#yeah he's gonna be played by Jon Snow

[darkmajesty-xo]

Ready Player 1 ? - Shigaraki x reader

18+ MDNI | masturbation, praise , video chats, crack-humor

most would consider it unwise for a girl like you to be in these chat rooms due to the questionable discourse and rather infamous patrons, but girls just wanna have fun right ?

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: saw an old couple today, could be me and shig but he’s playing ☹️

user2345: i think you mean planning* as in planning world domination and torment of quirkless losers like you.

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: oh sweetheart you’ll never get any pussy if you keep acting like one

user3333: damn bro, you gonna take that ?

user2345: who gives a shit about some villain groupie ?

user2345: she keeps her mouth so full of cum that it’s starting to affect her whore brain.

user2345: do you really think the true leader of the new world would make time for some dumb cunt like you ?

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: there’s probably a higher chance of tomura shigaraki and i living happily ever after than there is of ANY woman even looking in your direction.

this was a normal friday night, you simping over shigaraki in the forums and clapping back at the misogynistic incels that hid behind their keyboards in their mothers’ basements. but there was one guy that always stood up for you whenever the idiots got too out of hand. he was also a moderator so he had no problems blocking them.

the two of you would dm off and on about life , thoughts on hero society, hobbies , etc. from your chats you gathered that he didn’t walk that straight and narrow but that didn’t mean much to you. he would sometimes tease your about your crush on shigaraki and your general taste in men.

finalboss: honestly, what kind of girl likes a criminal?; who knows what kind of twisted shit the guys into— you’re not even a villain.

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: you know nothing jon snow

finalboss: that reference just confirmed btw

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: i’ll have you know that my beloved is a certified otaku fantasy nerd.

finalboss: oh yeah ? and how’d you obtain such info ?

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: i run 3 stan accounts on twitter and i belong to a shiggy fan club 🥹

finalboss: 😃

finalboss: seek help

finalboss: 😃

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: you wound me ☹️

finalboss: i’ll just leave that too your Prince Charming lol

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: oh lord , did you see the footage of his latest attack ?

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: he was dressed like a whoreee 😩😩

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: tits just out for my viewing pleasure

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: shigaraki is my shepherd, he know what i want.

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: wanna suck on those sugar nips and call him mommy

finalboss: you get weirder and weirder every time we chat

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: that means we’re becoming besties ㅤ♡ ︎

finalboss: ♡ ︎

it was nice having someone to talk to about your secret obsession, it’s not like your “real life” friends would understand. the two of you had carved out your own little piece of the internet to goof around in. he never disclosed much information about himself and typically kept the conversations focused on you, but you still felt an undeniable bond to this faceless stranger.

then he ghosted you.

weeks went by without a word from your friend. he no longer defended you in the forums and he didn’t respond to any of your dms. you’d started to get worried that he may have been arrested or worse. and at the three month mark you’d finally given up hope that you’d ever hear from your friend again. but then the unexpected happened.

finalboss is requesting to video chat.

this was completely out of character but after months with no word, you were desperate to hear from your friend.

you were prepared to chew him him out for abandoning you. thinking of all the ways you could insult him while simultaneously expressing your need for his comfort and company. but your mind went blank when the grainy screen loaded into the pixelated image of your companion.

whispy tendrils fell from his bun, framing the sculpted planes of his handsome face. his lips were dry, slightly chapped, with the only lubrication being the sheen of saliva left by the slow drag of his tongue. bloodied eyes bore into your own leaving you breathless and dazed.

“hey bestie”

his voice was low and raspy, almost like a whisper. a deep rumbling that echoed in your ear drums. it was oddly hypnotic. he was absolutely mesmerizing.

tomura chuckled into the camera, showing flashes of perfectly white teeth. he leans back into the chair, a hand on the back of his neck showcasing a broad chest and toned abs.

“didn’t expect you to be this quiet, bestie. is my outfit not slutty enough for you ? i could always take these off…” his hand fell from his neck to rest and the waistband of his black jeans.

you remained speechless, eyes glued to the light dusting of hair below his belly button.

more laughter and shifting. now you were met with the glorious girth of shigaraki’s cock clenched tightly in his fist. the darkened tip oozed a sparkling trail of pre that spilled down his length. his thumb swiped the fluid to spread over his veiny member.

“c’mon , doll. don’t leave me hanging” he teased, squeezing his fist upwards to produce more pre. “i thought you wanted to be my ‘mc’ ? seems more like an npc if you ask me”.

“y-you’re him” you stammered, eyes following the slow drag of his fist. “you’re tomura shigaraki”.

“in the flesh” he teased, shooting a wink that went directly between your legs. “well kinda, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. sorry i’ve been away so long, but you’d wait forever for me won’t you , perfect girl ?”

your nod was automatic. robotic even. you’d moved closer to the screen, completely engrossed by his ministrations.

“anything for you beyon—shiggy”

you both laughed at that. he appreciated your humor, especially with all the drama in his day to day. even in def con simp mode and being ghosted didn’t stop you from being undeniably you. that’s probably why he was as obsessed with you as you were with him.

“i know we probably have alot to discuss but todays been kind of shitty and i’d really like to explore our final fantasies”.

you snorted, “that was really bad , shig”.

he shrugged, “i’m a villain, not a comedian, beloved. “now show me that perfect little pussy”.

#yandere shigaraki #shigaraki smut #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura #tenko shimura #mha shigaraki #mha smut #shigaraki x black reader #shigaraki x chubby reader #mha x blackreader #mha x chubby reader #mha crack

[jackoshadows]

I do remember that GRRM said he wants the books to have a bittersweet ending like Lord of the Rings. Okay Lord of the Rings… the only Fellowship member who died was Boromir. The reason the ending was bittersweet was because sweet: Sauron was finally defeated for good, Aragorn became King like he was born to be, the Hobbits were recognized as heroes of Middle Earth, peace was restored. But bitter: Frodo’s wound never fully healed, the Fellowship was ended and they went their separate ways, Frodo and Gandalf and Bilbo and the Elves all leave Middle Earth never to return (man Gandalf saying goodbye always makes me cry). Perfect bittersweet. Which makes me think… GRRM won’t have any of the Key Five die (Dany, Jon, Arya, Bran, and Tyrion). Sweet: They will become the heroes of the Realm as the ones who played a huge part in destroying the Others. And they’ll survive and be able to live good lives. But bitter because they’re gonna have trauma to deal with forever, many of the people they knew died, and it will be a LONG time before Westeros and Essos are back to normal. I do not know if Jon and Dany will become King and Queen like I want but that would be part of the sweet. Still if they all survive, the Key Five, that’s really all I need. And I know Jonsas won’t be stopping with their bs but I would take immense pleasure knowing that they were wrong and their dumb theories were all proven false

@whitedragonwolf4961 Sorry for replying to your ask after a looooong time!

So yeah, I personally think that the key 5 will survive. I base this off the story so far in five books and also on GRRM's leaked 1993 original outline for the story, considering he has always insisted that he is heading towards his 1991 ending.

In the leaked outline, all of the key five survive. GRRM admits to using main characters like Ned, Robb and Catelyn to get the readers thinking that anyone can die while there's a set of characters - the key 5 - who will make it through all of the OG trilogy.

And yes, what would make it bittersweet would be the deaths of loved ones, friends and family, the large scale destruction that they would need to rebuild, their ongoing trauma - they have all gone through so much in these 5 books - the sacrifices they would need to make, the compromises. In that sense it's not going to be wholly happy - they are not going to come out in the end unscathed. Jon Snow has even died and we don't even know what version is coming back!!

And remember, reform and change is a major aspect of these characters:

Five central characters will make it through all three volumes, however, growing from children to adults and CHANGING THE WORLD and themselves in the process. In a sense, my trilogy is almost a generational saga, telling the life stories of these five characters, three men and two women. The five key players are Tyrion Lannister, Daenerys Targaryen, and three of the children of Winterfell, Arya, Bran, and the bastard Jon Snow. All of them are introduced at some length in the chapters you have to hand.

The Key 5 have big political arcs, are involved in major events and are proactively in control of their own subplots in the books. The youngsters in particular - Dany, Jon, Arya and Bran - are angry about injustice and want to change how things are always done. Dany and Jon have big leadership arcs which are particularly about reforming city states and institutions. Arya's arc with the smallfolk is about her connection with them and the injustice they are facing. As Prince of Winterfell, Bran's empathy for his bastard brother Jon Snow means he signals that Lord Hornwood's bastard can be heir to the Hornwood lands.

I think that's the difference between the previous generation and the current one is that now our main characters don't look past terrible stuff happening and justify it in the name of 'I didn't know' while looking the other way or 'The oaths make it so I should let bad things happen' or 'This is how it's always been so let it happen'. They look past class and gender barriers and do things differently.

And after the Long Night, is when major reform and rebuilding needs to happen. Westeros needs leaders who are angry about what the smallfolk are experiencing, who put the people first, who have the leadership experience to rebuild and reform, in administration and politics and diplomacy, who can build bridges and enact laws - and GRRM has written all that for the key 5.

If they die at the end, then what's the point? So yes, they are very much surviving - in some form or other - though I suspect there will be a lot of sacrifice and compromise that will indeed be very bitter, precisely because good leaders/rulers care about the realm.

#ask

[bohemian-nights]

It's always interesting how as soon as black women become a love interest in a straight ship 1 of 2 things will happen.

A third thing, the double standards, an example:

Laena x Rhaenyra ship- in the books we know they were close and some fans use the phrase"more than fond of"to reinforce they were a couple(nothing against this couple it's still fiction eh)

Everything normal here.

But when we learnt more about Rhaegar and Elia and their relationship, the sentence "fond" is still used to describe their relationship and now you have people saying "oh they were just friends" "oh he didn't love her" "oh Elia will be okay with Rhaegar and Lyanna being a couple"

First at all, the racism, Dorne is not okay with adultery in marraige, they don't care if if man or woman, UNMARRIED, take a paramour,UNMARRIED; it's different for them, a different mindset

•Convenient how now when their white fave needs to be paired up with a white character(nothing against Lyanna, the girl was 14 year old)when there are POC characters that show interest in them(Elia loved Rhaegar and I can dream he loved her, why? BECAUSE I LOVE ANGST)

CONVENIENCE MY DEAR FRIEND

Read about the Sophie's actress' scandal(if you called that) -just wtf.

Also Bethany's harassment.WTF.

If they are not happy with Sophie being black, then they are free to read the books or ignore it! It's not that difficult.

Bethany is gonna slay this season, so stay mad colonizers😏

Sorry for the rant, tired of this nonsense🤣

Ps: Some people are starting shipping Dettles out of spite, for the racism's nonesense so yeah, IT'S GONNA BE A LONG YEAR HERE!!All of you are doing great sweeties🥰

Don’t apologize for ranting cause everything you said is the truth👏🏽

I hate Laenyra. People mainly hype it up to move attention away from Daemon and Laena’s marriage and center their self insert into their relationship .

Yeah it’s ironic that the same people hyping up Laryngitis and saying all those who oppose it are racistare the same people who love dunk on Elia non-stop and say that she was fine with her husband sleeping with Snow Becky because she’s dornish. The same people hyping up Jon’s parents are the same people who dunk on Dettles.

I’ll be the first one to say that I don’t give a damn about Ravioli and Snow Becky, but I’ll admit that it was GRRM’s intention to make them romantic(it’s definitely not supposed to be grooming even if I find the whole situation weird). I’ll even admit that there are plenty of similarities between Dettles and that ship, but you’d have an easier time finding a leprechauns gold than getting those people to admit the same.

Don’t get me started on the Bridgerton fandom. A bunch of ungrateful bigots who keep making demands of Shonda while at the same time degrading her and saying there are “too many Black people” on the show (and then crying when people call them out for being the anti-Black morons they are).

And I get that Masali hasn’t been officially announced as Sophie, and of course she’s not the only possibility, but she’s the only one whose name that has been circulating around that fits the casting call. Her schedule was cleared last year and she’s got no upcoming projects. She’s following multiple members of the cast and multiple members are following her back.

(Nicola, Hannah Dodd, Hannah New, Victor Ali who is suspected to be playing John, as well as one of the hairdressers who does the main casts hair to name a few. Hell, there was even one of the directors following her, but he mysteriously unfollowed her for some reason).

More importantly, no one else has produced another casting call to contradict said casting call or to show that the role she was cast for is a member of the Stirling family.

(I’m not going to get into it, but if you’re “evidence” hinges on Masali and Victor Ali looking alike please go down to Lens Crafters cause they don’t look nothing alike outside of being dark and Black. It’s fucking offensive as fuck to say they do).

And as I said in a previous ask, the Bridgerton team has cast a role with a specific race in mind cause they were looking for an Indian woman to play Kate(which is how some people figured Simone Ashley was playing Kate when most of Kates fancasts were white women👏🏽).

So the fact that you have so many people running around like a chicken with its head cut off claiming it’s impossible for Sophie to be Black, that Sophie should be x race, or just being racist jackasses is disturbing asf. You shouldn’t have to see this bullshit:

You bet your ass I took screenshots cause everybody likes to lie and hide their hands after typing out the most vile shit.

And yeah I get everyone wants representation, but people keep trying to silence and speak over Black people specifically Black women and that's where we have a problem.

Because for any other group, this behavior would be absolutely unacceptable. Especially if you are making demands that an EP not cast any more people of her race on her show, but with Black women that doesn't matter. They don’t care.

We haven’t even had a fucking fully Black female love interest get her happily ever after with a man(the people saying Masali should be a gender-bent Michael need to have several seats cause you’re creating a OC just because you don’t want to see her as Sophie) like everybody else and yet they want us to step aside and cheer them on. Fuck that.

This is why I don’t believe any of you hateful bitches when you say you care about misogynoir because the moment a Black woman is cast in a role you want, even in a role that’s meant for a Black woman like with Nettles, y’all either start demanding she be cut or made into something else.

This literally happens every single time Black female characters are involved and yet you can’t even talk about it because people want to ignore and perpetuate our oppression.

I’ll leave it there cause I’m too exhausted by all of this drama(it’s making my blood boil), but these fandoms piss me off so much. They make it hell for non-white and especially Black fans to exist within them. Even in shows created by Black people.

#bnask #bnasks #fandom drama #bncommentary #hey look we are both ranting now 🤣 #fandom misogynoir

[atopvisenyashill]

Pol!jon anon again I was thinking more of the version of pol!jon where he like forces an abortion on her and reveals that he loved Sansa all along. When I watched the show I was thinking he was attracted to Dany and wanted to be with her initially but grew more and more fearful of her and eventually did not want to be with her. So he wasn’t manipulating when the relationship started, but staying in it was a scheme. Imagine my shock when I read the script for the finale and it said that Jon loved her even after she burned KL. Bad writing and bad chemistry between actors. I can definitely imagine Jon remaining in a relationship for safety and politics as a defensive play, but the offensive angle of pol!Jon in which he initiates the relationship with no feelings or desire with the intention of killing her feels wrong especially if a forced abortion is involved

Okay I’m gonna go point by point here just for organization sake.

Pol!jon anon again I was thinking more of the version of pol!jon where he like forces an abortion on her and reveals that he loved Sansa all along.

Oh no lmao, I forgot about all the baby theories for s7 and 8 😭😭 No, I don’t think what MMD says is a prophecy at all, I think people focus on the WRONG things out of that whole scene, and while I think george is clearly cooking something re: dany’s fertility, that’s gonna be something so central to the story i don’t think anyone is gonna guess it 100% right so everyone’s guesses are weird as FUCK on this subject. but also not for nothing, i’m fairly sure the moontea theory was like one (1) person and then everyone just kept going “wow so ALL pol!jon people think he’s gonna force an abortion on dany they’re so evil” no, actually most people who thought pol jon might be real didn’t think for a second that boat baby was real lmao. it was just like a “making up a guy to get mad at” theory that got traction bc of the ship war.

i DID see some people theorize he might tell dany he’s in love with sansa but like thee Moment he had zero reaction to finding out he was Rhaegar’s child was thee MOMENT i knew we were not getting a single satisfying jon snow scene again and that whatever it is that happens in the books for him clearly went RIGHT THE FUCK OVER dumb & dumber’s heads 😭😭😭 so like, yeah i just didn’t think anything at all even a lil but juicy was gonna happen and what do you know i was pretty much correvt akskkd

i DO think there’s a high chance that threatening sansa is the most pressing reason for why jon & arya would attempt to kill her and i’ve definitely played with some gruesome theories just based on lines that i thought could be hinting at what they do but i don’t think there’s going to be any moontea drinking, forced or otherwise, involved. i certainly HOPE she’s not pregnant when/if she dies because i fucjing. hate that shit. but idk.

When I watched the show I was thinking he was attracted to Dany and wanted to be with her initially but grew more and more fearful of her and eventually did not want to be with her. So he wasn’t manipulating when the relationship started, but staying in it was a scheme.

Yeah I think that also makes sense and could plausibly happen in the books - I mean that’s basically what I kinda imagine in my head, that Jon may be fascinated with Dany initially bc she’s a Targaryen & dragon rider then turn on her but only in secret, just, without the sex lmao. I just personally did NOT see the chemistry and I remember when they made that “oh you got a lil crush Jon Snow?” comment in the show and i was flabbergasted and when they banged I was actively cringing and I thought maybe it was just my aversion to them as a ship but then everyone online was like “but they’re so cute in interviews what’s happening??!” aksjd. so i think like many people i was hoping there was a deeper reason he seemed so disinterested, like even completely putting aside the shipping aspects, i thought jon seducing dany so he could get a dragon made a sort of sense with his character. he’s certainly willing to play nice with stannis for help, and this would be a much more morally murky but logical next step. but i had zero faith in the writers, so i DID just assume it was going to be (the much more boring route imo) that he did initially love her, realized she’s too dangerous, but stayed in a relationship with her to get her support.

Imagine my shock when I read the script for the finale and it said that Jon loved her even after she burned KL. Bad writing and bad chemistry between actors.

LISTEN. The conspiracy theory HOLES i went down after that fucking finale. i was just like. there’s no way they wrote an ending THIS BAD. there’s NO FUCKING WAY. and then we get the script and it was WORSE???? he was really just snowed by her THE WHOLE TIME???????

i guess apparently being hot is NOT enough to compensate, we need ACTORS for chemistry okay, at least ONE PERSON needs to be able to emote to sell a love story lmaooo

I can definitely imagine Jon remaining in a relationship for safety and politics as a defensive play, but the offensive angle of pol!Jon in which he initiates the relationship with no feelings or desire with the intention of killing her feels wrong especially if a forced abortion is involved.

Yeah that was basically what I was getting at and why I made the Ygritte comparison - he has sex with Ygritte while actively plotting to betray her in a very personal way so I don’t think it’s a reach to say he could something similar again. I can also see it stretching into like, Jon makes the decision he has to kill her/help kill her but he hasn’t broken things off bc like, KL exploded and he’s busy rn or whatever. So certainly still offensive in that he’s actively manipulating her for his own ends and unlike with Ygritte, he doesn’t even return her feelings in any genuine way. VS like the completely defensive “he falls in love, realizes she’s too far gone, THEN betrays her” take. But starting a relationship with her with the express intent of murdering her and forcing an abortion on her if she gets with child? With everything we know about Jon Snow as he stands, that one is a reach. That could change in the future I suppose but I personally don’t see it likely to happen that way.

#asks #anons #political jon #talking about the show makes me feel so dumb. it was SUCH a dumb show at the ending aksjdjdj #like the ending theories are wild bc the show made no sense!!!! 😂😂😂😭😭😭😭😭

[all-about-the-tea-parties]

House of the Dragon Episode One thoughts as I watch:

I really like the two young girls so far they’ve been captivating and Matt Smith is promising as a creepy grooming uncle

Not sure I enjoy the… visuals?? It’s kind of uncanny valley. It both feels too real (because I can tell it’s a set) and not real enough (because I can tell it’s a set). Nothing wrong with the sets in question, just… disappointingly obvious. GoT had sets too (alongside a plethora of locations which gave it a valuable realism) but all the sets in Game of Thrones weren’t overly noticeable which meant they felt beautifully rich in terms of world building.

Also don’t like the editing style. Early GoT was frugal w/ editing. The dialogue took centre stage and actors were allowed to command a scene from beginning until end (unless there was a poignant reaction). So far the editing feels sporadic and unintentional. And certain camera shots feel a tad ambitious for no particular reason, which makes it seem indulgent. It’s all a little distracting.

The dialogue is actually good! Not word play levels that I expect, but contextually there isn’t much need yet. Not much politicking happening because there’s no real “enemy” whereas in GoT the enemy was everyone, so much politicking all the time. The dialogue, though clever, is very upfront (because the targs are unquestionable in their power). So it’s good. No need to distract ppl with so many cuts and weird shots.

Maybe they’re trying to distract from the sets?

It just feels a bit… modern? Staged?

A quick question: idk if it’s my tv or not, but like is the frame sped up? On my tv it all feels s little too fast in movement (sometimes tv offers a “hyper realism” thing and that might be messing w/ my experience)

There’s def a lack of proper intrigue. But I know that’s to come, so it’s fine.

Really it’s the visual part that bothers me.

Not sure I enjoy seeing Matt smith in a sex scene but alright

The girls are the best part for sure, and I know they’re the point of it all, so I do hope the writers aren’t sacrificing the intrigue of other characters for them.

Like imagine game of thrones if D&D framed Jon Snow as the main character from the beginning. It’d be boring af

I like seeing my guy from outlander here tho. Not enough variety in accents in fantasy and I appreciate it here.

NOT THE HORSE

I HATE JOUSTS

NO MORE HORSE ABUSE

Is it ok? It’s ok?

I wanna be grossed out by siblings being in love but like considering the family they’re in, it’s probably at warped attempt at normalcy. Like at least they were married to each other and not an aunt/uncle (or PARENT)

Ugh the “impossible choice” fucking starting to see this trend in film where men are shown to have to decide women’s lives during childbirth (obviously at sn attempt to humanise them and make them good “but in a bad position”) like honestly it’s the new “turning your wife’s death/trauma into your own for a plot point” like spareeee me the angst most men HISTORICALLY had no issue killing their wives

Oh fuck me he’s gonna kill her

Never mind he’s a bad person

Never mind it was gruesome

They didn’t frame it as a difficult choice or like “he didn’t have any other option” or “he’s still good actually because we cut away from it all”

Holy shit MAJOR trigger warning for a torture scene

Like sure yeah maybe they were both gonna die but the doctor clearly didn’t give af about the queen so I doubt there’s was much investigation for a better option (that saves her)

Wait so he has a son now

Oh the baby’s gone

I LOVE how Valyrian sounds 200 years before Dany

The rolllls

Small touch I really enjoy? The fires give off so much smoke and I’ve never seen it before in a show. Do they normally cgi it away?

Not sure I’m hooked, again, intrigue is missing, character across the board that are all thoroughly interesting, but I DO like our main contenders.

They did NOT just throw the Game of Thrones ending shade like that

They. Did. Not. Just say DANY was meant to get the throne (even if for a short while because I feel she’s only meant to have it to unite the realm for the battle and likely leaves/dies after, as an end to an age of magic).

Like the point of GoT was obvs that the politicking WASNT the point but it’s suchhhh vindication that Daenerys was magically destined to ascend the throne

I don’t care if you think Jon is an option - she was the mother of dragons not him

Doesn’t mean Jon doesn’t do important things during the war to come, or even become a king after Dany, as this show said a Targ w/ dragons is needed to protect the world from a position of monarchy - doesn’t mean that monarchy exists for very much longer after the war ends.

So TECHNICALLY she both WINS the game of thrones AND breaks the wheel

Coupled w/ the fact that they HIGHLIGHTED Dany’s name at the beginning

G RR Martin is practically shouting who becomes the head of Westeros during the winter war. (Again, not necessarily the PTWP, because this is a separate Targ dreaming, not the prophecy that Rhaegar became obsessed w/ but now I see why he became obsessed w/ it if he was given this info by his dad before hearing it).

Ahhhhhhh

V I N D I C A T I O N

#anyways this show said fuck Jon snow #I mean really #it did #he doesn’t have any attachment to a dragon #that’s allll Dany #this is a Daenerys Targaryen was RIGHT show #Jon Snow’s a STARK #take THAT #I might just defend this show to death because of that last line #the men online have put me through too much #they basically said season 8? what season 8? that’s bad fanfiction #Stan Rhaenyra’s #house of the dragon #hotd spoilers #hbo #house of the dragon spoilers #spoilers

[reginarubie]

I guess that's how an extremely good fic overdose feels like. After reading three chapters in a row I can't keep calm! I mean, that's the level of intrigue D&D could never keep. Such a rollercoaster 💥

If I had to wait to know how this proposal situation ends, I'd literally be no less desperate than Aemond. Thankfully, I found out our girl is safe very soon. Symon, I don't know you but don't be interested in Sansa? There's already to much tension, ahhh. Lord and Lady Vance are amazing, I already love them and I really hope they are just playing their parts in a play Sansa wrote, while staying on the greens side!

Of course, Aemond, she knew. SHE DESIGNED IT. I get it — the Prince is offended, especially after they agreed to work together. But as soon as he chills, he may understand what was her plan about and appreciate this brilliant mind! You're gonna get the smartest wife, Aemond, don't worry. And with time, I don't doubt it, you'll kick Daemon's ass. Some things demand more effort and preparation. Sansa already fooled both Daemon and Rhae and now they think they have the upper hand. Isn't this the best outcome for now? MOREOVER NOW NED IS NOT A LOWBORN AND SHE'S PROTECTED BY THE THIRD PARTY. The girl is a genius.

Though I can help but feel Jonsa tent vibes during the Firesteel fight scene. It was all 🔥🔥🔥 and oh gods, our girl is going full Jon Snow, since she doesn't want to explain anything and asks Aemond to unconditionally trust her. And Aemond basically mirrors s8 Sansa, which I find very meaningful 👀

It was nice meeting Sara and the vision got me screaming! THE DAGGER? OMG? I'm thrilled and excited and puzzled and... Broome has visions too?? Am I mistaken? This keeps getting better and better, and I can get enough 🥺

Ciao Anne!,

This is the way to start the new year! And yes, I know you left it in my ask box before 2023 if I recall correctly, still… 🤩🤩🤩 thank you for so many compliments!

Lord and lady Vance have their reasons to help Sansa, but boy will she gain their love 😉 also, Symon… dear Symon… you’re gonna be a nice lad, aren’t you?

You put it in the right light, Aemond has his reasons as does Sansa. Sansa’s plan is not without flaws or weak points, and Aemond just wants to help — Season8 Jon and Sansa reversal indeed — I think Aemond point was not much what Sansa’s plan was but that he wasn’t included in a plot that could potentially endanger her without him being none the wiser so unable to help when they agreed to work together.

He’s not questioning Sansa’ intelligence, or the cleverness of her plan. He is questioning the matter of trust between them which is prominent in their relationship due the many lies and unsaid between them.

Don’t worry you’ll get more soon, I promise! As soon as I work around reading your firesteel fic I’ll put my mind to finish the next chapter which, a word of warning, will be pretty long and we’ll see many characters and people and plots at the same time because I need to speed the process before actually starting the Dance — so Viserys sleep well for your days are numbered — and also the first sidestory will be up with next chapter as well…so be ready for that too!

Also with some more Targaryen children content.

Also yes, Sara-the-dagger-the-vision and ser Broome. I put so many hints in last chapter I almost lost count and keep foreshadowing how the entire series will end so 😂😂😂 … yeah keep your eyes open, because you’ll get much more of all of that!

A small excerpt of next chapter (just because we all need to fall in love with Daeron— that is my agenda)

“I do not need to be minded” she hissed between clattering teeth. I am the lady of Winterfell and I am home, I do not need to be minded! “No one said you did,” and for the first time Daeron did remind her of Aemond “but we want to keep you safe anyway”

As always thank you for dropping by! Sending all my love ~G.

#ask the hag #kissed by fire ~ kissed by steel #aemond targaryen #aemondxsansa #aemond/sansa #sansaemond #aemondsa #firesteel #firesteel fandom #firesteel brainrot #do not touch Daeron the daring #he’s a treat and he should be left in charge of making the girls less angry #or perhaps the brothers know it and they send him ahead purposefully

[dragcnlxrd]

Ya’ll wanna know what really pisses me off... that scene where Dany and her dragons show up to save them in the North right. And instead of getting on fuckin Drogon like he should of that dipshit Jon Snow decided oh i’m gonna just swing my idiot sword around and waste fuckin time so the you know the Night King could KILL VISERION! Yeah... Never forget that guys... it’s HIS fault! I mean let me also just remind you all how he USED DAENERYS! Yeah I know shocking right! Just played her like a fool with this whole “your mah queen, I love you” but what happened as soon as the threat to the fuckin north and his stupid house was gone? HE FUCKIN DIDN’T GIVE TWO SHITS ABOUT HER OR HER CAUSE?! He didn’t even seem to care over the fact that taking kings landing would have been the more ideal move THEN going north but noooo dipshit snow had to use his dick to manipulate her into going north to save mini cersei and all those ungrateful jack holes in their snow land...

#Midori Sweet & Sour [ O O C ] #just thought about how shit the last two seasons were #lysander says burn it all down #all of those ungrateful peasants and their snowy realms

[noartnowritingsorry]

#Dane Whitman #The Black Knight #Original Sin #Avengers #The Ebony Blade #Marvel Comics #kit harington #yeah he's gonna be played by Jon Snow #I'm sure it will be fine

[madamebaggio]

Notes: Previously...

Still not hot, but getting warmer ;)

***

Chapter 3

Jon felt like shit.

Now, if anyone asked his few friends –especially Tormund – they’d say it wasn’t something new. They enjoyed saying that Jon liked to brood.

It wasn’t true. He had his moments –he’d admit it –but he didn’t make it his life or anything.

But the way he had talked to Sansa earlier… Yeah, he felt like shit.

He had some pretty good excuses to justify himself –what she did had been foolish and could’ve gotten her into a lot of trouble –but it was a lie.

The truth –the embarrassing and shameful truth –was that Jon reacted so badly because of how he felt upon reading that message.

It had been past one, the night had been calm so far and he and the other men were playing cards when his phone chimed, indicating a message had arrived. He opened it, without really paying attention to it, saw it was from Sansa, read the part about helping her. He was wondering if she wanted some kind of furniture done for her apartment, because Lord knew they rarely talked to each other socially, so he couldn’t imagine any other reason for her to contact him.

Then he opened the link.

It was… A sexual bucket list. 30 something items in it.

Jon went back to properly read the message. Yes, it was from Sansa and she was asking his help with it. How did she even know he was good at oral? He was pretty sure he never talked about his sex life with her.

Unbidden and unwanted, an image came to his head: Sansa splayed on his bed, legs spread wide, her fingers clutching his hairs and he licked her…

The image was so strong he had to literally shake his head to get rid of it.

It had to be some kind of sick joke. Sansa would never proposition him like this.

“What have you got there, Snow?” Tormund demanded, when he failed to answer a previous question.

Jon cleared his throat and put his phone away, clearing his throat. “Nothing.”

“Nothing, hn?” Satin arched an eyebrow. “Got a new girl, Snow?”

“Jon?” Turmund snickered. “Swear to God, his pecker’s gonna fall off from disuse.”

As the rest of the night proceeded with no big emergencies, the men started theorizing about Jon’s hypothetical girl, they made jokes and crude suggestions.

He knew he shouldn’t feel offended, there was no girl. They had no idea who was that on the phone, if there really was someone. They all had no idea how ashamed Jon was feeling about his reaction, and most of them would never make jokes like those if they really thought there was someone.

It was just… It was Sansa! Her father had raised him, her brother was his best friend; and said brother would kill him slowly if he ever dreamed that he’d thought –for a fucking second –of Sansa like that.

He needed to talk to her as soon as possible.

However, the closer he got to her apartment, the more his embarrassment was replaced by some misguided anger. How could she send a message like that to anyone? Did she have any idea how some men talked to each other about women? Jon knew some guys from the station that would have made a show of passing that message around.

Sansa was better than that.

In the end he’d been as much of an asshole as most of those guys. He hadn’t meant to fight with Sansa, but he had anyway.

And who the fuck was he to tell her what to do?

Jon put down the hammer he’d picked and never used. Arya liked to tease him saying that wood carving and designing furniture really completed Jon’s lone brooding mountain-man lifestyle. She sometimes asked him if he had adopted a bear yet. Never mind there were no bears –or mountains, as a matter of fact - around there.

Jon liked carving and working with wood, he even sold some of his pieces online. Besides, it was relaxing.

Not today.

He sighed and decided to quit while he was ahead, before he destroyed some project. He had just gone back to the living room of his small cabin when the headlights lit it from the outside.

He walked to the door and opened it in time to see Sansa getting out of her car. To say that he was shocked would be an understatement. He hadn't expected to see her so soon, but this was actually good, because he could apologize now.

She was really serious and stopped even before reaching his porch. “Hey, Jon.” Her voice was small, tentative.

Jon gave her a small smile, trying to reassure her. “Hey, Sansa. Wanna come in? I’ll make us tea.”

She nodded and made her way to him. He held the door open for her. She stopped in the middle of his living room and he watched as she took the place in.

Sansa had grown up in a big house, with every bit of comfort that could be given to a child, and that made Jon wonder how she’d view his place. This cabin was all he had left from his parents and he liked it, but it probably looked too… Bare, for someone like Sansa, who worked with interior design for a living and had always loved pretty things.

“Is this one of yours?” She pointed at the coffee table.

Jon cleared his throat. “Yes. One of my first ones.”

She hummed something, eyes still on the piece. “You should consider selling more of those.”

Was this some kind of compliment? “I like to do them in my own time; no pressure, no demands.”

Sansa just nodded her head softly, looking at the table, but Jon was pretty sure she wasn’t seeing it anymore. “I’ll go get us that tea.” He said, just to break the silence.

She finally turned to him. “I’m not here for tea, Jon.” She sighed. “I just… I came to say sorry.”

“Sorry?” Jon was caught by surprise. “Why would you say sorry to me?” He asked, completely confused. “I should be the one apologizing.”

“Yes, you should and I was planning on making sure you would.” She admitted with a small grin. “But you were worried about me and I guess I shouldn’t get exactly angry about it. Besides, it wasn’t like you were expecting to get a porny text from me.”

If she thought that was porny she had a few things to learn.

Not that he wanted to be the one to teach her.

He had nothing to teach her.

He shouldn’t even think about….

What the fuck was wrong with him?

“You’ve said it yourself, Sansa. It was a joke, I got the text by accident.” He hurried to say, eager to let her off the hook, so he could start forgetting about this.

He had re-read that list. He shouldn’t have, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He told himself it was just curiosity.

And it was.

He chanced a look at Sansa and saw that she was biting her lower lip.

Jon knew that face, he knew it very well and it never boded well for him, Robb or basically anyone that wasn’t a sadistic bastard –or Arya.

That face meant she was about to ask something, and Jon knew –from previous experiences –that he wouldn’t be able to say ‘no’. That was how she tricked him and Robb into playing Barbie with her.

When Sansa blinked those blue eyes at people she always got what she wanted.

“I’ve been thinking about something you said earlier.” She started.

“OK…” Jon agreed carefully.

“About how men talk about women they have sex with.” She clarified.

Jon just nodded, not sure where this was going.

“I do know that guys can say… Stuff.” She sighed. “And even lie about this, just because people always believe them.”

Something in her voice made Jon pay even more attention to her. She did know because it had happened to her. “Who said what about you?” He all but demanded.

He hadn’t realized he’d growled until Sansa looked a bit alarmed. “Nobody.” She lied quickly. “That wasn’t my point. What I wanted to say is that –as a guy –you know what guys say.”

Jon let go of the lie –for now –and arched an eyebrow at her logic. “So?”

She bit her lip again, which meant she was getting ready to ask whatever she wanted to ask. The way she was delaying it meant it was something she didn’t think he’d want to do. By the tone of this conversation he was pretty sure he wouldn’t.

“And you work at the fire station, with a lot of other guys…” She continued.

He really didn’t like where this was going. “Sansa…”

“Maybe you could introduce me to one of them.” She finally asked.

“Why?” Jon asked shocked. Sansa only dated those preppy boys and idiotic lawyers, why would she want to… “Is this about the list?” He asked, beyond shocked.

Sansa pressed her lips together and didn’t answer, which was answer enough.

“No! Absolutely no.”

“Jon, just listen to me…” Sansa started.

“I’m not going to hook you up with some guy that I work with just so you can do this stupid list with...”

“It’s not just about the list!” She argued. “I mean… Yeah, sure, it’s a bit about it, but not only that.” She admitted. “It’s just that everybody keeps saying how amazing sex is and I have yet to see it. So maybe I just need something different and completely out of my comfort zone.”

“Wait a second.” Jon was still caught in another part of her speech. “You’ve never… You didn’t…”

Sansa arched an eyebrow and dared him to finish that sentence.

“You dated before.” He knew the answer to that, but still felt like he needed to check it.

“Yes.” She crossed her arms protectively in front of herself. “I’m not a virgin, Jon.” She said defensively.

No, but apparently she’d had seriously crappy sex. Not that he was about to tell her that, because… Well, this was Sansa and he shouldn’t even think about her and sex at the same time.

Like ever.

If he really thought about it, it wasn’t that shocking. He remembered two of her boyfriends: Joffrey Baratheon and Harry Hardying, both were arrogant pricks, that felt like the world belonged to them because they had fancy last names and money. They were the type of men that thought only about themselves, it was logical it’d be the same when it came to sex.

When his silence stretched too long, Sansa started to squirm. “Look, I don’t want anything serious. I just want a guy that it’s going to treat me nicely and… Well…” She made a vague gesture with her hand. “And maybe you know a guy that’d be okay with this.”

“No!” Jon repeated. “I’m not going to pimp you out to one of my coworkers, Sansa. This is crazy.”

Just the idea of something like that left a bad taste in his mouth. There were many men in his station that were good men, that he knew would treat any woman with respect, but he wasn’t going to introduce Sansa to them.

No!

Yes, her idea had its merits. He knew the guys and knew how they talked about the women they went out with, he could tell which one of them he’d never introduce to any woman, because they were pricks.

But not Sansa! Not even to the best of them and he knew many of them would love this idea of hers.

But no!

Sansa rolled her eyes, like he was the crazy one. “Okay, fine.” Her voice was sharp. “I’ll just have to find someone myself then.”

That was even worse!

Sansa went to pass him, so she could leave, and Jon grabbed her arm to stop her. Her eyes snapped to him, widened in her surprise. Jon couldn’t say he wasn’t surprised himself, he never touched Sansa like that.

Thinking about it now… He was sure he hardly ever touched her at all.

He was going to say he was sorry, but then he’d explain to her all the reasons this was a ridiculous idea. Sansa was a smart woman; she’d see he was right. She was sensible, he’d be convincing.

Then they could all forget the last 24 hours had happened at all.

That was what Jon planned on doing, he had the words sorted out in his head; but what actually came out was something completely different.

“Then let me do it.”

#madame baggio #crackship #fanfiction #gifs not mine #chapter #modern au #game of thrones #Sansa Stark #jon snow #sansa x jon #sansa stark x jon snow #jonsa #a special bucket list

[janiedean]

@seethemflying I think Sansa is in the next bracket down of important characters (with Jaime). In the outline, they weren't named as one of the big five, but in the process of writing have grown more important. No way is Sansa's ending going to be anything like Show Sansa's, though (and same with Jaime tbh).

agreed but lemme take a second from cramming to rant about this because I honestly have An Issue

in the sense: I 100% agree that both jaime and sansa are next bracket/secondary main (speaking as someone whose top five is made by ppl who are either secondary main or tertiary main if they have a pov like.... I'm not gonna argue that theon is a main fiver bc he's in my top three) but like what I can't deal with is the following as in that the main five are the main five bc they have in between them all the main themes george wants to tackle + the main plot stuff except for the 'romance is my #1 sense of existing in the plot', as in:

jon is azor ahai + has the chosen one deconstruction trope going on + most likely has the 'I never wanted to be Important™/have a throne but I'll have to for duty' ending + identity arc ie if he's not jon snow first of his name i'm eating my hat

dany has the dragons + the targ ancestry deal + 'I thought I wanted to rule but actually I don't I just want to help ppl' storyline (which is the hill i'm dying on)

bran has the oH WAIT fisher king deconstruction going on + the magic™ storyline + he's most likely kitn + he's tied to uh the literal rebirth of the continent so + how to deal with disability storyline

arya has the I NEED TO REALIZE WHO I AM storyline + the learning to be yourself as a gnc woman storyline + revenge is shit storyline + I'll become a skilled assassin and choose not to act on it unless absolutely necessary storyline + trauma/ptsd storyline tied to losing your own identity

tyrion has the shakesperean hero thing going on as in I have to make peace with the fact that I killed my father/did mistakes + overcoming the societal issues/problems/the prejudice most ppl have for him that’s caused by his disability storyline + he's the only one of these five who doesn't have any magical stuff in his background/only has his brain to rely on + overcoming his family's legacy and making it better storyline

now: a bunch of other minor/secondary characters have all of this (I mean idk theon and jaime have identity + learning to deal with/overcoming societal scorn given by them being disabled/having become disabled in various ways + ptsd, brienne has the gnc woman thing etc) but like each single one of these characters only lacks the OH I HAVE A BIGASS GREAT ROMANCE WITH MY BACKGROUND (I mean gendry exists to be arya's LI but idt it's gonna be important in her future storyline the way it'll be in brienne's to say one).. which oh wait SANSA JAIME AND BRIENNE HAVE, because guess what that's the next secondary bracket where those three characters have it as a main part of the story which is exempt from the politics angle (bc none of them is tied to the iron trap by the plot no none of them jaime doesn't want it, brienne isn't a contender and sansa was supposed to be queen in the beginning so she's obviously not going to be that later no not even qitn that's gonna be bran) and here falls the entire shebang because what half of this fandom doesn't seem to get is that *drumroll* george's favorite angle to tackle when it comes to romance is... THAT EXTERNAL BEAUTY IS NOT WHAT YOU SHOULD BE LOOKING AT IN PEOPLE AT THE END OF IT AND GUESS WHAT THAT'S THE MAIN POINT OF ALL OF THEM PLUS THE KNIGHTHOOD DECONSTRUCTION THING and with that I mean:

not counting that sansa's reaction to trauma is written to be specular and opposite to arya's as in arya tends to lose sight of herself/becomes someone else/resorts to violence to survive sansa never loses track of herself/her innate kindness which... is smth I wish dnd remembered, the thing is: sansa is presented in the beginning as 'i'm a twelve year old with all the issues with shallowness a 12yo brought up like me can have and everything I want from life is a good love story', which... guess what she's 100% going to get except

characters need to have an evolution, if sansa wants a handsome pretty guy who'll make her queen in the beginning and she has to realize joffrey was The Worst, do we really think her endgame is being queen of a handsome nice king when her entire schtick is liking songs about knights and wanting true love and someone gentle and brave blah blah? no, and that's exceedingly obvious when the text throws at you in the face that her only two actually viable choices for LI - sandor and tyrion - are.. guys who are either disfigured or disabled or traumatized or all three of them but are actually good people and she has to learn to see beyond looks, and no one else fits that bill period - sansa isn't getting with a pretty guy who'll make her queen, sansa will find love with a guy who's nowhere near pretty or handsome but will love her for who she is and that she will see the good behind the not-handsomeness dot and she'll prob go back north with him and be happy advising bran bc she learned stuff in court at most and I'm dying on that hill, bc again the entire point of her sl is having the nice good love story where she sees beyond external beauty which has been clear from page five of her first pov imvho

never mind that again she wants to be a queen in the beginning and then she realizes it's shit so why would she be one in the end? like not to be that asshole but george isn't exactly pro monarchy and it's obvious he's not going to paint it as an inherently positive thing

this attaches back to the fact that there's a whole knighthood deconstruction happening for which sansa has to realize that the gallant/true knights are not the ones who seem that/look like it/flaunt it around

which brings us to the fact that oh wait sandor and jaime in themselves are true knights in spite of the fact that sandor refuses to even consider himself one and jaime thinks he fucked it up and no one sees them as such

and that the truest knight in westeros who will get recognized as such is brienne

who doesn't look standard hot either

and has the love story with jaime right on page

and jaime also has the love story right on page where he has to realize he's into people that aren't c. especially brienne and so on which is what's happening right now like jb recognizing themselves as true knights™ is part of their whole thing like... it's... important

(this counting that san/san is beauty and the beast played straight with sansa as the beauty while jb is the same trope except reversed on itself five times because both j and b are both of them)

and this would also like make utter sense if oh, wait, jb weren't in the riverlands where sandor also is and if oh wait who has sworn a vow to find sansa like again I'm dying on the hill that brienne kills stoneheart, they go on the quiet isle to recover, sandor is like AH YOU'RE LOOKING FOR SANSA and sansa gets rescued in the vale by the only three true knights in these series including the one that's her actual love interest at least the way I see it and where do you think that's going to end yeah exactly

as in: she'll have the umpteenth proof that all the true knights in these books don't look like the songs and she'll get the one she wanted

(also brienne is way more like sansa than arya in personality so like... parallelism of two girls into romantic stuff getting with the guys they like? except that for b. it's relevant bc she's ugly and she gets with hot guy who's into her and for s. it's relevant bc she's hot and she goes with guy-everyone-considers-a-lost-cause showing that they're not exactly a lost cause)

like sansa is there to a) have half of the main love story plot b) as the resident song expert witness what knighthood actually means, jaime is the resident person doing things for love and finding ways to do it that aren't toxic/finds someone who'll actually love him and not what he represents, brienne is the resident 'I never thought anyone would be into me and I'm pursuing my dreams without a shred of hope they'll go well' and she gets all of that and sandor is there to be sansa's LI and to tell ppl that you can go to rehab and have a decent life even if you were used and abused to hell and back (jaime too tbh) and like none of that has to do with the iron trap, the magic, the zombies and whatnot but it's okay because it's their point in the plot and is2g I just wish people would take characters for what they represent instead of shoehorning them into others's themes/stories just because it's what they want for them, the end

(I could rant about the third bracket of characters ie theon & co & getting over trauma/ptsd without the Love Story™ but I have to get back to study if I wanna fill some prompts later so it's not gonna happen for now but... sorry for the rant I'm just really tired of the whole sansastark will get the iron trap and the north and be the ymbq and get with a guy that looks good for her depending on what we ship not considering the overall reaching plot or her book plot and everyone else will have zero relevance in the story because we said so especially when it means giving all of that to a character who is uh not belonging to any of the categories represented by the main five which are actually kiiindaaaa relevant rep but I'mma just gonna shut up here)

#janie rants #janie writes meta #i guess #anti show sansa #seethemflying #janie replies #jaime x brienne for ts #sansan for ts #long post for ts #janie speculates #right i'm back on studying penal law rip #my stuff

[kallypsowrites]

Lets play a game! Rate for 1-10 the hotness of a character and describe it

Stannis baratheon

Jon Snow

Roose Bolton

Tywin Lannister

Jamie Lannister

Davos Seaworth

Rob Stark

Ramsey Bolton

Oof. Okay. Will this expose me? Maybe. I'm gonna base this off of the show, so actors have a LOT of bearing on this.

Stannis Baratheon: 3/10. Rigid. To focused on his duty and honor to be focused on romance. I personally find him boring. Nah.

Jon Snow: 7/10. Objectively very attractive but kinda dull to me? No hate to Jon Snow fans, I just didn't connect. Except when he's going feral. He's more attractive then.

Roose Bolton: 4/10. The character is a straight up asshole with a terrible personality, but the actor has a nice voice that I enjoy listening to, so he gets points.

Tywin Lannister: 8/10. He's played by Charles Dance and that's literally the only reason he gets this score, but fuck you for making me expose myself like this.

Jaime Lannister: 10/10. He's really hot. He fights good. He has a character arc. I could fix him.

Davos Seaworth: 5/10. Not my type but is a wholesome guy. Adopts wayward children nonstop, which I enjoy.

Robb Stark: 10/10. Those blue eyes. That wolfish energy. Military tactics off the chart. But also a romantic. I mean yeah, it'll get you killed at a dinner, but it's worth it for Richard Madden

Ramsay Bolton: 5/10. Personality is absolutely rancid but actor is attractive. I like his eyes. They are pretty. Still cheered when he died though.

This is an utterly nonscientific rating. Hope you guys enjoy.

#asks #game of thrones #don't judge me

[blackmissfrizzle]

Collide

Characters: Dean Winchester x black!reader, Geralt x black!reader

Summary: When on a case, the reader bumps into a familiar face.

Warnings: None

A/N: This idea has been in my forever. I’m happy its finally out.

Between the store clerk trying to stare down your blouse and him giving you, Sam, and Dean unnecessary details of the attack here, you were gonna blow your brains out. Dean noticed your frustration and smiled at you. He loved the little pouty look you would get when you were annoyed. It was the same look you gave him when you wanted something from him.

To get away from the clerk’s stare you roamed around the gas station, still intently listening to his story.

“Then some dude who looked like he came straight from Game of Thrones came inside. I thought he was LARPing.”

“LARPing?” Dean repeated looking up from his notepad.

“Live action role playing,” you explained, your fingers dragging over the chips.

The clerk looked at you adoringly. “You know what it is?”

“Yeah,” you sauntered back up to the counter. Time to tease this little sucker. You took a cherry blowpop and unwrapped it. “I do it all the time. My favorite is the professor and the naughty schoolgirl.” You fluttered your eyelashes as you stuck the lollipop in your mouth.

Dean squeezed your hip in warning to cut it out. He didn’t need more reason to knock the kid out. You paid him no mind though. You just continue to smile at the clerk in which you had no doubt probably jizzed in his pants.

Dean slammed the countertop to get the young man’s attention. “Hey, eyes over here. What happened when Jon Snow came in?”

“Umm, he umm, went crazy.” You couldn’t hide your smile as he stumbled over his words. Serves him right for being a little creep. “He started swinging some blade around and killed the three other guys that were here. I thought I was next when we made eye contact, but he walked right pass me.”

Sam asked for the footage for the fight, but just our luck the camera was busted, it was only there for show. Now you had to be here longer listening to the clerk ramble.

“Uh, he’s as tall as you,” the clerk pointed at Dean, “But he’s ripped. More ripped than you,” he pointed at Sam while Dean murmured, he was ripped. “Oh, and his eyes, they were freaky man,”

The three of you traded looks. Maybe you were just dealing with a demon.

“What color were they? Yellow? White? Black?” Sam questioned.

“Yellow, well more like a golden color. You know kinda like Twilight vampire eyes.”

That was odd. None of you dealt with anything with those kind of eyes before. Guess this means this wasn’t gonna be as easy as you thought.

“Oh, and he had long white hair which is weird because he did not look that old at. Maybe it’s a new hipster trend.”

Your head popped up at the mention of the white hair. It couldn’t be him. He’d be dead by now.

Losing all jokiness, you grabbed the clerk by the collar and pulled out the necklace he gave you that you always wore. “Did he wear something like this?”

“Yeah, the same thing, just bigger.” You let him go and smoothed his collar in apology before walking out. You needed air asap.

Sam and Dean soon followed. Neither have seen you get rough with a witness before. “Y/N/N, you okay?” Sam rubbed your back as you tried to catch your breath.

“Yeah, I think I know who our killer is.”

“Kinda figured that out. Care to share with the class?” Dean knew just how to pull you out of that state, being a dick. You couldn’t pass up hitting him.

“Remember when those witches sent me to the past? I think the guy who helped me is the killer.”

Dean snapped his fingers trying to remember the man’s name. “What was his name. Geral- Gerald? No. Geral-”

“Geralt.” You finished for him.

Dean didn’t like how you said his name or how your eyes lightened up. The two of you weren’t a couple, but you were his.

“Wouldn’t he be dead by now?” Sam questioned.

“Time travel.” You simplified for him.

Dean shook his head. “Man, I hate time travel.”  

—

The three of you ended up at an abandoned house. You used a hair tie Geralt gave you as a conduit for a tracking spell.

“Geralt, do you have an extra scrunchie?”

“A what?” He asked, looking up at you on Roach as he walked alongside you.

You forgot they didn’t know the term scrunchies. “A hair tie.”

“Why didn’t you just call it that?” He complained.

You rolled your eyes at his grumpiness. “That’s what we call them in the future.”

“Ah. No, I don’t have an extra one. Why do you ask?”

“Because mines broke and I don’t want my braids in my face in this heat.”

Geralt sighed as he undid his. “Here,” he handed you his hair tie.

When you got into town, you bought a new hair tie at the market and you tried to give Geralt’s his, but he insisted on you keeping it. Instead he took the new one.

You surprised it work since it was so flimsy, but you couldn’t use the necklace he gave it to you, because technically it wasn’t his. He had it made for you. It was for his ‘little witcher.’

You opted to lead with your sword instead of your gun. Geralt wouldn’t be shooting at y’all. Plus, the only time you could use it was when you were hunting vamps and you missed swinging this baby through the air.

Quietly, you entered the home. Geralt would be on guard and you didn’t feel like fighting him off.

The three of you split up, in search of him. You really hope that you would find him first and not Sam or Dean. He wouldn’t trust them as easily.

Your hopes were crushed when you heard Dean yell, “Son of a bitch!” Racing down the hall, you and Sam arrived at the same time only to see Dean dodging Geralt’s sword.

“I thought you said he was some sort of hunter?” Sam pointed out Geralt’s black eyes.

“He’s not!”

You screamed out the Witcher’s name, but he didn’t respond. He had to be under someone’s control.

“Don’t shoot him!” You yelled at Dean, who was letting out rounds.

“Well, tell him to stop trying to impale me!” Dean rolled to his side to dodge the sword once more.

The witcher had the hunter backed into a corner with no room to miss his strikes. Before Dean could get stabbed, you blocked Geralt’s sword with yours.

“Geralt! Stop! It’s me!” Geralt’s black eyes held no recognition. It was as if you were another monster.

You’re a total badass but fighting Geralt proved to be exhausting. He was a much better swordsman than you and it didn’t help that you learned from him.

While you were trying to stay alive, a book barely missed your head. Looking in the direction it came from, you saw Jaskier being hemmed up by Sam and Dean.

“Jaskier, did you just throw a fucking book at me!?”

“Y/N?” The bard squinted his eyes, trying to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating you. “It’s you! Thank the heavens! Geralt is in dire need of your help.”

“I can see that!” You gritted, while Geralt had you backed against the wall with your swords crossed.

“Geralt, look it’s Y/N, the woman’s name you’ve been saying in your sleep is here.” He’s been saying your name in his sleep? You were sure he be too caught up with Yennfer.

It didn’t matter though. Geralt still was on attack mode. You were talking to Jaskier, trying to figure out what was happening when Geralt stroke your sword out of your hand with the tip of his near your neck.

Jaskier was forgotten by the boys, now that you were in imminent danger, but you told them to stand down. You knew you could get through to him.

“Geralt, it’s me!” The sound of distress in your voice broke through Geralt. His eyes reverted back to normal, well, normal for him.

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The one that got away.  Geralt dropped his sword, shortened the distance between you two by leaning his forehead against yours while cupping your jaw gently. “Y/N,” he whispered against your lips.

His lips took you by surprise. You haven’t felt them against yours since you came back your time. This time it was different. It was more passionate. The eagerness from Geralt let you know that he was seeking familiarity and you were willing to give it.

A throat clearing broke you out the kiss. You turned to see a pissed off Dean, a smug Jaskier, and an uncomfortable Sam. Taking in that sight, you stepped away from Geralt’s embrace.

“Um, Sam, Dean, this is Geralt of Rivia.”

Despite his immediate disdain for the man, Dean introduced himself. “Nice to meet you. I’m Dean Winchester of Lawrence.”

Geralt ticked his head to the side before shaking Dean’s hand. So, this was the idiot that Y/N would groan on about. He never quite understood why the idiot didn’t want to be in a relationship with Y/N. She was smart, beautiful, and a hell of a hunter. He would’ve taken her for himself if only time didn’t separate them.

With introductions over, you got to the meat of it. Geralt explained that someone plucked him, Jaskier, Ciri, and Yennefer out of time, just to use him as a weapon. The rest were used to keep him in line, but after one too many fights with his abductors they found a way to spell him under their control.

“Then why are you with him?” You asked Jaskier.

Jaskier’s face flushed and he looked towards the ground. “They said I was annoying, so they sent me with him.”

You had to contain your laughter, but Geralt did not. Leave it up to Jaskier to annoy his kidnappers to the point they couldn’t stand being around him.

You were getting into the backseat of Baby when Geralt just stood there a little confused. “What are you doing? Get in!” You patted the empty seat and he hesitantly slid in.

“This is small,” Geralt commented as his eyes roamed the vessel. It sort of reminded him of a carriage without the horses.

“Faster than Roach. How is she?” A smile graced your face as you reminisced on the stead. She was the most beautiful horse and as protective over you as Geralt.

“She’s well. She misses you though.” Not as much as him though, Geralt thought.

Nuh huh. This was not gonna happen on his watch. Dean let the freakazoid get one free kiss because he was disoriented, but he be damned if he let him make moves on his woman. “Who the hell is Roach?” Dean asked, looking at the pair of you from his rearview mirror.

“My horse.” Geralt met Dean’s eyes in the mirror but for only a moment.

Dean quirked an eyebrow. “Really? you named your horse after an insect.”

“Dude, you literally named the impala Baby,” Sam slapped his shoulder.

Sam’s comment launched the brothers into an argument about Baby’s name origin. While they were having their silly argument, you leaned up and turned on the radio to drown them out.

Immediately, Jaskier was intrigued by the music coming out. You told him all about the advancements in music and promised him to show him some good music.

Dean caught the tail end of your conversation and asked Jaskier why not start his music lesson now.

Sam and your eyes went to each other. Both of you knew Dean was about to go through his expansive cassette tape collection. Sam put in his headphones while you leaned your head back, getting comfortable for your nap.

You didn’t feel Geralt pull you off Jaskier when your body slumped over on him. You didn’t feel Geralt wrapped his arms around your waist as he leaned your head on him. And you definitely didn’t feel Dean’s hot gaze staring at your conjoined bodies.

Tagging: @deansblackbeauty​ @dark-night-sky-99​ @brownsugarcoffy​ @jinaaaannnnn @amethyst09​ @titty-teetee​ @deanscroissant​ @deansbbysblog​ @thickemadame​ @arizonalovesher​ @harrywujj

#black!reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x black!reader #dean #dean x reader #dean x black!reader #SPN #SPN FANDOM #spn fanfic #dean winchester fanfic #geralt #geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #geralt x black!reader #the witcher #the witcher fandom #the witcher fanfic #geralt fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural #Supernatural fanfic #supernatural fandom

[batfamscreaming]

Winter in Kansas [80s AU] 2/2

previously: Bruce managed to sit on the bed for a full five minutes, hands held carefully in each other and breathing slowly, heart steadying, before he locked it in place.

And he left the room, footsteps quiet as he could make them on the carpet, and went back downstairs.

--

Clark wasn't there, but his parents were. Jon was in front of the TV drinking a cup of coffee while Martha hovered behind him, both talking about expected snow before they saw Bruce

“Hey honey, can I getcha something?” She asked.

--

Bruce’s mother had been dark-haired, like him, not blond and graying like Martha. It helped. Even if he'd been hoping to catch Jon.

“...I was wondering if I could ask some stuff outside?” he said softly.

Snitches get stitches. But these two knew. He was just entering the circle. Just confirming.

--

The two of them shared a look. Like they knew exactly what this was about.

Jon sighed and set his coffee down before getting it of his chair. “Sure, Bruce. Lemme just get my shoes on.”

--

Bruce nodded, waiting patiently and not making more sound than he absolutely had to for the few moments it took.

He saw the look. He knew what it meant, too.

At the very least, he wouldn't have to ease into this.

--

Once Jon had his dirty, mud-caked boots on and a thick jacket, he stepped outside and held the door open for Bruce to follow.

“So whaddya wanna ask about, son?”

--

Bruce followed, and stepped out into the field behind Jon.

He waited until they'd walked a little before speaking, hoping the crunch of his boots and the Kansas wind might hide his words from someone else.

“...how much can he hear?”

--

Jon turned to face Bruce and hesitated, his face hard to read.

“Pretty far last he told me. I don’t know the specifics.”

His voice was low too.

He gestured for Bruce to follow him. Lead him to one of the tractors, climbed on, and started it up, but then climbed right back down. He talked only loud enough for Bruce to hear over the constant rumble and shake of the machinery.

“More noise makes it harder for him as far as I know.”

The tractor was loud, but it didn't have the same bite as cars flying past on the freeway when trying to walk down the street. He could bear it.

--

“...so that's the only way to get privacy? Clutter the sound?”

--

“I wouldn’t think of it like ‘getting privacy’, Bruce. Clark isn’t trying to hear everything for the next mile. It’s just background noise for him. He tries not to pay attention to it. It’s only when he hears things that worry him that he pays attention, or his name.”

“... Think of it like… standin’ in the middle of a freeway. Your friend is right next to you talkin’, but not raising their voice. You can’t really make anything out unless you hear something like your name, or maybe ‘help’. Words you pay more attention to without even thinkin’ about it.”

--

...he listened, and nodded, but all the same--

All the same.

“...you called me a big name out east,” Bruce said. “When we met.”

--

“Yeah,” he shifted a little on the tractor to get more comfortable. “I know about Wayne Industries. Know what happened to your folks. Was all over the news.”

--

...he nodded, then. Okay. Jon had some context, then--

“I asked a girl out last month and three gossip rags picked it up,” he said. “...my friends tell me private stuff.”

And Clark could hear through walls.

--

Jon sighed, “Are you worried he’s gonna go around telling everyone everything?” He asked, sounding like he had this conversation before. “Before you knew about it, did he go around doing that?”

“He keeps everything he hears to himself.”

--

“That doesn't mean they trusted him with it,” he said. Looking down.

He wasn't… angry. And it didn't come out angry.

But he couldn't stop sounding tired.

Everyone, always listening in. Always hearing about him without him being the one to say it.

Even in Kansas. Jon knew. No chance to say things for himself.

--

Jon sighed, “No. You’re right.”

“... But it ain’t fair to blame Clark. He never asked for any of this. When it first started he used to lock himself in closets or hold his head underwater for… way longer than anyone was comfortable with. Don’t think he slept for at least a week.”

--

“I'm not trying to blame him,” Bruce said, and… he wasn't lying.

It almost surprised him. He wasn't trying to spare this man’s feelings.

“...I'm trying to find a work-around.”

--

“You know what the best work-around I’ve come up with?” Jon said, looking down at Bruce.

“Askin’ him when not to listen.”

--

Bruce looked up at him, expression confused.

Did Jon announce when he had private conversations?

--

Jon just shrugged down at him.

“Sometimes you just gotta take someone’s word.”

--

Okay. He would.

“That include taking his word he can't control it?”

--

Jon nodded, “I know you weren’t around to see it, but my boy went through hell just trying to deal with it. He’s a lot better, and I imagine he’ll keep getting better, but right now… that’s all you can really do. Take his word.”

--

The sharp parts of Bruce’s reply seemed to sail right over Jon’s head. Maybe the tractor’s noise hid the edges in his words. He didn't know.

If there wasn't any way to do it, though, then Bruce had… no other questions to be answered like this.

--

Or maybe Jon just didn’t have the energy in him to respond to it. He looked tired, like this song and dance had happened one too many times.

“That all?”

--

...he nodded. But still, he asked, “could I make a phone call?”

--

“Sure,” Jon said, and reached to turn off the tractor. But first--

“Bruce?”

--

Bruce looked up at him.

--

“... You could do my boy a whole lotta harm with the power you have. And while I can’t force you to do anything, I will ask that you keep this to yourself.”

And then he turned off the tractor.

--

“Mr. Kent,” he said, eyes and voice too steady for a sixteen year old. “I knew he was weird two months ago. I take care of my friends.”

He climbed off the tractor with him.

--

“I’m glad to hear that.” Jon said, and climbed off after him.

He lead him back inside and to the phone that hung on the kitchen wall.

--

Bruce thanked him quietly, and took the phone off the rack to dial.

He didn't have a tractor or anything else but the TV to hide his conversation, but still, he spoke softly into the receiver, enough that the Kents on the other side of the room wouldn't get more than a few snatches of conversation.

“...have the address already? ...okay. Thanks. Bye, Alfred.”

Hung up again.

Shuffled towards the couch.

“...I realized I forgot something, so Alfred’s going to send it in a few days,” he said, assuming that was fine but informing them out of politeness all the same.

--

“Okay.” Martha said, and did pass a look to Jon, who just gave her a nod.

They had a talk.

It was fine.

… There was still no sign of Clark.

--

Clark, he figured, was probably still in his room. He hadn't heard or seen anything to suggest otherwise.

So there was only one thing to do, in the handful of hours left before dinner.

He went to the guest room and dug through his bag, pulling out a clasped wooden box, folded with hinges, and headed to Clark’s bedroom door. And knocked.

--

It took a moment, but Clark did open his bedroom door.

The light was off and his eyes were a little puffy, like he’d been crying but stopped a short while ago.

He hesitated, but did step aside a little to let Bruce in.

“Hey.”

--

Bruce stepped in.

“So,” he said, skipping through pleasantries. “You are: stronger, faster, and have better hearing than me. And you can fly and reportedly burn people with your eyes.”

He sat on the floor without ceremony, and unhooked the box to let the game pieces all fall out, and reveal the pattern underneath.

“So, the next question is: do you know how to play chess?”

--

Clark flicked on the light out of habit whenever someone came inside.

“... Kinda?” He said, watching Bruce plop down on the rug. Like the question confused him.

--

Bruce nodded, starting to set up the chess board. “Kinda? You know how each piece moves?”

--

“Yeah.” He said, and sat down across from him.

--

“Cool. You fine if I take black?”

--

“Go ahead.” Clark shook his head.

--

Bruce took black and made the first move.

And they played chess.

--

Clark knew enough about chess to play, but he was by no means any sort of champion.

Eventually though, he did ask; “Are you mad at me?”

--

“Did you do anything I should be mad about?” Bruce asked, mostly focused on going easy on Clark and playing at his level.

He wondered if he could get this game to a draw.

--

“Be a freak.” He said bluntly.

--

“...” Bruce moved one of his pawns.

He has secrets bubbled up inside of him that he doesn't need to pour out. They aren't his to give. If he can find distaste in Clark overhearing secrets accidentally, he can't console himself in spilling them full-knowing.

So instead, he says, “I've met worse people.”

--

Clark just sighed, like what Bruce said didn’t mean anything.

But he didn’t say anything and continued to half-heartedly play chess. After each move he would pull his arms into himself, hugging them, like out of the two he was the most vulnerable even if it was anything but.

--

...Bruce watched. Saw Clark tugging his arms in on himself. Saw him curled between moves.

“...what are you so scared of?” he asked. Finally. When it was clear things weren't getting better.

--

“Everyone,” he said.

“... After the- the shooting, and whenever I’d do something that no real person should be able to do, Ma and Pa would sit me down and remind me that I needed to keep it to myself. That I had to be a ‘normal human teenager’, even if it was just an act, because what if someone told the wrong person. What if they came swooping down in helicopters to drag me out of the house and go seal me in some secret underground bunker somewhere to stab me with needles.”

“And I try. I try but it’s hard. I run too fast and hear too much. It’s like I’m constantly holding my breath and I can never breathe because if I did someone will hear and drag me away.”

--

….

Bruce nodded.

“Yeah,” he said. “...that's…”

God.

God.

He hadn't expected to hear that.

Hear that fear out of Clark’s mouth. The same raw level of fried nerves that knotted in his shoulders and let him wanting to scream, but unable to.

“...I…” God. Fuck. He's spent one day in Smallville, away from Tommy and the pap, and he's falling apart like Gotham was a mould desperately trying to help him hold his shape. “I'm scared of everyone, too.”

--

Clark was trying not to cry again. His eyes were glazed over. He wiped at them before anything could come out and looked over at Bruce.

“Why?” He asked, confused.

He didn’t know of all the things his friend was scared of.

--

To be fair to Clark, it was a very long list.

“Everyone in Gotham knows me,” he said, face the same carefully controlled expression he usually had when he was trying to explain something on their homework, or when speaking to the teachers and adults. “...and they know what I'm worth. I wasn't kidding about kidnappings. They've happened before.”

“...I bribed someone when I was ten. To stay with Alfred,” he continued. “...they wanted to take me away. There's a lot of people who are counting down until I'm eighteen and have access to the money. A lot of people want it.”

“...I just want my family back. And to not feel like every street I walk down’s going to have a mugger with a gun on it.”

...he looked up, and met Clark’s wet eyes with his own, darker, exhausted ones.

“...it sounds nice. To have a friend I don't have to worry about being shot.”

--

Clark finally managed a little bit of a smile.

Friend.

“... Sorry. I didn’t realize having so much money would be such a problem. But it makes a lot of sense. To me that whole… life… just, they show it on TV like it’s anything but a problem. Don’t have to worry about the crop doing well or the cows dyin’ to depend on whether you’re gonna have to cut corners and stuff.”

“I try ‘n do what I can with what I have to help out. Heavy lifting. Lookin’ for engine problems where Pa can’t see. That kinda stuff. I tried to convince them to just let me fly to Gotham too, to cut on bus faire, but they said no.”

He made his move and swallowed.

“I wanna help people, Bruce. That’s why I went to that house and ended up…”

Clark didn’t finish his sentence.

“But whenever I do I just get scolded. And I’m scared that someone will find out it’s me, and then that’d be the end of it.”

--

Bruce listens.

He's still watching Clark’s eyes, and his mouth, and he can't imagine this boy doing what they say he's done.

“Kent,” he says, with steel in his tone. “I would've given anything for someone to get in the way and burn the man who killed my family’s arms off.”

--

Clark smiled a little.

Validation.

…

“I don't regret it. At all. If it happened again I'd do the same thing. Even though I'm scared of being taken away. It'd be worth it, I think.”

--

Bruce picked up one of the chess pieces he'd captured and threw it at Clark’s head.

“Don't be stupid.”

--

It connected but Clark just let it.

“Huh?”

--

Bruce gave him a glare, though it wasn't a particularly intense one.

“You can't do it one time and get taken away so the next guy has a clear shot,” he said. “So next time, don't get caught.”

Geez.

--

He blinked, “So like… do it and run? They'll still see me though and tell the cops.”

--

“No, like don't do it so they know you're an alien,” Bruce said, like it was obvious. “As much as they deserve their arms burned off, it might get suspicious.”

--

Clark gave him a look. “As soon as they shoot me and I don't die they'll know something is messed up.”

--

“Then wear a mask,” he said, leaning forwards, an odd light in his eyes. “Be so alien they can't imagine you're who you really are.

--

Clark looked a mix of shocked and excited. “Like… a comic book hero?”

--

Bruce wasn't sure what the expression on his own face was. “Sure?”

--

… He made his move and didn’t say anything for a few minutes.

“I used to pretend I was one when I was little. I think that’s why I learned to fly before, y’know, all the other stuff.”

What kid didn’t want to fly?

--

...Bruce looked down at the board and quietly moved his piece, too.

“...I lied to you before. About where I'm going when I'm eighteen.”

--

Clark looked up at him but definitely wasn’t mad.

“... You know where you wanna go?”

--

“...I wanna learn how to hunt people down,” he admitted, head low.

--

“... Like… a detective?”

That didn't seem bad or even a little out of character for Bruce.

--

…

“Maybe,” he said. He didn't really have a word for what he wanted.

But Clark used to pretend he was a comic book hero…?

Bruce dropped his gaze again.

“...I found a cave, when I was a kid,” he said. “I fell inside while walking. I used to pretend I lived inside it. A monster. Who would come out and hurt the people who deserved it.”

…

“It's stupid, now.”

He was stupid.

But he was still going to go.

Going to find someone dangerous and powerful, and say teach me how.

--

“That's not stupid.” Clark said, taking his turn.

“... Well, maybe the eating part. But wanting to track people down and make them pay isn't stupid. It's what we're doing now kinda. Looking into the Court of Owls.”

--

“...yeah,” Bruce said. Nodding. “...do you think we’ll find them?”

--

“... I’m not sure, honestly.” Clark admitted. “I feel like we’re finding something deeper but I dunno if it’s the Court of Owls.”

“Just gotta keep diggin’ to find out.”

--

...Bruce nodded.

He took a breath.

“....you're in check, by the way.”

--

“Oh.”

He made his move.

…

“You’re going easy on me.” He smirked.

--

“Yep,” Bruce said, moving a piece on the opposite side of the bored and giving Clark time to escape. “Don't feel bad. I've been playing Tommy for years. Only recently started to give him a run for his money.”

--

Clark huffed, “I don’t feel bad. I know you’re way out of my league.”

It took him a few seconds, but he made his move.

--

...he moved another piece.

“...does that bother you?”

--

‘Maybe a little,’ Clark thought.

But Bruce didn’t even like guys. He knew that after seeing what happened with Tommy.

“Nah,” he said instead with a smile. “I’m just glad you put up with the redneck from Kansas.”

--

Bruce huffed.

“What's that got to do with chess? You guys not play board games out here?”

--

Clark gave him a look.

“Do Kenny ‘n Pete look like they’d play chess?”

--

“Kenny ‘n Pete look like they play tic tac toe,” he said.

--

Clark let out a laugh that could have melted a room.

“Yeah, basically.”

…

“God. I’m sorry about them.”

--

Bruce gave him a confused look.

“...that they have big mouths?” He said. Because, yeah. He was sorry for that, too.

Or was it a flawed intimidation tactic? Hazing?

Not speaking to him for half the day?

--

“Yeah. Big mouths and I think they were just trying to throw you off. Maybe they were kinda mad I made friends back in Gotham and then brought them with me? They’ve been my friends for a long time. Probably know more about me than my parents in some cases.”

--

“They shouldn't have thrown you under the bus like that,” Bruce said, and that was all he could say about them without saying anything cruel.

He moved the chess piece.

--

“Yeah I’m-- I’m pretty pissed at them right now.” He sighed, watching the board.

“Really thought you’d hate me.”

--

“...” yet again, he found himself asking, “why?”

...Clark kept saying that. ‘I thought you'd hate me.’ Why was he so certain? Why…

--

… Clark shrugged.

“I dunno. I’m not a super interesting person or anything and then you throw the whole ‘alien’ thing into the mix. It’s just-- it seems easier to just… hate? I dunno.”

He made his move.

“I’m dumb.”

--

….yeah. Bruce nodded. “Yeah. You are, huh.”

He moved in kind.

“...I take care of my friends.”

--

Clark smiled.

“Me too.”

Made his move.

“So just let me know if you need to move something really heavy.” He joked.

Kinda.

--

Bruce nodded.

“I'll get you renovating the manor grounds in no time.”

“Check, by the way.”

--

He scoffed and watched it happen.

“That a job offer, Mr. Wayne?”

--

“...I can pay ya under the table, but it might damage my reputation,” he said.

--

He looked confused, “Why would that damage your reputation?”

--

Bruce looked up. “...it's black market activity,” he said. “Which is fine on a small scale, but if I was paying someone I’d have to report it.”

--

“Oh, I see what you mean.” He snorted.

--

…he managed a smile about it. “Yeah. I don't exist on a small scale.”

--

Clark didn’t say much to that, and made his move.

… Eventually their game would end and it would be time for dinner.

--

Bruce would go downstairs, and eat with the Kent family for dinner. And--

...and try to not feel strange. Or an outsider. But… it wasn't impossible, in a strange way.

...he knew Clark’s secret, too, now. And it made it easier to slide into a place like this.

Insular.

--

Maybe things were easier for now. They did certainly seem easier for Clark’s parents, and as they started to sit down around the dinner table Jon would ask; “Everythin’ good now, gentlemen?”

And Clark would look over at Bruce and then smile a little and nod.

--

Bruce nodded, “yessir,” and…

It was nice. Even with knowing Clark might hear anything.

Somehow, he still felt a little more free.

--

They had a nice dinner. Jon asked Bruce things occasionally, mostly about how Gotham was, how he liked it. He didn’t ask about parents or business. Just typical kid stuff like school and how it was going. They avoided talk of Clark’s incident completely.

Things around the Kent house were extremely ‘normal’ considering. It was like… bizarre interlaced with normal, and now that Bruce was in on it they didn’t need to worry.

After dinner Jon asked Clark to come help him get one of the tractors out from a mud hole it was stuck in, and if Bruce watched he would see Clark lift the front up and simply back the whole thing up.

--

...and Bruce would watch. From the porch, regular, hot tea in a mug. And he would watch Clark lift the tractor and say nothing.

His friend was an alien. And he wasn't sure, exactly, why he was taking it so well.

...when they came back in, they watched TV and got ready for the night. And… Bruce wondered, faintly, if Clark would hear if he had a nightmare tonight.

But he didn't.

Not tonight.

--

Clark could, but… Bruce had nightmares semi-frequently. It wasn’t polite to encroach on that or bring it up, so he didn’t.

Trust that he’ll give you privacy.

That morning the sun would rise and the day on the farm started even earlier. Jon was up and out of the house before the sun was up and when it did finally rise breakfast would start to be made.

Bacon and eggs with toast.

…

When Bruce came down Clark wouldn’t be there.

--

Bruce found he hadn't been given a time to wake up, and so he woke on his own--fatigued still, but only in the way of waking up in new places--with the clock saying an hour earlier than when he usually woke at school. It was still a dark, and he lay in bed, enjoying the ability to not have to get up immediately. He started his way downstairs when he began to smell food and an unusual amount of sun (in other words: any amount of sun) hit his windows.

“Good morning, Ms. Kent,” he began with, obviously. “...Clark sleep in?”

--

“No I think he’s up already.” Martha said. “He likes to sit on the roof when the sun comes up. He’ll come down soon now that you’re up.”

“How d’you like your eggs?”

--

“Scrambled dry,” he said, and… didn't have to question how Clark would know he was up.

“Okay.”

--

Martha nodded and cracked open the eggs for his breakfast. “You sleep okay?”

There was a small thud on the front steps before the door opened and Clark came inside wearing little more than pajama pants. It would be the first time Bruce had seen him in less than two layers.

It became obvious why.

He was… kind of jacked.

He didn’t look cold either despite the temperatures outside.

--

...what the fuck.

But Bruce kept his mouth shut. His heart sped a little, but slowed again a moment or two later.

“...morning.”

--

“Mornin’.” Clark mumbled, scratching his stomach and instantly rooting in the fridge.

Two cups.

“Y’want OJ or milk?”

--

For eggs?

“Orange juice,” Bruce says, watching him.

--

Clark shook up the OJ and poured Bruce a glass before handing it over to him, but he went for milk.

“Mind puttin’ some bread in for toast? ‘N get the butter out, please.” Martha said, and Clark did as he was asked without complaint.

Martha plated Bruce’s eggs and handed them over, then pulled the towel off the plate in the middle piled with bacon. “Help yerself.”

--

“Thanks,” he said, startled out of his observations for a moment, and--

He was watching two things, a little lost in them both, but at least they were all in this one place. Just--on one hand, caught in the mundanity, in a mother asking her son to pull out the toast and bread, and on the other hand, a small thing in the back of his mind which informed him that Clark’s stomach muscles twisted every time he moved his arm.

He waited until he was joined at the table to even think about eating.

--

Clark made some toast and put it on a plate for them to grab from and by the time he sat down too his eggs were finished.

Sunny side up.

He thanked his mom as he sat down and started to dig in.

“Just cover the bacon back up when you’re done, I’m gonna run out and help your daddy.” Martha said, taking a sip from her coffee before leaving the two eating on their own.

--

Bruce started to eat as Clark joined him, thanking Ms. Kent again, and…

…

“You always sleep without a top here?” he asked, losing his shit completely with a straight face.

--

Clark was busy shoving a strip of bacon in his mouth. “Uh-” He chewed and swallowed.

“Yeah. I like the sun on my skin when I get up.”

--

Oh. Okay. There wasn’t anything wrong with that, so he just--nodded and got his own piece or two of bacon.

And kept eating.

“...plans for today?”

--

Clark shrugged a little and put some ketchup on his eggs before breaking them up. “Dunno. Usually I hang out with Kenny ‘n Pete on my days off, but…” he glanced up at Bruce.

“Not feelin’ that anytime soon.”

…

“Thought about just… flyin’ around for awhile. Haven’t been able to do that in Gotham. But that’d leave you here unless you’re fine with coming.”

--

Bruce was ready to tell him he was fine with just reading a book for a while, but--

“...with coming along for flying?”

--

“Yeah. I’d carry you. Like, it’s fine if you’re scared though. It’s pretty weird. But figured it was impolite not to offer.” Clark said, pushing runny egg mess on his bread and eating it.

--

Bruce stared at him like he was crazy.

“Take me flying,” he said.

--

… Clark grinned with a mouthful of toast and a bit of ketchup on his lips. “O-kay.”

--

He was stupid and (buff, and Bruce wanted to lean over with a napkin and shove it on Clark’s lips to get rid of that dumb ketchup) absolutely intentionally being dense, because who didn’t want to fly, even if you had to be carried?

But instead, he said, “Shut up and eat faster,” and started shoveling his breakfast down in kind.

--

Clark grinned and did just that, shoveling his food down and eating toast and bacon before standing up and chugging his milk.

Shirtless.

He put the plate in the sink and wiped his mouth with his hand.

“Dress warm, it gets cold.”

--

Bruce felt something in his stomach flip, and he nodded, running back upstairs to tug on his winter boots and add on another layer and his heavy coat. Clark’s borrowed winter hat. His good gloves.

And he was ready.

--

Clark got dressed too and then met Bruce back downstairs a moment later. He opened the door out to the porch, stepped off the front step and… float there, spinning around as if in water to face Bruce with his hands in his pockets.

“Piggyback or in my arms?”

--

“Arms,” Bruce said, not wanting a piggyback--he was sixteen, not a kid, after all. It didn’t matter if Clark could carry him fine.

--

“Okay.”

Clark hovered close again and reached out, hand going around Bruce’s waist and pulling him close. He pressed himself against Bruce and locked his hands around the small of his back. Waited for Bruce to position his hands how he wanted.

… He might have been enjoying this a little too much.

“Ready?”

--

...somehow, Bruce didn’t realize he was going to be held like this in Clark’s arms. He knew they’d go around him, but--face to face, he guessed he hadn’t expected, and found his face close enough to smell Clark’s neck as he wrapped his arms around his shoulders securely.

Even through his heavy layers, he could feel Clark’s body, unusually warm against him.

Despite having just drunk orange juice, his mouth was dry. He told himself it was nerves.

“Ready.”

--

Clark smiled at him and then looked up.

And they started to rise, slow at first. Clark kept his grip firm and make sure Bruce didn’t slip, and soon they were over the roof of the the farmhouse. He started to fly away from it, legs angling as if to ‘push’ away from the farm.

Over the empty fields.

--

Once they were up in the air, Bruce… forgot.

He forgot about a lot of things. About how he was sort of uncomfortable being this close to anyone, or how he was fully clothed and Clark was half undressed in his PJs, or what was going on back home.

There was nothing under his feet. It was just-- a moment. A moment of disorientation, and realizing the air was cold and sharp with wind, and how empty the air was around him. That flying was just falling interrupted.

And Clark’s firm chest against his own was the only thing the world that felt stable at that moment.

He wanted to see the fields. The farmhouse. The long shadows, stretching over the yellow, frost-bitten fields.

But before that, before getting lost in wonder, staring-- he tightened his grip on Clark, and held himself close against him.

--

It was nice to be held so tightly by someone who wasn’t his mom or dad. He couldn’t even recall a time that had ever happened before. He kept people at an arm’s length for his own safety, and even when he did let them in there was still that fear of rejection. But last night Bruce had insisted and insisted that he wasn’t mad, that they were still friends, that it didn’t change anything.

When he got to the point he wanted and started to fly backwards gently, to really get in the whole view of the farm, he looked back down at Bruce with that award-winning smile.

“Whaddya think?”

--

“It’s big,” Bruce called back over the wind.

But he couldn’t… think of anything else to say about it. And maybe the new-day sun in his eyes said enough. The way it hit his ghost-pale face in the way it never could reach in Gotham.

There weren’t skyscrapers here. The long shadows ran only along the ground, far, far below them, cast by regular-sized objects, not buildings made by giants.

And the sky was in every direction he looked.

Big.

Blue.

Beauti--

--

Maybe looking back on this day when he was older would be when he said he started to love Bruce Wayne, but right now he still didn't quite realize it. Even as he looked down at the other boy rather than the scenery, watching how the light illuminated his pale skin and tired, sharp eyes. There was a fierceness to Bruce he had never seen from anyone else. Fierce and ironclad in everything he wanted to be.

“Yeah, it is.” Is all he said though, and would slowly continue to hover backwards, getting further away, then go a little left towards the trees that marked their property.

You could see the roads. The buildings in the distance. Cars driving along. Birds flew beside them a safe distance away.

And somehow Clark shined just like the sun, curls blowing in the wind and arms secure around Bruce's waist.

--

Bruce didn’t say much while they were up there, focusing on breathing in the cold wind and staring down at all the world below in a way he’d never really been able to before.

Not like this. Alone and secure, without airplane walls around him.

(Even if he wasn’t alone at all.)

...but Clark would still be able to hear his heart beat, strong and excited with the world below, pressed against his bare chest with just the coat between them.

...but Gothamite he might’ve been, Bruce still could only stand the cold against his face for so long before his cheeks started turning pink and windburnt.

--

Clark might not have been able to feel the cold like Bruce, but he could see it.

“Gonna start going down.” He warned, and did just that. A slow descent left and down…

… and they were back on the porch, feet touching down.

--

A little wobbly, Bruce pulled away once his feet touched the floor-- not because of anything bad, but because as soon as the wind wasn’t rushing him anymore, he realized he desperately had to wipe his nose, or it would drip out everywhere.

“Tissue,” he mumbled.

--

Clark was… a little hesitant to let go, but as soon as Bruce pulled away he let him go.

“... Oh! Yeah, c'mon.” Clark said, arm leading Bruce back inside.

There was a tissue box right by the door.

--

Bruce hid his nose in his face until he was able to get to the tissue box and snatch one out, blowing his nose.

“Danks,” he said.

--

“No problem. I forget that's a thing that happens.”

Clark's skin hadn't changed even a little.

Chalk that up to another power; resistance to cold.

--

Bruce noticed Clark’s immunity, but didn’t say anything about it really. He just focused on blowing his nose, and once he was done, rubbing his cheeks to warm them up again.

“...you never get sick or stuff, either?”

--

“Uh,” Clark began as he walked to the kitchen to make something warm for Bruce.

“Not since I was little. Mom says when I was a baby I struggled a lot. Like I couldn't breathe. But I don't really get cold anymore. I can't get burnt. Can stick my hand right in a fire and nothing. Can grab hot pans.”

“It's like--” he shrugged. “Invulnerability?”

--

...Bruce had honestly just been wondering if Clark was affected by bacteria at all, but… that was a lot more than he’d asked for.

“...not anything?”

--

It was nice to just… talk about it with someone. Sure his friends knew, but… they always asked him weird questions about it. Like if he looked at people naked.

“Well getting shot hurt, but other than something like that? Nope.” Clark put on some water for tea.

--

...Bruce didn’t question it, even if he did watch Clark a little longer, lingering.

...he realized now that he looked at Clark, that… he didn’t have any marks on his skin.

Not a mole. Not a freckle. Not a paper-thin scar.

And he’d been shot.

“...I can’t tell at all,” he said, maybe a little breathless, watching Clark’s back as he filled the water.

--

“Revolver hit me here--” he said, turning and pointing at his face. “Shotgun hit me here--” he pointed at his arm and chest.

“Gave me a black eye and broken nose and a lot of cuts. But they healed pretty fast. No scars or anything.” Clark shrugged. “Worst anyone's been able to do too me. I've fallen out of trees and moving cars and jumped out of two story windows and mostly been fine.”

He gave a sheepish smile.

--

Bruce found his arm going up to his neck, fist tight, and tried not to think about the hole that he’d seen punch through his mother.

He had scars on his arms right now. He had cuts healing right now. And Clark had jumped out of buildings and been shot and leapt out of moving cars--

“Why did you jump out of a moving car and a two story window??”

--

Clark laughed, “Well the car thing was I saw a dog and I was like… five. Really gave my folks gray hair for that one. And I jumped out of my bedroom window when they grounded me once and didn't quite have flying down yet. But I landed okay!” He gave Bruce a dumb grin and thumbs up.

--

Bruce buried his face in his hands.

--

Clark just laughed again and pulled the kettle off the stove to pour them both some tea.

“Genius alien from beyond the stars.” He joked.

“Really though I’m just…” he shrugged. “Just a kid on a farm who can’t get a date or pass his driving test, or… y’know.”

--

He didn’t know. But he nodded anyway.

“Yeah,” he said. And he wanted to say he was just normal, too.

But he could get a date, and wasn’t a farm kid, and could drive, just not legally.

…

“...wanna be lazy normal and just watch some TV?”

--

“Hell yeah.” Clark grinned and handed him his tea.

--

...the first day or two had been rough, but it grew easier with each passing day.

The Kents didn’t ask him about his family. They just… brought him to the table. Clark did alien things, and human things, and mostly reading-and-TV things.

They had a Christmas tree, and bit by bit presents appeared under it as the Christian Holiday grew closer. And, to Bruce’s relief, one such present arrived in the mail with a little bit of time to spare.

He’d been invited to Christmas parties before, but he’d never really celebrated with his family that he could remember--what he did remember was mixed up with Chanukah somewhat, with how young he’d been at the time. And though he was fairly sure the Kanes celebrated both, they only really invited him for things like Pesach and Sukkot.

So it was… the first time he’d really seen a family Christmas in person, rather than through every movie and pop culture magazine in the world.

...it was much quieter than he’d been led to believe, when the day finally did come, and he wondered, briefly, how the Kents had managed to tell Clark about a magical flying man in the sky when he was a child, or if they’d let him know Santa Claus was a fictional character to avoid accidental alien imprinting.

--

The day Christmas arrived there was a bit more of a set time to get up, but things still moved the same as they had been.

The sun rose and Jon tended to the cows, but then would be inside for the remainder of the day unlike his usual sparse appearances throughout. They made pancakes for breakfast and waited until everyone was sat around the table together to eat.

After breakfast was time for presents, a few under the tree for Clark, some for his parents, and…

Martha handed a little box to Bruce too.

--

...it was nice. It was still approximately like a regular day, which was a little strange, but it was nice. He ate the breakfast with his usual appreciation and followed to the livingroom around the tree once it was done, watching.

Bruce took the little box with a quiet ‘thank you,’ and smiled. Most of the gifts around the tree were for Clark, but that was fine.

...After a bit of confusion, Bruce had brought his presents down a day or two before. One for Jon. One for Martha.

Two for Clark--one of them being the little package that had arrived in the mail a few days earlier.

The first three presents Bruce had picked out while in Gotham, asked Alfred to purchase and wrap, and had brought them on the train himself on the way to Smallville.

He hoped they were fine.

...for Ms Kent, before knowing her name, he’d gotten a blue sapphire necklace with matching earrings. Not especially expensive, so it wouldn’t feel condescending or she couldn’t find things to wear them with. Not so cheap it looked bad coming from him.

For Jon, it’d been a little easier.

High quality black leather gloves with a matching sidebag.

… and for Clark, he’d… for the first present, he’d simply gotten him an autobiography of one of the muckrakers who’d lived through the mob wars of the 20s and 30s.

...it was the second present, in a much smaller box, that had Bruce anxious.

--

Jon and Martha kept insisting that he didn’t have to get them anything of course. They were very impressed by the gifts though, Jon giving a rather genuine smile and Martha leaning over to give him a hug in thanks.

Clark really liked the book too, and it actually took him a moment to put it down and pick up the second present that Bruce had given him.

“Another one?” He asked, a little surprised while pulling off the wrapping.

--

Bruce nodded and… looked down a little.

...inside the box, there were what looked to be hearing aids. Pale, thin, and mechanical.

“...they’re sound blockers,” he said softly. “...you said Gotham was too loud for you. And what you said about three miles, I figured…”

…

“You don’t have to use them.”

--

Clark clearly didn’t know what they were before Bruce said anything, but then the realization hit him.

“... Oh. Wow, Bruce.” He said, pulling them out. “That’s… really cool.”

“How do you put them on?” He asked, already trying.

--

Oh.

Bruce brightened a little, and shuffled closer, sliding until their knees knocked together.

“Here,” he said, taking the first one from Clark’s hand and brushing away his hair to get a good view of his ear.

He slid it in carefully, looping the hook that made it appear so much like a hearing aid over Clark’s ear.

“No one should question it, since it looks like a regular thing.”

--

Clark leaned in closer to help him and… maybe kinda stayed there a little longer just so he could be closer to Bruce while he helped put them in.

“This is really cool.” He said again, voice quiet.

“Finally gonna be able to sleep.” He laughed, a little joking and a little not.

--

Bruce smiled a little, glad Clark liked them so much. “They working?”

--

He went quiet and focused, a smile spreading over his face. “I can’t hear the cows.”

Martha looked like she might start crying.

--

Bruce grinned wide, something warm spreading through his chest.

“You like them?”

--

“Yeah. I really do.” Clark grinned.

…

He leaned over and pulled Bruce into a hug.

--

For a moment, Bruce was startled, freezing up in the sudden hold.

...then, he leaned into it, closing his eyes, and finding himself melting into the hold.

--

… Clark found he really didn’t want it to end, but… his parents were right there. So it had to. But while it lasted he held Bruce tight and whispered out another ‘thank you’ before pulling away.

“Wish you woulda had those when you were younger.” Martha smiled and Clark laughed.

“Yeah, really.”

--

Bruce smiled and edged away from Clark again, opening his own present quietly while the others talked.

...he felt a little better, now, knowing the gift was well received. That it wasn’t a bad idea.

...soon enough, though, January would come, and the hearing aids would be really put to the test as their return to Gotham grew closer.

--

Bruce’s gift was… less impressive, but…

“I know it ain’t your style, but…” Clark grinned.

It was a baseball cap.

A baseball cap with ‘SMALLVILLE’ embroidered across it.

“Least it’s somethin’ to remember us by.” Jon chuckled.

--

Bruce sighed deeply, eyes rolling up to the ceiling, and flipped the hat up to destroy his hair style by putting it on.

“You know what, Kent,” he said. “At least it’s not John Deere.”

--

Clark grinned and roped his arm around Bruce to give him a side-hug.

…

January would come eventually though, that was for sure. Clark would hug and kiss his parents goodbye and they would tell Bruce they loved having him, to come back any time. He was always welcome in their house.

Then it was a bus ride back to Gotham and Clark definitely packed his new hearing aids.

--

...he wasn’t sure why he was the one struggling to not get emotional once the Kents drove away, and he found himself in the bus seat, staring at the seat in front of him.

...but he was. For the first few minutes as the bus pulled out of the station, Bruce just… curled up in his seat and worked to keep his breathing steady.

And they headed back to Gotham.

…

He wouldn’t wear his ‘Smallville’ cap with him as they reached their destination late the next day, though. He’d return to the borrowed snow cap, and hide the ‘smallville’ one deep in his bag so that it couldn’t be seen.

...and as they returned to the dorms, he had a weight of dread in his chest that he wasn’t unused to, but…

It hadn’t been there the last two weeks.

And knowing Clark could hear his heartbeat just made him more anxious, now, about keeping secrets.

#aka the gay awakening #superbat #80s gay superbat #clark kent #bruce wayne

[rawiswhore]

Brian Pillman x Fem Reader- "I'm Gonna Shave You Close"

Despite that I type my fanfics in patterns, today I'm posting not one, but 2 fanfics, the next one will have Brian Pillman AND Scott Putski.

_____________________________________________________________

During a time when wrestlers in the World Wrestling Federation were playing silly, childish, cartoonish characters such as plumbers, garbage men, hockey players, 70's teen heartthrobs, and evil dentists, a wrestler named Brian Pillman made his WWF debut in 1996, and he was a breath of fresh air.

He even for a while had a stint in ECW, which during the 90's, was the edgiest, most violent, boundary pushing wrestling company that was the opposite of other kid friendly wrestling companies, and ECW preceded the WWF's Attitude era.

In a time where, if a wrestler used profanity, a commentator would have to say "we apologize for that!" afterwards, and the WWF was mostly very kid friendly, Brian Pillman pulled a gun out on Stone Cold Steve Austin and the two of them began to brawl in the driveway of Brian's home, where Stone Cold tried beating Brian's head into a cinder block.

Brian shed his Flyin' Brian Pillman character he played; a mullet headed pretty boy, and in 1996, he'd play what he'll always be remembered for playing: an unpredictable, loose cannon nutcase with a personality somewhat similar to Ren the Chihuahua from "Ren and Stimpy" when he goes crazy.

Despite Brian not playing that mullet headed pretty boy he played in WCW during the early 90's, you think Brian in 1996 is a lot sexier that year than during his time as a heartthrob in WCW.

By the end of 1996, October of that year to be exact, when in your opinion that's when he looked his sexiest by far, you were snuggled up next to him in a bed in a motel room, the light switch turned on in the room.

You and Brian were stark naked, your clothes as well as his were scattered all over the floor.

You and Brian didn't have to get naked, but you do enjoy cuddling with him as well as others in the nude.

While you and Brian were lying together in this bed sharing a blanket, your finger was tracing over the facial hair over his top lip, his little moustache feeling like a fuzzy peach.

He grinned while you ran your finger over his facial hair, your eyes looked at him.

Despite that you were cuddling with him, you were trying not to press your weight on him since he had a car accident where he fell asleep at the wheel and ended up breaking his leg.

He actually almost lost his leg and probably couldn't have joined the WWF.

"I'm glad you joined the World Wrestling Federation" you confessed to him, running your finger horizontally down the side of his mouth and shifting it under his chin, where you ran your finger vertically across the hair under his chin.

He's one of the many sexy alumni in that company.

"Really?" he asked, his face lighting up and smiling. "Thanks!"

"You're welcome" you replied, smiling back at him. "I actually think you're way sexier now than when you were in WCW"

Brian's eyes got wide when he heard that, he slightly jumped back hearing that.

"I'm not drunk or high right now" you admitted. "I really do think you're sexy"

"I know you have a crush on me" he mentioned. "Thanks"

"No problem!" you chirped "Even though you do look pretty hot with this facial hair, I've thought of shaving it"

"Why?" he asked, his face now looking confused and puzzled.

"Not just to see what you look like without it" you admitted "But...your facial hair is a little bit of a distraction and kind of...makes me unattracted to you"

He nodded his head, understanding you.

"But I'm a wrestler, not a model" he said.

"I was about to say that" you said. "The facial hair fits with your unkempt look and how you play a nutcase"

"I was gonna say what you said!" he confessed. "We think alike"

"Great minds think alike!" you chirped, smiling while you said that.

You and he chuckled and giggled after you said that, the two of you smiling at each other.

"I'd love to shave your facial hair" you admitted after you stopped laughing, your other index finger tracing across Brian's moustache over his lip.

You said that since you definitely don't wanna shave his hair on top of his head, you love his hair.

Brian isn't sure what to say about you wanting to shave him.

He probably would love it if you shaved him, though he wants to keep his facial hair.

He isn't the only one you'd love to shave...

Leif Cassidy was starting to grow a handlebar moustache at the end of 1996 and still kept it in 1997 despite still being known as Leif Cassidy.

The Leif Cassidy character was meant to be a 70's teen heartthrob, I guess, and teen heartthrobs, males especially, are known for their nonthreatening, pretty boy looks.

Leif Cassidy with that handlebar moustache looked less like a teen heartthrob and more like a serial killer.

And since when do teen heartthrobs have moustaches, especially handlebar ones?

And Leif (as well as what he'd transition to: Al Snow) was one of the many wrestlers who looks terrible with facial hair.

(Fun fact: the man who played the Leif Cassidy character also played Al Snow, yeah, THAT Al Snow that carried a decapitated mannequin head)

Triple H looked like shit with that Lemmy from Motorhead moustache he had in the mid 2000's, so did Raven when he grew that handlebar moustache at the end of the year 2000, and even when Dean Ambrose became Jon Moxley again, although with shorter hair and a beard, he didn't look like that cutie pie you remember from the WWE and CZW.

Plus, Stevie Richards from ECW and WCW didn't look too good with that facial hair he had.

Granted, Al's handlebar moustache does make him look more like the lunatic he played, Triple H and AEW-era Jon Moxley look more manly wrestlers, you could probably even say Raven's handlebar moustache fits his grungy appearance, but Triple H, Al, Raven and Dean had/have such handsome faces under that facial hair.

Even Shawn Michaels looks way hotter without facial hair than with it.

Seth Rollins used to be even hotter when he was an indie wrestler with only some facial hair at the bottom of his chin.

CM Punk in my opinion looked his hottest in the late 2000's.

You even wonder what Test and Val Venis would look like without facial hair.

#brian pillman #1996 #90s #birthday #happy birthday #wwf