#a sad reason to be dragging this out from drafts but it felt fitting somehow to mark Don's passing with one of his earliest and

[mariocki]

Donald Sutherland guest stars as the appropriately named Philip Guest, a less appropriately unbalanced kidnapper, in Gideon's Way: The Millionaire's Daughter (1.21, ITC, 1966)

[misssnowfoxx]

MAJOR END GAME SPOILERS

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You know it’s weird because Steve and Tony’s endings are one of those things that feel satisfying when you first watch them but start to unravel as you think more deeply about them. And somehow that’s more frustrating than something that you hate on first glance.

Even though it’s not the end I envisaged for Tony, I didn’t have any major issues with his finale. For me, killing him felt a little cheap and I felt there were more interesting things they could have done for him that fit his arc better. But what’s done is done. If they wanted him to die, they made damn well sure he went out in the best way possible!

*sigh* oh Steve. Look, I get it. Steve isn’t from this time. He never was. It seems like it makes sense to send him back a place and time he belongs. But my issue is less with steve wanting to go back to the 1940s as it is with him marrying Peggy and leaving Bucky behind in the modern world. Look, I get it. I ship Steggy. I wish they’d had a chance. I wish they’d gotten to live out their lives together. But the sad truth is they DIDNT. Their love story ended with them being separated. It wasn’t meant to be. And sometimes a beautiful love story has to end prematurely.

Peggy, as many people have already pointed out, had a full and amazing live with AND without Steve. She did amazing things after Steve was gone. But more importantly, she MOVED ON. She married and had a family and was HAPPY. And as much as I know we’ve seen Steve act selfishly in movies past, it makes me uncomfortable to say the least, that he would make the decision to walk back into her life and essentially rewrite her history - no husband, no kids, a completely different life. And to be honest, if Peggy were able to look at it objectively and make the choice for herself, I’m not 100% convinced she would choose to have Steve back either. Having the memories and the time with steve that she did, knowing that he’s actually alive and well in another timeline while she’s alive and well in hers, I believe, would make her happy. I just don’t see a way for them to end up together without it doing a disservice to both of them as characters.

And then there’s Bucky. Yes, I ship stucky. Yes I ship it more than steggy. But this actually bugs me less on a shipping level and more on a story level. Bucky is ALSO from another time. In some way, we can even argue that Bucky had even less choice about being dragged into this timeline than Steve did. Bucky was drafted. Bucky never wanted to go to war. Bucky was kidnapped and changed and brought back to life and well we all know the rest. Forced to fight war after war and never allowed to rest. Even at the very end, he still has to fight.

Steve has always wanted this life, even though it’s been hard for him. As much as it’s clear he suffers from PTSD, he also CHOSE this life, he CHOSE to be captain America. Bucky DIDNT. So why is it fair that Steve gets to go back, gets to press the re set button, gets the girl and gets to live a normal life and heal, while Bucky is left behind to lick his wounds. Bucky hasn’t had the time to live in the same way Steve has. He’s been in and out of freezers his whole modern life and spent the rest of it on the run or fighting. He hasn’t had time to go check out Star Wars or go on morning runs. What I think many people, including the writers, may have forgotten about is that Steve has now spent the best part of a decade in this era. He’s made connections. He made family. He had a LIFE. Sure, he may have never felt completely at ease, but this Steve was not a complete fish out of water. And we don’t get to see much of Bucky in these later movies but I get the sense that he’s only JUST beginning to live a semblance of a normal life out here.

What I’m saying is, I also can’t imagine that Steve “I’m with you till the end of the line” Rogers would move hell to protect Bucky Barnes, would break the law and pull helicopters from the sky for him, only to hang it all up once the fight is done. To leave Bucky in the modern day almost completely alone. Also, as some of you have pointed out, it also suggests that Steve has completely disregarded the fact that we don’t even know if steve saves Bucky from his fate with this new version of his life.

On a relationship level, where Steve and Peggy’s romance was destined to end with them living their lives apart, the MCU proved to us with its storytelling that Steve and Bucky (platonically or otherwise) are destined to find one another again and again and again despite being apart through all kinds of odds. It makes more sense narratively for them to be together at the end. And who knows, perhaps this is just another way in which they somehow have to find their way back to one another. Maybe that’s also their fate - to be brought together over and over again only be be parted as soon as they think they’re safe.

I can say with 100% confidence that although it would have hurt, I would have preferred Steve to be the one that died instead of this. To me, his arc has always felt like it should end with death. He’s a manic depressive who has chased danger his whole life. He’s a scientific mistake. By any laws of nature he shouldn’t BE here but he is. Even his famous “I’ll be with you till the end of the line” feels like it has a sense of finality to it that hints at the final line being his deathbed. And yet that’s not what we got.

The only thing left for me now is headcanoning what version of steve was dancing with Peggy and whether or not the steve that went back was the same steve that was dancing with Peggy and the same Steve that gave Sam the shield. In my mind, just to save my sanity, I’m choosing to believe it’s not. I’m also choosing to believe that the 2012 version of steve that was told Bucky is still alive makes it his mission to look for him and that they live out their days in peace and happiness.

I’m trying not to blame the Russos for this. What they’ve done with this franchise in recent years has been mind boggling. They dragged the cap franchise back to life and we KNOW they care about him as a character and about Bucky. I can only assume they thought they were doing what was best and what best fit his final bow. And it’s very possible that at this late point in the series, they just weren’t given as much creative control over the story as we’d think.

Whatever the reason, I think it’s a real shame that this is the end for a character we’ve been with for so long. But I don’t want this to make me think of this film negatively. I found the film stunning, moving and a beautiful end to a moment in cinematic history that will he talked about for years. What I consider to be a character flaw in the last section of the road isn’t going to change that for me. (And of course there’s fanfic)

[do-your-socks-have-holes-in-them]

On the Other Side / Ch2: Light

Last / Masterpost / Next

Summary: For the past thirteen years, a secretive organization has been raising two groups of superpowered children. Half of them, since their very first memories, have been told they’ll grow up to be brave and strong superheroes; the rest were taught a much harsher view of the world, and groomed to become villains. Neither group knows of the other’s existence. But when a certain trio of heroes-to-be meets two future villains who really just want to be left alone, they all realize how much they haven’t been told.

Warnings: non-graphic violence, bullying, child abuse, sympathetic/good Deceit (Devon) is a main character

A/N: currently still on schedule despite classes starting, will be able to put ch3 up next week!

Read on AO3

Light.

The boys woke to a painfully bright light and the feeling of hitting the floor from their previous sitting-up position.  Ow.  They got up as fast as they could manage, blinking quickly and swaying from both residual sleep and their general lack of strength at the moment, struggling not to reach out to each other for support.  What they saw when they regained their vision a few seconds later was… not exactly what they expected.

The three standing in front of them weren’t adults, but rather not much older than Devon- although they were older, Virgil noticed, his internal danger-meter ticking up another notch- and they looked almost as surprised as Virgil and Devon felt.  A quick glance around told Virgil they weren’t anywhere he recognized, and- what the fuck??- rather than an open door, they seemed to have fallen out of the Room through a hole in the wall.  He wasn’t sure what any of this meant, but somehow he doubted it was good.

Devon, meanwhile, kept his attention on the trio in front of him.  Three boys- one bobbing up and down in midair with his legs crossed, one with a serious look of concentration currently focused on returning the wall to its normal state, and one in a weird outfit who seemed to be in charge, and also seemed to be glowing a little.  So they all had their powers handled.  Great.  They were so going to die.

They all stared at each other for a few seconds, and then several things happened at once.

The boy who’d been fixing the wall finished and turned around at the same moment as the maybe-leader took a step towards them, eyes narrowed suspiciously at them and hands glowing brighter than before, looking like he was about to say something.  Devon started to speak, too, in hopes of defusing the situation before it could get any worse.  The floaty one just looked concerned, and Virgil, well… Virgil sort of panicked.  Before the one who’d stepped up could do anything, Virgil darted forward and kicked him in the shins as hard as he could so that he collapsed, then grabbed Devon’s wrist and bolted.  The vague sounds of cursing behind them told him he’d better be fast.

A few minutes ago…

Patton led his friends down a hallway, floating on air as usual- well, as usual if he was happy, which was most of the time.  They were on a super important mission to help someone, because Patton could tell somebody around here needed some serious cheering up, and Roman and Logan were with him all the way!

“Patton, are you certain your abilities aren’t just acting up because a movie made you sad again?”

Well… most of the way.

“For once I have to agree with you,” Logan chimed in unhelpfully.  “There’s nothing over here; we aren’t even supposed to be over here, especially this late at night, so I don’t see how--”

“There!”

Patton pointed triumphantly to a blank wall at the end of the hallway.

“...Patton, that is a wall.”

“On the other side of the wall, silly,” Patton huffed.  “I’m serious right now, there’s someone there and they’re really upset!”

“I am fairly certain that the only thing on the other side of this wall is some grass.  And even if there’s someone outside, how do you propose that we get there?  It’s much too late to go out, and there’s a fence anyway, we couldn’t get to this side of the building from there.”  Logan seemed to think he’d left no further room for discussion until Roman turned and laid his hands on his shoulders with a serious expression.

“Did you actually forget that we have superpowers, you hopeless nerd?”

Logan’s eyes widened and he backed away, holding his hands up.  “Oh no.  No no no, you are not dragging me into this- do you even realize how difficult--”

“Logan, pleeease?”

No one was immune to Patton’s oft-overlooked second superpower, his puppy-eyes face.

“Fine,” Logan groaned.  “But if we get in trouble it’s your fault.”

He faced the wall and focused, thinking of the bonds that held its microscopic components in place and then thinking, hey, what if those were arranged a little differently?  In the blink of an eye, a chunk of the wall was now a pile of rubble a little bit off to the side.

To Logan’s surprise, the hole he’d made didn’t lead outside like it should have, but into a small empty closet.  A draft of cold air spilled out immediately- along with two small boys, who must have been asleep, but startled awake once the wall they’d been leaning against disappeared and they fell into the hallway.  Logan blinked in surprise, hearing Patton’s soft gasp of “Oh!” and Roman’s muttered “What the…?!”  He couldn’t focus on that problem yet, though, because he still needed to return all the bits of the wall before he got in trouble for taking it apart, and putting things back the way he found them was a lot less simple than turning them into deconstructed messes.  He didn’t want it to end up all lumpy because he let himself get distracted.

The boys stood up quickly, if a little dazed, and the trio got a better look at them while they seemed to be struggling to get their bearings.  They were both fairly small, dressed in mostly black and littered with bruises.  The taller one had one weird eye and scales on the left side of his face, probably something to do with his powers, and appeared to share Roman’s fondness for wearing silly costumes at all times for no good reason.  The other was tiny, only coming up to his friend’s shoulder, though it might have been exaggerated by the way he scrunched in on himself.  He was openly glaring at all three of them, with the hood of his oversized jacket pulled down almost far enough to hide his eyes and his hands balled into fists inside the too-long sleeves that covered them.

Roman, sizing them up, was immediately a bit suspicious.  He knew all about villains- they were evil, they hurt innocent people for no reason, and he, as a superhero, was going to fight them when he grew up- and these two fit the typical description perfectly.  He stepped towards them to ask who they were, readying his light manipulation powers in case they tried to hurt his friends.  Before he could say anything, the tiny kid lashed out without warning or clear cause, kicked Roman’s legs out from under him and ran away, dragging his friend along with him while Roman bit out a string of words he wasn’t supposed to know.

“Roman, are you okay?!”  Patton, feet on the ground for once, offered a hand to help him up.

“I knew it, I knew they were going to try something,” Roman exclaimed, angry but still quiet to avoid getting caught in an off-limits area.  He didn’t want another lecture on why rules were for his own safety and he should really consider following them sometimes; he got enough of those from Logan.

Patton caught his arm before he could do anything.  “Ro, I think- I think they were just scared, I think they didn’t know what was going on and we startled them and- oh, we have to go after them and fix this, I only made it worse!”

Logan nodded.  He was shifting back and forth, increasingly uncomfortable with the whole situation.  “And we need to get them back where we found them before--”

“No!”

Logan and Roman both stared at Patton, who had his jaw set in a determined pout and a little wisp of smoke coming from his bangs.

“We can’t, you don’t understand- if you had felt it, you guys- they were so upset I could feel it from our room and, and they were so scared of us, and- who goes to sleep in a closet, anyway, I don’t think they wanted to be there at all and we are not gonna make them go back!”

Roman was still trying to process things, so Logan spoke up again, carefully.  “What… do you suggest we do with them, then?”

“Well, we can… they can stay with us!  …Just until tomorrow, and then we can figure out what else to do?  Please?”

Logan gave up.  “I guess I don’t have any better ideas…”

They both looked at Roman, who was still conflicted.

“…Fine, but I’ll be watching them and they better not hurt you guys.”

“Yay!  Thanks, guys!”  Patton squeezed them both in a hug.  “Now- let’s go find them, I think they went this way!”

[twistedrunes]

Birthday Girl

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16864534

This is a purely gratuitous piece for my friend and fellow secret sinner @blinder-secrets  Hope you have a wonderful day girl! Anyway here’s some Tommy naughtiness.

Warnings: Language, a definite BDSM vibe and lots of implied naughty times. Probably technically safe for work but I’m not sure you want to read it there.

“Tickets. Ticket’s please.” The conductor calls walking down the corridor of the train. The train was unusually empty. The weather was horrendous. No sign of spring ever arriving, even two weeks out from Easter. The sleet sticking to the ground, gathering in little drifts which were quickly turned to dirty slush by anyone foolish enough to step outside.  

You had been foolish enough. Today you had interviewed Ms Agatha Christie. An honour you held so dearly God himself could not have prevented you from going. The train had been delayed by the weather on your way to the interview and was delayed again multiple times on the way home. But even the cold and late hour could not keep the smile from your face after meeting your hero.

You worked for the Manchester Guardian Weekly as a journalist. The editor had taken you on at the owner’s insistence. You were the only woman working on the paper.  So your editor had thought it appropriate that the lady journalist writes the article about the lady writer. You strongly suspected that he only let you do it because he thought that no-one would want to read about the lady writer and so it didn’t matter if the journalist was a lady too. Meaning he could keep all of his ‘real’ journalists in Manchester to cover ‘real’ news. But you didn’t care one jot, this was the opportunity of a lifetime; you had met one of your heroes.

The interview had been amazing. Ms Christie was as sharp, quick and funny as you had dreamed. Your notebook was literally full, you had filled it by the half-way point of the interview, despite being new at the beginning. Ms Christie had noticed you desperately trying to fit your shorthand into the margins and blank spaces of the used pages and had given you one of her own. You knew without a doubt you would treasure it forever. Ms Christie had also been kind enough to sign your copy of The Mysterious Affair at Styles another item you knew you would treasure forever. The interview had been scheduled for an hour but somehow had taken nearly two. So you had been forced to run to make the train.

As the train wound its way through the peak district your mind began to wander towards thoughts of tomorrow. Your birthday. Not that anything too exciting would be happening. To be honest your meeting with Ms Christie and her signing your book felt like enough wishes granted. But part of you was hoping that the day would include a visit from Mister Thomas Shelby OBE. With a whole different set of wishes hoping to be answered in his presence. The pair of you had been, well you didn’t really know what it was you were, definitely not dating, but far from casual acquaintances. Fucking. That was what you had been, fucking. As often as possible. The last time you had seen each other he had mentioned in passing that he might be in Manchester on the eighth through to the tenth of March. You had simply nodded and hoped, not wanting to reveal it was your birthday. Not sure if that was something you could or even should think was important to Tommy. 

You had met when you had been sent to do background research for a story the Birmingham Times were running about The Grace Shelby Institute. When he had met you himself you had been flustered, not expecting anyone to meet with you at all. Let alone Mr Shelby himself. You had explained quickly that you were just doing the background and that someone else would meet with him later to do a proper interview. Mr Shelby had told you the story was important to him and so he would give you the tour and answer any questions you had. He had been a kind and generous host, showing you around the building, introducing you to the children, talking about why it was important to him that children stayed where they belonged. Briefly relating the story of how his Aunt’s children had been taken and one sent to Australia and the family’s subsequent sadness when they learnt she had died. You had stayed for three hours.

When you returned to the office the editor had been nearly apocalyptic. Furious because Mr Shelby had called and said it wouldn’t be necessary for the ‘other’ reporter to come out as you had done an excellent job and that he looked forward to approving your piece before it was published in the paper in the coming week. Mr Shelby had called you the next morning, offering to go over any follow-up questions you might have. He had sent a car to collect you. The car had taken you to his house. You had met with him in his office and run over the piece and asked your questions. Mr Shelby, or Tommy as he had asked you to call him had answered them all. When you finally packed your notebook away he suggested that you stay for dinner with him as it was getting late. You had accepted. After dinner and a number of whiskeys, he had suggested you stay the night. You had accepted that offer too.

Again the editor had been furious when Tommy had returned your draft piece a few days later with only one change. He had crossed out the name of the journalist the editor had assigned to the piece and replaced with your own. That was how you had your first piece published. Well, the first piece you wrote that was attributed to you. That was the piece which had drawn the attention of the new owner of the Manchester Guardian Weekly. A young woman, who had inherited it from her father, with a good education and particular political views which meant she was eager to see more women in the workplace.

So you had moved away from Birmingham to Manchester for an actual journalistic position rather than the tea lady come, ghostwriter, you were in Birmingham.  Tommy had congratulated you on the job and suggested the two of you might catch up if either of you ever had a reason to be in the others city. You hadn’t objected to that suggestion. In the time since you’d left, you’d both found yourselves with cause to visit the others city. Visits organised to require an overnight stay. The visits had been amazing; there was something about hotel sex that made both of you more willing to reveal the more sinful sides of yourselves. As if the supposed anonymity gave you the freedom to expose yourselves.

It had started innocently enough, you had been in bed, after your first round of fucking when you congratulated Tommy on his OBE. Rolling on your stomach you had linked your fingers under your chin batting your eyelashes as you joked that soon you would have to call him Sir. He had paused, cigarette hovering at his lips as his tongue skimmed between them. His eyes turning towards you as his tongue drew his bottom lip between his teeth.  The pressure of his teeth staining his lip white as he released it.

“Hm, Sir,” He said calmly as if considering it, crushing his cigarette in the ashtray. “No, I think you have far too much spirit for that.” He said smiling benignly as he rolled on his side, propped up on his elbow, head resting in his palm, his hair hanging through his fingers as his other hand caressed your ass. “Don’t you?” He said, slapping your ass with just enough force for it to sting. You had let out a noise somewhere between a moan and a gasp, immediately feeling the dynamic between the two of you shift.

Tommy’s hand remained on your ass, soothing it. His eyes held yours, challenging you silently. Your heart pounding, you found yourself wanting to resist to see what Tommy would do next.  “Well you can’t always get your own way,” You paused, licking your lips; devils in your head at war, debating whether to call him Tommy or Sir, wondering which would rile him most. “Tommy.” You decide.

A smirk had teased the corners of Tommy’s mouth as he trailed his fingers up your back, along your shoulder to your neck, before burying them forcefully in your hair fisting them as he pulled you towards him. “Oh, but I do.” He said, lips brushing your ear. His tone casual but his tenor deeper than you’ve ever heard it, the words reverberating through your body. He tugged on your hair, opening your neck to him. Sliding his tongue over the crook of your neck before sucking on it, hard, his teeth pressing into the flesh. Each thud of your heart causing the blood pooling there to throb.

“Yes, Sir.” The words fell from your lips before they entered your mind. Followed by a groan you were ashamed to hear come from your own body.

“Mm,” Tommy hummed thoughtfully against your neck before letting go of you and rolling onto his back, his hands resting on his chest as he looked up at the ceiling.

Your body immediately craved Tommy’s touch again. You shuffled closer bringing yourself to your hands and knees so you could kiss his stomach. Your hair fell around your face in a curtain, Tommy’s fingers lazily running through it. Feeling bold you had nipped at the flesh on his flank. His response was immediate, yanking your hair to pull you away from him. Your hand had flown to your head in surprise rather than actual pain. “No.” He had said sternly. You had nodded once before he released you. Unable to help yourself you immediately fell against him, sucking hard, on the exact same spot.

Tommy had sat up immediately, spinning so his feet were on the floor and grabbing your upper arms. He dragged you across him, so you were positioned for a spanking before you even knew what had happened. “What are you doing?” You had asked, breathless with excitement and your awareness of his rock hard dick pressing into your side.

“Disciplining you.” He had said his hand already roaming your ass.

You had snorted. “What do you know about discipline Tommy? You’ve never met a law you didn’t want to break.” You had challenged.

With that Tommy seemed to have changed his mind, bundling you up as he stood before tossing you back on the mattress. His body immediately above yours, pinning you in place. However, his physical presence over you was redundant as you couldn’t have moved if you tried. Eyes both fire and ice, pinned you like a startled fawn.  

“Discipline and the law have nothing to do with each other, pet.” He had brushed your hair away from your face. “The law is rules imposed by others, discipline is the rules we impose on ourselves.” He held your gaze, looking for an indication you understood. You nodded. “It’s why you’re here. You love that I don’t follow the rules. That I do what I want. Yes?” He asked rhetorically as he nodded in agreement with himself. “And it thrills you that I have the discipline to stay in control. That I could take you in hand. You want them both. The gangster and the disciplinarian. Don’t you?”

You had never felt so exposed in your life. He was saying things you would have never admitted to yourself. Your heart pounding in your chest, you had nodded, your hand rising to his chest.

He had kissed your cheek softly before taking your hand in his, collecting your other wrist he pinned both above your head. “See you’ve always been a law-abiding girl, a nice girl.” He mocked pressing butterfly kisses against your neck with each word, his dick grinding against your hip. “But what you want, what you need is discipline.” He sucked hard on your collarbone, again you felt a bruise forming immediately.

“Yes.” You had moaned unable to stop the roll of your hips or the sigh from your mouth.

Tommy had grinned devilishly above you “Good. Once you agree to the rules breaking them will have immediate consequences. I will be judge, jury and executioner, there will be no trials, no defence.” He instructed.

You had nodded desperately, a shameful groan coming from you as you agreed.

“These rules will only be between us. You will learn that I will never punish you unfairly. But, only I can discipline you.” Tommy had insisted his hand had cupped your cheek as he spoke. When you had nodded he had kissed you gently.

 “Miss?” An unfamiliar voice drags you from your memory.

“Pardon?” You gasped trying desperately trying to gain some composure, feeling exposed, your cheeks flushed and your pussy throbbing.

“You need to get off the train, Miss.” The conductor said patiently.

“Pardon?” You repeated idiotically.

“End of the line Miss. We’re in Manchester. Did you not hear the announcement?”

“Oh, sorry.” You say gathering your things rapidly.

“Nearly got locked up in here for the night.” The man jokes as you double check you have everything.

The conductor helps you down to the platform and glancing up and down the deserted platform, you realise you are obviously the last to depart. You glance at your watch 11:30pm you sigh a little knowing that if Tommy has called you have missed him and he won’t call again tonight. You head out through the station house to the road, hoping there is still a cab available at this hour. You walk quickly, as much to warm up as anything else. It’s freezing.

On the street, you realise there isn’t a single cab. No-one daft enough to still be out unnecessarily on a night like this. You sigh, pulling your coat around yourself tightly and turn towards home. As you pass under the first street lamp a car pulls up beside you. You step back from the road cautiously. The driver leans across the car and opens the door. “Come on, get in.” You immediately recognise the voice as Tommy’s.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, climbing into the car gratefully.

Tommy reaches behind him and pulls a travel rug from the backseat, spreading it over your lap. “I told you I’d be here on the eighth.” He says brushing his gloved fingers along your jaw.

“I wasn’t sure.” You say quietly. “How did you know I’d be here?”

“You didn’t answer your phone. So I went to the paper and they told me you were on a story in Sheffield. When you still weren’t home at eight I came looking for you.”

“Were you waiting?” You ask nervously. You swallow hard. Waiting was against the rules.

You catch the soft smile on Tommy’s face in the flash of his lighter as he brings it to the tip of his cigarette. “Yes.”

You slide across the seat, head bowed not meeting his eyes. “I’m sorry for keeping you waiting, Sir.”

Tommy’s fingers lift your chin. “There’s no need to apologise. You don’t control the weather, and I should have called to confirm.” He says calmly, pressing his lips to yours. “I had hoped to surprise you for your birthday.” He continues. You can’t help the smile that creeps onto your face. “Did you think I’d forget, little one?” He teases his hand gripping the back of your neck.

You shake your head, not meeting his eye. “No.” You whisper.

Tommy’s fingers tighten in your hair “Don’t lie, you know I can tell.” He says tipping your head to look at him.

“Not, forget,” you begin “just that you had no reason to.” You explain, reaching out and running your hand over his chest.

Tommy places his free hand over yours. “Do you think I don’t care about you?” His gaze softens as he waits for your answer, you remain mute unable to give voice to your desperate hope that he did or to risk that hope being dashed for good. “You think because I discipline you I don’t care?” He asks again. Again you’re silent. “Hm.” He says turning away from you and starting the car. Tommy’s hands never leaving the wheel, yours never leaving your lap. Both your gazes fixed on the road. You drive in silence to your house.

As the car comes to a stop in front of your house you can barely breathe, a feeling of impending doom that he finds you too needy and will leave. “We’re not going to a hotel?” You ask, trying to keep your voice even.

“No,” Tommy says definitively. “Maybe tomorrow.” He adds as an afterthought.

Your heart drops and you begin to slide across the car to the door. “Goodnight. Thank you for the lift home.” You say climbing out of the car.

Tommy follows you to your front door, as it opens he catches your arm “I do care.” He says evenly, pulling you back towards him gently. “They are just games, a way of expressing ourselves, to feel good.” He takes your face in his hands, his thumbs caress your cheeks. “Does it make you feel good?” He asks holding you so you can’t look away.

“Yes.” You acknowledge.

“Good.” He kisses you, lips soft against yours, none of the usual urgency or dominance. “Because I do care. It’s important to me that you feel good.” You can hear the church clock chiming midnight. Your birthday. His arms wrap around your waist, hands gently holding your ass as he carries you through the doorway knocking the door with his heel to close it. “Let me show you.”

Enjoy this? Have an idea, headcanon or request? Send me an ask

Interested in my other work? Go to my MASTERLIST OR AO3 - twistedrunes

[traditionallymodernartist]

If ayano somehow is already in a relationship with taro and in the future is going to marry him what will the male rivals reaction to the relationship and marriage will they object it

I already answered;http://traditionallymodernartist.tumblr.com/post/155213111657/imagine-taro-and-ayano-in-a-relationship-and-areIts clear they would object, in the Wedding Reaction post only have how they feel and the possible actions that would get them kicked out but I guess I might wanna add something else:Also, in the relationship part, its either they found out or Ayano and Taro announced their engagement and are about to be married, as well as explaining it was all a surprise.Osamu will not approve of the relationship and would throw a very angry hissy fit for them having a relationship behind his back, Taro would just assume Osamu is upset for not getting the news of their relationship and if he does go to the wedding, he will voice out his objection, its like a speech but he's yelling. He will also say mean things and even humiliating ones just to show as many reasons (especially ones that are nonsense) that Ayano shouldn't marry Taro and his Ayano is too good for Taro. He will also break off his friendship and even go far as stomping over the altar and convince Ayano to break the marriage and choose him instead. There's a high chance of a fist fight.Anju will act happy and tell Ayano how happy he is for her and if he goes to the wedding, he will keep the objection to himself. Apart from the fact he wants to be her to be happy. He have reasons but he also blamed himself for being unable to confess, so that's the main reason he can't object.Kazuhiko, you might think he is being dramatic and flashy but he serious on this one. Not only he isn't happy but he felt betrayed for not telling him. He would also use Osamu's excuse about Taro being unworthy and why Ayano is too good for him. Only difference, he would challenge him to a duel with REAL swords (don't ask me where he got it, I like to think he does own them).Oboro will be shocked and fall into deep sadness, he cannot believe Ayano is taken and blamed himself for not being to tell her, if he goes to the wedding he voice it out but don't be surprised of the only one who hears him is his own butt, so everyone stares at him with raised eyebrows. He will curl in embarrassment. (I can't help it guys, this action is kinda like me when I was a kid)Akito won't say anything, either he did not attend or he is like Anju, if Ayano is happy, he will be happy for Ayano but he got depressed. Instead of objection, he will happily (forced) voice out how happy he is for them while he's crying and screaming from the inside. (I'm so cruel, WTH is wrong with me?)Masayoshi, naive and stupid as always, he will say what he had in mind and if he attends the wedding, he will get kicked out for his objection. Its like the wedding thing.Miusagi will begin to falter, he becomes self-conscious to himself and wonders what does Taro have that he doesn't, he ask Ayano if she is serious about their relationship and the wedding and that's where he falters. If he attends he will speak calmly but he emphasised the part of why Ayano can't be married and tries to ruin it as possible. Even goes far as lying about having a secret relationship. I didn't answer his reaction on the first post, sorry, it's that its really hard to think of his reaction at the moment.Okami is not only shocked and mad but also sad. He would of course try to sabotage the relationship but it won't budge, I do see Taro approaching and telling how much he really likes Ayano and that he is sorry and I can see Okami scaring Taro and Ayano telling him off. This is the reason he is overworking his brain of how he isn't good for her.Haruko would be shocked, angry, and become depressed. He would be so angry he would fight with his brother, Taro for not telling him (he calls it lying)Kami, like the wedding reaction, he have two reactions; he either says nothing or he would explain how much of a monster Ayano is.Bonus!Rookie Policeman would act happy and proud for them. Like Anju and Akito, he would never do anything to ruin Ayano's happiness even if it means sacrificing his. He would attend with a gift for the coupke and keep his objection to himself.Pair of twins would be shocked and unhappy. So they try to ruin it as much as possible. If they object, you would notice how childish and even selfish it sounds, all because they want Ayano.Another Yandere well, go crazy and kill people but that seemed very obvious and I think its Ayano's (possible) snap mode reaction, so I thought I make him heartbroken and dead in the inside to the post not he commits suicide or falls in deep depression and his life going to wrong ways.Magical Boy, I don't think I have anything to add anymore, I already have written what u have in mind for him.Shapeshifter, same situation like Magical Boy.Mido Gurin, like Magical Boy and Shaoeshifter, I have already written what I have in mind for him, so...Phantom Boy won't do anything actually, he is one who will accept her decision completely. Because he wants her to live her life and he thinks its hilarious for a girl to love a ghost. A bit lonely, he still does nothing about it. In the first Wedding Reaction, you have a choice, my choice is that he accepts.Incubus have nothing to say, he already discourages the relationship, let alone a wedding and would try to kidnap her but Ayano saying she doesn't love him is enough for him to get a broken heart. He would leave her back to her world or keep dragging her along. There's a possibility he would be heartbroken and be depressed or gets in a fit of rage, kill Taro and/or drag Ayano or completely change. I'm not sure about the change part because what I have in mind he would change he into a different demon if that's even possible.I'm sorry if this is late and this time I don't have an excuse, I didn't have the motivation until I began receive questions again, so, I answered to clear my drafts.