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a-boca-do-inferno · 4 months

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Prague getaway (jack ryan x female oc)

summary: “Oh, loosen up already.” Randy leans back and shoots him a teasing look. “We’re gonna be here a long time, might as well hold hands and start singing Kumbaya.”

warnings: angst, blood, violence, swearing.lots of it, light smut, fluff

words: 10.7k (:O)

notes: jack ryan girlies rise!! i put my whole pussy in this. also its my first time ever writing with an oc so bear with me lmao.

CENTRAL EUROPE

Birds chirped outside and the loud chatter coming from the street was a bit distracting from the sound of TV, but Randy managed. Her plate faced her on the coffee table, now empty, along with a half filled cup of apple juice. It must have been past noon while she had the time of her life laying on that dirty and ancient couch, watching some Czech program about the Internet. And by the time of her life, she secretly meant being bored as hell. Tagging along with Jack Ryan wasn’t even on the list of the worst things that could’ve happened to her given the circumstances, by the way, she’s well aware of that—seeing as her life was now on the line and he was only there to protect her—but goddamnit, was that cable shit. The things she did to put Jim at ease.

Although the girl didn’t really agree with his tactics to go about it; Johnson just knew better than to argue with Greer. After she started getting on his nerves with her insistence on using the intel she acquired and he actually took her seriously, it had been noticeable he came to think of himself like a father figure to her, since she was a rookie in the mission department. And Randy simply let him feel that way. Being away from his family ever took its toll on the guy and contrary to popular belief, she wasn’t the clueless, selfish bitch everyone made her to be.

Always, anyway.

Jack glances at her spread out on the sofa, trying to keep his annoyance in check and failing miserably. “What are you watching?” His voice suggests he’s very affected that Randy herself doesn’t appear fazed by their current situation. At all.

They had been stuck in that shithole for six hours now, completely in the dark as to where the mission stood after the shady organisation of the moment—as Johnson liked to put it—crushed into their hotel rooms and chased them out of town. And despite not exactly considering the capital of the Czech Republic under a terrorist threat for his idea of a nice vacation, it certainly beat having to now share some dirty kitchenette in the outskirts of Prague with the most insufferable woman he’s ever met. Jack caught wind of the discrepancies in the way they did their job from the start, and to say he wasn’t pleased with hers was an understatement. Her so-called intel had led them to that place, and her negligence above it all bothered him to no end. That and the ever present snark. He wondered how in the world did that character make it to the agency. She should’ve been in publicity, instead.

“A nice TV show about ordinary people wanting to become influencers”, Johnson responds in that tone of hers, with an almost sweet smile. Ryan’s mouth moves as though he’ll say something, but decides not to. He has better things to do with his time than to argue with a brat. Jack simply stares at her green eyes and sighs, going back to his computer screen, and Randy snorts, “well, Jim did mention you don’t like having people around.” Her feet move back and forth as she watches him type. “I’m like you in that way, you know?” Closing the distance between them, she brushes some stuff off his eyelid carefully, and it’s clear the man wasn’t expecting that. He tenses up. “So, my bad. I don’t wanna be here any more than you do, but you know Greer.”

“Is that so?” Jack blinks, scanning her face up and down wryly. “In that case, you’re free to leave anytime you want.”

Johnson laughs heartily, contrasting his impassive demeanour. “You do have a sense of humour, Jackie! I’ll give you that.” She shrugs and grins, with a declare to her voice, “and to answer your question: maybe I’d try to, but I’m not skilled enough to outsmart a Marine, I’m afraid.”

Jack looks away, still typing on the keyboard mechanically. “You sound like a fan.”

“You wish.” Her orbs gleam with mischief, and she sits a bit straighter to make a striking pose. “I wouldn’t mind learning some moves, though. I’d love to kick some ass. I bet I could take you, big man.”

Ryan chuckles under his breath, against his best judgement. It feels surreal to him, this girl. “You certainly have a unique way about yourself.” He states bluntly, raising his brows as he closes up the laptop and puts it on the small table to their side. “Don’t really look like someone in Logistics.”

Randy nods, crossing her legs with a smug expression. “I didn’t get the memo before taking the job, I guess.”

“Right.”

“Oh, loosen up already.” She sits up and leans back on the couch, her attention going to the program running in the background for a second. “We’re gonna be here a long time, by the looks of it. Might as well hold hands and start singing Kumbaya.”

Jack shakes his head slightly, his tone growing more serious. “You need to focus on the mission, Johnson. This isn’t a game.”

“Sure thing, dad”, she snickers, running a hand through her short hair idly. “You talk like it’s your head those fuckers want on a plate.”

“It is too, actually.” Ryan frowns. That’s the attitude he doesn’t like. “I suggest you get your head out of your ass as soon as possible. Enough people have died because of you.”

Although his words sting, Randy keeps a lighthearted mood. “So is that why you’re behaving like an asshole ever since we landed, you’re worried about yourself?”, she wiggles her brows, fixing a few blonde strands softly and clicking her tongue. “And here I thought you just didn’t like me.”

“I don’t have time for this”, Jack mutters to himself and leaves, closing the door to his room quietly.

Johnson only hummed along, watching as the winner of the episode celebrated on the screen. She knew Ryan was doing nothing but his duty protecting her, of course, yet it felt strangely disappointing that he, of all people, seemed to judge her so much for her actions up until that point. Randy went behind her superiors’ backs to scavenge the information that now threatened her own safety, sure, but how many times had he done the same thing again? Either way, arguing with the guy about it was just showing she cared for his opinion—which she didn’t, for the record. That cable just sucked and she was bored as hell. With a heavy sigh, the girl stood up to turn off the TV when a sound made her ears prick up. She frowned, inspecting the empty space. Something fell on the floor with a loud thud in the other room and Randy took a step back.

“Jack?”, she calls, getting no reply.

Her feet moved toward his door and it crashed right before her eyes, causing her to step away in reflex as two bloody men were thrown on the ground with it. With no time to process what was happening, Ryan took her by the arm and dragged her out of the apartment with no delicacy whatsoever. They ran down the stairs while he cocked his gun and whispered something unintelligible. She grabbed his forearm when another two hooded figures started closing in on them. Jack quickly got rid of the attackers and gave Randy a look before pulling her out of the building and into a car.

“Drive.” He commands, keeping his eyes behind at anyone following their vehicle.

She obeys without a second thought, stepping on the accelerator with all her might. Johnson grips the wheel tightly as she mouths, in a shaky breath, “what the fuck is going on, Jack? Talk to me.”

Ryan braces himself as they take a harsh turn, blood dripping from his eyebrow. “They found us again.”

“Am I supposed to know what that means?” Randy gasps when a pickup appears out of nowhere, shooting at them. She makes a u-turn and steps on the pedal, watching from the rear mirror. “How the hell did that happen?”

“I don’t know, just drive!” Jack rolls down his window and fires all his rounds at the vehicle still on their tail. He goes back to his seat and reloads his pistol, looking straight ahead. “We gotta get to the Embassy.”

“Got it.”

♡♡♡

“I see.” Jim sighs through the phone call. “I still have some business here in Moscow, but I’ll be in Prague as soon as I can.”

Jack doesn’t like the sound of it at all. He keeps track of Randy moving around in the background. “Copy.”

The ride to the Embassy was messy, but they made it in one piece. Well, Ryan did. After settling in the nice hotel the Ambassador offered them in another city nearby Prague—as to not draw any more attention to them, in his own words—, now with heavy security outside, Johnson winced when trying to change. She lifted her shirt and only then saw the ugly bruise on her abdomen, her skin sliced open and gushing blood. It was a bullet graze and albeit it wasn’t serious, the thing still hurt like a bitch. As the girl hissed and took a seat on the bed, Jack stopped in his tracks and crouched down before her. He gauged her injury with a trained eye, his lips curling in thought.

“Remorse?” Randy laughs deeply, tilting her head. “Don’t worry, I don’t hold grudges.” She sighs and looks at him seriously, like she hadn’t been until now. “How the hell did they find us this time, Jack? This stinks. No one knew about that hideout except you, me and Greer.”

His voice drops to a lower register as he takes her arm and brings it around his shoulders to lay her down, “I’m working on it. Right now we need to focus on getting you patched up.” Jack pulls her body close to his and fluffs the pillows, making her comfortable. He tries to ignore the way her hair tickles his chin.

Johnson chews the inside of her cheek, but accepts the help. “I’m okay, it’s just a graze.” She gulps and scratches her eyelids, taking a deep breath and glancing up at the ceiling. “That pickup didn’t look cheap. These people have some serious connections here. We have to get to the bottom of this.”

“We will”, Ryan says with resolve, nodding once. He scans the room in search of a med-kit and Randy points to the bathroom.

While Jack leaves for a moment, Johnson moves a little and pouts when the pain comes back. He catches her in the act and she chuckles, a little embarrassed, “so much for spy training, huh?”

Rummaging through the kit, he hums, “if it was easy, everyone would do it.” In the midst of pulling out the antiseptic and the gauze roll, he steals a quick peek at her.

Randy only grunts in response, her lips pursed. “Greer’s gonna get our asses for this. He doesn’t even know we left Prague in the first place.”

Jack doesn’t reply immediately. He’s finally found the right size gauze roll and puts it aside. His orbs roam her up and down, studying her exposed skin. He whispers, almost talking to himself, “he’ll get over it.”

“You know, I’m sorry about earlier”, her gaze has an amused gleam, but seems sincere. “I have been a little more annoying than normal, I’m aware. I’m sure by now you noticed why I’m not so popular among my peers in the agency, especially not after this… mess.” She looks down.

“You make it difficult for them because you can afford it”, he considers, cleaning her wound delicately. Taking note of her surprised reaction, he adds with a smirk, “I read your file. You’re not the only one who did the homework.”

After a moment of silence, she speaks up again, solemnly, “when we’re done with this, I’d like to make it up to you.” Randy sits up against the headboard with his help, now grinning, “how does pizza sound?”

His chest feels funny as Jack catches the look on her face. The offer sounds genuine and he smiles. “I’d love that. Your call on toppings.” When her bandage is finished, he puts the med-kit away in the bathroom cabinets.

“That’s right, I make all the decisions”, Johnson pushes his shoulder lightly as he sits back down, making him raise his brows but laugh along. “You learn fast. I can see why they talk so much about the analyst down the hallways, now.”

“I make them talk, huh?” Ryan tries to play it off with a soft chuckle, yet the blush on his cheeks is obvious. He leans in closer to take the phone on the bed, and with their faces only inches apart, his body can’t help but linger in that position. Suddenly the atmosphere tingles with tension and his breath hitches ever so slightly. Her eyes are breathtaking.

“Your humble act doesn’t work on me”, her voice is but a whisper, the corner of her lip lifting up ghostly. “Jim gave me the rundown on you before I came here, you know? He told me not to inflate your massive ego.”

He beams, his look dropping to her mouth, “that sounds like jealousy.”

Randy laughs and now can’t hide her own bashfulness. She reaches for the bedside table and puts on her round sunglasses, looking away from him in a not so subtle attempt at denying his advances. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Jack.” The girl sighs heavily, unable to stare back at him for now.

Her words were clear enough. It was a bad idea, indeed. And in spite of being visibly disappointed, his facial expression stayed blank as his phone started ringing again. It was probably Jim. He thanked the heavens in silence for that call to get him out of that situation. His thumb hovered over the screen for a moment and Ryan moved away from her, pressing the answer button as he got up and left for the other room. He grabbed his jacket over the chair as he went, glancing back at Johnson before she was completely out of vision. There was a flicker of curiosity in her emerald orbs whilst Jack closed the door.

Randy went to sleep right away, in hopes to wash off the incident with Jack by rebooting her systems. Besides, she was very exhausted; so much so her bones felt like jelly under her skin. Turning on her side with all the care in the world, she shut her eyes and drifted off to sleep. Soon her body began to spasm and shake, sweat dripping from her forehead as she turned on the bed and hissed when her wound stung. She sat back up with a quiet gasp. The war nightmares were a normal thing to occur, but had been more frequent from the moment she landed in Prague.

On the other side of the wall, Jack leaned back in a chair as he flipped through a small manila folder. His attention was glued to the paper, but his mind wondered. The sound of Randy tossing and turning on the mattress reached him and he tensed up, closing his eyes briefly as if to block out the sounds. He stayed like this for several moments before finally forcing himself to face reality. They had been running from terrorists when they should be the ones trying to catch them, and that didn’t sit right with him. Hiding wasn’t helping them in any way, out of maybe buying some time to rethink their strategy. And with Johnson hurt, Jack saw no other option but to push things forward on his own. He called Mike November the next minute, urging him to come to the Czech Republic tomorrow. They were gonna need all the help they could get.

The hours dragged on and his thoughts kept him awake. There was no way he could sleep while Randy was alone in the other room, wounded. She wasn’t a field operative, and that meant her training would only help her so much away from him. The girl barely survived the last encounter with their attackers, all because she had been lucky enough not to be in the room they invaded first. He tried to shake off the feeling of guilt over her injury to no avail. It wasn’t serious, however it could’ve been, and the mission would’ve been compromised then. Ryan gave up on the file and sat it aside.

Regardless of not being able to figure out Randy entirely just yet, John realised he had been cultivating a fondness for her over the past events. For someone who never used a gun in her life, except maybe for her training days, Johnson kept calm and helped with what she could, no questions asked. Not everyone has that kind of self control in the face of danger and he admired her for it. She even reminded Jack of himself, somewhat, back when he was a rookie—even though he wasn’t as annoying, surely. Either way, the blonde had a grace about her. Perhaps it was that nearly youthful spirit, the playfulness even in the blink of imminent disaster. He still found it hard to believe she had made her way into the CIA without losing most of her spark by now.

His look automatically dropped to Randy’s file, right under the mission’s. He scanned through some of the notes and reports he had been doing up until now. Johnson had been with the agency for just over four years, still her work ethic was impressive, at the very least. The only negative points were personal complaints from her previous office colleagues, most of them depicting her as a “stubborn, impulsive and rebellious, but effective agent”. He chuckled under his breath. That sounds about right.

Jack flipped through more pages, going over her skills: communication, adaptability and problem solving were top on the list. His eyes glossed over the next sheet: relationships, but he quickly stopped himself and closed the envelope. He’s already overstepped as it is. Ryan put down the file and let out a frustrated sigh. Thinking back on the days before the mission, he remembered Jim’s words.

“She’s a tough cookie, but you’ll get used to it.” Greer swirls his glass of Merlot casually. “I know how it looks and trust me, I’m one of the people who doubted her from the beginning, until it turned out her intel was solid. I don’t care how she got it or why, just as long as we catch that son of a bitch Jones.”

Jack could see the concerned look on Jim’s face as he delivered his briefing. He didn’t appear so confident in the girl’s abilities as he tried to come across. And while it didn’t bother Ryan perse, he had this unshakeable gut feeling that there was a lot more to Randy than what you can see at first glance. Perhaps even more so than she let Jim himself know.

“Copy.” That’s what he said back then, nodding and staring at the table.

“And don’t even think about it”, were his boss’ last remarks as he gulped down his wine in one go. “Randy’s not Cathy, Jack. You’re there to protect her and the information she holds before Jones can get to her.” His voice sounds tight, but not really threatening. Greer’s always been a little too overprotective of the rookies. “No fooling around.”

“Jack”, Randy calls huskily. “I’m bleeding.” She complains, yawning softly. Johnson stares at the dark room and sighs, doing her best to wake up fully. “Jack.”

His eyes fixated on Randy’s picture when he heard her voice coming from her bedroom. He stood up and opened the door, flicking on the light and making his way to her bed. Her wound oozed blood under her shirt, soaking the fabric in red as it dripped down onto the mattress and he shook his head, looking at all the work he had put on the bandages now gone.

“What the hell did you do, Johnson?”, he grumbles, running for the bathroom to take the med-kit.

“I moved”, she shrugs and tries out a playful smile, but grimaces when a sharp sting hits her like a brick. “Just… hand me the gauze and I’ll clean it up myself.” She concludes, noticing he isn’t pleased.

Jack comes back with the kit and narrows his eyes, his features remaining stoic, “sit down and put pressure on it.” He grabs her wrist to help her up, moving her back to the headboard. His lips purse as he inspects the red liquid streaming from her side. “It looks even worse than before, Jesus.”

“Sorry”, she frowns and looks away, feeling guilty for making him do this again. “I really can do it, you know? I’m not a baby.”

“Really? You’re not doing such a great job at convincing me otherwise”, he states softly, his initial anger dissipating to give room for worry as he treats her injury. She doesn’t respond, adjusting herself on the pillows. “Stay still.”

Randy sighs. “I wanna talk to Greer.”

“What for? He says he’s coming.” Jack wraps the gauze around her abdomen, holding the roll package between his teeth. “There’s nothing we can do for now. Jones is onto us. We have to be extra careful.”

“Yeah, that’s not really my style”, she huffs, visibly bothered by his decision making without consulting her. “I’m calling my contact in Roztoky. He can help us move around the city without worrying so much.”

“Your contact”, Ryan sounds unimpressed, finishing off the new bandage. He looks down at his lap for a split second, then turns his gaze back to Randy. “Don’t you think it’s time you caught me up on all of this?”

“I told you everything.”

“Did you, now?” Randy glares and he stares right on, scowling himself. “All you have done so far is get on my nerves and not cooperate with the mission at hand.”

“I don’t cooperate with you bossing me around, that’s very different”, Johnson blurts out in a single breath, looking upset. “I might not be the big shot you are in the agency, but I have a right to know where we stand because it concerns my safety too. I don’t care if I’m fucking Logistics.”

Jack still glowers at the girl, but eventually softens his features. She’s got a point. “Fine. I called a friend just now. He’ll help.”

“Okay.” It’s all she says, and anticipating the end of the conversation, Jack moves to leave. Her hand touches his arm faintly before he does, “thanks.”

Nodding, he steps away and closes the door.

♡♡♡

When Jim told Randy to get on the next plane to Prague only days ago, something inside of her shifted. So far she had been carrying this intuitive sensation that no matter what she did, the guys higher up would never take her warnings into consideration. And then, just as Johnson gave up and decided to do things on her own, Jones bombed a US Embassy in Europe, and announced he would keep on doing it until he was either killed or caught. Overnight, all the letters the girl sent the director of the CIA were answered and in less than a week, they stationed her and Jack in Prague.

“Wait for further instructions. As of now, Dr. Jack Ryan will be assisting you”, was the last email Greer typed. And with that, Johnson flew with the so-called doctor to Europe. She knew all about Jack’s successful streak with Suleiman, then Venezuela and Moscow, of course. The tales of “the analyst” often made her chuckle whilst spooning her salad, since people were unable to hide their admiration—and sometimes, even envy—for Ryan as they shared his stories on lunch break. Nothing much happened on Logistics, so that had been their entertainment for a long time. Until things became erratic with the Prague bombings, that is.

Looking back now, everything happened so quickly. Randy didn’t have a chance to take it all in. The rush was similar to her days in the army, when she had to get moving around with no time to think or feel. There was the goal and the path she’d be taking towards it, nothing else. She saw the same mindset in Ryan right away, even if their approach was fundamentally different. The blonde reckoned the Marine Corps could be stricter and, as a result, more demanding than military service. That is also why, although not hitting it off well from the beginning, she tried her best to remain friendly with him—which could include being annoying every now and then, sure, but that’s beside the point. They both possessed life experiences not too far apart that deeply shaped them into who they were today, for better or for worse, and that meant something. Jack was her.

Only grumpier and square.

Staring back at the table, Randy resumed eating her meal. Pancakes were her favourite dish, no matter where she was. And again, she felt lucky enough that Jack’s remorse made him go out of his way to try and fetch her some from the downstairs cafeteria. His friend Mike was funny, funnier than Ryan—not that it was hard—and she had a great time while they chatted over a nice American breakfast in Central Bohemian, Czech Republic. It almost felt as though they weren’t being chased down by assassins, and she hadn’t nearly been hospitalised for an infection in her bullet graze only the night before.

“So?” Randy smiles brightly at Mike, urging him to speak after she briefed him on the situation. Jack had been quiet until now, because he was boring, so she took it upon herself to catch Mike up on the whole deal. If his laughter at her stupid jokes was anything to go by, she’d take a hunch and say they built a strong bond already. If only things could work like that with Ryan. “You think you can help us, Mikey?”

Michael can’t help but snort, oscillating his eyes between Johnson and Jack, who’s still eyeing his empty plate in thought, “where did you find her again?”

“Don’t ask”, Ryan finally sighs and Randy shrugs, eating her pancakes happily. He looks at November seriously. “I’m gonna need you to call your guy. We have to be in the same place as Jones, hit him when he doesn’t expect it. We’re running out of time.”

“I’m on it”, Mike nods, then glances at the girl with a grin. “How about you, sweetheart? Ready for some grown up action?”

Jack rolls his eyes at this, but Randy laughs out loud. She’s yet to get used to being treated like a damsel in distress. “Hey, I can throw a punch! Don’t let Jack poison your mind. He’s just butthurt that I got intel working in Logistics that he couldn’t as a field agent.”

“Ouch. That hurt even me.” He snickers and Ryan stands up, putting his gun inside his pants. Mike follows suit. “Just right down to business, huh?”

“I told you, we don’t have time”, Jack takes a look at Randy, who’s watching them with her chin on her hand, smiling. He clears his throat and touches her shoulder lightly, “we’ll be back before dark. Try not to hurt yourself while I’m away.”

They hadn’t mentioned the little incident last night, but when his touch found her skin, Johnson’s mind made its way back to his closeness hours prior. How he ogled her lips with no shame whatsoever, and how eager he seemed for breaking the rules for her, so to speak. It was a nice change in pace for the Jack she had come to see around that period. It also took her an enormous amount of self-control not to jump on him right then and there, however there were more important things at play. If only she wasn’t such a professional.

Randy renders a hand salute, mockingly. “Aye, aye, sir.”

Mike smiles at Ryan. “I like her.”

As they left, Johnson sighed and stood up, going for the burner Mike brought with him so they could communicate. She called her boss in Maryland and gave him a summary of the mission, explaining Jack’s plan thoroughly. They found a way into Jones’ charity event tomorrow, courtesy of Mike’s contact. If everything went well today, she would be face to face with her target in just a few hours. Her orders were loud and clear: shoot to kill. Placing the device down, the blonde took a deep breath, looking out the window at the clean, welcoming landscape of Horoměřice.

She was never a fan of big cities, despite being born in Los Angeles. The nice and quiet suited her better, so leaving Prague, notwithstanding she wished for better circumstances, was actually a relief. Away from the hustle of the capital, she could think more clearly. And the thought of coming back here after the operation made her happy. The people were nice and very comprehending of her ignorance of their culture—albeit she did speak a little Czech, but had to pretend not to, for the sake of her cover. Ryan still had to think she was the sweet and rebellious rookie; at least until she got the job done.

A few blocks away, contemplating the clear, blue sky also, Jack caught himself appreciating the view for longer than he intended. The small things were ever the anchor he needed to keep moving forward, especially in this line of work. Whenever he was on a mission, time went by in a rush, and the only way to alleviate that feeling was to focus on the here and now. Nature could calm him down like nothing else, but as he watched the trees moving along with the wind, the green of the leaves slowly merged into emerald eyes he now came to know too well. Putting his hands in his front pockets, he took a peek back at the old building behind him and Mike walked out of it.

“Please, tell me you got us in.” Jack practically begs, watching him come down the stairs. He had been talking to his guy for over fifteen minutes while Ryan waited outside.

“Did I ever let you down?” He grins, showing his phone with a party invitation on the screen.

“Don’t make me say it”, Jack beams and nods, checking the time before heading to the car with November right behind. As they get in, he turns on the engine. “Jim’s getting here soon, but I might not catch him. You stay here and brief him on the plan. I can hold my own with Johnson.”

“Just like the old days, eh?” Mike puts on his belt. “The band’s back together.”

“With a new formation, but yeah”, he mutters, driving back to the hotel.

“Oh, tell me about it”, Jack wants to roll his eyes at the teasing on Michael’s voice again, but doesn’t. “Actually, you don’t even have to. It’s clear you guys are already at it.”

“Stop talking”, Ryan takes a turn, stepping on the pedal. “She’s too much. You might have noticed.”

“Sounds like your type”, Mike snickers, gaining a wry look from Jack. He shrugs, measuring up the hotel as they arrive. “But I’m sure Jim wouldn’t approve. He never does.”

“I don’t care”, Jack says somewhat defensively, getting out of the vehicle with November. They make their way to the elevator and he presses his floor. “I’m not thinking about that.”

“All these years and you still think you can lie to me, Jack”, Mike positions his hands in front of his body with a smirk, the doors closing as they’re going up. “She’s into you, though. I could feel the tension.”

Jack scoffs in disbelief at his words, his face heating up. “Please, stop talking.”

“You know, it’s none of my business…”

Jack nods impatiently, not looking at him. “It isn’t.”

“But you should go for it. Friendly advice”, Mike gives him a look before they head towards the room. They stop in front of the wooden door as he finishes, “you can thank me later.”

Ryan displayed another eye roll at Michael and got inside, finding nothing but an empty and unmade bed. He stopped in his tracks and pushed Mike down when someone stepped out of the bathroom with a machine gun. They grabbed their guns simultaneously, taking cover behind a small couch next to the door. Before either of them had a chance to shoot, the gunfire suddenly ceased and the sound of a body hitting the floor could be heard in its place. Jack frowned and stood back up swiftly with November, pointing the pistol now at Randy, who stared at them with a desolate look. Her clothes were bloody and her green orbs filled with tears.

He runs in her direction and takes the girl in his arms, whispering, “what happened?”

Johnson sobs and hides herself into his chest, clinging to him for dear life. “He said he was room service… I just opened the door and…” She gulps, crying copiously.

Jack looks at Mike approaching them, still holding her firmly. “It’s okay. You’re okay now.”

The security guards supposed to protect them were nowhere to be seen, and Ryan made the connection quickly; they must have been paid off, just like the ones in Prague. He swore quietly, rocking Randy’s body to try and calm her down. She was shaking like a leaf, but appeared not to be hurt. The crushing weight of guilt hit him once more as he shut his eyes tightly. He shouldn’t have left her alone again. Brushing her cheeks, he cupped her face and wiped off her tears, causing her to smile. She squeezed his hands, as if to confirm she was really okay, and his heart skipped a beat. But as soon as their foreheads touched, the moment was interrupted by November.

“I thought you were a rookie.” Mike hums in confusion, staring at the dead body in front of them while checking his vitals. The guy had a broken neck and arm. He adds, his brows furrowed in her direction, “where did a rookie learn how to kill a guy with one move like that?”

Randy freezes in Jack’s arms and he feels it instantly. He studies the cadaver for a second before turning to stare back at her. He looks lost at first, but the mere prospect of all his suspicions being true causes him to take a step back. He inquires, demanding an explanation, “Johnson?”

She stands there paralyzed, and eventually raises her hands slowly, as a sign of surrender. Ryan points his gun at her again in the blink of an eye and her breath hitches. “Jack, please…”

“Who are you?” Mike chimes in, as his friend’s too shaken up to say anything. His gaze is hard and menacing, nothing like the lighthearted gleam of this morning.

Johnson closes her eyes, shaking her head. “Jack…”

“Who the fuck are you?!” Jack snaps, pressing the barrel of the pistol to her forehead, his hazel orbs now glistening with tears.

Johnson’s desperate face turned into a cold one all of a sudden and she disarmed him easily, pointing Ryan’s glock right back at him. He looked at the girl shocked and hurt, but lifted his arms up in reflex. They stayed in that position until Randy sighed when Mike aimed his own weapon at her. She dropped the firearm and unloaded it masterfully, throwing the rounds on the ground whilst glaring at Jack.

“I’m not your enemy.” She spits, her voice strained with anger. With that, Johnson storms off.

November still tries to go after her and Ryan steps in front of him, holding his shoulders. “Let her go. We got a job to do.”

Mike watches as she gets into the elevator down the hallway and snorts, “well, you did say she was too much.”

♡♡♡

Jack walked into the event with grace, making the bar his first stop. Mike kept humming a song in his earpiece, but it didn’t bother him as it should, since his mind was elsewhere; lost in blonde locks and lying green eyes. He had no idea where Randy had gone to, and aside from not wanting to think about it now, his bitter side also wouldn’t allow him to care as he did before. She wasn’t some helpless chick doing a brave thing for her principles, after all, like he initially thought. Johnson had her own interests and her own set of skills—which he obviously didn’t know anything about—to achieve them. She’d be fine without him.

“Here he comes”, Ryan mumbles as Jones appears in the VIP section upstairs, surrounded by security and other people he assumed were his associates. He drinks his glass of whisky in one go and keeps his eyes on his target from afar, inspecting the perimeter stealthily. “Please, tell me Jim’s there. We’ll be needing the cavalry soon.”

Instead of Mike’s reply, a familiar voice he hadn’t heard in a few days reaches his ear and Jack tenses up. “Where’s Johnson?” It’s Greer’s first question. No greeting, no nothing. He sighs, trying to think of an excuse not to talk about this now, but his boss is insistent. “You might wanna tell me if you want your cavalry right away.”

“She’s gone”, Ryan growls, not sounding as casual as he would’ve liked to. He strolls towards a group of women and smiles charmingly at them, blending in. They quickly make a gesture for him to come closer and he obliges, muttering on his way, “she left yesterday.”

There is a pause, then Greer mouths, “what happened?”

“She’s NSA”, he says amidst another deep sigh, forcing a grin when one of the girls pulls him to dance.

Jim didn’t respond and Jack went along with the brunette, always maintaining Jones in his rearview. He wasn’t aware if Greer was too surprised to say something or just didn’t care—seeing as he had been the first one to tell him Randy was only as important as the information she held, anyway. As long as she kept feeding them her intel, whatever happened to her afterwards was irrelevant to the agency. As far as anyone knew, an employee from Logistics should’ve never been on the field with them in the first place. And even in the face of Johnson secretly working for another organ entirely, which was the case, whilst representing a conflict of interests, Ryan reckoned she had been useful enough. At the end of the day, that’s all that mattered. Maybe she’d try to stop him from getting Jones just to put the credit on the National Security Agency’s office, but they would still get Jones. She’d serve her purpose, either way.

As soon as Randy left the hotel, Jack dialled up a nerdy kid in Langley, Josh, who happened to be a self-proclaimed fan of his and asked for a small favour. All the facts he had about Johnson was the Californian accent—unless she was that good at her job, going as far as creating such a round persona for her cover—and a nearly faded tattoo she had on her lower abdomen: 345-27-720. Ryan saw it for the first time when treating her wound, but thought nothing of it. Everything about her appeared so innocent, it went unnoticed. Now, remembering the way she aimed his own weapon at him without hesitation, he felt a bit proud of his photographic memory.

It was a long shot, still he tried. And the results of the background check didn’t disappoint as they came just minutes before he had to leave for the party. According to California’s military records, the social security number belonged to a Miranda J. Brooks; white, American born, 26 years old, Second Lieutenant with a bachelor’s degree in Strategic Intelligence. The only catch was: Brooks was officially dead for over six years now. The death certificate only mentioned she was killed in combat somewhere in Afghanistan. She had no close family except her grandmother, Mary Brooks, who lived alone in Arizona. And the only thing he could register listening to Josh vomit all of that on the phone was how well she pretended to be such a clueless, defenceless girl while having this background. It only made his admiration for her stronger. And Jack hated it.

He somehow learned about that NSA program a few years back, but didn’t dig deeper on the matter. It wasn’t in their policy to have field agents capacitated in combat—which had been the reason why people in there butt heads with CIA operatives in the past, many a time. So, they allegedly started recruiting deserters and otherwise discharged soldiers to power their own task force, an effort not to be so dependent on the FBI or the State Department anymore. And while Ryan wasn’t sure if it was even a legal practice, he wasn’t a lawyer, therefore that part didn’t concern him. What he couldn’t figure out was why Brooks would fake her own death for this, or have her death faked by the agency itself. Besides, there was no record of a discharge anywhere. It didn’t add up and as soon as Jones was out of the picture, Jack would go looking for answers.

“Wanna go upstairs?” The woman dancing with him grins drunkenly, grabbing back his attention.

Ryan wrinkles his nose involuntarily when the smell of alcohol hits his face and pulls away politely, faking an apologetic expression. “I’m taken, sorry.”

The woman huffed and pushed him, stumbling back to her friends. Jack watched in silence and frowned as his eyes caught a glimpse of Jones disappearing through a hallway with his men. He warned Mike of his position and followed them suit, the adrenaline already pumping into his veins when he came up the set of stairs and stepped into a quieter area. Ryan took out his gun and pointed it to the ground, sneaking after the terrorist from a safe distance. Hiding behind a wall, he checked his rounds and looked ahead, running back the strategy in his mind.

“Nice suit”, a smooth tone startles him and he holds the pistol at the direction of the sound, gulping faintly when his gaze meets Randy’s—or rather, Miranda’s.

“What are you doing here?” He lowers his weapon, dragging her behind the wall with him. She’s wearing her usual clothes, and he almost wants to scold her for not even trying to act the part now. When she only smirks in response, Jack tightens his grip around her arm. “Stop playing games, Brooks. I already know everything.”

“You’re so predictable”, she chuckles and harshly shrugs him off, albeit her beam stays. Randy looks up, pretending to be in thought, “although, I didn’t think you would let me go so easily. I thought you’d fight for us, Jackie.” She says dramatically, then laughs.

Ryan’s scowl grows deeper, and he snarls, “Look, I don’t know what your angle is, but if you fuck this up, I’m coming after you next. I don’t care who you work for.” He holds her wrist forcefully and she can’t contain her own glower, trying to shake him off again, this time unsuccessfully. “I’ve had enough of your bullshit.”

“Have you, now?” Johnson hisses and lifts her chin defiantly, his hot breath reaching her cheeks as his nostrils expand in pure rage. “If you were being honest, you’d have reported me to your superiors last night. You didn’t.”

“I have more important things to do”, he grits his teeth when she raises a brow, clearly not believing a word he says. “Now tell me what you’re doing here. I’m not gonna ask again.”

“I told you, I’m not your enemy”, Randy takes a deep breath, her features finally softening. Jack’s grip is looser now, but he keeps glaring. She sighs and tilts her head, cooing, “I know you’re mad at me for lying to you, Jack, but this is my job. You of all people should understand.”

The worst part was he did. Jack saw her and felt like staring into a goddamn mirror every time. He truly, genuinely saw her—no matter who the fuck she even was at that moment—and his body acted on its own as he pulled her by the collar of her shirt and devoured her mouth mercilessly. Ryan hadn’t a clue who he was kissing right now, the rebellious rookie or the dead soldier; all he knew was those were the smoothest lips he ever tasted, and he wasn’t letting go just yet. His tongue made its way between her teeth and he heard a gasp before Johnson pushed him against the wall and pressed herself on him, unashamed of who could see them.

“Jack, focus.”

Jack ignored Mike as his back hit the cold concrete with a quiet thud. His deep groan seemed to only fuel Randy’s desire and she licked his bottom lip, now guiding the kiss. He panted when her skilful hands dropped to his pants and in a sudden glimpse of clarity, Ryan grabbed her wrists to stop her, but with no brute force this time. She pulled away from the kiss to give him a playful look, her chin completely red with lipstick as she tried to catch her breath, and he wiped his own face unconsciously. They both stared at each other for two seconds before bursting out laughing. He placed his free palm on her hip, bringing her body flush to his again.

“Jack?”

November’s voice sounds like white noise as Johnson hums smugly, “okay, big man.” Jack’s flustered features cause her to giggle and she opens her mouth to speak again, then shuts it at once when a few men carrying rifles appear in her vision, observing them from afar.

Ryan’s eyes follow hers and he tucks Randy behind him instinctively, turning off the safety on his glock. “If you have a gun on you, now’s the time to use it.”

“You don’t really think we can take them? We’re outnumbered, greatly”, she scoffs, doing her best to hide his weapon from the bodyguards’ view with her body. She presses herself against Jack and he offers her a puzzled look when her hands carefully put his pistol back into his pants. Johnson brushes her lips on his and he gladly accepts the caress, shivering from head to toe. She whispers, biting his bottom lip, “act drunk.”

“Pfft”, Jack wants to protest that poor excuse of a plan, but it’s too late as the men are now only a few feet away, watching not so subtly. He sighs and palms her butt without warning, getting into character, and fakes a loose smile. “How’s that?”

“Perfect”, she bends towards his touch, kissing him sloppily. Jack squeezes her ass cheek softly in reflex and a moan escapes her. “Jesus…”

“Jack, what the fuck are you doing?!”

Mike screaming in his piece brings him back to reality and he stares at the ceiling before eyeing her. “I don’t wanna spoil the mood”, Ryan gulps, still rubbing her waist slowly as he tries to get a hold of himself. He clears his throat, “but what’s the endgame here? Take out the voyeurs?”

Randy chuckles and holds his hand, taking him towards the empty hallway again, away from the party. Before they leave, she senses the men are following them. While they stumble side by side surrounded by red painted walls, she mumbles, “there’s a door to your right over there. This is where Jones makes his deals and he’s trying to close one right now with the Russians.”

“I thought you said he gave up on it”, Ryan trails off, maintaining her close to him by wrapping an arm around her waist.

“Because that’s what I heard, he changed his mind today”, she slows the pace, pushing him to the wall once again with a grin. “I bugged his office while you were away with Mike yesterday, forgot to tell ya.”

“How in the world…”

“And they almost caught me, that was the mess you found”, Randy continues and Jack’s mouth remains agape. She shrugs, pecking him casually, “you play a good drunk, by the way.”

“Were you gonna tell me any of this if we hadn’t figured it out on our own?”, his tone sounds defeated, almost like he’s still hurt. But should he be, really? She said it earlier; Ryan of all people couldn’t judge her for lying. “Would you trust me?”

“Well, I’m telling you now”, loosening up his tie, she puts it around her neck clumsily. “What do you think?”

He smiles. “I think I hate your games, but sometimes they’re fun”, he grabs her by the hair and brings her into another quick kiss.

A loud sound, similar to an explosion, came out of the main room and Randy gasped in surprise, dragging Jack away from all the rubble and the dust. She coughed while running through the wreckage with him, and Jack took it upon himself to protect her face, covering it with his hand. He tried calling for Mike, but he couldn’t hear the answer amidst all the screaming and chaos going on around them. Soon the first shots were fired and not knowing whether it was the police or the terrorists, he took the lead and pulled out his gun as he knocked down the door to Jones’ office, supposedly. They entered the room and were met with the man glowering, his bodyguards ready to open fire.

Ryan stays alert, aiming his pistol at him and muttering, “Mike, where the hell’s the cavalry?”

Michael snorts, seeming out of breath. “I think your NSA friend can answer that better than me.”

Jack frowns, shooting a look at Johnson. She appears calm, calmer than she should be in a situation like this. However, just as he’s going to question her about Mike’s affirmation, Randy takes out her gun at last, but doesn’t aim it at anyone. He furrows his brows, “care to fill me in here?”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Dr. Ryan”, Jones chimes in with a heavy accent, eyeing Randy for a moment, solemnly. “And nice to see you again, miss Johnson.”

“You know each other?” Jack blinks, holding his weapon tightly, his knuckles becoming white. He turns off his safety, now raising his voice, “someone better tell me what’s going on here or I’ll shoot, I swear to God.”

Jones made mention of speaking up again and a door behind him opened to reveal a tall blonde with two other men surrounding him. Randy knew that was her chance and took the shot without so much as a second thought, hitting the stranger on the forehead. Everyone stood shocked, except Jones. The terrorist’s guys yelled at Johnson to toss her firearm and with one hand gesture coming from him, they went silent. She eventually lowered her pistol and sighed, studying the pool of blood around Viktor’s bald head before she took a look at Jack, who seemed as confused as he had been the day prior.

Johnson approaches Jones and nods, her expression serious. “Thank you. You’re free to go now.”

Jack widens his eyes and quickly steps between them, still pointing his weapon at him. “What the hell are you doing, Randy?!”

“I’m sorry, Jack. That was the deal.” The girl hugs her own body and the Czech police finally appear, screaming at everyone to lower their guns. “I’m sorry”, Randy glances at him one last time with a hurt look before she leaves and Jones and his men are cuffed and taken away.

“Jack, are you okay?”

Staring at the dead body still on the ground, Ryan places his hands on his hips, in a pathetic attempt to process what just happened. He stands there for a few seconds, then turns around to step out of the building. “Please tell me she wasn’t in on it, Mike.” He begs in a murmur, measuring up the destruction caused by the explosion earlier. “And where’s Greer, too.”

“I’m right here, Jack.” Jim sighs on the other end. “Don’t worry, Johnson’s not compromised. She was just following her orders.”

“Which were?” He kicks off some dust, finding his tie under a broken block of concrete in the hallway. It must have fallen off Randy as they ran.

“Catching Viktor Vasiliev.” Jack walks among the damage with a sour face, closing his eyes when he finds the woman he danced with earlier that night. She’s dead. Greer adds, “he deals in chemical weapons and was the one behind the Prague bombings all along. Jones was her informant.”

“Catching?” Ryan deadpans. “She killed him, Greer.”

“Those were her orders…”

“You knew about all this.” Ryan reckons, with a more consternated tone as he cleans up the dust off his tie and gets out of the main room—or what’s left of it—, trying not to think of the medics tending to the dead bodies as he passes. “You knew it and you didn’t tell me.”

Jim grunts, “I only found out when I arrived here and the NSA director gave me a call explaining everything. You already had your plan, Jack, and I know you well enough to say with confidence that you would have gone with it anyway. No matter what I said.”

He scoffs, shaking his head at Greer’s words even though he can’t be seen. Reaching the sidewalk, Jack sees Randy is talking to a police officer from a distance. She’s laughing at something he’s saying while Ryan purses his lips, unable to take his eyes off her figure. “Now what?”

“Now we’re going back to Langley. Our job here’s done, we helped as we could with manpower, but the intel was solely NSA’s. It’s their case now.”

“It has always been.” There’s bitterness in his words, and his scowl is inevitable when he remembers everything. All the lies. “What about Jones?”

“He’s coming with us. He made a deal.”

Jack sighs, looking down at his shoes. “And Johnson?”

Jim pauses. Ryan watches as Randy disappears in a police car without looking back, and he can’t ignore the lump in his throat when the answer comes in his ear, “Johnson who?”

♡♡♡

Randy’s always been in love with Arizona. There was just something about the quietness of the desert, and the way the roads stretched endlessly when driving back home. She hadn’t seen her grandmother in such a long time. A real nice scolding would be the first thing waiting for her as soon as Johnson opened the door to her granny’s trailer, she just knew it; yet it only added to her anxiousness to finally seeing the iconic “welcome to Phoenix” sign on the side of the road.

Singing a tune along with the radio, she thought back to what she left behind in Europe a week ago. Deciding to quit had been a big step for her, but she was never happier to make a decision. She’s always hated jetlag, anyway. And whenever Johnson saw Jack again, if ever, she would just have to thank him for indirectly leading her to discover this. Turns out the adrenaline wasn’t doing it for her anymore. And albeit it was all she had known until that point in her life, maybe it’s time for a change. Prague taught her as much. Even through the moments of tension, somehow connecting to some ex-Marine’s need for the hustle of going after the bad guys made her notice that deep inside, she was tired of it herself. That didn’t mean switching to “normal”—hell no.

Quieter, mayhaps.

A deep sigh escaped her lips and she shook her head at no one in particular, rolling down her windows and smiling as the wind hit her face. Reciting the lyrics to the song a bit louder now, she turned the volume all the way up and stepped on the pedal, patting her door from the outside to follow the beat. Love’s never worked out for her even as Miranda Brooks back in the day. So there was no surprise on her part when the brief romantic getaway with Jack Ryan had a tragic ending—and by tragic, she meant not being physically able to say goodbye to him, face to face. “I hope you’ll understand someday”, was the email Randy sent, and off she went to the States, in a flight separate from his.

With Jones now in custody—his deal was merely to reduce his sentence, since he did actively help plan other bombings before deciding to do the right thing after Prague—, everything should be fine. Except nothing felt like it, not to Randy. Being jobless and alone was a new thing, so she reckoned it was just a matter of adjusting. Taking a peek at herself in the rearview mirror, the girl thought of changing her hair. The last time she’d been a brunette was prior to enlisting. Another deep sigh left her throat as she rolled the window back up and turned off the radio.

Who was she kidding?

No amount of pretending not to care would save her from feeling like the worst person in the world. The whole thing with Ryan was just too fucking much, funnily enough, even for Johnson. Which was beyond her in itself, because lying to people came easy for her, it had to, since it was what she did for a living. But reminiscing about the disappointment in his eyes when she killed Viktor in front of him made her stomach turn every time. How did she come to consider his opinion of her that much? Randy had no clue. Still, she stubbornly persisted in the idea that everything happened as it should have. She accomplished her mission and Jack accomplished his, too. She was well and breathing, after all. He did his job. And without being deceitful, unlike her.

“You bitch!” Granny exclaims as soon as she spots her granddaughter’s car on the road. She’s in front of her house, wiping her hands with a kitchen cloth as she comes down the little steps before Randy even pulls up.

Laughing out loud, Johnson gets out and runs toward her, squeezing the old woman in her arms. “Granny! Oh, God. How I missed you. You look so beautiful.”

“Liar!” She chuckles, but her eyes are filled with tears. Staring at the rusty pick-up truck behind them, Mary shakes her head in disapproval. “I can’t believe you’re still driving that piece of shit, Miranda. That’s why you never visit your grandmother anymore! You’re probably afraid it’s gonna explode on the way.”

“Shut up, she’s family”, Johnson giggles and kisses her white hair, still holding her close. The scent of home made her heart flutter in her chest. She teases, “c’mon, I’m hungry. You better have made me pancakes!”

“Oh, he did!” Mary hums happily, opening a grin from ear to ear, and Randy raises a brow in inquiry. She shrugs, walking to the trailer along Brooks. “Your friend. He said you were gonna meet him here.”

“My friend?” The girl frowns and touches the gun under her jacket automatically, but as soon as she takes it out, her alert eyes spot the so-called friend sitting on the little couch, sipping a coffee, and stops in her tracks. “Jack?” Johnson breathes out, astonished.

With a shaven face and a sweet smile, Ryan blinked slowly at her. Her knees suddenly went weak and she took a step back, trying to take in his presence. It hadn’t been so long since she last saw him, yet it felt like an eternity. He wore a baby blue shirt and some jeans, and her mind took note of how casual he looked out of his work persona. Her mouth stayed agape as she searched for the words to speak. They all ran out on her.

“You don’t look happy to see me”, Jack finally murmurs in amusement, causing Mary to exchange a knowing look with him as he stands up, putting his hands in his front pockets. “How are you, Randy?”

“I’m…” She trails off, even more baffled by his soft and amicable tone now. She really thought he hated her guts. “Jack, I…”

“She’s better now, dear, that’s for sure”, granny chimes in before she can finish, doing a thumbs up.

Randy’s cheeks go red and she widens her eyes. “Granny!”

“What? I’m old, but I notice these things, Miranda. You like the boy.” Mary smiles and now Jack’s the one blushing and laughing awkwardly. “And he likes you too, for that matter.” After giving Johnson another one of her teasing looks, she points outside and pats Ryan’s shoulder softly. “I’m gonna leave you two alone now. You go talk and make up, otherwise there’s no pancakes for nobody.”

Randy can’t hold back another laughter as her granny steps out of the trailer with the tray full of their breakfast. She’s really not kidding. Glancing at Jack again, he’s still slightly flustered, crossing his arms while raising a brow. Johnson squints, “what?”

“An email? Really?” He asks, his expression wry as he sits back down, resting his elbows on his knees. It’s almost comical how big he looks in that position, especially seated on her grandmother’s small couch. “A text would’ve been warmer.”

“I didn’t wanna hurt you again, Jackie”, even though she tries to make light of it, there’s a sincerity to her words that’s hard not to notice. Taking a seat beside him, Johnson leans back and sighs. “You know, I quit the agency.”

He figured as much, especially because Greer seemed a little sad when questioned about Randy while they had dinner last night. Ryan smirks, not wanting to miss the opportunity, “which one?”

Johnson snickers and nods, comprehensive of his sassiness. “Both, actually. I’m a civilian now.” Looking down at her boots, she bites her lips in thought.

His orbs fall to her lap, his voice going lower, “why?”

“I miss my granny”, Randy smiles and shrugs, tilting her head. He hums along and she comes a little closer, resting her chin on his shoulder. Jack sniggers, his hand flying to her knee in response. “How about you, why did you come here?”

Jack paused and his breath hitched. He should’ve seen the question coming, but somehow didn’t prepare for it. Why did he come, really? It was lost on him, if he was being honest. There were a lot of points left unexplained about her that still bugged him; like the illegal task force run by NSA, or even why Johnson was pronounced dead and given another identity when she hadn’t even been discharged. What did she do while working undercover for two national organs at the same time, exactly? What were her real motives, her ideals, her drives? Ryan knew this was his chance, perhaps the only one, to clear things up with Randy. However, with green orbs watching him expectantly, his common sense turned into goo.

“To say goodbye, properly.” Jack’s aware he sounds a lot huskier than necessary, closing his eyes when her face comes nearer. He stammers, gazing at her intensely, “you think I’m allowed that much?”

She clicks her tongue in jest, giving a head shake. “Jim’s not gonna like it.”

“Greer gave me the rundown on Randy Johnson.” The corner of his lip curls up as Jack goes in for a tender kiss. He whispers, pulling her into his arms, “he never said anything about Miranda Brooks.”

Randy’s grin got bigger as she let herself be held by him. Much was unsaid between them, but in her experience, there wasn’t a thing in this world that couldn’t get sorted out through a nice chat and some pancakes in sunny Arizona. Besides, who was to say the change she needed in her life wouldn’t be brought by Jack Ryan in his shining armour?

#jack ryan x reader #tom clancy's jack ryan #tom clancy's jack ryan x reader #john krasinski x reader #john krasinski #jack ryan x female oc #tom clancy's jack ryan x female oc #jack ryan

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therummonster · 1 year

Text

single quotes from the creation trio

Champagne: Did you just call me a shrimp, you asshole?! I'm still growing, dammit!

Benny: You can de-escalate literally any situation by asking ‘are we about to kiss?’ Benny: Doesn't work with getting out of speeding tickets, though.

Champagne: Caw caw, motherfuckers.

Benny: If I make you breakfast in bed, a simple "thank you" is all I need. Benny: Not all this "how did you get into my house" business.

Champagne: Well you see, the explanation is perfectly simple and scientific. It was because shut up. Shut up is why.

Champagne: When life gives you lemons, don't make lemonade. Make life take the lemons back! Get mad! I don't want your damn lemons, what the hell am I supposed to do with these? Demand to see life's manager! Make life rue the day it thought it could give Champagne lemons! Do you know who I am? I'm the person who's gonna burn your house down! With the lemons! I'm gonna get my engineers to invent a combustible lemon that burns your house down!

Champagne: Oh, so when crows remember people who wronged them and hold grudges, its “intelligent” and “really cool”. Champagne: But when I do it, I’m “petty” and “need to let it go”.

Benny: I just found out that humans are capable of fitting a light bulb into their mouth with ease but can’t take it out without shattering it, and now I have to physically restrain myself from putting a light bulb in my mouth

Vasilia: I’ve made a spread sheet of all the crime in Brooklyn. Vasilia: There’s so much crime in New York, no one should live here.

Vasilia: I'd make fun of your height but there isn't enough to make fun of.

Vasilia: New year, same me. Because I'm perfect.

Champagne: Pros and cons of dating me. Champagne: Pros. You'll be the cute one. Champagne: Cons. Holy shit, where do I begin-

Benny: Is this a good idea? Benny: Probably not. Benny: Do I care? Benny: No.

Vasilia: cocks gun Go to Bed. This is no longer a request, This is now a Threat.

Demon: Hey, I took your soul last month and- Champagne: No returns. Demon: sobbing But it's making me sad…

Benny: Fuck capitalism. It's a rigged system that keeps us poor and it isn't fair. You shouldn't need to work three jobs to afford basic necessities. Benny, playing Monopoly: Sorry, if you wanted to win you should have tried not being poor.

Benny: Sometimes I'll start a sentence and I don't even know where it's going. I just hope I find it along the way.

Champagne: Tired of just deserving better. Gonna start taking it by force.

Benny: If I stay in bed I'll be warm. If I get in the shower, I'll also be warm. But the distance between the bed and shower? No. That is not warm.

Champagne: I keep a picture of all of us in my wallet. Whenever I face difficulties, I take it out and stare at the picture. The Squad: Awwww- Champagne: And I tell myself "If I can deal with these idiots, then I can deal with anything." The Squad: Oh.

Champagne: I don’t think the therapist is supposed to say ‘wow’ that many times during their first session with a client, but here we are.

Champagne: I like wearing oversized sweaters. Not just because they're extremely comfy and cuddly, but because whenever the sleeves are really big, I get to flop them around and smack people.

Champagne: BEHOLD, the field in which I grow my fucks! Lay thine eyes upon it, and thou shalt see that it is barren!

Benny: The only thing keeping me from running away and hiding from society for the rest of my life is spite. I could disappear forever, but there are some bitches whose downfalls I have yet to witness, and I wanna be around when that happens.

#ah fuck i forgot the tags again.#benny sharp #popcrossstudios #dr champagne mcgregor #vasilia kuznet #therum creation

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jalapenobee · 2 years

Note

Klance goes Halloween costume/candy shopping

Three little demons

Pidge, being the lazy gremlin she is, stole one of Matt’s black cloaks and got a fake scythe from Party City down the street for her costume. She was the grim reaper.

Shiro just planned to wear brown and put a toy football, cut in half, on his nose with tape. He grasped his elbows with the opposite hands and let his arms hang, making an obnoxious “huh” sound whenever someone talked to him. He was a Minecraft villager.

Hunk, contrary to everyone’s assumptions, wasn’t going to be a chef. He pulled out a Santa beard from last year and dyed it black, twisting it so it wasn’t as puffy. He ordered a wizard costume online, and ta da, he was a wizard. On a quest, if I may add. To save his village.

Coran had scavenged for his space pirate disguise, which was now hanging on the back of his door for the 31st of October.

You can probably tell that these four already have their Halloween costumes ready. They do. But there were still three people who didn’t.

Keith, Lance, and Allura. Today, they’re going costume shopping at a sketchy market that Coran had given them directions to. He insisted it was totally safe.

We’ll see about that.

“Is this thing on? Yeah. Okay. Hello, everybody!”

“Lance, what are you doing? There’s nobody watching.”

“Yeah, but we’re gonna watch this later with everyone, so I might as well address the audience.” Lance’s fingers formed his signature finger gun pose, aimed directly at the one and only Keith.

A sigh came from behind the camera, and the view was flipped to the source of the noise. Allura. “Can we just get going? We only have two days before Halloween.”

Lance pouted but agreed. Time was running short, so they piled into Allura’s Lexus, camera pointed towards the floor, Keith snagging shotgun and shutting the passenger door before Lance could protest.

“Wha- Keith! You can’t do that, I was holding the camera!”

Keith rolled down the tinted window and flashed a smug smile. “I think I just did.”

“What if I sit in your lap?”

“We’re not that far, Lance.”

“Just sit in the backseat!”

“See? Look at what I gotta deal with. Especially with this mullet here.” Lance turned the camera’s view from a close up of his face towards Keith and jabbed a thumb in his direction.

“I can hear you, Lance.” They both rolled their eyes with Allura, who turned her key and started up the car as Lance climbed into the backseat.

“Let’s go, bitches.”

“I’m pretty sure Pidge taught her that word.”

“Okay, we’re here.”

The camera’s viewpoint shifted to an old-looking sign sporting the word “market” in red capital letters. Faded tents and stands stood in rows facing each other under it, selling various items, some more, ahem, suspicious than others.

“I don’t know why Coran thought we could find a Halloween costume at this place,” Keith muttered. “Let alone something that isn’t caked in dirt.”

Lance waggled his eyebrows at the camera. “Or blood.”

“Don’t- just don’t, Lance.” Allura’s annoyance was enough to get everyone to start walking down the rows of “shops”. It resembled an outdoor mall, really. Looking closer, the stores had their own special style and flair, and some were bigger than others. They weren’t all tiny shacks.

“Alright, and the search starts now. You guys wanna split up?”

Allura and Keith both shrugged and promptly turned around and walked away, leaving Lance.

Lance paused the recording on the camera and ran after Keith, catching up to him in an embarrassingly long amount of time. Even though he called his name and got Keith to stop.

“Wait, can I come with you? This place is kinda sketchy and… uh…”

“What?”

Lance dropped his voice to a timid whisper and cowered behind Keith. “I don’t wanna walk alone. Some of these guys look creepy.”

“So you want me to protect you?”

“Yup!”

“Long shot.” Keith rolled his eyes and continued to walk, scanning the front of the stores for one that looked like it sold costumes.

“Good thing I’m a sharpshooter, then. I’ll reach my target soon enough.”

“You already got your target, Lance.” Keith turned around and planted a small kiss on Lance’s cheek, who had started to walk with him.

“And we’re back! I’m here with my wonderful samurai boyfriend Keith, and- wait. Where’s Keith?”

Lance looked around, a confused expression on his face until he saw Keith waving him over from the entrance of one of the bigger stores.

“Ah, there he is. Let’s go find a costume!”

Lance rushed over to where Keith was standing, in the wide entrance of probably the only store that had good lighting and a clean floor.

“Can you not record me? It’s weird.”

“Sure, of course!”

Despite his sarcastic promise, Lance made it his mission to point the camera at Keith whenever he got the chance, proving to be a bad idea when the paladins watched the video later.

Keith led the two of them through the store, passing other customers and the occasional clerk until they got to a clothing section, displaying many varieties of eccentric garments (that felt way too sophisticated).

“There might be something good here…”

Lance rolled his eyes at Keith’s mumbling. “Damn right there is. We’re gonna find the best costumes.”

And with that, they began looking.

They split up again, Lance being left alone to be suspicious about everyone who crossed his path as he sorted through the racks of clothing, the camera forgotten and hanging at his neck by the strap. Nothing looked good enough, though. All of them were either too big or too small or just didn’t have enough flair.

The same thing was happening to Keith. He couldn’t find a good costume either, but at least he found Allura. They talked in hushed voices as they browsed through the short aisles.

“I can’t believe we actually came here.”

“Me neither. Coran can be kind of suspicious sometimes.”

Allura nodded in agreement and fingered a costume that stood out from the rest. It was a demon costume, but she didn’t really care. It had black wings and horns, and a dark red tail attached to the back of the black bootcut pants. A blood red halter top hung under a thin white mesh shawl that would’ve reached her elbows.

She grinned. “I think this is the one.”

“This isn’t like shopping for wedding rings, Allura.”

She rolled her eyes and bid a goodbye to Keith, walking off to find the checkout line. One demon.

“Now I am officially with Keith, and I think we’ve found our Halloween costumes! After someone spent ten minutes trying on one of them, only to decide it was too big.”

“It was too big. And these are girl’s costumes!”

“So? Who cares?”

Lance let the camera hang from the strap as he held up the two matching costumes to Keith.

Guess what they were.

I dare you.

They were *ahem* female demon costumes. And Lance had his heart set on wearing them. Two demons down, one to go.

Both had horns and tails similar to the ones on Allura’s costume, but the wings were smaller and bright red. And under a black crop top hung glittering black and red ruffled miniskirts that Keith didn’t want to wear.

Too bad for him.

“Cmon, please?” Lance draped the costumes over his right arm and lifted the camera, pointing it at Keith. “I really wanna match for Halloween. Don’t you think we’d look cute in skirts?”

“Don’t you think this is perfect blackmail material for Pidge?”

“It clearly never crossed your mind that I have better blackmail material than Pidge.”

Keith opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Lance did have a point… wait, no! He might’ve been right, but Keith is not wearing a skirt for Halloween.

Hold up. Unless…

“Alright, I’ll wear it, but on one condition.”

Lance felt a bright smile form on his face. “And that is?”

“Ditch your skincare routine for a week.”

“Deal! Wait, what? I can’t do that!”

“Nope, you already agreed! One week starts now!” Three little demons.

“Get back here!”

Whoops… there goes any chance of being pimple free on Halloween. But it’s worth it, Lance thought, if I get to see Keith in a dress.

1,494 words

Im sorry because this isn’t really Klance and it wasn’t very on topic, but I’m PROUD of this

I crunched it out in one and a half days now I feel powerful

There’s also an art piece I’m working on that connects to this, it’ll be out in a few days to a week

#my fics #klance #allura #like I said I feel POWERFUL #anon asked #klance fanfiction #vld fanfic

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pebblysand · 2 years

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[castles writing/editing sprint round up]

okay, lads, it's 7pm, sunday 3rd of july, and i'm putting an end to this week’s castles writing and editing sprint. i would currently love to keep writing but if i do, i’m gonna be here until three o’clock in the morning and i have work tomorrow, so. here’s an update on where things are at the moment:

chapter 11: i had a major round of editing to do + one scene i wanted to fix, and that’s done now, i’m super happy. this bitch is looking gooooood. i do have a couple more editing rounds to do (basically, a “coherence” edit where i read this chapter + the two before and make sure nothing clashes and one for any last remaining typos) but otherwise, it’s good to go. worse comes to worse, i’ll at least be able to release that one in early august. it’s currently around 13k, and i don’t think it’ll change much at this stage. it needs a title though and i’m fucking running out of one-syllable construction materials, what a DUMB idea that was, jo-from-the-past.

chapter 12 and 13: i’m grouping these because they’re currently written as one big block, which i’ll split in the middle when i finish the first draft. i’m anticipating 30k, and i’m at 22k at the moment. i was really hoping to have the first draft at the end of this weekend but it’s 7pm on a sunday, so that’s not gonna happen, let’s be real. i know i won’t be able to write much this week (work + the podcast recording and editing) but i’m hoping to try and chip away a bit every day, just to keep the muse going until next weekend, and maybe finish then? then intensive editing until august? i have three days off i booked at the end of july to edit and get everything ready, which hopefully will help. i just really, really wanna finish those but the tight timeline is starting to stress me out.

generally: fuck, i’d forgotten how much i love this story. it’s funny, i was telling lani before we recorded last episode, castles is a weird one. every time i leave it aside for a while, i tend to “forget” about it, or think i don’t love it as much anymore. then i get back into it, and oh. boy. these three chapters are also so satisfying to write because there is so much character development and growth in them, as well as plot things (ginny, amycus, the trials, mia, etc.) that are coming to a head. there is honestly nothing i want to do more right now than quit work and just let myself get buried in this story for three months and finish it off, but alas, capitalism.

anyway, i hope yous all had a good weekend. i certainly did. i love my little world of fiction more than anything else, sometimes. you can probably tell why i’m single, lolz.

lots of love,

jo.

#castles #fic #writing

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firecrackerhh · 11 days

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Seeing someone be a fan of helluva boss and also post fucking SWERF and TERF talking points in other posts is like…bitch are you a fucking retard?

Like for fucks sake why tf do fucking weirdo conservatives (cuz frankly if you think that way, you’re a conservative) even like Viv’s stuff to begin with?

Like how can you be ok with messy gays but bitch about inclusive cute comics about non-binary and trans identities or cry about “duh liberals!!!” Or cry that men paying sex workers is “rape culture” as if every sex worker is being forced into it or some fucking horseshit.

I’m not saying I’m against discussions about this shit, I’m not saying there’s no nuance, but assuming every guy is automatically a rapist over consensual sex is fucking bullshit. That’s not nuance, that’s misandry.

You second wave feminist types have some shit to work through or something I stg.

Like for the love of god the cognitive dissonance is astounding, how can you even feed yourself, I’m surprised people like that like anything Viv creates.

Cognitive dissonance is a fascinating phenomenon truly.

For the record, I don’t tolerate that fucking SWERF/TERF shit, if you do that shit and you follow me you can frankly take a nice long walk off a short fucking pier, I don’t care, die mad about it.

If you’re a piece of shit to innocent people for no good fucking reason, you are frankly, vermin to me, I reiterate, you can fucking die mad about it.

And honestly, if you’re a TERF/SWERF, I don’t think you should be watching Viv’s stuff either, people like you just…frankly, you go against everything the show itself stands for, neither of Viv’s shows promote conservative values of any kind, and if you think they do…there’s not enough insults I can throw your way.

And if you’re a fucking “progressive” person who uses conservative talking points to try to make yourself look ‘better’ than the other left leaning people around you, you’re a fucking pick-me and it’s fucking pathetic.

If you think shitting on enby or trans identities or sex work or any other kind of “degenerate” behavior will make you look better in the eyes of conservatives…there’s not enough insults.

Conservatives will never like you, just cuz you’re the last person to die at the gas chamber doesn’t change the fact you’re in the fucking gas chamber!

How can I respect these people when they don’t even have respect for themselves?

I’m just keeping it real here, if left leaning people are “degenerate” because of the gays and sex work or whatever else, then hoo BOY conservatives are no fucking better.

Stg some conservatives practically wanna go back to the days of the Roman Empire, motherfucking Ancient Greece kinda bullshit, (I’m pretty sure going backwards to such an extent is also degeneracy tbh, if we’re going by the actual definition of the word,) and even then, they can’t fucking escape the gays or sex work, motherfucker do you not realize how fucking gay the Greeks and Roman’s were???? (Well, to the Greeks and Romans at the time, it wasn’t gay if you were a top)

Sex work, prostitution, whatever you call it, is considered “the oldest profession” for a reason! As if someone selling their body for sex is in any way different from how every day people sell their fucking bodies to their dead-end jobs or the fucking military, it’s all fucking capitalism baby and we’re the fucking currency!

Who cares about dollars and cents when it’s people that make the system work, monetary value is rather arbitrary to begin with imo, and it’ll be especially worthless if God forbid the nukes drop and kill us all. No people, no money,

Don’t even get me started on that retarded fucking 1950s ad campaign bullshit that conservatives are retarded enough to believe was in any way real and not purely fucking…well, advertising.

All conservatives really want is for everyone to be fucking subjugated under their fucking heel, so convinced they will be at the top of the hierarchy without realizing that, realistically, they would also be eating their fair share of shit, it’s not like every Roman citizen was a part of the Senate, not every white man in the 50s was fucking living it up in suburbia with a happy wife and 2 kids and a dog. (Never mind how many fucking tranqs those poor women probably had to take so they didn’t fucking off themselves or their husbands after they got an ass whooping for forgetting to smile or some retarded ass shit)

And if you’re a woman (or a minority in general tbh) and fucking drinking that Kool-Aid?

I reiterate, how on God’s green earth, heaven, and Lucifer’s infernal hell, could I possibly respect you if it’s obvious you don’t respect yourself?

If you honestly think life would be better for you…frankly I think you should be checked out, your delusions cause you nothing but suffering.

But hey, it ain’t my life, if you wanna be miserable, go ahead, just remember when reality knocks you the fuck out one day, I imagine very few people are going to have sympathy for you.

…I can’t stay on topic for shit can I?

Whatever, not like anything I said wasn’t truthful, I may be harsh, but it isn’t without good reason.

Some people make me wanna just…crawl into their brain so I can study it like an entomologist would study a bug.

Hell, sometimes I wish I could do that for myself just so I could know wtf my problem is Lmao.

🔥🧨~Firecracker out~🔥🧨

Also happy Pride month 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

#tis i the werebitch #Lmao #I went from #Conservatives liking Viv’s stuff is retarded #to COMRADE WE HAVE NOTHING TO LOSE BUT OUR CHAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIINNNNNSSSSS #back to conservatives are retarded lmao #can’t stay on topic for shit #sorry if this is a mess lmao #I’m sure y’all get the gist

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radgalniya · 3 months

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eternal sunshine review

you already knowwww. another album review.

random thoughts:

so the thing is i didn’t have high hopes for this, bc i hated sweetener and people were saying this was like a part 2. and shitting on positions, my favorite ari album, to compare this one. so i’m like i’m gonna hate this. but i am actually so excited bc i like it. i finally have new music to be obsessed w rather than relistening to the same songs over and over.

also just bc i like the album, don’t mean i’m like a homewrecker stan. she gotta chill.

she should’ve kept the red themed cover like i get the message of the new one but it just doesn’t hit the same.

anyways bc i’m a psycopath, i listened out of order bc that’s the only way i can properly listen idk y.

also i love that there’s no musical features

anyways to the review:

intro(end of the world):

it’s a cute lil intro. my everything vibes. 6/10. probably won’t relisten to this one much. but i love how she’s being so honest on this album bc i’m a nosey ass bitch. love when ppl air out their business. more more!

bye:

modern disco viiibes. upbeat. very dancey. but also lyrically it’s very idk not melancholy but like kind of sadish i like that. 7/10. the song is really not my personal taste but it’s really good still.

don’t wanna break up again:

naur he turned up the tv when he heard her crying throw that man in the trash!!! i like this one. i like the melody and lyrics and the chorus is my favorite part of the song. i wish the production was a little more melodic. it only does it for me during the chorus tbh. but i like this song. 8/10 “but i just can’t refuse” in the chorus sounds like the “im finding ways to stay concentrated on what i gotta do” in die for you by the weeknd.

saturn returns interlude:

idk man some woman talking what do you want me to say. isn’t it weird that this is the only track with capital letters tho?

eternal sunshine:

i really hate trap beats tbh. but ik it’s like ari’s signature now. but ick. it’s a bop tho for sure. but not really my taste. i only really like it bc the lyrics. i just love ppl telling their business y’all i’m not kidding. 7/10

supernatural:

AHHHHHH BITCHCHHHH YESSSS THIS IS WTF i’m TALKIN ABOUT THIS IS POP BITCH YESSS 100000/10 i love the modern 80s pop vibe and the chorus is so perfect w/ the beat. it just rides man i love this song. i’d love this album JUST for this song.

true story:

so 90s love it. very aaliyah beat. i love a good 90s r&b moment so ofc this is an automatic like even if the chorus isn’t that catchy. idk ig i just feel like pop should have catchy melodies and/or an infectious beat. y’know? also she ate w/ the belting at the end. 8/10

the boy is mine:

YASSSSSSS. again we know i love a 90s vibe. the slowdown right before the chorus is insaane. and the choral style harmonies on the “is” of the boy is mine scratches something in my brain as well as the “gotta be a reason why” robotic voice thing. this is so catchy. this is totally a fantasize vibe. so good. 10/10

yes and?:

i dont have it in me to keep defending this song from u vultures. AND i wish she put the mariah carey version on the album too 8/10 and no i will not be explaining myself further y’all are gonna make me cry.

we can’t be friends (wait for your love):

feel i’m getting an 80s vibe again. i like it. i’m loving the upbeat music, sadish vibe lyrics thing going on in this album. i like the vibe of this song a lot. i do wish something in here was more catchy. but i like it. it’s so soft and wistful almost. that’s probably why i’ll relisten. conjure up some interesting maladaptive daydreams w/ this one. 7/10 edit: i watched the video now i like it more. 8/10 lol

i wish i hated you:

it’s very vulnerable. again i’m nosey so i like that. but the song is eh for me. i don’t think this is a song i’d listen to for the music but more for the vibe. 6/10

imperfect for you:

i looooove it. a little weird melodically but i love it. just scratches something in my brain it’s so good. so catchy. 10/10

ordinary things:

it’s good. not one of my favorites but the more i listen, the more i like it. i love the way she pronounces ordinary in here lol. 7/10

okay that’s all really

p.s. i feel like why try from my everything would fit in here idk. this album feels like a perfect combination of all of her others, it’s so weird how that works out. i love it tho. pleasantly surprised!!

#chronicles of niya #music #ariana grande #eternal sunshine #album review

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crookedtoothjesus · 3 months

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Sitting in the galleria contemplating my desire. A fear of adding to the bullshit is major for me. In reality I can’t burn down this system myself. Being a god is knowing you’re not the god. There’s boundless and endless energies against my power alone I can only do so much and if I’m gone life most likely just goes on. This is a very tricky game if you choose to ponder it atleast. mashing turbo until you crash or win is definitely an option.

When it comes to these luxury stores and fashion houses I feel like there’s something more significant for me to do but at the same time the creation of things that shift inner frequency (I can’t wait until I’m well studied enough to actually know how to say that correctly) is my spaceship. I’m not gonna give this dream up and go plant some carrots somewhere never to be seen again that feels like I’m running. Capitalism just feels like such a filthy game to play and part of me wants no parts but I’m not finna be broke and feeling restricted out here. Thats how the system gets you I guess.

I don’t want to manipulate people hurt people hustle people I just don’t wanna be a bitch ass nigga I wanna be a honest man cause I can live with myself in that. Can I do that and build in music fashion and film with a shit ton of resources I just don’t know. I don’t wanna be broke and woke lmfao.

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noellawrites · 2 years

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Back On Top (1) - Yandere!Johnny Lawrence x reader

part 2 linked here

requested by: @milfodyssey

summary: you were an All Valley Champ, once upon a time. what happens when your boyfriend wants you to get back on the mat?

warning: manipulative/abusive relationship, minor verbal/physical abuse

You used to be good at karate, once upon a time. Eight years ago, at the ripe age of sixteen, you had sought out the one and only Johnny Lawrence to help you win the All Valley Under-18 Tournament. And it had worked. Twice. You were also the first female champion, let alone the first female to win twice in a row.

Now here you were at twenty four, dating your old sensei. Your life was great, by most terms. You were a barista at Starbucks and lived with Johnny in his Reseda apartment. All four of your combined AVT trophies still sat in your closet, moved back after Cobra Kai had been taken from Johnny.

You occasionally helped out at Eagle Fang and Miyagi-Do, as you were still a bit of a legend in the Valley. You never capitalized on your wins like Daniel had, but people had always been extra nosy and judgemental when they found out you were dating the man who had been your mentor in your youth.

“Wake up, hey, (y/n), get up! You’re gonna wanna see this,” Johnny prodded, grabbing your shoulder and shaking it profusely.

“What, Johnny? What is it?” you groaned, waking up against your will.

“I got a letter today from the All Valley Committee. Apparently, there’s gonna be one female and one male winner—“

“Bullshit,” you interrupted. Was your legacy really that difficult to surpass?

“But that’s not the important part. They’re adding an 18-25 division! You can finally compete again!” Johnny explained, barely able to contain his excitement.

As much as you loved your boyfriend, he had been really tough on you when you were a teenager. You put karate behind you years ago and you had no reason to return to the mat now.

“Johnny, I love you but I don’t think I want to compete again. Karate is way behind me. And I’m probably really fuckin’ rusty,” you added, laughing a bit to ease the mood.

“Nah, you can come train with Eagle Fang and I’ll help you get back into the groove,” he urged. It seemed like your boyfriend wanted this a lot more than you did.

“Johnny, I’m not gonna compete.”

“Yes, you fucking are! You were the best student I ever trained. You had potential. I’m not letting you throw that away just because you’re a little bitch and wanna complain!” he yelled, grabbing you by the collar and pulling you upwards.

“Johnny, stop! Leave me alone with this shit!” you yelled, scrambling against his arms.

“You’re going to come to Eagle Fang tonight, and you’re gonna like it!” he seethed, letting you go and leaving your shared room.

It looked like you were about to compete in the AVT once again.

After Johnny left you alone in the bedroom, you stood up to look at yourself in the mirror.

You were… not quite in shape. You went to the gym once in a great while, but it hadn’t stopped your body from going soft in the years since you’d hit puberty. You definitely didn’t have the same body you did when you were sixteen.

If Johnny was going to force you into this, you would have to whip yourself into shape in the three months you had left until the competition.

#johnny lawrence x reader #cobra kai x reader #johnny lawrence imagine #cobra kai imagine #yandere johnny lawrence #yandere cobra kai #johnny lawrence #cobra kai

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marauderundercover · 3 years

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This Side of Normal Ch. 7

AO3

Marinette Dupain Cheng didn’t have a normal life. On the contrary, some would call her life Miraculous. Well, one would. And she would whack him every time. As much as she loved her brother (in all but blood) Adrien, she couldn’t stand his puns most of the time. After he first lost his arm a year ago at the final battle against Hawkmoth, she let him get away with a lot of puns and awful jokes. Because she blamed herself for his injury. She should’ve been able to fix him. But she wasn’t. She still blamed herself some days, but she no longer laughed at every single one of his puns. He knew she hated them, and it was better for her mental health to let him know how awful they were. She’s stirred from her thoughts by Adrien nudging her, obviously trying to get her attention.

“Where are we going for our spring break trip? You helped Mme. Bustier plan that, right?” Adrien asks. She frowns, not sure what brought that topic up.

“We’re going to spend a week in New York and then a week in London. Why?” She asks, confused at his worried expression.

“Okay well, maybe you should tell Mme. Bustier that. Because she just said that we’re spending two weeks in New Jersey.” Adrien says with a grimace.

“WHAT!?” She yells, jumping out of her seat.

“Marinette! I was trying to go over the details of the trip. I’m very disappointed in you. You know better than to interrupt like that.” Mme. Bustier says, shaking her head with a small frown. Marinette’s face turns red and she drops back into her seat, muttering an apology.

“What do you mean we’re going to New Jersey? What’s even in New Jersey?” She asks Adrien in a hushed whisper, conscious of the glares from Lila at the front of the room but determined to ignore them any way she can.

“Gotham, apparently. And the Wayne family. According to Lila, she can get us in for a tour at Wayne Enterprises and Gotham Academy and every other thing the Waynes do. Because she’s dating Damian Wayne, didn’t you know?” Adrien explains, lip quirking in amusement. Marinette groans, dropping her head onto their table.

“Do you realize now I’m going to have to arrange at least part of that? Or we won’t have anything to do and we’ll be stuck in some random city for two whole weeks.” Marinette says, a headache already forming.

“Or, or, hear me out. You could just let her fail. And the trip will flop and everyone will see that she’s awful.” Adrien says. It was a much different response than what he would’ve had a year ago. But the defeat of Hawkmoth and the revelation that his father was a supervillain was enough to alter Adrien’s world view. He wasn’t hopelessly optimistic anymore. He was more cynical. He was still insanely kind, but he didn’t give out his kindness to people who didn’t deserve it. Like the lying bitch in their class.

“I don’t wanna be stuck in a hotel with her for two weeks.” Marinette points out with a grimace. “Wait a minute, why does Gotham sound familiar?”

“Probably from when you were friends with Alya. Batman and his whole team is from Gotham.” He says, slumping down in his seat so that he can continue to whisper to her.

“Oh goody. Crime capital of the US and Lila decides to lie her way into the city. But it wasn’t enough for just her to be targeted. Oh no, she had to get our entire class involved. Yippee.” Marinette snarks, shoving her face back into her folded arms on the desk. It was too much for this early. Time for a nap.

---

After submitting a five thousand word essay on how beneficial a tour of Wayne Enterprises would be and an additional three thousand word essay to Gotham Academy on the benefits of having an exchange class for a week, Marinette was pleased to say that their trip to Gotham wouldn’t be completely boring.

In fact, it would be similar enough to what Lila had lied that hopefully, she wouldn’t be blamed for messing anything up. Sure, they wouldn’t have personal tours from the Wayne family or an invitation to the Spring Gala that the Waynes were hosting, but at least they’d have something to do in Crime City. Hopefully with the amount of security at both Gotham Academy and WE, they wouldn’t run into too many villains. After three years under Hawkmoth, she never wanted to deal with a villain again. Unless she could punch him or her in the face. Then yeah, she’d happily meet a villain. But seeing as it’s highly frowned upon to piss off a Gotham villain like that, she’d prefer to just not see one at all. Would certainly make things easier.

Marinette huffs, glaring at the mess of clothes falling out of her suitcase. She’d started packing two days ago, and then yesterday discovered that she packed the outfit she wanted to wear on the plane. So then she had to take everything out, but then she couldn’t find the outfit and after throwing everything around she found the outfit. Still in her dresser. And now she had a huge mess falling out of her suitcase and not enough time left to pack neatly. Not if she wanted to get any sleep.

“Hey Adrien, can you give me a hand?” She asks, beginning to fold the mess of clothes back up. He’s silent for a minute, and then she hears a click. She sighs and looks up just in time to catch the arm he threw at her.

“There you go!” He says cheekily, a wide grin on his face as he hangs upside down from her bed. She narrows her eyes.

“You know what I meant, you absolute menace.” She deadpans. He snorts before dropping down, landing gracefully and catching the arm she throws back at him.

“You know you love me, Bug.” He says, helping her fold her clothes.

“Unfortunately.” She says with a dramatic sigh. “You hear from Jay yet this week?”

“Yeah. Told me, and I quote ‘stop annoying Pixie Pop with your lameass jokes kid. I can’t protect you from her fury from across the ocean’.” He says with a laugh.

“At least he knows I’d best you in a fight.” She says with a hum. Adrien sputters, an offended look on his face as he slams her last shirt into her suitcase.

“That is not what that meant!” He argues with a pout.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Kitty.” She says, zipping the suitcase shut and trying hard to ignore the bad feeling settling deep into her stomach. Something was going to happen in Gotham, and she wasn’t sure if it would be good or bad.

---

Of course the class would leave them on their first full day in Gotham. It made sense. They’d hated Mari before Hawkmoth’s reveal. And after Hawkmoth’s reveal, they were hesitant around Adrien. Even with the whole ‘my dad cut off my arm’ thing. So honestly, leaving the two of them stranded at the hotel was just par for the course.

“At least we’re together.” Marinette says bitterly, thinking of the fact that the class would be getting to tour Wayne Enterprises. A place that she had worked hard to allow them to tour.

“Come on Mari, look on the bright side.” Adrien says, grabbing her hand and tugging her along.

“What bright side? We were left behind, in Gotham, of all places. What could possibly be good about this situation?” She asks, slightly dragging her feet as he tugged her along behind him.

“Mmmm, the fact that Wayne Enterprises is only a block away.” He says with a grin. She straightens immediately, actually keeping up with his pace now instead of allowing herself to be dragged behind him.

“Why didn’t you lead with that?” She asks, shaking her head in faux disappointment. He shrugs.

“I like a little chaos.” He says. Marinette opens her mouth to snark back at him, but is instead silenced by the building in front of her. Wayne Enterprises was slightly intimidating, but she was still amazed by its design. It was modern and sleek and her hand twitched towards the sketchbook in her purse. She could just imagine skirts with the same sleek shapes and dark colors, suits whose build was used to make the wearer look taller. Just as she��s about to pull out her sketchbook, she sees a familiar head of hair walking into the building. Dark hair with a white streak. But-

“Was that Jason?” She asks, suddenly far more interested in the man who just walked in. Adrien’s gaze snaps to where hers is, frowning at the closed door.

“I don’t know, but let’s go see.” He says, and this time, she’s the one tugging him. Their class completely forgotten. Until they walk through the doors and hear the incessant chatter and noise that comes with being around Lila Rossi. But not enough that is enough to deter the two from their goal. Especially when the man they’d followed turns around, a familiar face set into a scowl.

“Jay!” Marinette calls, waving at him. The man’s scowl instantly drops into a wide smile and he rushes past the class, sweeping the two up into a huge hug.

“Pixie! Kid! What are you two doing here?” He asks, holding them close.

“Jay-Jay, can’t breathe.” Mari says, letting out a puff of air as he sets them down gently.

“Hey Jay!” Adrien says, a wide smile on his face, one of the most sincere smiles Mari had seen in a while. She felt her own face fall into an easy smile. After a year apart, they were together again.

“Uh. Jason? Job, remember?” A voice asks, pulling the three out of their reunion. Jason looks at the man and rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, Dick, thanks. I’d completely forgotten why I came all the way here.” He snarks, no venom in his tone.

“Did you just-” Marinette starts to ask, uncertain if he was calling the man a name or?

“Shit, I forget that even though you speak it just fine, English isn’t your first language. His name is Richard, but ‘Dick’ is a nickname for Richard. It’s what he usually goes by.” Jason explains, snorting at the look on her face. She huffs and rolls her eyes.

“Well excuse me, Mr. To be fair, you calling someone that wouldn’t be out of the question. You have shitty language a lot of the time.” She teases with a smirk.

“That’s it. You’re disowned. I no longer claim you as my little sister.” He says, turning around dramatically and walking away. Marinette’s jaw drops at him. She looks at Adrien who just smirks, and then at Dick who just looks confused with the entire situation.

“What the hell was that? I thought I was the dramatic one.” She pouts.

“Looks like you’ve lost your touch Bug.” Adrien says, crossing his arms. Her eyes narrow.

“Is that a challenge?” She asks. He shrugs.

“Do with it what you will. Just don’t get him in trouble, I think he actually works here.” He says, glancing around the packed lobby. Marinette looks around and sighs. She didn’t want to make a scene with the class, and she definitely didn’t want Jason to get in trouble.

“I’ll get him later.” She mumbles, falling into place on Adrien’s right side naturally. The two walk in sync to the rest of the class, oblivious to the bewildered look given to them by Dick Grayson.

Master list

Tag list (open): @toodaloo-kangaroo @laurcad123 @kittenmywaythrulife @lost-in-the-world-of-maribat

#maribat #maribat jason todd #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat adrien agreste #platonic maribat adrienette #maribat platonic adrienette #fanfic #ao3fic #platonic jasonette #This Side of Normal #maribat big brother Jason Todd #maribat fic #akuma glass goes to gotham #maribat gotham fic #maribat but make it all left au

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trickrydomain · 2 years

Text

MEMES FROM THE GODLESS LAND OF TIKTOK REVISITED

the below prompts are a mix of general thoughts, 2am thoughts, suggestive prompts, and some nihilistic / possibly triggering prompts related to self reflection.

your bones are wet.

i prefer my puns intended.

alexa, turn off my emotions.

i’m baby, and i’m fucking cute.

you have failed the vibe check.

beef jerky is just meat raisins.

*brandishing a knife* cuddle me.

the point of golf is to play less golf.

i’m shaving my legs, then i’m on my way.

do you like potatoes? no? then fuck you.

the gods don’t want to fuck you!! stop!!

listen here you delicious fuck, i like you.

bold of you fucks to assume that i’m not god.

i can be your comfort and your favorite threat.

what’s your toxic trait? mine is being a bitch.

i want to suck you in like my one last cigarette.

hey did you hear there’s mercury in the gatorade.

that’s…that’s it? that’s your evil villain excuse?

who the fuck is playing music at 2 in the morning?!

are cakes with filling just really thick sandwiches?

i want you every day for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

i’m big spoon. i may be a backpack, but i’m big spoon.

if asexual is “shagnostic”, are bisexuals “ambisextrous”?

which one of you motherfuckers snitched on me to my mom?!

you come over here right now and smack my ass like a drum.

i’m a top! i may be a crop top, but i’m still a fucking top.

what song do you think could be made in to a good sea shanty?

( sender tries to lift a heavy rock to impress the receiver.)

if bears aren’t meant to be hugged, why are they friend-shaped?

if your tongue sticks when you lick it it’s a bone! *clap clap*

you’re the best kind of fucking person and i would die for you.

i didn’t see that coming. probably because i had my back turned.

living people eat dead mushrooms. living mushrooms eat dead people.

fried eggs and fried chicken are different stages of the same food.

shiny knick knacks go click clack *shakes [small objects] together*

one day, i wanna be rich enough that my big fridge has a lil fridge.

the neighbors don’t take care of their dog so i guess it’s mine now.

you want my last name? that’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever said to me.

i’m compact, okay? i know i’m small but that doesn’t mean i’m not strong.

this dude thinks he can seduce me with his jawline? *a scoff* he’s right.

mercury might be in gatorade, but the pug had bones. let’s get this bread.

my electronic toothbrush died, so now i have to brush my teeth acoustically.

the only b-word i’ll ever call you is beautiful. (a pause) i love you, bitch.

i don’t know why people call it the roof of their mouth when it’s the ceiling.

i believe there are aliens in the ocean and nobody ever fucking listens to me.

i’m….so sorry….i’ve learned….my lesson (throws an object to distract and runs away).

i just found out what a biblically correct angel looks like and honestly, i’m scared.

trauma isn’t just the bad things that happened. it’s also the good things that never came.

if you’re sad or mad, shove that shit down deep and eat an uncrustable like the rest of us.

i called you to this meeting because i’m sad and you’re supposed to do something about that.

you want to take a shower? you gotta knock on the wall and ask the water to come out nicely.

flirt with me just right and, as long as you respect my boundaries, you could unlock my wares.

there’s the saying ‘you are what you eat’…now i’m concerned for the people who say ‘i’m baby’.

i was doing stuff with my birth chart and i was not prepared to learn that the moon knows i’m gay.

don’t you hate it when you’re trying to pick a scenario to fall asleep to and there’s nothing good on?

i’m just saying, when you go underwater, you enter a dimension where you can fly but you can’t breathe.

do you know who gets sent in when people want to act a fool? this basic bitch who’s secretly full of rage.

the only way capitalism can become beneficial is if it becomes legal to eat the rich once they become too wealthy.

sure my body’s a temple, but you know what? some temples are unkempt and falling apart and maybe a little bit haunted.

in other news, the sexual position known as 69 will now be called 96. due to the economy, the cost of eating out has gone up.

i was just walking outside and it looks like someone fell (evidence that they are the one that fell) i feel bad for that idiot.

god making me was like, “little bit of sugar, little bit of spice, little bit of everything nice…and a big ol’ heaping handful of bitch.”

i was single for a long time, like a long time. but then i met the love of my life. he is my boyfriend - he doesn't know it yet, but he is.

are you under the impression that i allow everyone in my life to treat me like this, or are you asking me to make an exception just for you? answer quickly.

look, what i’m saying is an apology is not worth saying if you don’t feel bad about what you did and it’s not really an apology unless it features an admission of fault and a promise to not repeat the behavior.

i don’t know what happened but the toilet is smoking! ( cut to inside a bathroom, two rolls of toilet paper have been placed on the closed lid to resemble eyes, and a tube is pinned between the lid and seat, resembling a cigar )

#✑ memes — ᴍᴜꜱᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛꜱ .#// feel free to reblog without sending

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adhdeancas · 3 years

Text

12x01 Rewrite with Trans Dean

trigger warnings for minor mention of dysphoria. Also minor/negligent transphobia.

“Mom?” His heart is stopped in his chest, staring at the face he’s kept in his head for all of his life, the face he’s thought of as the only real home he’s ever had. She looks the same, exactly the same. “I… uh, are you really… real?”

He reaches out without thinking, needing to just make sure that Amara didn’t bring back a fantasy or a ghost or a sick joke. She proves it without him touching her, flipping him in a neat trick he recognizes from his own training and ending up with her foot on his neck, pressing him into the dirt. “Where am I? Who the hell are you?”

She looks so scared. Dean swallows, his Adam’s apple bouncing against the bottom of her foot. He needs to make her trust him, preferably before she does something rash like snap his neck. “I’m Dean Winchester. I’m your son. I’m… Sam’s brother”

The pressure lets up on Dean’s neck even though Mary’s shaking her head. “No. No, I don’t have two boys. They’re- they’re just kids.”

Dean winces, breathing heavily. This is gonna be a motherfucker for her to understand. Still, Mary lets him up, and he stands and rubs his neck, trying desperately to recall every bit of information he’s stored away about his mom. “Mom. Listen to me. Your name- your name is Mary Sandra Campbell, okay? You were born December 5, 1954, to Samuel and Deanna Campbell. Your father, he bounced around a lot for, uh, work, and you bounced right along with him, and you ended up in Lawrence, Kansas.”

Mary flinches, the facts hitting straight-on. “How do you know all that?”

“Dad told me.” Dean tells her. He doesn’t tell her that he had to gather the story from slurred words, drunken tears in between stories about the perfect wife. That he recited them in his head like a prayer so he wouldn’t forget her. “March 23, 1972, you walked out of a movie theater - Slaughterhouse-Five. You loved it, and you bumped into a big Marine and you knocked him flat on his ass. You were embarrassed, and he laughed it off, said you could make it up to him with a cup of coffee. So, you went to, uh,” God, what was the name of that stupid place? “Mulroney’s, and you talked and he was cute and he knew the words to every Zeppelin song,” A memory of a smiling young alive Mary comes to mind, and he pushes it away because it hurts. She’s right there. “So when he asked you for your number, you gave it to him, even though you knew your dad would be pissed. That was the night that -” You fell in love with- “that you met -”

“John Winchester.”

“August 19, 1975, you were married… in Reno. Your idea.”Dean had always thought that was hilarious. He looks her in the eyes again, pleading with her to not dispute the next part. “A few years later, I came along, then Sammy.”

“No, no. My oldest was a girl, Deanna.” Mary looks Dean up and down, taking in his short hair, wide shoulders, and flat chest. He crosses his arms over that now, uncomfortable, hoping she isn’t looking at his long eyelashes or his delicate cheekbones or his hips. All the places he’s insecure about.

“Yeah, um… that’s me.” He looks up at her, his jaw clenching, waiting for the ball to drop. “I shortened the name a little, and the- uh- hair.” He tries for the old charming smile as he runs a hand through the spiky hair he hasn’t let grow out in 20 years. It doesn’t quite get there, settling at a more delicate need for approval. Mary doesn’t give it to him. “Do you believe me?”

She bypasses the question, turning her eyes away from him to look at the car behind him. Something changes in her eyes. “I burned.” She says quietly, like she’s remembering the heat. Dean swallows. He remembers the heat too. “How long have I been gone?”

“33 years.” His voice cracks.

Mary looks back to him, and she moves forward, putting two gentle fingers to his cheek, to the freckles sprayed across soft skin. He’s had them forever, even when he was little. “Dee?” She calls him by his old nickname; Dean’s doubly thankful that he doesn’t use his deadname.

“Hi, mom.” There are tears in his eyes.

------------------------------------------------------

“How did he die?”

Dean bows his head. He’s really not selling himself too good here, is he? First the trans thing, now- “He gave himself up for me.” He’ll be surprised if Mary wants anything to do with him. Surprisingly, she chuckles and sniffles.

“That does sound like John.” He looks over, and she’s smiling. His brow furrows. Killing himself to save Dean’s ass does sound like John, but not in a way that makes him want to smile. “And he was a hunter? And he raised-” She stutters now, looking at him again and looking away just as quickly. “You and Sam to be-”

“Yeah, he did.” A cold weight is settling in Dean’s stomach, and he tries and fails to not let it seep into his words.

“And you said we’ve met before, when you traveled through time,”

Dean nods. It had been horrible and amazing to see Mary and have her see him, just as some guy. A guy, at all. “Twice. Your memory got wiped, so…” So you don’t remember me telling you I was your kid, and you not believing me. I do.

“And you’re… my daughter-”

Dean coughs. He hasn’t been called a daughter in a long-ass time. “No, I’m- I mean. I was. I know it’s a lot. And I’ll explain everything. I will. But right now, let’s get out of here. Let’s get you home. Come on, Mom.”

She doesn’t correct him, which means she must believe, at least a little bit, that she is his mom.

-----------------------------------------------------

“You live here?” She looks around the cavernous space and he smiles, looking around too. It really is awesome.

“Yeah, when we’re not on the road. It’s an old Men of Letters bunker.”

“Men of Letters?” She scoffs. Dean grins a bit and looks at her. He thinks he likes her. “They’re a myth. An old hunter’s story.”

He tilts his head. He’s just gonna keep blowing her mind today, apparently. “Not so much. New duds look good.” He gestures to her clothes. He’d lent her some extra clothes he’d had in the trunk, and he tries not to fixate on how they weren’t that big on her. He’s not much taller than her, and he knows part of that even is the heeled boots he’s wearing.

“Well, thanks. It’s better than walking around in that nightgown the rest-” Dean’s nodding, about to say something extremely awkward like ‘Yeah, nightgowns are a bitch,’ when he finally looks at what she’s staring at, spattered on the floor of the bunker. “That’s blood.”

“Yeah.” Dean’s heart leaps into his throat, but he goes into autopilot before he can think about freaking out. He takes his gun out from his pants and cocks it, clearing the immediate area. A blurred sigil on the wall puts another bolt of fear through his chest. “Sammy? Cas?” He winces at how high his voice goes.

He takes the Map Table’s gun out from its hiding place and hands it to Mary. She was a hunter too, and he’s not about to leave her unarmed to clear the place. “Take this. Stay here.” Dean takes off immediately. It isn’t until he’s moving on to check the kitchen that he hears the voice. Mary’s clear as a bell, saying,

“Hands, now,”

Dean’s in the room before he can think about it. His heart practically comes undone when he sees that dumb familiar trench coat. He puts his body between Cas and his mom’s gun immediately, hoping she will trust him enough not to shoot through him. “Whoa, whoa, whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa! It’s okay, it’s okay. He’s a friend, all right?” He meets Cas��s eyes and sees the utter relief in his eyes, and a surge of warmth fills his chest. “Hey, Cas.”

It’s a lackluster greeting when they both thought they’d never see each other again, and Cas shows it when he steps forward quickly and pulls Dean into a tight hug. “Dean!”

Dean grins and pats his back. “Hey, okay. All right,” He comforts him quietly.

“Dean, you’re alive?” Cas pulls away and looks him over, like he’s afraid Dean might disappear. Dean nods, understanding; he had done the same thing to Mary, after all.

“Yeah.”

“What about the bomb and the Darkness? What happened?”

“I’ll tell you everything. Where is Sam?”

“He’s not here.” Obviously. Dean could smack him, but his face wants to break into a fond smile instead. He represses both urges.

“Are you a hunter?”

“No, I’m an angel.”

“He’s an angel.” Dean says over Cas. They look at each other and then back at Mary.

“Come again?”

“An angel, with a capital A,” Dean clarifies. He feels, ridiculously, a little bit like he’s showing off. Showing Cas off. “You know, wings, harp.”

“No, I don’t have a harp.”

Dean laughs. “This is Castiel. Cas, this is… Mary. Winchester.”

------------------------------------------------------

“It’s been kinda weird, here. You know, with mom being back?” And learning that her baby girl is now a full grown man? “It’s like we don’t know how to act around each other, so we just kinda make this small talk, and act like it’s normal, but it’s- it’s so not normal.” Dean can hear the pleading in his voice.

“What has she said to you?” Cas asks quickly. Dean bites his lip to hide the smile he’s trying to get from hearing Cas get all angry and protective on his behalf. He’s reminded of the time Cas looked him directly in the face and said, ‘Dean Winchester, if anyone is ever transphobic to you, I will smite them immediately and without any remorse.’ And before Dean could make a quip about internalized transphobia, Cas added, ‘Do not make me do that to you.’

“Well, nothing. That’s- that’s the whole point.” It’s the kind of thing most people usually wanna go over, what the fuck gender their kid is? He’s pretty sure no news does not mean good news in this context.

“Okay, what have you said to her?”

“Well, nothing. I’m- I don’t know what to say to her, y’know? It’s like it’s all too much, and I don’t wanna overwhelm her.”

“Dean, your identity is not ‘too much.’” Cas says immediately. Dean sighs. That wasn’t what he meant, even though he has said something similar before. Something when he was lonely and sad and feeling like explaining his dick to a one night stand was too complicated for him to do to even assuage it that way.

“No- I know. It’s not that. It’s… everything.”

Now it’s Cas’s turn to sigh. “Don’t make things unnecessarily complicated, as you humans tend to do. I’ll call you.” He hangs up.

Dean lets the phone fall with his arm limp to his side. “Yeah. Great. That’s helpful.” He says to the empty air. “That’s helpful.” Asshole.

-------------------------------------------------------

They’re in the car, and Dean is driving, and there is too much going on. He’s not sure whether he’s happy that Cas is in the backseat for this conversation or not. “So you’re… my Deanna.”

Dean’s hands tighten on the wheel. He looks at them and ignores the voice in his head that says they are petite. Womanly. “Uh, yeah. I was born Deanna Jane Winchester.” He clears his throat and meets Cas’s eyes in the rearview. He gives him a little nod, and Dean continues. “I’m… It’s called trans.”

Dean risks a look over at Mary, and she’s playing with her ring. “So you… wanted to be a boy.”

Dean clears his throat again. He’s pretty sure he does it every time before he talks, and he’s also pretty sure his voice gets lower every time he talks, too. He swears it’s an automatic reflex.

“Dean’s soul is- that of a human man.” Cas interrupts, saying it like that clarifies things. The corner of Dean’s mouth tilts up a little bit. Cas did tell him that he could see his soul, and also told him that it was, and he quotes ‘A color more similar to that of a men than women.’ Which, yeah, that tracks. He guesses Cas leaves off the ‘more similar’ part to make things simpler for Mary.

“And so you…” Mary trails off, a finger pointing toward his chest aborting its mission when she realizes it might be rude.

Dean raises an eyebrow with amusement. “Cut my tits off? Yeah.” He takes a hand off the wheel to raise his shirt, proudly showing off his top surgery scars. Mary trails a hand along them, feeling the raised skin. “After Sammy went to college. It was a bitch of a few weeks, but it was worth it.”

Mary takes her hand away and nods, brows furrowed like she’s trying to wrap her head around it. Dean grins. The grin freezes awkwardly, the edges tilting down, when Mary opens her mouth again. “So you have a-”

Cas coughs loudly in the back seat. Dean meets his wide eyes with a similar expression, and Mary cuts off the question, catching onto the fact she said something wrong. “Don’t think we really need to go there, do we, mom?”

That was a question for him and whatever lucky son of a bitch (gender neutral) ended up in his bed at the end of the night. “Right.” Mary says quickly. She turns her whole body then, asking, “Is that why you like men?”

Dean only swerves a little, he swears. The car coming the opposite direction doesn’t seem to agree, holding its horn long and hard. Luckily, it gives him a moment to stutter less obviously.

“Sorry, I just meant- since you two are-” Mary gestures between Cas and Dean, and Dean blinks his eyes solidly, trying to convince himself this is really happening.

“No! I mean, we-” Dean doesn’t have the balls (hehe) to look at Cas in the back seat, but he can see the trench coat shifting out of his peripheral. “I’m not-”

“Was John okay with this?”

Dean laughs. It comes out bitter and dark. “Dad didn’t much give a fuck what I did with my body. He’d given up on grandkids about the time he saw how decent I was at hunting, so my long hair wasn’t a personal loss.” He knew I wasn’t gonna live long enough to give him grandkids, not without some self-sacrifice on John’s part.

Mary looks a little shocked at his outburst, and Dean almost feels bad for being so blunt and crass. But then he remembers growing up with John as his male role model, and he tightens his jaw. No, the bluntness and crassness was accurate. “Oh.”

“... Yeah.” Dean bites his lip and risks another glance at his mom.

“So, you’re okay with this?” He waves a hand at himself. Asking if she was okay with him was just too pathetic, even for him. She looks at him uncertainly, a frown he recognizes as his own on her face.

“I don’t think I’m okay with any of this, Dean. But… I guess I’ll adjust.”

#tw: dysphoria #trans dean #destiel #deancas #ftm dean #transmasc dean #fanfic #dean is trans #my writing #mine

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findingjoynweirdstuff · 3 years

Text

Sam and Quackity’s Conversation

Quackity: “I’ve been thinking, Sam. This town needs a little bit of a distraction. This fucking SMP -- it’s war after war, it’s fucking disc after disc, and I’m fucking sick of it, Sam, I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all. I actually really hate it -- Sam, listen. Listen, Sam...I’ve been thinking, right?

I took a trip. I took a little trip this past week. I was traveling around the lands. And...very, very far away...I stumbled upon an interesting concept. I met up with this one villager. This one villager was trading shit with me. He had something I wanted, this villager...and I wanted to buy this book, Sam, and I couldn’t! Because I needed fucking emeralds!”

Sam: “Quackity, you are gonna be so excited to hear about my project right now. You know what I’m doing right now? You’re not gonna believe this -- I’m building a bank! A bank, yeah! Where you can get cash, and buy things with cash instead of emeralds! Yeah, like a proper bank, where you can come, hand in your resources, I give you cash vouchers which are backed up by the bank, and you get to go spend your cash. We’re making an economy, yeah! It’s gonna be great, isn’t it?”

Quackity: “So you’re actually gonna build a fucking economy? ...Sam, come down here with me.”

...

Quackity: “There’s an issue, Sam. People on this server are very responsible, you know? They’re too fucking responsible. I’ve seen you with that Netherite chestplate for the past five months...people die and they immediately scour to pick their items back up. People are goddamn responsible, and I don’t like that shit! How is an economy going to work if people are responsible, Sam?”

Sam: “How are we gonna make people unresponsible, though?”

Quackity: “Sam, Sam...you build a bank, and I build the entertainment. Lemme tell you what I mean...You want capitalism? You want complete control over the economy on the server?”

Sam: “I do. I actually do really want that, yeah.”

Quackity: “I’ve been traveling, I’ve been trading, I’ve been learning a lot about money, Sam...no, Sam, I want to build the whole goddamn Vegas, Sam! I wanna build multiple casinos. I want to build entertainment, I want people to spend their fucking money, Sam...you create the banks, I create the means of wasting that money, Sam.

They go and ask for more loans, they get addicted to gambling, before you know it we fucking own the server.

You know what the problem is? And the concepts I was giving you about people’s personal items getting held over their head by Dream...You know why I talked about that? Because if we have money, and we control the economy, Sam...then...

We control everything.

So what, someone’s fucking animal gets killed, or kidnapped? We just buy another one.”

Sam: “We could buy a better one.”

Quackity: “So what Skeppy gets kidnapped, you can buy another Skeppy! Money is...money is everything, Sam. We control that side of things...?”

Sam: “We control the world, Big Q.”

Quackity: “Yes, Sam, yes!”

Sam: “Wait, Big Q...this seems sort of illegal, though.”

Quackity: “WHO FUCKING CARES? There’s no laws!

Sam: “--You’re right! We can make so much money!”

Quackity: “--Did you see what that goddamn green bitch did? Did you see what that fucking guy did? He fucked shit up, that’s what he did! Listen, I had a conversation with Ranboo a while ago. And I told Ranboo, I wanna take down Dream, I wanna destroy him, and Ranboo said, ‘No, Big Q! We have to gather everyone together and everyone attack him at once.’ And I told him no! No...the only way we can take him down is through politics. It’s through having an organization, having a structure...”

...

Quackity: “Before you know it, people will be taking out loans, they’ll be taking out everything. I don’t wanna hurt the society, Sam, I’m just offering...a means of enjoyment! That’s all I’m offering. Sam, listen to me. If we control the banks, and we control the money, that is all we need. That is all we need.”

...

Quackity: “And they loan in their houses, their personal shit, you know what Dream did his thing about --”

Sam: “What if Bad -- what if Bad loaned in Skeppy? We could control everything!”

...

Quackity: “You know how Rome succeeded back in the day, Sam? If you give people bread and circus, they’ll be content forever. Everyone’s sad -- people are happy because Dream’s locked up, but everyone is like, lost, you know? No one’s really up to anything.”

...

Quackity: “...How does thirty percent sound, Sam?”

#dream smp #dream smp transriptions #awesamdude #quackity

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tendous-socks · 3 years

Text

do you know, the muffin man?

platonic baji and chifuyu x reader

title has nothing to do with the actual plot lol

not proof read

saber is my dog who passed when i was little and i missed him.

idk what's going on with the capitalization,

a warm up of sorts ;)

“That's what a mommy’s boy would say” “Hey”

It was summer nights like these you'd never forget.

The crisp air that danced in your lungs when you took a deep, filling breath. Or the gathering of stars overhead that watched you as you made your way home. like your own personal guardian angels.

Lights flickered off one by one as the night grew older and the street lamps stood proudly in their stead. It was nights like these that made you feel at ease. So much so that you felt that saber, your fat, lovable mush of a dog would just love to go on a midnight walk.

Although midnight was… less than ideal, you didn't plan to stay so late at cram school, the janitor nearly kicked you out himself when he saw you so absorbed in your homework. the furrowed look etched upon his face when he asked why you were doing all that on a friday evening, when you should be home with your family, or out doing illegal things with your friends.

You gripped the straps on your backpack just tighter just thinking about it.

you'll just have to stay up and finish it later then, after talking your beloved golden out for his much deserved walk.

Rounding the corner, you spotted your apartment complex as it stood tall amongst the houses surrounding it. Almost out of place.

The lights illuminating the road almost like a pathway home as you continued on. Your silent footsteps duetting the chirping of cicadas.

Pesky little things liked to choir all night singing melodies of long before as they woke up from their decades of slumber.

my god you couldn't get home fast enough.

which wouldn't be a problem if you didn't hear an excruciatingly loud cackle from your complex.

and due to the light of the street lamps, if you could squint hard enough you could see the silhouettes of two people sitting on the stairs that allowed you to go up…

damn it

this was gonna be weird

as silent as a church mouse, you trudged your way over to them. Thoughts a second as you scratched your brain for something to say

something that you wont wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat regretting saying.

“uhm excuse me… i need to get up there so, yeah” you said, knuckles white as you felt your body heat up.

You didn't bother to catch a full glance at them, only noting their black uniforms and that one had long, black hair and another had a yellow undercut.

“Oh yeah sure! Sorry about that..” You chuckled nervously as the yellow one scooched over a bit allowing you to squeeze your way up

“Yeah no problem”

Taking the first few steps up, making sure not the disturb the two, you debated neither sprinting up or just quietly walking. Of course all plans were thrown out the window when another, raspier voice asked “why’re you out so late? “

Your foot stopped almost immediately.

What?

You gulped thickly. “ oh, no reason, i just had cram school and lost track of the time ya’ know?” No of course they don't know because they obviously don't go to your cram school !

Almost as if he had an epiphany, the longer haired boy shot up like a rocket as he turned to fully face you.

“ wait a minute- that means you're smart right?”

“Baji no-” “ hey you mind helping us with our midterms? I don't wanna fail them and make my mom cry again, wouldn't be right”

“Oi baji! Who said I needed help? I'm the one who's tutoring you!” the blondie argued back, voices echoing up around and through the staircase as you finally looked at the two of them.

chifuyu , who you now recognize as a delinquent and baji… who you've never seen in your life both apparently went to your school as you faintly recalled a morning announcement of both their names being called and summoned to the principal's office.

As well as the rumors that surrounded them both as you remembered the whispers upon whispers of gossip dripping from your friends mouth like sugar coated honey, too tempting not to take a bite out of.

All in all, they were trouble.

“Uh haha yeah, I'm sorry. I don't think I'll be of any use to you since I'm not the brightest of people, I'm sorry I have to go, have a good night though.”

And like cinderella you dashed off up stairs. Not even bothering to look back or hide your footsteps as you heard baji call and complain for you to come back and how chifuyu ruined his chances of passing his terms.

but of course, you were back downstairs… not exactly downstairs as you were on one of the landings that separated the floors, the soft fluff of sabers tail wagging excitedly as you held onto his blue, rope leash as you stared down the stairs wondering why exactly the two of them were still. here.

You groaned internally as you took a step back, pulling lightly on his leash as you went to go back down the hall and into the safety of your apartment. Already thinking of excuses to tell your mom why you didn't take your baby for his daily walk.

Plop

….

You tugged on the leash a little harder, only to no avail as your lab stared up at you with a little smile..

This son of a bitch.

“C'mon saber lets go, I promise I'll take you on two walks tomorrow, so please let's just go” you whined, crouching down next to him as you went to softly push at his side.

But like the anchor he is, he didn't budge.

“Please saber c’mon i wanna go home now lets go you fat little man” you moaned as you stole a glance towards the stairs, hoping to god you didn't alert the two.

But alas, you were met with a pair of blue and golden eyes staring at you curiously. Though the curiosity in their eyes didn’t overshadow the way they loomed over you and you little man, both of them blocking any whisper of light that tried to escape through as it haloed blindingly around them.

‘ oh it’s you- i didn't know you had a dog” baji said as a smile grew on his face as he slowly knelt down as your dog’s tail quickly went to whipping your side as you just gawked at him.

“Oi baji, you have to ask to pet him, er her. ``Chifuyu went to look at you, eyebrows raised as his friend simply ignored him and continued caressing your dog.

“do they bite?” was the only response you got from the black haired boy, his eyes meeting yours briefly as his smile stood pride on his beaming face.

“I do well, I guess it's fine. Don't worry about it, Saber, he’s really friendly and loves people, so he won't bite '' you spoke as chifuyu hesitantly went to start touching his golden fur, the dim midnight lighting doing him zero justice.

Though when you were nestled in your bed with your big ol’ security guard crushing your feet to the point where they'd both turn shades of blue and purples, you could really see how vibrant and golden his fur really was.

Smiling softly as the saber excitedly sniffed baji’s hand as the latter held a smile as big as the sun and eyes creased like a young boy who just got his favorite candy.

you noted how his other hand was scratching exactly where you knew your dog was ticklish, his leg going to scratch the same spot as he let out a low chuckle.

Quietly looking at chifuyu, you saw him quite engrossed in what baji was doing as he stared at where your dog was battling baji’s hand for scratching rights.

“ You really love him, yeah?”

“Hm? Pardon?”

“You’re dog…” “Saber”

“Yep. i can see it all over your face and his body that you spoil him like a little rich kid”

You laughed at his little comment as you went to play with his floppy ears “yep/ he’s my little spoiled brat who loves food and cuddles and will absolutely die if you don't take him on a walk or two during that day”

“ sorry about earlier, baji is just very… passionate about his grades” “ oh is that so?”

“ yeah, that and he doesn't want his mom to be upset about him being held back… again” With a light squeeze to the saber's ear, you took a risk as you opened your mouth.

“Oh, so he's a mama’s boy then?” “Exactly” “Hey I'm not! “

You and Chifuyu looked at each other and hummed in agreement.

#Tokyo Revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers baji #tokyo revengers chifuyu #chifuyu x reader #baji x reader #tokyo revengers manga #toky revengers anime

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skelanonymous · 3 years

Text

First - Killermare

Words - 3.1k

I decided I needed more happy Killermare, even though I’ve literally written a ton of it. I should write literally anybody else next…>_>

Killer entered into the kitchen with a tense back, casually perusing the fridge with a wince. He’d taken a hard hit on the side during the last fight with the Stars. Probably cracked something, but nothing was falling off so he didn’t bother too much with it. His determination would hold him together.

He grabbed the carton of milk and took a swig straight from the container.

“Other people use that you know.”

“Too bad for them.” Killer turned around to grin at Nightmare. He’d recently gotten into his Boss’s VERY good graces and no broken bones were going to keep him out of it. “Well if it isn’t small, dark, and Lovecraftian.” That got a chuckle, a rare thing to hear from Nightmare. It made his target soul ache something awful, hearing that cute sound and not being able to do anything with it, not nearly close enough to Nightmare to capitalize on the opportunity.

“As good with words as with a knife, hmmm?” Nightmare stood in his space, touching along his arm unconsciously. Killer tried to keep his mouth in check.

“I’m also pretty good with my hands.” God damn idiot brain, hitting on his fucking god level boss. There’s fucking with people and there’s shooting out of your league. He just smiled through it. “Whatcha need Boss?”

“I’m moving a wing of the library and needed an extra pair of hands.”

“And you knew how talented mine were, so you came right to me?” Killer slid the milk back into the refrigerator. He leaned back on his left side to keep from agitating the right, elbows on the counter, a picture of relaxation.

“Something like that.” Nightmare laughed again. Killer held in the pleased sigh, standing up, crossing his arms behind his head very delicately.

“I’m all yours Boss. Lead the way.”

They wandered down the hall directly towards the library, Killer keeping step just behind Nightmare, letting him stare all he wanted without being caught. Those strong thick tentacles swayed around his back, framing his ass for Killer to appreciate along the lengthy hallways. He rarely went over this way unless Night summoned him here.

Nightmare already cleared small sections away, stacks of meticulously organized books littering the floor. He gestured to a pile.

“Start here and work clockwise. I’ve laid it out to make it easy enough for you to do without me babysitting your progress.”

So began replacing them on the shelves. Killer hid the winces of pain from stooping and bending fairly well, silently moving until he hit a tiny snag. He reached up to place one on a tall shelf when he flinched into the wall.

His body hit the shelves and dislodged an avalanche onto his head. He almost moved away before one smashed into his cracked ribs.

"Son of a fucking bitch!

"Killer!" Nightmare raced over to unbury him. The tentacles made quick work of them, stacking haphazardly off of Killer’s winded form. His hands were on Killer’s forehead in an instant, checking for cracks, diligently looking over him after hearing the cry of pain. Killer groaned angrily when he was cleared off.

“Fucking Blue and his fucking blue attacks. Ugh.” Killer couldn’t sit up, pain still blossoming fresh in his chest. Night paused in looking him over.

“Were you wounded on the last mission?” His single eye penetrated his two, pinning him under it until he relented, grimacing with a gesture to his ribs he’d been carefully avoiding.

“Yeah. Stars got a good hit in on me. Was fine until the book hit it though.”

“Clearly not, considering you lost your usually impeccable balance!” Nightmare’s tentacles wrapped Killer up to get him standing without making him bend the wounded area. “Come with me. Healing magic is easiest when accompanied by intent, wrapping it will make it easier.” He grumbled and took off towards his room, Killer hobbling after to keep up.

Walking into Night’s room changed the mood. He suddenly felt out of place, surrounded by luxurious purples tones and dark wooden furniture. Night had gestured to the bed before wandering into his private bathroom.

His bed was comfortable. Killer’s nerves ruined any enjoyment of getting into Nightmare’s room, jittery from the moment he was directed to sit on the plush comforters. Nightmare returned with a roll of bandages and an unimpressed look.

“I thought you were smart enough to know how to care for yourself.” He moved in front of him. “Take off your jacket and t-shirt.”

Thankfully Night was too focused on unraveling the bandages and gathering antiseptic to see Killer’s face go red, suddenly very aware that he was in his boss’s room, said boss’s hands about to be on him after a request to undress. He pulled them off smooth and casual, but his grin practically cracked at the edges.

“What the hell?”

Night’s hands hovered over the cracked ribs, flinching back at the small break that Killer had dislodged from its setting.

“Yeah, it’s not great.”

“Killer!” Night growled at him. “Why didn’t you seek treatment before THIS?!” He gestured to the crumbled ends of the break from grinding against each other. “This is entirely fucking curable! It’s ridiculous you didn’t, at the very least, wrap this!” The growl travelled up his body, baring his teeth at him, tentacles cracking like whips at his back. Killer didn’t move, but his voice took on a nervous edge.

“I’m a dead man walking boss. I’ll just keep going forward until I can’t anymore.” Healing magic was taxing. All of them were terrible at it besides Nightmare, who never offered, only taking over when he was clearly needed. They never want to bother him to ask for it.

“I could’ve fixed this sooner.” Nightmare pinched the bone into place with a click. Killer gasped in pain. He wrapped it tightly, uncaring about Killer’s harsh pants while doing so.

“We only take it when you offer. None of us wanna annoy you.” Fuck, he was so falling out of Night’s good graces for this. After he worked so hard, some dumb break was gunna take him back to zero. He fisted the plush comforter. “Your time is important.”

“To whom, when you dust from accumulating injuries that I can’t see?”

“The multiverse I guess.”

“The multiverse doesn’t give a shit about me or my time. This is all I have.” Nightmare pinched his nasal crest after finishing. “You serve me, but I cannot do this alone. Your lives are valuable to me. I thought you, especially, would know this Killer."

"Why do ya say that?"

"Because of how important you are to me." Nightmare's hands grew warm with gathering magic, mending now that everything would heal correctly. "All of you are valuable, like the supporting beams holding the castle aloft, but you are more integral. You are the center pillar. As my right hand, as long as you stand, I have faith in my ability to recover. I believed you to be my most valuable asset, but if you’re going to just let yourself turn to dust, then I’ll-”

“No!” Killer’s soul snapped into a heart shape, eyelights flickering in time to meet Night’s inquisitive gaze. “I’m not dusting on you just like that.” He grabbed Night’s warm hands away, taking them up in front of his startled cyan face.

“K-Killer?” He brought them up and kissed the phalanges as one would do to their king.

“If you’ll continue as long as I am by your side, then I’ll remain with you until I die.” Killer’s sockets went half-lidded, struck by the emotion his inverted soul let in, his silly crush amplified ten-fold by Nightmare’s faith in him. He’d never seen his boss look so confused, eye wide and frantically searching Killer’s. “What’s wrong boss?”

“You-I’m...what’s-why all-”Killer’s hands had long since gained a mind of their own. He slid wordlessy off the bed into Night’s space, silencing him with a casual touch on the cheek, fondly caressing the bright greenish glow.

“Shouldn’t have told me I meant so much to ya cuz I’m gunna take that to heart.” Then he swooped down to kiss him.

Killer pressed their teeth together firmly, tilting their heads to line up for deepening the kiss. He relaxed into it, holding Nightmare close while getting a taste, slowly touching and teasing Night's tongue with playful flicks. He could feel the very hesitant kiss back before they parted for air.

"Feeling shy Nightmare? Don't worry. I'm bold enough for the both of us."

Killer laughed into the next one, leaning into it to force Night's response, groaning at the feel of the shy tongue in his own mouth. He could feel his small partner shaking in his arms when they broke apart.

"Killer…" It must've been awhile since Nightmare got with anyone to sound so needy.

"I'm here. Wanna have some fun Nightmare?" He whispered it into Night's ear, smiling at the trembling he could still feel against his ribs, lost in the heady feeling. Night devolved to breathy pants, which Killer dove into before he felt tentacles lay solidly against his chest to push him back.

"Killer, wait, I can't-I'm not prepared for this." Night's flushed face told a different story, but he didn't fancy being killed.

"I've got lots of patience. I'll just make you feel good until you are." Killer's mouth slid down to Night’s neck, sucking on the bone to the high pitched whines, sending all his thoughts south, ecto eager to form at the slightest provocation. His haze broke under the Night's firm push out of his space.

"Killer, stop."

His back connected with the bed, wincing from his still (though much less so) wounded bones. The rejection stung worse.

"Sorry boss." That HURT, knowing he'd fucked up pretty royally. God, he'd forced himself on Nightmare right after he'd been given a shred of attention. He was such a fucking idiot. "I'll keep my hands to myself." His eyelights poofed decisively. He almost couldn't bear to look at him, but he needed to see Nightmare's face at least once.

Night hadn't stopped shaking. His tentacles attempted to hide him from view, face fully blushing, head still tilted away from the fresh mark Killer had left, noises leaking unfiltered from his trembling body.

"S-s-sorry. I-I c-can't handle it-t. Too much." Killer grabbed his shirt and hoodie from where it lay beside him.

"I'll leave you be. Maybe annoy Horror or something, I don't know." Anything to not be here. Playing it off would make it easier to take, even if it meant no second chances with Night. He slid his clothes back on. "Come find me when you got the next mission lined up."

A tentacle wrapped around his ankle before he took the first step.

"Why are you leaving?" His voice was airy, light, breathless.

"I'm a dick, but not that much of one. I went too far, I'll give ya some space for a day." He shrugged, a drop of hate splashing on the floor. He'd describe his emotions as 'in shambles.'

"I don't want space. I just need a minute."

"I don't know Boss. Shouldn't rush that kind of thing." He could stomach taking advantage of people outside of this castle, but betraying the ones inside it, those who guarded his back and knew where he slept (and cared about but he'd never tell them that), it turned his mood sour. It ate at the pit of his stomach and it’d eat through him entirely if he didn’t get the fuck outta dodge.

"What thing?"

"Being assaulted, harassed, whatever you wanna call it. And being the person who forced themselves upon ya, don't think I should be here." He tugged at his ankle again, but Night hadn't relented.

"Killer, I didn't stop you because I didn't want it." He avoided Killer's eye roll.

"Uh-huh." Killer really didn't want to resort to cutting off the tentacle. It wouldn't hurt him, but it'd suck and prove he was an asshole, so he pulled harder. "Say I believed you. Then why?"

"Killer, I…" Nightmare looked like he wanted the carpet to swallow him. "I've never kissed anyone."

"...What?" He stopped struggling against his restraint. "There's no way. You're telling me, five hundred years of existing, and you hadn’t had your first kiss?"

"Yes." And Killer commited a cardinal sin without thinking.

"But Dream definit-" Is fucking Ink or Blue or Cross or all of them, he wanted to say, but Night was quicker.

"I am aware." Nightmare's glare was potent, but Killer's confusion was denser. "But he is lovable, unlike me."

"You're lovable." It slipped out in-between all the mental gymnastics. He wasn't sure he wasn't being fucked with still. "So you haven't…" How to phrase this delicately, he wondered. "...slept with anyone?"

"Killer, I haven't kissed anyone. Why the fuck would I have slept with someone?"

"You gotta know how unbelievable this is." Talking wouldn't reassure him, so Killer leaned down into Night's space again, stopping just shy of his teeth. "You're telling me that someone as fuckable as you's been ignored all this time?" Nightmare's single eye widened with the flush. Killer smoothed out his tone, dropping it low to hold him at the edge of his words. "Nice juicy peach you are, no one's tried to pluck you up? I can barely look without salivatin'." He lapped at his teeth, careful to keep his hands in safe places. He wanted to see how inexperienced Night really was without ruining his chances forever.

Nightmare's tentacles laid limp behind him, all the tremors coming from his real form, whose hands had raised to snatch at the shoulders of his hoodie, gripping tightly when he caved under the languid licks at his mouth by letting Killer in.

Patience led this one, Killer carefully taking over every inch of Night's mouth. The slower pace served to work up his partner faster. Nightmare's calmness abated, tentacles waking up to come and clutch at Killer's form, Night crawling onto him, transforming the kiss into a frenzy of desire that Killer surrendered to, as long as Night was leading the way. The tentacles touched plenty of hot spots, but he kept his own hands on innocent ground. Night's confidence could crumble under too much of a good thing.

"Take a breath, Nightlight." Night shivered against him after breaking apart, so much sensation his body was unaccustomed to. "I gotcha." Killer rubbed soothing circles into his back.

"I can see how that could escalate." Nightmare finally got out. It made him laugh.

"Yeah. It's pretty easy to get carried away." He kissed the top of his skull before laughing again. "You give handsy a whole new meaning though."

"Sorry." The sweet little monster in his arms barely resembled his boss, hiding his face by burrowing into Killer's chest.

"Don't be. It's pretty hot." His lewd grin made Night blush again.

"I would've thought my corruption would be the ugliest and most disgusting part of me." He punctuated it with said appendages undulating behind him.

"Boss, I just kissed the fuck outta you and I've never known you without it. Trust me, not a deterrent." Killer stroked down one to make Night's spine curl. "If you learn how to use ‘em right, they're pretty useful in the bedroom."

"Don't call me Boss when we're like this." Night whispered softly. His face caught between a glare and something soft, he was starting to come back to his senses.

"That might be too much power Nightlight." He grinned at the tiny glare. "How was your first kiss then?"

"Nice." Nightmare sighed as he sat up, unfurling all the aching limbs. The usual persona rebuilt itself. But now, Killer knew how easy the composure was to break. "I'd like to repeat it sometime."

"I'm all yours." He'd never get sick of that face if Night was willing to let him see it. They rose together from the floor, Night reestablishing the space between them.

"I'll have to talk to the others about not bringing injuries to me. Time spent on them is not time wasted." He straightened his sweater, presentable before opening the door. Killer choked the urge down to mess it up again. “The idea that you would’ve rather lost a rib than speak to me is absurd.”

"Yeah." They better not take his catch. Fuck them.

"I'm not going to kiss them Killer. The sour look is atrocious on you." Night's brow raised. Caught red handed. Killer laughed.

"Can you blame me? I know the kind of filthy degenerates who live here; I'm one of them. I don't want 'em to take a bite outta you." Subconsciously, he shook his sleeves to feel the weight of his multiple blades.

"You act as though there are many vying for my affection. People used to throw rocks at me for walking by their homes, and now they try to kill me. I'm not surrounded by suitors." He said this while walking down the hall towards the still upturned library. His strides were confident, power inherent is his manner, carried with a royal grace that Killer could only ape with minimal success. The only reason he wasn't swamped with competition was everyone had been too chickenshit to make a move.

"Ya also thought I wasn't interested and nothing has ever been less fucking true." He pushed his luck a little further, stepping in front of Nightmare to kiss him quickly. The chaste thing was almost too much considering the shakes. "I'll just keep doing it if ya don't say anything."

“We need to reassemble the library.” He huffed through, walking by with weak knees, Killer trailing just behind. “This wasn’t an invitation to touch me at all times.”

“Only some of the time then?”

“Shut up.” He humored the request once inside Night’s treasured library.

Back to quietly organizing, clockwise, his talented hands flipped them onto shelves with ease now that he wasn’t hindered by aches. It was quick and effortless like it should have been the first time. He’d begun humming by the time he placed the last one, not expecting the hand on his shoulder but welcoming it as he had earlier the same day. Night silently pressed something into his palm.

“I trust I don’t need to explain.” Killer’s fingers closed over the silver key, smiling and spinning it on his pointer while leaving the now neat library. Guess his league was a lot wider than he thought. It wasn’t an invitation to his bed, but the invitation to his heart was just as good.

“Gotcha loud and clear boss. See ya soon.”

They CUTE.

#story time #killermare #nightkiller #first kiss uwu #I got lots of feels

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