#you can tell that these are from 2017 because the sweater in the first one is now deceased :')

[tahitiwoke]

five times kissed Or Else please 🥰

ONE | NOV. 2017.

you stare too much. she says as she fixes her earring; there is a glance over at him as he tucks his shirt back into his pants, watching indulgently as he buckles his belt, the trace of annoyance in the cut of her jaw easing. she tells him he stares as if it's supposed to cower him, as if he's supposed to prostrate and worry about it, as if he's supposed to give a single fuck about what jane davis may or may not think she's seen.

there must have been something in his scoff because she drops her hands and pivots on a heel to face him fully, the click of a heel meeting the concrete floor. i have neither the time nor the inclination to play negotiator with jane - so reel it in.

her tone is serious enough that he acquiesces. as he finishes the loop of his tie, she stops her ascent of the spiral metal staircase to lean down over the railing, a hand dropping to grip his tie and tug him to her in a deep, rare kiss that smacks of good boy.

TWO | APRIL. 2018.

it's easter sunday and he doesn't come into the office right away, instead choosing to attend the mass at the cathedral of matthew the apostle. he attends confession too, but it's only short and he talks about sin and liars and whether he is trading his soul for a comfortable life. the father assures him it's relative and not for the first time in his life, he zones out.

( he's thinking about a woman, not god, and he does try so hard to be present when in a place of worship; on the way out he makes the sign of the cross and thinks if jesus really was fucking mary magdalene, maybe he'll forgive phil for thinking about any other than the resurrection. the guilt haunts over his shoulder the long walk back to the west wing and he says a hail mary along the way just to be sure he at least makes some sort of effort. )

when he arrives, however, it's not the office he finds himself drawn to on the quiet sunday like he'd planned, it's to the residency. he takes the stairs slowly and quietly and finds her in the kitchen. where have you been she asks and he answers honestly, " in confession. " she laughs at the answer, clearly not believing him, and smirks through a derisive you don't strike me as a man of god. he shrugs. lets it go. she is not the first to make the assumption, it will not be the last time.

as she crosses back around the island, he notices she's wearing a sweater -- soft, cashmere at a glance, the sort that wraps around you like a hug and her skirt is one he hasn't seen before. dark navy. no shoes. she looks... content. armorless. she moves to walk past him and he cannot resist catching her by the waist and tugging her close, a hand slipping to the back of her neck, kissing her as easily as melting into a warm bath.

THREE | OCT. 2018.

there's a bite at his shoulder and another at his side and another on the inside of his thigh, matching the angry purple love bite she'd sucked into the column of his throat that is going to be painfully obvious. frankly, he's marked from head to fucking toe. the smug, self-satisfied look on her face tells him she's done all of it on purpose and is pretty fucking happy with her work.

you look used, she says, teeth tugging at his earlobe as she slips her hands into his hair. he doesn't know how to respond to that - too preoccupied with the bolt of arousal that passes through him at lightning speed - and instead settles for kissing the skin he can reach, her throat, her shoulder, her breasts, and christ, he wants to press her into the mattress and make marks of his own.

( not allowed. a firm boundary. he can suck love bites into her thighs, her breasts, but never anywhere somebody might see and question. and he's reminded of just how much he cannot do whenever some ambassador makes a flirty joke or carroll march slings his arm around her for a photo op. )

" does this sudden desire to shake me like an etch a sketch have anything to do with the intern i was talking to today? " the one that had asked him if he wanted to catch a drink sometime, an exchange claire definitely heard. i like you, phillip, i don't like you that much. but she's pressing back down to kiss him.

FOUR | AUGUST. 2020.

he's exhausted by the time he gets to the residency and stinks of cheap beer, onion rings and nora's over zealous application of perfume. she'd been so excited to see him so he can forgive the way it'll take forever to get out of his leather seats; it doesn't matter. enough people have seen them together. (there's a tug of guilt and horror at having used her that way but it's necessary, an unavoidable evil for the overarching greater good and he's always been the best at distinguishing one from the other. this he can do and it's with practiced ease, no matter how greasy it makes him feel.)

the film of death and disgust which has crawled over him doesn't ease up when he sees her. it's fine. he can be fine about this. there is not a trace of blood on him but after years out of the game, it feels so much like he's been swimming in it, the backslide is vicious and unforgiving, chris's half-scared, half-awed you're a sinister motherfucker, you know that? and phil had played it off a joke at the time, thinking for the short time that this is what he had been put on earth to do: bad things, dirty things, awful things.

claire touches his cheek and asks is everything taken care of? a simple question for a complicated answer but phil nods but says little more than, " how's our boy? " there won't be an autopsy, there won't be an investigation. it'll be open and shut and that'll be the end of it. claire tells him about chris and that he'd followed the instructions phil gave him to the letter and it's good. it's fine. at some point, she leans up and kisses him, at the corner of his mouth, overly aware of the presence of a warm body elsewhere in the house and a still present reluctance to reveal themselves. thank you, phillip.

FIVE | SEPTEMBER. 2020.

somewhere between frustration and anger and resentment and fear and guilt and whatever else they are trying to lay at one another's feet, in the middle of a particularly vicious argument, they end up kissing. it's not pleasant. it's not the normal sort, not even when they're feeling their most internally destructive, this is something else. something close to hitting a boundary.

he grips her hips enough to hurt. he knows, he hears it in her gasp, hears it in the way she hisses as her back meets stone wall, and she doesn't seem to mind when he just tugs her underwear to the side and enters her in a single thrust. it's a quick fuck. hard, up against the cold stone wall of a basement, not far from a cigar burn from years ago. she scrambles at his shoulders and slaps him once, to make him angry and when it doesn't have the desired effect, she yanks at his hair and pulls his lip between her teeth.

#im saying they fuck even when they're not talking #we thought it was the truman balcony #but it was not #halechief #WHICH HURTS AND IS DESIRED. #save.

[bestteeshops]

#2022NCAABaseballNationalChampionsOleMissRebelsshirt

[besteeshops]

#2022NCAABaseballNationalChampionsOleMissRebelsshirt

[liesonthefloordramatically]

While going through my sketchbook I found a couple of old (circa 2017) queer futurity memes that I apparently never uploaded so here they are.

#I deposit these gently on the ground for aceadmiral and then vanish once more into the ether #you can tell that these are from 2017 because the sweater in the first one is now deceased :') #I miss it every day...my beautiful emerald sweater.... #back when UNIQLO made clothes in jewel tones instead of just pastels and beige :')))))) #Queenie actually says something on this blog #queer futurity #wow there are probably people following this blog who have never seen a queer futurity meme? welcome

[hikari-kaitou]

Capcom’s Official AA Fanclub Surveys - Main Series Edition

Naturally, Capcom’s official AA fanclub site didn't only post surveys about the DGS characters; they published far more of them about the main series characters. It makes sense, as they started the trend before the DGS series had even been conceived.

Back in the old days, they used to hold a survey on Capcom’s official AA fansite every few months where they’d write about the seasonal activities of a handful of characters and ask fans to vote for the funniest/most pleasant/strangest/etc answer.

They stopped doing them in like… 2016? 2017? The original text is lost for good as far as I can tell. Even the wayback machine couldn’t help because the content was password locked and you can’t get past the password wall while remaining in the archived version.

Fortunately, I saved some of my translations of them so I thought I’d share them. Unfortunately, I was doing these translations very casually and only intended to share them with two of my close friends at the time when I did them, so some of them are just summaries rather than proper translations, and I tended to only focus on characters that we personally were interested in or scenarios that we thought were funny or interesting. That means there are parts missing, and because I didn't expect the original text to be wiped off the site I didn't save it so I could go back and fill in the blanks. Sorry about that...

Cut for length!

"Spring is on its way and each of the AA cast members spent their day off in different ways. Who's way of spending their day off sounds the most pleasant?"

Phoenix- he finished unpacking his moving boxes and sorting his seasonal clothing. While he was packing away his ugly pink sweater and such, he happened across the complete works of Shakespeare at the bottom of one of the boxes, got completely absorbed in reading, and ended up abandoning his unpacking.

Mia- She went shopping at a department store for a new summer suit. On her way, she coincidentally ran into Maya, who was on her way to the agency to hang out, but then at some point Maya vanished. Mia tried calling her cell phone but she didn't answer. "Don't tell me she's lost at her age," Mia thought, and began to search for her. She found Maya transfixed by a rooftop Steel Samurai show. It seems that she was both exasperated and relieved.

Maya- she tagged along on Mia's shopping trip, but the second she spied a poster for a rooftop Steel Samurai show, she made a beeline for the roof. She got into a cheering battle with a mean-looking elementary school boy and really enjoyed the show. When the show was over, she reunited with an exasperated looking Mia. She gleefully led Mia to a burger restaurant so they could eat some burgers together.

Edgeworth- he treated himself to a drive along the coast in his red sports car... Well, that was the plan, but then he was pushed by his mentor Von Karma into being the driver for his shopping trip. As a reward for his service, he received a brand new Von Karma style, stylish and flashy summer suit.

Then there's Larry, who dragged Phoenix to a café to hit on its hot owner, and the judge who bought a wig.

"Apollo, Fulbright, Edgeworth, Klavier and Kristoph made visits to a nursery school near the courthouse. Which of them did the most pleasant activity with the children?"

Apollo acted out the story of the “Crying Red Ogre” for the children. Phoenix played the part of the blue ogre, and Apollo was the red ogre, and Apollo’s wailing moved the children to tears too. In a panic over all the crying, they got Trucy to cheer them up with a magic trick in which she made Apollo disappear.

Fulbright: He came dressed in a blinding white costume to teach the children about justice and put on a play. The children gave him thunderous applause... But when Jinxie, who had been forced to play the part of the heroine, saw Fulbright, she thought he was the ghost of an army general, got scared, and slapped a charm on his face.

Edgeworth and Gumshoe: He and Gumshoe were going to reenact the story of Kintarou (an old Japanese fairytale). Franziska handed Edgeworth the Kintarou costume she’d designed (If you've seen Ghibli's Spirited Away, recall what Bou, the giant baby, wears. That's what we're talking about here). Edgeworth fearfully asked “You... expect me to wear this...?” Gumshoe, who had painted his whole body black to play the role of a bear, told him “Of course, sir! It doesn’t fit me!” and shoved Edgeworth out on stage in it. Edgeworth quickly began to reconsider Gumshoe’s salary for next month.

Klavier and Kristoph: Kristoph started giving a boring lecture on the importance of law, and the kids were getting antsy. Seeing this, Klavier came over with his guitar to liven things up, performing a rock style arrangement of the “The Bear Went Over The Mountain". But then he threw in the unnecessary comment of “If any of you scratch the frets of my guitar, I’ll be suing for damage of property, ok?” And they both ended up getting kicked out.

"This survey is about who knows how to enjoy a sunny day at Gourd Lake the best"

Simon: To give Taka some exercise, Blackquill took him and Fulbright (who was on guard duty) out for some falconry. Things were going well until Taka heard something about this mysterious creature “Gourdy,” freaked out, flew into the little shop selling Gourdy merchandise and started making a huge mess. Blackquill and Fulbright gathered Taka up in a panic and hightailed it out of there as fast as they could.

Edgeworth had seen Phoenix home and on his way back passed by Gourd Lake. Just as he was starting to get bad flashbacks... he happened to hear Larry in the middle of a flirting attempt and got dragged in. The woman he was trying to put the moves on was a foreigner, and she and Edgeworth started chatting in her native language. Larry couldn’t understand and was annoyed that Edgeworth was apparently moving in on his target, so he sulked and blew up at Edgeworth.

Athena tried to play matchmaker for Apollo and Juniper, so she told them to meet her in the forest near Gourd Lake so that they would run into each other there and hopefully hit it off. Juniper got there first, expecting to find Athena, but when Apollo showed up, she panicked and hid behind a tree. While she was trying to gather her nerve to go talk to him, he wandered off and she lost sight of him.

Phoenix was at the park and he got caught by Larry who was doing his part time job of selling Samurai Dogs. Larry saw a pretty lady that he wanted to flirt with so he asked Phoenix to mind the shop while he was gone. Business was slow, so he called in all the WAA members to put their full range of skills to use. They seem to have managed to sell them all!

Gumshoe took Missile for a walk in the park. They stopped for a rest and Gumshoe fell asleep, so Missile slipped out of his collar and ran over to where the Samurai Dogs were being sold. He ate them all without Phoenix noticing. Phoenix handed things back over to Larry when he got back and Larry got in huge trouble for losing so much product.

"This survey is talking about how the cast spent their Valentines Day"

Trucy gave Polly chocolate for himself and some for Klavier and asked Apollo to give it to him for her. Klavier wasn’t in court when Apollo went to look for him, though, so he and Phoenix went to the prosecutors’ office together with their chocolate. On their way, though, Apollo found himself getting a lot of strange looks from Themis Legal Academy students.

Ema gave some chocolates to Phoenix to give to Edgeworth because she suddenly got called to a crime scene. Phoenix headed over to the prosecutors’ office but Edgeworth was in court and wasn’t there, so Phoenix waited out in front of the prosecutors’ office with this flashy, girly looking bag of chocolates. Edgeworth’s trial ended up going a long time and Phoenix got a lot of stares as he waited.

Edgeworth was hit by a pollen-filled spring breeze on his way back to the office and suddenly his eyes got all red and itchy and he was left sneezing and sniffling. Phoenix came to talk to him and got quite a surprise when he saw the state Edgeworth’s face was in. The chocolates Ema gave him were in the shape of the Steel Samurai and they made Edgeworth so pleased that it seemed to ease his suffering a little.

Flower Viewing:

Phoenix and Apollo go to the park early to hold flower viewing spots for the WAA members. They see some people from around town that they know who ask them to hold their spots while they go and grab this or that. Phoenix and Apollo do their best to hold those people’s spots and in the process lose their own. They end up begging Edgeworth to let them share his and Klavier’s spot.

White Day:

Because of his painful memories about Valentine’s Day from elementary school, he doesn’t like Valentine’s Day or White Day that much. As a return gift to his beloved daughter, he gave her painstakingly handmade magic panty shaped chocolates. Apparently he forced the ones that didn’t turn out on Edgeworth...

Klavier was holding a ladies only concert, which he invited Trucy to. Phoenix was worried about letting Trucy be out at night by herself, so he sent Apollo along in disguise (as a woman!!). But Klavier saw through Apollo’s disguise easily and to Apollo’s horror, called him up on stage.

Autumn/Moon Viewing:

Phoenix, Edgeworth and Larry went to collect chestnuts together. Larry was too focused on looking for chestnuts and not watching where he was going and fell down the mountain slope. Phoenix had tried to catch Larry but he ended up falling too and spraining his ankle slightly. Edgeworth had to carry Phoenix on his back down the mountain.

Apollo went moon viewing with the rest of the WAA. It turned out into kind of an office party and Apollo had drink after drink while assuring everyone that “I’m fine!” but ended up getting pretty hammered. He proceeded to pass out and Phoenix took care of him.

Obon Festival:

Klavier performed a bonfire festival dance version of the Guitar’s Serenade at the summer festival and Apollo provided the taiko drum backup. He filled the gaps in the taiko drumming with his chords of steel, and it was a very energetic bonfire dance.

Edgeworth noticed the festival going on on his way home from work and decided to have a look. He saw Phoenix selling Samurai Dogs and desperately wanted one, but couldn’t bear the thought of Phoenix finding out that he was a Steel Samurai fan. He hemmed and hawed in front of the festival stall, trying to decide whether to buy one, but they sold out before he could make up his mind.

Phoenix went to the festival with Maya. Larry, who was working the Samurai Dog stand, called them over and forced them to watch the stand while he made a booty call. Phoenix and Maya’s manzai comedy duo style vocal advertising was so successful that they quickly sold out.

Christmas:

Phoenix, Trucy, Athena, Apollo and Pearl all spent the night at the office after their party wrapped up. Phoenix put presents next to the kids' pillows during the night.

Edgeworth grumbled about having to play Santa but dressed up anyway and snuck in at night to bring the younger ones at Phoenix's office some presents. He accidentally ends up sneaking into Phoenix’s room instead.

Apollo wanted to be a good big brother to Trucy and Pearl, so he snuck into their rooms to leave gifts but tripped over something, let out a Chords of Steel volume shout as he fell and ruined the surprise/

Klavier, as a favor to Trucy, snuck in dressed as a Visual Kei style Santa, but he announced his arrival with a rock arrangement of Santa Claus is Coming to Town and got caught and kicked out.

Blackquill had to make a jailbreak in order to play Santa, was chased down and Phoenix woke to find the police surrounding his office.

DGS Edition

#ace attorney #phoenix wright #miles edgeworth #maya fey #mia fey #larry butz #simon blackquill #apollo justice #klavier gavin #kristoph gavin #dick gumshoe #manfred von karma #franziska von karma #trucy wright #athena cykes #taka #bobby fulbright #missile #ema skye #my translation #translations #official content

[hermannsthumb]

I have a fun prompt I've been thinking about I hope you have time for one day! When Newt and Hermann meet actually things go really really well and they even get together. It's just they bicker so much and have huge science-based arguments that everyone assumed they must have hated each other on sight.

sure thing! i had fun with this one

----

"So," Newt says. "I was talking to Tendo today."

Across the mess table, Hermann hums in feigned interest. Newt knows it's feigned 'cause Hermann doesn't stop either thing he's doing: using his left hand to wind noodles around a fork, and using his right hand to scribble away a series of lengthy equations on the back of a paper napkin. His full attention has been hopping between both for about ten minutes now—no room for Newt to slip in there. He's testing his limits enough as it. Half of the last equation ended up scratched into the tabletop, and the last time he lifted his fork to his mouth, it was empty. And then he swallowed anyway. Newt kinda loves the guy.

"Yeah," Newt says, deciding to continue like Hermann responded the way he was actually supposed to respond, which would've been something along the lines of what an utterly fascinating story, Newton, do tell me more. I love hearing you talk, Newton. How marvelously smart you are, Newton, and how melodic and breathtaking your voice is. Now watch me bite down on an empty fork again. "Kinda funny. He was asking how we met."

Hermann finally looks up at Newt suspiciously over the rims of his glasses, which are slipping slowly down his nose. He stills them with the tip of his index finger before they land in his dinner. "Why?"

"I don't know, man," Newt says. "He just was. It was like, small talk, you wouldn't get it. He dropped by the lab when you were out this morning to let me know that there was extra space if we wanted it. Like, lab space." Hermann resumes scratching an equation into the table absently. Newt rolls his eyes. "As in, we could have separate labs if we wanted now."

Hermann knits his eyebrows together. "Separate laboratories?"

When Newt and Hermann first started at the Hong Kong Shatterdome, the k-scientist team was pre-existing and significantly bigger, and anyone who joined on later—like, you know, them—basically got shoved in wherever they fit. For Newt and Hermann, that happened to be Laboratory Space D, Basement Level 1 (the only basement level), along with a former marine biologist who was killed on a research excursion a month later when a kaiju made unexpected landfall, like, right on top of their chosen shelter. Bad luck. Anyway, Newt's known about the existence of other Hong Kong Shatterdome lab spaces in the vague and absent sort of way that you would an urban legend, but (similarly so) he never thought he and Hermann would actually ever lay eyes on one. And then Tendo stopped by to dangle it in front of Newt on a stick.

"The other labs were being used as storage for ages after everyone else—" Newt searches for a word tasteful enough to encapsulate got stomped by a kaiju and wised up and decided to live out what are probably our last few days before the world ends with their families instead of alone in a military bunker. "—left. Anyway, Tendo told me they've been going through shit like crazy this month, I think to see if they can salvage any old tech, and that the other labs are basically totally emptied out now. We just have to ask and they're ours."

Hermann sets down both his pen and fork, twisting his mouth contemplatively. He finally loses the battle against gravity with his glasses, and they miss his plate by an inch, swinging back on their chain and bouncing harmlessly against his chest instead. Newt briefly wonders if getting a chain for his own glasses would save them from their frequent fatal falls into kaiju organ cavities and buckets of non-neutralized kaiju blood, but decides not even the money he'd save on replacement pairs would make a fashion faux pas like that worth it. "You know I don't much fancy the basement," Hermann says.

"Your joints," Newt agrees. The damp of the basement sets Hermann's joint pain off frequently, something Hermann talks about just as frequently. Newt's not really a fan of the basement either, though for different reasons—he would kill to get some windows and natural, non-fluorescent light in there. Sun lamps can only do so much. He's pretty sure he'd fucking glow if he stepped outside right now. Also, it's cold down here.

"And it might be nice to be closer to LOCCENT, in case of an emergency," Hermann continues. "And closer to—oh, hang on. What has this got to do with us?"

"Huh?"

"How we met," Hermann says. "You said, that Tendo asked—"

"Oh," Newt says. It's his turn to play coy. He stirs his chopsticks through his own dinner, accidentally flicking a piece of tofu to the table. It lands on top of Hermann's etched equations. Hermann scowls, because that's how their routine goes: Newt gets Hermann's stuff dirty, and Hermann gets mad. "Well. It was just that Tendo was like you can finally be out of each other's hair, how the hell did you guys get stuck together anyway when you obviously can't stand each other, that kind of stuff."

"Ah," Hermann says.

"And I said that it was because we knew each other before," Newt says, "and that we transferred here together. And that's when he asked."

"And what did you say?" Hermann says.

"That we used to correspond professionally," Newt says, "and met at a conference way back in 2017." He adds, with a grin, "Also professionally."

This was technically true. Newt and Hermann did write to each other, professionally, and they did meet at a conference, professionally, but what went down after a long and public shouting match in the events hall of a very nice hotel—in Hermann's room, five floors up in that very nice hotel—was not very professional. The events of the week that followed—spent, intermittently, between Hermann's hotel room, several coffee shops, a bench under a tree in Newt's favorite park, a rotation sushi restaurant, brushing knees shyly on the tram, and, finally, clasping hands on the staircase of Newt's apartment and gazing deeply into each other's eyes—weren't very professional, either, but Newt likes to think that they were very romantic. Rom-com level shit. Newt revealed none of this to Tendo, who referred to the 2017 conference as that Infamous Day for the rest of their conversation. "Well, it was professional," Hermann sniffs.

But he reaches across the table, and, very timidly, crosses his pinkie over top of Newt's. It's the most blatant form of PDA Hermann ever willingly engages Newt in. Newt thinks if he ever tried to touch two fingers at once in anywhere but the lab, or God forbid, hold his whole hand, Hermann's ears might start emitting steam like something out of a cartoon. "It might be nice," he says again.

Laboratory Space D, Basement Level 1, is unique—Newt knows—in that Newt and Hermann's quarters are connected to it directly. None of the other labs have that luxury (and Newt has a feeling it's because Lab Space D wasn't actually intended as a lab space). He remembers being told that when they were shoved into it. Yeah, you have the darkest and tiniest lab space on base, but your rooms are right there! When Newt wants to go to Hermann's room, or if he's in Hermann's room and needs a sweatshirt or something from his own, he just has to step the three feet between their two doors. Moving labs could throw a wrench in that—they might be asked to move quarters, too, and might be shuttled to opposite sides of the Shatterdome, and though they could just bite the bullet and request couple's quarters already, it's nice to have their own spaces when they need it. That would never work. And, well, besides—the lab, their lab, feels like home to them at this point. Newt shrugs.

"On the other hand," Hermann says, and he taps Newt's pinkie lightly, "I quite like how things are. I can live with the damp, really."

"We can get a dehumidifier," Newt offers.

Hermann nods, and he gives Newt the barest hint of a smile.

Their monthly delivery of lab supplies—whatever they can afford with their shoestring budget, which, these days, mostly means chalk, rubber gloves, and nice instant ramen—comes three weeks later. Newt wouldn't exactly call the Shatterdome delivery guy a friend, seeing as he has yet to divulge his name to Newt (and also Newt's pretty sure he has a thing for Hermann, since he always seems to wait until Hermann is in the lab to stroll by with his package trolley and always calls him Dr. Gottlieb with big stupid heart eyes, oh, Dr. Gottlieb, that new sweater looks soooo nice on you!, so anyway, that makes him Newt's rival by default), but he, at least, recognizes and acknowledges Newt at this point. That's more than Newt can say for most people on the base. After his usual greeting to the two of them (hey, Newt, oh, hellllooo, Dr. Gottlieb, did you do something new with your hair?), he starts to unload their packages, also like usual.

"I was surprised to see that you guys are still down here," he tells Newt, not like usual. "Tendo mentioned something about you getting your own labs."

"He did?" Newt says, meaning to frown, but grinning instead. It's kind of fun to be the subject of gossip. He pulls off his gloves and tosses them in the trash to help with their supplies—the dehumidifier he requested should be in there, and it's fancy and definitely on the bigger side.

"Yeah," their delivery guy continues. He hands Newt a fuckin' massive brick of a package. Hermann's stupid chalk. The amount that Hermann tears through in a month really is astounding: Newt has a private theory that Hermann is an undercover space alien from a planet where chalk constitutes all of the primary food groups, and he secretly sneaks out here and eats it in the dead of night when Newt is asleep. "Anyway, sorry I'm late," the delivery guy says, as Newt imagines Hermann crunching on a piece of chalk like a carrot stick, "I went to all the other labs first."

"No worries, dude," Newt says. "Sorry for the confusion."

He lugs the package over to Hermann's desk, and drops it down on the only spot not over-cluttered with papers and books. Hermann complains about Newt's messiness a lot for a guy who is just as bad, if not worse. "Need any now?" Newt asks Hermann.

Hermann, scribbling away at his chalkboard, grunts. Newt decides that's a no.

"Hard at work, Dr. Gottlieb?" the delivery guy says, practically fluttering his eyelashes.

Another grunt. Newt snorts.

"I thought you guys would've moved right away," the delivery guy (obviously disappointed at Hermann's lack of attention) tells Newt. "Tendo mentioned you've been stuck together for a while, ever since some sort of dramatic confrontation at a conference ten years ago." he adds eagerly, "Did you really get thrown out? I don't know how you haven't killed each other yet."

"It's taken a lot of hard work," Newt says. Yeah, the whole being-ejected-from-the-conference-and-barred-from-all-future-ones-forever thing is technically true too, but everyone there was too stuffy and serious for Newt's fun vibes anyway, so he thinks it's their loss. The most important part of the scientific breakthrough process, Newt frequently thinks, was having someone there to challenge you and push back at you. Sometimes loudly. And in public. In the conference hall of a very expensive hotel, in front of all of your scientific peers, some hotel security guards, and a poor graduate student who made the mistake of asking you and your penpal-colleague for your joint opinion on something and got caught in the crosshairs. Besides—out of everyone at that stupid conference, Newt and Hermann were the only ones snapped up by the PPDC, so it's doubly their loss. "And, yeah, we got thrown out. Me and Hermann fight a lot, but we always make up eventually. It's no big deal. It's, like, our thing."

"Make up?"

Newt waggles his eyebrows and doesn't elaborate. The making up part is the best part of arguing with Hermann, honestly, but he's not about to go giving private details about stuff like that to his rival.

By the time Hermann finally descends his ladder, three hours have passed, and Newt is frowning over an email he's just gotten from Shatterdome HR. Hermann will probably see it in a second when he checks his own email—it was sent to both of them, after all—but Newt waves him over to his desk anyway. "Look," he says.

He draws out the spare chair he keeps by his desk (for Hermann), and Hermann drops into it gratefully, propping his cane up against the arm. Then Hermann pushes his glasses up onto his nose and scans the email with a frown of his own. Newt reads it aloud for him anyway. "'Subject: Quarters Reassignment,'" he says. "Dear Drs. Geiszler and Gottlieb: It has recently come to our attention that you will be transferring to Laboratories A&B. Should you wish to transfer quarters as well, you will find the necessary paperwork..."

"By Jove," Hermann groans, and pulls his glasses off again, smudging a bit of chalk on his cheek, "can't they just leave us alone?"

Newt laughs. "I'll tell them we're not interested. Wait, listen to this bit at the end: Congratulations—this must be a relief! Guess they were getting your complaint forms after all, Hermann." Both Newt and Hermann had long-since assumed that any and all official complaint forms stamped with a k-sci lab return address are filed right into the garbage. It's never deterred Hermann from sending them in, though.

"Hmph," Hermann says.

Newt carefully rolls his shirtcuff back down to his wrist and uses it to rub off Hermann's chalk smudge. When it's gone, or at least, mostly gone, he brushes his fingers back through Hermann's short hair. Hermann's eyelids flutter shut, and as he leans into Newt's touch, his creased forehead smooths just a little. "Mm. You're lovely," he murmurs. "We really ought to tell them we're married. It's gone on long enough."

"I guess," Newt says. "But it's kind of funny, isn't it?"

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

@a-reader-and-a-writer requested: 19. Putting up the Christmas tree

Romanticgumchewer's Christmas Spectacular - DAY ONE - Merry Christmas, Rick Flag (Rick Flag x OC)

Summary: Rick doesn't really feel in the Christmas spirit and Delphia, certified Christmas spirit expert, is willing to do anything to get him in the mood.

Pairing: Rick Flag x OC (Delphia Holman)

Word Count: 2015

Warnings: flufff, language, grief mention, rick and dee are so in love it hurts

Timeline: December 2017

if i go masterlist

A/N: please look at the timeline date before reading, all of these Christmas pieces are taking place different years!

It was officially December first. Christmas music was starting to play in the supermarket and lights had been strung up all over downtown. But Rick Flag couldn’t have felt farther away from that Christmas spirit feeling.

Waller had him absolutely swamped with work. New recruits for the Task Force, writing up new reports over missions that were completed months ago, and general office drudgery that could have been done by anyone else — but no, it just had to be him. He had a sneaking suspicion it was payback for what happened at the Halloween Party. But he really couldn’t be sure of anything with Waller. Plus, on top of that, it was December and it was only fifty degrees outside. He remembered fondly those Maryland winters, with snow up to his thighs and icy roads that caused weeks' worth of snow days. His mom would make her famous hot chocolate and dry his snow-soaked socks over the fire.

His mom loved the Christmas season. It had been thirteen years since her passing, and it was always this time of year that he missed her the most.

But it was Saturday. He wasn’t in the office and neither was Delphia. It had been a slow morning full of bedroom cuddles and fresh baked cranberry and orange muffins for breakfast. Now he sat on the couch, sipping the last of his coffee and reading the news on his phone while Delphia showered.

She came out with her red hair slightly damp and a smile on her face, wearing a big cable-knit sweater and bicycle shorts. Rick grinned gently back as he set down his phone.

“Alright, whaddaya wanna do today, babe?” Delphia asked as she sank into the couch beside him.

“Oh, I don’know, baby girl,” he sighed, smoothing a hand over her bare thigh, “I just feel…real tired.”

“You sleep okay?” she asked as she threaded the hairs at the back of his head through her fingers.

“Yeah, slept fine. This week was just…a lot.”

“Hmm, sorry, baby.” She planted a soft kiss on his cheek. “I think I know what’ll make you feel better though.”

“What?” he chuckled.

“Helping me make Christmas cookies!”

She lept from the couch with a wide grin and hopped over to the kitchen. He should’ve known this was going to happen. He hadn’t let her start with the Christmas stuff as soon as Halloween was over — telling her she had to wait until at least after Thanksgiving. But now it was December first and Delphia could no longer contain her Christmas spirit. It was bursting out of her all at once and Rick nearly felt bad for how Scrooge-like he felt. He really didn’t want to help make cookies — no matter how delicious her recipe was. It was like there was this weight sitting on this shoulders, holding him down and creating a sinking feeling in his chest. And he didn’t want to ruin her fun by being grumpy the entire time he helped her.

So he came up with the excuse: “S’alright, baby girl. Think m’gonna take a shower.”

“Oh.” Delphia turned from the mixing bowl with a slightly disappointed look on her face. “Okay. Well, you can help me decorate after?”

“Sure.”

Delphia watched him walk back to the bathroom with a furrowed brow. Something was up with him. She knew that Waller had been down his throat the past week, absolutely because of what happened at the Halloween party. But there was something else there that she couldn’t quite pick out. A kind of sadness that she couldn’t place.

And what greater way to make him feel better than spreading a little Christmas cheer?

With a determined look in her eye, she turned on the mixer to cream the butter and sugar and then turned on the Christmas music. The holiday season was the best time of the year, in her opinion. The lights, the scents, the snow (even though they didn’t get any in Louisiana), the joy, the giving. Every Christmas ever since she could remember she had a hand in decorating, baking, cooking, gift wrapping, carolling, getting everyone to go to the Christmas market no matter how freezing it was. Which made Delphia into a certified Christmas spirit expert. So she formulated a plan.

The perfect plan to get Rick Flag into the Christmas spirit.

The first step ultimately failed. After his shower he did help her decorate the cookies with the piping bags full of multicolored frosting. But he wasn’t as into it as she thought he would be. He decorated a handful, creating messy Christmas trees and Santa hats, but after that he gave up. Opting instead to just eat the cookies and watch her make her delicate little designs.

Then the second step also failed. Once the cookies were iced she dragged him over to the couch and put on his favorite Christmas movie: The Muppet Christmas Carol. At first he laughed at the jokes and mouthed along to the songs. But eventually he lost interest. About a quarter of the way through the film he picked up his phone and never looked at the television again. Delphia sighed as she watched him scrolling through Twitter out of the corner of her eye.

Well this was not going how she thought it would at all.

She sighed, eyebrows pinched together, as she turned her eyes back to the movie. But she wasn’t paying attention to it anymore either. What else could she do to help him feel better? She could feel it sitting next to him. That weight that was holding him down. It broke her heart that he felt that way. But it couldn’t have been just Waller’s attitude that caused him to be like this. They both had been working for her for years — he was used to it by now. There had to be something else.

“Rick, baby?” she asked quietly, placing her hand on his thigh and giving it a squeeze.

“Hmm?” he hummed back, finally looking up from his phone.

“What’s really goin’ on?”

He sighed as he pulled a hand through his hair. “Nothin’ baby girl, just tired.”

“Oh, that’s bullshit and you know it.” She gave him a look. “Come on — I wanna help.”

Rick stared at her for a moment, hazel eyes swimming with something she couldn’t quite place. Maybe a mixture of embarrassment and uncertainty. This was only their second Christmas together as a couple. What if he actually didn’t like any of this stuff and he had only been faking the year before to spare her feelings? That would be a huge bummer. Could she actually even be with someone who didn’t like Christmas?

“God, this’s so stupid. I’m a grown ass adult.” Delphia’s heart sank at his words. Oh, no. “My mom…she loved Christmas. Always tried to make it special after Dad died and — always makes me miss’er.”

Delphia’s shoulders slumped once he was finished. She felt her throat close up as tears threatened to fall. Rick Flag was such a good, caring, loving man. He missed his mom on Christmas — even after all this time. A love built up in his chest with nowhere to put it. He was staring at the floor, moving his phone slowly from hand to hand, his eyes lost somewhere else. On good memories that made his heart ache. Delphia angled her body to lean into him, put her hand on the back of his neck to massage gently at the tense muscles she found here. The hand on his thigh slid up his chest to cup his cheek, forcing him to look over at her with those big, dark eyes.

“I wish I could’ve met your mom, sounds like we would’ve gotten on well,” she said, encouraged by the grin that quirked his lips, “But I don’t think she would want her memory to make Christmas sad for you. We should do like she did — make it special now that she’s gone.”

Rick’s eyes slipped shut as he breathed into her, forehead colliding with her’s softly. He pulled her in with searching hands like gravity — tugging her into his lap as his fingers trailed up her sides.

“She would’ve loved you,” he whispered.

“Y’really think so?” Delphia petted his cheek softly, smoothed her thumb over the crest of his cheekbone.

“Yeah,” he breathed with a grin, “Ya sound just like her. Y’would’ve been two peas in a pod.”

“Oh, geez, don’t say I sound like your mother. That sounds terrible,” she laughed.

“It’s true though — what you said,” he chuckled, finally opening his eyes to look at her properly, “She wouldn’t like me feelin’ this way. Especially when I’ve got someone like you tryin’ to cheer me up.”

Delphia smiled at him with a scrunch of her nose. “Wanna put up the tree?”

“Absolutely, baby girl.”

They got out the bins of decorations and the prelit tree from the closet out on the balcony. Delphia put on their favorite Christmas hits, real classics that they knew all the words to. The tree went up in its designated spot by the balcony doors so everyone driving by could see the Christmas cheer — and so that it was always in their line of sight no matter where they stood in the main room of their tiny apartment. Rick helped her wrap the red, sparkling ribbon around the tree and broke into the bins of ornaments excitedly. He unwrapped the papertowels from around a few with special care. His mother’s old ornaments that he hadn’t had the heart to just throw out when he was going through her things all those years ago.

“Oh, my God — is that you?” Delphia asked as she peered over his shoulder at the ornament he was inspecting.

It was a wreath made of out puzzle pieces spray painted green — holly berries made of beads hot glued to the top. And in the middle was a blurry picture of a little kid Rick Flag. He hadn’t exactly figured out how to smile yet, it was all crooked teeth and his chin was nearly tilted down in a creepy way. But she would recognize that sandy blonde hair anywhere.

“Uh, yeah,” he chuckled, letting her take the ornament from him, “Made it when I was like eight — Mom would never let me throw it away.”

Delphia examined it closely with a grin. There weren’t very many pictures of Rick from his childhood. That was what happened when all those photo albums were left in the hands of a twenty-five year old in the army. Most of them were still in the storage unit he had up in DC. She ghosted a finger over the photo lightly. She could see why his mom loved this one so much.

“I love it,” she said, moving towards the tree, “This one is definitely going on.”

They decorated for hours, taking a break for lunch, and letting the sun slowly set as time went on. Delpha couldn’t just stop at the Christmas tree. She needed to pull out her little village to put at the table by the front door. Garland and lights needed to go around the balcony’s railing. The pillows on the couch needed to be switched out. The ancient and chipped Santa shaped cookie jar just had to be out on the counter. Pretty soon, their little apartment was a Christmas wonderland. And as Delphia set up the last of the little trees around the little village, The Christmas Song came on.

“Dance with me?” Rick asked as he stepped away from adjusting the star on the top of the tree.

“Always,” she replied.

He pulled her in close with a smile, one hand holding her own while the other latched onto her waist. She fit into him like a puzzle piece, hand on his shoulder and head on his chest. Delphia could feel it now. That weight was lifted off him in relief — replaced by a warmth and joy that really only Christmas could bring.

“Merry Christmas, Rick Flag.”

“Merry Christmas, Delphia Holman.”

Taglist (if you would like to be tagged in future installments, just let me know!): @bbygrgu @a-reader-and-a-writer @slayerx147 @xoxabs88xox @kasey-puff @witchygagirl @the-pink-petite-princess @blooo0ooop @woodlandmouth @csigeoblue @rexorangecouny @h-hxgirl @thisisthewayrose @blondiekook @darkestbeforethedawn16 @runic-belova @weallhaveadestiny @oopsiedoopsie23 @nerdgrrlramblings @ocfairygodmother @reysorigins @hawsx3

#rick flag #colonel rick flag #rick flag x oc #rick flag x delphia holman #rick flag imagine #rick flag fanfiction #rick flag fanfic #rick flag fic #suicide squad #the suicide squad #suicide squad x oc #suicide squad imagine #suicide squad fanfiction #suicide squad fanfic #suicide squad fic #dceu oc #dceu x oc #dceu imagine #dceu fanfiction #dceu fanfic #dceu fic #oc appreciation #romanticgumchewers christmas spectacular #joel kinnaman #joel kinnaman imagine

[acollectionofficsandshit]

Sneak Peek! Chapter 2: Rules of the Game

The first chapter of Rules of the Game just hit 200 notes and I thought I’d drop this as a thank you! also because the asks I’ve gotten all day have made me certain y’all might like where this is going!

Monday, February 20th, 2017- Monte Carlo, Monaco

Your brain goes speeding past the realization that those are Daniel’s lips on yours, brushing so faintly that you aren’t entirely sure that you hadn’t imagined it entirely, the heat spreading from his skin into yours already starting to fade away before you can ever truly tell it had been there at all, threatening to vanish into thin air so thoroughly that you know you’ll be left wondering if you’d simply imagined the whole thing. 

And yet, he was kissing you. Daniel was kissing you. 

Everything in you was screaming, demanding that you stop wasting time and start preparing yourself for the moment of bliss to ripped away from you shortly, for Daniel to pull away and say it had been a mistake, that he shouldn’t have done that, that he didn’t know why he’d come here in the first place and that, most painfully of all, that he didn’t want to do this again and again and again like you did. 

Then he’s pulling away and the horror of reality comes crashing in and all you’re left with is the memory of the entire momentary affair, impossible fleeting, cut short, reduced down to a glancing blow of a touch but it had happened, unequivocally a set point in time, the existence of which was the matter of unavoidable, undeniable fact. 

He had kissed you. Daniel had just kissed you.  

But then one of his hands is tangling in your hair, delicately holding one side of your face in the palm of that hand as the other finds the nape of your neck, bringing his lips crushing back into place against yours. It takes nothing at all for you to respond in kind, your arms finding his body and tucking yourself snuggly against him, pulling to you as you go, already stepping backwards and moving further into your apartment, bringing Daniel with you. 

You grin into the kiss momentarily, communicating your approval at the sound of the front door slamming closed behind Daniel’s back, which he’d somehow managed to remember needed to be done. He kicks it shut so hard you can hear the picture frames on the walls rattling, knowing instantaneously that the neighbors upstairs will complain and yet, you can’t find it in yourself to really give a fuck about any of that right now.

“How long have we got?” If Daniel’s face wasn’t so close to yours, if you weren’t asking the question one word at a time, slipping the question into his mouth because you were both entirely unwilling to stop kissing long enough to talk, there’s no way he could have heard what you’d said, not when you’re both already breathless and the sound of labored breathing fills the room. 

“Long enough,” you quickly discover you thoroughly enjoy the way that Daniel’s voice rumbles through you when he speaks while his lips are mapping their way down the line of your throat, the vibrations sending pleasant, tingling echoes of each word crawling across your skin. 

“Car won’t be here till noon,” he explains, and you nod your head in acknowledgement, despite the fact that you’re vastly more concerned with learning exactly where it was along his neck that the perfectly placed flick of your tongue was responsible for the way Daniel’s breath kept audibly catching his throat beneath your mouth.  

“We’ve got more than enough time-” you continue tracing the tendons and the thick corded muscle of Daniel’s neck, relishing the way it made you ache between your own legs every time that the drag of your teeth across his skin makes him forget what he’d been saying, and he’s forced to start all over from the beginning again. 

“To try a bit of everything and still have enough time left over to start from the top with-” Daniel pauses, too busy helping you peel his sweater off of him to be concerned with what he’d been saying. 

What you’re quite happy to discover, as Daniel’s shirt lands in a crumpled heap of red and navy, is that the Red Bull logo looks far better on your bedroom floor than it does on TV. 

“To start from the top with our favorite part and do it all over again.”

#rules of the game #daniel ricciardo fanfiction #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo fan fiction #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo one shot #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo #f1 fanfic #f1 one shot #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 oneshot #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 #f1 x you #formula 1 x you

[the-thot-clown]

May I ask that you talk about the character designs you love, please? 👀

(inhales)

‘aight, this is going to be long so

ok the first one and my favorite one is Bubba.

Among all the slashers Bubba is the one with the lightest colors, including his main mask which is a faded yellow that fits very well with the pale pink of his shirt and bright yellow apron. Even his tie complements well by cutting out warm colors with a three-tone blue. Along with his dark blue jeans and black cowboy boots. They are soft colors and shapes and he himself is very neat (my boy is really there working with a shirt and tie, what a gentleman) which is a reflection of his personality in general. He is very distinctive and appealing to the eye, even in dark scenes you can fully distinguish him.

I don't talk much about his clothing when he uses the old woman's mask since, apart from the change of face, only another apron is added. But with the pretty woman mask it is something else. I can't express how much I love that they decided to put him in a dark suit, other than that it's because Bubba wanted to look good for dinner, it's also a nice change of tones that goes with how the dinner scene is the darkest part of the movie thematically speaking. Also that the mask with makeup serves as a focal point following the neckline, and of course using the blue tie to add color to the whole outfit but still being a cool color making the red and pink makeup of the mask stand out more. I love it 10/10

Another one is Jason from part 3, 4 and 6. I love the shirt in that shade of green along with the light pants, it is thematically coherent, simple, the colors go well with the place where the film takes place, it helps the mask stand out more and is recognizable to the naked eye. While Jason from part 2 is also one of my favorites with all the blue tones and the white bag on his head he isn’t as iconic (since he looks a lot like the murderer of The Town That Dreaded Sundown). 9/10 for mama’s boy.

Michael and Ghostface are in the same place for me, both outfits are minimalist, dark and with a white mask as a focal point, Ghostface has one more point for me because it adds texture to his suit since the fabric is shiny and it shows that it is rough. Both masks despite having the same intention of being the focal point, both are in the two opposites if we talk about expressions, one being exaggerated and the other that does not express anything. 9/10

And now that I’m talking about them, something that bothers me a bit about the remake/reboot and secuels versions of the 2000 movies is how they decided to remove all the colors from the clothes of some slashers, I love Thomas and FvJ Jason as well as RZ Michael but it is very sad how they decided to go for outfits that are practically unrecognizable on screen, adding that the movies themselves are very dark and you can hardly tell anything from what is happening. Even the masks, the’ve become more dirty and almost irreconocible.

Everything looks washed out, brown and dirty.

Ok back to the favorites.

Another one, Babyface (The Hills Run Red) Good neutral colors, gray shirt and beige pants but cut by the red color that helps to connect everything in general, it also makes the attention focus on him and the decorations on his neck, great mask design, it's scary, It is grotesque but without becoming deformed, you can differentiate the parts of the mask and more than once they make closeups to show it even in the light. Very good work 8/10.

Ok at first I wasn't a big fan of Brahms clothes (mostly because you can barely see it) but it's a nice outfit, the gray-blue cardigan really complements the brown pants, the white shirt also helps to be a point focal and separate it from the dark in conjunction with the mask (the mask being surrounded by dark hair and the beard also helps it stand out more) it is simple, just a doll face but it is a nice addition. It is comfortable and it is in character and according to the situation. I love the suspenders, you classy fucker. 6/10

One of my favorite of all time, Tiffany, MAN I LOVE THIS the puffy hair, the eye color, the makeup, the leather jacket over the wedding dress oh my god i love her. Is simple yet iconic 10/10

Is sad what they did to her hair later tho.

Now the bitch himself, The shape and colors are instantly recognizable, the brown hat goes well with the colors of the sweater, this being the focal point of the whole outfit, I like the idea of the glove and since its entire face is burned separates it from the others slashers who always wear masks. bitch/10

The cenobites, over all iconic, love the goth bitches 10/10

Vincent Sinclair (since it is the one that stands out the most in the wardrobe part of the three brothers) I can’t see shit. Man that movie sure doesn’t want us to see him but for I can see he’s nice, love the sweater, I like the idea of his mask being made of wax, love the hair. 6/10

The two Pennywises: Both are good. Stop making these queens fight eachother. While 2017 Pennywise has his face as the focal point and his hair the other IS the focal point, both suits are useful for attracting or hunting prey in their own way, both are good and both have things of the Pennywise from the book. 8/10

Candyman. The man, the legend.The presence, the coat, the color palette, the pants, the tie, the fluffy details. Everything, I absolutely love everything about the design. 10/10

Honorable mentions:

Lucille Sharpe: I love the red dress but this dress holy shit 

Chop Top: Yeah I’ve said it. Man has style and I love that you can say a lot just by looking at him. That’s nice. 

Billy Lenz: I know we can only see little things about his clothes, just his light blue oxford pants and his black turtleneck shirt (yeah it’s black but i like the green sweater too) but I just can imagine him with the 70′s clothes and I just loose my shit.

so that’s it, I have some more but this is already too long.

#about the clown #Anonymous

[getitinbusan]

10 years with Jungkook

California

You met Jeon Jeongguk in the summer of 2012. Two kids brought together by a calling to California and a chance at making it big. Best friends from the start, what happens when only one of you becomes successful? Do you ever forget your first love? 

Childhood friends to lovers, angst and smut.

Words:  4600

Warnings: 18 plus smut. Oral F, Sex MF, Swearing. Pretty Mild for me. This is a previously posted fic that has been updated and reworked.

It was a rare rainy August day in California. The heavy drops created a sad melody on the window as you put the dishes away. Tired and lonely, the feeling in your gut kept nagging at you, maybe it was time to give up. 

The savings account was drained, there were no jobs to be found and  this was the second month of falling short on rent. Surely it would only be a matter of time before your roommates would stop exchanging house cleaning for money. 

Hanging the threadbare towel over its hook you stood in the kitchen, your mood mirroring the dim light of the afternoon. Feeling frusterated and stupid, it had taken you way longer than it should have to realize that in LA, you were nothing. Not pretty enough, rich enough, skinny enough or talented enough to ever make it big. So this is how the great Califonia chapter of your life would end, not by choice but necessity. 

Gathering up the mail that was strewn across the countertop, you shuffled through it sorting its priority. Junk mail, bills, personal…one in particular standing out. Your heart began pounding as you took in the details.

The penmanship was nice, black ink on an unassuming envelope. But it was the stamp that caught your attention. It was sent from Korea.

Flipping it in your hand you examined the torn top. The letter, having been read, was cradled back safely inside. Addressed to your roommate a frown crept onto your face. Why wouldn’t he write to you?

It was a ridiculously hopeful notion but you widened the envelope and inhaled trying to find a trace of his fragrance, something, anything to trigger a happy memory. Cool California nights were the best excuse. How many times had you borrowed his sweaters just to have his smell on you?

You missed him. It had been a year and a half and you couldn't help but once again ponder the nagging question that always crept back. If you hadn't forced him to break the rules would he still be a part of your life? 

It was too tempting to resist, your fingers pinched the paper inside of the envelope and pulled it free. 

I’m feeling low, I don’t know who I am, only who I’m supposed to be.

What would life be like if I had stayed in California? We could all be roommates, hanging out and having fun, going to the beach on weekends.

Does she even think about me?

It sounds greedy that with how much I have right now, it’s not enough. I would give anything to wake up in bed beside her everyday. I want more than anything to be able to talk to her about these things but I can’t. I’ve made the mistake of trading her for fame and now I’m destined to keep her at an arm’s length so she’ll never know the price I paid.

How does she even see me? As an Idol? As the boy who abandoned her? Has she forgotten the good days we spent together?

I’ve been wrestling with myself, whoever that is. I wish I could be the teenage boy from that long ago summer again. I wrote this song thinking about it…

~When I see you smile in the screen

You’re good at everything

You’re just perfect

Feels like I've never been you

Do you even see me?

Do you know who I am?

Or how do I look now?

You don’t like me like that

I want to be your decalcomania~

I’m afraid I may not get back for a while, please write. Your friendship and thoughts of her are the only things that are keeping me tethered to some semblance of reality.

JK

Clutching the letter to your chest, your mind took you back to that day. 

"Decalcomania, the art or process of transferring pictures and designs. Making a copy of the original on a different medium"  

Reading the description on the wall you’d both stood laughing at the piece's strange name, Decalcomania. The gallery visit felt like lifetimes ago but you still remembered clearly. You remembered, not because the piece had struck you as particularly special but because that's where you had decided that Jeongguk's laugh was the best sound you'd ever heard.  

California had lured you into its promise when you turned 14. Having been accepted to an  intensive dance program at The Movement Lifestyle Studio you packed up and headed West for the summer. 

It was July and it was hot, the dancers stepping off the bus one at a time took their places in the studio.

Looking around there were so many older kids, you were probably one of the youngest. Calling out names they put you into groups, it appeared to be by age so you made your way across the unfamiliar wooden floor to the tiny gathering of teens in the darkened corner.

Shy introductions were made as one more member was ushered over to where you had congregated. “This is Jeongguk.” 

He had the cutest smile and barely spoke english but his eyes twinkled like the constellations. Immediately drawn to each other you became fast friends.

Absolutely exhausted by the end of the first few days he quietly knocked at your door.

He was homesick and lonely, used to being surrounded by his six members, he couldn’t sleep well without someone beside him. You let him crawl into bed with you, you were 14 and it was innocent. 

Inseparable, days and nights were spent side by side, the others began referring to you as the twins. It was the best summer of your life but like every boy meets girl summer story, it had to come to a close. Promising through tears to keep in touch and stay friends you went your separate ways. 

Jeongguk would send silly videos of his practice sessions, goofing around with the other members.  He’d facetime and text but he always loved to send handwritten letters.

They lived in a box under your bed and contained stories of how hard he was working to become an idol. He always signed off with, "I miss you,” and a few lines of lyrics he’d written.

You didn’t know then how important they would become, the only tangible piece of him you could still hold on to.  

Whenever he came back to America you did everything you could to see him. You always found a way to get to the small tour stops whenever they came through. 2015 was the first, then KCon in 2016, but 2017, it was different.

Facetiming you with the news that they were bringing the Wings tour to NY, Chicago and Anaheim, he asked if you’d be part of the dance crew. How could you turn down two weeks with Jungkook the hottest new K-pop Idol? They were getting bigger, more popular and their lives were changing rapidly.

He had strict rules, girls were completely off limits. No talking, no hugging, no smiling at one another, any little thing could be easily misconstrued by the fans. Everything had to be done in secret. Jungkook would sneak you into his hotel room where you would spend your nights together catching up. The boys would bring you in food and cover for him while you both stayed locked away out of sight.

While happy to be with him, you could tell there was an underlying sadness he was holding on to.

"I wish I could go and explore the city with you like we used to," his voice trailed off.

You were laying in each other’s arms cuddling on his bed.  Leaning over he kissed the top of your head.

"All I really want is to take you on a proper date."

You snuggled closer into his side as he exhaled deeply, releasing his secret. 

"I’ve been waiting so long to become someone, a man worthy of your affection. Now I’m stuck. I have everything I wanted and I’m not allowed to share it with you."

His arms gripped you tighter.

"I’m sorry, this is a terrible confession. I don’t expect you to love me back, not under these circumstances, I just need you to know, you’re the only girl I’ve ever loved and there won’t be anybody else, ever." 

Every bit of his confession, every moment of that last night in the hotel room had stuck with you to this day. The words of a 19 year old boy whose life had become bigger than the feelings of two people.

He'd left in the morning without knowing. You were a coward, too afraid to tell him you loved him too.  

LA became your home right after they left Anaheim. Focused on your dancing, if you became good enough, maybe you could join the tour with him. 

A letter with a big bouquet of flowers arrived a few weeks later. 

"Congratulations on your new house in LA!

I hope that all of you are getting along as roommates, it’s hard living with others sometimes.

Last night I dreamt that I was there with you and all of our friends. We were having a party on the beach and we sat together watching the sunset.

Do you remember after practice when we would skateboard as fast as we could to the ocean so we wouldn’t miss the colors?

Maybe one day my toes can feel the sand there again.

I miss you, I miss me… the me I am when I get to be with you.

We're coming back in October for a few days and I’m hoping I can see you, I’m lonely already.   

Jeongguk

~Won’t you please stay in dreams

I can hear the sea from far away

Across the dream, over the bush

Go there where it becomes clear

Take my hands now

You are the cause of my euphoria

When I’m with you, I’m in utopia~

By the time The AMAs came, the plan had been finalized. You would steal Jungkook away so that you could take him on your first real date.

Having enlisted Namjoon to help, he was your inside man. The boys, happy to help finally get you together, would cover for his whereabouts with management. The day before the awards they were only scheduled for styling, as long as he wasn’t late for the press rounds the next afternoon your plan could work.

It was Namjoon’s job to get him out of the building. Telling him to follow his lead, Joon convinced the managers that Jungkook must have eaten something bad for lunch. Claiming to not feel well, he was whisked away to meet you at the hotel’s back receiving door. 

Sitting in the shiny red rented convertible you tossed him a pair of sunglasses. What you wouldn’t give now to see that smile again.

Barely giving him time to get in you’d sped away heading straight for In And Out Burger.

"Kookie, I hope you’re ready for the best day of your life! We’re going to eat until we explode, drink and party at the beach and then, instead of returning you to your fancy 5 star hotel you’re staying the night in my crappy little house with a tiny uncomfortable bed!!"

He laughed, that perfect laugh. It was so pure and honest, thinking about it now made you sad. Was that the last moment he'd gotten to be his true self? Jeongguk the man not Jungkook the personna? 

Knowing you only had one day to give him everything, one day to show him you loved him, you tried to make the best of it.

Picking up the food Jungkook held onto the red and white bags in the passenger seat, sneaking his hand in to steal fries when he thought you weren’t looking. If you weren’t sure you were in love with him before you you certainly were now.

Pulling up beside the tree on the beach he was stunned, "Ahhh Jagi, I can’t believe you brought me here."

Happy that it meant as much to him as it did to you, you both sat on the branch and ate. Two blocks from the old studio this used to be your escape. Every break you’d make your way to the tree for some time alone, together. 

With the burgers done he turned to you and smiled. It felt like he wanted to say something, but stupidly, you'd cut him short leading him back towards the car.

Making your way through your checklist you brought him back to where you'd first met. The Movement studios students were starstruck when he walked in. After insisting that he teach some choreography, he reluctantly led the class.

Your eyes were glued to him as he moved in front of the mirrors, no longer that awkward teenager but a full grown man mesmerizing you with his every move.

Getting back to the car he stopped you before you reached for the handle. Putting his arms around you he pulled you in close. But again, you resisted him. 

"You stink Jungkook, our next stop is the ocean."

You remember pulling away. How stupid you were, you should have held on to him longer. Reaching into the back seat you revealed a pair of swim shorts and a towel. He looked disappointed that you kept interrupting his attempts at intimacy. It broke your heart but you had a plan and limited time to execute it. 

The Ocean was chilly but the wind was warm, he came out of the change room with the shorts on but still wearing his shirt.

"Kookie, this isn’t Korea, you don’t have to be so modest here. Plus, you should grab some sun, you may not believe it but when your skin is sunkissed," you grinned, "you look really sexy."

He raised his eyebrows and quickly removed the shirt at your request.

Running into the water you splashed and played and he took great pleasure in picking you up and throwing you as far as he could.

The sun was getting ready to set and you wanted to dry off before the cooler air set in.

Leading him back to the shore you both laid down on the towel. He put his arm around you and you cuddled into his side.

"My god Guk, look at your abs!"

He blushed like crazy as you traced the muscles on his stomach.

"Stop, it tickles," he giggled.

But you didn’t, you kept tickling him until he held you so tight you couldn’t move. He had you pinned, flipping you on your back he shook his wet hair flinging water droplets all over you. Pleased with himself he leaned in closer to you, his eyes asking for permission to kiss you. As the gap between you got narrower you could hear his name being shouted and footsteps running closer. He flopped onto his back and sighed as your roommates and friends piled on top of him.

Eating, drinking and catching up with everyone you watched each other from across the bonfire. Moving from person to person he slowly made his way back to your side.

"Welcome back." Running your hand through the back of his hair, it was now or never. 

Pulling him closer your lips finally met in the way they were destined, soft, slow and full of love. His hands instinctively moved to cup your face as the world stopped around you.

"I love you," you whispered.

Nose to nose he smiled at you and it was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

It didn’t last long, his phone started going off incessantly. The managers knew, you’d been careless, photos and videos of him from the studio had been posted online.

"I’m so sorry Jungkook, I didn’t mean for you to get in trouble."

His eyes turned hungry as he grabbed your hand.

"You promised I wouldn’t be going back to my hotel tonight, let’s get out of here."

If he was going to get in trouble anyway, why stop now?  

The drive back to your place was quiet, adrenaline and hormones flowing like electricity through you both. The time for smiling was over as the seriousness of the situation lingered in the air between you.

It wasn’t just being in trouble or being caught, but the fact that you both knew what was going to happen when you stepped into your bedroom. One act that would change everything between you, it held the power to change the dynamic of your relationship forever.

Leading him to your room you closed the door and stood staring at him as he sat on your bed. He raked his fingers through his hair before he spoke.

"I’ve never wanted anything more in my life than to be able to make love to you. BUT I also know that when I leave I’m not going to get to see you again for a very long time." His head hung low. "Management is going to do everything possible to keep us apart and that won’t be fair to you. I think that maybe we should just let our happy memories of today be enough, I don’t want you to regret anything. " 

Walking closer you stood between his legs and he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"The only thing I'll regret is never getting to experience all of you. I can’t live not knowing how it feels to be totally yours even if it's only for one night."

He rested his head against your chest, "You’ll always be mine."

His hands traveled to the hem of your shirt and his fingers ran over the soft skin of your stomach. Undoing the button of your jeans he slowly slid them down your legs and you stepped out of them. 

Standing up he lifted the thin fabric of your shirt over your head and you stood before him waiting as he took his off too. Unclasping your bra he sighed as he looked at you taking in your shape, his fingertips hovering over your hard nipples.

"I’ve never done this before," he confessed.

"Me either," you whispered. "I've only ever wanted it to be you."

More relaxed he let his mouth start exploring your body. You were goosebumps and shivers beneath him as his tongue found it’s home between your legs.

He was soft and careful, placing his lips over your clit sucking it in delicately until your moans couldn’t be contained any longer. You could feel his eyes burning into you as he watched in awe as his finger slid inside you.

"It feels good Kookie, please…"

You could feel his mouth stopping to smile before he picked up speed. Moving your hips to eagerly meet his mouth you were unravelling quickly.

"The way you taste is better than anything I had imagined."

Devouring you in sessions between his words of adoration you came hard on his tongue. 

"I'm really regretting running you all over town today when we could have just been here...doing that.. " You were out of breath. 

"I was worried that I wouldn't be any good." He grinned at you pleased with himself. 

Moving up to where your head lay on the pillow he pushed the dampened hair off your face, "Are you ok? Do you need anything?"

He placed his forehead against yours.

"I just want you. I need you to know I'm yours, forever. 

Rolling a condom on he moved slowly to line himself up with your entrance.

"Tell me if you need me to stop okay?"

He pushed carefully, slowly stretching you around him. Watching intently for discomfort he froze when he saw the tears welling in your eyes.

"Shit, I’m so sorry, let’s stop, I didn’t mean to hurt you." He was apologetic as he thumbed away the tears.

"No," you delicately kissed his lips. "I’m okay… I’m just so happy, so overwhelmed with how much I’m feeling right now."

He smiled down at you, pressing his body closer he gave another push until he was fully inside. Your bodies fell into a beautifully choreographed rhythm until Jungkook was so lost in pleasure he began to move at his own pace. Quicker and deeper he moved until he finally spilled into the condom. 

Laying together in euphoria you kissed, and kissed, and kissed until you finally found sleep while wrapped around one other.

Every few hours he’d wake you up. His hands running over your body checking to make sure you weren't just a dream. You’d made love each time, everytime better than the last.

It was 9 am when he caressed you awake once more.

"I have to leave soon. I don’t want to." He spoke in whispers nestled into your neck. "Please tell me to stay."

Your heart broke at his words. "If I ask you to stay, I’m selfish, you’ll always wonder if you made the right decision." The tears came, knowing you had to do what was right. "If I tell you to go, your dreams come true… ” your voice trailed off.

"And I’ll always wonder if I made the right decision,” he finished. 

Your phone started ringing and you knew time was up.

It was Joon, "I’m outside. Sorry, I held them off as long as I could. I told them that I’d come get him so you could at least have time to say goodbye."

Your tears fell out in heavy ugly sobs, "Okay, five minutes… and Joon… thanks, I know you’re probably in trouble too."

Hanging up you turned back, Jungkook was already out of bed with his clothes thrown on. He stood with open arms bravely waiting. 

"Thank you for yesterday I'll never forget it."

Laying your head against his chest you took a moment to listen to his heartbeat. You could hear him sniffle and knew he was crying too.

You flashed back remembering that night long ago when he came to you homesick, holding you so he could sleep while he tried to hide his tears. There was a knock at the door and Namjoon’s voice broke through the moment.

"We’ve got to go Jungkook."

Stepping away you’d left his shirt soaked in tears, handing him his sweater he pushed it back towards you. "You keep it."

He kissed you one last time before opening the door to reveal Namjoon's weary face. His Hyung put his arm around his shoulder and led him to the car.

Turning one last time he looked back, his eyes were filled with tears as he gave a small wave before getting in the back of the big black sedan. 

For months you pretended that management was the only thing keeping you apart.

You held on to that silly notion until May when they were coming for the Billboard awards. For weeks leading up you waited for a message, a secret meeting arrangement, but you got nothing. His image was all over the TV and his voice echoed through your empty heart. Then, just like that, it was over and he was gone again. 

Now, here you stood in your kitchen, his letter bringing him to the forefront of your mind and opening old wounds.

He was just as sad as you but what could you do? 

Picking up a pen you began writing… 

I shouldn’t have done it but I read it in your letter

You said to a friend that you wish you were doing better

I wanted to reach out but I never said a thing

You don’t ever have to be stronger than you really are

And honey, you don’t ever have to act cooler than you think you should

You’re brighter than the brightest stars

You’re scared to win, scared to lose

I’ve heard the war was over if you really choose

The one in and around you

You hate the heat, you got the blues

You’re changing like the weather, oh, that’s so like you

I’ll pick you up

I’ll catch you on the flipside

If you come back to California

We’ll do whatever you want, travel wherever, how far

We’ll hit up all the old places

We’ll have a party, we can dance till dawn… 

Y/N

October came again and a chill was in the air, the smell of the ocean hit your nose and you stopped to take it in.

Bundled in Jungkook’s hoodie you threw your bag over your shoulder and began your walk to work. You'd gotten lucky, Movement had hired you just as you were about to give up and leave California. Filled with hope and excitement a new intensive program was scheduled to start today and you were going to meet the future superstars of the dance world. 

Memories flooded your mind as you made your way through the familiar neighborhood. It still hurt, but things were beginning to feel happy again. Writing the letter had given you closure, he knew how you felt and beyond that there was nothing else you could do.

Opening the heavy door to the studio you caught a familiar reflection moving in the mirror.  Chalk marker in hand he was writing something, It couldn’t be?

Hearing the door click back into place he turned to face you.

"Hi."

He walked towards you slowly. Unsure of what your reaction would be, he approached with caution.

"Hi."

You were breathless, in the months of not seeing him he’d only grown more handsome.

"I can’t change what happened… and for the rest of my life I’ll be sorry for all of the time we missed."

He was getting closer.

"But I can’t take another day not knowing if I can fix this… somehow…"

He reached for your hand but you pulled it away. His head fell in disappointment.

"Jungkook, I can’t listen to this… look at me."

Reaching for his chin you pulled his head up until he was facing you again.

"I refuse to listen to you apologize for something that is out of your control. Your life was decided before you met me and I am nothing but grateful that I got to appear in some part of your story."

He tilted his head and pressed a small kiss into the hand that was still holding his chin.

"God I’ve missed you." He wrapped his arms tightly around your waist.

"How long are you here? I’ve got to teach class.. It’s the first day but I’d love it if we could catch up?"

He laughed at you and your knees buckled at the sound of his happiness.

Taking his chance he pressed his lips to yours and you could feel the smile forming on his face.

"I’m your private lesson Jagi, I’ve booked you for the next two weeks."

Taking a step back you had to ask, "How Jungkook? What will you be giving up?"

Pulling you back to his embrace he began to dance with you.

"There is no more giving up, on anything. Our contracts were over and I only had one thing I wouldn’t negotiate on, that’s you." 

He guided you to look at the mirror.

"I wrote you something."

~Please call my name one more time

I’m standing under the frozen light, 

but I’ll walk step by step towards you

Still with you ~

"I promise I’ll never let you go again."

#jungkook #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #Jeongguk #jungkook x reader #kookie #nochu #10 years with jungkook #california #lana del rey

[destielfanfic]

My First Destiel Fic, vol.3

Thank you guys for sharing your memories! My First Destiel Fic is a nostalgic survey open to any destiel fan and has a simple goal - to celebrate fics that were our gateway into a wonderful world of destiel shipping. Thank you, fic writers, you are our heroes!

from @nextheirofslytherin

my first destiel fic was “In This Secluded Spot I Respond As I Wouldn't Dare Elsewhere” by RhymePhile. the girl i liked who got me into supernatural in middle school recommended it to me, so it always has a special place in my heart 😅 it was the first fic i read on ao3 too! i read it while i was watching s3 (cas hadn’t even shown up yet!) but the show was in its 9-10th season

All fic titles link directly to the fic, when it’s possible, we have added another link to our review or submitted rec post.

In This Secluded Spot I Respond As I Wouldn’t Dare Elsewhere by rhymephile [M, 34,000 word count, posted 2010] (our review)

It's 1995, and Castiel's high school years are destined to be difficult: home-schooled until eighth grade, he is awkward, shy, and socially inept. The weird kid with the funny name would rather isolate himself and draw in his sketchbook than deal with the constant bullying he faces every day. Things only get worse in his junior year when he excels in home economics class, leading the captain of the baseball team, Alastair, to start taunting him for being gay. Then new student Dean Winchester arrives at Flour Bluff High School, sharing many of Castiel's classes. Castiel has seen his type before -- handsome, athletic, arrogant, and sure to be the most popular kid in school. But Castiel eventually learns that he and Dean have more in common than he thought, and they form an unlikely friendship.

from @deansbff

i joined the fandom in the beginning of 2019 and molting expectations by tricia_16 was the first fic (over 11k words) that i read. it really made me fall in love with deancas because i realised i didn't need them to be in the canon!verse to be so wonderful, their relationship was amazing in whatever universe they were in and it was always intriguing to read about!!

Molting Expectations by tricia_16 [163,100 word count, posted 2019]

After having trouble coping with a traumatic incident on the job, Dean takes his little brother's advice and leaves everything behind to go stay at the old family cabin in Colorado. Nobody's been there for years so it needs some major work, but it's secluded, and that turns out to be exactly what Dean needs in order to start to feel at peace again. Now in the mountains with nothing but nature to amuse himself with, he takes up bird watching and plans a hike into the mountain range across from his cabin in search of a golden eagle. High up in the mountains, he discovers human footprints. Thinking someone is in danger, he follows them into a cave and quickly becomes familiar with a form of wildlife he never could have imagined: winged people who call themselves angels.

from @bornonathursdayinmarch

I actually started out in the fandom against Destiel. I mean, it was pretty clear that Dean Winchester was not into men. But then I read “Redemption Road” by accident around 2015. I didn’t know it was Destiel. But I got really into it and this fic totally changed my mind on Dean/Cas. I have since read hundreds of Destiel fics and I am more into the ship than ever. My absolute favorite fanfic is “Sweaters and Cigarettes” by lemonoclefox. I love how shy, caring Dean softens cynical Castiel and how in love they are despite being so different. It makes me smile when I’m down.

Redemption Road by spnredemption (the fic is a collaborative effort of a group of destiel writers and artists) [NC-17, 650,000 word count, 24 episodes, posted 2011-12)

With Castiel having set himself up as the new God, drunk on power and volatile as a nuclear reactor, Dean, Sam, and Bobby find themselves on the run from the jealous, capricious monster wearing the face of their friend. Desperate for protection and wary of his brother’s mental state since Castiel unlocked Sam’s memories of Hell, Dean knows Castiel must be defused before he can wreak further havoc in Heaven or on Earth. Although Bobby advocates for destroying Castiel by whatever means necessary, Dean is convinced the Cas he once knew still remains, buried somewhere beneath the mass of poisonous souls and calling out for help. Determined to save the angel who once rescued him from Hell and redefined his purpose in life, Dean himself must resist the allure of the false deity vying for his obedience, and come to terms with the knowledge, long-suppressed, that his feelings for Castiel run much deeper than brotherhood. It is this bond, and the dubious distinction of the Righteous Man, that will ultimately grant Dean access to where Castiel’s grace languishes in Purgatory. However, what Dean brings back with him is broken, angry, and only half-angel, certainly not the Castiel he remembers—and nor is it the only thing that returns to Earth with them…

Sweaters & Cigarettes by lemonoclefox [NC-17, 150,000 word count, posted 2014]  NOTE - the fic was deleted from ao3 by the author, please see our review for more details

Dean Winchester is in high school, crushing hard on Castiel Novak, the unbelievably hot goth who Dean does his very best to convince himself he hates, despite the fact that he can’t really stop staring at him. Dean tries, but when the two of them finally cross paths, their first conversation takes a surprising turn. And suddenly, they both find themselves falling harder and faster than they ever could have expected.

from @iamasphodelknox

Hi! The fic that made Destiel my OTP was The Walk series by Persephoneshadow. It blew my mind and I hadn’t even started watching Supernatural yet. 🙈 I started watching the show last year, just as Season 15 was starting. I’m a newbie but this comfort ship felt like coming home. I also read a turn of the earth by microcomets just as I got to season 4 and it is one of the best things I’ve ever read, fic or no. :)

The Walk by Persephoneshadow [NC-17, 190,000 word count, posted 2017]

Castiel tells himself it was a one time thing, even if his night with a hooker named Dean changed his whole world, but he can’t keep away from the man fate keeps throwing in his path. Castiel is married and he knows his sexuality is an affront to God and everything he’s ever been told is right. Dean tells himself he doesn’t care about the weirdo with blue eyes, but every time they meet he gets a bit closer to something like hope. Dean’s nothing but a homeless waste of space with a brother in foster care a world away and a father in the wind. As the connection between these two lost men deepens, it threatens the carefully maintained lies their lives are built on in a story of faith, mistakes, and the journey of love.

a turn of the earth by mishcollin microcomets [NC-17, 95,300 word count, posted 2015] (our review)

Dean’s your typical half-orphaned, monster-killing 22-year-old until a trenchcoated stranger crashes into his back windshield one September night, claiming he’s an angel that knows him from the future and that he’s on the run. Frigging fantastic. (Or, in which Castiel gets stuck in Dean’s timeline pre series and Dean kind of hates it—until he doesn’t.)

If you enjoyed the fic, please drop by the archive (AO3) and let the author know with your comments and/or kudos! And if you found our recs useful, let us know by Liking and/or Reblogging our posts!

You can find all My First Destiel Fic posts under this tag!

#destiel #destielfanficnet #my first destiel fic #hey guys #these are all submissions we received #if you don't see yours here #please contact mod flyingcatstiel directly #nextheirofslytherin #deansbff #bornonathursdayinmarch #iamasphodelknox

[burkymakar]

Hi my favorite athletic reader. If possible could you post anything important from Baughers new article on Gabe?

lol i feel so used. it's under the cut haha

Gabriel Landeskog rolled up to the Avalanche practice rink, a 19-year-old figuring he was heading into a meeting about the upcoming 2012-13 season. A potential lockout loomed, and he wondered if he and his teammates were about to get information on what would happen next.

But only one teammate was there when Landeskog got inside Family Sports Center in Centennial, Colo.: captain Milan Hejduk. Then-Colorado coach Joe Sacco was there, too. They wanted to speak to Landeskog privately.

At the time, Hejduk was entering his 14th season with Colorado. The veteran was the only player left from the Avalanche’s 2001 Stanley Cup team, and he knew his career was winding down. He was no longer a top forward on the team and didn’t feel it would be right to remain captain. Someone else needed to take the role, Landeskog remembers Hejduk telling him that day.

“And I think that person is you,” Hejduk said.

The young winger was caught off guard. He let out a stunned laugh. At the time, no permanent captain in league history had ever been named at so young an age. A tornado of emotions followed: shock, excitement and — naturally — nerves. He called his dad immediately after the conversation.

“You’ve got to this point being who you are,” Tony Landeskog told his son. “Don’t try to be somebody you’re not.”

That advice stuck with Landeskog, and from that day forward, his “C”-embroidered jersey has been a constant for the Avalanche. It was there through the promising years with Nathan MacKinnon, Ryan O’Reilly and Matt Duchene, and it was there when that core fell apart. It was there through the pain of rebuilding, and it was there as the Avalanche emerged as a league power.

Now, its era in Denver could be coming to a close.

For the first time in his NHL career, Landeskog is a pending unrestricted free agent. And after a decade in Denver, he doesn’t know what’s coming next.

“The uncertainty is something I’ve never dealt with,” Landeskog says. “I’ve always known that come September, October, I’m going to pull on that Avs jersey.”

Landeskog has repeatedly said he wants to stay with Colorado, and the Avalanche want to bring him back. But with star defenseman Cale Makar set to receive a massive raise in restricted free agency and the Avalanche up against the salary cap, general manager Joe Sakic is facing tough decisions this offseason.

Landeskog wants long-term security. Currently, he’s in limbo.

“I can’t help but be honest with you that I’m a little bit disappointed that it’s gotten this far and it’s had to come to this point,” Landeskog says.

Now 28, Landeskog could be looking at his last chance to sign a major, multiyear contract. The Avalanche, meanwhile, must decide how much they are willing to spend — and for how many years — on a physical, two-way forward approaching 30.

Teams must submit protection lists Saturday for the July 21 Kraken expansion draft, and if Colorado doesn’t protect Landeskog, Seattle will have a window to bargain with him before free agency begins July 28. Landeskog’s reputation as a leader and production (52 points in 54 games this past season and 171 in 181 over the past three) will make him a popular target should he reach the open market. Teams like the Kraken, Blues, Kings, Flyers and Oilers jump out as potential suitors.

Talks between the Avalanche and their captain have increased in frequency in recent days, but the sides are still far away from an agreement, according to a league source.

“We’ll see what happens,” Landeskog says. “I’m still hopeful that we can agree on something and come to terms, but if it was up to me, I would have liked it to be done eight months ago, 10 months ago.”

In the nine seasons since Hejduk handed over the captaincy, Landeskog has gone from a green-but-mature up-and-comer to the calming presence on an elite team. He’s now a parent, one of the older players on the Avalanche and their unquestioned leader.

“It’s been a constant learning curve,” he says.

He’s grown, and he’s growing. The question is if that will continue with the Avalanche.

One day during his first season as captain, Landeskog stood in the Family Sports dressing room for a players-only meeting, taking note of teammates in their 30s, veterans who had spent more than a decade in the NHL. In only his second season, Landeskog could hear his voice shake.

“It probably was pretty laughable how nervous I was,” he says.

The Avalanche were in the midst of a rough stretch in what amounted to a season of rough stretches. Landeskog leaned on older players — Hejduk, Jean-Sebastien Giguere, Paul Stastny, O’Reilly and Erik Johnson, to name a few — and one suggested a team meeting.

Landeskog doesn’t recall what he said that day, but he remembers the nerves — that quiver in his voice — and how the older players had his back. Others chimed in, and the team dissected what was going wrong.

Ultimately, the group was simply a transitioning team without enough talent to contend, and though Landeskog was captain that year, the team used a leadership-by-committee approach. Landeskog credits his teammates’ support for making the job easier, and Stastny remembers him being unafraid to ask questions.

Landeskog says he asked about everything from travel-day logistics to organizing team functions. The communication didn’t translate to on-ice success that year, as the team finished 16-25-7, but it laid the groundwork for how Landeskog still views his role as captain.

“That’s how leaders learn, too: They learn from other guys,” former teammate Greg Zanon says. “I think he was born for the job.”

Before giving Landeskog the “C,” Sacco and then-Avalanche general manager Greg Sherman both reached out to Hejduk, wanting to know what he’d think of the young Swede taking over the role. Landeskog, who had just won the Calder Trophy, hadn’t been a name on Hejduk’s radar for the captaincy because of his age, but the more he thought about the decision, the more it made sense.

So he voiced his approval for the player 17 years his junior.

“What can you say negative about Gabe?” Hejduk says today.

“It was only a matter of time,” Stastny adds. “If it was fast-tracked a year, I don’t think anyone really cared. Everyone knew it was coming.”

Still, Landeskog was nervous. He’d played in only 82 NHL games and was still trying to figure out the league himself. He didn’t know how his teammates would react to such a young captain. Part of him still thinks he might not have been ready.

Despite Landeskog’s concerns, the announcement went over well with the team. Duchene and winger David Jones tweeted their congratulations, and defenseman Ryan O’Byrne remembers liking the decision when he read the news on TSN’s website.

“The only conversations I had with teammates were, ‘Gabe’s the captain. That’s so great,’” O’Byrne remembers. “Why would we wait to give him the captaincy? There’s no reason to wait. He (was) ready. He’s just that type of person.”

“Even the older guys on the team looked up to him,” adds former Avalanche left winger Cody McLeod.

Landeskog’s makeup had begun earning praise from the second he arrived in North America from Sweden. He played major junior hockey for the Kitchener Rangers in the Ontario Hockey League and became the team’s first European-born captain. Sherman praised his confidence after drafting Landeskog second in 2011, saying he was mature beyond his years.

“It was like he was 30 years old already, the way he handled himself, the way he talked to us, talked to the media,” says Ryan O’Reilly, now the Blues captain and still a friend of Landeskog’s. “Everyone respected him right away. It’s rare. It’s why he was named captain so young.”

Adds Hejduk: “I had half the maturity Gabe had at 18.”

Shortly after learning he’d become captain, Landeskog came to the Pepsi Center (now Ball Arena) for a passing-of-the-torch ceremony. Hejduk presented his successor with a burgundy Avalanche sweater featuring a white “C,” and Landeskog pulled it over his white button-up shirt. The two shook hands and posed for cameras.

When Landeskog looks back at those pictures, he can’t help but notice how young he looks. His beard had yet to grow in, and he’d fashioned his hair — lighter than it is now — to be spiky in the front.

“I feel old when I look back at those pictures, because I was definitely a little kid standing there next to (Hejduk),” he says.

“The first year, year and a half, with him, if we went out for dinner, it was like he wasn’t even allowed to have a glass of wine or a beer,” says former Avalanche center John Mitchell, adding that Landeskog struggled to win poker games on team flights.

Landeskog, who has gone from too young to drink to now sponsored by Bud Light, believes he might have been too uptight early on in his captaincy. He’s learned to relax a bit more — that a season is long and sometimes the best approach is to focus on himself. He can’t expect others to work hard or play well if he’s not doing it himself.

The Avalanche’s decision to toss Landeskog into the fray as a teenage captain allowed him to learn the role before the team entered the win-now mode it is in currently. But Colorado’s progression hasn’t been linear. In 2016-17, the Avalanche finished last in the league by 21 points. Landeskog frequently had to face tough questions from reporters when he didn’t have answers.

“It definitely takes a toll on you when you have to do that,” he says. “But at the same time, I always knew that was part of the responsibility and part of the job. Playing in the NHL, being able to wear the ‘C’ in the NHL, it’s a dream not many people get to experience.”

And in 2017-18, tides began to shift for the Avalanche. MacKinnon had his first superstar-level season, finishing second in Hart Trophy voting, and Landeskog and winger Mikko Rantanen both scored more than 20 goals. The trio ascended to become arguably the best line in hockey, and smart drafting and savvy trades gave Colorado a deep defensive core, led by Makar, the Norris Trophy runner-up as a 22-year-old this past season.

As expectations have risen, the team and its captain are still searching for a deep playoff run. The pieces are in place, and the Avalanche reached the second round each of the past three seasons. But they haven’t broken through.

This past season, the Landeskog-captained Avalanche reached the regular-season pinnacle, winning the Presidents’ Trophy, given annually to the team with the best record in the league, and they were a consensus favorite to win the Stanley Cup entering the playoffs.

Landeskog dominated the Blues in a first-round sweep, igniting the Avalanche with a Gordie Howe hat trick (fight, assist, goal) in Game 1.

“He’s the captain for a reason,” Makar said after that game.

But Colorado faltered in its next postseason matchup, against Vegas, letting a 2-0 series lead slip away and losing in the second round for the third consecutive year. The most complete Avalanche team of Landeskog’s career couldn’t get over the hump.

“I’m proud of this group,” a dejected Landeskog said after the game. “I’m excited to be a part of this group. I love all the guys in there.”

And they love him, too. Ahead of the season, MacKinnon called him “the perfect captain,” and Avalanche coach Jared Bednar described the captain as their emotional leader, someone who drives them into the fight on a nightly basis.

“Usually those types of guys, top-three picks, are franchise players,” Hejduk says. “It seems like that’s the case with Gabe. I hope he’s going to finish his whole career with the Avalanche.”

That’s what Hejduk did, spending all 14 of his seasons with Colorado, but it’s not a common path in today’s NHL.

After 10 years with the Avalanche and nine as its captain, and with so much shared history, Landeskog could be the exception.

Since he was 19, it’s felt like he would be. But the coming weeks will show if that reality has shifted.

#askos #anon #the athletic #gabriel landeskog #colorado avalanche

[ollieofthebeholder]

leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fic

Read from the beginning on Tumblr | Also on AO3

Chapter 58: Jon Prime

Eleven months. Eleven months since Jon had come back in time, since he’d knocked on Tim’s door, since he’d had Martin in his arms again. Eleven months of regrouping, of planning, of worrying and fearing and hoping in equal measures. Eleven months, almost to the day, to the minute. All of it leading to this.

It was worth it for the look on Elias’s face when he spun around to face him.

In the entire time Jon had worked for the Institute, and especially since taking the Archivist position, he had never once seen Elias anything but calmly, coolly, smugly in control. Occasionally angry, although he’d more heard that than seen it when he listened to the tapes much later, but still, whatever emotions he might have been feeling, his bearing had always suggested that he held the upper hand and knew it. Now, though, there was none of that in his expression. For the first time Jon had ever seen, Elias Bouchard looked as though the situation had got away from him somewhat. His eyes—Jonah’s eyes—were wide with alarm, his jaw was slack, and even if he didn’t look afraid—yet—he was definitely at the very least taken aback. It was a start.

“Jon? What are you doing here?” he demanded. “You should be—” He stopped and inhaled sharply as he scanned Jon’s face, probably noticing the worm scars if not how much more grey was in his hair than his counterpart’s. “You’re not Jon.”

“Oh, but I am,” Jon replied. He was keeping his powers in check, but barely; he could feel the static building in his veins, thrumming and crackling like electricity through a power grid, and while he wanted to unleash it on the man before him, he couldn’t just yet. It was too much of a risk with Martin so close. “Just not the Jon you think I am.”

“What—no.” Jonah—there was no doubt it was Jonah Magnus regarding him now—turned pale. “You’re not—no. How can this be? Tell me!”

Jon tsked. “That was never your gift, Jonah. Compelling people. The Eye gave you the ability to pry, to pluck secrets out of heads and put secrets in…but you don’t get to ask for them, do you? You are no Archivist.”

There was definitely a part of him that was enjoying this more than he should. It wasn’t the power over Jonah he thrilled to—he’d never been the megalomaniac sort—but he definitely relished not being the one at a disadvantage for once. He’d spent years as little more than a pawn in Jonah’s game, and it was refreshing to be, if not a queen, at the very least a knight. It was satisfying more than anything.

But satisfaction wasn’t the goal. Victory was.

Jonah pulled himself together and drew himself up. Jon had to give him some credit—it obviously cost him a good deal of effort, both mental and physical. Martin had thrown him for a loop, probably several times, and then Jon had appeared from behind and totally disorientated him. Beyond that, Jon had seen, when he crept up behind him, the large dark stain surrounding the tear on the back of his usually immaculate charcoal suit. Melanie may have only pretended to actually try and kill him, but she’d certainly done a number on him anyway.

“Jon, I do not have time for these games,” he began.

“On the contrary. We have all the time in the world.” Jon took a half-step back and to the side, away from both the soft part in the wall that led, more or less, to the Institute and the tunnel where Sasha and Melanie had secreted themselves.

As he’d hoped, Jonah took the bait, taking a full step towards him and away from Martin. He had two inches on Jon and obviously intended to use them to the utmost effect in an attempt to intimidate and cow Jon. It was the same thing he’d done after the Apocalypse, when he’d stood over Jon and belittled him,  making him shrink in on himself and bow under the weight of his own folly and shortcomings, highlighted all the places where it had been Jon’s decisions that led to that point.

Things were different now. Jon knew himself, he knew what his capabilities were as well as his limitations. And just as importantly, he had the evidence of his own eyes when he looked at Past Jon. Yes, Jon had made choices that led to the Apocalypse, but they’d been made with the limited information he had—information that had been limited because of Jonah. When he had all the data, he made much better decisions. Knowing, as they said, was half the battle.

In this case, perhaps, Knowing was all the battle.

Jon spared a quick glance for Martin. His smirk was almost a match for Jon’s own, and his eyes sparkled in a way Jon hadn’t seen in a long time. He stood tall and confident, shoulders squared and chin raised, and he still had a tight grip on the knife Melanie had pressed into his hand. He was also still far too close to Jon and Jonah, and not near enough to where he needed to be.

“Martin, get back. I don’t want you getting hurt,” he told him.

“Really, Jon, I don’t know what you think is going to happen,” Jonah said stiffly. “Whatever the issue is, we can settle it like gentlemen.”

“Ha!” Melanie’s disgusted laugh floated from the side. Jon looked over quickly to see her and Sasha crouched right in the entrance of the tunnel they’d found him in, arms linked tightly. Melanie’s other hand had a death grip on the rough stone of the tunnel’s arch. Jon knew exactly why. He’d heard the near-ethereal music, too, followed it down the tunnel, and realized the stone was ringing faintly with the tune from Denikin’s Calliophone, as though it were one of the pipes of the organ. If Sasha and Melanie hadn’t tumbled into him and told him they were ready for him, there was no telling how far he might have gone. Or how lost he might have been.

Something flickered over Martin’s face, but he did as Jon requested, taking three careful steps backwards until his heels hit the edge of the tower at the center of the Panopticon. He reached out with his free hand and steadied himself against it, then nodded once.

Jon stole another half-pace backwards, luring Jonah a little farther away from the others. “Settle this like gentlemen? You must be joking. What exactly do you think is going to happen? That you’re going to convince me to—to walk away from this? To just let it go?”

“You walked away from the Unknowing,” Jonah said tartly. “You left Tim alone to it with two people who, I am sure, could not possibly care less whether he lives or dies. And despite this—” He ran his eye over Jon’s face disdainfully. “—this getup, we both know that you walked away from Jane Prentiss and left Martin alone to her.”

Oh. That was a low blow. Jon stiffened, his rage nearly choking him. Despite knowing that it wasn’t true—that it hadn’t been true in either timeline—just the fact that Jonah would look him in the eye and even imply that he was the sort to abandon his people was enough to leave him momentarily speechless. And the fact that Jonah believed, or pretended to believe, that Jon would abandon Martin of all people…

He was about to explode, to start yelling, to reach out and strangle Jonah Magnus with his bare hands, when Martin started laughing. It was somewhere between the way he’d laughed when Jon had floated the idea of gouging their eyes out and running away together and the way he’d laughed when they’d been playing I Spy in the tombs. He sounded both incredulous and amused.

“You still have no idea, do you?” he said. “You still think you know what’s going on. This must really be embarrassing for you. Having to wait for an explanation.”

It was the last word that did it for Jon, grounding him and enabling him to recenter himself. Even if Martin’s voice hadn’t been enough, the reminder was. Once upon a time that no longer was, Jonah Magnus had forced Jon to monologue for him, forced him to recite his deeds and his plan before using him as a tool to trigger the end of the world. He had manipulated Jon at every turn, and then manipulated him once more at the end. And that was exactly what he was trying to do here. He was trying to goad Jon into doing something rash, into lashing out at him and tipping his hand too far.

He still thought he could win.

Jon didn’t take a deep breath; he wouldn’t give Jonah the satisfaction of knowing he’d rattled him. But he did square his shoulders and let his lips curl into a sneer. “I know you can’t look into my head, Jonah. But can’t you guess? Even if your master won’t give you the answers, can’t you even attempt to figure them out on your own?”

Anger flashed in Jonah’s cold grey eyes, and Jon knew he’d scored another point. There would be no grading of this exam—it was strictly pass/fail—but the more he could build things up on his side, the easier it would be. He hoped. “Don’t prevaricate, Jon. This is hardly the time. Either tell me what you think you are doing, or allow me to get back to watching the people you should be watching.”

“The Jonathan Sims you employ is at the Unknowing,” Jon told him coldly. “Along with the Martin Blackwood you employ. I was that Jonathan Sims, once, but not now. I am from the future, Jonah Magnus. A future that is not and will never be.”

“If you are trying to make a joke—”

Jon ran the backs of two fingers over his cheek, indicating the worm scars. “Jane Prentiss, twenty-sixth July, 2016.” He touched his side. “The Distortion, otherwise known as Michael, second October, 2016.” He held out his right hand, palm outward, and notched another point in his credit when Jonah flinched, almost imperceptibly. “Jude Perry, twenty-fourth April, 2017.”

Jonah’s eyes widened—and then, not entirely to Jon’s surprise, a slow smile crossed his face. “The Corruption, the Spiral, the Desolation. And that scar at your throat—yes, I saw that. The Slaughter?”

“The Hunt. Daisy Tonner, twenty-eighth April, 2017.” Jon pulled aside the collar of Martin’s sweater—not the green one he’d worn since Martin wrapped him in it for comfort after he ended the world or the soft blue one that Martin wore more often than any other because Jon had complimented him on it without thinking long before either of them knew they would end up together, but the slightly lopsided red one that was Jon’s new favorite, because it was the one Martin had patiently worked on while Jon read statements to feed himself, the one that was proof he didn’t really need to be able to see to knit. “This is the Slaughter. Melanie King, twenty-fifth February, 2018.” He let the collar fall back into place and smoothed it out carefully. “The others don’t show.”

“But you have them all.” Jonah’s smile broadened. “It worked. The ritual was a success, and you came back…thinking you could stop me.”

“Well done, Jonah,” Jon said, in the same voice one might otherwise use with a child who had successfully tied his own shoes for the first time. “That’s all absolutely correct.”

“Oh, Jon.” Jonah’s voice took on an almost pitying tone. “And you thought telling me that would mean…what, exactly? You think it won’t work now? That you’ve warned your—counterpart, and now he can escape it? He has three marks already, at least.”

Behind Jonah’s shoulder, Martin silently held up his free hand, displaying all five fingers. Jon swallowed down the bile that rose in his throat as he realized Martin was right. Apart from the two he’d had before they arrived—the Web and the Eye—and being stabbed by and later traveling through the halls of the Distortion, Past Jon had been kidnapped and essentially tortured by the Stranger, and his encounter with Julia and Trevor in America was probably enough to give him a mark from the Hunt.

“And even if he escapes,” Jonah continued, oblivious to what was going on behind him, “there are still the others. Even knowing, it’s unavoidable, Jon. Fear comes for us all, in whatever guise it wishes, and the Institute is a lure many of them cannot resist. They will be marked, and when they are—”

“No,” Jon interrupted, and this time he let the static crackle through his voice. “They may be marked, Jonah Magnus, but it will not be to your advantage. This ends here.”

Jonah sneered, but Jon had already seen the flash of fear in his eyes. “You think you’ve learned enough to stop me? I have two hundred years of experience and Knowledge. What do you bring to the table? A few tricks? This cheap attempt at intimidation? You cannot overpower me, Jon. Not now when I can see my triumph within my grasp. Thwart me, and I will simply find another.”

“Oh, no.” Jon took another diagonal step, turning his shoulders as he did so; as he expected, Jonah followed him. “There will be no one else. Not from you. Never again.”

“How, exactly, do you intend to stop me?” Jonah demanded, drawing himself up.

Jon snorted. “I had considered taking you out the way you took out one of the others. I considered shooting you. Like you did to Gertrude.” He swallowed hard. “And Martin.”

“I never—ah.” Jonah’s unpleasant smile smeared across his face again. “Yes, I suppose that would be quite effective in slowing you down, wouldn’t it? If I were to—take him out, shall we say?” He slipped one hand under his jacket.

“You don’t have it with you,” Jon said with contempt. “I don’t even need the Eye to know that. If you had brought your gun, you wouldn’t have bothered trying to get into Martin’s head. Not once you were down here. After all…” He waved one hand around the room. “Who would be here to witness? Only the Eye.”

“Perhaps I think he’s too useful to kill,” Jonah said.

Jon curled one hand into a fist and fought back the anger and nausea the way Jonah’s voice curled around the word useful brought up. He had to keep it together. Had to keep this going. “I could have beaten you to death, too. Like you did Jurgen Leitner. And framed me for.”

Again he took a half-step back, rotating slightly this time, and again Jonah followed. Jon glanced at Sasha, her eyes glittering with excitement and interest even from that distance, and raised his eyebrows in silent question. She nodded once. Jon blinked his acknowledgment and swiftly returned his gaze to Jonah. He’d managed it right. He now had the tunnel to the Institute at his back and the Panopticon at his front. He was directly between the two access points for the Beholder. He had Jonah exactly where he wanted him.

“Jurgen Leitner?” Jonah repeated. “That pompous ass?”

Martin and Melanie’s snorts were nearly identical. Jon didn’t bother to repress his smirk. “He’s living in those tunnels, you know. Has been for years. He used to help Gertrude out, too. He was going to tell me some of those details you thought my counterpart didn’t know, and I wasn’t knowledgeable enough to shield my thoughts enough that you didn’t know I was talking to someone. You slipped in while I was out of my office, tormented him the same way you did Gertrude, and beat him to death with a length of pipe. Left the body there. Of course Daisy thought I’d done it.”

“It would have been quite difficult for me to use you if you were in prison.”

“Oh, you made it clear that you didn’t actually think I’d done it. But you certainly brought me to Daisy’s attention. Dangled me in front of her. You knew she would come after me eventually, knew it would mark me. You used her as much as you used the rest of us, long before she joined the Institute.” Jon met Jonah’s eyes. It was far easier than it had ever been before. “Never again, Jonah. I will never allow you to use anyone for your evil purpose again. You don’t deserve the power you want to wield.”

“You could join me, you know,” Jonah offered.

Jon almost choked. “What?”

“Join me,” Jonah said again, and if Jon thought for a minute that Elias Bouchard was the type, he’d have expected the next sentence to be something along the lines of Together we can rule the galaxy as father and son. “You’ve seen the world, Jon. The world we created, in your time. You know how very beautiful it can be. Rulers together of a forsaken world. Overseers of all. Imagine it. You could choose who lived and died. Control how much suffering was inflicted on those who suffered. You know what that fear feels like when it flows through you…imagine controlling it, drinking the whole world. I know you wouldn’t be here if you had had that power. You would never have wanted to leave it.” He spread his hands out invitingly towards Jon. “We would live forever. Imagine it, Jon. It would be so easy, and so rewarding. All you need to do…is say the words.”

Martin’s face went white as a sheet. Those freckles that hadn’t been bleached to pale shadows by the Lonely stood out clearer than Jon had seen them in ages, and his lips parted slightly. The naked fear in his sightless eyes was almost physically painful. He was scared, worse than he’d been in a long time.

And something seemed to tighten around Jon’s wrist.

Martin knew Jon better than anybody in the universe, maybe better than Jon even knew himself. He knew how close to the edge Jon had been at times, how close he’d come to succumbing to the Eye and becoming its conduit. How hard Jon had fought to keep from becoming like Jude Perry, like Mike Crew, like Jared Hopworth. And he knew just how hard Jon was tempted at times to give in, how much Jon wanted to know what would happen if he did. How tired he got sometimes of the constant daily struggle. He alone, out of anybody, knew that there was a part of Jon that wanted to say yes.

But not enough of one. Not nearly enough of one. There was no temptation in the world strong enough to lure him away from Martin, nothing in the universe he wanted more than to spend whatever time he was granted with the man he loved. Martin had promised to kill him if he ever came close to agreeing to what Jonah was proposing, and Jon had sworn to himself then and there that he would never force Martin to make that call. He knew that Martin would never be able to live with himself if he did. And Jon loved him too much to hurt him that way if there was any other option.

But Martin couldn’t see his face. For all he knew, Jon was seriously considering the offer. Jon would have to reassure him.

“If you think,” he said, “for one moment that I would agree to that knowing what it would mean, you’re an even bigger idiot than I thought you were. And that, Jonah Magnus, is saying something.”

Martin drew in a sharp breath and closed his eyes for a brief moment, then seemed to relax. Jonah’s smile melted away. He opened his mouth to say something. Jon didn’t give him the chance. “I have seen your ‘forsaken world’, and I have seen what it cost everyone who lived in it. I have felt the pain and suffering of those within it, and I know that there is no one, Watched or Watcher, who escaped that pain and suffering. Even those who thought they wanted it, in the end, found they did not. Even you would have learned that, sooner or later.” He narrowed his eyes at Jonah. “And I would sooner gouge my own eyes out, here and now, than share any kind of power with you.”

Jon again saw the cold, pale fury in Jonah’s eyes that he had last seen when Martin defied him after the Apocalypse, but this time it didn’t go away. “That can be arranged.”

“I don’t think so.” Jon felt the static building up again, and this time, he didn’t try to hold it back. “Your time has come.”

Power thrummed through his veins. It was the way he’d felt when facing down the Not-Them both times, when he’d struck down Jared Hopworth, when he’d caught hold of Helen’s lie, but somehow it was stronger. Again he felt that tightening around his wrist, and he could feel a power flowing through that as well, fueling him, giving him strength and courage.

“For two hundred years, you have sat atop your ivory tower and pretended to rule,” he said. The words came easily, leading Jon to wonder if he was saying them or the Ceaseless Watcher was. “You have set yourself up as a god among men, and you have believed yourself to be untouchable. You have manipulated and pulled and lured, and through it all, you have believed yourself to be endearing yourself to your master. But It Knows You, and it Knows that it is not fear you have feasted on all these years, merely power over others. You have desired only your own ends and served no one but yourself.”

He was aware of an echo to his voice, as though someone else was speaking the words with him. At first he thought it was just that, an echo, or maybe the Beholder resonating through him, but he recognized the second voice for what it was at about the same moment Jonah’s eyes widened, and the fear in them wasn’t fleeting. It was Gertrude Robinson’s voice joining Jon’s, maybe prompting him, maybe lending her power to his. Maybe it was just a manifestation of his power after all, enhancing Jonah’s fear.

Jon could taste that fear. It was exhilarating and intoxicating. Whatever was around his wrist seemed to tighten further, reminding him that it was there, reminding him of what he was trying to do. Keeping him grounded. In that instant, Jon recognized it as a manifestation of his bond to Martin, the one Annabelle Cane had enhanced, and it gave him a renewed sense of conviction.

“Two hundred years of pain and death and misery,” he continued, “and all of it spent running from your own fears. Know now that Fear has come for you, Jonah Magnus. You cannot escape it and you cannot run from it.”

“No—no—no,” Jonah gasped, backing away from Jon, or trying to. “J-Jon, please—”

“For our Tim,” Jon snarled, and Gertrude Robinson’s voice and all their combined power joined in with him. “For our Sasha, and for Gertrude Robinson, and for all the others you have killed and trapped and harmed. For my Martin. For every life you took, every dream you destroyed, every ounce of pain and fear you inflicted on others—let it all be turned back on you tenfold. Feel it all, and for the first time in your life, Jonah Magnus, you will truly Know.”

“Jon—please—I don’t want to die,” Jonah begged.

“Neither did they.” Jon raised his voice and felt his hair stand on end. “Ceaseless Watcher, turn your gaze upon this miserable, pathetic, wretched thing!”

The light in the room flashed as though struck by lightning, but a brilliant, blazing green, coming from both directions and centered directly on Jonah Magnus, who began to scream. Jon felt the fear slam into him, filling him near to bursting, thrumming through his veins and body like he’d simultaneously grabbed hold of a live electrical wire and tried to drink from a fire hose like a straw. Either Elias Bouchard’s body was shrinking or Jon had grown, or perhaps he was merely floating above the floor, but whatever the case, he was now looking down on the man from above.

In the exact same instant, Martin lunged forward and, with a roar of satisfaction and an accuracy that Jon Knew would not have been possible without their bond, drove the knife with both hands into the heart of Jonah Magnus’s body.

Elias’s scream rose to a fever pitch, joined by more voices—six, if Jon was any judge: the screams of the other five men Jonah Magnus murdered to extend his life, and the scream of the original Jonah Magnus himself, a dry, dusty sort of scream, desperate and frightened and pained. The green light flared up and filled the room in a blinding, soundless explosion—

—and then, suddenly, it was gone, leaving a vacuum of silence and the ruins of a prison guard tower.

Jon’s feet hit the ground—so he had been floating after all—and he stumbled slightly. Where Elias Bouchard had been, there was nothing but a scorch mark on the stone, and Martin was half-kneeling in the center of the guard tower, knife still in hand, but nothing remaining of Jonah Magnus’s original body but a scattering of dust.

Martin blinked twice, dropped the knife, and got to his feet, turning unerringly in Jon’s direction. “Jon?” he called.

“Martin,” Jon choked out. He reached out his hands desperately for Martin, wanting to hold him close, to tell him they’d done it, that they were safe, that it was over, that it had worked. That Jonah Magnus was dead and would never harm anyone else again. That they had won.

That he loved him, so very, very much.

He made it no more than a couple of steps before his strength failed him and he pitched forward, gasping. Two strong arms caught him and pulled him close. The last thing Jon heard was Martin desperately, frantically screaming his name.

And then everything went black.

#ollie writes fanfic #leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall) #tma #the magnus archives #jonmartin #smiting #intimidation tw #manipulation tw #belittling tw #stabbing tw #mention of murder (inc. brutal pipe murder) #we're so close to the end y'all #I can't believe it

[boydidthatgowell]

the two times ethan yelled at mark and the one time mark yelled back

requested: no

pairings: amyiplier, platonic crankiplier

summary: ethan begins to over think and doubt his abilities to meet mark's expectations after he notices how quickly tyler learned to edit. he expressed his emotions in an unhealthy way, in the end, mark is there to reassure ethan that he is good enough.

this takes place in february of 2017

shit shit shit

ethan was on the brink of a meltdown.

the editing program had crashed before he could save the file. and when he opened the project after restarting the monitor, the gameplay timeline had removed all of the splits and zooms. this meaning: nothing was lined up. the gameplay was longer than the actual facecam video.

ethan could feel his heart begin to sink. out of everything that could have happened, this was the worst.

after tyler's first edit, ethan thought that if he perfected the video that mark assigned him, he could prove to mark that he was worth keeping around, that he didn't deserve to be replaced.

something that ethan learned that day, is that apparently the type of monitor he used didn't work well when rushed. evidence being that the second he started rushing to check if there were any old copies in the auto save folder, everything froze.

everything.

the mouse, the keyboard, the entire system just ... stopped.

and of course, there was no use in worrying about it. to his knowledge, there was nothing he could do to fix it. the situation should have been fairly easy to explain to mark, amy and kathryn.

... should have been.

it was about the time that ethan was going under the desk to unplug the mouse and keyboard when mark and tyler walked up the stairs, coming from the main room.

tyler stopped mid - sentence when he saw ethan. yet, he wasn't the first one to speak.

"hey man? did something happen?" mark questioned, walking towards the desk and crouching down.

ethan was startled, he whipped his head around to see a confused mark and tyler's legs. he couldn't quite see all of tyler since he was still under the desk.

ethan crawled out from under the desk, unable to explain himself. mark stood with him, face to face.

"what happened?" mark repeated, crossing his arms nonchalantly.

" ... uhm, okay, so everything was fine!! i was close to rendering it and the video was perfect, you would have absolutely loved it, but, but it uhm, it crashed!! everything went down and when i went back into post, i tried to see if there were ... if there were any auto saved copies because all of the splits had been removed for whatever reason but when i went to check for copies, it all froze!! everything!! i'm honestly so sorry i don't know what to do and it's just so ... i'm so sorry, mark. this is one hundred percent on me and i promise i’ll fix it somehow."

mark smiled in a bewildered manner and cocked his head, "ethan, it's fine man. it wasn't your fault, no need for stress. how can i help?” he offered, uncrossing his arms and shooting an empathetic expression at ethan.

“i don’t ... i don’t need help, mark,” ethan plopped himself back into the white chair, pressing restart on the computer for the third time, “i have it under control, it’s ... everything’s fine!!”

the harsh tone caught the other two off guard, given, this was ethan ... ethan never raised his voice unless he was kidding around or excited about something. mark shared a similar concerned look with tyler, and opened his mouth to say something before he was interrupted by ethan’s trail/mumble of nonsense that sounded something like: 

“it’s okay, it’s okay. the video should be done within the next couple of hours if i can get this damn thing working again.”

ethan sighed briefly as he was finally able to type his password in again and the system began to gradually come back to life. he soon became fixated on replacing the cuts that had been mysteriously trashed.

“ ... alright, man. if you need anything, tyler will be at my desk. i have to run up to best buy for another memory card ... for the uh ... the live stream on friday.” there was no point in mark wasting his breath, as ethan wasn’t paying an ounce of attention to what was being said.

tyler mouthed something to mark, and mark gave a reassuring nod towards him, gesturing at the youngest of the three.

------

thursday, eight fourty seven in the morning.

amy, mark and kathryn were all in the parking lot, chatting about preparation of the upstairs office, booting up the power strips and marking things off the checklist for the charity live that would be happening the next day.

“wait, why ... why is ethan’s car here? he usually comes in at nine fifteen.” kathryn pointed and chuckled at the dark blue four door sitting at the end of the lot.

mark approached the front door and pulled his keys out of his pocket, “it seems it’s unlocked, too.” mark ignored kathryn’s observation and huffed. “the door?” amy felt the need to clarify.

no one clarified though.

the girls dropped their bags at the front of the bottom floor, making their way to the right of the building to gather camera equipment to move it to the computer room.

mark didn’t follow, though. he calmly walked up the stairs, and to no one’s surprise, ethan sat at his work space, clicking away at some video timeline. the lights were off, so the only thing illuminating ethan’s face was his screen. mark didn’t even bother circling around the railing. he stood on the second to top step and rested his elbows on the white rail, holding three to - go cups in one of those cup carrier thingies.

“morning.” mark stated, more to get ethan’s attention than anything. “oh, good morning!! weird, i uh ... i didn’t even ... come in ... hear you - hear you come in.” ethan smiled half - heartedly. he pulled sweater paws over his hands and  tiredly rubbed his glassy eyes, adjusting to the morning light spilling through the windows. mark sighed and furrowed his eyebrows, finishing that last step and walking over to where ethan was seated. the older male reached over the younger one’s shoulder and dangled one of the cups to the left of ethan’s face.

“here, coffee, bud.”

ethan blinked through the sleepiness, “hey!! thanks mark.” he yawned mid - sentence.

mark set the cup reserved for tyler on the table in the center of the room, taking a cautious sip of his own coffee. he, at last, dropped his bag at the foot of his desk and leaned against it, practically sitting on it. he observed the obviously exhausted boy as he hurried to render a section of the project he was working on. ethan shook his head dramatically and spun his chair towards the one standing, “so!! did you get the chance to check your business email this morning? i sent you the finalized video that i exported yesterday evening. i was gonna have you review it and give me some feedback? i was just curious if you’d gotten it yet because i worried it would’ve had some trouble getting to you because of the computer problems yesterday that did get worked out, by the way - “

“and by yesterday evening you mean a quarter past four o’clock this morning, right?”

ethan shut his mouth quickly, turning his attentiveness near his screen once more, “ ... mhm.” he bit his tongue, shifting it around his mouth a bit.

mark really didn’t have the energy to watch a stressed ethan ramble, it was a pain for both of them. he liked to think he’d known ethan long enough to pick up on the fact that if ethan was hiding something, no matter what it may be, he’d purposely talk a lot to cover it up.

mark sipped at his beverage again, twisting the cup in his hand, “did you sleep at all last night?”

ethan pepped up his attitude slightly, “no, but you can get so much done if you don’t sleep. it’s fine, it’s not like i’ve been up for three days straight.” he chuckled lightly, scanning his eyes over the fourth bar in the timeline, double checking subtitle checkpoints.

mark stopped his meaningless hand motions and squinted. he clicked his tongue, “but you have.”

ethan frustratingly lifted his hands from the keyboard and folded them under his chin, turning his neck to look up at mark, “i’m sorry?”

mark placed his half empty coffee cup on the edge of his desk and placed his hands back on the surface, using it for balance, “almost every file, email, whatever, that i’ve received from you in the past ... not only three days, but almost week, i’m pretty sure, has come in at anywhere from one to five a.m. i’m not saying you haven’t slept in a week, but if you’re sending me messages in the dead hours of night, and then spending ... what? eleven? twelve hours a day here at the office ... when do you have time to sleep?”

ethan couldn’t speak. he’d been called out. there was nothing else to it.

“no, really ethan, tell me. i want to know. tell me when you have time to sleep.” mark pushed, raising his eyebrows, watching as ethan’s eyelids drooped.

“like ... seven to nine. usually. sometimes less.” he muttered, not bothering to make eye contact.

“two hours?”

ethan huffed angrily, “yes!! jesus fuck, mark, yes. yes. i have a horrible sleep routine. but look, man!! i’m here, right? i’m alive ... right? great!! no reason to fucking worry.”

i will make mark proud of me. i will complete more projects than tyler will ever even be able to comprehend. he won’t replace me. i’m a great editor.

ethan’s hands were practically shaking, and he hadn’t even had any of his coffee yet. however, he removed his hands from his face and hovered them over his keyboard again, thinking about what he was going to do before clicking the tab button a few times.

mark groaned in a fed - up manner and reached out to use his foot to drag ethan’s chair towards him.

“mark, what’re you - “

mark placed both of his hands on either arms of the seat, trapping the younger one and looking down at him, “first of all, do not raise your voice with me in my office. secondly, i need you to go home.”

ethan gritted his teeth, “you what?”

“i need you to go home and sleep or i need you to sleep on the couch. you will not work today.”

“you’re being ridiculous, just let me - “ ethan attempted to push himself back towards his work space. the attempt failed terribly, though, as mark just gripped the seat tighter, “you will not work today, ethan. that is an order. as your boss, i am telling you that you will take a nap today, and you will not work again until i see that you’re well rested. do you understand?”

“i don’t need a nap, i can push through it.” ethan protested, choosing to fixate his stare at mark’s torso rather than his face.

“do you understand me, ethan?” mark repeated, uplifting his eyebrows and making his voice quieter, yet clear somehow.

ethan thought for multiple seconds and gave up. he wasn’t going to win this argument, no matter how badly he wanted to. mark was his boss, and he couldn’t risk losing his job when that was the last thing he needed. he shut his eyes momentarily and nodded, “yeah. okay.”

mark grinned approvingly, “thank you,” he let go of his grasp on ethan’s chair and stood up straight, “there should be a blanket on the couch ... the yellow one.” he watched as ethan pushed himself from his spot and weakly trudged to the couch, where he collapsed. within minutes, he was out like a light.

------

ethan fluttered his eyelashes, chatter awakening him.

“hi tyler!!” was all he could hear faintly. at first, he was sort of confused and his mind was cloudy with exhaustion. a few seconds after becoming aware of where he was and what had happened, he rubbed his forehead and sat up on one elbow. he glanced around the room, no one was on the second floor other than him.

what time is it ...

he glanced over to the wall clock.

two p.m.

it was two p.m.

he had wasted five hours of precious work time, all because mark had ordered him to.

i should have argued more.

he shot up off the couch swiftly, barely making it to his computer in two steps. he desperately slid his mouse around the mouse pad, remembering he hadn’t actually shut his computer off, and just let it fall into sleep mode. the first page to pop up was the file folder for all of the projects he was in charge of. he sped through all of them until he found the one he’d been working on that morning. he needed to finish it before lunch so he could start working on a markiplier makes around four p.m.

just his luck, lunch was an hour and a half prior to when he’d woken up.

great, i’m behind.

“oh, you’re awake.” amy’s voice lingered.

ethan whipped around to the top of the stairs to see amy, mark and tyler close behind, “y ... yep!! i feel great, and, uhm ... i’m working on getting this sketch rendered and finalized by four, and then the markiplier makes should be finished by around - tonight. tonight, it’ll be done.” ethan smiled, unknowingly why he did. all of his actions at that moment were kind of involuntary anyways, given, he had just come from a semi - deep slumber.

“right, that’s fine. take your time with it, bud. tyler just got here to help us set up and sort cords and power strips into sections so we’re prepared for tomorrow morning. kathryn just went to the dollar store to grab us snacks for the stream. and, yes i made sure to ask for nerds, because i knew you’d want them.” amy explained to ethan. “yeah!! thanks dude. i promise that i’ll help you guys out once i’m finished with this.”

mark held his tongue whilst he and tyler started taking the camera and tripod out of their respective cases.

“of course, just, like i said,” amy made her way closer to ethan, “take your time. no one is rushing you.” ethan grinned in response, to which amy ruffled his hair and walked to the other two boys.

------

thursday, eleven fifty two at night.

all five of them were in the office, discussing their plans for the live stream.

while ethan would usually be laying face - up on the floor during these types of meetings, he was now seated in front of his computer.

the only one on their computer, to specify.

normally this would be fine, but, they were trying to talk, and ethan was clicking away like it was no one’s problem.

“and we’ll definitely play that spongebob movie game, that’s why i bought - “ 

click ... click click clack

“ ... hey bud, you can save and exit now, we’re done working today, alright?” mark kept civil, creasing one leg to rest on top of the other and looking over at ethan from the rest of the group. he beamed pleasantly, that was to no avail, though, as ethan paused for a couple seconds before tapping against the keys again.

mark had an endeavor to wrap up the meeting without being cut in on. that didn’t work out for him, regardless.

“we’ll definitely have to get the xbox out of the storage room sometime tonight though, or we’ll forget about - “

clack clack ... click ... click click click clack

“ethan, it’s okay man, you can put everything away now. you can pick up where you left off on monday. don’t worry about it.” mark didn’t show any signs of smiling that go - around. he only examined the boy once more.

“mm, yeah. okay, okay.” ethan mumbled, continuing his speedy pace of editing.

mark locked eyes with amy, expressing mild anger. amy showed sympathy towards her boyfriend, “it’s okay, pay no mind.” she mouthed inaudibly. mark suspired noticeably, “i may have to dust an old flash drive, so please stay patient with me as i - “

click

“ethan - “

“mark!! what?”

“ethan.”

“i’m trying to work - “

“ethan!!”

the yelling match was expected.

mark’s fist against the desk was not.

ethan, along with everyone else, jumped slightly at mark’s quick course of action.

the youngest of the group stood, astonishingly, tranquilly.

and just ... walked out.

he didn’t bother to grab his phone, keys, or glasses. he simply just, walked down the stairs and pushed open the front door to walk out.

mark pinched the bridge of his nose, inhaling sharply and choosing to follow after his distressed friend. he refused to look at the others as he practically sprung out of his desk chair and sprinted through the office, trying to get outside.

ethan was faced away from the building, hands shoved in his hoodie pocket and his entire body quivering.

“hey,” mark started, “i’m sorry for getting mad, i shouldn’t have done that ... but, please, what’s going on with you?”

the blue haired male turned around, laughing in disbelief, “what’s going on with me? really? so, tyler just ... walks in here one day and you guys decide to make a video where he edits some ... some shit gameplay and ... and he ... he sits at my desk and ... and uses my desktop to edit your video and then you have the audacity to say that he did better than you thought he’d do? really? without even ... and then you don’t even have the courtesy to reassure me - ... anyone that he won’t be replacing someone on the team? you can’t even take the time to say that he’s not better than me ... or amy? or ... or kathryn? seriously, mark? you are unbelievable sometimes, fucking ... “

mark had barely made it three paces out the door before his jaw hung open ever so slightly, thick eyebrows furrowed, “is ... that really what all of this is about? is this seriously a jealousy thing? if it’s a jealously thing ethan, just know that you don’t have a reason to feel,” mark stopped to take a deep breath, “ ... to feel envious of tyler. i can swear to you, you have nothing to worry about, ethan. falling under editing and film skills, he is nothing compared to you. i don’t want you to feel like you have to prove yourself to me.” he softened his voice a little, not wanting to frighten the smaller boy anymore than he already had, “you don’t have anything to prove to me.”

ethan clenched his jaw and began to shake harshly, slow, chilly wind blowing through his colored hair and putting a subtle blush on the tip of his nose. he fought the urge to cry. out of everything that could be happening right now, he definitely didn’t need his boss to see him act like a little bitch.

despite his wishes, two tears fell from his right eye as he blinked, “ ... i,” ethan looked down and gave a miserable smile at his grey sneakers as he did his best not to break out into a full sob, “i just wanted you to be proud of me, man. i wanted to show you that i could ... exceed past tyler’s abilities so you wouldn’t fire me and replace me with him because ... i don’t know, i really like this job, mark, i really do!! ... i just don’t wanna lose it because there’s someone better than me.”

mark muddled his face and shifted his stance, “i am proud of you, i am so proud of you ... what do you mean? did you see what you did in a date with markiplier? that shit was insane. i don’t understand.” he felt comfortable enough to take a couple steps closer to the other.

a twenty pound lump formed at the base of ethan’s throat, haziness overtook his vision and his knees began to feel as if they were as weak as mechanical pencil led. “i don’t deserve this job. i’m not good enough. i don’t meet your expectations, mark. i don’t work hard enough. there’s someone better out there.”

the eldest felt his chest crumble, “you’re joking.”

ethan cocked his head, and then completely understood what his boss had stated.

he shook his head disapprovingly.

“you work incredibly hard, man. are you serious? you’re so motivated and driven to create all the time. which is awesome. i’ve, honestly, i’ve never met someone as self - prompted as you. your work ethic is, most of the time, flawless. other than when you sleep for less than two hours and work for sixteen, yeah man, you’re a fucking legend in post. editing, filming, directing, audio work, all of it, you’re amazing. you are good enough, ethan. for me, for amy, for kathryn, for tyler. there’s no one i’d rather have in your place than you ... i am so glad i hired you. we’d be no where without you.”

ethan sniffed inward and took a deep breath, “can i hug you?”

“absolutely, bud.”

#markiplier #mark fischbach #crankgameplays #ethan nestor #peebles #amy nelson #a date with markiplier

[itsadamcole]

under the mistletoe

fem!reader x nick jackson

reader and Nick have had feelings for each other for years, and neither have admitted it. Until the two find themselves under the mistletoe ... “did you just kiss me?”

word count: 3k+

warnings: fluffy, nick being cute. a little bit of drinking

— day 5. let’s gooo —

masterlist || request an imagine here

***

You're on the phone with your best friend as you get dressed to go to his house for the annual Jackson Christmas party.

It's a party that Matt and Nick Jackson throw every year, and you've gone every year since they started throwing the party. Their family is invited. Both their families, their blood family and their wrestling family.

You've known Matt and Nick Jackson since June 2016, when the three of you were in Ring of Honor together. You signed with ROH and the first people you met were Matt, Nick, Kenny Omega, Adam Cole, Adam Page, and Cody Rhodes while they were backstage waiting for their segment to start. Kenny wasn't in Bullet Club yet but he was good friends with everyone in the group. Nick was the first person in the group to talk to you.

"Hey, I've never seen you around here," Nick said to you. "You new?"

You smiled and teased him saying, "Maybe. Who's asking? I'm not talking to someone important, am I?"

"You're only talking to a member of the greatest faction in ROH history," Nick said, teasing you back. "Nick Jackson, former ROH World Tag Team Champion." He held out his hand and you shook it.

Smiling, you said, "Y/N L/N, former NWA World Women's Champion."

And that was the beginning of a friendship that's lasted almost five years. You've become close to Nick, Matt, Kenny, Cole, Page, and Cody. You were thinking about forming a new faction with them before Cole left ROH in 2017 to go to NXT. Then the Young Bucks, Kenny, Adam Page, and Cody all signed to AEW. You joined them in AEW, where you're the number one contender for Hikaru Shida's AEW Women's World Championship.

Nick, who's on the phone with you now, asks, "What color are you wearing tonight? It's for science class."

Laughing, you say, "You haven't had a science class in years. Silver, by the way." You're tying the halter top of your dress behind your neck.

The dress you're wearing is silver, obviously. From the waist up is tight, hugging your muscular figure. There's a sparkly design on the top and the neck dips down, revealing the smallest amount of cleavage. The ties to tie the halter top are made of sheer silver fabric. The skirt flares out and ends right above your knees. The whole dress is satin.

"Gotcha," Nick says. "So I'll wear a black suit with a silver tie."

Since you've been invited to the annual Jackson Christmas party, you and Nick have always found some way to match each other while matching that year's theme. This year is formal attire, meaning the women wear dresses and the men wear suits or at least a tie. Last year was ugly sweaters, so you and Nick wore matching ugly Christmas sweaters.

You do your makeup at your desk. Your phone sits on speaker as you do a silver smokey eye look with a dark red lip.

A door opens on the other line and Matt, Nick's older brother, says, "Let me guess. Y/N is wearing something silver."

Nick laughs and says, "Maybe. She's on the phone."

Matt says, "Hi, Y/N. You on your way yet?"

"I'm finishing up my makeup then I am leaving," you giggle. "You two won't have to go much longer without seeing me."

Nick says, "Hurry up, Y/N.

"Makeup is art, Mr. Jackson. It takes more than a few minutes to do," you say, smiling. "I'll be there in a few minutes."

Your best friend laughs and says, "Well, you're only like five minutes away so I expect to see you in about ten."

Finally finishing your makeup, you say, "Make that seven. I'm leaving in two minutes. See you soon."

"Bye, Y/N," Nick says, hanging up the phone.

Just the thought of seeing Nick in a suit makes the butterflies flutter in your stomach. Nick has always looked handsome in a suit and it's honestly making you very excited that you get to see him in a suit tonight, especially in a suit with a tie that matches your dress.

After putting on a pair of three-inch heels, you take your phone and clutch before leaving your penthouse apartment just outside of Jacksonville. The Young Bucks don't live that far away. They don't live together because they have their own families but they live close together too. Within a block or two of each other. You live about three miles away. It's a five-minute drive so you get in your 2-year-old Toyota Corolla and drive to Nick's house.

The drive is extremely short as you try and calm your nerves. You're excited to see Nick but you're nervous about what he'll think of the dress.

You've had feelings for Nick for years. You've never told him. You know he doesn't feel the same way about you. He's had girlfriends, quite a few over the past four years, so if he had any feelings for you then he'd have told you by now.

After you get out of the car, after parking it in the driveway of Nick's house, you walk up to his front door. You knock and wait for someone to open the door.

Matt answers the door. He wears a crazy Christmas suit. You laugh. "Look at you," you say. "Does Dana mind the crazy outfit?"

"She offered to take care of the kids this year at our place," he says. "So she has no idea until someone posts a picture on Instagram or any other social media."

Laughing again, you walk inside.

Matt closes the door behind you and yells, "Nick! Your girlfriend is here!"

Nick calls, "Mel's here?"

You raise your eyebrows at Nick's brother and ask, "Who's Mel?"

"This girl that Nick's talking to," Matt says. "Don't tell Dana but she's kinda hot."

You feel your heart sink into your stomach and all you can say is, "Oh."

Nick walks into the living room and Matt's eyes widen. You blink at Matt as Nick says, "I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long, Y/N. Cole and his boys are on their way. Kenny, Page, and Cody are already drinking all my alcohol in the kitchen. Everyone else will be here shortly."

You look over at Nick and smile. He looks really hot in that suit. He smiles at you. "You look good in the silver tie," you say, trying not to let what Matt said affect you. "Matches me."

Nick laughs and says, "That is kind of the point. We always match."

He hugs you and presses a kiss to the top of your head. Matt looks between the two of you before he says, "I'm gonna make sure that Kenny, Page, and Cody are doing okay." He leaves.

You watch Matt walk away and Nick asks, "What's up with him? He always stays and talks.

"Don't know," you say. "Anyway, I was told that you were talking to someone. Who is she? Tell me!"

Nick laughs and says, "Her name is Mel. She's nice, and hot. I just don't know how I feel about her."

"I should meet her," you say. "The best friend always meets the new girlfriend first."

Nick laughs again and says, "Yeah, that's true."

Matt calls from the kitchen, "Y/N! Come here!"

"I'll be right back," you say to Nick before walking off to the kitchen.

In the kitchen are Matt, Kenny, Adam Page, Cody, and Brandi Rhodes. You approach the group and ask, "Yes?"

The older Jackson says, "So, tell me something, Y/N. How long have you had some kind of feelings for my brother?"

You blink at Matt and say, "I don't."

"That's such bull," Kenny says. "I see it. The rest of us see it."

Matt says, "When I told you about Mel, all you said was 'oh' and your face just completely fell, Y/N."

You cross your arms over your chest and say, "That doesn't mean that I have feelings for him, Matt."

Cody asks, "You haven't told him, have you?"

You shake your head, defeated. Everyone already knows so you say, "Any time I try or I get the chance to, he tells me he's talking to someone new. He has no idea."

Matt says, "Tonight's the night. I know it is."

You start to walk away, wanting to be done with this conversation, and say, "Yeah, right."

You approach Nick in the living room talking to Adam Cole and his Undisputed Era boys. Nick looks over at you and smiles. "Hey," he says. "What did Matt want?"

"He wanted my opinion on the gift he got you for tonight," you lie.

Cole says, "I hope you gave a good opinion on what Matt got his brother." The group kind of laughs.

You smile and say, "I definitely did." There's a knock on the door. "I'll go get that. You guys keep this conversation going."

Nick goes back to talking to the boys and you go answer the door.

When you answer the door, you're greeted by a beautiful girl with long brown hair and hazel eyes. She's wearing a red satin strapless dress. It's short. The skirt ends about halfway down her thighs.

"Hi," she says cheerfully. "I'm Mel. Is Nick Jackson here?"

You give her a kind smile and say, "Yeah. He's in the living room. Silver tie."

She thanks you and walks inside. You shut the door and watch as she embraces Nick, hugging him and kissing him.

After watching that, you walk into the kitchen, rejoining Matt, Kenny, Page, Cody, and Brandi. "I need a drink," you announce. "Like pronto."

Page says, "I can help with that."

More and more people make their way into the house. The lights all come on and Christmas music is being played from a stereo in the living room.

Wrestlers from AEW, WWE, ROH, and other promotions all attend the party. Members of Nick and Matt's family attend as well.

It's about nine, and the party has been going for about two hours now. You're standing in the doorway of the kitchen from the dining room. People are scattered all throughout the house but these two rooms are the least crowded.

You watch Nick and his new girlfriend as they laugh and talk in the kitchen. You sip your drink and can't help but be a little jealous.

While you've been distancing yourself from Nick, he's also made no efforts to talk to you.

Matt walks up and stands beside you as you take a sip of your class of whiskey. "I hope you realize that you're standing under the mistletoe," he says. You glance up and take another sip.

"Well, look at that," you say. "I'm under the mistletoe with no one to kiss."

Both of you laugh and Matt says, "Well, there's one person we both know you'd rather be standing under the mistletoe with. I think he name starts with N and ends with a K."

You sigh at the mention of Nick and say, "He hasn't even tried to talk to me. Like, I might be keeping my distance a bit but he hasn't even checked in on me like he usually does. And we're matching." You pout.

An idea pops into Matt's mind and he says, "I'll be right back." He walks into the kitchen. You watch as he says something to Nick and Mel then leads Mel away. Nick approaches you.

"Hey," he says, leaning against the doorframe opposite you. "You doing okay? I know we haven't been talking as much as we normally do at these thing."

You force a smile and say, "I'm doing fine. I've just been kind of hanging around with Brandi, Britt, and Marina."

Nick smiles and says, "Well, Mel's been wanting for formally meet you. I've been telling her stories about our promos and the they wanted us to be in rival factions in ROH. Plus, I've been kind of introducing her to a lot of people here since she doesn't really know a lot of people. I hope you understand that since you know a lot of people."

That's true and a very valid excuse. You can't complain about that. That thought never even crossed your mind. Mel isn't a wrestler like the other girls that Nick has dated. She may know names but has never met anyone here.

"Yeah," you say. "Of course I understand. I know a lot of people and I'm friends with a lot of people here."

Your best friend says, "I knew you'd understand. Now, how about we go meet Mel. How does that sound?"

You nod, glancing above you at the mistletoe.

Nick starts to walk away. The alcohol you've been drinking gives you enough courage to say, "Hey, Nick? Wait a second."

He turns and looks back at you. You grab his hand and pull him back under the mistletoe. "What's up?" he asks.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you get on your toes and kiss Nick. Your lips brush against his, unsure of the kiss. You gain some courage and kiss him harder.

The kiss lasts for about two seconds before Nick pulls back. Your eyes search his for any emotion as he asks, "Did you just kiss me?"

"Mistletoe," is all you say. "Look up."

Your best friend looks up and spots the mistletoe. He smiles and says, "Oh."

Anxiety starts to rise within you as you meet Nick's eyes. He leans down and his lips meet yours. You're confused but you kiss him back.

Nick's hands move so they're on your cheeks, cupping your face. You grab a fistful of Nick's suit jacket and he presses you against the doorframe.

Your lips move slowly against Nick's, enjoying the moment. Your heart races in your chest as you realize that this is actually happening. This is a real thing now. Everything you've felt for Nick coming out into the open.

There's a whistle and you look into the kitchen, seeing Kenny, Adam Page, Cody, Brandi, and Britt looking at you and Nick.

"I, um," you stammer. "I need to go get some fresh air." You leave the house from the back door. You step out onto the back deck, which is lit up by a few string of lights above the deck.

You lean against the railing and look out over the backyard. There's a pool and a wrestling ring. A forrest sits beyond the backyard.

You kissed Nick and he kissed you. He kissed back. He's talking to someone and he kissed you while Mel was in the other room.

The door opens behind you and you look back to see Nick. You sigh and say, "I overstepped my boundaries. I know that. I'm sorry."

It's quiet until Nick says, "She left. Mel, I mean. I told her that it was nice to know her and that she's a nice girl, but I also told her that I think I have feelings for someone else."

You raise your eyebrows and you turn around. Nick's about five feet away from you. "So you gave her the speech," you say, teasing Nick.

He laughs and says, "I gave her the speech, yeah." You smile. "Now, here I am. Finally telling you how I feel about you. I like you, Y/N. I have for years. All those girls, I was with them to maybe distract myself from you because you're too damn good for me and I know you don't have feelings for me."

You smile and get flustered as you say, "I never said that I don't have feelings for you, Nick. Actually, it's the opposite. I've liked you since pretty much the day we met. I was almost jealous of all those girls you were talking to or dated. Scratch that, I was jealous of all those girls you talked to or dated because I wish I was them."

A wide smile forms on Nick's lips and he says, "All this time, I could have asked you out and been with you but instead I dated around."

You giggle, "You should have talked to me."

Nick walks up to you and says, "I really should have."

His hands cup your face and he pulls you into a passionate kiss. You smile into the kiss and put your hands on Nick's chest. He smiles against your lips as he slowly pulls back from the kiss.

Your eyes meet Nick's and he asks, "What does this mean for us? We'll never be the same after tonight."

"I want you," you say, staring up at Nick. "Do you want me?"

Nick smiles and nods. "Yeah, I do," he says. "I really want you."

Smiling, you say, "Then I'm yours. All yours. I've always been yours, Nick."

He leans down and kisses you again. His arms wrap around your waist and he lifts you up, spinning you around with your lips on his. You giggle into the kiss.

"Holy shit," you hear from the sliding back door. "It looks like it finally happened."

Nick pulls back and looks behind you. You turn around, standing beside Nick. His left arm is around your shoulder.

Matt, Kenny, Adam Page, Cody, Brandi, Adam Cole, and Britt all stand at the door. Matt has a huge smile on his face. "It did finally happen, didn't it?" the older Jackson asks.

You look up at Nick and he nods. "It finally happened," he says, looking down at you.

"Thank God," Kenny says. "It's about time. We all knew this would happen eventually and it finally freaking happened."

Nick's cheeks get red and you smile. "Guys, stop," you giggle. "Nick's getting all flustered."

Matt smiles and says, "Aw. Nicky's blushing."

You look up at Nick and you say, "It's kind of cute."

His cheeks get even more red and he tries to hide. You reach up and wrap your arms around his neck, and he hides his face in yours. The group laughs and you walk inside, rejoining the party.

#nick jackson imagine #nick jackson fluff #wrestling imagine #wrestling fluff #aew imagine #aew fluff #young bucks imagine #imagines #imagine #fluff imagine #fluff #christmas imagine #christmas fluff #fluffmas

[jckelly]

updated intro / jack 101

Is that JACK KELLY? Wow, they do look a lot like VAN MCCANN. I hear HE is an NINETEEN year old FRESHMEN who are studying AEROSPACE ENGINEERING  at Luxor University. Word is they are an ARISTOCRAT student. You should watch out because they can be PHILOPHOBIC and INSINCERE, but on the bright side they can also be WITTY and IMAGINATIVE. Ultimately, you’ll get to see it all for yourself. [YUNI, 21, GMT, SHE/HER]

 the other two got updated intros n rat man felt left out

basics

full name: jackson noel kelly 

nicknames: jack (does not answer to jackson)

date of birth: december 25, 2001

zodiac: capricorn sun, leo ascendant, sagittarius moon

nationality: dual uk and us citizenship

sexual orientation: straight but will try anything once

course: aerospace engineering

appearance

faceclaim: van mccann 

voiceclaim: van mccann

ethnicity: white (english, irish)

height: 5′8 / 173cm

weight: 58kg / 127lbs

eye colour: blue

hair colour: brown

distinctive features: freckles (many), left ear pierced, scars on his wrists usually covered by long sleeves, northern english accent

clothing preferences: jack prefers to only wear black, or at a push grey, although he’s slowly improving and will Occasionally mix it up with ... navy. his style is pretty basic, usually just a sweater, jeans, and beat up black converse or doc martens depending on how emo he’s feeling. the sheffield united hoodie makes an appearance every time someone forgets precisely which uk city jack is from. 

personality

overview

positive traits: witty, imaginative, perseverant, passionate

negative traits: philophobic, disloyal, insincere, callous

mbti: entp

religious beliefs: atheist

description

the first side most people see of jack is the side he wants you to see. a total asshole. it’s not an exaggeration - he’s pretty much infamous for flirting with everyone, dating anyone and as a serial cheater. he’ll actively try to worm his way into your life, and then just when you start to care, he does something to hurt you. he’s strangely persistent, probably helping him to push people even further, until they snap. there is nothing which satisfies him more than managing to wind people up to the extreme, get them to the point where they give up. adopted parents, friends, nobody is immune to this side - he even tries it on the people he genuinely cares about, as if just to see if he’ll still be able to push them away.

the second side, which most people don’t see, is that at heart jack is a kid. he’s the type of person to ask if owls have ears at 3am, or get some childlike joy out of dumb jokes. of course, this is the side nobody but a very small number of people see. and even if you do see it, it never lasts long. he keeps his true personality under wraps even amongst those he does like, and it only slips out if he’s extremely comfortable with you. otherwise, he’ll go straight back to being a sarcastic, flirty piece of shit.

biography

jackson noel kelly was born in hell on ironically christmas day to his father satan......

jk

jack and his older half brother finn were born in sheffield, united kingdom, to a single mother. a drug addict, she was notorious among social workers for neglecting her children and as a result jack shuffled between foster homes and his mother’s home during his first ten years of life, with finn, less than four years older than him, being his primary carer even when he was back with his birth family. this cycle finally ended when jack was ten and he was permanently removed from his mother’s care, and placed in the first of a series of foster homes which didn’t last particularly long.

the thing was, jack’s remarkably good at pushing people away when he wants to, and as he got older his talents only increased. running away, wreaking havoc, insulting anyone who tried to get close and anything else he could possibly think of meant that for three years he lasted no longer than eight months in any one place. in fact, he frequently took himself back to live with his birth family until social services came to drag him out again. this lifestyle continued until he was fostered by his now adopted parents, claire and george, at thirteen.

much to jack’s dismay, no matter of hell raising would push these newest set of parents away. in fact, they seemed absolutely set on raising him as Their Son, even as his attempts to get them off his back got more and more extravagant. they removed him from his previous school, transferred him to a fancy private school, put him in therapy and tried their best to help him get through all of the issues developed through his slightly fucked up childhood.

the thing was, jack loves his mother. he still refuses to see her as being in the wrong, no matter what people tell him or what he himself recalls, in his mind he has one mother and that’s his birth mother. so he did not take kindly to attempts by his foster parents to become his “new” family, because in jack’s mind? he already had a family. and even though they were actively encouraging him to continue contact with his brother, he couldn’t help but see them as trying to replace his birth family.

jack’s fifteenth year pretty much became the year when all of these issues finally came to a head. he was adopted legally by his foster parents, who had now been fostering him for two years - which should have been a happy occasion, but for jack represented the final loss, the final betrayal to his birth mother and brother. then shortly after his fifteenth birthday his brother went to prison at eighteen for grievous bodily harm, having glassed another boy after an argument.

of course, it would later be revealed that in actuality the assault had been committed by jack. and that finn was simply covering for him. (they looked alike enough that questions were not raised, it had happened so fast.) but in the eyes of jack’s adopted parents, finn was now a dangerous offender and jack had to be protected from him. so he was then isolated from his brother, his mother had relapsed and his continuous guilt over being adopted played on his mind, culminating in a suicide attempt in march 2017. 

of course, he wasn’t successful, but this was the final straw in the minds of his adopted parents. they felt jack needed a fresh start, away from the people who had defined his life prior to that point. so by his sixteenth birthday, jack had been moved to the united states to be near the family of his adopted mother, and subsequently enrolled in luxor academy. 

where he continued to be a menace :))

although it did appear, for some time, that jack was showing signs of improvement. sure, he was still wreaking havoc at luxor. but at home, he had calmed, even showing signs of affection to his adopted family. until his mother overdosed suddenly and died when jack was eighteen and things started to immediately go straight downhill again.

he can’t help but blame himself, for allowing himself to be moved. for the move being his fault, if he’s being honest. and if the honesty continues, jack’s got a whole lot of other stuff to blame on himself. (see: ruining his brother’s life.) so now he’s just taking shit out on everyone to try and make them a fraction as miserable as him. 

npc connections

birth fam

finn kelly / fc: jake bugg / b. may 10 1998 / taurus sun, gemini ascendant, pisces moon

finley, who also refuses to use his full name, is jack’s older brother - same mother, different father.  jack thinks he’s boring because he doesn’t raise hell with every opportunity. finn calls this “being a sane person.” went to prison for jack and regrets it. pastimes include crying over murakami books and trying to look shocked when jack tells him about the newest crisis he’s having. 

lauren kelly / fc: elena tonra / b. february 20 1983 - d. april 1 2020 / pisces sun, aries ascendant, leo moon

jack’s birth mother, who was still a teenager when he and finn were born. she was an on again, off again drug addict and had jack removed from her care when he was ten due to continued neglect. instilled in him a love for oasis and a hefty number of mental health issues. looked pretty much exactly like jack. 

jordan taylor / fc: alex turner / b. october 12 1984 / libra sun, leo ascendant, virgo moon

jack’s birth father, who he knows little about. not for lack of trying on his father’s part, who was prevented from seeing jack as a child by his birth mother and blocked from trying to make contact by jack’s refusal to interact. he keeps trying to message jack and jack is running out of daddy issues memes to respond with. finn thinks jack should give him a chance to redeem himself. jack thinks finn should fuck off. 

adopted fam

claire fielding / fc: julia roberts / b. may 12 1964 / taurus sun, cancer ascendant, leo moon

jack’s adopted mother. loves him very much and is convinced he is a sweet boy who just needs love and help. has written a memoir about adopting jack. jack is mad at her constantly. when he is not mad at her, he is embarrassed by her existence. honestly deserves better.

george fielding / fc: timothy olyphant / b. november 6, 1963 / scorpio sun, capricorn ascendant, virgo moon

is proud of jack, but very deep down underneath a strong layer of calling jack out on his bullshit. has some loud ass shouting matches with jack. also really wishes jack would sort his hair out and maybe not look like a cheap liam gallagher. jack honestly just winds him up constantly and he knows jack is doing it but goddamnit it’s so hard to not be mad at the little rat. 

other

maisie adeyemi / fc: yewande biala / b. january 6, 1997 / capricorn sun, sagittarius ascendant, aries moon

finn’s fiancee. her goal in life is to try to get jack to ruin finn’s life at least 70% less often. she has yet to achieve this goal. her love language is setting finn’s phone to silent when he goes to bed to stop jack from phoning in with some sort of random crisis at four in the morning because the little shit forgot timezones exist. finn will never find out. maisie is grateful that men have no brains. 

#luxorintro #abuse tw #neglect tw #drugs tw #death tw #suicide tw #depression tw