#and mostly he is abusive to my mom and then the rest of us is by association. but it still does get bad when she’s not around too | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

strawbeerossi · 5 months

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You Think, Genius?

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: Being friends with Spencer Reid is an adventure within itself. Movie nights are no exception.

Content/Warnings: Friends type humor, tension, mention of food/food fight, best friends to lovers trope, heavy kissing, very sweet smut (wild because I hardly write that, I feel like lmao).

Word Count: 2.7k

Anon Request: spencer reid x sarcastic funny reader? not mean but like kinda like Chandler from friends humour? with earlish seasons reid (season 3/4)ish cute smut. ADDING TO THE SARCASTIC!READER SHE AND SPENCE HAVE A BESTFRIENDS TO LOVERS ARC 🫶🫶

Navigation || Criminal Minds Masterlist || Request

RIP Matthew Perry, thank you for playing the king of sarcasm and being my inspiration for this. 🩷

“Serial killers and childhood neglect have actually been linked together for years. Some of the most notorious serial killers were abused in some shape or fashion at home. Which makes sense whenever you take into account how easy it is to psychologically break a person and cause them to shut down, children being more receptive than most adults.” Spencer rambled on about some study he had been reading about.

Everyone was mostly tuned out besides you, your left hand holding the travel size cereal box up in clear view, your eyes wide. “That explains why I can’t stop eating this cereal! My mom made my life a living hell and now, all I think about is cereal. Oh god.” You said in a sarcastic tone, causing Derek to chuckle from his desk.

“She’s a cereal killer.” He joked while you both were giggling, making Spencer look between you and Derek, a confused expression on his face.

“She’s not a serial killer. I don’t think she’d be working here if she was one.”

The laughter continued on at your coworker’s obliviousness. “No, Spence,” JJ shook her head as she approached your chair, gently taking the little box before holding it up. “The joke is that she’s eating cereal. Cereal killer.” The blonde explained as you were turning back to Spencer.

“Oh, it’s no joke. I’ve got six bodies in my apartment right now. Just waiting to get home to do away with them.” You continued on, a little snort leaving your lips as you were getting your cereal back.

As you were pushing a handful in your mouth, you watched as Spencer looked at you with his head tilted to the side. “You haven’t killed anyone. I know that for a fact. You’re too nice.” He said while he was tapping his pen against his desk, JJ let out a huff and waved him off before she was walking away from your desk to get to her office.

“Isn’t there such a thing as killing people with kindness? That is my big move. I will be nice to them and boom,” You punched the palm of your hand to appear menacing. “I go in for the kill.”

Spencer was shaking his head with a soft giggle at the mere idea of it, your sarcasm slowly seeping through the cracks in an obvious way where he could see it.

“Right. How foolish of me to not understand it.” He joked softly while looking back down to the page he’d been doodling on. Your humor was new to Spencer, something he wasn’t really used to. You were a very sarcastic person, hardly ever having a conversation without injecting the encounter with your wit and sarcasm. He was still pretty clueless with it, however he felt he was getting better. Especially now that you had him saying his own sarcastic phrases at random times. It was weird for the rest of the team seeing the way you’d slowly brought Spencer out of that little bubble he was used to.

He was always the one who didn’t understand jokes or take sarcasm, appearing confused a good chunk of his career from the jokes and lighthearted banter. Being friends with you was a good way to learn how to understand though, which was why he was so lucky that you were his best friend.

“I was thinking of watching a movie. Do you wanna join me?” You asked, packing up your things as you looked over at Spencer as he raised an eyebrow.

“Tonight?” He asked, making you shake your head.

“No. Next week.” You answered with a deadpan expression while he crinkled his nose.

“You’re.. Being sarcastic..” He began while you rolled your eyes fondly with a smile.

“You think, genius? Come on, are you gonna come over or not?” You asked while putting your bag over your shoulder.

“I don’t see why not. Can we watch that new show that’s airing tonight?” He asked curiously, already following you out of the bullpen. He knew you’d give him a ride rather than sending him to go on the metro and meet you there later.

“Sure. I’ve been interested in it anyway. The new sci-fi one, right?” You asked as you made it to the parking garage with him as you were both in search of your car.

“Yes! It actually looks very interesting because from what I’ve read, they don’t make up their own rules as they go. They are using actual scientific data and evidence.” He gushed while you were clapping your hands together.

“Like learning in school! Oh how I loved school!” You were laughing as he had taken notice of the sarcasm and nudged your arm.

“Seriously. It’s going to be great! You may not think it now but you’ll enjoy it while learning about the real world when it comes to tech and space exploration.”

“We’ll have to see about that Dr. Reid.”

The ride back to your apartment was peaceful, the sounds of some radio station filling the quiet atmosphere of the car as you passed by numerous street signs. The comfortable silence was something you liked, never needing to strike up a conversation to enjoy Spencer’s company. Even if he was just reading while you were on your phone.

Back at your apartment, you’d just gotten the channel you needed pulled up, having about ten minutes until the show was supposed to air. Spencer made sure to tape it back at his own apartment, wanting to go back and watch alone to fully appreciate the show for more than its entertainment quality.

“Do you want me to run to the kitchen and get snacks?”

“You don’t have to run, Reid. You can walk.”

“Ha ha. So funny. Snacks or not?”

You were waving him off with a little laugh, offering a smile. “Yeah, yeah. Please go get some snacks. I think I have a big bag of that buttered popcorn you’re obsessed with.”

Spencer practically skipped to the kitchen upon hearing the news, retrieving one of your mixing bowls from one of your cupboards. After filling it up generously with the snack of choice, he was stopped by the fridge to grab two water bottles. With the two cold beverages under his arm, he was hurrying to the living room.

“I think we are all set.” He beamed with pride while placing the bowl on the table.

“Perfect. You’re right on time. It should start after these commercials.” You informed him while leaning forward to get a handful of popcorn from the bowl. While pushing a piece of popcorn into your mouth, you were only raising an eyebrow when you felt a pair of eyes on you. “What?” You asked, head turning to face Spencer as he quickly put his hands up in self defense.

“Nothing! I just wanted to see if it was good, that's all.”

“Right. I hate to tell you this, it tastes like buttered garbage. I don’t think you should subject yourself to eating it.” You joked, picking up a piece before flicking it in his direction, his eyes widening as he felt the snack hit his cheek.

“That could’ve taken out my eye!”

“Too bad it didn’t. We could get you an eyepatch.”

That was when Spencer took it a step further, getting a small handful of popcorn before throwing it in your direction. He was too busy laughing at your expression that mirrored his shock from earlier, pieces of popcorn in your hair and some on the couch.

“Is it a war that you want?”

“Me? You started it! Call it returned fire.”

That kickstarted a popcorn fight that didn’t seem to let up. Spencer was reaching into the now empty bowl before letting his eyes widen. He had no more ammo yet you had two handfuls. He was done for.

“You can apologize and we can end this.” You warned, your body now propped up on your knees as you had eventually turned to face him on the couch. “Just one ‘I’m sorry’ can end this bloodshed.”

“Never.”

“Suit yourself, Reid.” You were winding back one hand whenever Spencer was moving quickly to grip your wrist. There was some screaming, some laughing, and eventually you were being wrestled down onto the couch.

“Drop it!” Spencer laughed, both of your wrists being pinned down. “You do that and this will be all over.”

“No way.” You laughed, panting as you were being pinned down, some of Spencer’s long hair tickling the skin of your cheeks. You had both been in that position for a few more minutes before things calmed down, leaving you and the man above you to stare at one another and wait to reach a stalemate.

There was a growing tension, your faces only inches apart as he had you trapped between his body and the couch. Those beautiful eyes were looking down at you, almost as if Spencer was using the close proximity to take in every feature on your face. It was enough to make your face flush, cheeks hot from his gaze fixed on you and only you. The sound of the opening credits for the show you were supposed to be watching was playing in the background yet you could only look at each other.

There wasn’t a beat missed as he leaned down, lips against yours in a soft, yet cautious kiss. He felt like he had to play it safe, although the way you were feverishly returning the kiss told him all that he needed to know.

There was a fiery passion as your lips slotted together, almost as if they were made for one another. Your hands were moving to tangle in his hair, legs now wrapped around his waist as you both gave in to your urges that were always bubbling under the surface for however long you’d known the loveable genius.

It felt right, in a way. The way your were wrapped in one another’s embrace while having a moment of passion that you never expected to happen. However you had to admit, this was better than you ever thought.

Spencer was pulling out of the kiss, face flushed as he stared down at you with a shy smile. “It felt right. I’m sorry.” He whispered, only being pleased with the way you responded by pulling him down to connect your lips again, wanting to savor another moment as if he were going to disappear in thin air if you let him get too far.

The kiss had escalated soon enough, both of your clothes in a pile on the floor as you were tangled up on the couch, nothing but underwear separating you from each other. “Are you sure that you want this?” Spencer soon asked, his forehead against yours. Your friendship was always special to him, so naturally, he was worried about preserving those positive memories and the relationship as a whole.

“Definitely sure. I’ve thought about this for years.” For once, you were genuine. There was no hint of sarcasm dripping from your tone. That’s how he knew this was serious. “I’ve always loved you. I know you know that because I tell you all the time but it’s.. It's different than loving your best friend.”

Your confession had Spencer’s cheeks bright red, head nodding slowly to show he was paying attention. “Y-yeah. I love you more than a friend too.” He said slowly while he was bringing his hands down your hips, his fingertips tracing over your hot skin as he was hooking his fingers in the waistband of your panties.

Your hips lifted to assist him tugging your underwear down, your own cheeks hot from being exposed in one of your most intimate areas. It wasn’t like you hadn’t had sex before and you had confidence when you did but this seemed different.

“I need.. Hold on.” Spencer began while pushing himself up a bit, your watching with a raised eyebrow as you propped yourself up on your elbows. He went for his slacks, getting his wallet.

“Are you gonna pay me for this?”

“What?! No! I-I just..” He began, shuffling through the wallet before he was pulling a condom from one of the wallet folds.

“You have a condom? You were planning for this?”

“No! I have.. I asked Derek for one. Obviously not for tonight but I had to be prepared!” He said quickly while tossing his wallet on the table.

You didn’t tease him any farther, instead your eyes gazing over his body as he was shimmying out of his boxers while standing. Just kissing you had his cock semi-hard, his hand wrapping around his shaft to give a few pumps in order to complete the process although it wasn’t too hard with the anticipation of what was to come tonight.

After sliding on the contraception, he was heading over to get settled between your legs. His eyes were glancing over your glistening pussy, your arousal shining in the dim light of the living room. “Wow.” He whispered, hand moving between your thighs as his thumb pressed against your throbbing clit. The pressure alone was enough to make your mouth go slack.

“Fuck.” You breathed while feeling the pad of his thumb start to rub your clit, your arousal coating it with each swipe. He was taking his time with teasing you, at least.

When he was finished with massaging the bundle of nerves and he couldn’t hold back any more, he was grabbing his cock before lining his tip along with your entrance, thick tip breaching your slick cunt as he was slowly pushing into you when you were both ready enough.

There was a pleasurable burn as he was stretching out your inner walls, your hands tightly gripping onto his shoulders as you pulled his body down onto yours just to feel his skin against yours. It was oddly more intimate than you could’ve expected, even with him staying perfectly still with his cock nestled deep inside of you.

There was a soft gasp leaving your lips when he gave a slow thrust, just testing the waters for now as he didn’t wanna go too crazy before you were ready. He didn’t plan on going super hard anyway, that wasn’t who he was. “You alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Keep going.” You urged.

Once you proved comfortable enough due to your persistence, Spencer’s thrusts began to pick up a steady pace and rhythm. Your moans were enough encouragement for him to feel confident enough in the act, not shying away from you as much as anyone would’ve expected.

They rhythmic sound of his skin slapping against yours coupled with your gasps, shaky breaths and moans were filling the living room, the long forgotten show still filling the background noise. Spencer had since embraced you, one arm wrapped under your frame as the other kept himself pushed up over you. He just wanted to feel you close, to hold you as he made love to you.

It was beautiful to him, the way you were holding him and keeping him close in return. It was like you were the only people in the world, no responsibilities other than being close to one another. The warmth of your flushed skin against his was all he needed to be happy.

It was a dream, essentially. A dream so vibrant that Spencer didn’t want it to end, even if he knew that realistically he couldn’t be in a dreamland forever.

As he was torn from his thoughts at the feeling of your hands on his cheeks, he was offering you a smile as you were locking eyes with one another. “I love you.” He said softly, repeating what you’d both confessed earlier while leaning down to press his lips against yours.

It was after the fact whenever you were finally speaking again, body sitting up from the spot you were in on the couch as Spencer had retreated to the kitchen to dispose of the used condom. “Do you wanna come take a shower with me? No funny business.” You put your hands up in defense.

“No. It’s too personal for me to see you naked.” For the first time, Spencer was the one to be sarcastic with you, making you both burst into laughter.

“I’ve taught you well. Come on.”

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arthur-r · 2 years

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yo my mom has covid so she can’t come home on the airplane tomorrow….

#hello?????????#covid tw #she is stranded thousands of miles away #she was visiting her family and now she can’t come home #was not prepared to be in a dad-parented household for this long #when i say dad-parented i mean my dad specifically. dads are good parents but my dad specifically is abusive so!!!!#and mostly he is abusive to my mom and then the rest of us is by association. but it still does get bad when she’s not around too #and it would get EXTRA bad if he heard me calling him abusive so um. y’all are the only people i can say anything to #and things are fine right now they are. but he was mad at my little sister yesterday and again a few days before that #and i was making everything worse by how i reacted to that. so things aren’t looking like they will go very well #i wasn’t planning on starting to stay after all the time this early in the school year….#and i don’t want to leave lucia at home. but things really do feel like they’re better for her when i’m not around #hopefully everything will just be fine. but idk #also i’m trying to keep myself from staying after school until i’ve at least went to one session of philosophy club like a normal person #and i literally only will start if i actually feel unsafe at home. which has been true many times this summer but we’re not quite there yet #for this time around. so i will chill and i will sit through it and i shouldn’t have to go until my mom gets home #and she can take care of lucia and everything will be just fine. just. yeah idk. things are sure in a way #anyway i have to get back to dinner i’ve been hiding in the bathroom i just couldn’t take it #but i’m starting to be suspicious. so off to dinner i go. love you guys see you later #me. my post. mine.#delete later #abuse mention #anyway i’m fine and okay by the way!!!! like everything’s okay it’s just. a strange time. just don’t worry

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lagomoz · 9 months

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Everyone so far seems to be theorizing Amane’s victim as her dad, her mom, or an unnamed child also in the cult. I’ve got my own theory - it was Gozake.

That’s Gozake, from Magic. The blue guy. He’s one of the four main figureheads of the cult, and possibly a music teacher of some kind to Amane, conducting her to sing in Magic. The very first shot of The Purge March is Amane playing the drums.

The mindscape Amane’s wield flags representing the four cult leaders (teachers? elders? propaganda peddlers? high up members? whatever, important cult people), but Gozake’s flag in particular is given special attention.

Same color scheme, same three dots over a narrow rectangle like design, same ear thingy to the side, same orb-like design features - that’s Gozake. Before we see it flying though, we see it crumpled up on the floor by Amane’s feet, something not true for any other flag.

We then see an Amane messing up her flag routine, dropping Gozake’s flag in particular and falling over. The other Amane looms over her, preparing to punish her for a failure related to Gozake. Once the punishment starts, rain pours down.

Then, the punished Amane begins to drown. You can even see the flag while she’s sinking.

She drowns further, and we get another shot of just the flag, lying on the ground, and then the drowning Amane reaching up towards it. She’s reaching toward Gozake, the one responsible for drowning her.

And he is the one drowning her. We see it directly in Magic.

It cuts to the real world, with Amane actually being drowned, and her placed below the one drowning her like she is placed below the flag.

Take note of the framing, with one hand stretching from out of frame.

I can’t find a better picture for her undercover card, but her location shows a bathroom. Undercover also has a shot of a victim lying on a blue tiled floor (we can’t see the floor, but the shower in Purge March has blue and green wall tiles) with water coming down. Blue and water are representations of Gozake (Amane’s character color is aqua), and it’s framed as a single hand stretching out while the rest is (mostly) obscured, and takes place in the bathroom (or at least a bathroom) that Amane was drowned by Gozake in.

Throughout the MV, there’s a lot of blue, too. Amane’s school uniform is blue, the cloth she heals the cat with is blue (the cloth later becomes bloody, another thing representing Gozake being damaged), the sky and general background and lighting is blue. Symbols of Gozake are present everywhere in the MV.

The suit man with the briefcase could be Gozake, I’m not sure. Gozake would fit the profile - a cult member, adult male, disapproving of medicine, willing to put Amane in harm’s way - but I don’t have further evidence.

Before Amane goes all in on the cult’s doctrine, she has an umbrella, but it’s unopened. The baton she uses to kill and to represent her as fully converted and the opening umbrella are overlayed.

The lyrics show her motivation for the murder, as both a means of protection and revenge. She’s been horrifically abused for years, and has taken on the role of the punisher to avoid being the punished.

“It’s my turn to tear you apart / So there is no second time, I’ll give back the judgment that you gave to me / It’s now your turn to say that hopeless “I’m sorry” / You’re sorry? I don’t care! / Please, go ahead and die already / Remember MY cries, MY repents, MY words of “I’m sorry” that I said to you?”

Beyond showing a lot of resentment and disdain for the one she’s speaking to - her victim - the phrasing clearly shows that she’s not just punishing a sinner, she’s turning the tables. She’s returning the favor to someone who’s been violent to her in the past.

The umbrella is symbolically her murder weapon and what she uses to punish others, but also literally and obviously a tool to protect from the rain. What she uses to kill is what protects her from Gozake. She can’t take the abuse anymore and tries to become the cult sanctioned violent avenger that’s hurt her so many times. She can’t be the victim if she’s the perpetrator.

The final shot has her over the corpse, having tracked in water from the rain. The puddles lead right to it and the framing is the same as both the Undercover victim and the one drowning her - a single hand, reaching from out of frame.

Amane killed Gozake.

#illia original #milgram #the milgram project #momose amane #amane momose #gozake #the purge march #magic #theory #meta

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kinardscoffee · 1 month

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Do you think Tommy is here to stay for a while? How do you think is going to evolve his relationship with Buck? Will we get another kiss next episode?

I would love for him to stay forever!! Love him!!

Hey, Anon! Thanks for stopping by! I love talking about anything related to bucktommy, so you've basically made my day with your ask!

This turned into a long ass post, so I'm putting the rest under the cut.

Yes, I really do think Tommy is here to stay for a while because, honestly, he's the perfect LI to become Buck's endgame.

And I know that that thought is the biggest issue with certain stans right now, but like, he can easily have little storylines weaved throughout the series with the main and guest stars. And, if you actually read the interviews that the actors and Tim are doing, it's clear that's the goal. In fact, I was actually going to make a post for that idea, but I'll just add it here:

Hen, Chim, Bobby

Tommy clearly has a connection to Hen, Chim, and Bobby from his days at the 118. We've seen it in S2, so it's a canon fact. Chim saved his life, so that's a strong fucking bond right there. Not to mention they clearly enjoy quoting movies and probably discussing the plot of movies together. (Thank you, Bobby begins for the bar scene) Tommy was there when Kevin died, too, so he understands the loss that Chim has experienced through the job. And let's not forget that he had the opportunity to watch Chim become an amazing paramedic.

When it comes to Hen, he helped get rid of Captian Gerrard when Hen was being put through hell. (And yes, I do believe he said something to the higher ups. He is a military guy, and following the chain of command is very important to them, so I'm not surprised he never voiced his opinions outloud. Add that with the idea that he was very deep in the closet, he was probably terrified of that man.) And he knows that when it comes to Hen, she will never give up to do what's right and I like to think Tommy took a page from her book and applied that to his life on his journey to accept himself.

Then Bobby. Probably the first man in a leadership position that treated him with kindness and respect. When Bobby comes to the 118, there's some resistance, mostly from Sal, but even through all that, Tommy sees that Bobby is fair (transferring Sal to another station instead of fully firing him) and welcoming (by incorporating family dinners).

Athena

I was struggling with how he'd be connected to Athena, but then I remembered: trivia night!

Athena and Bobby used to have game night with Michael and David. Can you IMAGINE Bobby and Athena inviting Buck and Tommy over for dinner and game night??? I can. And I am so here for it!

Teams would absolutely be: Bobby and Buck. Athena and Tommy.

And let's face it. Athena sees Buck as Bobby's un-adopted son, so if Tommy makes Buck happy, Athena is good.

Karen

This one is interesting and maybe a tiny bit of a stretch, but I really believe that Tommy and Karen could connect through their interest for aviation/aerospace. She's a rocket scientist for crying out loud. He'd be like a little kid at the place where she works.

I also like to think that maybe, due to his childhood and being constantly between homes, he can help discuss the trauma that Mara might feel.

Maddie

I mean, the most important thing to her is that Tommy obviously makes her little brother happy and giddy. She wants to meet him, which is something I can't recall Buck or Maddie ever saying before about one of Buck's LI. Maybe Abby, but Buck was living in her apartment soooo... yeah.

I know Lou has revealed the backstory he has set up in his mind for Tommy and after saying his father was an alcoholic, I can't stop thinking that maybe little Tommy unfortunately experienced abuse from his father or witnessed it happening to his mom. Tommy, having a childhood connected to domestic violence, while not in the exact same way that Maddie experienced it, gives them something in common on a deeper level. An understanding of how important it is to accept love and open yourself up to the possibility.

Eddie

Eddie's friendship with Tommy is actually so interesting to me too because I have this crazy "invisible string" theory that includes him.(Platonically) But, moving on...

Clearly, they share a love of the same things. Muay Thai, watching fights, cars, Buck, basketball, the military.

For me, the military is their real connection because of Eddie's breakdown. No one else in Eddie's life can really understand what he's gone through and how it feels to maybe be the only one of your unit to survive. I'm pretty sure Tommy has already gone through therapy, and since Eddie had no one to reach out to with shared trauma like Frank suggested, he found that second chance in Tommy.

Buck

I mean... they connected lips and soon hearts. 🥺 Sooo....

Next question...

I really hope their relationship evolves in the cutest, sweetest, sometimes naughty, way!

I want to see nervousness. I want to see them learning things about each other. I want them to cuddle and laugh and go on double dates.

I want them to worry about the other one during a dangerous call or rush to each other at a moments notice.

I want to see them fall so in love with each other that I can sue ABC for giving me cavities from all the sweetness.

Having said that... I also want to see disagreements. Arguments and vulnerability and then the process of apologizing and making up.

So, basically, I want them to evolve into a healthy, stable, loving relationship.

And hell yeah! There will be a kiss on Thursday. I'd like to believe we'll see more than one just because of Oliver's interview, but for sure, we're getting one initiated by Buck and honestly I cannot fucking wait!!!!

I want him to stay forever, too. You're not alone 🩵

#911 spoilers #911 abc #911 fandom #evan buckley #bucktommy #tommy kinard #911 speculation #tevan #kinley #buck x tommy #tommy x buck #anon 🩵

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carolmunson · 7 months

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a thousand times a day | rockstar!eddie

fall frenzy req by @saltystormyx: 'I'd like to request a mini-fic with your rockstar!eddie au character. I'll leave it totally open to whatever you want to write.'

fall frenzy set list

back in action with a couple we haven't hung out with in a while! it was nice to get to revisit these two in some way. i had a different story for them to start -- something dirty and slutty -- but i just couldn't get into it. i needed something cozy for them. perhaps now that the seal is broken we can venture into some more slutty stuff between these two at some point. welcome to an early thanksgiving with the munsons before they were married.

tw: 18+, mostly very fluffy, some references to drug abuse, some references to using/addiction/getting clean. otherwise, two hotties in love. reader isn't referred to as 'stella' in this fic but the last name 'rink' is used a couple times to refer to reader and her family.

November, 1992

"I just, ugh honey I feel so awful to cancel on them." You blow your nose into a tissue but also direclty into the phone, making Eddie pull the receiver away from his ear for a second. You called in hysterics from a shoot in New York that you have to do pick up shots in Georgia and the earliest flight back they can manage is on Thanksgiving; leaving your plans to go back upstate to celebrate with your family in the dust. The flights had been paid for, even Wayne was making the trip to Syracuse to celebrate with you and yours. It was finally going to feel normal now that Eddie was three months clean and things had settled down some. He wasn't touring and they were only in the early stages of writing a new album and even then, the band spent most of their nights in the home studio instead of going into the city. Every now and again he'd come upstairs to grab more Pellegrino's out of the fridge and give you kisses on the cheek while you went over potential scripts.

Depsite having moved back at the beginning of November and back to falling asleep tied up with each other, you hadn't put your ring back on yet. It sat resting on your jewelry stand in your dressing room, as shiny and perfect as ever. Your bare ring finger sat as a reminder to him that he's not there yet; that he still has so much to prove -- but he meant what he said. You were gonna be his wife one day.

"Baby, it's okay. They're gonna understand," he assures softly, "It's not like you're doing it on purpose; they know you can't just not go." "It's just s-so stupid. An-an-and it's the first -- fuck, Ed it's the first one without Dad and I just feel so bad for my mom having to look at two empty seats and I don't know, babe. Like, I just feel like I'm r-ruining everything," you choke on your words, fully blubbering into the phone, make up smearing down your cheeks onto the hotel pillows you're leaning against. "You're not ruining anything sweetheart," his voice soft but firm, "You want me to get on a flight to you? I'll go right now."

"N-no it's okay," you sniffle, "I'm meeting up with Simone and getting dinner and we're gonna red-eye back home so we can get ready for Atlanta."

"Oh, so I get to see you tomorrow morning?" he grins, feeling selfish almost at how much he loves hearing your time away from him is cut so short.

"Yeah," you sniffle again, his heart pangs, "Probably really early."

"I'll have breakfast ready for you, okay? What do you want?"

"Um," you shrug to no one, "I don't know. Waffles." "Okay," he smiles, "Waffles it is."

The call home was less sweet; your mom understood but you could hear the dull ache in her voice. The subtle sadness mom's have in their register that they try to mask with an airy laugh -- years of feigning their own disappointement from life barely lived. She knows you're busy and she understands, she tells you a million times. You hear it but you don't feel it; you know she'd rather you blow it all off to come home again and see your family.

You'd rather blow it all off to see your family. Eddie had only seen your childhood home once -- quaint in size, snickered when he saw that you grew up with two guest rooms. He knew you grew up with it made, but you never made it so clear. You had walked through the trailer park to visit his old stomping grounds like you knew was growing up poor was like. Maybe you were a good actress after all.

He had waffles ready when you got in at five in the morning, who knows when he woke up to start. The Belgian Waffle maker you got sent as a wrap gift two years ago was finally out of the plastic, box still on the kitchen floor. Batter dripped down the sides and next to it a serving plate of a small mountain of waffles.

The pink stains on his fingers give a hint to who sliced all the strawberries and other fruit. Separated and glistening in the crystal bowls you really only take out for special oocasions.

Three cans of whipped cream sat at the end of the counter, one already opened with a small peak puffing out. 'Ya gotta try the product first, it's the whipped cream tax'

He's so silly. You missed his silly.

You're not home for very long, a couple days before you start packing for Georgia and you spend it all in his arms. Meals together, sitting on his lap in the studio while he tries out new melodies, you even spent one night curled up in the living room to watch a pay per view fight of Harrington's. Their friendship was finally starting to heal up after Eddie's last relapse.

He pouts when you get ready to leave, shrugging your coat on after you put the cordless phone down to confirm your car. You pout back at him.

"Don't give me that face, you're making me feel worse," you frown.

"M'just gonna miss you," he says quietly, "It's lonely here when you're not around."

"I know," you nod up at him. You don't mean for the comment to sting, but it does a little. It's not like he didn't want to be there with you this past year.

He leans down to kiss you, both hands reaching up to cup your cheeks.

"Don't be sad," he mumbles, nuzzling his nose against yours, "We'll have a nice Thanksgiving together when you get back, just us." "What about Wayne?" you ask, heart panging at the though of his Uncle eating alone. "Don't worry about it, sweet thing," he lets his lips linger against yours again for just a moment, "Wayne'll be okay."

The flight had never been more turbulent. Atlanta had never felt more cold.

You hear the phone ring and ring for the second time only to get the tin-like sound of your mothers voice again, 'Thanks for calling the Rink's! We aren't able to come to the phone right now; but please leave your name and number and we'll call you back. If you're trying to reach Stella Rink, please contact her publicist at Starmade PR Corp.'

"Hi, it's me -- again," you say into the receiver, "I'm sure you guys are busy cooking or have the game on but um, I just wanted to say happy Thanksgiving guys...God, come on, I know you're there. Just pick up!"

Your voice wavers, "I'm sorry I couldn't make it I just --" "NOW BOARDING FIRST CLASS - FLIGHT 7995 TO LOS ANGELES."

You feel a slight pull on your arm from Simone, sighing while you hang up the pay phone to make it to check in.

"They hate me," you mumble. "They don't hate you, Rink," she assures, hand soothingly skating up and down your back, "They know what your life is like." The flight is long and you sleep during most of it, the sad pit in your chest spreading through heavy in your body. You couldn't wait to just be home and eat take out on the couch with your man; have him whisper sweet nothings of reassurance while you pout in the glow of the TV.

Rain pours in California, which is not common but of course happening on the day you feel so awful. You hope that they at least called the house; that Eddie had messages to relay to you; anything so that the guilt didn't eat you alive.

You make it home faster than usual; everyone home with their families leaves less people on the road. You tip the driver triple the fare after he helps bring your bags to the door -- holiday cheer already flowing in your veins.

To your surprise, Eddie opens the door as you go to unlock it, his smile evident on his face. He's dressed cozily, black on black Corroded Coffin sweat shirt and matching pants, socks scrunch down on his ankles -- tattoos covered outside from what peek out at the wrists.

"Happy Thanksgiving, baby," he grins. He takes your bags, putting them to the side in the lobby while you kick your shoes off at the door. He pulls you in to a tight hug to his chest and even through the laundry detergent you can smell the food from all the way out here. Aromatics, butter, garlic, rolls, turkey -- it smells like comfort, it smells like home.

"Did you cook?" you ask with hopeful surprise, "You made like, a whole thing?"

"I did the dinner rolls and I bought all the food; but I'm kind of shit at that home cooking stuff so I called in some reinforcements," his laugh is grizzly with smoked cigarette gruffness.

"Come on," he ushers you forward, taking your hand while you walk through the entry way and down the hall towards the kitchen. His hand is warm and worn, still slightly clammy while the nervous teenager in him still stumbles over dealing with you. Being with you. Loving you.

The kitchen is busy, people bustling and moving and at first you think he must've just hired a team but then a flash of your mom's red Thanksgiving apron catches your eye. Your neice's giggle rings through the echoey walls. Your sister Luna sits at the breakfast nook with your nephew to keep him out of the way, helping him with a coloring book from deep in your stash downstairs.

"Wait, what?" you ask outloud. Your mom looks up, a smile in her eyes when she sees you. "Happy Thanksgiving, honey!" she smiles big, both of your sisters getting up and following her while they flock to you, a group hug of Rinks in the entry way of the kitchen. You heart swells in your chest while you feel them surround you, smell the familiar fragrance of your mom's perfume; your sister's shampoo. It had been so long, too long.

"What're you guys doing here?" you ask, tears welling up in your eyes while the emotion takes you over. You try to sniffle back the tingle in your nose while a cry comes on. "Well, Ed called us when you left for Atlanta and asked if we wanted to all come here," your mom answers, "He got all our flights and everything."

You look over your mom's head to see Eddie leaning up against the fridge, wiping his own tear away off his cheek to see you so happy.

"You were so sad, angel," he shrugs, "I didn't want your holiday to feel so lonely. So y'know -- I got everyone here for you instead. Can't have my baby sad on Thanksgiving."

Your lower lip wobbles when you look at him, his soft gaze while your sister's go back to their previous tasks, "Let me help you bring your bags up."

When he says help he means he takes them all in one trip, you take note that all the guest rooms have been set up. Your family already unpacked and lived in like they've been here a day or two. By the looks of their suitcases they'll be here through the weekend. Your heart swells again. "Where's Wayne?" you ask quietly while you make it into your room. He pops your bags by the entry way of the dressing room to unpack for you later, coming up close to you to press a kiss to your cheek. "He's out back smoking the Turkey and listening to Alice's Restaurant on a loop," he chuckles, "He just drinks beer and hangs out -- definitely has a little crush on your mom though."

"Oh my god," you giggle back, "Well she's very pretty, I get it." "He's got a real soft spot for your neice and nephew," he nods, running a hand over the top of your head, "He's gonna be such a great grandpa."

"I bet he is," you bite your lip for a moment, thinking about a future where that's true. Where you have rockstar Eddie Munson's babies. You wish you could report all of this to the papers instead of whatever shit they put in the tabloid rags about him. HANDSOME ROCKSTAR FIANCE SAVES THANKSGIVING FOR AMERICA'S SWEETHEART!

People would read that, right? You'd read that.

"Was it a good surprise?" he asks, "It wasn't too much to spring on you I was nervous th--" "This is perfect," you nod, "It's so perfect, honey. You're perfect." "You're perfect," he counters, arms wrapping tight around you to give you a tight squeeze, "Why don't you get yourself together and I'll meet you downstairs. I gotta set things up in the dining room, things'll be ready to plate soon."

"Okay," you nod, pulling your airport best off over your head while you watch him disappear back into the house.

Dinner was one to remember. You hadn't felt the true familial magic of the holiday since you were a kid and suddenly it had flown back with a veangance.

In true Rink fashion, the after dinner digestif of Irish Coffee followed you all down to the inhome theater to watch Miracle on 34th street; the little ones and Eddie nursing hot cocoa with way too many marshmallows pouring over the tops of the mugs. "I don't have to have one," you assured him, squeezing him arm gently while you looked at the cup in front of you. "Don't worry about me," his voice calm and confident, knowing he was only going to make it half way through the movie before falling asleep anyway. Most of your family did except you and Wayne who was surprised to find out he was making his way to California instead of upstate New York.

"Couldn't find my good winter boots so it turned out for the best, I guess."

Your sleepy family finally roused, your older sister getting the kids set up in their own room downstairs before she made her way up to her room. Luna and your mom following suit upstairs, Wayne following soon after.

You and Eddie clean up the small theater and head to the kitchen to assess the damage of what needs to be done. Eddie gave house keeping the weekend off to spend with their families; so for the first time in a while dishes like this were all on the two of you.

Thank god for dishwashers and a good Bing Crosby Christmas record -- you're able to clean up the kitchen in no time; stealing kisses in between songs, getting lost in a dance or two.

When you get upstairs to your room you're both exhausted; but not so tired that your eye don't linger when he starts to undress. You know you don't have the energy for the night cap he'd like but it's nice to watch him; the dip of his waist, the way his shoulder blades move under his skin on his back. "Still hungry, Rink?" he winks; heat flames your cheeks.

"No, no, I'm just -- y'know," you shrug innocently, "You look good, baby."

"Thank you," he hums while he changes into a pair of boxers for bed. You make your way into your dressing room and slip into a little night gown for the hell of it, silk and lace so he has something nice to wake up to -- something to show how grateful you are for putting this together.

When you crawl into bed next to him in the still of the night, one arm wraps around you instinctively. Heaviness dips into your eyes at the touch, it's always so hard to sleep without him there. Your hand smooths over his chest when he feels it; the drag of metal across his skin. His hand comes up to take yours and his thumb reaches up to search for it; breath catching in his chest when he can confirm it.

You put your ring back on.

"Really?" he whispers into the dark, "Yeah?"

"Yeah Munson," you nod into the crook of his neck, "Gonna be your wife one day."

#rockstar!eddie #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson au #stranger things fan fiction #stranger things au

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thejagermeister · 13 days

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because i will probably never have the time/energy to write a full fic about it: here are my thoughts on max, steph, friendship, and their mothers winning honey queen.

[content warnings for abuse and death]

the summer before fourth grade, max's mom competed in the honey queen pageant and won by a landslide. she was a lovely woman, adored by everyone she met. of course she won. what her family wasn't expecting was for her to run away with the prize money.

she was never seen again. max's dad, joseph, was always the stricter parent, always quicker to anger than his wife. but after she disappeared he got worse. and worse. over the course of the summer he went from verbally berating max for his mistakes to screaming at him over invented ones.

max saw school as a safe haven. but when he returned to it after that summer, he found himself wanting to hurt his peers. no, it wasn't a want. it was a need. every night his father abused him and every day he'd pass it on to a classmate. he relished in the control it gave.

at first he was scared his dad would get worse when he found out about the bullying, but joe encouraged it. told him "good, keep them in line. be the highest on the food chain, maxwell." eventually the district gave up trying to punish him.

in fourth grade, he mostly bullied the kids that were already outcasts, like pete, richie, and ruth. so he was still close with his best friend, steph.

the summer before fifth grade, steph's mom won the honey queen pageant. this was a total surprise, because she'd never expressed interest in competing before the contestants were announced. but she did great, and she won, and she ran away with the prize money just as max's mom did the year before.

max and steph were nearly inseparable for the rest of the summer. he stuck around to protect her— if his dad started abusing him after his mom ran off, what was stopping her dad from doing the same? she clung to him because she didn't know anyone else who shared the same trauma, who knew exactly what she was going through.

solomon didn't get worse like joe had. he was always pretty cold towards his daughter. in fact, he didn't seem to hold very much grief for his wife at all. he won his first mayoral election that fall.

steph never figured it out— how could she make the connection, when she doesn't know what goes on behind closed doors at the honey festival? she couldn't have known that solomon traded his wife for wealth and power. she couldn't have known that's why nibblinephim takes a special interest in her when she summons the lords in black, years down the line.

max and steph entered middle school, joined at the hip. but year after year they grew apart, as max descended further into the unrelenting bully he became in high school. steph started hanging out with other people. max joined the football team and made strategically chosen friends to keep his status.

sometimes they saw each other at parties. once, when they both were drunk enough to start spilling secrets, they sat outside and reminisced about their mothers.

in the timelines where max dies and becomes a vengeful ghost, steph mourns that he never got away from his awful home life. when he grabs her at the waylon place and says "get behind me, i'll protect you!" for a moment she's nine years old again, nestled into max's side while her father has a campaign meeting in the other room.

in the timelines where he doesn't die, she's the leader of the nerds' quest to "teach max how to be nice." she knows him better than anyone at school, after all. not many people remember the loud, distracted, but caring and protective kid that he used to be.

#hatchetfield #starkid #nerdy prudes must die #honey queen #max jagerman #steph lauter #stephanie lauter #solomon lauter #joe jagerman #headcanons

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theresivy · 9 days

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PLEASE HELP: SIGNAL B*OST, D*NATE, OR C*MMISSION ME!!

Listed below are the TL;DR, How to Help, and Full story/Context. I’m sorry I had to resort to this but i have no other choice.

TL;DR version

Please help a mentally disabled fan artist’s family to pay for medical debts for c*ncer, insulin, maintenance meds (for depression, anxiety, etc), and cat food

How to Help

D*nations!!! - I only have P*yPal (also thru K*-fi) and GC*sh! Please dm me for the link or QR code

C*mmission me!!! - I really hate asking for help with nothing to give in return, so preferably please c*mmission me. I havent updated my new set of c*mmission sheet samples BUT heres a short, quick version attached on my post as a pic.

B*y my let-go collection of merchandise!!! (PH-based only please and sorry) - In order to try and make up for the em*tional ab*se me and my mom have to go thru on a daily basis just by living with dad, I ended up in a downward spiral and tried to buy things impulsively since 2020. So, now, we’re paying the price and I have been deeply regretting it ever since. So, plsase please please help buy my palugi (selling for a loss) let-go merchandise, theyre mostly official and am selling for a loss, we badly need the space and especially the funds. Weve only sold less than a half of my stock and it doesnt help that my dad keeps mocking me about it.

Share and S*gnal boost!!! - Tumblr is the only site where i have somewhat of an audience. Please please please help reblog, share, and signal boost.

Full Story/Context

Hi, I’m Theresivy (Teh-reese-ivy), I have been depressed and mentally impaired (among other things) who draws art as a multifandom self-taught fan artist, As of 2020 my mom’s tumor has turned into cancer that has only been given medical attention to in 2022 onwards. And as of then, i have indefinitely become a N,E.E.T for my mom and our finance’s sake while being there by her side. As of now she has gone through FOUR surgeries because more and more unexpected complications keep popping up. She doesnt deserve this, why couldnt it have been me,

We live with my emotionally abusive and manipulative dad (her husband) and our two fur daughters Pancake and Waffles (of which my cats and mom mean more than the world to me) while being forced to live in one of the countless apartment complexes my equally abuse maternal uncle (and his wife, my maternal A-I-L) as we have no other choice. And as such, my dad has been kissing their asses since we were forced to move here more than five years ago.

Both my uncle and my A-I-L took it upon themselves to become the defacto head of my maternal family ever since my maternal grandmother passed just because he became rich thru the means of evil entrepreneur practices. We cant do anything lest we want to get kicked and live on the streets. He is a real-life mastermind as he is always a few steps ahead of us, even making it so that his eldest daughter became his perfect pawn of being his personal lawyer. He always has connections and to them we are merely insects.

My parents and the rest of our family dont really see “artist” as anything that could get money rolling in (and day by day my failed attemptes have been proving them right), and on top of that, they see me being depressed and such as being the “freeloading couch potato”. So they keep bringing up how much of a failure I am. Weve been living in such toxic conditions that my mom has developed this sort of stockholm syndrome type relationship with my dad, and her younger brother (my uncle), and his wife (my A-I-L, her S-I-L). At first i thought i could try and save mom but shes too far gone that she strictly forbids me from fending for myself whenever either of the three try to berate me and drive me to tears and breaking down for the fifth time every week.

All i wish now is to be able to pay back at least some of the debt, for my mom and my fur daughters’ sake, and hopefully my own. I have been in a downwards spiral ever since i have been tolerating being the “odd one out” kid from school. in general, and even in the family, its been literal years and my entire life, im tired of being used and tossed to the side, im tired of being the punching bag of a cosmic joke, and im tired of my disabilities. im tired of being useless to the people i care for the most. so please. help us.

My wish now is to be able to help mom and our fur daughters move away from our domestic ab*sers. everything is an endless spiral of dead ends and im sick of it. ive been self sabotaging for years but a small part of me still has hope, please. i dont want to believe that this is where it ends for us. in this world of darkness and cruelty that spits on our faces, only my mom and our fur daughters have shown me the smallest glimpse of happiness. and even then ive failed them by becoming a barely functioning patient of depression. so, please, dont take my sunshines away.

#signal boost #art ph #commissions #artists on tumblr #my art #theresivysart #paypal #gcash #mutual aid #emergency commissions #art commissions #commissions open #open commissions

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pedrostylez · 1 year

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The Call

pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader

summary: reader and Javier are coworkers that typically hate each other, but find each other helpful in relieving that stress

rating: 18+ (no minors please)

word count:2.2k

warnings etc: trigger warning-mentions of abuse, but this is mostly fluff, angst and sad exclusive NO USE OF Y/N.

A/N: I’m wanting to wrap up this mini story I have created by giving some context to 2 different things I’ve mentioned along the way. 1 being this, where the reader opens up about her past so that Javier has some insight, and the other one shot being related to Peña not getting off…OOP!

Happens between “The First Week” and “Mi Luz”

It was just another weekend where you and Peña had not followed up with each other initially, when he called you from his home phone saying, “I bought new whiskey so I could get to know you better.” He laughed to himself, giddy at the prospect of getting you in his bed again. He had thought about you last night, and wondered why you hadn’t come over after work, but the week had been long and you likely wanted to rest. Today was a new day, and he hoped to get you to come over.

“I don’t like whiskey.” You scoffed through the phone, looking up at your living room ceiling. You were too quick to answer the phone, thinking it was going to be your mom who had just hung up on you. You hoped that Peña didn’t read too far into it.

“Good thing I got tequila for you cariño, now come over.” He chuckled, loving how you were so quick to respond.

“Peña…” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I really can’t, I am waiting on a phone call.” Admitting it wasn’t something you wanted, but you didn’t know how else to get him to leave you alone for today. It wasn’t a good chance you would be the company he wanted.

He paused on the other end-you didn’t typically sound so defeated. He thought about cracking a joke that you were waiting for another guy to call, but he stopped himself. “I’ll come your way in a little bit. Tequila will go to waste at my place.” And with that he hung up, not giving you a chance to tell him no.

He was quick to be knocking on your door, alcohol back in the paper bag he had originally purchased it in and smirking at how surprised you were to see him. You ushered him in, not even making a snide comment like usual. He turned to look at you, eyes raking up and down your body to see that on this Saturday, you were paler than usual, and less put together. Sure, you would not be done up, wearing comfy clothes, but something was off today. “Are you alright, hermosa?”

You glanced up at him while wringing your hands. “Take off your shoes Peña, stop tracking dirt in my place.” You knew he was watching to see if you were okay-having a comment was the only way to get him off your back.

But he knew, toeing off his boots and setting the bag down on the counter. He looked to your sink, seeing no dishes in the rack that were clean or dirty ones waiting to be done. Eyes back on you, he frowned. “I’m starving, I am going to order some food. Do you want anything?” Maybe you were just hungry.

You shook your head no as he searched through your takeout menus you had stuck to the fridge, finding the most crumpled one as an indicator that you called them most. He waltzed into your living room to your phone to call them, sitting on the arm of your couch. He smirked at the pencil scribbles in the menu, stars next to the meals you liked the best while waiting for them to pick up. He glanced at you again, seeing your stiffness as he was using your phone. This phone call you were waiting on must be important. “I’ll be quick, I promise. Could eat a horse right now.” He winked, watching your shoulders drop and turn away from him. He watched you pace in the kitchen for a moment before going into your bathroom and shutting the door quickly.

He was concerned.

You listened to how he ordered all your favorite dishes and a few more through the bathroom door, loading up his bill to be much higher than usual. You could feel your stomach grumbling when the delivery man came, finally out in the common living area pretending to clean as Javier watched you from your couch. The sounds of your stomach made Peña look at you and smile like he had won something. You didn’t understand this game he was playing.

You sat on the side of the couch that was close to the phone and stared blankly at the tv show that Peña had put on. He poured you a drink, topping it up with tequila every chance he got and you gave little complaint. He watched you from the corner of his eye, seeing you take slow bites and looking to the phone every few minutes.

Maybe you were drinking enough now that he could prod. “Who are you waiting on calling you cariño?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, fork halfway to your mouth before setting it back down. “I’m waiting for my mom to call me back.” You said sheepishly.

He watched you for another second, waiting for you to continue. When you didn’t, he set his own plate down and turned his body toward yours. “Did you talk with her already today?” Something was clearly wrong. He had never seen you like this, never known you to be shy about what you were doing. You were typically so confident, and to watch you pull in to yourself made him nervous.

You nodded, looking over to see his chest facing you, shirt unbuttoned with a tank underneath, jeans looser than usual and socks scrunched down around his ankles. His hair wasn’t a mess, but ungelled. He looked relaxed in your home. “She, uh, checks in on me sometimes but I had called her first and…my dad didn’t like that.” you whispered, not wanting to make eye contact with him and keeping your stare on the hollow between his collarbones.

He noticed your look, hoping he wasn’t making you uncomfortable. He reached for your arm, gently grabbing your wrist and sliding them to your fingers. “Why doesn’t he like that, mi luz.”

He felt his heart stop at the first sign of your eyes pooling with tears. You tried blinking them back, making the mistake of glancing up to his eyes and seeing the pity in them. You hated that. “He thinks I’ll try to convince her to leave again, and he’s not wrong.” You sniffle, looking down at your connected hands. “But I can’t do much from here.”

Javier was trying to control his breathing so as to not show that he was upset for you. He had a feeling that you didn’t want that, and that you needed someone to have a level head asking you questions. “What did he do when he found out you were on the other end of the phone?”

You squeezed his hand, chuckling to yourself. “He started yelling, but Mom ran away before I could hear too much. She knows I don’t handle it well but I heard him break a few dishes…” you pulled away from him, reaching for the glass of tequila he had poured you and downing it in one go. “She will call me back when he has either left or fallen asleep so I have to wait for it.”

Peña sighed, leaning into your couch and watching you fidget, down the alcohol, and glance at the phone again. Maybe it was the whiskey, but he felt like he could ask you more questions than usual. “How did you get her to leave the first time?”

You paused, a laugh bubbling out of your mouth before you could stop it. “Probably the fact that he punched me so hard I had bruises on my ribs and a black eye. But even that didn’t stop her from going back to him once I took this job.” You sounded spiteful, almost spitting the answer at him.

He felt rage boil beneath his skin at the idea that you had endured that. But he continued his questions. “How long has that been going on?” He was trying to keep his hands to himself. You pulled away from him for a reason, and he didn’t want to cross your boundaries.

“Since I could talk back, I guess.” you sighed, leaning farther into the couch and looking at the ceiling. Peña could be your therapist today, you supposed. “I don’t handle yelling that well.”

His rage paused long enough to think back to how you had yelled at him in the archives on one of the first days he worked with you. The minute he was out of the room he could hear you sobbing to Murphy about something. He had raised his voice first, clenching on to your desk like he was going to throw it. Had he really done that? To you? His rage subsided to guilt at the thought he had caused you discomfort so soon after dealing with your mom returning to your dad. Before he could stop himself, he reached a hand out to you, brushing his knuckles against your cheek. “I’m sorry.”

You shrugged, tilting your head into his hand slightly. “It’s not your fault, Peña. I just have to wait it out, and hope that she will step away again when she is brave enough.” You inhaled deeply, looking at him again. “I can only do so much, but she’s my mom and I love her.”

He sighed, wanting to pull you to him when your phone rang making you both freeze. Your eyes widened, feeling your stomach turn and wishing you hadn’t eaten what Peña ordered, no matter how starving you were. With a shaky hand you picked up the line, immediately hearing your mother’s struggling breath on the other end. “Ma?”

“Hey sweetie.” She panted, voice small and quiet. “Sorry about hanging up, I, uh–your father just had a bad day at work.”

“Are you alright?” Panic was prominent in your voice, glancing over to Peña who sat still beside you.

“Oh yes, of course! He wouldn’t touch me.” She coughed, clearing her throat. You weren’t aware but Peña heard the emphasis your mom put on that sentence he wouldn’t touch me and clenched his teeth. “Like I said, just upset about work. No problems here. Anyways, we were talking about your job. How is that going?”

You looked back at Peña, seeing the tension in his jaw at how your mom was brushing it to the side. “It’s okay, Ma. Just organizing and helping the agents.”

“You were always so particular about how you organized! Glad you like it sweetie. Hope you’re not giving anyone trouble?” She pressed, sounding distracted as if she was looking over her shoulder.

You shut your eyes and sighed. “No, everyone thanks me for how I organize everything. I’ll…I’ll let you go. Thanks for calling me back.”

“No problem sweetie. Let me call you next time alright? Love you.”

As you started to say it back, the line went dead. Your hand was shaking, unable to put down the phone as tears swarmed your vision. She didn’t even wait for you to say it back? Was it really that bad, or was she over speaking with you?

Peña reached around to the phone and gently took it from your grasp and put it on the receiver, immediately wrapping his arms around your front and pulling you into him. You felt tears start to overflow and streak down your face, unable to move away from him and not wanting to do anything but lay down.

Javier didn’t know what to do beyond holding you, feeling your hiccups, your breaths, your sobs. He shushed you quietly, turning your head to lightly run his fingers through your hair to massage your scalp. “It’s okay baby, she’s alright. You have to believe her right now.”

You shook your head, moving your hands up to your face. You felt embarrassment at your current state but couldn’t stop, covering your eyes to hide some of the shame. “I don’t know what to do.”

He felt his heart break at how defeated you sounded, squeezing you tighter. “You’re alright cariño, just relax with me.” He sighed, finding himself rocking you while you cried, wanting desperately to never see you like this again.

Slowly you calmed, reaching to push yourself up from Peña’s chest and wipe your eyes. You refused to look at him, reaching back to the food that had been forgotten and stirring your plate around. He watched you, keeping one hand on the small of your back. “I’m okay.” You sniffed, bringing your fork up to your mouth.

He waited, watching you take two more bites before exhaling through his nose. “Okay cariño, you’re okay.” He said quietly, reaching for his own plate.

You ate in silence with Peña, watching the television again and cleaning off your plate with another serving being put on it by Javier. He had the inkling that you had a habit of not eating when your mother was supposed to call, and wanted to make sure you were having enough. He watched you, spreading his arms out on the back of your couch as you began to settle again. Your eyes began to feel heavy, the adrenaline and worry tiring you out as you leaned your head back on his forearm.

Eventually, you fell asleep, leaning toward Javier subconsciously until your head rested on the side of his chest, Peña moving his arm to wrap around you protectively. He looked down at you, feeling his heart soften at the puffiness of your eyes, and swore to himself to never raise his voice at you again.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #javier pena fic #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #agent pena fanfiction #javier pena x reader #javier pena fluff #javier pena fanfiction

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eighthdoctor · 7 months

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Maximianus Philophonos Bard 11/Rogue 1

Because we're at the end of the campaign, I wanted to write up a little bit about Max.

Max started as a combo of two A+ tier ideas:

A charisma caster but the charisma is "the most pathetic little man you've ever seen, you can't possibly say no"

A bard who thought being a bard was like being a professional musician and is shocked to find out that it is not, in fact, at all like being a professional musician.

The other thing going into Max is (before naming him, the name is only accidentally a pun) I wanted to abuse the shit out of the bard class. Minmax that fucker. Dating the DM is an excellent method for getting away with this. Turns out a single level in rogue gets you some expertise (2x proficiency bonus to some skills) which you then get MORE of with bard levels, and eventually bard gets you jack of all trades (1/2 proficiency to anything you're not proficient in) meaning that most of his skill checks are something like +5.

So out of universe I needed a guy whose first level was in rogue, remainder in bard, a classic pathetic little wet rat of a man, who is both wildly talented and also just. Completely incapable of using that for malicious OOC purposes otherwise my wife would kill me.

What I wound up with is someone who has crippling anxiety. Max is very nearly too anxious to function in society, gets outsize sympathy for it, and really can only do social interactions in the framework of performances.

See, at about 18 Max went to magical Juilliard to become first violin in the Requiem City Orchestra. After the first semester he realized two things:

Magical Juliliard is not really Juilliard at all, but more like the CIA academy if they also taught music.

He's trans. (Sidebar: He does not actually have a deadname. Maximianus is his stage performance name that he just sort of. Went with. After coming out.)

This is all hideously awkward and embarrassing and he has multiple fullblown panic attacks about the first thing.

Max's family is huge and overbearing and supportive and he doesn't really want to come out to them because it will be a Whole Thing TM and he is so, so, so bad about receiving affection, and he really doesn't want to tell them about the school mixup because then he's wasted their money and they'll never ever ever say anything about it but he's just a drain on their resources and also everyone will be so caring, so sympathetic, poor kid, homecooked meals for months, mom knocking on the door every day to see if he's still crying--

So he goes no-contact. To avoid explaining why he's dropping out of school.

He did accomplish one thing in that semester though, and that was making friends with a tabaxi student named Ihava (Ihava Nayme, because Jo mistakenly didn't give her a name and we promptly engaged her in conversation and also a subplot). Ihava is a budding revolutionary and realized that (a) Max totally has subversive tendencies and (b) the ability to baldfaced lie to cops and make the cops feel bad for you is priceless.

That's how Max got involved in a budding insurgency, and over the following year or so took his first class in rogue. Some theft, but mostly just skulking around, standing watch for others, passing info, etc.

Then he got itchy feet--Requiem isn't tiny but a year trying to avoid contact with any relatives, your luck will run out eventually, and Max is also just. He's not flighty but he does like novelty, and at some point the Violet Guard were gonna figure out that this kid was turning up at a lot of crime scenes. So he dropped a letter to the family (identity crisis etc graduated early etc going off to join the circus don't worry about me), and really just started moving across the country, working as a travelling minstrel.

He very rarely pays full room & board, instead playing for his dinner. He eventually washed up in Suncrest, and met the rest of the party when the tavern down the street [checks notes] exploded.

And this is where he really started taking off, because Max is two very cool things in one package:

He is just a good kid. When asked by a NPC why we were putting so much effort into helping her, his immediate, honest answer was "how could we not?" and he stands by that 11 levels later. He's somehow remained mostly Lawful Good despite some VERY sketchy actions, because at his core he wants to help people, and he wants to do so within a strict code of morals. They're just...sometimes unusual.

He's also got a VERY nasty imagination and will put his spell list to work in deeply creative (and fucked up) ways.

As an example. At level 4, Max got the second level spell Phantasmal Force, which lets you convince one being that Something Exists. This is obviously a spell mostly constrained by the player's creativity.

Also at level 4 Jo dropped us in a dungeon at the bottom of which was a Young Blue Dragon. This was moderately outleveled for the party and we should have fucked off.

Instead Max went "hey is that a male dragon" and the DM said yes, and Max mindfucked the dragon into thinking there was a Young Red (male) Dragon coming into HIS LAIR, and then the dragon spent multiple rounds trying to fight the illusion and we completely killed a dragon without major injury at level 4.

This became Max's Thing: Using his spell slots to wildly outsize effect, through monopolizing a major enemy, convincing NPCs to let us go where we really should not go, utilizing cold iron + animate objects to do serious damage to the Wild Hunt...

He didn't usually do the most damage and he didn't often get the kill shot, but he was doing battlefield control. A lot.

And so then we come to the final arc. Jo wrote up the bit about the Wish spell here. (I need to add that once again we fucked up her plans, because of COURSE the WIZARD would attune to the STAFF OF THREE WISHES, and no. Consensus was to let Max do it because Max is the words person. This worked out very well, see here.)

But just. You have the world's most anxious bard. He didn't even want to be A Bard, he wanted to be a musician. He also has a mindblowingly powerful artifact.

For over a minute, Max had to maintain perfect concentration to save the world. A friend died in that minute. Multiple friends fell unconscious and had to be revived (mostly by Max). Almost everyone in the party temporarily incapacitated themself (see here) to ensure that he passed Concentration saves he should have failed.

There's a massive battle going on entirely around Max. He is the focal point of everything. Everyone he loves is risking literally everything to keep him focused, and he spends most of it in a pocket dimension trying to keep breathing. He's channelling impossible power to try and fix the converging planes and defeat the Summer Queen, and he can only do this by not fighting, by hiding away and curling up tight and thinking very, very hard.

And he does it. He succeeds. We find out tomorrow what that looks like but god damn I am proud of my boy.

#HE'S SUCH A GOOD #i'm not sorry for putting this massive thing on everyone's dashes y'all deserve it #julis runs d&d

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punkeropercyjackson · 2 months

Text

My Toh self-insert lore masterpost

His name is Verano Azul and he's black/white mixed dominican-Not the Demon Realm equivalent like Willow being korean but as in one of his parent's is from Earth and dominican.The parent in question is named Esta and is something of a dark parallel to Luz,a human who ended up on the Boiling Isles and is instead a magic hater who sides with Belos because she grew up catholic with 'fairy tales' about him.His other parent is named Invierno and he has an older brother named Otoño who goes by Oto

Esta and Invierno are abusive to him because of intergenerational trauma from their latino heritage and encourage Oto to bully him and uphold him as 'the sibling they raised right'.Verano had severe self-eestem issues because of this and it was only added on to by being bullied at Hexside for his shyness and obvious hybrid status(having non-pointed ears,which this amazing picrew sadly dosen't provide)

He's the same age as Luz and was a trio with Willow and Gus until she came along and made them a quartet.He met his first ever two friends the same day they met eachother when they saw him getting bullied by Boscha and Gus caused a distraction with his illusions so Willow could sneak him away to a hiding spot and Gus hid too to avoid Boscha's wrath.Once school let out,Verano nervously approached them to thank them and hung out with them the next day which turned into every day after that

He's in the healing track/coven and got shit from his family for it because they wanted him to 'take a more useful one' and his palisman is a pink strawberryonic dragon named Fresa

Los Padres Azules also never truly let him be feminine as a kid and called him an ungrateful brat for asking for things like children's makeup kits and dolls so as part of her redemption arc,Amity teaches him how to be femme and buys him the stuff they refused to and a particularly special item he's always wearing because it was the first one she bought him is his plain pink choker

His fashion sense is pastel and mostly girly but with some masc hints here and there since he's bigender and it makes him happy with himself.He's short and scrawny and has naturally 4b hair he was forced to relax by his racist mom growing up and he dyes a baby pink streak in it in season 3 as a bonding activity with Amity and Willow until the epilogue where we see he's switched to twists and several streaks and gone from regular pastel to pastel punk

He also invented video games in Demon Realm since Luz introduced him to them and he learned how to make them as he loved them enough for it to become a special interest.He started with an unused pink Tamagotchi gift from Luz and worked his way up to a whole technological revolution he used purely for good(I.e entertainment,education,comfort and so forth games only)

Has a genderfluid pride pin on his dress in Thanks To Them and in the time he spent on earth is when he discovered punk culture and got radicalized and learned he was actually a social butterfly who just hadn't found the right people-The 'right people' being the rest of the Hexside Squad,Vee and Masha.Him and Masha are pastel/goth besties and they get in on the Residencia Noceda secret thanks to it because in this verse we got the full season we deserved and Veesha gets to unfold onscreen like Lumity did and there's also extra Grimwalker lore bits and backstory on Luz's earth life and Camila is a major mc

Eda becomes a mother figure to him throught his frequent visits to The Owl House to see Luz and adopts him mid-season 1 after finding out he's being abused thanks to him accidentally revealing it during one of their conversation's.She went to the Azul residence and tricked his parents into giving her custody via adoption papers and easily beat them when they tried to fight her.Oto wasn't around to witness it but is still scared shitless of her and avoids Verano from then on(He does apologize in For The Future and Verano says he accepts but dosen't wanna be around him anymore and he respects that).Raine is also his parent due to their's and Eda's marriage and there's not a day without both chaos and wholesomeness with them

Considers Camila his official parent too(and she sees him as her son and daughter)and is eternally grateful to her for teaching him about blackness unlike Invierno.Perry,who was never told about Verano's abuse until after Eda came along,did teach him a few things but sadly couldn't get many because of him still living with his racist parents

And his final parent is Darius.This one has funny reasons because the context is that the two of them got so close thanks to Verano being best friends with Hunter that Darius kept dropping hints to Eda he wanted shared custody and she teased him into admitting outright and laughed at his embarrased anger before agreeing to it.Verano was overjoyed when they told him and told them into a group hug after them each a platonic cheek kiss,squealing about how much he loves them and what they were going to do as a family.He also ends up being All Tracks due to his mixed home life making him learn so many magic types

His Bad Girls coven shirt is all shades of pink and he adores King and Darius' abominations so much and technically lives with both Raeda and him due to how often he stays over at his.Verano got a taste of the fine life starting in 'Abnomination and Son and Daughter' when it started and he learned to employ a couple of his daily routines and mannerisms into his own.He calls Darius 'Daddy' instead of Dad and the man started sobbing on the spot the first it happened

His full name is technically Verano Azul Clawthorne Noceda Whispers Deamonne but for the sake of shortness he just uses his first name when introducing himself

When he started unmasking,he turned into a very bubbly and optimistic weirdgirl who slowly became a Team Mom as his friend circle grew.His favorite stims are chewy necklaces,flappy hands,running around and echolalia,he's good ar handling meltdowns,his special interests are dragons,cats,ghosts,video games,pink and anarchy/chaos,his safe foods are booding and Dairy Queen(post/during season 3)and he has a whole diy'd backpack of safe items he carries around

Like the rest of the Hexside Squad,he had an episode dedicated to his first meeting with Hunter and their's was called 'Little Pink Flying Hood and The Hunter'.It took place post Eclipse Lake but pre Hollow Mind and had them bumping forehead first into eachother due to his broom going out of control and getting lost in woods and trying to find their way back home.They became friends at the end as they bonded deeply,including Verano telling him he dosen't have to be perfect and Hunter responding that they don't need to feel like a freak either.They don't reveal his secret identity in ASIAS but there's a running gag that he thinks they will and at one point they snark that if he keeps at it they'll spill the beans

Verano,Willow,Gus and Hunter are called 'The Four Emeralds' and their group chat they created after Darius gave Hunter his phone is titled that and it's extremely chaotic but sweet

His Flapjack tatto is on his right palm

He's Gus and Mat's wingmanwoman and finds Mat's cringe to be super cool.They're something of a subtrio as they get their own episode with Steve too that's about brotherhood shenanigans(The Tholomule bros with Verano + Verano and Gus),gay anticts(Gustholomule)and trans femme swag(Verano)and it's called 'Oh brother,where art tholomule?'.This trinity's name is 'The Creation Counts'(yeah,like the vampire joke.They are dorks SUPREME)

His halloween costume was a pink and white dragoncat onesie with blue catdragon face paint and strawberry scented paws

He's a Penstagram influencer technically but the influence is just him being witch Megan Thee Stallion where he just posts positivity,humor,him having fun and activism related things.Also as an adult he posts 'thirst traps' that're just him having that drip but the Healer Girl Summer Nation go wild

He also appears in Chibi Tales and was redrawn as Tiana in her blue dress fit for Black History Month by an artist on the crew.His character is meant to be representation for black femmes like how Luz is for black baby butches

The second design is from a swap au created by @theautisticcentre where he's the grimwalker instead of Hunter so rather than Philip,Belos had a sickening obsession with a mulatta from his time period and Verano's name is instead 'Victoria Wittebane' as a result.Belos holds no attraction to 'her',an egg he forces not to crack out of being a puritan,but he's a very awful 'father' to Victoria and she's known as 'The Golden Maiden'.If you want more lore,go ahead and ask Mathew about,he is a fantastic content creator and takes requests for headcanons and fics as well♡

And the 3rd design is canon complaint,as Belos gets his hands on Verano to torment Hunter and Luz in Watching and Dreaming by 'dehumanizing' him to show Verano's 'true self' by making him half Dragon,dragons being on par with Titans in godhood status but considered lesser than them and having been at war as a result like they were with Collectors,but this backfired on him because Verano is dragonkin/a dragon therian and Titan Luz and 'Dragono' defeated him at last together in a show of sisterhood,holding hands when they finished and going back to their loved ones while leaning on eachother for support.Like i headcanon Titan!Luz,Dragono still lingers in Verano

And also like his hermana,he regularly travels between worlds and it turns out there's a place called Dragonland that's kept secret to avoid new conflict and he becomes an ambassador for them!!!

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sadhours · 1 year

Text

ABSENTEE - 2

previous chapter • masterlist • my requests are open!

word count: 6k+

warnings: 18+ minors dni, child abuse mentioned, marijuana, smut, mentions of male masturbation, oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, mental illness hinted(ocd)

///.

Neil opens the door abruptly. It’s been five days. He’s starving. Hasn’t eaten a damn thing besides sour candies. Max used to bring him food but when Billy realized he didn’t have access to a bathroom, he decided he’d rather starve. The look of his father makes him sick to his stomach. Billy can’t look in his eyes.

“Go get a fucking job,” is all he says before he stalks away, slamming the front door as he leaves.

Billy stands and staggers into the kitchen. Susan is sat at the table, drinking a cup of coffee as she looks over this months Cosmo. She doesn’t spare a glance at Billy as he unties the bag of Wonder bread and shoves two slices into his mouth, opening the fridge and grabbing the carton of milk. He washes down the bread with a couple gulps of milk, panting as he pulls it away. He surveys his step moms face, searching for a hint of guilt but if there is any, she hides it well. Billy looks over to the clock to see it’s just hit 6:30. He digs through the fridge for anything quick and easy to eat, finds himself a slice of leftover lasagna and eats it cold, with his hands, chewing as obnoxiously as he can in hopes to make Susan feel bad. He wants to scream in her face, ask if she enjoys this or if she knows that if he weren’t here, she’d be in his place. A goddamn prisoner in her own home. Solitary is the fucking pits and Billy fantasizes about Neil and Susan being doomed to it long enough they go absolutely insane.

“Sleep well?” he asks her, slamming the Tupperware in the sink hard enough it makes her jump.

“Fine,” she replies like her step son hasn’t been denied basic human rights for the last five days.

“Fucking radical,” he purrs, “You know, we spend like a third of our life sleeping or some shit.” Billy walks over to the table and rests his arms on the chair across from her, “Did you know that, Susan?”

“Huh?” she flips the page, “Oh, yeah, that’s neat, Billy.” She says it like she wasn’t listening to him, he’s sure she wasn’t.

“Sure is,” he slaps the table hard, making her jump again, “Nice to see ya, Susan, it’s been days.”

He wants to slap the unbothered look off her face, but Billy would never hit a woman. Won’t let himself become his dad.

“I need a shower, feels like it’s been forever,” he admits before stalking down the hall into the very same bathroom his dad had split his head in the week prior. It’ll be real fun trying to get a job with his face mangled like this. Of course Neil never thought about that. If Billy thought it’d get him anywhere, he’d tell his dad that.

He strips off his shirt and turns around, craning his neck to look at the wounds on his back. They’re minor and they’ve mostly healed in the past five days so the shower shouldn’t be too painful. His body aches from being cooped up for so long. He turns the faucet on as hot as it’ll go and returns to look at himself in the mirror. A tiny little mustache is forming, along with patchy hair under his bottom lip, chin and along his jawline. As he waits for the water to heat up, he grabs the shaving cream and lathers up with it. He starts shaving away at the scraggly hair but when he gets to the mustache something stops him. After wetting his thumb under the faucet, he swipes the Barbasol off his upper lip and inspects his face. Wonders if he leaves the hair what it will grow into, patchy like the rest or full like his dads. Billy’s not totally stoked on the prospect of being anything like Neil but he thinks the mustache would make him look older so he decides to leave it.

He spends an absurd amount of time in the shower. Debates on jacking off but he’s a little sick at the thought. There wasn’t much to do the past five days and he’d somewhat abused his dick with boredom, so much so he got tired of his skin mags. Maybe it was time to get some new ones. He’d been looking at the same women for a few months now and he wasn’t getting as worked up when he flipped through them. He thinks about talking you into taking some photos for him, he’d have the memories to back them up and he probably wouldn’t get bored of them like he does with the models. Then again, maybe he would.

Job. He needs to get a job. He can’t let himself slip up and repeat the routine of running to Reggie’s to get stoned. Billy can’t imagine himself working the fryer at a fast food joint or bagging groceries but the longer he waits, the more desperate he’ll be.

Once the water turns cold, he shuts it off and reaches for a towel to dry off his body. He stayed in there too long and his fingers and toes have gone all pruney. But now Susan won’t have hot water to take her shower and that gives him a bit of satisfaction so it’s all worth it. He returns to his room and turns his stereo on as loud as he can handle before he gets dressed. Jumping into his jeans, he mentally files through the shirts he could wear that’ll make him look more professional. He settles for a loose, white button up and then gets started on his hair, combing a bit of mouse through it while it’s still damp to define his curls. He lets his hair air dry, lighting up a cigarette. It’s the last one in the pack you’d gifted him, he rationed them very carefully, though he wasn’t sure how long he’d be trapped in his room. It’s pure luck Neil decided to let him out today but he’s been known to survive without nicotine for a while, even though it drives him insane. Billy’s tough, he thinks he could pretty much handle anything at this point. Sometimes, he feels invincible for weeks on end and then it’ll crash and he’ll feel like the most fragile human in the world.

Once his hair’s dry, he grabs his Walkman and shoves his Scorpions cassette inside. He puts the headphones over his ears and shoves his wallet and lighter in his back pocket, turning the volume up on the Walkman before stalking through the kitchen, passed Max and Susan and slams the front door behind him. He skips the first couple bus stops he sees, decides he’ll catch the one by the abnormally placed gas station in the suburb. He buys a pack of smokes, shoots the shit with the guy behind the counter and even asks if they’re hiring, which, they’re not but he didn’t really want to work here anyways.

He catches the bus that’ll take him to the surf shop. Familiar scenery passes by, this is a route he was taking pretty often but he hasn’t had enough money to buy anything from there as of late. His boards in terrible need of a new wax job but Neil’s got a long list of chores he’d make Billy do if he caught him having any free time. Which reminds him, he needs to take a look at the kitchen sink whenever he gets back. Neil’d been bugging him about it for at least two weeks and his patience won’t last much longer.

The bell dings as he opens the door and the owner, Walter gives him a cheerful wave.

“Billy! I’d hate to see the other guy,” he greets him as Billy makes his way to the counter.

He snorts, “Yeah, I didn’t stick around to see it myself.”

“Well, shit, you’re a pacifist out on the ocean but I know you’re a real force out there on the street,” Walter says with a easy smile, “Bet you did a real number on whoever the guy was.”

Billy shrugs, “Thanks, man. I feel a little silly about it, probably should’ve been more careful but—“

“Shit happens, kid. You can’t let people push you around, gotta fight when the occasion presents itself,” Walter tilts his head as he gives Billy a pointed look, maybe a sympathetic one. “What brings ya in? It’s probably about time to rewax your board, eh?”

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Billy bounces on his feet before saying, “Actually… I was wondering if you needed help around here. My old man says I need a job and well, he’s right.”

Billy feels like he’s asking for a handout which is odd and he shouldn’t feel that way. Asking for a job isn’t asking for help, Neil would be calling him a pussy right about now.

“Damn,” Walter sighs, “it’s the season and all but I really can’t afford it. I could put you on the team and then you’d get all the hook ups but I bet your old man wants you making money.”

The rejection shouldn’t hurt as bad as it does, he kind of anticipated this. Walter’s never had an employee the entire time Billy’s been coming here. His daughter helps out but that’s obviously free labor.

“Yeah, man, I gotta get like a real job. Grow up and all that. I’d fucking love to be on the team but with a job and all, I don’t know how much time I’d have to be surfing… which fucking blows.”

Walter nods, “Age old problem. Life gets in the way of things you really want, but you know the waves’ll always be there for you, no matter what.”

Billy bites his lip and he nods along with Walter’s words. This dudes a bit of a hippie but Billy thinks he’s wise, he always says things that stick in his head.

“I can help you out with something else though,” Walter points at him before he disappears behind the beaded curtain that leads to the back. He reemerges with a tied off ziploc bag with a couple of nugs of weed inside. Billy grins from ear to ear, extending his hand to grab the gift.

“Thanks, man,” he beams, “That’ll definitely be helpful.”

“Now get out of here,” Walter smiles back, “Good luck on the job hunt and hey, make sure you make time for the things you like.”

“I will,” Billy assures him, though he tastes like a lie on his tongue.

///.

Rejection after rejection, Billy lands himself a job as a goddamn bag boy at the Alpha Beta Susan shops at. He’s irritated but after ten no’s from jobs he thinks he wouldn’t mind, he’d take anything. He’s just glad they hired him because his next stop was the Burger King in the same shopping center.

He starts tomorrow, 9 AM sharp. Billy catches the bus back home, bored of the Scorpions album and he scolds himself for not thinking ahead enough to at least bring another fucking cassette. Whatever, it’s only a ten minute bus ride back. He figures he’ll get home, tell his dad the good news and then call you to see what’s the move tonight.

He rips the headphones off his head once he gets to his stop, standing before the bus comes to a complete stop and the inertia makes him wobble on his feet. He can see Max messing around on her skateboard in front of the house and Susan watching her from the steps. They don’t acknowledge him as he trudges past and up the stairs into the house. He prefers it that way, wishes his dad never even fucking met Susan.

Neil’s sitting on the couch like he usually is after work, already working on his nth beer. Billy can feel his calmness though, his dads usually nice after he’s been locked in his room. However, maybe nice isn’t the right word, there’s always an lingering hint of resentment towards Billy.

“Got a job,” he says flippantly as he walks into the kitchen.

“Good,” is all Neil says and that’s it. That’s the extent of the interaction. Billy palms the phone, pressing it to his ear as he dials your number, the third number he’s ever memorized. He tries to forget his aunts number, that’s where his mom had gone at first when she left but she didn’t stay there long and he hasn’t called it since he aunt told him so.

“Hello?” your voice answers and Billy peers out of the kitchen to see if his dads paying attention.

“Hey, it’s me,” he says as he looks over Neil’s intense expression, not peeling his eyes away from the TV.

“Oh, thank god. I was getting pretty close to coming over there to blow you through the window,” your tone is teasing and it’s a relief to Billy, the way you can make him feel alright even with his father mere feet away.

“Oh, shit, pretend I didn’t call,” he replies with a whisper, grinning from ear to ear.

“Shut up,” you reply, “You coming over here then? My parents aren’t home.”

They never are but Billy doesn’t say that. It’s a rather touchy subject for you.

“Yeah, give me half an hour and I’ll be there,” he says, “See you then.”

He hangs up, feeling guilty that you can’t banter back and forth for long but Billy’s sure you’re used to it. You’ve both made the mistake of talking dirty on the phone before realizing Neil was listening to the whole conversation from the line in his bedroom.

He goes to his room to change, fix up his hair and reapply deodorant and cologne. He grabs his backpack, dumping a few cassettes in before the baggie of weed, a pair of grey sweats and a cropped Zeppelin shirt. As he’s walking passed the living room he glances to his dad, their eyes meet and Neil sighs.

“Where are you going?”

“To see my girlfriend,” Billy supplies and studies Neil’s face, waiting for him to say no.

“Don’t be out too late,” he says, dejectedly, like he was debating on letting him go and some kind of guilt won.

“Yes, sir,” Billy nods before rushing out the door, blowing past his step sister as she’s walking up the porch steps.

///.

You answer the door in the skimpiest outfit Billy’s ever seen you in. A cropped, ribbed tank top that your nipples poke through and your underwear. White ones with a pink rose in the center of the hem.

“Fucking Christ,” he mumbles as you grab a hold of his shirt and yank him inside. You shut the door behind him and push him against it, standing on your top toes to press a tender kiss to his lips before dropping to your knees. Billy drops his backpack and watches you with stars in his eyes, your fingers making quick work of his belt. He’s only half hard when you get his cock out, but as you lick around the head it fills out easily. You hum happily before dragging your tongue up and down his shaft. Your eyes look hungry, like you’ve been fucking desperate to do this since you stood outside his window three days ago. It makes his cock twitch, against your broad tongue and he groans, chewing on his bottom lip as he watches with dreamy eyes.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” you admit, breathlessly as your wrap your fingers around him at the base.

“I’ve missed you too— ahh!” his response turns into a whiny moan as you squeeze him in your hand.

You give an appeased giggle with your tongue still pressed to the length of him, his reaction spurring your actions. You lick up the vein on his shaft and stop at the ridge of his tip, focusing on the part you know is his most sensitive, flicking your tongue against it.

“Fuuuuck,” he groans out, his head rolling back to meet the door.

You’ll never get sick of the sounds he makes, never get tired of his fat cock, never get bored of Billy. You’re fucking consumed by him, so unbelievably infatuated with him. You’d do anything he asked of you in a heartbeat and though you’re more than sure it isn’t reciprocated so deeply, you don’t care. You’ll give him everything you can regardless if he gives it back.

You wanna tease, turn him into a puddle before you give in so you push his jeans and briefs to his ankles and start licking at his balls, you can feel how tight they are. He lets out a pathetic little whimper and you moan at it, tentatively taking one of his balls in your mouth as you stroke his cock with your hand. You can feel his thighs tensing with every movement and it’s got your head reeling, the way he reacts aides in the overwhelming arousal flooding your core. You feel special that you’re the one who gets to touch him like this. He could have any fucking woman he wants and by some miracle, it’s you he wants.

Billy shoves his fingers in your hair, panting out your name as you mouth at his sack. His cock leaks, more than you’ve ever witnessed and you pull back to look at him as you press your thumb against his slit, smearing the precrum over his head.

Your eyes meet and he smirks with his teeth showing and fuck, it makes you melt.

“Can’t believe you didn’t wanna do this through my window,” he says, voice already wrecked.

Your cheeks flush, “I did! Just like, nervous or something. Wasn’t sure we’d be successful.”

He lets out a deep laugh at that, “Oh, we’d make it work, little lady, I’m sure about that.”

You purse your lips, eyes intent on his as you begin stroking his cock again. Billy grunts out, licking against his lower lip as he watches your hand work.

“Don’t think it’d be smart… I’d have to touch myself on the front lawn while I did it,” you admit as your left hand dips into your underwear so you can get some relief yourself.

Billy groans, “But you wanna be a good little slut for me, don’t you?”

A giggle erupts from your throat, “Yes, sir.”

“Why don’t you put that mouth to good use, then?” he challenges and he’s beguiling, any demand he spouts off you’ll fulfill.

Wrapping your lips around the head of his cock, you slide your tongue against his slit as you peer up at him, wide eyed.

“Atta girl,” he purrs, eyelids heavy as he watches you. “So well behaved.”

You swallow him down a couple inches, breathing through your nose because he’s huge and your jaw is already aching. You hadn’t seen another guys cock so up close and personal but when you’d first seen Billy’s length, you were stunned. Sure, you’d seen them in magazines at that point but Billy was gifted, thick and long and at first it was intimidating but after a handful of conversations with your girlfriends, you discovered just how lucky you were. Actually, the first time Cindy had seen Billy’s cock, she’d pulled you aside afterwards and asked if it hurt. Initially, you berated her for looking but then admitted that yeah, occasionally it hurt. The first time was downright excruciating and you bled, but Billy was as careful as he could be. It wasn’t his first time but close to it and he apologized a lot, tried his hardest to be delicate but when he expressed how incredible it felt inside you, you preened and begged him to do whatever the hell he wanted to you. Billy almost choked, he had grabbed your hips so tight you bled and after a slew of thrusts, you melted into the mattress and experienced the most intense orgasm you’d ever felt. Billy was a mess of shock and pride when he made you cum, telling you he didn’t expect it to take you so early. Then he asked you to swallow his cum and the desperation of the way he asked made hooked you instantaneously. The taste wasn’t like you’d been warned about and maybe that had something to do with how fucking in love with him you were. When you told him how good it taste, a few more spurts of cum came out and you licked it all up.

The memories of it all has you taking him as deep as you can, his tip poking the back of your throat in the most intoxicating way. And then you look back up at him, and the sight of it makes you eager.

You pull off his dick and admit to him, “I’m sorry, I can’t fucking take it, I need you.”

He smirks, chuckling as kicks off his shoes, jeans and boots before he picks you up off your feet and carries you over to the couch. He gets on his knees between your legs, grabbing onto your underwear and pulling them off your legs before spreading your thighs wide. And he’s so talented with his tongue, Billy’s made you cum by eating you out countless times but right now, you’re desperate to feel him inside you.

“Please,” you plead, “fuck me. I need it.”

Billy bites your thigh, smoothing his hand up the other one, “Are you begging?”

“Yes,” you pant, “Please, Billy! Pretty please, just fuck me.”

He smirks, mouth inching closer to your core and then he mutters with surprise, “Holy fuck. You’re dripping. Making a fucking mess.”

“Need you,” you whine, “missed you so much.”

Billy shakes his head, a smug smile on his face but he gives you what you want, grabbing a hold of your thighs to pull you to the edge of the couch. He pressed the head of his cock to your clit and shakes it, making you whine his name out. He pushes it through your folds until he meets your dripping and fluttering hole, buries the head inside with a quick but fluid motion and you heave a relieved moan. You need more, need to feel him stretch and fill you up.

“I missed you too, doll,” he purrs and smooths his hand over your stomach in circles.

“More,” you whimper, rolling your hips in attempts to get him deeper inside you. Billy makes a strangled noise, bordering on a laugh and a moan, like your words and motion shock him a little.

“So impatient,” he tsks but grabs your hips tighter as he sheathes his length inside your aching hole all the way, his balls pressing against your ass.

Another sound falls past his lips, a gasp this time and he clenches his teeth as his eyes squeeze shut. But you need to see those blues looking back at you.

“Look at me,” you plead, reaching up to grab his bicep.

He leans forward, opening his eyes slowly as he begins to roll his hips slowly. The drag of his cock against your fluttering walls brings a wave of pleasure all over your body and you bite your bottom lip. Billy pants out, lips turning up slightly as he pumps in and out of you all too tenderly. You’ve been so eager to feel him again that you find yourself wanting him to just pin you down and relentlessly drill into you until your a shaking, squealing mess beneath him. But you always let Billy control how these moments go, a little too shy to tell him what you want and how you want it.

He moves his hands from your hips to glide up your sides and back down your thighs, his eyes darting around your body like he’s not sure where to look. It makes you feel good, feel pretty and wanted, desired. Sometimes you worry Billy’s just with you because it’s easy and not because he wants you. It’s all the stupid magazines you read, telling you if a man wants you, he’ll do everything to be with you. But Billy tends to live in a world where he’s the only thing he thinks of, or at least that’s how it can feel to you. So you take the attention where you can get it, and he gives it the most when you’re having sex.

“Oh, Billy,” you whine, grabbing a hold of his hand and intertwining your fingers, “Feels so good.”

“Yeah?” he grunts, curls falling across his forehead and bouncing with every thrust he gives. His nose scrunches up every other pump of his hips. You get lost in admiring him, all of those thoughts of self deprecation falling away. He smiles at you, bright teeth peeking out behind his lips before he leans down and captures your lips in his. You drape your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as you melt into the feeling of his tongue against yours. He set the pace for this to be romantic, and you’ll follow his lead every time.

You can tell he’s close when he breaks the kiss, little moans tumbling out of his lips and you wrap your legs around his waist. With the leverage you have now, you rock your hips up to meet his quickening thrusts. The promise of your own high warms your stomach and you can feel it getting closer and closer with every move Billy makes. The sounds he makes urge it along quicker, you wished you could record them and replay them back over and over. You press your palm to his cheek and connect your foreheads, matching the vulnerability he’s pouring out.

“Ah!” he moans out, higher than his normal voice and the prettiest sound you’ve ever heard. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Me first,” you plead, moving your hand down and rubbing quick circles against your clit to lure your orgasm out. Billy’s good, he holds off until you’re crying out and shaking against him as the waves of pleasure rip through you. Once he’s sure you’ve came, he pulls out of you and strokes his dick, rapid and short until he’s spilling his load onto his fist and your stomach.

“Ah,” he moans out, face scrunched up, “uh, fuck…”

He gives it a second before he’s standing up and it seems like he struggles for beat. You’re relieved and flattered to know that his legs also feel like jello afterwards. You sit up and smack his cute little butt as he turns to walk towards the bathroom. He turns his head to shoot you a glare and you beam up at him. When he returns, it’s with a warm, wet washcloth and he gets on his knees to clean you up. You’re still tender so when the rough material grazes your clit, your body shakes a bit and Billy shoots you a cocky grin. You roll your eyes before standing up and leading him into your bedroom after he grabs his clothes and backpack.

“When are your parents gonna be back?” he asks, changing into his cropped t-shirt and grey sweats. He looks so good you’re considering a second round already.

You smooth your hand over his muscular stomach and kiss his lips softly, “Long after you leave in the morning.”

“Good,” he smirks, reaching around to grab a handful of your ass and squeeze.

Your parents are still under the impression that Billy’s only your childhood friend and not your boyfriend. And you prefer to keep it that way. They don’t ask questions. He can hang around without you guys getting the dreaded safe sex talk. Because you know you two should be safer but Billy tells you condoms don’t feel great and you really dislike the rubbery smell from them. Besides, he always pulls out on time and in the few months you’ve been sleeping together, your period has come right on time every month. You trust him, he’s not like the guys your girlfriends have to told you about. He’s smarter, he doesn’t get dumb when his dicks hard. However, you do. You wonder and fantasize what it would feel like to have him cum inside you. You love the taste and the way it feels when it lands on your skin, you can only imagine it feels better inside.

You pull your comforter back and crawl in, looking up at Billy with stars in your eyes when he gets in after you. He kisses your cheek and temple as you pulls you close, sighing happily.

///.

Meat goes in a separate bag, if they ask for paper, Billy wraps the packs of meat up in a plastic bag and puts it inside. Chemicals too. Anything that’s not food, he has to bag separately. Only similar things can touch. Boxes of pasta and rice can go in the same bag. Eggs and bread can go in the same one, eggs on bottom. He has a system and not a single customer or cashier makes it an easy system, tossing items on the conveyor belt in which ever order they grab it in. Which makes for Billy sliding certain items to the side while he eyes what’s coming next, organizing it in his head before he reaches for them. It gains him quite a few looks and a couple of customers telling him to hurry, that they really don’t give a shit, they’re just gonna take it out of the bags when they get home. It also means he’s not the fastest bagger. A few of the regulars, lonely stay-at-home mothers, compliment him on his system, batting their eyelashes as they tell him, “Somebody taught you well.”

Except no one’s taught him this except himself. He remembers grocery shopping with his mom but can’t remember her being particularly about the way they were bagged. He just gets a panicked feeling whenever he feels like the items don’t go in the correct bags.

When he has to bag Susan’s groceries, she always gives him this look like he’s different and she has to be patient with him. It makes him feel embarrassed because she knows one of the reasons why Billy is like this. Neil was particular about things, instilled it in Billy to be organized but he thinks Neil wouldn’t give a shit how the groceries are bagged. It’s more along the lines of he hates clutter and Billy needs to keep his room clean, keep everything clean. Unfortunately, it’s turned into an obsession of Billy’s.

He remembers how his mother collected things. She found sentimental value in what Neil would call garbage. He remembers his dad boxing up all of the things she’d left behind and bringing Billy with to throw it all in the dump. He wasn’t allowed to go through it or keep anything. The only two items he had of his mothers was her necklace and a ring. He never took them off now. She gave them to him before she left, maybe before she even planned on leaving. It took years for the ring to fit, he thinks it was his grandfathers but he can’t remember. The necklace he knew was his mothers, she’d told him she got it when she was a little girl, after she was baptized and Billy hadn’t seen her without it on until she gave it to him. He hid it from his dad after she left and when he got a little older, he tried it on and hasn’t taken it off since. It’s kind of like she’s still with him that way.

“Billy?” he’s drawn out of his thoughts as his supervisor stands behind him.

“Yeah?” he turns, still holding onto the cellophane wrapped hamburger that started his thoughts spiraling.

“After this customer, why don’t you go ahead and collect carts?”

“But,” Billy turns to look at the line winding down the aisle, “It’s kind of busy in here.”

Mr. Vaughn smiles down at him condescendingly, “Sheryl can handle jumping between lines to bag.”

“Uh, okay,” Billy nods and turns to finish bagging the groceries he’s started on. Fine, he thinks, he could use a cigarette anyways. The workforce was bullshit. He hated it. Instead of being honest, his managers would just direct him to some dumb medial task. Billy just wishes they’d cut the bullshit and berate him for being too slow. His dad would tell him exactly what he was doing wrong, not try to skirt around his feelings.

Billy soaks in the sun as he walks outside, placing his aviators on his nose before reaching in his shirt pocket for his pack of cigarettes and lighting one up as he makes his way to the back of the parking lot. He likes getting the carts. His coworkers complain about it but Billy likes the alone time it provides, plus he gets a little stir crazy indoors. Nothing compares to the sunshine, reminds him he’s alive. The yellow fluorescent bulbs in the supermarket are dreadful, they wash everything in a horrible kind of sad light. And fucking Mr. Vaughn, poor old sap. Wasting his life managing a goddamn Alpha Beta. Probably has himself a boring, nagging old woman. Maybe a kid or two who will grow up not even knowing how damn pathetic their dear old dad is. His wife never knowing how her husband creeps on the teenage girls who work for him.

“Hey,” he hears as he’s trying to dislodge a cart somebody pinned between two trees. He turns to see a couple of his buddies from school. Billy hasn’t really had time to party like he used to. Can’t afford it, really. He’s got at least a month more of working before he can afford to even start looking at rides.

“Oh,” he nods, pinching the cigarette between his lips and flicking it to the asphalt, “What’s up, guys?”

“Nice uniform,” Rick preens sarcastically, “This why you haven’t been around much?”

Billy glances down to his white button up and bright red apron, name tag pinning the two garments together with a “My name is BILLY, how can I help you?” engraved on it. He snorts and bites back, “Trying to get a car, ya know how it is.”

Rick doesn’t. His dad bought him a AMC Spirit the day he turned sixteen. Rick crashed it into a pole about a week later and his old man just paid for the repairs like it was nothing.

“What are you guys doing here?” Billy asks, leaning his back against the cart he was retrieving.

The two boys shrug but Greg speaks up, “Just heard from a little birdie you worked here and thought we’d come pay you a visit.”

“Aw,” Billy pouts sarcastically, “I’m touched that you guys miss me so much.”

“How’s about we grab a couple of beers and head to the beach? There’s gonna be a bonfire tonight. Your girlfriend’ll be there,” Rick grins from ear to ear.

Billy tries not to focus too much on how Rick knows you’ll be there. You guys all share the same friends but since he’s been busy with work, you’ve been alone with the assholes he calls friends. He’s not too thrilled about it but reassures himself that you wouldn’t do anything stupid, thinks about how more often than not, you’re like a lost puppy following him around and that he thinks, you’re practically obsessed with him. There’s no way you’d fool around with any of these dirtbags, right?

“I’ve still got two hours of my shift, boys,” Billy says with a exaggerated frown. “Maybe after.”

“Aw, come on,” Greg pokes at Billy’s chest which upsets him more than it should, he almost grabs his finger and snaps it back but he’s still clocked in. “What’re they gonna do if you leave early?”

“Uh, fire me?” Billy says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, because it is. “Where’s the bonfire at? I’ll just meet you guys there.”

Neil might be pissed that he’s going out but he’s been staying home the past couple weeks, he deserves to relax a little. Plus, he’s got tomorrow off.

“Lame,” Rick scoffs but tells Billy where to meet them, “And bring a sixer! Maybe a bottle!”

Billy waves them off as they make their way back to Rick’s car.

The rest of his shift, he keeps checking his watch.

#billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x f!reader

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cdragons · 2 months

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Hey! I miss interacting with u, hope you are doing well :)

What is the song that will most describe farleighs and y/ns friendship?

Hey! This is really sweet, anon! THank you! I'm doing great, I have a ton of exams and projects with school that are kind of kicking my butt rn, but today's my birthday so I am excited to share that with my family!

This is a really tough one, mostly because I never expected this friendship to be so popular with everyone. Although I shouldn't be surprised because Farleigh Start was actually so superior in the movie.

Personally, I think these songs really fit them

Gimme More by Brittany Spears

Bad Girls by M.I.A

That's My Girl by Fifth Harmony (also works for Annabel and Y/N)

So What by P!nk

Is You or Is You Ain't My Baby by Louis Jordan and His Tympany Five (look up Marvelous Mrs. Maisel with this song and TELL me that this won't be the most amazing duet with the pair)

Let me know in the comments of your opnions!

I feel like this is a good opportunity to give off some headcanons to describe the vibes I get from Fareligh and Y/n! There are also just my personal headcanons of Farleigh and his story in my AU! I made up these with the help of my internet soulmate @ethereal-athalia!

Here are some headcanons of my personal take of Farleigh's backstory in my AU and in general:

Is it weird if I can see Fareligh coming from New Orleans, Louisiana? Because I can absolutely see him giving off those vibes. He would fit PERFECTLY as a New Yorker, but I can't help but feel he would thrive in the Crescent City.

Farleigh really misses the States, and a big part of the reason he parties so much is to forget how homesick he is. I find it very odd that we are given this extremely intelligent character who would no doubt thrive in an Ivy League like Yale, Harvard, or Brown, but he's stuck in England. James definitely could have just paid for his education there, so why send him to England? Furthermore, why does James cover him up so much? Is it really just because he's family?

Remember when Felix told Oliver that Farleigh got kicked out of every school in England bc he "sucked the teachers off"? First off, ew. Secondly, sure, Farleigh is a bit of a hedonist, but all of his behavior just kind of screams to me that he's really and genuinely unhappy in England and wants to go back. That might be a reason why he was so reluctant for Felix to get close to Y/N since Chapter 1 of 'Fuck Everything.'

Furthermore, it really bothers me how nonchalant Felix is about telling Oliver that piece of information. Even if he knows that Farleigh wouldn't really care, that is still very private information about a young boy who was taken advantage of by teachers who were in a position that allowed them to abuse their power.

Also, for a film that exposes so much about its characters, we really don't know a lot about Farleigh Start and his story, specifically his family in the States.

The part where Farleigh's mom is terrible with money and constantly needs handouts from her brother, James, is very realistic - that part, I believe. But I feel like there is a lot missing with his dad.

Was his dad actually as brutish and abusive as Felix said to Oliver? Personally, I don't really see it. Even at first glance, the way Farleigh carries himself is leagues different from the rest of the Cattons. He's observant and takes in details. He uses all this information as a weapon for any opponent he goes up against.

In my opinion, I could absolutely see Farleigh's dad being a completely normal and decent person with a job as a librarian or English professor. This idea is mostly stemmed from when Fareligh made the 'thus' argument against Oliver's essay at the beginning of the movie, and this seems like something Farleigh knows as if being explained about it from a very early age.

The reason I think his father is ill-portrayed is because I feel like Farleigh's mother met him while she was in America and was intrigued by his unassuming self and married him. But then she got bored because she wasn't living the high and expensive life she was living in England with her family.

Eventually, she got bored and decided to use Farleigh as an excuse to get money from James. Farleigh's dad might have wanted custody of his son but was threatened by his ex-wife that he would never see his son again.

Farleigh is aware of his mother's toxic tendencies, but she's his mother and he loves her anyway. He know she's leeching off of him to get to her brother. But what are his other options? Let her fend for herself?

This is probably so far-fetched and a huge reach, but the Cattons are portrayed as people who love to feed off their own sense of entitlement over others by showing of 'generous' and 'charitable' they are to take of other people. When anything bad happens to them, they wear it like a trophy. Maybe that's what happened with Farleigh?

NOW! Onto Farleigh and Reader (also ft. Michael Gavey bc he's bb):

Being around Y/N is like being at home for the first time in forever (cue Frozen song) for Farleigh. When they start talking, Y/N is extremely skeptical of his intentions because she thinks that he's just trying to help out Felix. But nope! He just wants a genuine friend.

Y/N makes it clear to Farleigh from the beginning that if he wants to be friends with her, he needs to be friends with Michael. Michael Gavey and Y/N L/N are a package deal. You want one? You get the other.

Farleigh keeps his friendship with Reader a secret from Felix and is helped by Annabel (our girl got a taste of true kindness, sees Felix Catton for the leech he is, and is now part of the Y/N protection club)

With Y/N, he doesn't feel the need to party or drink until he gets alcohol poisoning to have a good time. He learns to have quiet nights doing homework or playing stupid board games with made-up rules.

Michael and Y/N introduce him to DnD, and he's the classic Bard player who rolls for charisma and ends up f*cking his party out of danger every time. Michael is a paladin, and Y/N is a monk, in case you were wondering.

Y/N sometimes uses Farleigh to model for some of her portraits. She learns to appreciate him because she and Michael do need to be reminded sometimes that it's okay to cut loose at times and that spreading their wings won't kill them.

Y/N and Farleigh definitely geek out over art history and literature (symbolism, plot holes, motifs, etc.) and are BIG soul and blues fans. When they all hang out in Y/N's dorm, they will be listening to James Brown, Ella Fitzgerald, and Ray Charles till dawn.

Y/N is someone whom Farleigh can have actual mind-stimulating conversations with in a manner that's respectful but also wildly entertaining. They will discuss everything from rousing debates about politics and current events to philosophical queries about the omegaverse and mpreg.

Michael pretended he wasn't a fan until they caught him singing along to 'Hit the Road Jack' and they never let him forget it.

Also, Farleigh is a MAJOR Michael Gavey x Y/N fan. He wants them to get together SO BADLY! But he won't do this in a productive/uncomplicated way. Nonononono, he plans to make the most convoluted, dramatic, and needlessly complicated schemes to get these two nerds together for his own amusement. *Nudge* *Nudge* *Wink* *Wink*

Real talk though, Fareligh genuinely loves Y/N and her presence as a friend. He has all these expectations placed on him and fake friends who only want to be around him for his cousins. To be around someone who not only misses home like him but also truly appreciates him as an individual and not as a commodity for networking means the world to him.

If Y/N ever does go to Saltburn for the summer (*foreshadowing*), Farleigh will do everything in his power to make sure she won't get sucked into his relatives' fake and shallow schemes.

Also, as a bonus, he loves ranting and trash-talking Oliver with Y/N and Michael. It's like free therapy with better snacks because Michael always brings candy.

These are all the ones I can think of for now, but let me more in the comments or in my ask box if you want more! It really means so much that you guys love this AU so much!

Let me know if you want to be tagged in the comments for future Saltburn AU stuff!

"Fuck Everything, But Mostly Fuck You" Masterlist

Tagging: @ethereal-athalia, @arcielee, @valeskafics, @asa-do-your-thing, @aphroditesmoon, @axelsagewrites, @the1999kid, @poolnoodlerescuer, @aemondsbabe, @@winterblu2, @abaker74, @whereismymindnow, @agustdeeyaa, @iamavailablesstuff, @bonnieblue0606, @st-eve-barnes, @@nyxthoughtss, @immyowndefender, @@ilovemydinoboi, @ahristata, @cxp1d, @jinsoulorbitzen12, @temptation-waits, @bollzinurmouth, @jcngw0ns, @seababehh, @destinydestnation, @lankyboi4, @mindless-rock, @cassavacake, @paradisepoison, @@pansexualpamandabear, @erikasurfer, @@lissamans, @cookielovesbook-akie, @thesmutconnoisseur, @izzyisstuff, @lariisouz, @mioshasworld, @themorriganisamonster, @bre99, @babypinkditto

#saltburn x reader #saltburn #saltburn crack #saltburn au #michael gavey x reader #felix catton x reader #farleigh catton #farleigh start #venetia catton #oliver quick #michael gavey #saltburn 2023 #saltburn movie #farleigh start x reader #saltburn thoughts #saltburn spoilers #my ramblings

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spacelazarwolf · 2 years

Note

Would it be out of pocket to suggest that some trans women still have some remaining ingrained misogyny or perhaps jealousy that causes them to lash out at trans mascs and afab nonbinary people?

i think it would be out of pocket to suggest that trans women are uniquely prone to ingrained misogyny, or that the engrained misogyny trans women may have is somehow inherently worse or more harmful than others’. that being said, i think that everyone who grows up in a misogynistic society has engrained misogyny they need to address and unlearn, and this includes trans women and femmes. i’ve had really productive conversations with several trans femme friends about their process of coming out and unlearning the things they grew up being told about women, how those things affected both the way they interacted with cis women and trans people who were afab and how they saw themselves, how they handled their feelings of jealousy toward folks they perceived as having the body or experience they wanted but thought they couldn’t achieve.

i personally have experienced misogyny from trans women, but it was different than misogyny i’d experienced from cis men or cis women. cis men often leaned into the stereotypes of women being “weak” or “incompetent” or needing to be saved. i had a cis male professor who white knighted so damn hard after i told him i’d been abused by an ex and was recovering from that that i had to literally leave the school because he was making it impossible for me to actually get an education. the experiences i had with cis women were often based around competition or body image. my mom, who is a cis woman, had me on diets from the age of 10 because she didn’t want me to be fat. she spent hours and hours of her life encouraging disordered eating behaviors because she wanted me to look like the perfect image of a nice little girl. the experiences i had with trans women were often based around jealousy, as you mentioned, but it was a very different jealousy than i’d experienced from cis women (mostly because my body type was not something cis women were very jealous of because i was fat and not conventionally attractive.) i had a trans woman tell me that it was transmisogynistic of me to want to physically transition because “trans women would kill to be born in your body.” when comparing those three experiences with misogyny, it was clear that cis men’s misogyny often came from a place of wanting to feel dominant, and was often much more violent. but for cis women and trans women, it was about making me into what society expected me to be in this body. trans women’s misogyny may have been different from cis women’s, but it much more resembled cis women’s than cis men’s, and even though it cut deeper coming from fellow trans people it was not even close to the same level of violence i’d experienced from cis men.

so basically, i think it’s complicated. trans women aren’t uniquely misogynistic, their relationship with misogyny (both experiencing it and perpetuating it) is just different because of their unique experiences as women who are also trans. they have as much a responsibility to unlearn engrained misogyny as the rest of us do and should be held accountable, but shouldn’t be held to higher standards simply because they are trans women. the goal should never be to use engrained or internalized misogyny (or any other kind of harmful biases) as a weapon to prove someone is Bad. the goal should be to help people unlearn harmful biases and support each other to make the world better for everyone.

#ask avishai #trans

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thebluestbluewords · 5 months

Text

the children crave the coffee

shameless ot5 babyfic, only it’s set during the time before the actual baby, when they’re discussing the theoretical parenting of a kid.

“It’s called being diurnal, and based on this kids genetics, they probably won’t be.” Evie adds. “Honestly, we probably couldn’t have made better odds for a nocturnal kid if we’d planned it.”

Ben sticks his head out of the walk-in closet, which they’d been considering as an adjacent-but-separated baby room, with a hurt look on his face. “Hey, I resent that. I sleep.”

“Mhm,” Evie hums. “When?”

“At night.”

“During what hours, babe? Given the chance to sleep whenever you want.”

Ben goes delightfully red when he’s embarrassed. Like a little ripe tomato.

“Normal ones?” he offers, “Very normal and respectable ones?”

“Lies!” Evie says delightedly. “You were awake until three am the last time we had a weekend off. I’ve seen your game stats, and I know how long you were playing the sims.”

Ben groans, and knocks his head into a wall. “I’m going to unfriend you on stream if you’re going to use your friend code powers for evil.”

Evie cackles. “You can try, but I’ll log into your computer while you’re asleep and share them again. There’s no way to hide your sims addiction from your loving wife.”

There’s a thud from the kitchen area. “I’ll hide your game stats!” Carlos calls. “But you have to help me raise our kid nocturnally!”

“No deal! They’ve got to be functional in regular society!”

Carlos bounces back into the bedroom area. “Coffee is the answer. Kids love coffee. It’s how they have so much energy.”

“I don’t think we can give coffee to an infant,” Ben says, but his expression looks suspiciously like he’s considering it. “That feels….wrong.”

“Start ‘em out with mostly milk, build up to it. It’ll be fine.”

“I feel like anything you say with this much confidence has got to be wrong.” Ben says slowly, which is probably the right thing to think, or whatever. It’s not like any of them have ever had parents who actually cared enough to pay attention to what they were drinking. “I feel like I’m going to look in one of the parenting books and it’s going to say that any drip of coffee that passes a child’s lips before ten is basically a death sentence.”

“The parenting books actually say fifteen,” Evie adds. “And it’s not a death sentence, just child abuse.”

“Fuck off.” Carlos says, sharp, like it’s a reflex. “No it’s not.”

“I was drinking espresso before I turned ten.” Mal says. She’s pretty sure the coffee isn’t the part of her childhood that was abusive, but Auradon has different standards. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, me too.” Jay adds.

“Don’t do this—“ Evie starts. “No—“

“I don’t think the coffee was actually the part of my childhood that was abusive. I think it was the way my dad hit me, actually.” Ben says thoughtfully. They don’t often give him the chance to join in when they get into the shitty parts of their childhoods, so this is actually good. It’s a bonding experience, and Mal should swallow down the part of her that wants to rip king Beast’s head off.

“I think the fact that my mom wouldn’t give me coffee was more abusive than the other stuff.” Carlos chimes in.

“No, that’s definitely wrong.” Evie says firmly, “because if you’re not claiming child abuse it means the rest of us can’t either. I’m pretty sure that giving your tiny child chemical burns is more abusive than denying them coffee, and while I’m not an expert, I am willing to go to court over this if you’d like.”

“I think your mom starving you was pretty bad. You don’t have to have the same problems to count as abused.”

“I know that, but it’s more the principle of the thing.” Evie says, frowning. “I feel guilty calling myself an abused child if you’re not doing the same thing.”

“Solidarity.” Carlos says, nodding.

“I suppose so,” Evie says doubtfully, “but really I think it’s because I came out so well-adjusted compared to the rest of you.”

#my fic #descendants #I am fully aware that these versions are so far divorced from canon that I’m basically playing with OCs #but I’m having fun and looking cute and that’s what matters I think #kidfic #cinderella verse

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psi-spectacular · 5 months

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THE INTERNS, RANKED BY HOW GOOD THEIR RELATIONSHIP WITH THEIR PARENTS ARE (Based on my hcs)

CW for mentioned emotional abuse and neglect

Morris - Despite being an orphan, has the best relationship out of everyone with his adoptive parents. He has two moms and they're butch lesbian rockabilly peruvians. Nuff said.

Gisu - Fatherless behavior. She's being raised by her mom and grandparents who pretty much let her do whatever she wants out of some unspecified guilt they never seem to want to talk to her about. But they're chill enough and she really can't complain, though sometimes she feels like they're avoiding her on purpose..

Adam - Suprisingly? Not the worst out of the interns. Still not good. I've said this before, He's got a lot of siblings, cousins, aunts, uncles, ect, ect. Big extended family, Mostly on the very successful and gifted side. And he's... neither of those. His biggest achievements are being Truman's intern and that time he reached the quarterfinals of the county debate tournament. He's surrounded by ivy bound prodigies and musical geniuses and he's just... some history buff. He fades into the background noise, and feels like he's failing his parents. His father in specific.

Sam - It started out fine, but then Dogen accidentally blew up a bullies head. Then she was left alone for hours at a time when they were going to hospitals and lawyers and wherever else. She spent most of her days in the companionship of animals, almost always got up whenever Dogen was hungry or sick or had a nightmare, just to feed him and make sure he was okay. They basically treated her like a third adult when she was like 10, venting to her and letting her do most of the chores in the house when they were away, and they never really left her with a babysitter because she's "so mature for her age". It's left her with a very dysfunctional view of relationships and uses the animals as a way to feel like she has some control over her life and that she isn't a servant, she can lead too.

Norma - Her and lizzie's mom is preeetty sucky and pretty much parades her around as a way to say "Look! I'm not a transphobe! I let my trans daughter wear dresses!" Despite being pretty transphobic in secret and how she passes laws. Her mom sees most things as an exchange, and her and Lizzie always used to fight for her love through academics, But Lizzie's pretty much given up on trying to appease her, so despite her powers being seen as "less rare", she's the preferred child now. Though, in the back of her head, she desperately wishes she had her sister's freedom. Should I add the two of them had a catholic upbringing? Big amount of guilt on her end but at the same time a sense of superiority and entitlement. Raz makes her feel threatened in her status as "#1 student" and she's very aggressive about it.

Lizzie - She's just given up on her relationship with her parents. No matter what they do, she isn't going to go back to constant competition and stress. She'd rather be a high school slacker who hangs out with "the wrong crowd" (poorer punk kids who prefer to dumpsterdive than buy their clothes) and actually have a social life than fighting for the spot of "perfect precious angel child" for the rest of her life. No matter how many punishments they give her or how much they scold her for wearing "rags". But it stil hurts that they've stopped setting a plate on the table for her because "you're never home anyways."

#psychonauts #headcanons #cw emotional abuse #cw neglect #psychonauts 2 #morris martinez #gisu nerumen #adam joseph gette #sam boole #norma natividad #lizzie natividad

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darklydeliciousdesires · 9 months

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Lost & Found - Chapter Nine.

So then, my beautiful, wonderful audience. Those who are not new around these parts know that sometimes, treats are given in the form of a double update day with my stories, and guess what? Today is one of those days! I know you've all been waiting patiently for the sexual side of Emma and Guero's blossoming relationship to finally flower, so I thought I'd share it today in the next chapter! Has that made you smile? I hope it has! :)

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight

Words - 3,434

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, Minors DNI. Recounts of kidnap, child trafficking, physical/verbal/sexual abuse.

The more she revealed, it seemed, the more comfortable she became with sharing memories of her nineteen years held prisoner. Guero lay there and let her recount it all, being exactly what she needed, somebody to simply listen.

“Marie taught me how to shoot.” He had wondered at how well she seemed to handle the Beretta she’d pointed at his head, her handling of the firearm steely and confident. “There were guns kept all over the house, so there’d always be one within easy reach, just in case. With whom Rocco was, he was a target, or rather his family were. He routinely pissed off other mob families, so of course anyone he cared for became a target, a weak point.

“She wanted me to be able to protect myself from such a threat, but mostly, if Rocco himself ever became so unhinged that I felt my life was in danger. “Shoot him dead, and we’ll figure it out somehow afterward”, is what she used to tell me. How we would have figured that out beyond running for our lives, I don’t know. His guys would have hunted us down.”

She paused for a moment, tears beginning to swim within her eyes. “I hate myself, for leaving her. Joey, Alessia and Mikey, too. I loved them so much, they were like my siblings for Christ’s sake! It’s a guilt that’ll never leave me, that I ran and they’re all still stuck there! She became my mother, and I abandoned her!”

“Hey, no,” he began, touching his fingers under her chin, gently lifting her head. “You don’t have to feel guilty about a thing. I get that you miss her, she made the hell he put you through bearable where she could, but Marie chose that life, Emma. Nobody forced her.

“She knew who she was marrying, and I’m not saying that in the end she had an easy choice to get away from him, ‘cuz I can see from what you told me he’d have killed her for it, but you found a way out. You took your chance, and you got free. If she loves you as much as it seems she does, then she’ll be fucking happy as hell the girl she counted as one of her own got free of him.”

She absorbed his words, realising that no matter how unpleasant it felt, what he’d said was the plain, simple truth. If she didn’t assume her to be dead via Rocco’s hand, Marie would be quietly rejoicing her escape. “Is it wrong that I feel more of a maternal bond with her than I do my actual mom? I feel guilty for that, too. When I hear the word mom, I think of Marie, not Cassie.”

He shifted slightly beneath her, Emma moving a little as he turned onto his side, resting his head on his arm. “It might sound cold, but it’s fact. Marie was in your life longer than your birth mom. I kinda guess it’s only natural you’d think that. Doesn’t mean you love Cassie any less, or that you can’t reconnect with her now you’re free.”

“But, but,” she began, her throat swelling on a rising lump, “that’s the thing, there is no Cassie. When I was twenty-five, we sat and looked on the internet, I begged her to look up my family. I just wanted to know if they were okay. Mom died back in two thousand and thirteen from breast cancer. My dad, he passed away six years ago, motorbike accident. All I have left is Dylan, who is still in Spokane. My grandparents, too, unless anything happened in the interim.

“I’ll never see my mom and dad again, and I loathe him, I detest him completely that he robbed me of those years with them, that they both died not knowing what had happened to me! As if me being taken wasn’t bad enough. It left Dylan all alone, no immediate family, and it’s all because of him!”

She fell apart at that point, naturally so, sobbing against his chest as Guero held her. Again, he had no idea what to say to that, knowing it would take a man greater with words than he was to offer verbal comfort. Instead, he was just there, not knowing that truly that was all she needed from him, just someone to be there. It wasn’t about words. Listening was enough, as he continued to do, Emma sharing more with him about her life within the gilded cage prison that was the Lombardi mansion.

“He used to virtually pimp me out to his friends too at parties.” Once again, Guero felt his anger flare like a firecracker, grinding his teeth as his jaw tightened. “I always wanted to enjoy sex, but none of them ever made it feel good for me, all too consumed by their own pleasure to give a damn about mine. As long as they got to lie between the legs of a pretty, young blonde, that was good enough.

“There was only one of them who was different. His underboss, Vincent Calabrese never laid a hand on me. I was offered to him, and for appearances in front of Rocco and the others he always accepted, but once we got into the bedroom, he just sat down beside me on the bed and we talked. He said he wasn’t in the habit of defiling little girls, but even when I was over the age of consent, he still wouldn’t.

“He staunchly disagreed with what was being done, the child trafficking. ‘It’s an affront to god, snatching children from their families’ is what he always used to say. He always opposed it, and Rocco knew that, but ultimately went along with what was being done for the sake of a quiet life, and I guess not ending up with a bullet between his eyes either. This leads me to something that you guys should all know, EZ especially.

“You’re running heroin for him now, but all that will change if Rocco has his way, and believe me, he will. You guys are in his pocket now, which means in his mind, he owns you. You’re all to do with as he pleases, and what he pleases is to start bringing children across the border. Undocumented migrants are much easier to move, and get away with moving, too. I overheard him talking about it, it was always a two birds with one stone deal for him. He’d get you used to the money first, and then tell you that your consignment would begin to include kids as well.”

Guero pushed himself up, his eyes rounding as he looked down at her. “For real, that motherfucker wants us in on trafficking kids?”

His horror at the very suggestion was telling over the person he was. Although still a criminal, he was a man with the kind of morals that had been few and far between in the world she had escaped from. “Eventually, yeah.”

“And if we refuse?” He didn’t need to ask, really. He could guess.

She made a gun motion against the side of her head, couple with a soft exclamation of ‘pow’. “He’d wipe you all out and move onto the next nearest charter, using your eradication as an example of what happens when people push back against him.”

The weight of the mafia. That was a war they definitely wouldn’t win, and he knew that for sure. Rocco Lombardi could crush them all, very easily, too. “I have to take that to EZ. Not now, of course, but at some point over the weekend, call a templo. Will you be okay to come and tell us what you know?”

She smiled, reaching to stroke his hair. “Of course, I will.”

They remained quiet for a time after, Emma needing the silence. Her legs remained in tangle with his as she reached for the tequila bottle, taking a long glug, the alcohol burning her throat. She felt a little drunk and numb, which was what she had needed in order to sit there and offload it all to another person. “There’s more I could tell you about my life, but right now, I feel drained. Like I need air, too. Can you give me a minute?”

“Yeah, take as long as you need.” He reached to stroke her face, Emma turning her head and kissing his palm, getting up and letting herself out of the front of the house. The cool air hit her, soothing to her frayed nerves, the residual effects of her revelation hanging onto her, though.

“Hey, boo.” Of course, Tyrone would notice her out there, always keeping the watch. She walked over to his window, her shoulders heavy, watching him emerge from behind the swathe of curtain fabric. “Damn, you look all sad and shit. Fuckboy bin’ actin’ up?”

She shook her head. “No, no he’s great. Listen, I know you deal, so I figure I’m in the right place. Can you sell me a joint? That’s all I want, just one.”

He looked entertained at the naivety of her question, that it was the norm for dealers to exchange such a small amount. Tyrone, for all of this mouth and uncouthness was kind, though. “I ain’t selling you shit, white girl. This is on me, hold on.”

She smiled. “Thank you, you’re great.”

He beamed, reaching to grab his rolling tray, locating one of his pre-rolled joints. “Ain’t I, though? I know fuckboy rarely smokes it, so just remember I gotchu if you ever need a lil’ hit.” The truth was, neither did she. She’d occasionally partook of it back in her old life, secretly taking from Rocco’s personal stash which he smoked to ease his chronic migraines. It helped her feel more relaxed in the utter brutal chaos of her life. It smelled and tasted awful, but she enjoyed the calming buzz.

Tyrone passed a joint and a lighter through the window. “Enjoy, boo.” She smiled, leaning in and kissing his cheek. “Aw, lawdy! I gotta kiss from a pretty girl, hell yeah!”

She laughed softly, shaking her head and lighting up, moving to sit on the front step of Guero’s side of the house, taking a long drag. God, that was some nice weed. She coughed a few times, the usual, barky rasp associated with smoking weed, her throat tickling.

“Yo!” She turned to see a large arm thrust through the window, a can of soda proffered forth. “If you don’t like mango then I can’t help you. Oh, hold up. I might have a Fanta somewhere.”

Walking back over, she took the can. “Thanks, Tyrone. You keep your Fanta, mango and I are good.” She moved back to the step, opening the soda and sipping it, the tickle clearing nicely before she took another little puff, looking out across the street into the darkness. The only sounds audible were that of the game Tyrone was playing, and the chirp of cicadas. It was somewhat relaxing in ambience.

The weed had an instant calming effect upon her, all of the brutality that would endlessly echo through her memories placated and pushed back again, back behind the fortress walls in her mind. She’d had to keep it there for years to have even had a chance of remaining sane through her ordeal. God, she couldn’t believe that she’d actually escaped it, found somebody who she could trust, someone who for all intents and purposes was slowly becoming all hers, too.

“As if you’re out here getting high on my front step. Not even I do that.” Turning, she saw Guero emerge from the house, moving to sit behind her, his legs flanking her body as he stretched.

“Well, that’s because you don’t smoke weed,” she chirped, watching him frown before plucking the joint from her.

He took a few puffs, handing it back, holding in a cough until the tickle passed. “I do, but not often. It has too much of an effect on me, and I can never get the balance right.”

“The balance between what?”

“Between a nice buzz and ragingly horny.”

“Ahh.” She nodded, looking entertained, the stoned giggled welling up within her. “I somehow don’t think you need any extra boosting in that department.”

He moved her hair, kissing the side of her neck. “A hundred percent correct, mamacita. And since I guess you’re probably drunker now than you were earlier, I’m not risking that balance any further, so you finish it. Kinda figure you need the sedation after everything you told me.”

“Oh, you’re not wrong there,” she spoke, eyes widening a little as she leaned back against him. “Even if I was sober, sharing all of that has kinda dampened my desire.”

He snorted softly, arms tightening around her. “Understandable. S’okay, I can wait.”

“Can you?” she giggled, the sound joining the noise of the cicadas.

“Mm.” he hummed, kissing her neck again. “Just.”

Just then, the curtains next door began moving, Tyrone’s boom sounding. “Goddamnit, will you two go back in that house and bust some furniture already? Shit!” They both snort laughed, Guero resting his forehead to her shoulder, Tyrone continuing. “You better sort yo’ damned mess, fuckboy! Because I am one pretty smile away from makin’ that fine assed lil’ honey mine, you hear?”

“Yeah, I hear,” he called through his laughter, “and I see, too. Plying her with weed and soda.”

“I know what the ladies like! If she’s still out here in a half hour, she gets the first slice of my pizza, too!”

“Exactly, you gotta give me a head start against your half ton of raw charm, dog,” he chuckled, Tyrone emerging further from the curtains.

“Hey, I might be a big fella, but I’m no fuckin’ half ton! I’m thick and juicy, drives the chicks wild!”

“Tyrone, you ain’t thick, my man. Your ass is so fat, if I swerved my bike to miss you, I’d run outta gas.” There was a pause, a squawking laugh emanating from the window, Emma thinking it hilarious a man with such a low, rumbling voice had a laugh so high in pitch. All banter with their hilarious neighbour aside, they remained outside until she had finished the joint, heading back in and returning to bed.

“Do you feel better for telling me everything?”

Resting her head against his chest, she nodded, her nails tracing the outline of one of the spiderweb tattoos that spread out across each of his shoulders. “I do, you know. Whether the nightmares will stop because of it, I don’t know. I think I might need further help to recover from it all. Kinda scared about registering with a doctor, though, putting my name back out there. He’ll be looking for me, and if he finds any record of a twenty-nine-year-old woman named Emma Louise Taylor anywhere, he’ll come for me.”

Her muscles stiffened at just the thought, Guero turning to wrap both arms around her, feeling her relax into his embrace after a few moments. “We’ll work something out.” She fell asleep in his arms, those early morning hours passing dreamlessly, neither waking until 10am the following morning.

Rising from her place curled against him, Emma rubbed her eyes, looking down at the chiselled tattoo canvas that had been her pillow. Her safe person, the kind of man she’d dreamed would one day save her from her fate, and there he was... snoring like a brontosaurus. She couldn’t help but giggle softly, thinking that was a part perhaps not strictly included in the romanticism of her fantasies.

He cracked an eye open, his grin widening. “What are you laughing at?”

“Isn’t it obvious? The noise! You snore like something hell spat up for being too loud.”

“I wasn’t snoring,” he began stretching, the other eye opening eventually. “I was doing mindful breathing.”

Immediately, she cracked up, leaning to place a kiss against his stubbly jaw. “There’s nothing mindful about those sawn logs.”

She had a point, he guessed, Guero turning onto his side and wrapping his arms around her. “Yeah, but I’m cute. I get away with it, don’t I?”

“Yeah,” she agreed, turning her head back to kiss him, “you do have that going for you.”

“And a whole lot more.”

Biting the corner of her lip, she shifted against him, a little wiggle that stirred him exactly where she intended him to be stirred. “Feel like showing me?”

“Mm.” His arms tightened around her, kisses scattered against the side of her neck. “I need coffee and a shower, then trust me, I’ll spend all morning showing you.”

Now that was a statement definitely on a par with her fantasies. He left the bed first, taking a shower, calling to her that he’d left in on for her as he made his way through to the kitchen. It was while she was under the warm water looking down at herself that a stab of panic prickled against her guts.

He’d see her naked. All of her.

While she had body confidence in her shape, the littering of scars that marked her sides and lower back made her feel ugly. Some had faded to white, but there were still a few dark pink markings that remained. All were raised scar tissue, triangular shapes of knife points pressed into her skin, the burning brand of a hot blade searing Rocco’s displeasure branded onto her skin forever.

As she dried off, her eyes found them again, wondering if they’d really be all too noticeable if the blinds remained drawn in the bedroom.

“Of course, they will," she muttered, beginning to sniff. All she wanted was to move on from it all, enjoy the basic human right of a consensual sexual relationship with another adult, someone of her actual choosing, yet the literal scars of the past held her back.

A soft tap sounded upon the partly open door. “Em, you want a coffee?”

Em. No one had ever called her that before. She liked it. “No, thank you.”

“You alright.”

“Yeah.”

Her pinched voice alluded to the contrary. “No, you’re not. Can I come in?”

“Yeah.” Tightening the large, white bath towel around herself again, she wiped her eyes on the back of her hand, trying to compose her upset.

“So, people who are alright stand here crying, huh?” Him and his smart mouth. He was right in his light sarcasm, though. “What’s wrong, baby?”

Baby. He'd called her that back when he’d first found her. How different the intent behind the word was now. “The scars I have,” she began, gulping, hoping she could swallow down the lump she had painfully swelling in her throat. “You’ll see them, and they’re hideous. They make me ugly. You’ll think they look ugly.”

He frowned, lifting her chin with a gentle touch of his fingers as he began shaking his head. “I’ve never liked people making my mind up for me. That includes you, mamas.” His hands pressed softly on her shoulders, resting his forehead against hers. “I’ve got no problem with whatever scars you have, and I’m not gonna think you’re ugly because of ‘em. Only thing that is, is that low opinion you have of yourself. If you want, leave a t shirt on. I don’t mind. I’d prefer you naked, but whatever makes you comfortable, I’m good with.”

She could fetch a t shirt, or she could just be brave and let him see her. All of her. She’d bared her soul to him already, after all. Indecision made her heart quicken, the soft stroke of his fingertips at her upper arms soothing as she reached for the towel and untucked it, letting it fall. Fighting the urge to cover herself with her arms, she looked anywhere but him as he took in her nudity, her body tensing when he moved his hands to stroke the scars she detested so much with careful attention.

Leaning close, he kissed the side of her head, his lips soft against her ear. “They aren’t who you are, and you’re not any less beautiful. They’re only the map of the journey that finally led you to me.”

Her throat tightened with emotion, his words so beautiful, she wanted to cry. The desire in his eyes as she finally looked at him dictated it might be poorly timed, though. This was not a time for lament and sadness. No. This was the time to plant her lips upon his and let him carry her to the bedroom.

#guero mayans mc #guero mayans mc fanfiction #guero fanfiction #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc #guero x ofc #guerl smut #mayans mc smut #mayans mc season 5 #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc fic

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