#but also just would love to flesh out/write something domestic about her breaking down over laundry | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luke-patterson-owns-my-soul · 3 years

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Kiss Me

Charlie Gillespie x Reader

Title: Kiss Me

Words: 1593

Summary: Charlie’s back from Hawaii and providing social media with all the content.

Requested: No. I had to write this after that video of Charlie singing in the bath tub…

TW: Implications of sexual intercourse, mostly the reader getting frustrated by Charlie being Charlie.

Author’s notes: I just wanted to write a bit of domesticity between Charlie and the reader, and thanks to all the content we got from him the other day, this kinda just fell into place. I hope you like it. - also, a little shout out to @dream-a-little-bigger-x because she’s been giving us some AMAZING fic content, and she isn’t feeling to great today. I hope this helps a little, Nele.

Three weeks without being able to see Charlie in the flesh had been hard. Yeah, he’d posted photos and videos while he’d been away in Hawaii with his castmates and Kenny, but it wasn’t the same. Neither were the intimate FaceTime calls the two of you shared pretty much daily. Nothing beat being able to wrap your arms around him, to feel the warmth of his skin against yours, to smell the scent that was intrinsically him. Yeah, you’d missed him like crazy.

Checking your watch, again, before checking the arrivals board you leaned up against the wall behind you waiting for his flight to disembark the plane and make their way through to the arrivals lounge. You scrolled through your Instagram feed, checking out what people had been tagging your boyfriend in, amazed by the talent of his fans. More than anything, you wanted to share them, but as no one knew about you, you couldn’t. It was a good thing you ran a semi-popular fan account that you could do it all from, and your story was full of amazing artwork and song covers. As far as your followers knew, you were just another fangirl.

You were so engrossed in the pictures on the screen in front of you, you didn’t hear Charlie approaching you, didn’t know he was right in front of you until grabbed you by the waist, making you squeal in shock and almost drop your phone.

“Oh my God, Charlie. You scared me.” You laughed, flinging your arms around his neck, breathing him in.

“I would say I’m sorry, but my mom taught me that lying makes my nose grow and my tongue fall out. And I don’t think you’d want that.” He teased after placing a quick kiss on your lips.

“Well, no. But it would be quieter around the apartment.” Your response made him pull away and pout. “What? Am I lying?”

“I thought you loved me.” If he hadn’t been grinning like the loveable idiot he was, you would have believed his offended tone of voice was real.

“Oh, you know I adore you. Shall we go home?” as you slide your phone into your pocket, you take hold of his hand and lead him out to the parking lot where his car is parked. “Do you want to drive, or shall I?”

“You, please.” You know he’s not the most confident of flyers, so you understand his need to chill for a while before he’s at full Gillespie – a term you coined not long after the two of you met and he was his usual ‘constant overdrive’ self. He was always moving, doing something with his hands, or exploring. Charlie Gillespie didn’t do bored or sitting still very well.

Once you’re back at the apartment you share Charlie sets about unpacking his case, dumping his clothes in the washer straight away. It always strikes you how domestic he is. You’re not the best at remembering to do stuff, but he always manages to catch what you miss.

“Have you got to go to work?” he asks you as he leans up against the counter while you prepare some food for the two of you. You work at a TV studio, but the show you work on is on a break so your hours are more flexible than they would be normally.

“No, I’m all yours for a couple of days.” Your words make him grin before he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in for a kiss.

Your kiss had led to more of an intimate reunion which led you both to your bedroom for most of the day. By the time you emerged, it was almost dark outside and the food you’d been preparing needed to be tossed in the trash. You couldn’t complain though because you’d been able to show Charlie just how much you’d missed him.

___________________________

After the insanity that was Charlie’s delivery from and subsequent live with Madison’s dad, you now had a billboard poster partially unfolded in your bedroom. Naturally, because he was often a child in an adult’s body, Charlie had been like a kid at Christmas when he’d been allowed to open the box. Off camera, he’d been able to slide the parcel that had been included with your name on – Mr. Reyes had so kindly included a hoodie for you which you were now wearing while you stared at the space around you in horror.

“Charlie, babe. Did you have to open it in here? You heard what he said, it took up their entire back yard. Our bedroom is like a shoebox.”

“Yeah, I kinda got carried away. Sorry.” Leaning over, so he wouldn’t rip the poster, he planted a kiss on your lips.

“Well, don’t expect me to help you fold it back up.” With a grin, you turned on your heel and flounced out of the room to post screenshots from the live to your fan account. Only Charlie knew about it and had followed you early on. Eventually, after hearing him swearing and falling over, you went in and helped him fold the damn thing up. It took a ridiculous amount of time, but it was soon back in the box ready to be transported to Canada in Charlie’s car when the both of you went back for Christmas.

Exhausted, you flopped onto the couch and decided to order in some food rather than cook. But first, you took a sweaty selfie and sent it to Madison.

I love your dad, but please don’t let him send us anymore billboard posters. It took two hours to get it back in the damn box.

Her reply was instant.

Dad never expected him to unfold the thing. Love to you both. She wasn’t wrong. Only the man you adored would have ever done that, and live on the internet too. Shaking your head, you ordered pizza.

“Babe, I need a favor.” Charlie spoke as he tidied up the pizza boxes and soda cans from your dinner, making you groan. You were still exhausted, and now a little bloated. All you wanted to do was to slouch and watch a movie, curled up in Charlie’s arms.

“What?”

“Help me set up my phone in the bathroom.” That got your attention.

“Er… why?”

He scratched at the back of his head, a sheepish look on his beautiful face that was covered in the stubble you adored.

“I want to do a couple of videos.”

“And you have to do it now? Haven’t you done enough today?” you close your eyes as you lean your head on the back of the couch. You sense Charlie standing behind you, and when you open your eyes again, he’s looking down at you, the puppy dog eyes in force. Even upside down, he knows what they do to you. “I hate you, did you know that?” you tell him affectionately. With a grin, he bends over and captures your lips in a searing kiss.

“I promise, I’ll make it up to you.” With a chuckle, he runs his jaw along yours, knowing the roughness of his stubble is a huge turn on for you.

“Yes, yes you will.” You pull away and stand up. The sooner you get this done, the sooner the two of you can snuggle, and the sooner you can claim your owed favor.

Grabbing the car keys from the sideboard, you head down to the car to get the phone holder. You figure the suction cup works on the car’s windscreen, so should work on the glass screen. When you get back into the apartment, Charlie’s changed clothes and has his guitar in his hand.

“Remind me why you can’t do this from the couch?” you ask, walking into the bathroom. It’s tiny and you know Charlie’s going to regret his decision, but when he mumbles about acoustics you keep your mouth shut. Trying to change his mind when it’s made up is nigh on impossible.

You manage to secure the phone holder to the shower screen you’d cleaned that morning, pull it across the tub, and leave the small space.

“All ready for you, maestro.” You call out as you enter the lounge. Charlie stands up, kisses you and disappears into the bathroom. You fully plan on putting the TV on, choosing a random Hallmark Christmas movie to watch, and wait for him to finish, but when you hear his clear voice singing what he knows is one of your favorite Ed Sheeran songs, you can help but go and stand at the end of the tub and watch him morph from Charlie your doofus boyfriend to Charlie the star.

You watch him, with a smile on your face, as he records a video for his Instagram reel, messing it up a couple of times and having to restart a few times, making you laugh.

“If you can’t be quiet, you’re gonna have to leave.” He scolds you without any anger in his voice.

“I’ll behave. For now.” You wink at him as he starts to record again. Once he’s done, he says he wants to do one more, slightly longer for his Tiktok account.

“Last try, because my leg’s falling asleep.” He speaks into the camera once it’s recording.

I’m in love now

Kiss me like you wanna be loved

Wanna be loved, wanna be loved,

Wanna be loved, yeah

As he sings, he looks up, catching your eye and smiling. In that moment, you fall in love with him all over again.

Taglist: - if you want to be added, please send me an ask, just in case I happen to miss any comments

@dream-a-little-bigger-x @calamitykaty @crybabyddl @xplrreylo @morganayennefertyrell @lovesanimals @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve @echocharm17618 @kinda-really-lost @n0wornever @all-in-fangirl @5sosmukefan

#Charlie Gillespie #Charlie Gillespie fic #Charlie gillespie x reader #charlie x reader #Mich writes fic

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honeymoonjin · 3 years

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pairing: jimin x yoongi || genre: smut - nsfw 18+ word count: 6.7k warnings: dom!jimin, sub!yoongi, exhibitionism, BDSM, sub!jk feature very briefly, masochism, pain play, impact play, spanking, orgasm control/denial, untouched orgasm, frotting (i hope that’s right, i had to google it), crying during sex but in a fun liberating way u feel me, praise, mean-mugging, pet names

summary: jimin is used to keeping his professional bdsm life and his domestic married life separate, but when his husband yoongi comes in after a hard day at work, he wants to blur those lines.

A/N: i wrote this for the lovely and talented @joonsbean so thank her for inspiring me to actually write something, also this is unedited bc i just sat down for 6 hours to write this and i am not willing to stare at it a moment longer

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After a particularly resonant flick of the whip, Jimin eyes the way Jungkook's calves tense, left foot tapping the floor in an uneven stutter. He's starting to really feel it now.

He absentmindedly reaches his hand out to smooth the reddened flesh of Jungkook's ass, gently cooing at him quiet enough that his rapt audience won't hear. While the eager submissive was the biggest masochist of the regulars, and he was likely miles away from safewording, as a friend Jimin knew the long-haired boy had three hours of lectures the next day. He'd probably relish the sore ass and take it like a champ, but Jimin was soft on him, so he knew it was time to wrap it up.

Tilting his chin towards the dark, almost purplish streak just above Jungkook's thigh, he raises his voice to address the onlookers. "As you can see, when there's only one fall, like with a whip or a switch, the impact feels a lot sharper and concentrated. The thinner it is, that effect is only amplified. For that reason, I really recommend against switches and whips as a first-timer or if you're testing it out." Jimin can't help but beam at the way every person in the crowd listens to his spiel with clear enthusiasm. He got off on this kind of spotlight in a different way to the usual exhibitionism. Sharing his passion never failed to cheer him up. "Even though floggers can look more intense, as we saw when we were starting out, the impact is more distributed, more of a thud than a sting. Now," he breaks off, giving Jungkook's tender ass a final playful swat, making the boy jump, knuckles white as they clench the back of the chair he's bent over, "let's give our little prince a big round of applause for being so helpful for us today."

Jungkook positively keens at the cheers and wolf whistles that erupt from the crowd of at least thirty, his back arching and face buried between his meaty upper arms to hide the blush. Jimin gently massages the heated skin one last time, whispering instructions to head off to the side where his usual dom, Namjoon, was no doubt waiting.

The two had been playing for almost a year now, but Namjoon was still hesitant to venture into the heavier sadism that Jungkook sometimes needed, and the three of them had found a happy medium where Jungkook helped Jimin out with demonstrations, and Jimin indulged Jungkook's occasional desire for more intense pain play. As a thank you, Namjoon even helped Jimin out with his taxes just the month before, and Jimin quite often allowed them to reserve their favourite play rooms out of courtesy. A mutually beneficial arrangement, and it certainly came in handy to have Namjoon deal with aftercare while Jimin still had his demonstration to wind up.

Swinging the chair that Jungkook was previously bent over, Jimin takes a seat facing the audience and quirks a brow. "Alrighty, before we wrap up and I set you back into the wild, any questions?"

This line always had very different responses. Once, on a basic self-bondage informational session, there were so many single kinksters interested that there ended up being almost an hour of questioning, followed by an impromptu tutorial of safe handcuff use. More commonly, Jimin fielded a few confirming questions about what he'd shown, or something related but not overly relevant to the main topic at hand. More often than not, though, he'd find a string of people awkwardly hovering around him after the crowd had dissipated, too nervous to ask their question in front of the others.

This time, however, a single hand is thrust into the air, coming from the rough back third of the gathering.

"Yes?" Jimin calls out, squinting past the few stage lights and into the darkened crowd. He can't quite make out the face, but as soon as the rumbly voice begins to speak, he doesn't need the visual to recognise it.

"I was just wondering," his husband calls out, "could I speak to you in private?"

Jimin is so startled to hear Yoongi that for a moment he freezes on stage, totally silent. Never once had his husband of four years step a single foot into the dungeon Jimin worked at. Not intolerant of the kink world, Yoongi was simply paranoid about being recognised - a renowned human rights lawyer showing up to a BDSM dungeon dressed in leathers was a tabloid field day waiting to happen - and was happy for Jimin to continue working there whenever he wished.

Now, though, that unspoken rule that had kept these two worlds of Jimin's separate had shattered with a single question, and he felt cold shock drip down his spine.

"Uh," he begins eloquently, blinking himself out of it and plastering a collected smile on again, "of course! I'll be right with you once the show ends."

Jimin closes the session in a daze, answering a few questions about physical aftercare and the best materials and brands for impact play equipment on autopilot. It feels like an eternity passing in a single second, and before he's even processed it, the audience have moved on, and his husband is placing a gentle kiss of greeting on his temple, the same way he would when he'd get home from work in the evenings.

Mere minutes after he'd been in his usual dominant persona, Jimin feels himself melting like candy floss in Yoongi's arms, wrapping around him in their usual casual intimacy. "How are you here?" Jimin asks softly, snaking his arms under Yoongi's slate grey suit jacket, feeling the warmth radiate from his body, even through the expensive cotton shirt. "You're still dressed for work, baby."

Yoongi tenses slightly, gazing around the room. A few people are still milling around in small groups, chatting, but this close to the stage, him and Jimin are out of earshot. Still, he speaks lowly, dipping into the Daegu drawl that only makes an appearance when he's too stressed to think clearly. "I took a sick day. Or, I suppose, sick afternoon," he corrects, brows pinched together. "Had to get out. Can we- Is there a place we can have some privacy, please?"

Wide-eyed, Jimin jumps up out of Yoongi's embrace. "Oh, definitely, sorry!" He tamps down his rising concern by hooking his arm around Yoongi's, locking their fingers tightly as he leads his husband out of the auditorium and down a hall.

Being a matinee opening, the dungeon isn't too packed. Jimin prefers working the day shifts, likes that everything feels a little more personal and open. Nights, especially themed ones, get so busy that the gear and rooms have to be booked sometimes weeks in advance. Jimin does his fair share of DMing (they need all the help they can get) but doesn't like to run any scenes himself in the relative chaos.

But at 2pm on a Tuesday, it's easy enough to slip into one of the private rooms, switching the sign to occupied. There's no lock on the door for safety purposes, but nobody will dare enter while it's taken.

Yoongi steps in, eying the room with surprise. It's a relatively open space, with the walls lined with bookcases on one end, and a large wooden desk with some filing cabinets on the other. The desk itself has a comfortable-looking desk chair, and the opposite side has a single leather armchair like something from a therapist's office.

Although there is a wide window, it's covered with blinds, and Jimin knows from experience that it opens directly onto a brick wall for privacy. Instead, the room is lit from above with ceiling lights that are adjustable by a dimmer. Jimin leaves it bright.

Yoongi slowly makes his way to the black leather armchair, sitting down on it and leaning forward to inspect the desk. Absurdly large, it is mostly uncovered except for a diary with some unreadable scrawls on it, an ancient laptop that doesn't turn on, and a ruler. "Is this your office?" Yoongi asks incredulously.

Jimin cackles before he can help himself, moving forward to perch on the edge of the desk in front of Yoongi. "Does it look like I'd get anything done here? It's a play room, baby."

"Play room?" his husband replies dully, but Jimin doesn't miss the way his eyes are zoned in on Jimin's body, the intimidating leather jacket fixed with a tightly buckled belt around his waist, the skintight black jeans that barely contained his thighs, and perfectly glossed black dress shoes, his calling card amongst the typical stomping boots or knife-thin stilettos that most other doms wore. He always got dressed at the dungeon, leaving the house in unassuming sweatpants and a hoodie, so he gets no little satisfaction in relishing his husband's first reaction to the getup.

"That's right," he confirms with a smirk, crossing his legs. "We have five of them at the moment, though the sixth one is almost ready for use. This one is for your typical CEO or professor roleplays, we have a medical one, an interrogation one," Jimin rattles them off on his fingers, watching the way Yoongi's eyes bug out at each addition, "just a basic bedroom one for the vanilla stuff, one that actually looks like a dungeon, and the new one is gonna be an outdoor one."

"Outdoor?" Yoongi asks with a unsteady voice, before shaking his head to clear the thoughts. "Anyway, here is fine, I just- I had to get away from work, Minnie, and I... I was thinking..."

Jimin frowns in sympathy, leaning forward to stroke the back of Yoongi's hand. "I can leave early, I don't have anything else booked today, I was mostly planning on sticking to the social lounge-"

"I don't wanna go home," Yoongi slips in hurriedly, flipping his hand on the arm of the chair to link their fingers together tightly, though his eyes don't leave Jimin's for a second. "I know that you like to keep this job and our own love life separate, and I'm not going to force you, but- I came here because I want to submit to you."

Jimin's eyes widen, his breath catching in his chest. A switch at heart, Jimin had always found it a nice balance to indulge his dominant side here at work, and return home for Yoongi to take care of him, and it had always worked well. Even before they were serious, right in the early days of fucking like rabbits and pretending they weren't entirely smitten, Yoongi had always easily taken that more dominant role, though most of their sex to this day was far less kinky than the kind of demonstrations Jimin ran here. What Yoongi was asking wasn't just to be pampered and taken care of, but to be taken control of. And Jimin couldn't deny the ball of heat that was quickly building inside of him at that thought.

"Baby," he sighs, forcing himself to keep professionalism in mind, "I can't- We can't do anything here without you filling out some paperwork. The list of kinks and limits at the least. Not just as an employee, but as your husband, I gotta keep you safe."

"I know," Yoongi insists, and he frees his hand from Jimin's grip just long enough to plunge a hand into his pants pocket, pulling out a tightly folded piece of paper, handing it to Jimin.

Oddly enough, the folds are worn, not crisp, and as Jimin unfolds it, the text - printed in 12 point Times New Roman, because of course Yoongi would type it up with perfect formatting - has lost the freshly-printed gloss.

"I've been working up the courage to come here for months, Jimin-ah," Yoongi explains in a shy but determined voice. "I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to feel pressured at all either way, but please know that this is something that I've researched, and that I'm serious about." His solemn expression turns slightly cheeky, almost impish. "You literally make a living domming people, Minnie. I've been fantasising about it long before I even realised I wanted it."

A thrill of arousal runs through Jimin, straight between his legs, and he tightens his thighs, taking a settling breath. "Oh, baby," he coos, eyes dropping to read Yoongi's well-documented and organised list of kinks and limits, scanning over some surprising - and not-so-surprising - tidbits, "I'm gonna take such good care of you."

The air rushes out of Yoongi's lungs as he unconsciously scoots forward in the chair, leaning in. "Do we- Do we just start now, or do you need to go get some-" he breaks off, blushing violently, "some equipment?"

Jimin breaks into a broad smile, eyes crinkling as he steps forward, steps close, ringed fingers slipping into Yoongi's hair on either side, tipping his husband's face up as his chin rests on Jimin's lower abdomen. "Oh, my big boy wants to play with some toys, huh?" Jimin can feel when Yoongi swallows hard, his eyes not glossy with subspace, instead keen and sharp with pointed desire. "Don't worry, baby, this room isn't as empty as you think."

When he steps away, dropping all contact, Yoongi slumps like a puppet with cut strings, catching himself before he slips off the chair, instead lying back against it, chest heaving beneath the starch white of his dress shirt.

Jimin makes his way first to the bookshelves, looking back over his shoulder to catch Yoongi's reaction as he finds a notch in the framing and pulls, revealing that they aren't real shelves at all, simply disguised cabinets that swing open to reveal the hidden delights inside. The three closest to the desk are filled with clothes of all sizes, office-wear spanning pencil skirts to neckties to blazers, a few frumpy pieces that remind Jimin of dorky professors, even some school uniforms, cut far shorter than regulation.

With a grin, Jimin pulls at a pleated plaid skirt, smirking at Yoongi. "In the mood for dress-up, baby? Show off those pretty legs of yours."

Yoongi, still with some wits about him, narrows his eyes with a mock scowl, his disapproval clear.

Jimin sighs out wistfully, but lets it go. "Another time, maybe." Ignoring Yoongi's light scoff, he nudges the doors shut with his foot one at a time and moves to the last one, where the facade of stacked books hides a series of hooks nailed into the back wall.

Jimin doesn't need to even face Yoongi to know he's squirming in his chair - the squeaking leather gives it away. Strung up are floggers, whips, switches, and neatly coiled bundles of rope, catalogued by length. His husband had expressed interest in both impact play and bondage, several different types of both, and so it's no surprise that the sight of those fantasies had Yoongi breathing heavily. He leaves that cupboard open.

"There are so many things we could play with in here, baby," Jimin assures, patting the folded piece of paper that he'd slipped into his own pocket, "and your list was pretty extensive, so before we get started, any particular preference?"

Yoongi swallows again, hair slightly rucked up from Jimin's hands. Jimin can't wait to see it totally mussed up, see his husband in ruins, see him love it. With wary eyes on Jimin as he moves behind the desk towards the filing cabinets, Yoongi nods. "The- what you were doing with that guy on stage. I- I want that."

Jimin blinks, turning his back to his husband to mask his surprise, fingers hooking the edge of the top drawer of one of the cabinets, each one labelled alphabetically. "Is that so? We did a lot on that stage, baby, I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific."

Yoongi is silent for a moment, his breathing the only sound as Jimin carefully slides the drawer open, revealing neatly sectioned rows of anal plugs. He grins. A for Anal, B for Bondage, C for Chastity. The designers really took their job seriously, and he could appreciate the humour in it.

He lets Yoongi take his time, knowing that saying something is often the hardest part. Instead, he notes the location of the drawer marked P, and turns back to his husband.

Looking incredibly small, tucked up on the intentionally oversized armchair, Yoongi clears his throat, making shy eye contact. "The paddles," he says in a high tone, like he's unsure he's even using the correct word, "I want you to- to hit me with them like you did him."

"You want me to spank that pretty little ass of yours?" Jimin confirms, loving the way his husband goes bright pink.

"Y-yeah," he replies breathily, dropping his gaze. "Will you?"

Despite the raging fire inside him, Jimin's heart leaps fondly, so in love with his husband and all his endearing mannerisms. "Of course, baby. But let's start slow, hm? Gotta make your first time special, don't we?"

Yoongi laughs, then, full of air and barely audible, his lips lilting in a small smile that still shows his teeth.

Jimin tilts his head to the side. "What?"

With a tiny head shake, Yoongi contains his grin. "I just really wanna kiss you right now."

Jimin is moving before he's even finished speaking, his hip barely missing the corner of the desk in his haste to join his husband, knees straddling his lap without hesitation, holding those soft cheeks in both hands as he presses his lips firmly against Yoongi's, eyes fluttering shut.

Their parting kiss before Yoongi left for work this morning feels too long ago, and for a moment their new arrangement is forgotten as they fall into their usual motions, years of marriage making every inch of Yoongi's lips feel familiar, the bump of their noses and brush of eyelashes like home even in such a different environment.

With no rush, Jimin lets himself indulge in it, burying one hand in Yoongi's hair, carding through the choppy black locks that are no longer gelled back. His other hand slides down Yoongi's jaw, neck, and chest, tugging at the knot of his tie to loosen it. He makes no effort to be gentle, and his husband just groans into Jimin's mouth at the rough treatment.

It's all too easy to shift into his dom space, a practiced scale of gradually increasing intensity. It begins with the tie, but soon enough Jimin punctuates their ongoing kiss with hard sucks and quick nips of teeth, Yoongi tipping his chin up to drown in it more. Testing the waters, Jimin rocks his hips once against Yoongi's taut crotch and yanks once on a fistful of hair, baring the pale expanse of Yoongi's neck.

The debauched lawyer bucks beneath him, hands flying to grip tightly at Jimin's waist. His long, beautiful fingers and wide palm have always made Jimin feel weak at the knees, and feeling them grasp at him not in command but in desperation feels addictive.

"You like that?" he breathes, voice low enough to almost growl, and Yoongi shivers as he nods his affirmation. "Good," Jimin praises, and dives down, teeth grazing down the sensitive skin of Yoongi's throat, skimming until he feels the throb of his pulse point. Yoongi can't risk marks at work, certainly not in court, but it's a Friday, and Jimin is feeling more possessive than usual. He nips lightly but laps at the skin thoroughly, knowing the best he can get away with is a reddened bite mark which would fade over the weekend. The hickies were best saved for other areas, he knew.

Yoongi is panting like a horse now, air punched through his nostrils as he bites down hard on his own swollen lip. Jimin knows the effect he has on his subs, and grins against the glistening wet skin of Yoongi's neck at the hardness that has grown between his legs. "Wuh-want more, Minnie," he gasps out, "need more."

Jimin hums, making sure Yoongi can feel the vibrations in the hollow of his throat, sliding up to press kisses to that hyper-sensitive place just behind Yoongi's ear that always made him tremble.

It doesn't disappoint, Yoongi letting out a shaky breath as his arms wrap around Jimin's waist, trying to bring him closer.

Jimin doesn't let him, though, pulling back to sit on his haunches, running a thumb down Yoongi's reddened lower lip to watch the way it springs back into place. Yoongi sits still, eyes cloudy as he lets his dom for the night play with him. The thought pleases Jimin; that Yoongi truly was wanting this, truly was willing to give up control to him.

He spares a glance down between his own thighs, where the cool grey of Yoongi's slacks makes no attempt at hiding his bulging erection. Pouting in sympathy, Jimin reaches out with a single finger to trace the outline, watching the muscles in his husband's thighs tense as he fights to stay still. "So hard already, baby," Jimin drawls, "do you think that pretty little cock of yours can wait its turn while I spank you, hm? Can it be patient for me?"

Yoongi flushes, whining Jimin's name under his breath. "Yes," he admits, huffing out a reluctant sigh.

"Yes what?"

Yoongi grimaces at Jimin, but the dom just raises an expectant brow. "Yes, my- my pretty little cock can be patient for you," Yoongi murmurs in the quietest voice he can manage, cheeks red hot.

"That's my boy," Jimin beams, rewarding his husband by popping the button and pulling down the zip on the fly of Yoongi's slacks, releasing some of the pressure. Yoongi groans, deep in his throat, but his relief is quickly thwarted once Jimin stands up off him.

Making his way back to the filing cabinets, Jimin quickly slides open the one labeled P. Splayed out neatly lie five different paddles. Three are plastic, one a basic rounded shape, another that same shape only with several small holes drilled through for a sharper impact, and a final one a rectangular shape. The next one is hard wood, heavy, Jimin recalls, and the one tucked at the back is a softly upholstered pleather one for beginners. Then there's the ruler, of course, though that's a little cheesy for the current mood.

He assesses the five inside at his leisure, knowing every moment of anticipation will feel like an eternity to his husband, and finally makes a choice. He slides the cabinet drawer closed.

Yoongi makes a wounded, cut-off noise in his throat, but Jimin sends him a firm gaze.

"I'll give you what you want, baby," Jimin assures, wetting his lips, "but first I want to feel you myself. Pants and underwear off, jacket off, I want you bent over my desk."

Yoongi sucks in a sudden breath, but stands up on wobbly legs and slips off his blazer. It's probably too expensive to be dumping it on the chair behind him, but Yoongi clearly isn't worried about that as he kicks off his shoes and pants too, only hesitating once his fingers are hooked on the elastic waistband of his underwear.

"Off," Jimin demands harshly, "I won't ask again."

This time Yoongi obeys without delay, and Jimin takes great pleasure in watching the way his husband's cock leaps up once it's freed, pretty and pink and wetter than he'd ever seen it before. Though Yoongi always tended to top, his cock was smaller - more slender, at least - than Jimin's, but he loved it, loved that a hasty three fingers was enough prep on those times that they just couldn't wait to devour each other.

Now, though, with mussed hair and wrinkled shirt, naked from the waist down bar a pair of black ankle socks, Jimin's husband looked positively adorable in the most erotic way, and Jimin wanted nothing more than to make him wait, make him work to cum.

When Yoongi folds himself over the desk, side-on to Jimin to make use of the length of the surface, his hands awkwardly hover on either side of him, keeping himself slightly upright still. The back of his shirt is just long enough to cover the tops of his cheeks, and the sight of his rounded ass and dripping cock peeking through is enough to make Jimin actively restrain himself, taking a moment to breathe and appreciate this opportunity.

He steps forward, planting a hand between Yoongi's shoulder blades and presses, slow enough that Yoongi has time to move his face to the side to avoid banging his chin, but firm enough that there's no resisting. Yoongi goes willingly, however, his back arching as the table is just lower than his hips. Like this, no fabric obstructs Jimin's view, and he hums, pleased. "Good boy."

Yoongi trembles, his legs tight together and knees shaking just slightly. He's nervous at the vulnerable position, but no less aroused for it.

With the tip of his shoe, Jimin guides Yoongi's legs apart, until his socked feet are wider than his hips, until he needs to lean his weight onto the desktop to keep stable.

"That's it," Jimin praises, "my perfect little slut. So obedient."

Yoongi's right knee buckles at the exact moment that he hears the pet name, and Jimin grins. The piece of paper in his pocket had a long list of suggestions for names he was okay being called, and the dom couldn't resist picking out his favourite. The perfect mix of praise and degradation, it flowed so well on his tongue; the smooth, melodic sounds punctuated by the sharp hit of the t. Slut. Jimin muffles a groan, pressing on his own straining erection.

Unable to help himself, he reaches out, both hands grabbing at the plush ass cheeks in front of him, spreading them to watch the way Yoongi clenches at the sudden exposure. This must be what he looks like when they play together, Jimin thinks. He wonders if Yoongi is enjoying the change in pace just as much as he is.

"I'm going to start you off with just my hands, baby," he introduces, running a palm under the hem of his shirt and up Yoongi's spine to watch the way he shivers. "I'm sure you're well aware of the traffic light system, hm? Tell me what the colours mean."

Yoongi shifts, fingers curling uselessly against the tabletop as his eyes remain squeezed shut. "Red means stop, yellow means slow down, green means go," he recites, the exact phrasing off the dungeon's website, and Jimin bends down to press a single soft kiss on the top of Yoongi's ass as a reward, making him twitch violently. "Fuck, Jimin-ah," he sighs, arching his back even more.

Jimin grins. "Good. I'm adding another colour, just for you," he explains. "Gold. Can you guess what gold means?"

Yoongi swallows, shifts his weight, and shakes his head.

Jimin digs his fingers into the flesh of Yoongi's ass, watching them pillow in roughly. "Gold means more. Gold means harder. Okay?"

Yoongi nods quickly, hair even more tangled with every movement.

"Good boy," Jimin croons, and without further comment his left hand rises and comes down in a single strike.

Yoongi seizes up for a second at the shock of it, but there's no power behind the hit, and his brain realises a moment later that no pain follows the loud noise. He huffs in need and pushes his hips back, silently asking for more. "Gold, g-gold," he mutters offbeat, already panting.

Jimin hums in pleasure, and swats his right cheek this time, feeling a sting bloom across his palm. Still not nearly the hardest he can go, it's clearly not enough for Yoongi, as he remains stoic, waiting for more.

The next time, Jimin lets his hand really catch the air on the way down, but he doesn't stop at one hit, raining down three in quick succession on the same spot. Yoongi breathes through the first impact, freezes in surprise at the second one, and an unbidden moan falls out of his mouth at the third.

"Mm, that's better, isn't it?" Jimin muses rhetorically, soothing the slightly pinked patch of skin with his warmed hand. "Just need a bit more pain to let go."

"Please," Yoongi breathes, "jus' keep going."

"Bossy," Jimin teases, "I'm meant to be giving you orders, baby. If you don't quit it, I might not give you what you want at all."

"Sorry, I'm sorry, ple-please hit me again," Yoongi begs mindlessly, and Jimin can't help but indulge him, his husband sounding so pretty when he whines.

When he returns to spanking again, it's in earnest. Instead of pausing to check in each time, he relies on his husband's telling cues to moderate it, as well as the sweet pleas of gold, gold every time Jimin spent too long between swats.

Much like the rest of him, Yoongi's ass blooms candied pink, and with every strike, Jimin can't help but venture further, wanting to colour him in all over. The spanks that fall on Yoongi's upper thighs make him restless, squirming and moaning wordlessly. The ones that land on the fatty portion of his ass have him sighing happily, crooked smile slicked in drool against the wood of the desk.

The two of them slip into an unspoken rhythm for a while, alternating these hits on either side, of varying number and intensity, until Yoongi has almost fallen into a trance of sorts, mouth hanging open slackly as a whine or moan or whimper is falling out of his mouth with every single thwack.

Jimin's arm begins to tire, and just as he pauses to shake out the joints, Yoongi pants a, "wait, wait," making him pause.

It takes a moment for Yoongi to catch his breath, but Jimin waits patiently, scanning his ass and thighs for any sign of something that could be causing undue comfort, but he comes up short. With a weak, slurred voice, Yoongi lets out a sob. "I wanna use the paddle, Minnie, I wanna feel it," he pleads, "I've h-had enough of the spanking."

Jimin furrows his brows in concern, massaging out the sore tissue as Yoongi goes lax beneath him. "If you've had enough, baby, we should stop. I don't wanna push you."

Yoongi actually tears up, biting hard on his lip as he shakes his head. "Please, Minnie, just a few times, I just need it to be- to be heavy. I don't know, but I need it. Gold, please gold."

"Okay," Jimin is agreeing softly, squatting down to press reassuring kisses against the hot flesh, feeling his own palm stinging. He leaves only to slide open the drawer of paddles, selecting the wooden one. He knew from subspace himself that sometimes those base, thoughtless needs stemmed from something deeper, from an emotional need tangled up daily life. Once, in the early days of doing demonstrations at the dungeon, Jimin had gotten stage fright and done such a poor job of a fingering tutorial that the sweet sub he was working on didn't even cum. He'd come home to Yoongi bawling in humiliation, and his husband had lain him down on their bed and made him cum so many times that he couldn't even think, couldn't move a single limb. Now, Jimin had no doubt that the need to feel a heavy impact had something to do with the reason Yoongi had taken an uncharacteristic sick day.

Talking about it wouldn't help, would only break the escapism of the scene, so Jimin just runs the face of the wooden paddle over Yoongi's sore ass, letting him grow accustomed to the feel and texture. "Just two hits," Jimin declares, "one on each cheek. No more. Focus on them, baby. Eyes closed, just feel them."

He waits until Yoongi settles, spreading his legs wider with wiggling toes, and catching his breath, one hand pressed over his teary eyes.

Jimin swings the paddle backwards, not up, and lets it impact on Yoongi's left cheek first, a wet, strangled moan leaving his husband's mouth at the thuddy feel. The wooden paddle didn't hurt like spanking or a lighter paddle. It was about the weighty feel of it hitting your skin, a light hit so as not to cause bruising.

A line of tension disappears between Yoongi's clothed shoulders, the sweaty fabric clinging to his back. He's calmed down, fully, waiting patiently for the second strike. The second Jimin rains that final hit, he drops the paddle onto the carpeted floor, exhausted himself, and moves around to the side of the desk, bending awkwardly over it to press his mouth to Yoongi's, who makes a muffled sound of surprise before responding in turn.

Jimin's hand is curled around the nape of his husband's neck, keeping him close as tears mingle with spit, their kiss salty and desperate.

He feels a vibration between them before he hears anything, has to focus hard to hear Yoongi as he chants over and over like a prayer, thanking Jimin.

He slows the kiss after a sweet eternity, letting their heartbeats return to normal. Jimin's own eyes sting, love and concern a potent combination, but as the adrenaline settles back to normal, Yoongi calms down too, and seems to come back to himself.

He pulls away to let out a tired breath, laughing voicelessly. "Fuck," Yoongi curses with eyes still closed in bliss. "I get it now."

Jimin beams, a chuckle leaving his own lips as he sees the peace on his husband's face. After a moment, though, a frown appears as Yoongi furrows his brows. "What is it?"

"My dick hurts," Yoongi whines, managing to get his elbows under him to lift his chest from the table, head in his hands.

Jimin startles, standing bolt upright as he rushes down to look for any injury. "Oh shit, did I hit it?"

The laugh returns, bubbling out of Yoongi as he turns himself with great effort onto his back, chest still rising and falling dramatically. "No, Jimin-ah, don't worry," he assures, wincing when his ass-cheeks meet the unforgiving surface of the desk. "But if I don't cum soon, I think it's gonna explode."

Jimin's mouth falls open, relief and disbelief flooding his veins equally as he's faced with Yoongi's cock, so flushed with blood it's almost purple in places. "I- Okay, do you- do you want me to get you off, or do you want to keep playing?"

Yoongi looks at him like he's insane. "I mean... Preferably both, Minnie."

After the moment of scare, it takes surprisingly little time before that thrum of arousal is dialed up again, and Jimin smirks, running his hands up and down Yoongi's inner thighs to watch the way he naturally and obediently parts them for him.

"Do you know what I realised, baby?" Jimin coos, stubbornly avoiding the weeping cock in front of him. Yoongi mutters a weak response. "I realised that so far I've been doing all the work so far, haven't I? That isn't really fair, wouldn't you agree?"

Wary, Yoongi pauses and nods, the blur of tears long since replaced by the haze of arousal, of subspace beginning to creep in once more.

"I'm glad we're on the same page," Jimin drawls, flattening a hand heavy on the soft flesh just above Yoongi's cock, making the man moan and wriggle to escape the pressure. "So I think, if you want to get off, you should put a little work in yourself. Make some effort, baby."

Yoongi takes a few heaving breaths, before slowly, so carefully, lowering his hand down to wrap around the base of his cock, immediately groaning at the touch. He's leaked so much precum that it takes a single shaky stroke to coat the sensitive skin, and a relieved smile spreads over his face at the thought that he's finally going to get off.

But where's the fun in that?

"Don't you think you're being a little selfish?" Jimin spits stiffly, and flicks once at the very tip of Yoongi's dick.

His husband practically howls, curling up with a depraved cry. "Wha-at?" he sobs, hand trembling as it hovers on his thigh, fighting his desire. "What do you want, Minnie?"

"How sweet of you to ask," Jimin praises in a sugar-sweet voice, reaching down to unzip his own jeans. "Those hands are big enough to fit the both of us, aren't they?"

Blearily, Yoongi looks down as Jimin slips his aching cock out from his pants, fitting himself between Yoongi's spread legs so that their bobbing lengths bump together.

Even that contact is enough to make Yoongi hiss, but he's desperate and so he nods quickly, fingers trembling as they grab Jimin's cock, pinning them together in his grip. He pauses, panting as he stares up at Jimin for permission.

Jimin smiles placidly, bending forward to press a single chaste kiss to his husband's lips. "I don't want you cumming before I do, okay?" he asks sweetly, though the threat is thinly veiled.

Using the strength of his abdomen to lift his upper half off the desk, Yoongi stabilises himself with an elbow while his other hand jerks the two of them off together, thumb running over the sensitive heads, paying extra attention to Jimin's.

"That's it," Jimin groans, biting hard on his tongue. Truth be told, it was hard enough for him to hold back, feeling threads of an orgasm already knitting together in his stomach. But he's not willing to let go of the pretty sight of Yoongi just yet, so debauched and far gone as he shivers with every stroke, torn between making Jimin cum and preventing his own climax.

After mere minutes, Yoongi has collapsed back onto the desk, ankles curled around Jimin's back to hold him close, hand shaking violently.

"Please," he begs occasionally, but the moment his hand slows down to give himself a break, Jimin pinches his inner thigh in warning. They both knew marks there were allowed.

It's not until Yoongi is quite literally biting down on his own knuckles to hold back an orgasm that Jimin can't keep himself from cumming anymore.

Greedily, he runs his hands over Yoongi's sides, skimming the shirt up to put his chest on display, flicking at the delicate pink nipples. Jimin cums so hard he almost buckles forward onto Yoongi, spurting white all over Yoongi's hand and cock.

He holds himself up shakily, spouting praises to Yoongi as the wave of pleasure rushes through him, making his toes tingle and his fingers curl, scratches down Yoongi's chest and stomach.

"Oh, god, I'm gonna- Mi-Minnie, can I cum, oh fuh-fuck, no!"

One last liberty taken in his time as Yoongi's dom, Jimin pulls himself away, pinning Yoongi's wrists to the table and watching as his cock, dripping white, bobs desperately in the air, seeking friction.

Yoongi babbles pleas and curses, hips jerking, but it only takes Jimin leaning down, blowing a single thin stream of cool air over Yoongi's cock for Yoongi's thighs to tense. He cums, untouched, shuddering and seizing on the table as Jimin takes mercy and wraps his hand around him to stroke him through it.

"Look at you," Jimin croons in wonder, watching cum spill between his fingers, the two of them mixed together indistinguishably. "Baby, you look perfect like this. Please tell me you want to do that again."

Yoongi makes a strangled, guttural noise as he goes limp on the table, legs dangling off the edge. "Fuck, not right away, you demon," he protests grumpily, "now come kiss me again."

With a fond beam, heart so full with love and post-orgasm endorphins that he can barely handle it, Jimin tugs him up by his forearms and joins their mouths together, Yoongi's one dry hand tangling in his hair as he smiles into the kiss.

It takes only a few moments, however, for the sticky reality to sink in, and soon enough Yoongi is parting, letting his forehead rest against Jimin's. "I don't suppose there are any wet wipes in here?" he ventures.

Jimin chuckles, leaning back. "Cleaning materials in the desk drawers," he divulges.

With crazy sex hair and wide eyes, Yoongi makes quite the picture. "Fuck, I love this place. Let's try the interrogation one next time, yeah?"

#bts smut #bts fic #jimin smut #yoongi smut #yoonmin #yoonmin smut #yoonmin fic #jimin fic #yoongi fic #dom jimin #sub yoongi

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anlian-aishang · 4 years

Note

If you're still taking requests would it be fine to have a oneshot? Maybe Levis a single dad and his 3 year old kid gets a nightmare of her dad never returning home from the last expedition, it breaks Levi's heart so of course, he comforts his baby girl. I'm a softie and I love scenarios of Levi as a father or husband~

I am ALSO a softie! omg Dad-Levi is my religion 💘 I LIVE for domestic Levi. Would absolutely write this sort of stuff again because I love it. I hope you enjoy!

Word count: 1600 Tags: sfw, fluff, I use “daddy” here in the familial context, not in the kink way.

The light of my life.

“And then they lived happily ever after.”

“Again! Again!!” Eager palms slapped the storybook pages.

“No, no… You already got an encore, young lady.” Levi booped a careful finger on her nose.

“Ppppppppppwease!!” The pleading in her voice was near max volume.

Despite how loud she was, he knew she was definitely overtired. An early mistake of parenting: one has to put their foot down sometimes. Otherwise, they will be stuck reading fairy tales till sunrise. “Tomorrow, okay? Daddy will read more with you tomorrow.”

In her 3 years of age, she already knew better than to tell her daddy “no”. A conflicted whine, “Mmm… okay.”

Clear grumpiness in her voice, Levi found it both adorable and pitiful.

His little thing, getting so worked up over something so small while he himself had gone through so much worse... His own flesh and blood, seeing her sad of course made him sad as well… They tugged at his heartstrings in their own special ways.

“Nighty night.” Levi kissed her forehead. “Don’t let the titans bite.”

// // //

As always, Levi laid by her side until he knew she was fast asleep. With how he had been raised, he remembered all too well how frightening it was to wake up alone. His mother - a prostitute, his caretaker - an assassin, both of them laid with him each night. There was no reason he could not.

When he saw her body rise and fall and heard her tiny snores, he took his cue to leave. He carefully picked up his hand from her tummy and gradually snuck out of that bed. Hundreds of practices, he finally figured out the pattern for leaving without a stir. First, he dragged his legs over the side. Then, he pushed himself up into the seated position. One last check. With her still sound asleep, he swiftly stood from the bed.

After rearranging her blankets and placing a stuffed animal in his place, he tiptoed to her bedroom door. A glance back to his pride and joy always ended with a choked down cry and chuckle. No matter how many times he had gone through this ritual, something about leaving her always got to him.

He had to remind himself: it was not good-bye, only good night.

// // //

With her father a former scout, she had to remind herself too. In sleep, however, she had no control over where her mind wandered.

An unfortunately-timed nightmare...

Daddy had been called back for one last expedition. Outside of her room, she could pick up the wariness in his voice. At the front door, Uncle Erwin begged him, “We need every man we can get.” Her father’s face fell in reluctance, “Just one more, Levi.”

When the sun rose, he gave a polite knock on her bedroom door. “Who is it?”

On the other side, in the hallway, Levi was near-tears. He always swore to himself: he would never venture outside the walls again, he would never put himself in danger now that he had her, he would never leave his daughter the orphan that he once was. Levi swallowed down his sorrows, “It’s me, honey. Can daddy come in?”

He had to stay strong for her. Still, she was not at all deaf to his tone. She better let him in, something was serious, “Of course, daddy!!”

Levi nudged the door open gently. Dressed in his uniform, she was awestruck at how cool her dad was, “Wow!!” She brought her hands to her cheeks and gaped her mouth.

A weak smile. He had to make it back. He had to see her cuteness again. He knelt to her level, “Cutie-pie, I’ve gotta go to work today.”

An innocently confused expression, “But… I thought you were ‘re-tie-old’.”

Her mispronunciation, he could not help but grin, “Yeah, you’re right. Daddy is retired, but Uncle Erwin needs a favor.”

A stark frown that he quickly had to turn upside down, “But don’t worry, daddy will be back for storytime tonight.”

“Okayyyy...” She teased.

This was the hardest thing he ever had to do. Breaking his promise to his daughter, his heart was breaking as well. “Can I have a hug first?”

“Mmm… I guess!” She threw herself onto him.

He felt he had to cry, but he knew he had to be a strong father figure for her. He allowed himself a tight embrace for just a moment before springing up from his squat and into the air. With her tiny body in his hands, he stuck his arms out and spun her around until she giggled like crazy, causing him to do the same.

He teased, “Are you gonna be a good girl while I’m gone?”

“Yes! Yes!!” If she answered right, he would put her down.

“I can’t hear you!” He spun faster.

“YES!!” Dizzy and frantic laughter.

“Okay, okay. Down you go!” He lightly tossed her onto her bed, her giggling failing to cease, “Stay here until I get back okay?”

“Okay!”

“If you’re a good girl, I’ll come back sooner.”

“Okay! I will!”

A good girl she was, but he did not come back soon.

He did not come back at all.

// // //

After tucking her in, Levi always relied on his late-night cup of tea. Being a parent was absolutely exhausting, the most tiring trial he had ever gone through in his life, which was saying a lot for him. Still, there was no way he could simply go to sleep after such a long day. The insomniac he was, he always had to wind down first.

As he boiled the water for his tea, his daughter had unknowingly crawled out of bed in search of her long lost father. Tiny footsteps were drowned out by the screaming kettle.

The nightmare only compounded, only seemed more real, when she opened his bedroom door. A neatly-made bed, he was definitely not there. It was just as he would have left it in the morning. He’s not home? For the first time in her life, an unfamiliar feeling settled in her heart.

She pulled his door back shut. Panic.

// // //

Stumbling into the living area, she finally found her daddy. The whistle of the tea kettle and shadows of dim light were especially frightening tonight.

When he spotted her in footie pajamas, twiddling her thumbs, standing still in the hallway, he held in a chuckle. “Hey there, little brat.” Levi put his hands on his hips and teased, “What are you doing awake?”

At the sight of her father, safe after all, she ran towards him, tripping and whimpering along the way. She wrapped her arms around his shin, head resting against his knee, “Daddy’s home! Daddy’s home!” Words typically expressed in excitement were instead drenched in distress.

He stuttered, perplexed, “Y-Yeah… Daddy’s always been home.”

She shook her head against him, “Daddy - scary - dream…” Weak inhales interrupted her sentiment.

A nightmare? Fatherly instincts immediately kicked in. Levi squatted down, allowing her grip to stay on his leg while also meeting her level. He wrapped a strong and gentle arm around her back, easily fitting her head in his hand, “Don’t worry, little angel. Dad’s here.”

Tiny, hyperventilating lungs were largely breaking his huge heart. He had to take her to her soothing spot. Levi scooped his hands underneath her shoulders and lifted her into his arms. She instinctively nuzzled her face into his neck as he slowly paced towards the rocking chair.

When he started to sit down, she startled at the motion and held him as tightly as she could. “Don’t worry. Daddy’s got you.” Levi pet the back of her head as she continued crying into his shoulder.

When her sobs grew more frantic, he pulled his daughter from his chest and met her eyes with concern, “Can you tell Daddy what happened?”

She wiped her eyes with her chubby balled fists, “you - you… you left me alone,” she choked on her sobs, “all day!”

He knit his eyebrows, beckoning for more explanation. She continued, “And - And - you never came back from work!”

“Oh, honey…” Levi brought her back to his chest. “Daddy’s all done with work, remember?”

Her only response was a dubious whine. He comforted, “Daddy’s never going to leave you.”

“Never ever.”

More rocking. More holding.

Less crying. Less trembling.

As the night went on, his beloved daughter gradually felt at ease. Her father was a master of calm. Even after a long day of parenting, he would always have the energy for her.

Worn feet pressed against the stool, pushing them back and forth in the rocking chair. Bitten, burned, battered hands were gentle to the touch as they held her body up against his. As much as he wanted to cry at this sad scene, he kept his breathing cool, calm, and collected for her.

He cooed her back to sleep with repetitions of, “I’ll never leave you, my darling.”

No matter the nightmare, he would always keep his word.

levi masterlist // main masterlist

#levi #levi x reader #fanfiction #my writing #alias's #fluff #oneshot #2020

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filmmakerdreamst · 4 years

Text

Xena: Warrior Princess Review

During Pride Month 2020, I finally got around to watch ‘Xena’. A show that had been in my to-watch list for years, but never got around to start. And when I finally did, I was pleasantly surprised. It was not what I expected and it was everything I think my 11 year old self would have loved.

The one thing that surprised me about the show, was the lack of packaging. Even though it was a fantasy, it also played with different kinds of genres too. I’ve talked about this before in my other review - ‘Xena’ was made at a time when TV had very few rules/rarely had a set audience, since there were parts of the show that were clearly for kids and there were other parts that were clearly for adults (therefore had much more flexibility). I admired how they weren’t afraid to break barriers and touch on deep themes such as religion, morality, redemption, spirituality, motherhood, forgiveness etc - even more than shows of today are able. I also loved how they played into the idea of ‘murder’ and how much it can damage a person - not just the person who commits the act, but the many people affected afterwards. I wasn’t expecting it to be that extreme. It made me think that this must of been the inspiration for ‘Game of Thrones’.

I see a lot of comments here and there, saying how ‘cheesy and terrible’ it was but to just accept it because its part of the fun. And while like any show it does suffer from the occasional spell of bad writing (the whole of season 5) but it was also shown to be very aware of that fact and never took itself too seriously - unlike some shows I could mention.

And regarding the ‘cheese’ factor (what 90s show wasn’t) It definitely can be, but I would call it ‘camp’ and ‘experimental’ more than anything else. (Don’t diss the poor use of CGI - I’m personally sympathetic to what was avaliable to them at the time) The style of humour reminded me of Taika Waititi’s filmmaking. If you’ve watched any of his films such as ‘Hunt for The Wilderpeople’ or ‘Jojo Rabbit’, then you know what I’m talking about. I liked how little they cared about being accurate or logical, which added to the ‘bonkers’ element in the show - which you can see in all of Taika Waititi’s films.

In all seriousness, a show centered around two women in their late twenties, who are realistic sizes (not trying to play teenagers). One of whom is a reformed mass murderer, who has lived a life experience, trying to do good in the world for the first time, picking the other one up who has no life experience prior (after they bugged them until they said ‘ok fine’) in their path to redemption. Just two women who become friends travelling the world together, fighting crime, having a laff, learning from one another without any toxicity - when suddenly when the stakes are raised - they realise ‘oh I'm actually falling in love with this person’ I have watched a lot of badly written shows in my childhood enough to know that, that’s not ‘cheesy’. I’ve never seen a story like that in my entire life. I’m not at all surprised that Russel T Davis was inspired by it while writing the Doctor and Rose’s relationship in ‘Doctor Who’ since he’s gay himself.

What’s more amazing about their love story is how they’re both develop as separate people as well. There was this video essay explaining ‘Why you should watch Angel’ the spin off series to Buffy; how ‘Buffy The Vampire Slayer ‘was all about growing up and ‘Angel’ was all about being an adult. With Xena: Warrior Princess, you have both of those stories at the same time.

Xena’s character was such a multifaceted experience to watch. And I can’t imagine anyone else who could play her as well as Lucy Lawless. What planet did they get that actress from? She's flawless! The amount of skill she has to put herself into a very physical role is astonishing. I personally had a love/hate relationship with her character all series long. Not in the way that I hated her, just that I couldn’t trust if she was all good or bad, which I know was intentional on the writers part. I haven’t seen a character quite like her before. She felt very much like a fallen angel; almost like the villain of her own story. Some of my favourite episodes come from fleshing out her character and dark past (‘Locked up and Tied Down’ is one of them) which reminds the audience that's she's not the stereotypical hero everyone expects. I loved her transformation from being this incredibly stoic warrior to being content and happy with who she is in season six, all because of a woman she fell in love with along the way.

I’ve always thought of Gabrielle as the real hero and narrator of ‘Xena’. She’s the prime example of ‘a normal person becoming extrodinary’. Gabrielle’s coming of age story starting out as an innocent girl from a poor village dreaming of adventure, and ending as this vicious warrior who realises the ‘adventure’ wasn’t how she made it out to be is honestly the best character arc that I’ve ever seen. I loved how travelling with Xena made her realise her passion for writing (which was never going to happen in her home town, given the ‘sexist’ and ‘heteronormative’ ideas) and that she became a amazon princess like Xena. In regards to her sexuality, which is more up for debate than Xena’s (which I think we can all agree is bisexual) I personally interpret her as gay, just in terms of how she was written. Theres this moment in season 4 where she's being held up her hair, and Xena “symbolically” cuts it off ‘freeing her’. And she never really gets with a man afterwards, unless she’s being ‘possessed. It reminded me of a moment in one of Hayao Miyasaki’s films ‘Laputa, Castle in the Sky’ where the bad guy Moska shoots Sheeta’s ‘princess hair off’ which symbolises her transition from child to adult.

The cinematography was breathtaking. There was some great utilisation of New Zealand as the scenery. So was the soundtrack. You could tell it was made by experienced filmmakers. One of my favourite things about the show was the domestic elements - moments in the show where time seemed to stop - which made the world around the characters seem very real and magical. Even though it was a show that featured a lot of action/adventure, there was also this gentleness to it as well. For example, you could feel the wetness of the rain, the warmth of the sun and the clashing of the waves. This technique is used in Hayao Miayasaki’s work a lot .

The technique is referred to as ‘MA’ 空虚 meaning emptiness in Japanese. ‘Miyasaki describes this as the time between a clap’

“If you just have non stop action, with no breathing space at all, its just busyness. But if you take a moment, then the tension building in the film can grow into a wider dimension” - Hayao Miyasaki

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The episode ‘A Day in the Life’ in season two is a really good example of this technique being used.

To my understanding, they used a lot of the local actors in New Zealand, which according to Lucy Lawless, consisted of ‘African immigrants and other different ethnicites’. It was so refreshing to see such a diverse show (despite some slip ups) especially in the 90s. I appreciated the idea that if the actors or extras couldn’t do an ‘american accent’ people could just talk in their natural speech which was also very refreshing.

The LGBT representation was surprisingly amazing. I never expected so many queer characters in one show - especially under the censors. There was this one episode where they had a trans woman - played by an actual trans actress - win a beauty contest. It made me cry. Not to mention the actress was an aids activist. It was actually Lucy Lawless’ idea to kiss her which was incredibly controversial at that time considering how everyone thought you could catch aids just by kissing. I can definitey see how it validated people back in the 90s.

When people told me that Xena: Warrior Princess was one of the greatest love stories, I thought they were exaggerating a little. But no, watching the show in context, I found out that it really is. Despite its obvious restrictions, It made me realise (regarding token gay couples today) how often television writers rely on physicality and drama to convey a ‘love story’ and how much of it is actually pandering the audience. One of the reasons why Xena and Gabrielle’s relationship felt so genuine is because it was built on mutual respect/compassion and they were also best friends. I felt like I was witnessing something very real and private. It didn’t need kissing scenes or drama to make it interesting.

It really helped that most of the writers were queer also. There’s this opening scene in season 4, panning over to Gabrielle giving Xena a massage (metaphor for sex - because they weren’t able to show that on screen) which I consider to be one of the most iconic scenes in media - considering how I wanted to sick up my supper when I watched the 10 minute ‘empty’ explicit sex scene in ‘Blue in the Warmest Colour’. The difference when something is written by a queer women vs a straight man.

Because the creators weren’t allowed to write their love story in the normal way, due to the studio forbidding them to, they found creative ways to showcase that love on screen - which made for a very magical/sensual experience. And I can safely say, if anyone has doubts about watching ‘Xena’, whenever I expected to be queer baited at a few points in the show, I was proved wrong time and time again. It’s the most romantical show I’ve ever seen in my life!

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nileqt87 · 3 years

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Thoughts on WandaVision by a non-Marvel fan

As someone who had only seen a single Marvel movie (The Avengers) and only watched Jessica Jones season 1 for David Tennant (while hating nearly every other character in it), which had none of these characters, I only watched WandaVision precisely because it dared to break the mold and be even remotely ambitious instead of doing the same old CGI cartoon fest over and over. And somewhat because of what Marvel has done to the film industry, television has completely and utterly overtaken film as where emotional, dramatic storytelling now happens.

And okay, I happen to have had a major TVLand addiction growing up and binged a ton of the shows referenced in WandaVision long ago (yep, those very same '50s-'80s sitcoms). I couldn't pass up the retro. Love at first sight. Combine that with what promised to be a tragic, human/non-human romance. Sold. I knew little else about the characters.

For a long time, I've seen female fans (in particular) comment on how part of the reason they write fanfiction for Marvel is that they have to read between the lines just to add the implied dramatic content of the relationship focus variety that never quite gets developed in canon (certainly not up to the standard of what a fic reader expects). I saw a few comments that pretty much described WandaVision as exactly that: a fix-it fanfic before tragic reality invaded Pleasantville. Wanda's whole Hex was essentially a glorified fix-it fanfic.

For this reason alone, I can only hope the success of WandaVision gets them to create a season 2 that is dedicated solely to Wanda trying to put her family (Vision) back together that does the tragic romance justice in a way that giving them side parts in other people's movies just isn't going to cut it.

I feel like Vision's ultimate resurrection or even Wanda's struggle with her grief is better left to her own headline story, whether be it film or television. Television is the only medium that is going to allow the actors to really sink their teeth into this sort of star-crossed, tragic drama and not have it relegated to a minor side-character plot. Either give Wanda and Vision their own movie (hopefully, with heightened focus on character development as a lesson learned from television) or wait to integrate the mind and body of Vision in another season that gives both of them center stage with room to develop it.

Them having their twins for real might also be worth a season 2 in a way that probably wouldn't even work on film, as showing such a feminine pregnancy storyline would be a helluva departure for a Marvel movie that goes from action set piece to action set piece.

I wouldn't even hate it if Wanda's sitcom comfort zone made a few more appearances, even if it is merely the occasional domestic fantasy or dream/nightmare, so there is a way to not completely divorce a potential season 2 from season 1's "gimmick". It could be merely as simple as her pointedly doing something Sam/Jeannie-esque with her magic. Cooking with floating kitchen items would be an easy nod.

Probably not what Marvel is thinking of doing, but as a non-Marvel fan, WandaVision has a real opportunity to pull in new viewers with very different tastes that have so far managed to give the films a wide berth. It would do so much better as a show.

Go the route of giving these characters their own headlined projects and Marvel could have a real juggernaut of a 'ship, as well. My impression was that WandaVision got a lot of fans talking about the characters and their relationship in a way that the previous films and comics had not; some even making comments they had barely paid attention to the characters before the show.

IMO, the mere character descriptions sound like some of the most interesting and fleshed-out characters Marvel has got right now with real opportunity for real dramatic depth. And that's putting aside that Scarlet Witch is one of the most powerful characters on the entire Marvel roster. Making a whole television season about a character going through the stages of grief and about a woman who just wants the family she lost back (a woman who desperately wants a husband and children, no less) was very different territory for Marvel. Human/non-human, in addition to having the level of doom that makes tragedies very, very memorable.

There's tropey drama potential there that hasn't been mined with the non-human who becomes more and more "human" (it's the stuff of fairy tales and sci-fi both). Hayward or someone like him could easily be used as a character who doesn't see Vision as equal to humans, for example. Delve into the sort of existential questions about artificial life achieving consciousness no less feeling than a human's that stories like Data on Star Trek, Blade Runner and Bicentennial Man pose. That species difference without the magic of sitcoms could be mined for a gorgeously dramatic plotline. What it means to be human explored through the non-human--one of my favorite tropes.

And of course, it's the stuff of fairy tales--most notably Pinocchio (the once-inanimate learning to and desiring to become real by proving himself worthy and because it fulfills the greatest wish of the person who loves them most), combined with the interspecies romance elements of The Little Mermaid (tragic ending or not--see also the desperate acts taken to achieve this cosmically-denied togetherness, only for such a tragic ending to come of it in the original work).

Given that the MCU movies just lost a bunch of their A-listers, they need something big like this. Marvel needs philosophical and character-driven meat on its meager dramatic bones. Here are two actors who could carry something more ambitious and pick up an entirely different audience. Marvel could get an even bigger female audience with these two, IMO. And it wouldn't be cheap girl power pandering either (I say this as a girl). These characters are legit with incredibly warm, likable, endearing performances behind them. This chemistry works 100%.

I think White Vision having an existential crisis where he's questioning what he is if he has all the memories of a being who clearly can feel every human emotion (the idea that we are our memories), but at the same time knowing that he's only artificial life, would be an interesting lead-up to Vision being fully restored with his full consciousness in addition to the added memories of what he experienced inside the Hex.

A restored Vision would have to reconcile what Wanda did in her grief over him and her family. It's also a glimpse at the life Wanda wants with him, which included something that isn't biologically possible, though it likely is through her own abilities of creation. There's also the idea of balance that he's the one who might hold her back from the brink of going down any further dark paths as a figure of ordered stability for her, while she is key in the chaos of his becoming more "human". The to-be parenthood story is obviously hanging over them.

The situation with Hayward intending for White Vision to remain a mere machine that can be manipulated and used as a weapon in a way that an independently-thinking Vision can't be is also a path to go down. As I said, there's a potential storyline about prejudice regarding artificial intelligence, even if it has all the emotional capability of humans.

And on top of that, Vision is in a relationship with a human, even if it's one who could potentially be the key to restoring his consciousness through her own link with the original Mind Stone. It also furthers Wanda's role as a mother and creator if she can give him back his life in this way. While the heroic Avengers might not question them being "an unusual couple", who says everyone else would be so kind?

I really think he needs to be brought back. Wanda desperately needs him for her story to continue.

#wandavision #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #vision #scarlet vision #wanda x vision #elizabeth olsen #paul bettany #marvel

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limerental · 4 years

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geraskier fic recs

aka everything i remembered to bookmark on ao3 just vomited into a tumblr post because i want to yell about them (and there are more than this that I enjoyed dearly i am just very silly and forget to save them)

under a cut to spare your dashboard

b-sides and rarities by fathomfive, 6.4k

note: i am weak for pining, long meandering but inevitable feeling journeys toward one another, deeply felt landscape description and melancholy ballads and this fic is all of those

excerpt:

He plays a few idle notes, and then slides smoothly into a tune that’s at once familiar and new. It’s a walking song, a good steady-paced melody without flourishes. He plucks a note, holds it in his throat and hums, and sings. Morning came over the mountains, there I was, there we were.

Noon burned above the broken path, you left but I return.

A season’s span to where I find you, call and I return.

O the light fades in the valley, I’ll return, return.

here, where the world is quiet by @drawlight, 5.4k, explicit

note: the jaskier pov in this is very, very lovely and it was hard to pick an excerpt because all the prose is lovely and jaskier’s descriptions of geralt are particularly lovely

excerpt:

“But if you ever wanted,” Jaskier spreads his hands, his long fingers, spreading out the wrinkles of the bedsheets. The weight of Geralt next to him is constant. A promise. They constantly circle, dance to unsung songs. Geralt never dances, except here, around Jaskier. (You can run so far away, Witcher, but space is not that forgiving. There is so much nothingness, nothing to block, nothing to get in the way. On a good night, from a clear plain with little light pollution, one can see twenty-quadrillion miles into the sky. Jaskier thinks this number sounds absurd but he trusts the arithmancers and knows in his heart, in his blood, his bones that it is the truth. Jaskier knows there is nowhere to hide; he has tried.)

The Ballad of Pots and Pans by 6th_magnitude, 8.1k

note: this one’s got oblivious geralt realizing all of jaskier’s songs, even the less obvious ones, are actually about him and excellent banter and some poignant and painful bits about jaskier’s mortality and also just a bunch of really great ballads.

excerpt:

Jaskier startles, and looks at Geralt a little dazedly. “Nothing. It’s – oh, I just wanted to write something good and true to capture everything I feel in this moment, and I cannot for the life of me write it at all! What good is being a poet if you cannot translate the most important feelings of your life to pen and paper? What good is it if I cannot write you a song, so that one day you might remember this morning?”

“I’ll remember it,” Geralt replies quietly. “I don’t need a song to remember it.”

Jaskier smiles at him, his eyes shining a little with unshed tears of frustration. “Even so, I would like to memorialise this feeling, record every detail, so I might recall it later. The human memory is so fallible, you know. It’s why we make songs and stories – to remember feelings, even when facts have faded from all memory.”

“I’ll remember it,” Geralt says again, sleepily. “I’ll remember this feeling. No matter what.”

swallow my breath and take what is mine by @anacaoris, 6.5k, explicit

note: this has got jaskier giving all sorts of nice things to geralt that he doesn’t feel he deserves and misunderstandings and geralt not knowing how to use his words or brain cell and oh also there’s smut

excerpt:

Fingers flex in his hair, running a shudder down his spine at the spark of it. Part of him wishes he knew better what to say, that this could be simpler. That he was born with the same poetry spilling from him enough to say all that he tucks in his lungs but he’s not, he’s better with action, better with showing just what he needs to mean so Geralt brings a hand up, curls it around Jaskier’s and keeps it in messy locks, still damp from the bath as he sinks to his knees. “Sweet merciful blessings, I will, ah, I’ll take this as a ye-ehs.”

Companionship by ArliaDevi, 4.1k

note: really fun take on their relationship in ciri pov and i love found family domesticity so much and geralt teaching ciri things and glimpses of tender moments

excerpt:

When Geralt gets back, covered in what Ciri is quite sure is intestines, they eat quietly in the corner of the inn. Jaskier plays his music, his hat out for coins. He sings well, Ciri has to admit, and there’s an entrancing quality about the way he performs, luring all eyes to him. Even Geralt’s eyes seem to wander back to Jaskier, lingering on him just long enough that Ciri manages to steal a few mouthfuls of ale.

‘Don’t think I didn’t notice that,’ Geralt mutters as Ciri slides the large stein back in place.

‘Girls in Cintra drink at ten,’ Ciri replies matter-of-factly.

‘No, they don’t.’ Geralt takes another mouthful of ale before sliding it towards Ciri. ‘Don’t let Jaskier see.’

‘Stealth training?’

Geralt rolls his eyes. ‘Sure.’

look what you made me do by @cicaklah, 6.5k, explicit

note: is just another in the “jaskier’s songs are all about geralt and geralt is a dumbass” genre and also there’s deeply immersive scenery details and also also there’s a truly filthy sequel that is not on this list only because i still have some level of shame but it’s here in spirit

excerpt(s):

They ride half a day, Geralt chatting to Roach about all the injustices in the world, most of which are food related, with Roach hrumphing every now and then in response. Around them the fallow fields are untouched, resembling plush, perfect eiderdowns, with gnarled trees like the posts of a fine bed, fit for a giant. The sky is clear after the storm, bluer than at the height of summer and vast, their clouds stolen for the ground.

and

Geralt understands how long sex can last, always feels sorry and guilty for the women he beds who don’t understand that stamina was one of the most successful mutations he gained. He hates how easy it is to push that little bit too far into pain unless he’s careful (and he’s always careful, he loves women, loves their pleasure, never lets himself get carried away) but now there’s a man behind him and he realises that he can take it, that they made him perfectly for this by accident, so he can take all that male stamina and strength into himself and enjoy it like a glutton, enjoy it in the way he only has been able to a handful of times in his life, match every stroke with his own power.

Dawn by Sylvalum, 3.5k

note: this one is a bit different to the others on this list but it’s got delightful yen & jaskier developing friendship and a touch o the ole melancholy that i so very much crave

excerpt:

Yennefer doesn’t say anything, so eventually Jasker turns back to the grave and lowers the body, then starts to shovel the earth back in, rich soil and sandy dirt and tufts of dead grass. He tries to cover the dead sorceress carefully, to send her off into the eternal night gently, but he fumbles too much and works too fast. Impatience and fear have burnt away his flesh so now there’s only nerve endings left to hide his ragged bones. It’s… it’s been a long day. He’s been digging for most of it.

Yennefer simply watches, standing behind Jaskier like a disapproving mother. Until suddenly she says in an oddly quiet voice, “Her name was Sabrina.”

And Jaskier stills. Haltingly, Yennefer steps forward to stand and look at the grave for a moment.

And after that, she starts to help Jaskier dig the graves.

To Sleep Perchance To by sospes, 16.9k, canon-typical violence & gore

note: it isn’t a fic rec list by me unless it’s got angst on the list so warning for torture and unreliable reality and general gnarly descriptions of violence and psychological damage. this broke my heart a wee bit and it may just break yours.

excerpt:

In those quiet, maybe-false moments, Jaskier knows that if this goes on much longer, he’s going to lose his mind. It’s not a panicked thought, not a terrified thought, it’s a cool, calm, logical realisation that he doesn’t think he can get away from. He’s losing the ability to know what’s real and what isn’t. He’s spending every waking second in a nightmare of blood and betrayal. And there’s nothing he can do to escape.

Geralt comes and presses him up against the cold stone wall of the cold stone cell, pinning his wrists above his head with one impossibly strong hand. He kisses him, slow and languid, and then he sucks a bruise into the side of his neck, using too much teeth and too much tongue. “I’ve missed you,” he murmurs into Jaskier’s throat, and Jaskier takes the opportunity to knee him in the balls.

let us shake the abacus by @et-in-arkadia, 3k, explicit

note: this is simple, shameless smut and i am only allowing myself to slap it at the bottom of this list because i’m fond of the author’s work in general and also the dynamic, man, this dynamic is what it’s all about

Resigned to his poor decision-making for the evening, Geralt breaks away from where he's sucked a bruise into the soft skin of Jaskier's neck. Jaskier is moving against him like a ship on an unruly sea, increasingly impatient and unmoored.

"Tell me," Jaskier insists. He scratches lines down Geralt's back, then grabs Geralt's ass to haul him closer. "Geralt. Tell me."

This is also different: Jaskier likes to hear him talk, prefers to hear, above all else, Geralt's intent. Jaskier's need for words is limitless, unquenchable—Geralt has made him come all but untouched by whispering into Jaskier's ear the things that he'd do, given the time. It's really quite extraordinary. Which is perhaps why Geralt entertains the request, despite not being exactly given over to loquaciousness himself.

#geraskier #geralt x jaskier #the witcher fic recs #geraskier fic recs #long post

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marvelslut16 · 4 years

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A helping hand

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x reader

Synopsis:(Y/N)’s younger sister is part of the party. so what happens when she witness’s Billy getting hit when she goes to pick Max up and then when he arrives bloody and bruised on her doorstep two days later? Will she help him and let him in on her life before Hawkins, or will her hatred for him make her turn him away? Takes place between seasons 2 and 3.

Word count: 2602

Warnings: First (and possibly only) time writing for Billy, so he’s pretty OOC. Swearing. Abuse. Neil being the grade a asshole that he is. Talk of domestic violence. Angst?

“Stay in the car, I’ll be back in a minute,” you turn around to face your little sister, Carol, who’s sitting in the back seat flipping through the pages of her seventeen magazine.

“Okay,” she glances up at you. “We’re supposed to be at the arcade in ten minutes, we can’t be late.”

She’s frantic that she’ll be late and upset Dustin. “Ah, young love,” you tease her as you step out of the car, catching the last seconds of her sticking her tongue out. Carol and Dustin had been friends their entire life, and she’s been in love with him for almost as long.

You make your way to the front door of the Hargrove house, you’re here to pick up Max and drop the two off at the arcade to meet up with the rest of the party. It was a cold and snowy January in Hawkins, so the kids obviously couldn’t ride their bikes or skateboards. As you get closer to the door, you swear you can hear the hushed tone of someone yelling at their kids. You ignore the uneasy feeling rising in your stomach and knock on the door.

Susan Hargrove answers the door with a fake smile plastered on her face. You’re about to greet her when you hear shouting coming from down the hall. “You’re just a worthless fucking faggot Billy,” you hear a male voice bellow, you make eye contact with Max over her mothers shoulder. She looks embarrassed, which makes a deep frown appear on your face. This must be normal. “You’re too busy staring at yourself in the mirror that you can’t drive your sister to the arcade, you make some girl come out of her way to get Maxine.” Billy and his father are now in your line of sight, but blocked from your sister's view because of your frame.

Before you can assure them that it’s no problem and that it was actually on the way Billy mumbles, “she’s not my sister.”

“We’ve already talked about this,” his father seethes. “You need to learn respect and responsibility.” As the last word leaves his lips the sound of flesh on flesh resonates in the air.

It takes you half a second to realize that Neil’s hand is in the air and Billy’s face is turned away from the door. The smack happened so fast that you almost missed it. A small gasp leaves your lips, reminding everyone that you just witnessed their dark secrets. Billy’s blue eyes snap to yours as they seem to glow in rage, but towards you and not his father. There’s also a sadness deep within those angry eyes, a sadness that only someone who can relate can see.

Max is frantically pulling on her red winter coat, trying to get out of the house as fast as humanly possible.

“I’ll have Max home by eight,” you give Susan a sad smile. “I have to go shopping, but then I’ll be at the arcade with the kids for the rest of the time. And really, it was no bother picking her up, Max and Carol get along great.”

“Bye mom,” Max mumbles as she pushes her way out the door and towards your car. Susan gives you one last sad smile, and your eye’s briefly flick to Billy who looks like he’s about to break something, before the front door closes.

As you walk away you can hear Neil’s voice pick back up, there’s a part of you that wants to cry for the poor broken boy on the other side of that door. But it’s Billy, the bully, the new king of Hawkins High. The Billy that goes around tormenting Steve, and the one that makes fun of the nerdy kids. No, you wouldn’t cry for him. He’s just as bad as his father.

Max and Carol talk and laugh the entire way to the arcade. Max pretending nothing happened, and Carol none the wiser to what goes on in the Hargrove house. Carol is impatient and practically jumps out to the car before it stops moving, five minutes late from when she promised Dustin she would be here. Max is slower, almost like she’s at war with herself on whether to say anything or not.

“Max,” you say as she slides a foot out the door. “If it’s ever too much and you need somewhere to stay for a night, our door is always open. No questions asked and no one has to know.”

“Thanks,” she says quietly before following your sister into the arcade.

When you drop Max off later that night Billy’s Camaro is nowhere to be seen.

At school the next morning you feel a tight grip around your wrist as you’re walking down the hall to first period. Before you can properly react you’re spun around and engulfed in the strong scent of cologne and cigarette smoke. You’re once again greeted by Billy’s angry blue eyes as he pulls you into a secluded corner.

“Let go of me,” you glare at him, yanking your wrist away from him. Taking a few steps back, wanting as much space between you and him as you could get. Billy looked angry, and you sure as hell didn’t want to be on the receiving side of that anger.

“I don’t want your pity and you best not say anything to anyone about what you saw yesterday (Y/L/N),” Billy threatens. Even though it’s the middle of January Billy still only has half of his shirt buttoned. His chest muscles visibly flexing with his erratic angry breathing.

“Why the hell would I say anything? Just so you can deny it before beating me to a pulp like you did to Steve? I’ll pass,” your eyes narrow at the bad boy. “And I sure as hell don’t fucking pity you. Yeah, you’re life sucks, Neil sucks. But you choose to be just like him. Abused or not, that’s no excuse to become the bully Hargrove. A bad life doesn’t give you the excuse to be a shit person. And you could try to be nicer to Max, while she may not be the one getting hit, living in a toxic home is just as terrible.”

Billy takes a step back, like you’ve burned him. His face holds a faint trace of sorrow, good. Maybe he’ll be knocked down a peg or two. Out of the corner of your eye you see Steve shoot you a weird look as his eyes land on you and his enemy.

“Harrington,” you call as Steve walks passed you and Billy. He stops and turns around, raising an eyebrow when his eyes flick to your company. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Studying for our calculus test,” he watches you intently as you step closer to him, still wondering why you were with Billy.

“The kids are coming over to watch the new Indiana Jones, do you want to join us? We can study after the movie, I love Harrison Ford too much to actually miss the movie,” you laugh softly. “Plus my parents left this morning, so I’m babysitting seven hormonal middle schoolers alone, please save me.”

“You’ll be fine,” Steve laughs at your over dramatic attitude.

“Half of them are dating each other, and then my sisters crush on Dustin, I can’t handle all that drama on my own,” you whine as you start to walk down the hall. “Plus it's free pizza, popcorn, and all the ice cream you can eat. And a new episode of Saturday Night Live when the kids fall asleep” You bat your eyelashes at your friend and co parent to the party.

“Fine,” he sighs reluctantly. “But Hargrove better not be there.”

“Like he’d ever show up,” you laugh as you run down the hall as the warning bell sounds.

Before you know it, it’s Saturday afternoon and you’re surrounded by kids. Susan dropped Max off first, and the poor woman couldn’t look you in the eyes. And that fact that Billy, who according to Max always takes her places, wasn’t the one dropping her off made you slightly worried.

You’re about twenty minutes into the movie and throwing popcorn at Steve when there’s a hesitant and irregular pounding on your front door. “Stay here,” you tell the kids. Steve follows a few steps behind you.

You’re greeted by Billy’s bruised face when you open the door. He has a bruised and swollen eye that pairs with his split lip. Dried blood on his chin and drops on his white shirt.

“Oh my God, Billy,” you breathe. Your body works without your brains help, and you gently grab his wrist and pull him into your house.

“I know you said the door was always open for Max,” his voice hoarse, almost like he was in a screaming match earlier. His right arm wrapped tightly around his torso. “Do ya think you can make an exception for me?” Max joins the three teens when she hears Billy’s voice, her face falls slightly at the sight of his condition.

“Steve, Max, why don’t you guys go back to the movie. Billy, let’s go get you cleaned up,” you grab his hand and gently pull him towards the stairs. Steve goes to protest, but Max pulls him away with her.

“What happened?” you ask after you shut the bedroom door behind you, running to the bathroom to get a wet washcloth. Billy remains silent as he watches your concentration face as you lightly dab at his split lip.

“I was working out too loudly, then I accidently spilled his beer,” Billy won’t look you in the eyes.

“We graduate in a few months and then you’ll be free,” you interject optimistically.

“You know I’ll never change, right?” Billy says as he thinks back to what you said to him school.

“I think you can,” you sigh, grabbing some aspirin. “You just choose not to.”

“What do you know?” he snaps, blue eyes murderous.

“More than you would think,” you deadpan, lifting his shirt to rest under his pecs. Boy was it hard not to just rip it off completely.

“If you wanted me shirtless you just had to ask sweetheart,” Billy winks and seductively licks his lips. You inhale sharply, trying to ignore the rush of heat you feel throughout your body. Sure he’s hot, bet he’s a manwhore and an asshole. Don’t fall for it. Instead of verbally responding, you push on his ribs without warning and it’s his turn to inhale. “Shit!”

“They don’t feel broken or fractured,” you stare at the splotchy blue and purple bruises forming over his rib cage.

“How would you know?” he asks through clenched teeth.

“I have years of practice,” you hand him the aspirin and wait to talk until he swallowed the tablets. Were you really going to tell him this? “My dad, my birth one, used to toss me around like a rag doll. Carol got lucky, he liked her so he would never hurt her. But when he was mad at something she did he would just take it out on me twice as hard. I had to clean myself up when my mom would shut down, and I’d have to fight through the pain to check to see if anything was broken. One night it was so bad that I was unconscious on our kitchen floor when my mom and Carol got home. That’s the day my mom decided to leave him.”

“How old were you?” Billy’s face a mix of sadness and anger.

“Younger than Carol and Max. We moved around a bit before finally landing in Hawkins,” you’re afraid to look in Billy’s eyes. Afraid to find that pity he didn’t want to be on the receiving end of. “I know you have a distaste for the town, I did too when I moved here my freshman year, but it’s the first place we stayed. It’s where my mom met my amazing stepdad, it’s home to some of us.”

“That’s why you offered Max a place to stay when it gets bad,” his voice softens as he stares at the side of your face.

“I had nowhere to go. Carol had nowhere to go,” you sigh. “I couldn’t let Max suffer through the same life we did.”

“I didn’t know,” he reaches forward and rest his fingers on top of yours.

“No one did, you’re the only one,” you pull your fingers away from his to wipe a single tear away. “Carol doesn’t even know, the doctors say she’s blocking out the memories, that it was so painful her brain refuses to remember it.”

“I want to be better,” he refuses to look you in the eye, opting to pick at the corner of your comforter instead.

“And you can be, one step at a time Billy,” you gently place your hand on his shoulder He finally looks up at you, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “It’s why I said you could change, be better. I’m nothing like my father, and I know you're strong enough to be better than yours.”

“Will you help me?” he sounds so vulnerable and defeated. So broken.

“Of course, as long as you’re actually trying.”

Thank you,” he lays down on your bed, pulling the sheets up over him.

“Do you like Saturday Night Live?” you ask as you walk to your door,

“I love it,” he gives you a lopsided smile you’ve never seen before.

“Cool. Get some sleep, and you can join Steve and me when it’s on tonight.”

“Anything for you sweetheart,” he shoots you a lazy wink.

“And Billy? You owe me big time,” you put on a fake scowl as you look into Billy’s tired blue eyes. “You made me miss shirtless Harrison Ford.”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, but doesn’t say anything. He’s too caught up in the way the bed smells like your floral perfume, and the strawberry shampoo that you use. He takes a deep breath, deeply inhaling your scent, trying to memorize it. To memorize the smell of safety and home. His eyelids grow heavy and he drifts off to sleep, wondering what changing would mean for the two of you.

“Where is he?” Steve immediately jumps up from the couch when you walk back into the living room.

“Upstairs sleeping off some pain meds,” you send hi a warning look. “Now how much did I miss?”

“Harrison is making out with the blonde chick,” Lucas says through a mouthful of popcorn.

“Well that narrows it down,” you laugh lightly.

“They’re giving the stone back to the village,” Carol adds. You let out a long sigh as you realize you missed almost the entire movie. You give Max a small smile, hoping that it conveys to her that Billy is alright.

“When’s Hargrove leaving?” Steve asks annoyed.

“He’s actually gonna watch SNL with us tonight,” you meet Steve’s angry eyes. “He promised to help make french toast in the morning.” That may have been a lie, but Steve doesn't need to know that. But something tells you that you’ll be able to convince him to help.

“So when are we gonna order pizza?” Carol cuts in, wanting to cut the tension.

“In a little,” you promise, as you sit down to enjoy the last few moments of Harrison Ford.

An hour and a half later, when the pizza’s on it’s way, you go upstairs to wake up Billy. “Don’t let me down Billy,” you whisper to his sleeping form as you lean against your door frame.

Part 2: Too much

Forever tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen @rexorangecouny

#dacre montgomery #billy stranger things #billy x you #billy x y/n #billy x reader #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things season 2 #stranger things season 3 #stranger things x reader

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ksmutclub · 4 years

Text

Let’s take a step...

Good Evening Everyone. Admin Tomi here.

I think we’ve reached the need for a full stop.

There’s going to be a lot here - please hang with me. I ask that you read this thoroughly, because I would like to have this be the cease fire for the current situation.

Firstly,

We are deeply sorry for any hurt, pain, trigger, or traumatic essence that has arisen in the midst of viewing the Monster Smash prompt list.

These prompts are based on popular horror movies and books. Things that we easily associate with Horror via authors like James Patterson and Stephen King [which a good chunk of these prompts come from]. So to us, and a majority of the voters/members, who wanted it to return? There was no issue.

The club rules *specifically* state that we do not allow the following

WHAT WE DON’T REBLOG

Sexualization of minors,

Incest,

Eating disorders,

Self harm,

Glorification of mental illnesses,

Animal abuse,

Any controversial topics,

Political topics,

Masterlists,

WIPs posts,

Domestic violence,

Abusive relationships,

Pedophilia,

Necrophilia,

Homophobic topics,

Racist topics.

Rape.

That has been the long standing no-no’s of this club since its inception. We didn’t understand why the anons, and few members that came forward, would think that we would:

A - allow any story that breaks the rules to pass through. B - that any of the writers/creators/esteemed members of this club would dip down to those levels to create material that does exactly what we ask not to be done.

We’re all adults, and trust that everyone knows right from wrong, and understands the ramifications of such issues.

We in no way intended to cause trauma, downplay anyone’s trauma, or ‘insult’ anyone with mental health issues.

But.

We cannot stop creators from writing things that may include dark topics.

We believe in the portent of trigger warnings required on each story. Because what could be a trigger for you? Could be a cathartic release for someone writing from a similar experience, or someone with an interest in said experiences.

We trust and believe in you all to believe in self-care. Meaning that if someone happens to post a yandere story with a trigger warning for blood? That you would move to the next story. We believe that every reader and creator are the masters of their Tumblr experience and will act in accordance with the safety of their well-being and mental health in consideration.

With that all being said? The h***ler prompt was missed/misstep. Again, we profusely apologize for that one making the list. There is no excuse, I will attempt to offer none. The K Smut Club Admins will do better to be more mindful/careful/watchful of such things in the future.

Now, a point was made during the back and forth of the evening. That one message cleared most of the confusion. A trigger warning on the prompt list. Which in hindsight, may or may not have made a difference. But, it would at least show that we DID hear you about the certain prompts [esp. the h**ler one, cause that should've never gone up. So we thank that member for catching it].

So going forward, since this has been a lesson, we will make sure to trigger warning as best we can for the next Monster Smash event. As a reminder, the prompts are purely voluntary to serve as an example of what you could possibly write. None of these were mandatory, or necessary to participate in the event.

Again, with any event the idea of your story and where it goes is always up to you, the creator.

To the matter of the prompt examples list?

We can all agree to disagree. Everyone perceives things differently. Again, we trust you all to be mindful of the rules and not write anything that would be considered illegal. For example:

A brother and sister find an old door in their basement that wasn’t there before.

Hansel and Gretel; or Brother and Sister monster hunters, sister gets kidnapped by demon that’s been lusting over Brother. Or in secret relationship with brother - sister is kidnapped with ultimatum to come on over to the bad side or they’ll make the sister disappear. So, no incest.

The abused animals of a zoo are unleashed and wreak havoc on a small town.

Based on James Patterson’s Book ‘Zoo’[and there was a miniseries]. Animals of the world suddenly developed a genetic abnormality that caused them to rise up and try to take the planet back. Believe it or not? There was romance/sex involved in the people trying to save the animals, the world, and themselves. One of the scientists fell for a reporter as they worked together for a cure. The story written could have the two people getting together and that amount of care they have for solving the menace - solves it. So, no abused animals.

Deceased soldiers return to their Civil War-era homes.

Based on multiple episodes of the Twilight Zone or the Outer Limits. People that may have died with strong regrets and the people who miss them terribly are given an opportunity to come back for one day. Fully alive, flesh and blood, breathing living - to spend one day with each other to help them move on. Also the movie Warm Bodies where a zombie regains his humanity, and undoes the curse of the undead by falling in love, of all things. The ‘zombie’ fully regains his humanity, living breathing, and bleeding - there’s even a kiss. So, no necrophilia.

A monster is terrified by the scary child who lives above his bed.

Based on Monsters Inc. and I’ve seen some Monster Inc Kpop fic smut out there, so it’s absolutely possible to have a single parent cleaning a kids room and shenanigans ensue, or not, and just be a super crack horror fic.

A family dog runs away from home. He returns a year later to the delight of his family. But there’s something different about him. Something demonic.

Based on Pet Sematary, Stephen King classic. Synopsis could be that parents lost a family pet, trying for a child, pet returns, horror ensues.

A child sleep-walks into their parent’s room and whispers, “I’m sorry. The devil told me to.”

Based on Case 39. A movie where the kid was a literally a demon posing as a child, and manipulated everyone around her and caused a bunch of deaths/mishaps.

I’ve made these few scant examples to prove there was no ill, illegal, or sick intent with the prompts posted. Each of them can be connected to a movie, book, or television series that many are familiar with.

Even though the rules state smut is required, where the smut happens within prompt depends on the story. But, wherever it should so appear would be required, of course, to act within the bounds of the clubs rules.

Because we trust you, the creators, to abide by them.

In closing,

Everybody has had different experiences in their lives. We are not going to pit pain against pain. No one’s pain is greater. Pain is pain and we all have suffered it, or will at some point. We must do what we need to in order to protect ourselves from things that hurt or trigger us.

I believe every network feels this sentiment and uses the trigger warning requirement in order to protect their readers from consuming content which would hurt them, while allowing the creator the opportunity to explore and create in the medium they see fit.

We are all humans trying to navigate a difficult time. We all have our ways to deal with these traumatic and painful happenings in our lives. We either talk about it with our peers who have the same experience, write to forge a path forward to some sort of healing in our own way- or we simply remove that reminder from our sphere of existence.

We will do the best in our capacity, in this network to create a space for both the reader and the creator to do what is best for them, while following all legal statutes set forth by Tumblr and the laws of the US where it is based.

If there are any club members that have issues with any of the prompts - we ask that you please DM the admin staff off anon, so that we can get an accurate count of the individuals that take offense.

There will be no bashing, no repercussions, or public shaming.

We want to make sure that the people in our network have a say in what happens within the club events. Just because we can see the story in the prompts, doesn’t mean everyone can. We would be happy to discuss the prompt or prompts in question, with examples or sources to assuage any fears that you have.

For those who were hurt, disturbed, disappointed, or felt the negativity wrought by this?

We again, humbly apologize that you have. We hope that we can move forward with the event and the growth of the club with your blessings and participation.

Sincerely, The Admin Team

P.S. - Death threats, threats of any kind are not ok. We’re all adults here. If you disagree then your blog is the space to do it. Stay out of folks DMs with that bullshit because you disagree - that goes for anybody that has spoken out disagreeing with the club and anyone outside toward the members within the club. We have differing opinions they should be respected. No one should be victimized any further than already experienced.

#announcements #monster smash 2020 #ksmutclub

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queeranarchist · 3 years

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Dear Writer

Heyyo!

It's good to see you here, this is a long exchange so the main thing is enjoying yrself so feel free to pick and choose or ignore this letter as you wish! And feel free to browse through my letter tag for more ideas.

Also, I’m on that full-time work and full-time uni degree grind so it probably will take me like a month to read the fic, does not mean I do not love it and I promise to get to it!! Don’t stress to much about a gap between posting and commenting <3

Now without further ado onto the letter:

General Likes: Trans characters, queer themes, queer solidarity, character development, strong gen. relationships and interactions with characters outside of a relationship, dialogue-driven story, non-linear narrative, animals, angst, hurt/comfort, character introspection

DNW: underage, a/b/o, past S7 for SPN

Supernatural

DNW: Anything past Season 7

Likes: boy king arc, Sam centric fic, queer Sam (I literally head canon him as anything with whatever pronouns), Bobby, trans Dean, religious iconography/themes, Sam being a lore nerd

Dislikes: Sidelining Sam 

Sam/Ruby

1. Ruby lives, I’d love to see how this plays out in Season Five. Whether she sticks with Lucifer or chooses Sam.

2. Sam goes dark side after freeing Lucifer

3. Earlier on Sam starts trusting her and fulfilling his role as the boy king. If this stops Dean from going to hell, changes the way the demons work etc

Sam/Jess

1. Jess lives au! My personal head canon is that Jess is pre-med and being very intent on saving people. When she finds out about hunting, she realises that she can’t just go back to being “normal” knowing people are dying. Maybe Sam decides to go back to law school and they have a semi long-distance relationship where she asks him for advice, maybe they hunt together every now and again. Maybe she joins Dean and Sam and they become a hunting trio.

2. Jess gets brought back to life – place this in any season you want! Go wild.

Dean & Sam

1. Dean keeps in touch with Sam during Stanford! Maybe from the get-go, maybe after a couple of years, maybe seeing each other, maybe just through postcards

2. I’d love to see them during S4 where their relationship starts to fall apart, but like also see them still loving each other

Sam & Dean & John

1. John gets a year to live instead of instantly going to hell AU – how do they react? Do they try to save him? Does John tell them?

2. I’d love a sort of non-linear story of them (especially Sam because it’s been so long) trying to integrate John into his adult life also looking at his life as a child/teen. You know the general angst about how he’d done it, he’d gotten away and he’s right back at square one. Also, Dean starting to realise that he isn’t a kid anymore, and he’s got his own thoughts etc

Sam & Dean & Cas - Cas/Dean & Sam

1. I want to see Sam and Cas and Dean being pals! I especially want to see Cas trying to figure out how he feels about Sam without heaven influencing him to think of him purely as the boy with the demon blood who will break the last seal. I wanna see Dean making fun of Cas with various misconceptions about the bible and Cas just taking it wildly seriously and not getting any jokes.

2. I’d love just a domestic-ish fic, let Sam drill Cas with questions about angels and heaven! Let Cas drill Dean and Sam about human culture! Would love to see Cas taking human culture things out of the context that Sam and Dean provide him, or maybe Dean purposely lies to him about something as a prank

Sam

1. Licherally anything in the boy king arc! I’d love to see him fulfilling his role as the boy king. This stops Dean from going to hell, changes the way the demons work etc

2. His time at Stanford! I’d love to see him adjusting to his new life.

3. I would love to see a bit more of him in Season Four! How he feels about Dean being chosen by the angels, how this affects his view on religion, how he feels about himself and the demon. Blood etc

4. Just some introspection anytime in the series tbh, love to see this boy struggle with wanting to be good, with wanting to be normal, and then um not being those things

5. I’d love a sort of non-linear story of Sam trying to integrate John into his adult life also looking at his life as a child/teen. You know the general angst about how he’d done it, he’d gotten away and he’s right back at square one.

Final Fantasy XV

Likes: fics that include the whole gang, trans Gladio, anything with Prompto, angst about destiny, angst about royal linage, character introspection

Noctis/Gladio/Ignis/Prompto

1. I really like angsty fics about destiny with this lot - I would love to see how the way in which they’ve been raised effects their relationship, be it being groomed to be king or shield or advisor. I would love a getting together fic, with whichever ship you wish to write, with a lot of internal angst.

2. I would also love a post cannon fic where Noctis is alive (magic, never died, skip over it entirely it’s up to you) where they all settle down, maybe Noctis lets the world think he has died so he can live a peaceful life?

3. Set between game cannon and Brotherhood, I‘d be down to see what these guys got up to in the years between high school and the road trip. Did Prompto and Noctis study after high school? Do they travel?’

4. Less of a prompt and more a vague feeling but like *slaps prompto* this bad boy can fit so much angst in it. Honestly he’s childhood is depressing af, with the lack of parents and friends combined with a shit body image/relationship with food I wld rlly love some emotional hurt/comfort with him and the squad

Noctis/Prompto

3. I would like to see a fic of Prompto integrating himself into Noctis’ life, Gladio and Ignis have been around his entire life, so how does Prompto feel about them? How do they feel about him? Honestly I’m 100% here for awkward insecure bby Prompto

4. Set between game cannon and Brotherhood, I‘d be down to see what these guys got up to in the years between high school and the road trip. Did Prompto and Noctis study after high school? Do they travel?

5. Less of a prompt and more a vague feeling but like *slaps prompto* this bad boy can fit so much angst in it. Honestly, he’s childhood is depressing af, with the lack of parents and friends combined with a shit body image/relationship with food I wld rlly love some emotional hurt/comfort with him and the squad

Naruto

Likes: the summons, Rock Lee, the squads and how they operate, Naruto getting to eat the ramen he deserves, Sakura being an actual bad arse fleshed out character, trans Naruto

Sasuke/Naruto

1. Naruto leaves and joins Sasuke on his mission to destroy to Leaf, talks him out of y’know murdering everyone but agrees that the Shinobi system is deeply fucked and needs to be fixed

2. I’d like a fic of Sasuke thinking about Naruto while doing all his plotting, be it set when he’s with Orochimaru or the Akatsuki, it would be nice to see him thinking about Naruto, wanting to stop doing so, wondering how strong he could have been if he had managed to kill him and gain the mangekyou earlier

Gai/Naruto

1. I’d like a fic set just before Kakashi gets his genin, really love to see Gai trying to talk up how cool having a squad is! Dragging Kakashi to see his kids and being like aren’t my team great! And then Team Gai getting into some crazy hijinks that make Kakashi a lil scared about the future but also maybe a bit endeared towards them

2. a fic of Gai watching Kakashi slowly loose himself while in ANBU, of him trying to make things right and not being able to and then eventually asking him to be removed from the forces

SDV

Likes: world building, farm creatures, small town hijinks

Sam/Seb

1. Angst about getting out of town, leaving SDV and becoming who they dreamed they would in HS

Sam & Seb & Abigail

1. Abigail talks them into exploring the mines

2. They pull a prank

3. Angst about getting out of town, leaving SDV and becoming who they dreamed they would in HS

#f5k #letter

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antihero-writings · 4 years

Text

Or You May Break

Fandom: Bloodborne

Fic Summary: Little red riding hood found the wolf in the woods, yes…but she also found him at home. || A character study/in-depth look into Vicar Amelia's transformation.

Notes: I mostly wrote this after I did Amelia's fight. She's a pretty minor character, but I've always found Amelia interesting, and aesthetically one of the coolest beasts, so I decided to write about her.

She's one of the characters it's hardest to find lore on, so my apologies if any of this is inaccurate. Please don't hesitate to point me to some nice in-depth lore discussions/posts, regardless! I'd love to learn more about her character.

I know there are theories out there that Amelia actually wanted to become beast, due to her prayer, but I like to think she didn't--that she was praying against it. I saw someone say on Reddit that her beastly screams sound slightly like "I don't want this!" I know that was probably just their far-fetched interpretation, but I found it extremely interesting and inspiring. Much like I mentioned my other Bloodborne fic--(The Offspring of a Dream)--I like to see redemption in everything, and this fic will have a lot to do with my positive interpretation of event. Especially since she's a member of the church, I certainly don't think she's innocent, yet at the same time, I think it's interesting that she was very aware she would become a beast, and essentially all she could do was sit and pray, and wait for it to happen. I also think it's interesting how we actually see her transform, all at once. So I wanted to explore all that.

I'd really appreciate it if you could leave a comment!! They really make my week, and motivate me to keep writing!!

I'll put the Ao3 and FF.net links in a reblog!!

Also, I have another Bloodborne fic, the Offspring of a Dream, I'd love it if you'd check out too!! Links in a reblog!!

Or you may break:

She watched the city burn. Not back then, no…but she watched men fall victim to the beasts within. She watched her friends grow horns and teeth. She watched her congregation become slaves to the blood, and the moon. She watched helpless, clutching Laurence’s pendant, kneeling before his beastly skull.

She did the only thing she knew how: she prayed.

She prayed that the plague would leave them, sooner rather than later. She prayed that humanity would find their strength, not give in. She prayed to the gods to give her guidance. She prayed that she wouldn’t fall prey to the beast herself.

As if words were enough to save her. Words and not actions. Words, and not blood.

The blood healed them. The blood turned them into beasts.

The blood was to be feared. The blood was to be praised. In equal measure, like the best of gods. Those things which are truly sacred can bring the worst of judgment.

Surely it was their own indiscretions, their own weaknesses which brought this on. It was because they, human, were too weak to bear the blood of gods that they became, not more holy, but less than themselves.

Our minds are too young to understand the nature of the cosmos. Too green...they must be broken.

In most fairy tales the beasts wait in the woods to pounce. We fear the dark for that’s where they may lie.

Little red riding hood found the wolf in the woods, yes…but she also found him at home, disguised as her closest kin.

She’d been around beasts long enough to know, yes, there were beasts in the woods. Not just the woods; in the cities, in abandoned houses, in the schools…Even in the church yard. They were everywhere. Always watching, waiting…and sometimes they didn’t wait.

But the beasts were at home too. They were our closest family members. They were ourselves. If we dug deep enough into our chests the beast would be there.

When in Rome, do as the Romans do. But when in Yharnam…you’ll do as the Yharnamites do eventually; you would become a beast. There was no question. No choice. No say in the matter…It was inevitable. No one remained human without losing their minds.

There must be a moral in there somewhere.

So the beast most feared wasn’t the hundreds waiting in the forbidden woods…it was the one sitting in your own veins. Still waiting. Waiting to break out of your skin. Devour your flesh, reason, and soul altogether.

And if Laurence couldn’t stop it, then how could someone as weak and breakable as her stop it?

She was soft and gentle, made for domestic life; meant to preach, to teach, not fight beasts.

So Amelia sat in the church, doing just that: softly, gently, preaching to herself, waiting, hoping, dreading, praying.

She knew it was coming for her. Sometimes she thought she could see it, in the corner of her eye. Even if she locked all the doors and prayed her hardest, one day the beast would pounce from her blood. She would never know exactly when, exactly how.

Would it come slowly? Would she watch in agony as her hands, piece by piece, became claws, her skin become fur—another inch each day, feel her jaw aching as it became, day by day, a wolfish snout? The grandmother’s clothes still there, you could almost believe she was still herself…until you looked at the teeth.

Or would it happen all at once, in one moment of sheer misery, without a second to spare, to organize her affairs, or a chance to scream?

And which would be more horrifying?

The members of the church became the worst of beasts. Why was that?

She had faith she could be saved. That they all could be saved. That the city would stop burning.

Time passed, and she dared to think that maybe it wouldn’t come, maybe the gods knew mercy. Maybe their faithful servant would live to see it end.

…Then a hunter walked in the church doors.

She wanted to talk to them, to answer their questions, to ask her own. To tell them she was no beast, and would not hurt them. That she meant no harm, although maybe they ought not come any closer—

—Because—

—They smelled like the moon—

—And she wanted to lick the moon off their fingertips—

—and she might just raid Red’s basket for a taste—

She could feel it in her heart. Something in there was writhing, crawling forward on greedy, bloody knees, desperate to break out. It had always been there, sleeping in its cell, but now it was awake, ready pry out of her ribcage and gobble up the moon on their wings.

The thing pried open her skin, like she was a jar, and this greedy, bloody thing wasn’t a beast…it was her. Herself, breaking out of herself, like some Russian nesting doll of dismay. A version of herself that she didn’t recognize. A version of herself she prayed against. A version of herself she promised wasn’t there.

A part of her that they all knew needed to be hunted.

She had always been soft, always followed the rules. She never had much of a wild streak. But this thing crawling through her veins was feral and untamed. She never knew such savagery, but there was beauty in the breaking.

But emerging from herself was painful; the black, razor claws within reached forward and pierced her chest, her skin erupting, bubbling into fur. The thing crept along her arms and legs, slithered within their veins, elongating them, with jerking, snapping motions, making them into the very claws that broke open herself—(but even with these claws she would not let go of Laurence’s pendant, she would not lose herself within herself). It climbed up her neck like it had a mountaineering pick, seized her face and made it into a snout—her teeth aching, her head splitting open—her hair pulling, lengthening across her body, like a snow made out of needles. …And as she screamed her voice deepened.

It was like fire and lightning, her skin and bones cracking like glass, the room painted red…yet there was a strange ecstasy in it all. This was what she would have guessed being born was like.

Did she want this? She couldn’t quite remember…Who was she? Was she that desperate girl praying at the alter, or was she this greedy thing made of blood and teeth?

She held the pendant tighter, and tried to remember why it was so important, to remember the prayers of that little girl in white.

No. She didn’t want this. To be this. She didn’t want to be a beast. To die as one. She tried to tell this moonlit hunter that…But only screams and roars echoed from her wolfish vocal chords now.

So she only did what she could; she fought for her life, defended herself. As best she could, with her new—still too breakable—beastly limbs. And she clutched the pendant, and she prayed for healing. Prayed that this too would pass. That there was such a thing as a cure.

There was…but it was only in death now.

She lost, still. Everything over as fast as it started. Put down before she could walk the world. She couldn’t save herself in as much as she couldn’t save her congregation.

And the hunter wiped her blood off their blade, and ripped the locket from her claws, and walked into the woods to slay the monsters there…all the while knowing the blood would be their undoing: the beast was waiting for them too. Waiting to pry its way out of their own veins. That one day—no one could know when, though you might want to check the moon—they’d come home, looking for grandmother, and find only the wolf.

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athousandsplendidsuns · 4 years

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walking in a winter wonderland

I was so inspired by @goldinavonlea ‘s incredible fic about Anne & Gilbert in summertime that decided to write my own about wintertime! Anne & Gilbert walk through the snow and Anne is full of lovely, reverent feelings.

Read it here or on ao3!

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Of all the things, lovely and otherwise, in this world of love and splendor, nothing brought her more joy than the first real snowfall of winter. Winter had arrived early that year by any reasonable criteria; the temperature had fallen below freezing as early as November, leaving icy designs on her windows in the mornings and sunsets of slanted, golden light through naked poplars in the evenings. Since then, the days and nights had been positively impregnated with possibility and snowflakes, the winterlands growing more and more splendid with every week that passed. In the haze of summertime, she had forgotten that days could be crisp and bright like these -- that the sun could shine, not burn, and that trees could breathe out their colorful leaves and replace them with white, pristine snowfalls to catch the light. She loved that her breaths floated out of her and stayed a while and she loved the small smudges of smoke that rose from each chimney as if the hand of some divine artist had slipped, just a bit, leaving only a reminder of his gray clumsiness upon the bright, white sky. Winter filled her with wonder and joy-- how lucky she was to gaze upon this earth, to see a world of white frosts.

There was something about this time of year as well… something romantical and strange that whispered itself into the breezes and brought her immense calmness. Perhaps it was that the stress of harvest had finally passed, along with it her first university exams, both pressures having melted like snowflakes upon her quizzical brow. But she could not deny that much of her present cheer was attributed also to the good company of the boy beside her, all rosy cheeks and snowflakes. Admittedly, though she reveled in the crisp air, the season would have been dreadfully more grim without his warmth to leech off of, his hand to hold. She was quietly thankful for the excuse the cold gave her to touch him without scorn, her attachment to him dutifully disguised by his gallant (and wholly necessary) assistance in keeping her from slipping on the ice. Her boots crunched snow underfoot and he pulled her closer and for a brief, shining moment it was as if summer had found a handhold in her heart, warming her all the way to her backbone.

He looked lighter now. She was not so egotistical as to believe that the cause lay solely in her, though she suspected that she played some small, yet significant part -- her ego would allow her a kernel of self-righteousness, after all. But his lightness extended all the way from his shoulders to his tread, as if he had suddenly found himself free of an immense weight, and was taking his first steps as a free man. It gave her a small thrill to think of him as such-- as a man . He was such a lovely contradiction in her eyes; somehow in the same moment she could look at him and see the person he would become, the person he was, and the person he had been when they had first met. Beneath the new, sharper angles of his jaw and cheek, she remembered how he had been soft, once. How his eyes had shone with youth and mirth but now they held wisdom, truth. Perhaps he was still all of those things--- young, soft, wise, true. But the boy had been replaced, transformed. And he walked freely now, his hand in hers.

His hand. Oh, how breathless and strange to hold him thus after so long with only his words and a few pieces of paper as a substitute. She used to think about him and how his warm hand had passed over the page and given careful words specifically to her. She still had not gotten used to it, to the thrill it caused to see her name preceded by the words ‘ my dearest’ in his elegant script, nor the way he seemed so sure about unloading his heart onto her. If the things she adored about him could be enumerated, there at the top of a list that spanned for ages would be his brown eyes in the fading winter sunlight, the snow in his curly hair, and the insurmountable depth of his human heart. After everything he had endured, she was astonished and moved at how easily he seemed to care for her.

Suddenly awash in affection for him, she turned and pressed a kiss to his shoulder where it met his arm-- the one she hung off of so greedily.

“What was that for?” He asked, the quiet joy in his voice perceptible only to her in the entirety of the winter widescape.

“My lips were cold.”

“Is that so?”

“Dreadfully, horribly cold.”

Then, into the winter air sparkled his laugh and he promptly turned himself to her, put his hands to her cheeks, and pressed his lips upon hers. This , she realized with an inward sigh, was something that she would never get used to either. After so long aching and burning for him, years of it without her having even known, it was a pleasure undefinable to be able to feel his lips, soft and pliant, beneath her own.

A brisk winter wind ruffled past them and pulled at her hair and jacket and she had the quiet but irreverent feeling that even the earth itself was content to see them together, so incandescently happy. It was as if the chill had pressed a hand to the small of her back and pushed her closer into his embrace-- into his warmth. He had kissed her only five times in all the years of knowing him, each one more startling and singular than the last. Though she had immortalized all of them later, carefully, in her journals, she knew deep down that this was not something that she would readily forget-- not until her soul was lifted far from this plane of existence and perhaps even then she would still recall the way he shivered under her touch when her hand wound itself in his curls, the way he liked to trace just the outline of her jaw with the pad of his thumb. The first time he had kissed her there had been apologies, declarations in the way he had pressed his lips to hers. Oh, there had been volumes . She had felt the depth of his feelings for her in the way he had trembled, slightly, but kissed her anyway.

Their second kiss had been her response to his question: did she really have feelings for him? Beneath his query there had been a dam of insecurity, like he was preparing himself for her to refuse him. She didn’t. She kissed him ��yes , yes , and yes . She suspected that it had surprised him just how much she could feel for him-- that this endlessly-infuriating, ever-present figure of her youth could become someone that she would want to press her lips to and who could make her heart race beneath delicately woven skin. He had quite readily responded back to her, without spoken words, that the two of them would embark on this adventure together, interwoven.

The third kiss had been a joyful goodbye, but a goodbye nonetheless, and beneath every goodbye, no matter the circumstance, hung some amount of nostalgia. She had waved him away with a smile without knowing that the next few months would serve only to prove that time was both fluctuating and static, finite and eternal. They had spoken --- but his letters had sustained her only to the point that one glass of water could quench the thirst of a dying man and not save him. She had never missed someone so desperately before.

And thus, kiss number four had been a rediscovery of a dizzying kind. He had kissed her top lip and then the bottom one, his own impossibly soft, and then he had been so bold as to let his mouth open to her, and she had felt a burning for him in that moment that had spread from her skin to her very core. Even her journal would not know the depth of her desire after their kiss-- but her cheeks had been pink for the rest of the night as she remembered how his tongue had traced her own and how his fingers had whispered delicately over the soft skin of her neck to wind themselves in her hair. She suspected he had been equally affected --- she would never forget the hum that had vibrated in the back of his throat as she had kissed him back, nor how dark his eyes had been under the lamplight, how flushed his cheeks. It had never occurred to her that anyone could be hungry for her, not in that way, but that night he had kissed her with the careful pressure of a man holding himself in check. As if he had known that if he had pressed a little closer, kissed her a little deeper, they would have wandered into scandalous territory-- walked through fire -- together.

Number five had been soft, delicate. The rapidly-growing Delphine had been plagued with illness-- a kind of sickness that had scared her father and Gilbert, and they had sent for a doctor in the dead of night, leaving Anne with the baby. But the men had been overcautious and while they had been away, Anne had watched the fever break and soothed the small thing into a heavy sleep. Upon returning with the doctor, they had seen both Anne and Delphine asleep in the rocking chair, fireside, swathed in blankets and glowing softly with warmth. Anne had awoken to the delicate caress of her cheek and had opened her eyes to see kind, brown ones looking back at her with impossible tenderness.

“Anne.” He had whispered. “It’s time to go to bed.”

For a moment, whilst still heavy with the tendrils of dreams, she had forgotten that this baby she held tightly against her bosom was not of their own flesh. But for a brief second, she had seen through the confines of time and felt the delicate intimacy of a future domesticity-- one in which the good-hearted boy with the soft brown eyes had given her the ultimate gift -- a family of her own, at last. After that he had led her up the stairs to his bedroom and had pulled her in for a kiss so light, so sweet that she could taste their future. Beneath every press of his lips she felt hundreds, thousands more. Then he had left for the couch and she had succumbed back to sleep, entourned by blankets that smelled like him.

And now this, their sixth, felt like all of them. She was tender, she was hungry. She was discovering him and she was joyful and she was so desperately, completely, ardently in love. She had known it, surely, before. But she had known it on a level so superficial that it was not true yet, not really. This was not a marble sunburst, this was no marble hall and there was no shining knight riding down. This was Gilbert. This was Anne. This was their love in all of its youth and unpredictability.

So she told him. The cold wind aided her words as they took them from her lips and blew them into his heart. She hardly registered that she had not spoken them to him yet, only that her heart would have exploded had she held them in for one second longer. “I love you, Gilbert Blythe.”

He pulled apart, only slightly, to look her in the eye-- perhaps to see if she was serious. Oh , his scrunched, confused expression was so familiar to her now, but this time she would not fade away from it. She would let her eyes overflow with the love that coursed through her and then maybe, finally, he would believe that he deserved her. Whatever he had been searching for, he found it there and she watched a smile begin slowly in the corner of his mouth until it was a sunstorm. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She could count the freckles on his skin.

He kissed her again. Seven .

“Marry me.” He whispered between presses of his lips that felt like forever.

She kissed him back. Yes and yes and yes . She was sure that they cut an impressive and poetic figure, the only two beings in color and love upon a never-ending horizon of white.

#shirbert #awae fic #gilbert blythe #anne shirley #awae #anne with an e #shirbert fic #I just love winter and I love them sue me if u wanna but I will NOT repent lolololol #this is literally so soft why did I write this

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toddysdiaries · 5 years

Text

Family Ties - Jeff Wittek x Reader

((GIF IS NOT MINE))

Pairing: Jeff Wittek x Reader, Toddy Smith x sister!Reader

Requested?: yes, by anon:

‘Being toddy’s sister and intressed in Jeff but you are both to scared!!’

Summary: You’re Toddy’s sister and you and Jeff are in love with each other, but Toddy’s protectiveness leaves the pair of you unable to be together.

Words: 2,707

Warnings: angst, couple of swears, mention of previous domestic violence (mostly mental rather than physical), Toddy being a bit of an asshole

A/N: Requests are open! I am definitely willing to write a part two for this, let me know if you want it!

Being Toddy’s sister had always been hard. In high school, you were always expected to live up to Toddy, who was sporty and funny, but in reality, you were neither. Teachers prejudged you, thinking you’d mess around like Toddy did and underestimating your academic abilities. Girls would laugh at you, wondering how someone like you came from the same parents that created someone as gorgeous as Toddy.

Toddy had also been the cause of your singleness throughout high school. Any guy that dared to get beat you ended up being chased away by him. In the end, you learnt to be sneaky about your dates, getting your friends to cover with fake study sessions and making out under the bleachers and away from your brother's watchful eyes.

If you were being honest, you were glad when Toddy moved away. Even though he was only an hour away in Los Angeles, you finally had the space to breathe and grow. You died your hair and got the nose piercing you always want, and you spent more time at the beach, flirting with topless guys and tanning.

Eventually, you settled into a long-term relationship, and it wasn’t for a few months that you saw your boyfriend for who he really was. At first glance, Jacob seemed like a sweet, charming man, but in reality, he was a controlling, manipulative man-child, who never let you do anything on your own or go anywhere without knowing where you were going. That was when you realised that Toddy was nothing but protective of you.

Your relationship culminated in a fight when you had genuinely been scared for your life. Jacob had thrown glasses, plates and anything that he could get his hands on at you. When he'd pushed you up against the wall, you'd managed to push him off of you, and you ran out the house, managing to grab your keys from the bowl next to the door and drove away and didn't stop driving until you reached your parent's house.

Since it was the first time that it had been this bad you weren't willing to call the police, you just wanted out of Huntington Beach. Your father had called Toddy, while your mother comforted you. You were shaking like a leaf, just glad that you hadn't moved in with your boyfriend - ex-boyfriend - and he'd never shown any interest in meeting your family.

"You're going to go and stay with Toddy for a while." Your father came back into the room and knelt down in front of you. "You've got some things here, take them with you. I'm going to wait a few days and then take everything from your apartment up to you. We're going to leave now." You nodded, still shaking like a leaf. Luckily you worked for an online gossip website, so you usually worked from home anyway.

You had only just managed to calm down when your dad pulled up to a house that Toddy definitely didn't own. "It's his friend's house, you're going to meet them all anyway. He's filming today, I didn't think it was right to tell him over the phone, you know he'd just work himself up over it."

That was definitely true, but you didn't want to have to watch Toddy blow up in front of you after Jacob had. "Can-can you tell him? Maybe without me there?"

Your dad held your hand. "Of course, sweetheart. Of course, Toddy is going to be upset, you're his little sister." You nodded, Toddy had always been very protective of you. "He'd never hurt you, you know that."

You followed behind your dad like a lost puppy, surprised at the house that you were seeing. You looked up as the door opened, a gorgeous bearded man opened the door. "Oh, you must be Toddy's dad and sister." He grinned at you, and you felt your inside's turn to goo and then promptly scolded yourself, you'd just gotten out of a shitty relationship, and this guy was one of Toddy's friends, there's no chance he would ever let you date him. "Come on in."

The good looking guy led you through the lavish house, that shocked you a little more the further in you got. Eventually, you came to a living room and was a little shocked at how many people there were.

"Todd, your dad and sister are here." The good looking guy threw himself down on the couch and Todd came in from the kitchen.

"Dad! Y/N!" Todd ran over to the pair of you. "What's going on, why do you need to stay with me, Y/N?"

Your dad cleared his throat. "I need to talk to you in private Todd."

"Take him to the podcast room." A younger man with messy brown hair told him.

Toddy nodded. "Okay, guys this is Y/N, make her welcome while I go talk to my dad!"

Two girls wandered straight up to you, one was short with bleached blonde hair, and the other was much taller with brown, dip-dyed hair. "I'm Carly, and this is Erin."

"It's nice to meet you guys." You weren't sure that you were going to fit in very well with these people, they all seemed to have big personalities, and you'd never stood out very well.

"Come sit with us!" Erin smiled and held her hand out to you. You tentatively took it and followed the girls over to the couches. "These guys are Zane and Matt." Erin and Carly introduced you to all the people that were in the living room, you felt a little overwhelmed, you had never really had that many friends before.

"So, what are you doing in Los Angeles?" Jeff, the attractive guy that had answered the door, asked you, a slight glint in his eyes.

You hesitated, you were sure that it would all come out at some point, Toddy would probably start yelling about it any second. "Nasty break-up." You settled for, it was kind of true anyway.

Jeff's eyes seemed to glint again at the thought of you being single. He opened his mouth to ask you something else when Todd came storming in.

"Tell me the piece of shit's name, tell me where he lives. I'm gonna beat the shit out of him Y/N, I swear to god!" Toddy leant down in front of you, his voice raised, you flinched back against the couch, slightly.

"Todd!" Your dad had come in behind Todd. "I told you not to raise your voice, you're going to scare the shit out of her."

A small hand slipped into yours, and you knew without turning that it was Carly. "Todd if you go looking for him, he will find me. You have to let it go. I just want to move on." Your voice was quiet and shaky, but it was very much audible over the silence of the room.

"He hurt you, Y/N! You can't just let him get away with it!" Todd yelled. Jeff and David, who you learnt owned the house you were in, jumped up and gripped one of Toddy's shoulders each.

"You're scaring her man." Jeff's Staten Island accent rang out.

Toddy scoffed. "I'm not gonna hurt her, him on the other hand..."

"Dude, she's just had a man yelling at her, she doesn't need another right now." David's soft voice spoke.

Toddy hesitated and looked at you, noticing how you were shaking, your hand's grasped between Carly and Erin's, your dad's hand rubbing your shoulder. "Fuck..." Todd dropped to his knees in front of you, gently resting his hands on your knees. "I'm sorry, Y/N/N, you know how much I love you, I've always tried to keep asshole guys away from you."

You chuckled. "I noticed Toddy, you're the reason I didn't have a proper boyfriend until I was 19."

"They were all assholes!" Toddy insisted.

"I wish you were there to warn me off of this one." You frowned deeply.

Toddy nodded sadly. "Would you have listened though?"

Your dad chuckled from behind, and you let out a small chuckle too. "Probably not."

Over the past month, you had gotten to know all of the 'vlog squad', as you learnt that they were known as. You were particularly close with Carly, Erin and Zane. Your interest in Jeff had also blossomed into full-on feelings, but you were well aware that Toddy would never let you date a former convict, something that Jeff was never able to forget around the 'vlog squad' who often joked about his time in jail.

You were well aware that Jeff also had feelings for you, but he had yet to speak to you about them. You hoped that he wouldn't ever bring his feelings up, because it would make things awkward when you told him that although you liked him, you could never be with him.

Toddy had become your overprotective older brother once more. If you went out clubbing or to a party with the rest of the vlog squad, Toddy was watching you the whole time, not even drinking to make sure that he could keep a proper eye on you. You were starting to feel overwhelmed with how closely Toddy watched you, but you were nowhere near ready enough to go back to Huntington Beach, in fact, you were thinking about cancelling your apartment lease and going apartment hunting in L.A.

One day you had just had enough. You had made a new friend at your yoga class, and Toddy didn't want you spending any time with her alone. "Toddy, you need to start giving me room to breathe!" You snapped. "You're acting ridiculously!"

"I'm just trying to protect you, Y/N!" Todd's arms flailed around as he tried to make his point.

"I can protect myself, Toddy!" You screamed back. By this point, you had attracted the attention of the rest of the vlog squad.

Toddy scoffed loudly, letting his flailing hands slap down on his thighs. "You clearly can't make those choices yourself if you ended up with Jacob!"

The room was suddenly loud with collective gasping, the group was in shock that Toddy had actually gone there. Your hand reacted without permission from your head, and you slapped your brother across the face, hard. Toddy's hand flew to the reddened flesh of his cheek, his lips parting in surprise.

"You hit me," Todd mumbled, fingers gently stroking his cheek in disbelief.

You scoffed. "You deserved it, you're a disgusting excuse for a brother, picking on the one thing that you know will break my heart." You collected your belongings together. "Can someone give me a ride back to Huntington Beach?"

A few people immediately said they'd drive you back, but you took up David's offer, thinking he could use the opportunity to get some footage, Jeff trailing after you.

"Y/N, I know you're mad at me, but you can't just go back home, Jacob might find you!" Todd tried to follow you out, but Zane and Scotty had grabbed a shoulder each and held him back.

You practically growled. "It's been a month Toddy, I doubt he's still looking for me, I'll have David and Jeff with me anyway."

If you had been more angry and less clear-headed, then you might have gone much farther and slept with Jeff, just to spite your brother. But that would have really annoyed Toddy, plus you'd be using Jeff and hurting the pair of you.

Much of your car ride back to Huntington Beach was spent in a reasonably comfortable silence until you broke it. "I'm not moving back, I just want to start sorting out what's left in my apartment and cancel out of my apartment lease with my landlord."

You could hear Jeff let out a sigh of relief in the back of the car.

"Are you going to look for an apartment in L.A.?" David piped up next to you, turning the radio down slightly.

"Yeah, most of my stuff is already in Toddy and Jason's house. It's just some kitchen and bathroom stuff that's left, plus the furniture, I'm going to put it in my parent's garage for the time being. But I need a new bed anyway so that can just go down the dump." You shrugged. "I might get new couches too, I'm not sure yet."

David laughed. "We're not going to get everything in my Tesla."

You scoffed. "My dad has a van we can borrow to move the furniture, we'll just load the stuff I'm taking back to L.A. in your Tesla."

Going through everything that was left in your apartment didn't take as long as you thought it would and by the time evening came you were ready to go back to L.A. with the majority of your possessions. You had gifted your couches to a work friend and had taken your bed to the dump, as well as a lot of random things that you'd forgotten you had or had no use for.

You had spoken to your landlord and cancelled your lease while David and Jeff loaded the Tesla with what you were taking back to L.A. When you went back to your apartment you noticed that all of your boxes had been taken downstairs. You were about to lock the door and take the keys to your landlord when you were stopped by David.

"I really need to pee," David whined, making grabby hands for your keys. "I'll lock up after and drop your keys off."

You handed him the keys and yelled after him, amused as he ran into your apartment. "There's no soap in there!" You said a quick goodbye to your apartment and then went down to wait in the Tesla.

"David caught you then?" Jeff's Staten Island accent met your ears as you got into the car.

Nodding, you dropped your bag in the footwell and did up your seatbelt. "Just about."

There was a slight pause, and then Jeff spoke again. "Y/N, I need to talk to you about something."

You froze, crap, he was going to do it right now. "No, you don't Jeff. Somethings are better off left unsaid." You told him firmly.

"No, I need to tell you." Jeff insisted, leaning forward between the gap in the two front seats.

"Jeff, it'll change everything." You whispered, eyes flickering over Jeff's beautiful face. "You know this can't happen, we can't happen."

Jeff's face dropped. "But why?"

Shaking your head, you scoffed. "Because of Toddy. He's way too overprotective, I know you're his friend, but there is still no way he'd ever give his blessing on me dating you."

"He doesn't have to, Y/N!" Jeff protested, hand coming out to cup your cheek.

"He does, Jeff. Because then you'd stop being friends with him and everyone else because of it and I'd fall out with my brother." You let out a deep breath. "Neither of us wants that, Jeff."

Jeff seemed defeated and frowned deeply. "But you do like me, right? This isn't just one-sided?"

A stray tear dripped down your cheek, and you made no move to wipe it away. "Of course I like you. I like you more than I've ever liked anyone before. It sucks so much." You sniffed slightly. "And what sucks, even more, is that it's going to change our relationship now."

Shaking his head, Jeff carefully wiped your tears away. "It'll never change our relationship."

"You promise?" You whispered.

Jeff nodded adamantly. "I promise." Jeff paused slightly. "Could I kiss you, just once?"

You hesitated. In one way it might feel like closure, another way you could end up falling for him even more. You said to hell with it and leant forward, gently capturing Jeff's lips in a sweet kiss. It seemed like it was over no quicker than it started, Jeff pulling away with a final peck to your lips and leaning back into his seat.

David came back at that moment. "Sorry, I got lost." He explained sheepishly. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah." You agreed softly.

David frowned and turned to look at you and then Jeff. "Are you guys okay?"

"We'll be fine," Jeff commented from the backseat. And you would.

#vlog squad imagine #vlog squad #jeff wittek x reader #jeff wittek imagine #jeff wittek #toddy smith x reader #toddy smith imagine #toddy smith

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tonystarkbingo · 4 years

Photo

TSB Week 5 Roundup! First, our badge earners for this past week!

Participation badges went out to:

Nasha Turtlesse mitochondrials Nata

ALL OF WHOM PUT THEIR CARD NUMBERS IN THEIR BADGE CLAIM FORM! *Wild applause* Congratulations to the four of you! Remember, if you’ve earned a badge, you’ve gotta go claim it here!

And now, on to our fills for this past week!

Title: let the soft animal of your body love what it loves - Chapter 6: vi. Collaborator: deathsweetqueen Link: AO3 Square Filled: R4 - presumed dead Ship: Stony Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Time Travel, Endgame Steve goes back in time to be with Post AOU Tony, Explicit Sexual Content, Dirty Talk, Past Domestic Violence, Post AOU AU, Breaking Up and Making Up, Marriage Counselling, Superfamily, Team Iron Man, but not Steve unfriendly, he's just a moron, a lot of fighting and arguments, Dubious Consent due to Identity Issues Summary: In 2023, Steve Rogers, after burning his husband's body, goes through the timelines to return each of the Infinity Stones. In 2015, Tony Stark’s husband returns to him and for the first time in years, he has hope for his marriage. Word Count: 31,106

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Title: let the soft animal of your body love what it loves - Chapter 7: vii. Collaborator: deathsweetqueen Link: AO3 Square Filled: K1 - PTSD Ship: Stony Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Time Travel, Endgame Steve goes back in time to be with Post AOU Tony, Explicit Sexual Content, Dirty Talk, Past Domestic Violence, Post AOU AU, Breaking Up and Making Up, Marriage Counselling, Superfamily, Team Iron Man, but not Steve unfriendly, he's just a moron, a lot of fighting and arguments, Dubious Consent due to Identity Issues Summary: In 2023, Steve Rogers, after burning his husband's body, goes through the timelines to return each of the Infinity Stones. In 2015, Tony Stark’s husband returns to him and for the first time in years, he has hope for his marriage. Word Count: 31,106

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Title: R U My Type? Collaborator: Politzania Link: AO3 Square Filled: A2 - writing format: drabble Ship: WinterIron Rating: Gen Major Tags: Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Drabble, Vampire!Bucky Summary: Bucky sweet-talks Tony with a sweet treat. Word Count: 100

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Title: Leaving the Nest Collaborator: tisfan, 27dragons, monobuu Link: AO3 Square Filled: K5 - Dragon (tisfan) Adopted - Dragon Rider (27dragons) S3 - Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow (monobuu) Ship: WinterIron Rating: Teen Major Tags: None Summary: Tony’s spent his whole life training to be a dragon rider. That the dragon who’s chosen him is betrothed is only of minor concern; having to marry his dragon’s mate’s rider is well worth getting to fly. That is, until Tony falls in love with a common soldier and is faced with having to choose between his dream and his love. Word Count: 10,433

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Title: Dating Games Collaborator: alwaysabrighterdarkness Link: AO3 Square Filled: T3 - [Image Square] Iron Patriot Ship: Stony Rating: Teen Major Tags: None Summary: “Dude, Tony. You gotta stop telling everyone that you’re dating Captain America. It’s not even funny anymore. It’s just…awkward. I’m not sure if it’s gonna be Sam or Steve that throws the first punch at some nosey ass reporter asking about your dirty love triangle.” Word Count: 1676

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Title: N/A (Moodboard) Collaborator: alwaysabrighterdarkness Link: Tumblr Square Filled: A3 - Free Ship: N/A Rating: Gen Major Tags: None Summary: Tony Stark Moodboard Word Count: N/A

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Title: An Impromptu Collegial Collaboration Collaborator: politzania Link: AO3 Square Filled: K2 - AU: Teachers Ship: Pepperony Rating: Gen Major Tags: None Summary: Taking a detour from her planned career to teach at a school for disadvantaged youth, Virginia “Pepper” Potts discovers a potential for romance. Word Count: 1487

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Title: Self Discovery Collaborator: alexisriversong Link: AO3 Square Filled: A5 - Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier Ship: Stucky Rating: Gen Major Tags: None Summary: After a journey of self discovery, Bucky and Steve meet again. Word Count: 1809

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Title: Metal arm bros and the captain Collaborator: alexisriversong Link: AO3 Square Filled: R2 - Metal Arms Bros Ship: Stuckony Rating: Teen Major Tags: None Summary: Tony lost his arm in the battle but extremis saved him making him a supersoldier. Word Count: 950

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Title: Security Check Collaborator: HogwartsToAlexandria Link: AO3 Square Filled: K2 - Nerds Ship: Happy/Tony Rating: Mature Major Tags: Sexual Content, Frottage Summary: Happy is concerned about Hogwarts' security systems and regulations. Word Count: 1379

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Title: Reach the zone (don’t drop the ball) Collaborator: HogwartsToAlexandria Link: AO3 Square Filled: Adopted - Kink: Breathplay Ship: Wongrange Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Dom/Sub Summary: Wong and Stephen Strange were living the perfect white picket fence life. They had two children, both boys, with a manageable five-year difference between them. They were on the chair of their sons' school along with other parents, participated in bake sales and never missed a soccer practice or game. They were the picture of domestic bliss and none of it was faked, there was simply more to their marriage than really met the eye of their well-meaning neighbors. Word Count: 6095

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Title: Flesh-wound Collaborator: feyrelay Link: Pillowfort Square Filled: S2 - Zombie Ship: Starker or IronDad Rating: Mature Major Tags: Canon Character Death Summary: Peter Parker is a man of science, one who knows the ravages of decomp. So when he sees dead people, he sees precisely what he expects to see. It doesn't mean he's ready to face Zombie Iron Man, though. Not again. Word Count: Moodboard

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Title: N/A Collaborator: monobuu Link: Tumblr Square Filled: S4 - MIT Years Ship: WinterIron Rating: Gen Major Tags: None Summary: Tony and Bucky having a coffee date after classes! Word Count: N/A [Art]

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Title: Calm after the storm Collaborator: alexisriversong Link: AO3 Square Filled: K4 - Tony Stark / Bucky Barnes Ship: WinterIron Rating: Mature Major Tags: getting together Summary: Bucky had a pretty rough life, will his newfound love for Disney movies and bad puns help him find his safe place? Word Count: 1290

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Title: A Rose for You, My Dear Collaborator: cami-chats Link: AO3 Square Filled: T1 - New Team Ship: Tony/Gamora Rating: Mature Major Tags: Near death experience, Life threatening illness (Hanahaki) Summary: Tony catches Hanahaki Disease when he’s traveling with the Guardians, there’s just one (main) problem with that: it’s a human disease and not many humans in this corner of the universe. He takes a reluctant trip back to Midgard, knowing that he won’t be leaving again, and he doesn’t know how to tell Gamora or the other Guardians that. Word Count: 10,369

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Title: The Iron Cardinal Collaborator: dracusfyre Link: AO3 Square Filled: R2 - Pining Ship: Stony Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Internalized homophobia, explicit sexual content Summary: Steve, as a Knight of Solomon’s Temple, considers himself a pious man of God. Antoine Stark, on the other hand, despite his position as the Cardinal of Paris, is the most impious man Steve has ever met, to Steve’s eternal irritation. But when Steve’s carefully ordered life as a Templar comes crashing down and his brother in arms Bucky vanishes, he is forced to turn to Cardinal Stark for help. To his surprise, he slowly learns that there is much more to Stark than he realized; to his dismay, he also learns that the plot against the Templars is more insidious than he imagined, and that the fate of the world may lie in them finding Bucky in time. Word Count: 17,540

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Title: N/A Collaborator: Monobuu Link: Tumblr Square Filled: R1 - Deaging (Any) Ship: Tony & Bucky Rating: Gen Major Tags: None Summary: Tony gets de-aged and the most pressing issue immediately changes from ‘Where did that sorcerer go!?’ to ‘we have a serious lack of dinosaur books, Mr. Buck.’ Word Count: N/A [Art]

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Title: Fur-eign Aid Collaborator: celtic7irish Link: AO3 Square Filled: A5 - Wolf Ship: James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Pepper Potts & Morgan Stark Rating: Gen Major Tags: Post-Endgame, Not a Fix-It (yet) Summary: During a battle between the Avengers and MODOK and his pack of wolves, help arrives from an unexpected quarter. Word Count: 2524

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Title: Nordic Brew - Chapter 2 Collaborator: tinydragontony Link: AO3 Square Filled: R5 - Loki Laufeyson Ship: FrostIron Rating: Mature Major Tags: None Summary: Loki hadn’t expected his spell to work as well as it had. Heimdall couldn’t see him, and neither could Odin, a fact he very much exploited to his full advantage. Now, a year into his escapades throughout the Nine, Loki has formed a fast bond with Midgardian Tony Stark over the counter of The Nordic Brew, and that bond is stronger than any he has forged before. And perhaps, in the face of persistent trials and tribulations, their relationship can develop into something more. Word Count: 6782

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Title: Fishnets and Stagelights Collaborator: ashes0909 Link: AO3 Square Filled: A5 - KINK: Crossdressing Ship: WinterIron Rating: Explicit Major Tags: explicit sexual content, Mission Gone Awry, Fishnets, Burlesque, POV Alternating Summary: Tony had known Bucky Barnes was an attractive man. He had eyes. But the fact that he would go up on stage, undressed to the nines, wrapped in fishnets and confidence growing with every hoot and holler from the audience - Well, now, Tony wanted him. Word Count: 2322

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Title: No Cat Left Behind Collaborator: Turtlesse Link: AO3 Square Filled: T3 - Natasha Romanov / The Black Widow Ship: WinterIron Rating: Teen Major Tags: none Summary: “No.” “Please?” “No. “…” “Stop it. We’ve agreed your puppy dog eyes are against the Geneva convention.” “Tony, please. He reminds me of home.” Bucky didn’t even blink. It was so unfair. “Fuck it” Tony muttered and massaged his temple. No way was he letting that thing stay. No, no, no. Just, no. “Fine. But you owe me all the blowjobs.” Word Count: 2073

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Title: DUM-E's Drawings - Chapter 9: TON-E's Valentine 2: Iron Man is Red Collaborator: lbibliophile-mcu Link: Tumblr Square Filled: A2 - Cliché Ship: Tony & the bots Rating: Gen Major Tags: art Summary: Valentine’s Day again, and DUM-E talks U into helping with TON-E’s card.

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Title: If Only the Green Grass Knows Collaborator: dixiehellcat Link: AO3 Square Filled: S5 - AU: fantasy world Ship: Clint/Sam Rating: Gen Major Tags: AU—Fae, First Meetings, Bullying, Magic Summary: A foundling raised by two fae warriors, little Anthony is shunned for preferring human gadgets to weapons and magic. He finally finds a group of friends, who take up the challenge of helping him unearth the mystery of his origins. Word Count: 3576

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Title: Golf Gang Collaborator: abitnotgoodiebag Link: Tumblr Square Filled: S3 - Retirement Ship: Tony Stark & Morgan Stark Rating: Gen Major Tags: None Summary: Because someone else snapped thanos away, tony is able to be a man of leisure and decides that Morgan is gonna be a golf superstar. Word Count: N/A [Art]

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Title: Golden Hour Collaborator: feyrelay Link: AO3 Square Filled: K2 - Peter Parker/Spiderman Ship: Starker Rating: Teen Major Tags: Age Difference, AU Summary: I think this is loads funnier if you don't know going in what it's a pastiche of. Nearly anyone born between 1985 and 2000 (or their moms) will recognize it. Also, don't mind the slight Darcy-bash, it's one line and unsubstantiated.CNTW = Peter is seventeen but nothing happens. Word Count: 2191

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Title: kiss me, kiss me, kiss me Collaborator: only_more_love Link: AO3 Square Filled: K5 - Writing Format: Past Tense Ship: Stony Rating: Mature Major Tags: None Summary: Tony wakes after spending his first night with Steve. Word Count: 1490

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Title: Take from me My Lace Collaborator: tisfan Link: Tumblr Square Filled: A1 - Kink: Armor Kink Ship: WinterIron Rating: Explicit Major Tags: None Summary: “The next villain that interrupts date night is not going to prison, they’re going straight to the funeral home.” Word Count: 1020

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Title: Empty Forest Syndrome Collaborator: feyrelay Link: AO3 Square Filled: S5 - Whiplash Ship: Starker, Peter Parker & Natasha Romanoff Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Age Difference, Suicidal Thoughts Summary: Pepper did say he could have anything of Tony's, now that he was gone. Anything.CNTW = ghostfic, half the pairing is canonically dead. Word Count: 3417

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Title: Resolution (”STEVE!”) Collaborator: turtlesse Link: AO3 Square Filled: T5 - Resolve Ship: Steve Rogers & James "Bucky" Barnes, Tony Stark & Steve Rogers Rating: Teen Major Tags: None Summary: Bucky knew Steve was watching him from the kitchen door. He didn’t care, though; the punk could get his shit together and talk to him if he really wanted to.Also known as, Steve can't help but butt his head into other people's business. He has good intentions, though. Word Count: 1619

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Title: Along The Shore Collaborator: Link: AO3 Square Filled: T5 - Writing Format: Drabble Ship: none Rating: Teen Major Tags: drabble, mentions of murder Summary: Drabble: Tony Stark and his house along the shore... Word Count: 100

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Title: Fly Away With Me Collaborator: Trashcanakin Link: Tumblr Square Filled: T4 - Flight Ship: 616 IronHawk Rating: Gen Major Tags: moodboard Summary: [Moodboard + Edit] Demon/Angel "Forbidden Love" AU

#tonystarkbingo2020 #tsb2020 #weekly roundup #week 5 #tsb week 5 roundup #bage earners

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devilsknotrp · 5 years

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Congratulations, M! You have been accepted for the role of Sandy Silverman (FC:Nicole Kidman). As Mandy’s player, I was understandably anxious to find a player who could articulate the muddy depths of Sandy Silverman... I shouldn’t have even worried. Your application is absolutely incredible. Your writing sample alone made us both so excited, because something as simple as ringing the hotline for Brian is loaded with meaning and intent. We have to spotlight your headcanons. Fleshing out her backstory allowed us to see how much has happened to Sandy. The glimpses of Phillip (putting out a cigarette in his food: oh, God) were painful reminders of how complex domestic power structures can be. You have given Sandy such life. It will be truly wonderful to see her develop in game. Please have a look at this page prior to sending in your account.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Name: M Age: 24 Pronouns: She/her Timezone: GMT-5 Activity estimation: I have a full time job and other commitments but I’ll try to reply a couple times a week! Triggers: REDACTED

IN CHARACTER

Full name: Sandra Kathleen Silverman, née Moore Age (DD/MM/YYYY): Fifty five (08/04/41) – Leo Gender: Cisgender woman Pronouns: She/her Sexuality: Lesbian (closeted, even to herself) Occupation: Real Estate Agent, Great Lake Homes Connection to Victim: Sandy sold Linda the home in which the Goode family currently resides. She also sees Linda from time to time at PTA meetings – when Sandy manages to show up, that is – since they both have children in high school. And since Brian’s disappearance bears a resemblance to Pete’s disappearance years ago, Sandy feels an unusual connection with Linda. Alibi: Sandy reluctantly took Pete shopping in the morning, and dropped him off at home afterwards. She headed to the office to grab a few papers for a client and spent the afternoon preparing a house for its viewing scheduled for the following day. Faceclaim: Nicole Kidman

WRITING SAMPLE

The line rang three times before someone picked up. “You’ve reached the Brian Goode tip-line,” a man said, voice crackling through the phone line like crumpled paper. The voice was monotone. Sandy had clearly not been the first person to call this morning. She hitched her shoulder up, using the bony part at the top to press the receiver against her ear so she could take a sip from her coffee mug. A Michigan Nip, of course.

“Hi, good morning, I’ve been meaning to call you,” she said. One week had passed and Brian Goode was still a ghost.

Sandy’s eyes were focused on the phone keypad. If she looked hard enough, she’d swear that some of the numbers had been worn down just a bit more than the rest. All those calls, back and forth, twelve years ago. She practically had the department’s number memorized at this point. “It’s just terrible, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but we’re doing the best we can right now, ma’am,” the man said, and Sandy couldn’t contain the snort of laughter that came flying out. She was standing in very spot where she’d learned that her son was alive, and that her husband was dead. She’d never felt that the Devil’s Knot Police Department had done their best at just about anything. “Do you have any information to report?” he asked.

“Oh, yes, certainly. I was just calling to ask about the case, though. Do you have any leads yet?” Sandy asked the question matter-of-factly, and took another sip. After how long it had taken Charlie Taylor to botch everything last time, she figured the department owed her some goddamned information.

There was a pause. “Ma’am, this is a tip line,” he said. The pitch of his voice rose at the end like he wasn’t sure if he should be asking or telling.

“I know,” Sandy said. “I thought the main line would be busy, and maybe I could get some information from you instead.” She heard shuffling behind her and turned over her shoulder to make eye contact with her son. “Just tell the Sheriff that it’s Sandy, he’ll understand,” she said, eyebrows raised, and shooed Peter away with a quick wave of her hand. The last thing she needed was for him to get re-traumatized, or whatever Dr. Shah had called it. She’d written some psychology buzzwords down a few years ago in case Sandy ever wanted to go to the public library and check a book out. In all likelihood, the piece of paper had gone through the wash in one of her pants pockets and disappeared entirely.

There was another pause. Longer this time. He gave a sigh that crackled in her ear. “Mrs. Silverman, I – “

“Officer, come on,” Sandy interrupted, “Don’t you know what happened to my family?” Of course he did. Everyone did.

“Yes, and I’m very sorry, but it’s ongoing investigation. If you have any information that you think could be helpful, please let us know.”

Twelve years later and apparently the department hadn’t gotten any better since Charlie Taylor resigned in disgrace. Sandy tipped the mug back and took a large gulp. The splash of whisky burned in her throat. “Let’s just hope you’re doing a better job this time around.” She looked down at her empty mug. The spiral cord trailed behind her as she took a few steps toward the counter to put it in the sink. “It didn’t take you a week to find my son in ’84. Do your fucking job. Good day,” Sandy said, and hung up.

ANYTHING ELSE?

Here is my Pinterest board for Sandy!

Sandy grew up in a very traditional family. Her father was a physician, her mother a homemaker. She watched from a young age how the men in her life took up space; how they showed cruelty in the way they spoke loudly, making rules that only they were allowed to break. Irene, Sandy’s mother, taught her how to make herself pretty and small, so boys would like her. Her older brother was the pride of the family; all chiseled jaw and boyish charm, just handsome enough to get away with anything. The pedestal he lived on was so high she could barely see the bottom of it. She was just a girl, raised in chains, her parent’s Little Darling, unobtrusive and accommodating. Never enough, because she was never allowed to be. This disconnect deepened as she grew older – but if her parents wanted her to be a young lady, Sandy would be the best young lady in all of Indiana. She’d perform perfectly.

She was always good at getting people to like her. In high school, all it took was becoming cheer captain and giving out blowjobs after school in the parking lot. She was a good girl. Sloppy Sandy, they called her. It didn’t matter. They all cheered when she became prom queen, anyway. She went on to study sculpture at Moore College of Art and Design, and told the other girls that her family had been the one to give the school its name. Just to see their faces light up. Sculpting gave her permission, for once in her life, to stick her hands in the mud. When her mother referred to sculpture as a fine hobby, Sandy knew it was code for a pit stop on your way to marriage.

Phillip and Sandy met on a blind date. Irene introduced the idea during one of their mother-daughter dates at the beauty parlor. She waited until Sandy’s fingers were in the manicurist’s hands to inform her that Phillip Silverman would be picking her up that evening. Seven o’clock, sharp. Good genes, she said. Handsome. His mother had been crowned Miss Indiana in ‘22, after all. Irene had just been runner-up. Sandy agreed, of course, because she had to.

The following year, they were married. Phillip was a kind man, and everyone loved him, so Sandy did too. The word wife felt funny in her mouth when she said it out loud, so she put on an apron and shopped at Macy’s and picked up pilates. If she shaped herself into Woman incarnate, it made it all better, somehow. When she gave birth at twenty-five, the post-partum depression swallowed her whole. It left the dishes unwashed, diapers unchanged, and to-do list unchecked. She spent more time in bed than her infant daughter did. Phillip learned to bring the baby to their bedroom to breastfeed. More often than not, when she cradled their daughter in her arms, Sandy would start to cry. Bad mother, bad bad bad, she thought. Phillip seemed to think so too. It didn’t take long for the GP to write her a prescription for Valium. It helped. She started drinking more, and that helped too.

As Amanda grew, Sandy drank. Post post-partum depression, maybe. She didn’t have an excuse then; she just gave up. Sandy tried to fashion her daughter into a reflection of herself – dressing her in pink, putting her in cheerleading, teaching her to smile – but the connection felt irreparable. Thankfully, Phillip took over the bulk of the parental duties. He never let her forget it. At least the resentment was mutual; at family dinner, Sandy put her cigarettes out in Phillip’s food to let him know he’d eaten enough. No one was going to be fat in her family. Another child was out of the question, but sometimes, when Sandy was drunk, she forgot to take her birth control. The post-partum depression knocked her on her feet so badly the second time around that she got her tubes tied. After the procedure, she drove down to the beauty parlor for a manicure.

Sandy remembers very little of the two days her husband and son were missing. The panic was paralyzing. She was drunk when she got the call that Peter had been found; she drove to the hospital and took out two bushes in the parking lot with Mandy in the passenger seat. Her boy was alive! Later, when they found Phillip, grief was quickly washed out by rage. Why had he done this to them – to her? Everyone who’d called her the bad parent could kiss her well-toned ass. And they did. For a while, at least, when the frenzy was still about the poor Silverman family. A small part of her liked the attention. Finally, someone in Devil’s Knot gave a shit about Sandy Silverman when she was sober.

The rumors were relentless. Soon enough, the town was going to swallow itself whole. One morning, their dog Bonnie turned up dead in the front yard, blood pooling on the overgrown grass. Sandy got in the car in her silk pajamas, went down to the police department, and told Charlie Taylor just how badly he was fucking the whole thing sideways. Three months was too long. When they finally arrested Max Acosta, Sandy didn’t even care if he was guilty. She was tired. They asked her to corroborate the argument between Max and Phillip. She remembered the incident in a half-hazy way, but it must’ve been Fourth of July because she’d been drinking watermelon punch. Phillip must’ve started the argument, the bonehead. I have a sense about these things, trust me.

After the trial, she set Peter up with a psychologist because God knows she wasn’t equipped to deal with that. The children still felt far away, somewhere inaccessible to her, even after all that happened. Sandy tried joining the PTA, but that required sobriety on a Wednesday night, which meant her attendance was sparse. She got a real job, finally. Sandy Silverman, Real Estate Agent, Great Lake Homes. With a card and everything. Being a salesman is like being a woman: a test of how much you can endure. All the happy wives and mothers must be lying to themselves too, right? It’s just contest to see who can keep the smile pasted on her face the longest. Well, Sandy Silverman’s a professional, and she’s good at that too. She’s the best at it. And she’ll show you!

#dkaccepted #accepted #sandy silverman #literate rp #original rp

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a-jynx · 6 years

Text

Until It Stops - Part 3: Resistor & Survivor

Summary: When big brother Jensen gets a whiff of what might be happening behind closed doors with his baby sister, Y/N Ackles, he has more than one way of making it go away until it stops.

Warnings: Angst, fluffy/protective Jensen, mentions of mental and physical abuse, mentions of alcohol, mentions of injuries, also mentions of past hospital visits, mentions of domestic violence,

Pairing: Jensen x sister!reader

F.I.T: @waywardnewcomer @iliketowrite02 @laceyn-1201 @supernatural-teamfreewillpage @i-hear-crazy-calling-my-name @casiskween @mlovesstories @sandlee44 @thoughtfulcollectormaker @riversong-sam@gh0stgurl @starlightlove @alliedimlerr @ughs-posts @emzies1 @ilovemymoose @charlottecl @dearsmileyman @annieshurley @oneshoeshort @bunnybaby121115 @kaylahp101-blog @moosekateer13 @dramione-winchester-mccall @bobasheebaby @courtney-elizabeth-winchester @bakinginhell

Note: I went over this idea a million times, and then hit up @iliketowrite02 for some help and she did amazing with coming up with ideas - so if you guys would plz go read her fics 💖 She puts so much effort into bringing good content, and I just want you all to see how amazing she is!!

Part 1 Part 2 Epilogue

This is the last part before our epilogue!! I’m so, so, happy with the response this fic has gotten - you guys are honestly too amazing! But, thank you all for the support/response and now, enjoy!!

Enjoy! Remember you are the glue to my writing!

“I swear to God if I find out Drew did something to her,”

“Right now, we need to only worry about Y/N, Jensen... Who knows what we’re about to find.” Misha commented slowly as I gulped, tightening my grip on the steering wheel before whipping my truck into the small driveway; Y/N’s car gone.

“Did she..?” I mumbled, more to myself than Misha as he furrowed his brows, opening the passenger door and sliding out; I following behind him. The truck doors shut in unison as we moved up the small pathway, her home seemed… Eery.

“She wouldn’t have left.” Misha hissed as I turned my head towards him; his eyes were already watering as I nodded. He cared for Y/N, just as much as Jared and I did. He loved her like his own little sister; or as he called her, his baby bear.

“Maybe, she’s okay? I mean, maybe it was-”

“Jensen, why would Y/N call you - breathless? And crying? There can’t be some good reason behind it.” Misha stated the anger and hurt practically fuming from him as I stopped dead in my tracks.

I turned my attention towards him as I clenched my jaw, feeling Dean try to break through as I narrowed my darkening eyes at Misha, his jaw clenched almost as tightly as my own.

“You’re acting like I’m not taking this seriously..” I slightly growled, feeling my chest swell as I turned my body fully towards him. Misha went slightly wide-eyed before shaking his head, running a hand through his dark hair before dropping his hand to his side.

“No, I’m not acting - I can clearly tell you’re not. You probably wouldn’t even care, if we walked in a found Y/N dead on the damn kitchen floor!” Misha growled as he took a step closer, as I went wide-eyed, my head switching into Dean mode.

“If you ever tell me that I don’t care about my sister, I’ll-”

“You’ll what, Jensen?! You left Y/N for a year after finding out about her giving up on acting to stay home with her girlfriend, who turns out has been abusing her for God knows how long! But guess who didn’t leave her - Jared and I. We didn’t abandon her when she told us.. Not like you did.” Misha’s voice cracked a little before his features softened; slowly showing just how bad I must’ve hurt them and Y/N..

I stood there before dropping my shoulders and feeling Dean slowly sink away before Misha began again with a small cough. Averting my eyes to the sidewalk as he brought his hand up, squeezing under his eyes before turning back to me.

“Let’s go check on our sister, okay..?”

I merely nodded before he took the lead, I following close behind as he jiggled the front doors’ knob, only for the door to open easily. Honestly, a little too easily. Turning my head towards Misha, he frowned as he went to step in only to stop a few steps in; making me frown as I rounded him.

“What?” I questioned before my eyes settled on what he was staring at.. A shattered body with a heavy scent of vodka lingering in the air, it made me feel drunk as I tried to cover my nose and mouth with my hand.

“What the hell..? Is that… Blood?” I dropped my hand as I swallowed thickly at the sight of a dark, heavy puddle that settled into the beige carpet. I snapped my head towards Misha, who looked as if he had seen a ghost..

“Jensen, I don’t like the looks of all-” Misha was cut off by a sudden groan; as if someone were in pain. Growing wide-eyed, I stood from my crouching position as Misha and I moved quickly towards the kitchen; only to stop dead in our tracks.

I wanted to throw up.. I wanted to cry.. Hell, I wanted to punch, kick, torture whoever did this to her.. Drew.. She did this to her.. My baby sister, now laid against the cool white tiles of her kitchen floor with blood seeping from her cracked lips, leaking nose, a few cuts that brushed her cheek.. But that all just stopped and soaked into her shirt - why was there so much on the tiles by her head?

“Y/N!” Misha ran towards her, almost slipping as he dropped to his knees and pressed two fingers against her pulse, turning back to me before nodding slowly.

“She has a really, really low pulse but it’s there.. She needs a hospital, Jensen.” Misha sighed, as he began to scan the rest of her body. Bruises littered her tan-ish flesh whilst I focused on the blood that seemed to color the floors, and that’s when Dean slowly began to come back.

“Here. Take the truck and take her to the nearest hospital - sign her in under my name and I’ll be there within an hour, or so.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out the keys, feeling my blood boil as Misha gently laid Y/N’s body full against the tile, the still fresh blood dripping down the wall where the back of her head laid.

“What - Jensen, you’re being hot-headed. This won’t fix her any faster..” Misha spoke calmly as he wrapped his hand around the keys, my tight grip slowly loosening as I glanced back at my sister; my light green eyes slowly darkened.

“I don’t care. She’s suffered because I was too stupid to see it, and who knows how long she’s suffered because she couldn’t, or wouldn’t talk..” I whispered with a slightly cracked voice as Misha stared at me, opening his mouth only for me to give him a warning glance, causing him to slowly shut it.

“Don’t do anything to get you arrested, alright..?” Misha sighed, stepping forward and wrapping his arms over my shoulders; just like a Cas and Dean hug as I patted his back, my eyes still locked onto Y/N.

“Go. I’ll be behind you guys in a little bit.” I nodded towards the door as Misha slightly frowned before dropping back down to Y/N, reaching under her knees and neck to hoist her up as I marched behind him; my only thoughts on what I would say and, or, do to Drew when she decided to come back home.. If she decided to come back home..

Closing the front door slowly behind Misha, I listened as truck doors’ slammed shut and the hum of the engine went off into the street and to the nearest hospital. I know I should be there with Y/N, be there if and when she wakes up.. But not before I got to say what I needed to say..

Not before I got to show Drew that… You don’t fuck with an Ackles.

I turned around and moved towards the kitchen, noticing the dining room was barely lit by the small lamp in the living room. Narrowing my eyes, I moved towards it pushing a chair back and crossing my feet on top of the wooden table; not even bothering to move as I settled into my position; lightly drumming my thumb against the wood as I waited.

The low beeping and hum of machines surrounded me as I floated around in my mind - my dark mind. My thoughts running back to Jensen, Misha, Jared, and.. And Drew. God, Drew was going to kill me.. She.. She’s going to kill me. She’s going to wring my neck and watch me bleed if I.. I..

“Y/N?!” I began to choke on something shoved down my throat, I gasped and tried to grab at it when suddenly Misha appeared above, me grabbing my hands as, from where I was looked to be a nurse, came rushing in. Yanking whatever was in my throat as I gagged on it, I sucked in a breath as I shook and coughed, suddenly feeling weaker than before.

Misha thanked the women before she nodded and walked out, mumbling to herself as I tried to swallow down thick gulps of cool, somewhat medicated smelling air.. I’m in a hospital.. A fucking hospital.

“M..Mish..”

“Sh, hey, it’s okay baby bear.. It’s okay, I’m right here..” Misha moved closer as he wrapped his hands around my chilled, clammy one. Swallowing some spit, I blinked with my right eye - it is my left seemed to be swollen shut.

“Where’s… Jensen? Jar.. Jared?” I whispered as he stroked my head, rubbing his thumb over the tightly done up bandages - wait, bandages?

“They, uh.. Jared’s back at Jensen’s house with Danneel and the girls,” he paused before his eyes glanced towards the door before he sighed gently. “Jensen had a few.. Words, he wanted to say to Drew..”

“No.. No, he can’t..!” I coughed as I felt my body lurch from the movements, causing me to hiss as I settled back into the bed.

“Y/N, you’ve been abused for God knows how long, and you’re now just telling us..? What would’ve we done if something worse happened?!” Misha quickly defended Jensen as I furrowed my brows, closing my eyes for a second as the room began to spin.

“Drew.. She won’t stop. She’ll come after me - there’s no use if it isn’t going to stop..” I whispered as my lips trembled, my hand turning over in Misha's as I tightened my grip. Feeling tears begin to roll down my cheeks as I turned my head into his shoulder, ignoring the heavy pain that settled on the back of my skull like some dead weight.

“Y/N.. Baby bear, you know Jensen... He’ll fight for you, he’ll make it all go away.” Misha whispered as he tried to soothe me, but my heart only ached more.

“What if it doesn’t..? What if it just gets worse..?” More tears dripped down my cheeks and off my chin as I felt my body begin to shake and shiver - fear was settling in.

“Hey, hey, hey.. We won’t stop until it stops.. Okay?” Misha moved to where I stared straight into his bright blue eyes as I gulped and gently nodded as I licked my lip, gently flinching as I felt the large cut in it.

“Not until it stops..?” I whispered, testing the waters as Misha gently smiled and nodded.

“Not until it stops. Now, get some rest... Jensen’ll be here by the time you wake up.” Misha brushed his lips against my forehead as I faintly smiled, feeling my body slowly relax as I sank down into the bed.

I had my family… I had the people that truly cared about me.. And that’s all I’d ever need in life.

“Y/N! Babe, I’m-” Drew’s voice grew quiet as she stared down at a large puddle of blood, mixed with shards of glass and a strong vodka scent...

“Y/N, I thought I asked you to clean this up!” Drew growled slightly as she slammed the front door closed, the sound of her boots crunching against the glass as she moved into the kitchen, stopping as her eyes landed on a puddle of thick crimson that smeared into the tiles.

“Oh, Jesus..”

“What? Squeamish around blood?” Jensen spat causing Drew to jump and stumble backward as her eyes landed on the mans’ brooding features. She furrowed her brows as she stepped closer, flicking on the dining room light as she loosened her muscles; not realizing just how pissed Jensen looked.

“Jesus, Jensen.. You scared me..” Drew tried to smile but he continued to frown. She moved to step closer but Jensen stood causing her to stop dead in her steps. He moved around the small table as he moved in front of her, his hands clenching and unclenching as she looked up at him with somewhat terrified eyes.

“I know what you did.. And you’re not going to get away with it. So I thought I should tell you, Y/N won’t be coming around you anymore, and she’s breaking up with you. Along with if you ever try to come and see her, contact her, or hell even grab her attention in any way - I’ll have you arrested and locked away for domestic violence, along with potential manslaughter.” Jensen snapped a small smile before it returned to its original frown.

“Also, if I somehow hear that you’re attempting to get back with my baby sister, I’ll personally make sure it doesn’t happen. And trust me, when you fuck with one Ackles, you fuck with all the Ackles.. Along with family friends. So, do you understand?” He held a tight smile as Drew stared up into his dark eyes - they showed no pity, no empathy, nothing besides anger.

“Ye.. Yes.” Drew huffed out as Jensen leaned down some, keeping his hands tucked behind his back as he tightened the grip on them.

“Just a little tip for some, maybe, non-violent relationships in your future… Don’t try to abuse a celebrities sister and think you can, and, or will get away with it. Because, trust me, we have a thing about making people's lives living hells.” He moved away from her, already feeling sick from standing even close to her.

“Jensen, wait-” Drew went to reach for him, causing him to turn and grab her wrist as she tried to yank away, he merely arched a brow and frowned. “Pl.. Please, let me see Y/N! I want to at least apologize to her - I.. I screwed up her life so much already, but I can change! I promise, I’ll.. I’ll stop drinking and go into counseling!”

Jensen merely glared at her before shaking his head, throwing her wrist down as she stumbled forward as he moved through the living room and grabbed Y/N’s car keys, not wanting to leave it in Drew’s obviously caring hands.

“Yeah.. You can go do that, but you’re staying the hell away from Y/N. You won’t change, you won’t do any of the things you said - hell, this little confrontation wouldn’t be happening if you would’ve kept your promise from those few months ago!” Jensen growled as Drew stepped back, shrinking in the process as he shook his head, scoffing.

“You remember, right? When you were so blindly drunk that you smack - no, hit.. My sister square in the jaw, which bruised into something awful, and that’s when you first promised to stop drinking, to stop with the anger, to stop with everything! But obviously, it was all some type of joke - and here’s the damn punchline.” Jensen hissed as she stood there, tears already dripping down her cheeks and onto her night-out shirt as he shook his head, barely turning it towards her before he opened the front door.

“Well, guess what, this time.. It will stop. And I’ll make damn sure of that.” And with that... He slammed the door. Sealing his promise to keep his baby sister, his world outside of Danneel - he can’t remember why he left her for the year... Not even picking up her calls, not answering text, or anything.. Hell, he barely talked to anyone when they brought up Y/N.

But, now? Now, he’d take it all back. He’d go to her house more often, answer her text and phone calls, allow her to come back to his house and see Danneel.. Hell, even work with her again on Supernatural.

Who knows how long that’ll take.. After a year of neglect from your brother, and then being hit and abused emotionally, mentally, and physically for however long.. Who knows long it’ll take for Y/N to jump back into the swing of things.. To get back on her feet and brace the day with a warm, caring smile..

Who knows…

I awoke to the sound of hushed voices murmuring around me, as my eyes flickered open from the darkness that surrounded me just minutes - maybe hours beforehand. Inhaling deeply, well, as deeply as my wounded chest would let me I met the watering eyes of Jay..

“Jen?” I smiled as best my swollen cheek would let me as I gently sat up, not bothering with the sheet as I reached up, my arms encircling around his neck while his own floated above my bandaged body.

“Hey, sis.. God, you look awful.” Jensen laughed as he pulled back, tears cascading down his cheeks as I frowned, taking my slightly shaking hand and pressed it against his cheek, wiping it away with my thumb as he grabbed ahold of my hand and pressed his lips to my palm.

“Thanks, Jay.. You really know how to make a girl feel special..” I giggled gently, trying to not push myself as the doctor instructed. “So, do we know how long I’m stuck in here for..?” I asked as Jensen looked at Misha, who sat on the edge of my bed.

“Uh, yeah. The doctor mentioned that he’d keep you tonight, tomorrow, and overnight tomorrow night to make sure nothing worsens, or you get any small headaches or anything like that.” He half-smiled as I frowned, already catching on as I looked back to Jensen who was looking at the bruises that littered my arms.

“Jay, I’m fine-”

“Obviously not.. You’re in a hospital bed with bandages around your head, tapes around your eye and on your cheek, dried blood still crusted around your nose and lips - Y/N, you look like you just went through a damn boxing ring.” Jensen scoffed as his rough thumb grazed over my swollen, black and blue cheek making me turn away.

“It’s not like I chose to become Drew’s punching bag, Jay!” I coughed, trying to raise my voice only to become a storm of whooping coughs. Jensen stood some, keeping his hand on my shoulder as I sighed, once the coughs subsided.

“I..I know you didn’t.. And I wasn’t exactly the big brother of the year-”

“Yeah, no shit..” I scoffed gently as Jensen furrowed his brows, frowning as Misha stood catching both Jensen and I’s attention.

“Okay, you two need to just hug and make-up! You, baby bear, are in terrible condition from something that has gotten out of hand. And you, Mr. Tough Guy, are in terrible condition with her. Now, are you two really going to allow one sad chapter make it a sad story - or are you going to make it a celebration that, guess what, you’re a survivor.” Misha’s voice grew quiet as Jensen and I sat there, awestruck.

Mishas’ never really had such an.. Outburst. I swallowed thickly as I felt fresh tears begin to build up in my eyes as I realized.. Misha is right... I’m a survivor of something that could and would break someone - for life. And yet, here I am, surrounded by people I love and treasure whilst the demon I was trying so long to defend against is now… Gone.

“You.. You’re right, Misha.. I’m sorry.. I.. Jay, you’re not a terrible brother-”

“Yes. Yes, I am. You were going through something and I wasn’t there when I should’ve been. I’m sorry, Y/N.. I promise I’ll make it up to you.” Jay smiled down at me as I sniffed, feeling the trail of my wet tears drip down my cheeks as I smiled softly, moving up as I wrapped my arms around his neck and allowed a shaking breath to pass my lips.

“You already have, Jay.. I love you..” I whispered against his ear as he gently tried to tighten one of his arms around my torso, still being mindful of my bandages.

“I love you, too, squirt..”

“Oh my god, I haven’t heard you use that nickname in years!” I gasped as I pulled back, Jensen wearing a large grin as I rolled my right eye before settling back into my bed as he shoved his hands into his pants’ pockets.

“Yeah, well, I just might have to start using it again.” He teased whilst I rolled my one good eye again, sticking my tongue out while being thoughtful of my busted lip.

“Oh, please, don’t! I already have Jared calling me ‘short stack’, Misha calling me ‘Baby bear’, and don’t get me started on Richards’ nicknames for me!” I laughed as I felt my eyes grow heavy. Jensen and Misha laughed as they exchanged glances, Misha nodding as he moved forward, pressing his lips to my forehead before whispering, “get some more rest, baby bear.. You’ll need it soon enough.”

I smiled and nodded as I went to watch him leave, realizing Jensen was most likely heading home as well - My thought was cut off by the sound of a chair screeching against the clean tiles, causing me to open my eye again.

“Yeah, no, I’m not leaving you. Not again. I’ll be here when you wake up, and I’ll be here when you fall asleep. Besides the times I need to shower or go to the bathroom.” He grinned as I crinkled my nose.

“You, Jensen R. Ackles, are a disgusting individual.” I giggled gently before leaning back against my soft pillow, allowing a sigh to leave my lips as he grinned gently.

“And you, Y/N D. Ackles, are a resistor and a survivor..”

Epilogue: Coming Soon

#Jensen x sister!reader #Misha Collins #jared padalecki mentioned #Danneel Ackles mentioned #SPN #SPN FANDOM #SPN Family #spn fanfic #spn series #tw:abuse #freaking fluffy as hell chapter #Jensen goes a bit Dean

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koganphrancis · 6 years

Photo

Camless Episode 4

(gif credit: winifred-burkle)

It’s a landmark episode and not a lot happens, as always. If they didn’t have the fact it was the 100th episode to talk about, they’d pretty much have nothing at all. Another episode without bringing up Terror (yay!), another episode without sex or a titty shot (shock!), another episode where we learn nothing about wtf is going on with Ian (yawn). I HAD thought the show had managed to wrap up 3 storylines, but then I saw spoilers online last night that would indicate at least 2 of them will go on :( Spoilers and not much else under the cut.

Ian got the “here’s what you missed” again this week, which I’m taking as another sign Cam is nearing the swan song ;) But, ugh,the opening wasn’t funny-or understandable-at all. Cam’s standing in front of a busload of extras they must’ve bussed in from a local Chicago school of modeling to portray Gay Jesus supporters, he’s wearing his “God Loves Fags” T shirt and says, “What the fuck were you doing last week that was more important than watching Shameless? Protesting homophobia and bigotry? Damn right you were.” WTF? If people weren’t watching Shameless last week they were exercising good taste, not “protesting” somewhere at 9 PM on a Sunday-or does he mean not watching this shit show is a protest against homophobia and bigotry? That actually does make sense. I apologize ;P

Liam Whatever the point was of aging him and doing a time jump after Monica died went out the window last night when Liam is approached by some public school teachers about his placement for the next school year. Liam is afraid he’s going to be kept back, but they assure him it’s the opposite, they want to move him up. He asks if he’ll be put in 3rd grade, but they say they want to try him in 6th. But if Liam thought skipping a grade would put him in 3rd, that means currently he’s in 1st and the oldest that would make him right now is 7. The fuck? The only reason I’m talking about any of this is because that’s how lame the show is now.

Carl Lip FINALLY says something to him about the dogs smelling up the whole house. And then shockingly Ian and Carl have a conversation about the dogs too-and West Point. But of course this is the year of the Gallagher house seeming weird and creepy, so the conversation takes place with a very catatonic-like Ian sitting on the basement steps in weird shadows whilst Carl feeds the dogs. The brotherly convo goes like this: Ian: Sure they wouldn’t have been better off if you just gassed them like you were supposed to? Carl: I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I: How are you going to order men (note to JW-women can serve in the armed forces now too, even in combat) to kill the enemy if you can’t put down a couple of old dogs? That’s what officers do-order men (!!!) to kill. What did you think they were gonna teach you at West Point? Marching cadences? C: Is that what Gay Jesus would do? I: What, kill old dogs? Hell no, Gay Jesus is all about inclusion and grace, but you’re not looking to get into heaven. You want to lead lean mean murdering machines. (DID ANYONE EVER THINK THAT WAS IAN’S GOAL IN GOING TO WEST POINT? LEADING KILLING MACHINES TO THEIR DEATHS? I HATE YOU, JOHN WELLS!) If you can’t kill a couple of old dogs might be the time to start considering teaching kindergarten? Nursing school?

On that note, he gets up and walks away. Let me interject another rant here-since WHEN is Ian this insensitive sexist jerk who would think of jobs/careers in terms of things real men do vs. traditionally (in the dark ages) “feminine” jobs? John Wells is a fucking dinosaur that needs to be educated-fucking teaching and nursing jobs are as difficult as soldiering, plus these days they’re expecting teachers to start protecting classrooms with weapons. He’s such a dumb fuck!

And also-I bet this is the only time Ian will speak to Carl about West Point and we’ll never know how he truly felt about watching Carl grasp at the dream he once had. Way to blow the opportunity.

There’s a whole stupid side story about Carl and the kid who originally was getting the West Point letter of recommendation. In another add it to the list of “read the room, school kids arranging to shoot each other isn’t funny, you fucking out of touch white males” plots, Carl needs to get his “killing mojo” back so he goes to visit a local veteran. I can’t even begin to guess if Wells was trying to make some commentary about PTSD or if he was just using the poor guy for laughs (this is Shameless, as they love to remind us, so I’m guessing Wells was just going for yuks). The show makes its at least THIRD joke using tattoos as a punchline, and-just like with Mickey and Ian-it fails to be funny. Get new material, you untalented hack! Sorry I keep yelling at John Wells-what a waste if he’s not actually reading this ;)

In Carl’s showdown with the other kid, Wells turns that kid into a poetry-spouting “pansy” at the last second. The kid can’t bring himself to shoot Carl, so he shoots himself in the thigh saying his warmonger dad can’t make him enlist in the Marines now even if he’s not going to West Point. I’m sitting at home wondering if the idiot nicked his femoral artery and is about to bleed out. Carl says the self inflicted wound is just a flesh wound and they’ll be able to tell, so the kid starts blabbering poetry and Carl shoots him in the other thigh to shut him up. The kid thanks him and Carl walks away. Now I’m convinced that second shot had to hit the femoral artery and no one’s calling 911 and I bet the kid dies and Carl’s path to West Point is now strewn with his body and Kassidi’s.

Debbie I can’t...I’ll try, I’ll try to be brief, because it’s all meaningless. After spending one night together, Alex says they should live together (because that’s what ALL wacky lesbians do, they move right in), and Debs says yes. They get to have a cute domestic breakfast scene that by rights should’ve gone to Mickey and Ian, but I digress. Debbie goes out and buys “lesbian” outfits, which to me just seemed like they were making fun of HER-of course she’s going to hit the mall, she’s just a teenager! She doesn’t have to be the spokeswomen of lesbians everywhere. This show has a knack of mocking the wrong things at the wrong times. It’s their shitty writing, not teen spending habits, that’s ridiculous here.

The next time we see them, they’re in bed again, and Alex is filling Debbie in on her past serious relationships, and then Wells gives Debbie a speech about all the dudes she slept with and it’s so much more cringe-worthy thinking about the fact he wrote it. Plus it’s another “relationship retcon” speech since Debbie doesn’t mention that every other time she’s had sex it was a form of rape. Matty (who Wells has Debbie say had a “big dick”) wasn’t conscious (and, btw, John, a 12 year old virgin-which is the oldest Debbie could’ve been at the time with all your screwing around with her still being 16 last year-wouldn’t be all that enthusiastic about “big dicks” for her very 1st time), Derrick (who she lied to about birth control-if he had slipped off a condom right before entering her that would be rape and this case is also-Wells says he had a great body and really knew what he was doing), and the guy she crossed state lines with who was obviously over 21 if he could rent a hotel room in Missouri, PLUS she was drugged and unable to give consent-that dude’s a two for! Debbie doesn’t mention him, since she can’t remember him, I guess. She brings up Neil, but says being with him was just financial (she doesn’t bother to say he just watched while she did things to herself. But hey, if they had had sex, that would’ve been another case of statutory!) Anyway, then Wells has Debbie spout off about what having sex with another “girl” is like and Alex gets more and more dejected. She’s just now seeing that Debbie’s not gay? We’re supposed to feel sorry for her? When in the previous episode which SEEMS to have taken place the day before (or a couple of weeks, tops, if you’re going by Liam’s time line) Alex said right out loud that she knew Debbie was straight? WHY IS THIS SHOW SO DUMB? We haven’t gotten to know Alex well enough to have sympathy for her regardless, but they made the point of letting us know she KNEW going in Debbie is straight. And of course in John Wells’ world, there’s no such thing as bisexuals, so...

Deb and Alex “break up” (who cares?) and I thought that would be the end of Alex and Debbie’s gay storyline, but no-sounds like they’re going to be the new Ian and Terror-next week “Debbie tries to repair things with Alex” according to Spoiler TV. NOOOOO! I wanted that to be one of my three wrapped up storylines!

Debbie comes back into the Gallagher kitchen, dragging her baby carriage and pillow with her and crying her heart out. None of the siblings appear very concerned-this is the new Shameless, a bunch of strangers occasionally bumping into each other. The biggest “shocker” of the scene is the family is eating Popeye’s instead of KFC. Another jolt that we don’t even know these people anymore, LOL.

Lip I can’t...I just don’t understand the motivation to try to make Xan part of his life when he doesn’t seem to be bonding with her in the least. He asks her if she’d want to stay with him if her mom never comes back-but doesn’t tell the kid why HE wants her to stay or ask Xan why she would want to stay when she says okay. The story is hollow and no one seems to try to be filling it with any substance.

There’s a couple of scenes at the motorcycle shop and it’s so obvious Lip and Brad have no idea what they’re doing-they always just grab wrenches and poke at bike parts with them. Last night Lip kept using the ratchet wrench-I think JAW must like the noise it makes.

Lip sells the bike he restored to get money to buy parental rights from Xan’s mom, and it’s just creepy? Why would the mom know to trust him? I’m still not even convinced WE should trust him-sharing a room with her is creepy af. Anyway, Xan comes running up when Lip’s trying to get the mom to make the deal (and why is Xan out unsupervised in the middle of the night on a dark South Side street? Even if she did “just” sneak out to look for her mom, this is a clear example that Lip isn’t father of the year, that he’s not meeting the bare minimum requirements as a guardian), and the mom drops to hug Xan because it’s the 100th episode and these two characters we barely know should get the big emotional scene? Anyway, Lip drops the check and runs, overwhelmed by an actual show of emotion, no doubt. THIS was the 2nd storyline I was hoping would be over, but then TMZ reported that the actress who plays Xan has been signed for Season 10. Which, BTW, still hasn’t been officially announced and that just seems weird that they haven’t. What is Showtime waiting for?

Fiona Ugh, she was worse than ever this week. Can’t believe these are her waning days-it truly seems like Wells is out to punish her. Fi is on the toilet as Bored brushes his teeth. Fiona goes right from flushing to brushing her teeth WITHOUT WASHING HER HANDS. It was so gross-I hope next episode she and Bored have pink eye and mouth thrush. (Fi also touches her lip after putting on lipstick-still without the benefit of soap.) They still have no fucking chemistry, and they start talking about the election which of course they don’t see eye to eye on. Then Fi goes to Patsy’s for the first time in forever and Wells gets to recycle the Fi vs Ian fight over gentrification from last season by having Fi on the opposite side of Frank’s candidate, although they don’t bother to give us any face-to-face interaction. Which is just fine, since the election storyline was boring and weak anyway.

Fi is a total...I don’t even know the word-what do you call a boss who doesn’t allow their workers their freedom as voters? She tells the waitresses to take off their buttons supporting their candidate and that there can be “no electioneering” at the workplace, but puts up a poster for her guy and offers free pie to anyone who puts on one of his buttons. Would she ever really be that clueless and such a bully? Does anyone care anymore?

Later, Fiona goes to the Alibi and has a conversation with Vee where she basically says, “This is what Ford is telling me to think this week...” Fiona says she wants to vote for the guy against rent control, the businessman And Vee points out that “the businessman” in Washington isn’t working out too great. Ooh, Shameless, rushing in with the timely political commentary! (There will be more too, ugh.)

When Fi shows up at her (or a?) polling place, there’s a rumble going on and Wells has her throw one punch to show us she’s still “South Side”, I guess. It was gratuitous. It did not remind us of the show’s glory days, it was a thrown in pointless moment that was so outrageously just tacked on.

In Fiona’s final scene this week, Bored walks into the apartment building with his massive wooden toolbox reminding us he’s a massive tool, and Fiona tells him how she changed her vote, they kiss, and women’s rights are set back another 100 years. Oh, and Bored still squints A LOT delivering his lines. Emmy seems to open hers even wider, probably unconsciously trying to get the other actor to at least try to keep his open once in a while...

Veronica and Kevin There was some more truly awful “rape jokes” this week. Rape is never going to be funny, and with the week this country suffered through last week-plus the fact that it’s still ongoing-I really wish they had just deleted all the Alibi scenes. Kev makes up a scoreboard or bingo sheet (it isn’t clear) of all the “types” of rapey behavior that can now be shorthanded into a celebrity’s name. I won’t even justify the “joke” with some examples. And then KEVIN becomes a sought-after consultant to make other South Side bars less rapey because he’s the white man running the Alibi and Vee is...not.

Frank is in the episode more than I’m going to talk about, but suffice it to say I do truly believe his election storyline is over (one out of three is not good enough, Shameless! Wrap up the boring shit that’s going nowhere and do something with the other shit that’s also going nowhere!) Mo wins the election, and Wells has a reporter say it’s because voters were afraid to say they were bigots in polls. Which again, this show is too narrow to try to address larger issues-if that’s Wells’ theory why Trump won, it doesn’t explain how “bigoted voters” elected Obama twice. Try making the world a better place, Wells. Yes, there is racism and idiot bigotry here, but there was just something smug about how he justified his fictional political outcome. There was a scene where Frank’s asking some of the Gallaghers if they’re voting-Carl says he’s too young, Lip says he’s not registered, and Ian says, “What’s the point?” And that pissed me off too, because we’re having Gay Jesus shoved down our throats, but then Wells seems to be saying Ian won’t bother to vote and would rather blow shit up. Again, the kid that ORIGINALLY had the dream to serve his country by going to West Point. And fucking Lip-what, he’s too “smart” to think voting matters?

(Also in that scene, Ian was eating peanut butter toast, but still no sign of his pill bottles. Cam actually took a bite of the toast, if that type of dedication to his craft matters to anyone.)

The post credits “joke” was a pedo joke about Mo. Fuck you, John Wells.

The only thing Frank was good for this week was to lead us back to Mickey’s house. As so often with this show, I have to forget context (good thing I’ve had plenty of practice, I guess?) and I will fully admit that when I saw Mickey’s little castle of a house I teared up a little. It was like seeing an old friend.

But then of course they had to ruin it by Frank knocking on the door, we hear Terry yelling and hitting a dog named Adolf (they put a yelp in and everything) and Terry opens the door wielding a baseball bat that brought Negan and Jeffery Dean Morgan to mind-I hope that was a shout out to him. The bat had nails in embedded in it instead of barbed wire, but close enough. Best not to imagine how much cooler the show might have been with JDM instead of Sean, sigh.

A much funnier joke than anything they did give us about Mo White would’ve been to have Frank ask Terry, “Still have a connection with Russians? I have an election to rig.”

Finally we get to Ian but just because he had more screen time this week doesn’t mean we’re any closer to knowing anything. And I was going to bust Cameron for acting very sleepy and out of it in all of his scenes, but then I realized that’s pretty much how all the Gallagher kids actors have been acting, except for Fiona (and I’d say she’s trying too hard sometimes. There’s also been lots of scenes so far where it seems like she’s phoning it in-but of course they’re giving her shit to do).

Anyway, things this episode start in the Gallagher kitchen, Ian groans when he sees the coffee’s all gone, and says he’s not sleeping-he got too used to all the noise in jail, it’s too quiet here. Well, bitch, the house was always lively when the Milkovich siblings were there too, work on getting them back...

Lip asks him if he met his public defender yet and Ian says Geneva and the Gay Jesus donors got him a lawyer, “rich, queer, too much time on his hands since same sex marriage got fixed.” Um, why is Ian sounding so put out with the guy without even meeting him? What’s this superiority complex?

Later Ian walks into GJ church HQ and he’s limping, but I don’t think it’s a continuity error, I think they probably just had him film scenes out of order that day and I think he went a little too hard, LOL. Anyway, the GJ kids applaud and Geneva hugs him-she’s into it, he’s not. At the HQ they’re making silk screen shirts with Ian’s face and Gay Jesus signs. Geneva is once again spouting out statistics, saying how wildly popular the movement is, 77,000 followers in the past five days-One Direction at their height was gaining popularity around the globe like that, not this Gay Jesus shit. Ian doesn’t seem to be listening too closely to what she’s spewing, and when two body-builder women walk by he asks Geneva who they are. She says they’re part of the lesbian legion from an MMA gym and adds, “Your gays turned out to be too sweet to handle security.” Whatever-they keep trying to act like there’s all this dynamic action happening off screen-NO ONE CARES since all we ever see is Ian moping around, looking like Cameron has a headache.

Next time we see Ian he’s walking around outside in his red kicks (really wish we knew the significance of those-are they supposed to be like Jesus’ sandals? What happened in the cut scene where he left them in the aisle last season? I only want to know because the show seems to think they mean SOMETHING)-anyway, where’s Ian going? Why? We’re never told-great storytelling this ain’t, kids. A van slows up next to him and a guy leans out and says, “You’re Ian, right? Gay Jesus?” How did the guys in the van know where Ian would be walking? Do they just circle the Gay Jesus church hoping he’ll come out? Again, we’ll never know. The guy continues, “I’ve been watching your videos with my friends. The burning vans, the sermons-it’s inspiring.” Ian says thanks. The guy says, “You really think that’s what Jesus was teaching?” Ian says, “Inclusion, love, acceptance for all? Yeah, absolutely.” Then the van guy says, “You don’t think God sees homosexual bestiality as a sinful perversion of His divine creations?” Ian’s confused, says, “What?”, sees the sliding panel door of the van open, and takes off running, jumping over fences and at some point in his getaway, pulling some muscle in his tight jeans.

Next time we see Ian he’s sitting alone in the Gallagher kitchen nursing a beer and his thigh. (No Bible this time-no sign of his pills either.) Lip comes in and asks him if he’s okay and Ian says he maybe pulled a hamstring running from homophobes. Lip says, “I guess there’s nothing new about that, right?” and you wonder just when he stopped caring so completely about his brother.

Ian doesn’t bother to answer, sips his beer instead. After a minute he quietly asks Lip, “Think you could do hard time?” Lip: In prison? Uh...rather not. I: Gay Jesus kids don’t want me to cop a plea. Want me to take it to trial. Get as much publicity for the cause as I can. L: What’s your lawyer say? I: Could be looking at 10-15 if I don’t take a deal. (Me at home, screaming at the TV: WHAT ARE THE CHARGES? WHY CAN’T THEY EVER TELL US ANYTHING? WHAT ARE THEY SAYING YOU DID THAT’S ON PAR WITH MICKEY’S BULLSHIT ATTEMPTED 2ND DEGREE MURDER SENTENCE????)

Lip, rather than saying ANYTHING to the brother he’s closest to about maybe not giving up his entire young adulthood to a cause, not saying something like, “You’d be older than the real Jesus got to live till by the time you get out”, not saying if he thinks Ian’s an idiot if he’s even questioning doing hard time in a bad place, no, rather than that, he takes his coffee out of the microwave and comes around the counter to the same side as Ian and says, “You ah, hearing from Shim again?” I: Sometimes. (Me at home: WHAT? WHEN? What does that look like when it happens?) L: Well, what does Shim think? I: Unclear. (Oh, Ian, are you kidding me? All this time you thought you were talking to god but you’ve just been playing with a Magic 8 Ball?) L: Xan’s mom showed up today. (Guess we’re done talking about Ian then!) She’s a junkie. Hookin’... I: What are you going to do? L: I don’t know. I: Maybe you should try asking Shim. L: Maybe.

End scene. So again, we get tantalizingly close to a discussion about what might be going on inside Ian’s head-is he getting it? That the Gay Jesus movement is just using him at this point? Or does he really think going to prison as the highly recognizable face of said movement is going to work out somehow-other than him not dying a painful and brutal death? And why can’t Lip give enough of a shit to at least ask him not to go? Fuuuuuuck.

Next Ian’s back at GJ HQ. Geneva comes in and says she didn’t see him come in. He says he came in the back-all the hugging and applause when he comes in the front is kinda weird. Since Geneva is the only one who ever hugs him, I hope she’s getting the hint. He’s looking over the “Free Gay Jesus” posters.

Ian: What is this? Geneva: Couple of the arty kids are working out a few ideas for if you do end up in prison. I: Couple assholes in a van chased me last night. Apparently they’re not very big fans of my interpretation of Bible verse. G: Fuckers. I’ll get you a couple of lesbian legion body guards. They’d love nothing more than to a chance to stomp homophobes. (Because, yeah, THAT was Jesus’ message.) Ian holds up a Che Jesus shirt with an unintentionally hilarious graphic of him wearing a beret-Showtime probably thinks fans want to buy them (I wrote these notes before Steve Howey tweeted he wants one last night. It got less than a thousand likes, and I bet that number would be less than half if Cam hadn’t replied).

I: Think any of this is gonna end up making a difference? G: Ian, you’ve given thousands of gay and lesbian teenagers a voice. (Insert Mickey gif of “Not really tho” here.) You’ve inspired us to stand up and fight for ourselves.

So much wrong with so much of that. First of all, is Geneva LGBT? She was a runaway who ran away from having to give blowjobs, right, not because her parents kicked her out for being LGBT? And she’s been crushing on Ian since Day 1, so, probably not “L”, and Wells clearly doesn’t believe in “B”, so who is Geneva to say “us”? And next, IF Ian/Gay Jesus has given kids “a voice”, what is he saying for them-are the teens really into his whole “Jesus was a junkie”, “my god is non-binary” shouting that they haven’s shown since last year? Don’t teens get bored and move on to the next thing when their idols aren’t doing anything new? Lastly, she says they are standing up and fighting for themselves-where, when, how?

I: Know what I was thinking when I was running away from those bastards? (Me at home: NO! We never know what you’re thinking! That’s the whole damn problem with your storylines!) It’s been 2000 years since Jesus died on the cross and I’m still running for my life down an alley because I fall in love with men instead of women. (No, Ian, you’ve only ever loved one (1) man-fucking admit that for once and then get on with your life. That line should’ve been “have sex with”, no one deserves to be chased down for that either, and it wouldn’t have made me exasperated with Ian over the whole “love” thing, which is a separate issue this show fucking needs to handle before it’s all said and done with Ian.)

Then one of the GJ kids comes in to report there’s a bunch of Nazi’s keeping people from getting to one of the polls and we don’t see Ian again this episode. But again, I hope that they’re finally having him wake up to the fact that NO ONE cares about him. The family has washed its hands of him, the Gay Jesus followers WANT him to go to prison (and probably die) and be a martyr for the cause. Time to ask yourself who is the only person who ever looked at you and actually saw you there, Ian. The only person to look you in the eye and say, “I love you.”

#Recap #Camless Episode 4 #Season Nein #Nobody wants it

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