jordan-shine

Favourites - Jordan Fisher x Reader

Here’s a fluffy one-shot to get you through waiting for Work Comes Home - Part 6 because I haven’t started that yet!


Request: could I request a jordan fisher fic since he is in the ham cast now??? I haven’t seen many jordan fics about. Something fluffy with maybe some smut would be great but whatever idea you have in mind is cool too :)

Word Count: 1040ish

Author’s Note: I didn’t write smut, mostly because I don’t know if I want to write it yet, so we’ll see. I hope you like it! But I agree, Jordan does need more love in the fandom. Also, I’m Canadian so some spelling will be different, we like the extra u’s, but my computer gets mad at me if I don’t add them. Like perfectionist too so I don’t like seeing the red lines on documents.

Warnings: Fluff, light swearing

Masterlist || Request


You were unpacking boxes in your new apartment, with your favourite soundtrack playing in the background. Your boyfriend and you had just moved to New York City and into an apartment together. You were starting school in the fall and Jordan decided to see if he could land any theatre gigs over the next few months.

As you unpacked, Sora was watching you dance around the room and rap terribly along to the lyrics of the Aaron Burr, Sir. You were addressing the pug as if they were Aaron Burr. You’d dance from the box grabbing an item and before placing it on the shelf. As you were rapping along, you turned around to find Jordan staring at you from the entry way, trying to contain his laughter.  

“Sora!” you addressed the dog, “Apparently, our audience doesn’t enjoy our performance.” You glared slightly at Jordan. “Such a shame, I was going to ask him to join our impromptu rendition. Guess we’ll just turn it off.”

As you reached for the speakers’ remote, you hand was grabbed by Jordan as he started singing the upcoming Lauren’s section.

“I’m John Laurens in the place to be! Two pints of Sam Adams, but I’m workin’ on three, uh!” he spun you around as he continued to rapping. Giggling, you rapped Lafayette’s next lines as you continued to dance in Jordan’s arms around the living room.

Before My Shot started playing, you both collapsed onto the couch in laughter. Sora immediately jumping into Jordan’s lap to join. As you turned the volume down on the music, Jordan glanced over at you and said, “You’re really bad at rapping.”

“Excuse me?” you replied, “Sorry for not being involved in theatre and the arts since I was a child.”

He leaned over has placed a kiss on your forehead, “Don’t worry, I like that you’re smarter than me, Miss Law student.” You watched his eyes flicker between yours.

“Good,” you replied, satisfied with his answer, “You better remember that.” He let out a burst of laughter as he stood up, he offered you his hand to help you up.

“Come on,” he said “I’ve got a surprise.” He dragged you up from the couch and out the door within minutes.

“Hurry up, Y/N!” Jordan yelled as he dragged you through Times Square by the hand.

“Where are we even going?” you replied with sigh.

He looked over his shoulder with a grin and a spark in his eyes you haven’t seen since he got the casting call for Grease: Live, “You’ll love it!”

You had been jogging slightly behind him for over 12 blocks now. You let go of his hand and stopped to catch your breath.

“Y/N! What -” he said as he turned back to you.

“Jordan,” you said in between breaths, “You know exercise and I have a delicate relationship. I just need to breath for a second.”

You soon found yourself being lifted over his shoulder, upside down and staring at Jordan’s bum. There are worse things to look at in the world.

“Jordan!” you screamed, “What are you doing?”

“Obviously, I’m carrying my girlfriend the rest of the way,” he replied, as if it was common knowledge.

You glanced around and saw a few people passing by staring at the odd scene he was making.

“Please just put me down,” you started, “I promise I’ll walk with as much enthusiasm as you want, but right now people are staring. Probably at the fact my ass is being paraded around Manhattan.”

“Let them stare!” he shouted, “Your butt is covered by clothing and besides I like your bum,” you felt his hand on your butt, “A lot. It’s one of my favourites.”

“Oh my god!” you yelled, a blush flooding your face, “Put me down right now!”

“Fine,” he said as he lowered you in front of him, keeping his hands around your waist.

“That was very uncalled for,” you said as you look up at him with your arms around his shoulders.

“Maybe, but neither of us was complaining about the view,” he said with a grin, as his hand wandered dangerously lower.

You rolled your eyes and leaned up brushing your lips against his. Your eyes closing as you enjoyed the touch of his lips against yours. You let him take over the kiss with more dominance.  As you pulled back needing to catch your break, you rested your forehead against his, noses brushing together.

“Tell me,” you whispered quietly, “Why was I dragged, then carried, out of my cozy apartment all the way to 46th Street?”

“Right!” he said, excitement rushing back into his eyes, he looked behind you quickly, “Okay, on the count of three turn around.”

He tucked a fallen tendril of hair behind your ear, “One.”

His thumb caressed your cheek, “Two.”

His other hand intertwined his fingers with yours, “Three.”

You turned around to see the Hamilton marquee, golden with its lights shining bright.

“Jordan…” you started cautiously, feeling his hand squeeze yours as you said his name. You looked over your shoulder to see him smiling and nodding.

Letting off a rambling of incoherent excitement, you jumped towards him wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He catches you and lifts you up, you instinctively wrap your legs around him. His hands somehow found their way to his favourite physical attribute on your body.

As you look down at his face, your hair creates a curtain around you both. Absentmindedly, you run your fingers through his hair, settling to gently stroke the curls at the nape of his neck. “I’m so proud of you,” you whisper, placing a soft kiss on his lips.

He lowered you back down, “I wanted to tell you in the apartment, but you were singing, and this seemed like a bigger reveal,” he said.

“Despite my ass literally being hauled out here,” you said with a grin, “I agree, this was much better. So, what part?!”

He laughed, “You’re going to love this,” he said. You started to bounce on the balls of your feet with excitement, “John Laurens and Philip Hamilton.”

Again, you couldn’t contain your excitement as you spun around quickly, before grabbing his face in both hands and placing a kiss on his lips.

Adventures of Team Dianite Chapter 1: Part 1

(fanfiction that I don’t want to put on any sites)


“Rise and shine, Jordan. As of today you’re my bitch and a ward of the almighty Dianite,” Tom hollered pounding on the guest door to the wonderful room he had built for the Ianitee. He had originally made his room a cell, but after Martha’s teasing of it being a sex dungeon… Well, Tom considered himself a perverted badass, but that crossed a weird line and red-faced he had built Jordan a proper room while he was stuck with Tom for a month.

Jordan hadn’t come to the door so Tom kept pounding. “Wakey wakey, if you don’t come to the door I’ll break it down,” Tom sang. Dianite had a mission and despite his alcohol induced insomnia he wasn’t going to be late for it. The chance of reward was too high. Besides, everything was dull with the Purge law in effect. Luckily bets and servitude could be used to recover lost items.

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6

Man Crush Monday: Michael B. Jordan

Every Monday I will be listing my own MCM. Not just based on their killer looks but also their killer style. My first MCM has to go to Michael B. Jordan who starred in my films and TV series such as Friday Night Lights, Parenthood, Chronicle and Fruitvale Station. 

Not only does he have charm, wit and that beautiful smile but his style is always %100. From the red carpet to the front pages of every magazine, Michael B. Jordan always shine!

Will you be the next admin of FY LGBTQ Black people?

Hey everyone, thanks for all your submissions and participating on this tumblr. I started this as a way of seeing positive representation of Black people who weren’t straight or cisgender. 

Since then, I have seen various different blogs pop up all over this site, serving specific niches of our community. I have felt truly lucky to participate in that conversation. 

After some careful reflection, I have decided that I will stop curating this blog as of January 1, 2017. I don’t quite have the energy right now, and beginning of 2017, I will have many more things to take on/take over. 

Because of this, I’m putting a call out for anyone who feels like they would like to run this Fuck Yeah LGBTQ Black people. 

You have until December 30th, 2016 to respond. (You can just send an ask or submit something.) 

I hope to hear from someone, but either way, I will stop actively curating this blog on January 1st, 2017. 

Thank you and keep on shining. 

Jordan (Admin behind Fuck Yeah LGBTQ Black people)

remembering is hard, can i just forget instead?

Anonymous asked:  Lydia (post-18th birthday) getting a concussion somehow when she found a body, Jordan finds her unconscious and takes her to the hospital, where they find out she has amnesia. When she first wakes up, she sees Jordan holding her hand and she sees how handsome he is and asks if they’re dating, but he sees the light in her eyes when she says it and before he has time to think much, he says yes and goes with it for a while. Lots of comfort and fluff. (x)

Author’s Note: 
I went way overboard with this fic and I apologize ahead of time for the ridiculous length of this, but I really got into the prompt and what can I say, this was the result of that. The original poster asked for lots of comfort and fluff, but I’m not sure if I managed to achieve that. This is the longest fic I’ve wrote, at 7.6k words and I’m really proud of it and I hope you guys like it too. Throw me in a dumpster because I’m trash.

Read it on AO3 here. (x)


There are ten missed calls from Lydia Martin on Jordan’s phone. 

Ten missed calls and a single text message, that has nothing but everything at the same time, an address to a place he’s aware of–an old warehouse just near the Beacon Hills preserve. Jordan tightens his grip on the steering wheel, clenches his jaw, and steps on the gas pedal as he speeds down the deserted highway back to town in the police cruiser. His mind’s a mess and he can’t think straight, because Lydia won’t answer her phone and no matter how hard he tries not to, his mind keeps thinking the worst.

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