whatchu was going through. It also look like you wakin' up one day and realizin' you living a life to please somebody else instead of whatchu actually wanted. I don't want you rushin' makin' big choices based on how you feel. I don't want you waking up twenty years from now, feelin' like you didn't experience shit 'cause you had that nigga then jumped straight into this and didn't look back."

She huffed, face palming as she shook her head. She picks her head up, "Who said anything about love? Why you thinkin' so deep into the future? I don't wanna rush either, and I'm not going to. I'm just havin' fun, and I think JJ is a lot of fun, and I feel safe when I think about her, when I'm talking to her. That's all. You make it seem like she's put a ring on my finger or something."

"Okay, if it's jus' fun then why you blowing ya family off?" He asks and she shrinks into herself in the seat because he's pulled her card with that one, "Or, what, you thought it was too many of us to keep track of each other to peep game. Kutty nem said you don't even much eat dinner with them like you used to, say you ain't took them out on weekends like you used to. Y'all jus' chill at the house and you be on Skype all day. That sound like courting. Sound like y'all building on somethin', don't sound like pure fun to me. But, if it's jus' fun, what's up with the CD?"

She thinks of the tape she's been playing in her car obsessively for the past couple weeks or so, but she shakes her head. "I don't know whatchu talkin' bout."

"You must think I'm Boo-Boo the fuckin' Fool," he says, releasing a sharp breath from his nose he checks his mirrors, turning onto Southern's campus, where the girls' are meeting up to get on the bus, "So, you gon sit over there and pretend that Ion know that you make CDs to express yaself instead of keeping a diary? You think we ain't peep that lil puppylove mixtape that you won't stop listening to? The one witcha lil bluejay drawing on it," and she winces at the mention of it. She hadn't even made that about JJ on purpose, it just happened. "Slow the fuck down, is all I'm saying. You jus got free. You had the perfect plan to be single and do you, do that. Stick wit it. You need that."

He doesn't say anything more as he parks the car, and neither does she. As soon as the car is out of motion, he gets out, not wasting any time. She waits for him to come around and open her door, and he does. It's the first thing he does, actually. He even waits until she's out and a few feet away from the door to close it before her, and it is only then that get goes to the trunks for her bags.

She takes a moment to collect herself before she puts on a bright, excited smile to approach her girls with. A smile that they eat up. Everyone is so hype for Nationals, and they're also so excited to see her dad. And, she pretends to be shocked that they try to show their appreciation for the bus by flirting with him, even though, she's fully expected them to do that, as often as she hears stepmom jokes from them. As her father tries to field through his popularity by feigning flattery and joking back with them, Jasira sneaks away from the noise and goes to explore the tour bus. She stakes claim on a lower bunk and takes the moment to plug in her laptop.

She sends a text to JJ to see if she's still awake. About an hour and some change has gone by, so she doesn't really expect her to be. But, she hopes. Still, though, she doesn't recieve a response, and off the clock JJ is a relatively quick texter, so she's sure she's asleep.

She turns over then, curling up and closing her eyes. She'a not even been awake long and she's already exhausted. Her mind is going ten miles a minute, and she just wants after thing to stop and quiet down. She can't wait until the competition starts. Literally just yesterday, the primary thing on her mind was dance. She yearns for that to take back over.

She doesn't know how long she's been in the bus before it's filled with the commotion. Above the joyous voices of her girls, she hears her dad calling after her. She sticks her arm out of her bunk and he walks over to it and bends down, sticking his head under the curtain she's hiding behind.

"I ain't tryna control you, Princess," he mutters, "I jus," he sighs, "I don't want you to go through whatchu went through twice, and with Vaughn being..." he tries shakes the unshakeable feeling of overwhelming sickness and despair that's been living in him since his son went missing, "You being in another state with somebody I never met is scary, knowing I can't always protect you fucks me up. I jus want you to be good."

"I know," she says, reaching for her father, lacing her arms around his neck. The hug is awkward, given their positioning, his chin is resting on her forehead and her face is uncomfortably in his neck, the tip of her nose against his Adam's Apple. He kisses her forehead. She mumbles, "Ima call you every day, and if you get Kutty to teach you how to use Skype then we can have dinner and you and Mommy can have a proper conversation with her."

He pulls back with a smile, "A'ight, now, Ima hold you to that. You miss a day, and Ima send an army. Call me when you make it to DC." He leaves one last kiss atop her head before closing the curtain and standing upright, straight out the slight strain in his back so he doesn't have to suffer the ache later on. He turns around to be greeted with an audience and flashes that charming grin of his. "Aight, y'all, Ima head out, good luck witchall's competition." He says, wiggling through the group of girls, gently removing hands frrom his torso that belong to his daughter's friends. Not wanting to offend them, but still wanting to not be touched by them. He ain't a young man anymore, and the attention they gave him was flattering to know he was still handsome, but it did make his skin crawl a little bit. "Gotta get home to my women."

"You want another girlfriend, Big J?" Monica asked, only kind of joking. She tells Shy she's joking about it all the time, but she knows deep down that if Shy's dad ever tried anything, she'd let him do whatever. So, that question from her makes Jasira stick her head out the curtain. She ignored most of their jokes, but Monica was.. Monica. She got around, and she wasn't above older men. She was fucking a professor older than her dad last year, and Jasira thinks they might even still hook up from time to time. Shy doesn't judge her for it, but it definitely makes those I wanna fuck your dad jokes a little less funny coming from her. She doesn't think her dad would stoop that young, especially not with a friend of hers, but she still feels a twinge of worry because it is Monica. Even aside from her history, she was fine as silk. Jasira doesn't like girly girls, really, but if she did, even she would go for Monica. And, her dad is a whore, she'd never had an illusions about that.

"Nah, I'm more than satisified with my two very grown women," he laughed, backing away from the young ladies, "Bye." And, Jasira gets completely back in her bunk. She falls asleep to the sounds of the girls gushing over her dad.

A few hours later, she awakes and the bus is just as loud as it was when she had fallen asleep. She reaches for her phone, dials JJ's number. It's about the time JJ would wake up for work on a regular morning. A little after, actually. So, she should be getting ready, but instead, the phone goes to voicemail, and Jasira has to call three more times.

When JJ finally answers she doesn't say any actual words, but she says no words but mumbles lowly into the phone. Jasira doesn't even revel how adorable she thinks she sounds because all she can think about is how it is her own fault that JJ has overslept. How, if she had just slept the whole night instead of worrying about her, she'd be awake already. So, calls JJ's name with a soft sterness and tells her what time it is.

On the other end of her phone, JJ's eyes shoot wide open. She grabs her remote, presses the guide button and looks at the corner of her screen, and shit. She's about twenty minutes behind her usual schedule. She doesn't even rememeber when she'd fallen asleep. The last thing she remembers is hearing short La-la-la of Daria's theme song.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit," She grumbles, sandwiching her phone between her ear and shoulder as she hops up from the couch, dashing to the bathroom. "I'm gonna be late."

"I'm sorry," Jasira responds. Even though, JJ typically gets to work so early that even in her being late, she'll still technically be early. Closer to on time, but still early. Jasira hates that she's caused disruption to her schedule.

JJ stands upright, "Why?"

"You shouldn't have waken up for me. You would be on time, if you woulda just stayed sleep."

JJ frowns, shaking her head, "I thought we got past that. I wanted to wake you up, that was my choice. You don't have anything to feel bad about. Case closed." She grabs her tooth brush and turns the water on running her the brush under the water before pulling it out and running a strip of toothpaste over before putting it back in the water.

"But--"

JJ doesn't let her continue, "Case closed. I would do it all over again, for you. Even dealing with your father," and she starts brushing her teeth. Jasira doesn't say anything more because JJ often lets her have her way, but when she's set on something, she's really set. She doesn't even argue, it's just done. Not that it happens super often, but this is clearly one of those times, and Jasira doesn't really feel like she has much fight in her anyway. So, she just murmurs a nearly inaudible okay. JJ frowns at the sound of it, and rinses her mouth. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Something is. You're never this quiet."

"I," she's got their relationship or whatever this is on her mind, and she doesn't really think she's been completely clear about where she is mentally or what this is, what this can be. Everything this morning really pulled her back of the mind thoughts to the forefront, and a talk needed to be had between the two of them. She didn't think she could do it over the phone, though. "The gravity of this competition is really hitting me. This my last one ever. I'm just nervous about losing."

JJ rolls her eyes, fondly, "You're going to leave DC with a first place trophy, I am sure of it."

It makes Jasira smile. She opens her mouth to respond when her curtain is snatched open and she's met with the faces of Kyren and Christine. Christine stands up straight. "I told y'all, I told y'all when she woke up, she wasn't gon fuck wit us. She over here on the phone wit her lil boyfriend."

Jasira grits her teeth, "Not my boyfriend. Lemme talk on the phone in peace."

"Noo," Kyren whines, "This a girl's trip. You done already ruined our slumber party plan by going to stay with that nigga. So, this bus trip has to be all about us."

"Exactly, now hang up the phone." Christine demands, not really giving her a chance to do so on her own or deny the request, ripping the phone from her hands. "She'll see you when we get there, bye!"

"What is y'all's problem?" Shy huffs, swinging her feet over the bed. Kyren grabs one of her hands and Christine grabs the other, pulling her completely out of the bunk.

And, on the other end of the phone, JJ feels like she has whiplash. It takes her a minute, for a her brain to catch up so she just stands there, blinking slowly for a moment before actually setting her phone down and getting ready. After a few moments, her phone buzzes. She's got a text message from her girl, apologizing for the behavior of her friends. JJ accepts the apology with ease. It's not like she doesn't get it. She's not really spent any substantial time with her friends, either, since she and Shy started talking. Garcia's been whining into her into her voicemail for a while now, and Emily keeps asking if she's okay and telling her that she's there for her, a kind but unnessary gesture. She imagines Shy's been in a similar position. Plus, she is derailing their original plans, stealing their captain away from them. Leaving Jasira alone for the rest of her trip -- save for a few check ins here and there -- is really the least she can do.

She speeds through the rest of her routine, wanting to make a decent time still. She wears slacks and a dark blue button up with her hair pulled back today. She's not sure how late she'll be working tonight, and she doesn't want Jasira to first see her in a skirt, in the event that she leaves her job and goes straight to the hotel, which will be the likely event. The commute feels longer than usual. In part because of the silence that she was once accustomed to but isn't anymore, in part because she's already behind. She can only remedy one of those things so she presses play on her stereo, ushering in the beautiful melodies of the tape that Jasira had given her when they'd first met. It picks up somewhere in the middle. As she sings along while she drives, the commute seems that much quicker.

When she pulls into the parking lot, she pulls up next to Hotch and curses to herself before pulling her key out of the ignition. She's not much in the mood for conversation, with her coworkers in particular. It's part of why she tends to come in so early, so she doesn't have to engage with her team first thing in the morning. She wonders if she can wait him out, wonders if she doesn't call attention to herself and doesn't get out of her car, will he just get out and go inside before he notices her. She looks down at her watch, and unbeknowst to her as she does this, Hotch reaches over into his passenger seat for his briefcase and looks right at her.

When she picks her head up, checking to see if he's gotten out of his car yet their eyes to lock. She forces a smile to which he nods, politely before he gets out of his SUV. She hopes that the silent exchange would be the end of it, but it is a fruitless hope because Aaron lingers in the parking lot. She clenches her jaw upon realizing that she'll have to get out and speak; she drags her feet doing so. After she gets out and locks her car, she heads towards the building, and it is only then that he begins to head in the same direction, right along her side.

"Good morning," she says with her usual work friendliness.

"Good morning," he replies with his usual stiffness, "Late night?"

Her head snaps in his direction a bit too quickly, "I'm sorry?"

"You're tend to show up much earlier than I do, earlier than any of us."

She sighs, "Oh, right. Uh, yeah, I, uh, I guess I was more tired when I left work last night than I realized, and I slept through my first alarm."

"I have a deep respect for the amount of time you dedicate to your job. I admire how much you care," he says.

"Thank you, sir."

He continues his thought, "But, you don't have to put in as much time as you do. You're young, you should enjoy a night out some time. You don't want to wake up so deep into your career that you realize everything has passed you by."

"Oh, I don't mind the hours, sir," she assures him, "I have a good work-play balance, don't worry." She tells him and the conversation ends there, thankfully. The elevator ride is a bit uncomfortable, but it goes by quickly enough. The two of them go their separate ways upon reaching their office. She doesn't often hope for this, but she hopes that she doesn't find any urgent cases on her desk. At least, not any case that they would have to travel for. She can't think of a worse day than today to have to leave the state. She sits down at her desk with a sigh and immediately starts sifting through the files on her desk.

At some point, as she works, she glances up out of her window and sees Morgan and Prentiss coming in, laughing together. Her eyebrows furrow, not having realized that much time had gone by already. It makes her look at her clock. Seeing how much time has passed, exactly, makes her chew her lip. She wonders if now would be a good time to call Shy to check in. She doesn't want to disrupt her good time, so she sends a text instead.

Back on the back, the girls have not just awaken Jasira but completely turned her mood right side up and pulled her out of her shell. Monica's made them drinks strong enough to make the girls almost see double. The volume of the music does a damned good job of keep their driver on his toes. The tour bus has been converted into a full on party bus.

Jasira's bent over, hands on her knees, grinding against Kyren's pelvis; Karen's hands holding a healthy grip on Shy's waist while Leia waterfalls Monica's mystery concotion down Shy's throat. Jasira can't lie, she's missed this. Missed hanging out with her girls like this. She absolutely needed to be dragged out of her bunk and separted from her phone. With her father's words creeping back up in the back of her mind, she finds herself remembering all the times she's been invited out with them but ended up passing the chances by to curl up with her laptop with JJ on Skype. She's trying to think of how much of her has gone incongito over the past couple of months, and truthfully she hadn't realized she had devoted so much of her time to one person. She did need to slow down, and they do need to spend less time together.

"I missed y'all," she exclaims with a bit of rue in her voice, as well as a bit of a slur because they've been drinking for a while now. Pulling herself away from Kyren and sitting on the couch, it only then hits how dizzy the alcohol has made her. Aisha turns down the music a little bit before darting out to the kitchen area of the bus for snacks. Kyren sits on side of Shy, snuggling into her while Christine sits on the other side of her. The rest of the girls sit wherever they fit.

"I bet," Isabella says, "You been so wrapped up in that new boyfriend of yours, we don't see you at all outside of practice."

"And during, you distracted," Leia mutters, just over the music.

"I thought you was supposed to on ya hoe shit." Monica reminds her.

And she was. That was her plan. Not necessarily be all the way out there, but be open. That's what she was doing when she met JJ. That's why she fucked JJ. Well, it's why she was open to having sex that night; she was planning on it; she'd been trying to overcome her fear for sex for a few months. JJ was chosen, not just because of how she made her feel when they spoke, but because she was the complete opposite of him. Not even just energy wise, but visually. It wasn't even just about her being a girl.

She'd tried to sleep with other people before— girls, mostly —but every time, she'd feel heart pound in her chest so hard that it hurt, and when she'd search for eyes in the dark that weren't his, she'd see brown eyes and freak out. She found that it didn't matter who they belonged to sometimes. The eyes weren't the only hold up. If it wasn't that it was the similarities of their hair, their complexion, their physique. Bryce was everywhere when it came to intimacy, even when he was nowhere to be found. She'd been growing sick of it, but so many people that shared his complexion. She, as much as she loves men, also hasn't gotten to a place where she can even imagine having sex with them without her eyes tearing up, at minimum. There are so many things you can do with a woman, but with a man, there's just dick and trying to mentally disassociate penises from pain was difficult. She hates the stain Bryce has left on her, and how every (non platonic) interaction she has with a person reminds her of it.

JJ was the first person she found interest in where none of those physical reminders existed so she could actually go through with sleeping it. It was supposed to be a one time, conquer your fear of sex thing. But, then, they actually had sex and there was.. she didn't even know what. Everything felt so electric but also so comforting, so peaceful. The whole experience, felt like, a beautiful song. It was so strange. It made her understand the women in her life that much more. It made her understand why people centered so much of their beings around sexuality. If that was sex, it all made sense. Moreover, that magical feeling that JJ created within her didn't even just extend to sex. She felt it the morning after. She feels it every time they talk, that quiet storm of magic and comfort, of safety.

"I was," she says but corrects herself, "I am, but JJ is just so," she fails to find the words, "JJ makes me feel safe and we have a good time together. I got kinda caught up, but it's not like we together. I can still pull back a little bit."

"Right," Raynesha rolls her eyes, "You in the same single crew I'm in," referencing her relationship that isn't actually a relationship, but is just as restrictive.

Shy frowns at the comparison. Chuckie, the guy she's seeing, refuses to make her his girlfriend, so he can fuck everything under the stars, moon and sun but flashes out whenever she so much as smiles at another man. It isn't like that. Not that she gets a chance to defend herself.

"Since you already ruined this trip," Alicia starts.

"It's not ruined. Ima still be with y'all all day, damn."

"Since the trip is ruined," Alicia repeats, because the best activites were gonna be at night, anyway, "Don't let ya lil boyfriend ruin our travel plans after graduation."

Jasira kind of winces at their repeated use of the word boyfriend. They don't really know that she likes girls, and she's only ever referred to JJ by her name or Bluejay, mostly by Bluejay. She's not really sure how that would go over. Some of the girls have experimented, and she's fairly sure Kyren is fully lesbian and just hasn't accepted it. But, sometimes they say things that make her wonder if they would react to her genuinely liking women. So, she lets them continue to call her that until they get to the hotel. Aisha comes back to where everyone is carrying her weight in snacks.

"Bobby," referencing their bus driver, "says we finna stop for gas soon." Aisha tells them.

Jasira gets up, realizing that a considerable amount of time has passed. She stands a bit too fast because she almost can't find her footing. But, Kyren steadies her.

"Where you goin?" Nique asks her.

"I'm finna go update my daddy," she says because she knows it's an answer they'll accept. It's also the truth. She just has to text JJ first.

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━ NEXT CHAPTER

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━ TABLE OF CONTENTS

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━ PREV. LONG DISTANCE

#CHAPTERS #RO PRESENTS: UNDER THE NEW ORLEANS STARS #jennifer jj jareau #jennifer jareau #jennifer jareau x oc #jennifer jareau x fem!black!oc #jennifer jareau x black!oc #jennifer jareau x fem!oc #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #jennifer jareau x reader #jennifer jareau x fem!reader

21 notes · View notes