#< for posts shit writing it that doesn’t contain any story stuff

[dykebeckett]

finally overcame my place names block we did it joe

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet-Cute - Kid's Story - 8

Source for pic

Imperfect 8

Word Count: 4802

Tags and Summary can be found here.

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Notes: I'm so eager to share this chapter with all of you that I may be making a mistake by uploading it early! I only have half of chapter 9 written, and I was hoping to write a little bit more before posting this. But, hey, I'll do it! *singing* Besides, which you see, I have confidence in me!! Anyway, please enjoy the emotional whiplash you're about to experience with this chapter. Love you all! Small Warning: suggestive content, I don't think it warrants a specific NSFW, though.

Here's a Spotify Playlist I created for this story if you want to check it out!

Masterlist

You get a text from your dad saying he’ll be out for the day helping Makino’s niece assemble furniture at her new home in town, and that he might not return until dinnertime. He also asks if you’re alright and lets you know that morning chores are already taken care of.

Looking at the clothes you’re currently wearing - Kid’s - it’s actually a blessing he’s not home at the moment, or you’d have some explaining to do. 

The rest of the day goes by in the blink of an eye, and around five o’clock you stop by Sanji’s café to buy some donuts and coffee, not wanting to show up at the garage empty-handed. You can’t contain the tingle of anticipation or stop the silly smile from curving your lips when your car comes to a full stop in front of Kid’s shop. 

“Heeey, I brought sustenance!” you shout as you step into the garage. Your brow rises, and you set your stuff down on the nearest workbench before heading further inside. It’s all so quiet. No music, no curses, no tools rumbling in the background. 

And then you see him. 

Kid is hunched over another workbench. His prosthetic lies discarded in front of him, and he’s gripping the edge of the counter as if it’s all that’s keeping him from falling. Sweat dampens the collar of his shirt. His hair is soaked, and fat droplets of perspiration drip down his scrunched brows and heavy grimace. Everything in his posture, including the tautness of his muscles, screams pain and suffering. 

And it’s one you know and understand very well: phantom pain. 

“Kid,” you start, one hand raised as if you were approaching a wild animal. 

“Don’t,” he growls the word, and it hits you like a slap. He doesn’t even turn or open his eyes to acknowledge you. It’s like you can physically see the walls going up and all around him. Again. 

“Let me help–”

“Get the fuck out. I don’t need ya.” The poison in his words sucks all the breath out of your lungs. He’s lashing out.

“I can–”

His face snaps towards you, a feral growl shaking his lips as he grits his teeth. “No, you can’t! This ain’t a fucking novel, sweetheart. I ain’t some broken project for ye to fix! Ye can’t fix what’s irreparably broken! Get the fuck out.”

You try to swallow past the giant lump in your throat. His eyes are cold as ice, without a hint or a trace of the warmth he showed you in the morning. This is just another hurdle that you have to overcome. 

You want to succumb to the prickling of tears behind your eyes, but you can’t, because weakness won’t get you anywhere with Eustass Kid. He’s trying to scare you away.

He’s not going to fucking do it. 

“I’m not trying to fix you!”

“Bullshit!” Kid slams the workbench, and everything rattles with his fury. “Ye think just because we shared some nice moments, I’m suddenly fixed? That I ain’t fucked up? Broken? That we can have a fuckin’ happily ever after with birds singin’ and butterflies dancin’ kinda shit? It don’t work like that!”

“That’s not what I was–”

“Yer not the first pretty face that thinks she can fix me! And ye ain’t gonna be the last.” Kid snorts, and you bite your lower lip to stop it from trembling. “Guess what, sweetheart? Yer about to be just as disappointed as all of ‘em. Ye ain’t special!”

That blow stings like a cut in your chest. You take a trembling step back, averting his cold gaze, and shake your head. “Earlier–”

“Earlier meant nothin’!” His voice doesn’t even waver. “It was just a distraction, and yer a pretty distraction, I give ye that. But it ain’t happenin’ again. I don’t need this - I don’t need ye.”

The silence that follows is crushing. 

You finally look back at him, your chest heaving and chin trembling, eyes glazed with unshed tears you’re trying so hard to push back. You’re so angry at him. Rationally, you know he’s pushing you away again, too afraid to be vulnerable, too afraid to reach for help. Irrationally, though, it feels like you’re not enough.

And like you’ll never be able to reach him.

And then you see his eyes tremble, his teeth grit, and his muscles contract in torment. He’s drowning in pain, no matter how hard he’s trying to hide it. 

Raising your chin and fighting every instinct that tells you to turn around and leave, you walk past him. Then you fight another instinct telling you to throw a wrench at his stupid, stubborn head, grab the first aid kit, and take out the muscle relaxer cream, throwing it on the couch carelessly. 

“Sit on that fucking couch, Kid.” Good. At least your voice still sounds steady. 

“Didn’t ya listen to–”

“I don’t give a fuck. Sit. Down.” Your eyes harden like steel as you bore them into his. 

“I don’t want ye here,” his throat bobs, and you can tell that’s a blatant lie. One he’s willing to lash out for, over and over again, even if it makes you both bleed. 

“Tough shit!” you grit your teeth and shove him towards the couch. “I’m not leaving! You’re hurting, and I’m not going to turn my back on that. I’m not running away, Kid. You don’t scare me!” You shove him again, and he stumbles back, probably too stunned or in pain to fight back your advances. “It doesn’t mean I’m not fucking devastated by what you just said. I’m pissed and I’m hurt, but I’m not running away. Now sit the fuck down.”

He reluctantly sits, still unsure about what you’re going to do. When you sit next to him and start rolling up the sleeve of his shirt, he jerks his stump away from you.

“Don’t fuckin’ touch me!”

“Kid—” You reach again and he pulls away with more force than before. 

“I said don’t! Yer not seein’ this part of me, for fuck’s sake! I ain’t yer charity case.”

God! Why is he so infuriating? Why can’t he just give you a chance? A small opening? Something!

“I never said you were! I just want to help! Let me—”

“Don’t touch me!” He’s not yelling, but it feels pretty damn close. The intensity of his words forms more lumps and clumps in your throat, and your breathing comes out in ragged, hurtful gasps.

At least your tears are still safely tucked away.

You grit your teeth and will some command into your voice. “I will fucking touch you because it will help.”

“It won’t help!”

“You don’t know that!”

“I do! It never fuckin’ goes away! It’s here to remind me of how I failed ‘em! Fuck!” Kid drops his elbow to his knee, face buried in his hand. His shoulders contract and twist in agony, his whole body coiled in grief.

Silence spreads its tendrils around you again, sinking its claws into your chest, reminding you that Kid is indeed as broken as he claims to be. And that only makes you care for him more. 

“Fine. Maybe it won’t go away, but I know I can make it better. And I’ll stay with you through the worst of it. Even if you continue to be an asshole.”

You don’t wait for a reaction, don’t even allow him to reply. You just roll the rest of the sleeve up and get straight to work. Lathering your hands with the muscle relaxer, you start to massage the stump slowly, yet firmly. Your muscle memory is kicking in and reminding you how you used to do this for your dad, all those years ago. 

Kid flinches when your fingers touch the scarred tissue, and he looks away, seemingly too embarrassed for eye contact. But you don’t miss the way he lets out a deep breath after a minute or two. His shoulders sag softly, and his brows relax from the everlasting scrunch he has them in. 

You keep working the knots slowly, ignoring the way your feet are already becoming numb because you’re sitting on them. You’re too afraid to break this fragile moment.

Kid drops his head back to rest on the couch, and his breathing evens out. You don’t think he’s sleeping, but at least he’s relaxed enough for a small reprieve. Your fingers tremble for a small moment, your breath catching in your throat.

Before you realize or manage to stop it, tears start spilling down your cheeks. Just when you thought you’d made progress, that you managed to break down those stubborn walls of his, he pulls this stunt. 

His words hurt much more than you care to admit. Of course you’re not special. Why would you be? But that’s not even the point, you don’t have to be special, you just want him to let you in. To open himself to the possibility of something else. To let someone care for him, to allow himself to be cherished. 

It’s like you take one small step forward and two back. A never-ending, frustrating dance. 

It’s only when you feel his calloused hand on your cheek, wiping the trail your tears left behind, that you realize Kid’s eyes are open and he’s staring at you. Trembling, you stop massaging him, waiting for another outburst of hurtful words. 

It never comes.

He softens his gaze, working his throat and jaw as if he’s trying to free the unspoken words he has trapped there. His mouth finally parts, like he’s about to say something, but you beat him to it.

You don’t want to hear the wrong words now.

“Take off your shirt.”

His brow furrows, and he removes his hand from your cheek, leaving only cold and emptiness behind. 

“I need to work on your back and chest muscles, or the pain won’t go away. Take it off.” You lace your words with indifference and command, and he obeys for once; doesn’t argue or grunt in disapproval, just follows your request.

As he’s busy taking the garment off, you swiftly wipe your wet cheeks on your arms, erasing any evidence of your earlier weakness. 

You make him turn slightly to the side as you start working between his shoulder blades and neck. He’s stiff as a board, his muscles tight and tense from too many years of holding everything in his shoulders. No wonder the pain won’t ever go away.

After a long stretch of silence, where the only sound comes from his soft, relieved grunts, Kid speaks in a voice so quiet you have trouble believing it’s his. “How d’ya learn how to do this?” 

You pause for a breath, then answer. Your eyes never leave the junction of his neck with his shoulder, applying soothing pressure with the pads of your fingers. “Shanks.” Kid hums, and you continue.

“I was just a child when he lost his arm, around ten, I think. Luffy, our neighbor, had a habit of sneaking out of his grandpa’s house, and he would get into all sorts of trouble. This time it could’ve been fatal. Except my dad was there.”

You sigh. There’s much you don’t remember about your childhood, but you clearly remember the day your father was left bleeding out in the field while the ambulance was on the way. Your tiny heart beating out of your chest, not knowing if he’d make it or not…

“The plough was working in the field, and Luffy got in the way. Dad saw it and jumped in to save him. Lost his arm in the process. He used to have phantom pain all the time back then. Mom used to do this to ease him through it, and it worked.”

Kid hums again, so you know he’s listening. 

“When they started to fight like they had nothing better to do with every waking moment of their lives, Dad was too proud to ask for help, and Mom got tired of offering. I could see him trying to suffer through the pain with gritted teeth and venomous words.”

Kid stiffens, and you know he’s relating to that bit a little too much.

“So I took over Mom’s place and learned how to help. It became our own thing.”

You move a bit, leaning closer and pushing his back against the couch, focusing on the planes of his chest now, where the scarring is so visible and the scar tissue is pulled so tight, it’s a wonder he’s not in pain all the time. 

You can feel Kid’s gaze burning holes into your face, and you would give anything to know what’s on his mind. If he would just let you. 

Your thumbs work slowly, kneading the flesh carefully but with firm strokes. You can already feel how much less tense he is. 

His question catches you by surprise. “Don’t ye find it disgustin’?”

You stop and stare at him, but he avoids your gaze like the plague, his lips twitching and frowning into an embarrassed grimace. 

“Why would I? It’s part of you. It’s just flesh, muscle, and skin. It’s not disgusting.”

Kid tilts his head slowly, catching your eye for a moment before turning away again. You continue massaging his chest until he speaks again. 

“Ye should. I’m a fuckin’ monster.”

Somehow, you realize he’s not just talking about his physical scars. 

“Stop,” you state with finality. Reaching for his face, you force him to face you. “You’re not a monster. You’re not this ugly, unlovable creature. You’re Eustass fucking Kid.” That draws a small smirk from his lips, but it barely lasts. “You’re just… wounded.”

“I’m broken…” he rasps out, the shadows in his eyes spreading further, dimming its brightness.

“Yes, you are.” He jerks his face away, but you hold it steady, forcing your gaze into his. “And I want all of those broken pieces. The anger, the sadness, the pain, and all of the things you don’t tell me… Kid, I’ll take it all and share that burden with you. I don’t want perfect. I want you.”

He stares at you, his chest shaking with uncertain breaths, looking torn between wanting to push you away and to hold you against him. 

It’s a make-or-break moment, you can feel it.

So when he presses his hand against your cheek in a mimicry of his earlier gesture, you let out a relieved breath. 

“I don’t know how to be anythin’ else. I don’t know how to be… good.”

You cover his hand with your own, while you lower the other one until it presses against his heart, feeling it beat erratically, madly.

“Then we’ll learn together. You just have to let me in, Kid. That’s all.”

Kid’s gaze burns. He looks torn, restless, like he’s fighting a war he’s tired of losing. Maybe this time, though, he has too much to lose and he’s finally willing to risk it. 

You know you are. 

With a tentative breath, Kid’s hand finds the curve of your neck and climbs until his fingers curl in your hair. He leans forward, hesitates, and the world stops. He’s gonna pull away. He’s gonna flee again. I’m gonna lose him—

Then he exhales a trembling breath, pulls you gently and presses his lips against yours. It’s a stark contrast to all the other heated kisses you’ve shared. This one feels fragile and precious, just a whisper of a touch. 

It’s everything he can’t seem to say to you.

When he breaks the kiss and pulls you gently to his lap until you’re straddling him, his hand stays on your hip, its slight tremble, reminding you how delicate this moment is. You cup his face, and he closes his eyes, your foreheads touching for a moment while the weight of everything settles between the two of you. 

When his eyes meet yours again, it’s like you can see a crack in his walls. It’s slight. It’s small. But it’s there. 

“I didn’t mean…” he starts, stumbling over his words, brows scrunched so tight you fear they’ll leave permanent marks. “My words, I… fuckin’ hell.”

“Kid—”

“No. Let me get this out.” Kid sighs heavily, his hand gripping your hip harder and harder, his eyes still avoiding yours. “Ye are special. Ye are!”

A choked sob dares to climb its way up your throat, so you steel your emotions, bite your lower lip to stop its trembling, and caress his cheekbones with your thumbs in a comforting gesture. 

“Much more than that, I…” It’s painfully clear how much he’s struggling to share the extent of his feelings. His eyes meet yours, and there’s so much emotion in them that you understand all he wants to tell you, even without words. 

He really likes you. 

And it’s scary as hell. 

“Fuck it,” Kid mumbles, then his mouth claims yours again, and this kiss is a far cry from the tentative one you shared before. It’s all-consuming, it’s raging, it’s fire and desire melting into something hot and unbearable. 

Kid’s hand slithers below your top and up your spine, eliciting a shudder and a muffled whimper. You respond by rolling your hips against his hardened length, and my God, this just needs to happen. Your hands greedily map the planes of his pecs, scraping your nails hard across the same spot you had been massaging just moments ago.

Your top comes off, your bra comes next, and so does an unwanted thought: you’ve been here before.

Except this time, you don’t let any doubt cloud your judgment. Yes, you’ve been here before, but never has the intimacy felt so raw and vulnerable. This is it. 

Your lips collide again, and as you open your mouth to gasp when Kid rolls his fingers over your nipple, he claims your tongue. Your heart and soul go next, and you don’t even fight it. 

You’re his.

You’ll always be his. If he lets you. 

��I want ye… fuck! I need ye,” Kid drawls between kisses and licks to your neck.

“Then take me.”

And he’s about to. Kid’s fingers trail the waistband of your pants, hover over the button, and—

“AGAIN?” Killer’s outraged scream reverberates off the wall and bounces in an endless, indignant echo. Kid pushes you flush against his chest to shield your breasts from view. “I can’t believe I have to see this again!”

Killer’s stomping footfalls thud around the garage in an angry tirade, and a bottle of pills hits Kid on the head. He growls, but Killer is on a rampage.

“Here are your fucking pills! The ones you were in too much pain to grab! Forgot to ask for condoms too? Fucking shitwipe, there are locks on—” Killer’s angry gaze lingers on the spot you’re both on as he approaches.

Why is he approaching? Has he gone mad?

“That is a fucking communal couch. I take naps there, goddamn it! I’m gonna have to bleach the whole fucking thing!” An exasperated growl escapes his lips as he stomps past you towards the office. “Maybe I should just bleach my own eyes while I’m at it!”

The office door slams shut, and you and Kid sit in silence for a beat, too stunned to say anything at all. 

Then Killer opens the door again, hands pressed together as if in prayer against his bandana-covered mouth. “I’m sincerely fucking happy this—” he gestures towards you, “—is happening. But for fuck’s sake and Jesus’ balls, take it somewhere else! You fucking live upstairs, you moron!”

The door bangs shut again, only to fly open a microsecond later. Killer looks at you and tilts his head. “I ain’t mad at you, love. Just at the fucking asshole who can’t keep it in his pants. Now, if you both could kindly take that elsewhere so I can fix the car Kid towed earlier, I’d appreciate it very much.”

When the door bangs shut again, it nearly comes off its hinges. You can’t help but feel bad for Killer. He really didn’t need to see this. Still, the hilarity of the situation makes you muffle your laughs against Kid’s neck, in an almost perfect replay of what happened once before. 

Even Kid’s lip quirks into a small smile. “Fuck’s sake… that FUCKIN’ HYPOCRITE should keep his fuckin’ mouth shut! HE’S MADE OUT A MILLION TIMES on this couch before, so he—”

“NEVER WITHOUT CLOTHES ON!” Killer bangs his hands on the inside of the office door, and you keep giggling. “I SWEAR TO GOD, KID! If I sit my ass on something sticky or disgusting on that couch… I SWEAR TO GOD, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!”

“CALM YER TITS, DIPSHIT! Nothin’ happened!”

“I’M GONNA BURN THAT FUCKING COUCH!”

“THEN YE BUY A NEW ONE!”

“YOU’LL JUST DEFILE IT AGAIN!”

Laughter booms from your lips as you can’t hold it in anymore. The moment is long gone, but you can’t even be mad about it. Kid stops yelling at Killer and hands you your bra and shirt. When you’re fully dressed, his hand lingers on your hip, his thumb brushing soft strokes across your skin. 

“We can go upstairs… if yer still up for it.”

Hell yeah, you are. 

You’re about to reply with a teasing comment, but then you notice the slight sheen of sweat on Kid’s forehead. His neck is tense with pressure, and his stump twitches now and then. 

“You’re still in pain, Kid.”

You rise slowly, pick up the bottle of pills Killer brought, take two out, and place them in Kid’s hand, despite his barely-there objections. 

“Take the pills. Rest. We’ve got plenty of time.”

At least, you hope you do. It’s a feeling you hate, but unfortunately, one you’ve experienced more times than you’d like to admit when it comes to Kid. That hollow feeling in the pit of your stomach, always accompanied by a massive wave of doubt. 

Every time you walk away from a charged moment - whether sparked by desire or something far more vulnerable - you leave your heart in Kid’s hands. So far, you’ve come out the other end bruised, battered, but not defeated. 

But this time feels different. So maybe walking away is the right step.

Kid reaches for the water bottle you retrieve from the fridge, but instead of taking it, he wraps his hand around your wrist and tugs you gently until you tumble onto his lap with a soft chuckle. 

“For what it’s worth, I don’t want ye to leave.” Kid’s warm breath tingles your neck as he leans in to whisper those words to you. 

It’s all the reassurance you need.

But he still gives you more. Kid presses his lips beneath your earlobe, then along your jaw, and finally at the corner of your mouth, until you sigh, and he drinks it in like oxygen to a dying man. 

You’re glad his hand stays steady on your lower back, because without it, you’re sure you’d melt straight into the couch. There’s no strength left in any limb of your body. 

The kiss ends abruptly when he pulls back with a groan, muscles tightening. Your gaze softens, and you massage his stump for a few minutes while he takes the pills and downs them with water.

“The pills and lotion will kick in soon. Go to bed and rest, Kid. We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”

God, you don’t want to leave him. 

But you know he needs rest. And the worst is definitely over; he’s no longer at war with himself, no longer trapped in a maze of self-loathing and doubt. He just needs time and sleep to recover.

Which won’t happen if you stay. 

After a few more stolen touches, he lets you go, and you drag yourself away from him, somehow feeling lighter than when you walked in. The events took a turn you weren’t expecting, and even though they were painful and pushed both your limits, you can’t help but feel like barriers were overcome and walls were demolished. 

Now it’s time to rebuild. One step at a time.

-*-

“Is it safe?” Killer opens the office door and comes out with his bandana tied over his eyes instead of just his mouth.

Kid can’t help a disgruntled, although bemused, sound escape his lips. He’s reclining on the couch, his arm draped over his eyes, muscles taut, and eyes scrunched. The pain has ebbed from fucking unbearable to moderate.

And he has you to thank for it.

You, whom he insulted, pushed, and harmed with venomous words; you who took them with a raised chin and open defiance; you who poured your kindness, your goodness, and your warmth into him - someone so undeserving it should’ve driven you away immediately. 

You, whom he definitely cares more for than he should; you, who he cannot relinquish; you, who will be his downfall.

No. Lies.

He’s sure he will be your downfall. 

“How are you feeling, man? You were down in the dumps when you called. I could hear the strain in your voice.” Killer sits on the couch next to him, grimaces, and gags loudly before getting up and sitting on a stool instead. 

“The couch is clean, dumbass. We were just…”

“Making out like horny teenagers? Yeah, I saw. Oh, was that what happened? You were dying from pain, and she was performing CPR on your dying ass?”

Kid chuckles again. Dumbass Killer, always trying to lighten the mood and alleviate the tension. 

“I fuckin’ care for her, Kill.” Kid can’t face him, not yet.

“Well, duh! Haven’t we cleared that already? Because it was pretty damn clear when you returned from the beach date—”

“Not a date!”

“—With lovey-dovey eyes, swooning like a girl—”

“The fuck, man?” Kid finally lifts his arm to stare directly into Killer’s amused expression. 

“You more than care for her. And it’s alright to admit it. It’s not like your other arm’s going to fall off because of it.” Killer ducks when Kid throws him a wrench that was wedged between the couch and the arm of the couch. “Missed.”

Kid’s arm returns to act as a shield over his face as he lets out another groan. 

“I’m sorry I interrupted you again. In my defense, I didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to leave the door unlocked a second time, plus I really thought I was going to find you incapacitated.”

“It’s fine,” Kid slurs. The pills are starting to kick in, finally. He was close to resorting to more booze. “I… we better slow down, anyway. I ain’t aiming to do somethin’ stupid, so I gotta do things right.” 

He sighs and shakes his head. It’s so fucking hard to expose what he feels, to just get it out there. Why the fuck is it so fucking hard? With Killer, he can be truthful, he knows that, but still…

“That’s… actually wise,” Killer interjects with surprise. “Maybe my interrupting you was divine intervention.”

The bemusement in his tone is clear, but Kid can’t share the sentiment. 

“I stopped believin’ in divine anythin’ a long time ago, Kill. I ain’t about to start now…” 

Killer slumps in his stool, his back hitting the workbench where he supports himself with his elbows. His eyes fall to the corner where Kid keeps the army photograph. It’s already tucked behind an oil can, forgotten again, like it never saw the light to begin with. 

“They wouldn’t want—”

“I know what they want, Kill. I hear ’em. Every fuckin’ second of every fuckin’ day!” Kid gets up, his head feels light from the pills, and he really should take your advice and rest. But they are always there, he’s not lying about that. And their appearances always hurt the most once he starts enjoying himself, once he starts to believe he can be happy.

“They’re always blamin’ me, they’re always laughin’ at me! I know I fuckin’ failed ’em and I need to suffer for it! FUCK!” Kid kicks the couch and grunts in agony, but he welcomes the pain again. The one in his arm is already numbing, and he doesn’t exactly deserve a reprieve.

Killer rises, too, trying to placate his anger. “Come on, Kid, you know they would never do that. They would’ve forgiven you… They have.”

Kid swallows his anger and his pain alongside the rock-sized lump that suddenly forms in his throat. He doesn’t push it further. Killer wouldn’t understand.

“Aye. Whatever. I’m gonna lie down.”

He’s already stomping up the steps to his apartment, not giving Killer a chance to add anything else to this pity party.  Killer wouldn’t understand, but it’s not because he didn’t know them or wasn’t there; it’s because they’re his ghosts to bear, and Kid is the one to blame for their untimely deaths.

Tags: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @elysian-asphodel @daydreamer-in-training @iloveyoushanks @thegalaxysedge22 @kyllium @keiva1000 @chibinasuu @my-name-is-heartache @laidenbreecatchall @moldychefboyardeecan @dazzlingstarlight23 @bearg-bia @babyboofangirl @praline357 @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth @traffys-heart @cherileecore @violetmatcha @theloserqueen @mapachito @shamblespirate @ibuch7

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|Chapter 9|

[atotalpitch]

in line w your post about Insta caption; your headcanon about how each Bella uses emoji, what they post on social media and how they'd caption everything?

word count is 1,5k for this one who's surprised??? you genuinely cannot send me an ask and not get answer longer than the fics that i write sigh i kind of went off the rails a bit and forgot about the “how they’d caption everything” part of the question, but here’s a detailed rant of how each of them texts and uses social media:

Chloe: where do i even begin? i feel like she has auto-caps on and uses a shit ton of emojis, but for their actual purpose instead of ironically. she does not send a single text without At Least two hearts, and is definitely not a dry texter by any means. also, according to everyone she has ever been in contact with, she has a habit of sending ten texts in a row instead of just writing everything into one message, which is denied within four seconds of it being brought up. (“but it’s easier to read separate, short messages!” “it’s just how i would talk in real life, you know!”) she has two accounts on instagram, one which is public and one which is private. on the public one she posts aesthetically and has a theme which she strictly follows. the posts are mostly about cute animals she takes care of, or major events. private on the other hand? it basically contains her Entire life – all ups and downs included – and a shit ton of random pictures of Beca. it’s only followed by the Bellas and some of her closest family. twitter, facebook and tiktok (which she would never admit to having) are on a different level. what that implies is very much up for interpretation. she’s one of those pinterest users, and has a board for Everything. has regular meetups with Aubrey when they just gush over their pinterest feeds, dream weddings, etc. (whatever it is that those people do idk)

Aubrey: perfect grammar and punctuation, one emoji per message. a facebook mom, if you will. she gets teased for it endlessly but her response is always something like “why would i use texting for anything other than it’s purpose of informing others?”

if you bring up social media in her presence, she will scowl at you and let you believe that she absolutely despises every form of online contacting. however, she will go back home and sit on Her Armchair with a glass of fucking expensive red wine and go through every single one of your social media accounts from tumblr to linkedin (stalker much?). not that she posts anywhere, except for twitter where she just lets hell loose every once in a blue moon. she does have an instagram account as well though, but just for liking other peoples posts as she claims if someone happens to ask (despite her story always having at least twenty random pictures at any given time of the day)

Amy: … she’s, well, Amy. she texts with full caps or no caps, always with at least five typos even if it’s just two words. it’s Something, how she manages to do that every single time. she’s a tiktok emoji trend user (eg. skull for laughing) which confuses others (read: Aubrey, who isn’t on tiktok) a lot.

her social media is full of memes, random selfies, “inspirational” quotes that are more or less insane, and pictures of food. she, for some reason, went viral on tiktok and has like two million followers. (nobody knows why, which is probably for the better.) on twitter, she mostly just retweets crazy shit and thirsts over celebrities Very openly. then there’s reddit… yeah,, there’s reddit. she doesn’t really use other socials, but does have accounts literally everywhere.

Stacie: as i said in the post that inspired this ask, she texts like Alexis (her actress) writes her instagram captions. so basically just a lot of dragged out words, a bunch of emojis and abbreviations and that stuff. i don’t know to describe it, so. take that as you will. im not sure how many of you follow her anyway .

our girl is for sure, without a doubt, a tiktok thirst trapper. she does it unintentionally at first, but when she goes viral she starts doing it for fun (almost like a hobby). her comments used to be flooded by creepy men, but once she put the bi flag in her bio they seemingly disappeared and were replaced by the army of “#wlw? we won” people. Aubrey’s not too happy about her posting herself like that, but she thinks it’s whatever as long as Stacie runs every video through her (not in a controlling way. she’s just also one of those lesbians who drool over her.) Stacie’s instagram is also kinda similar, but with pictures instead of videos. they’re subtle and barely revealing for the most part, but she looks good in literally anything so she has a lot of followers anyway. that’s where her social media use ends, save for the private twitter account that she uses to bully the rest of the Bellas.

Beca: she texts in all lowercase, but decent grammar anyways. she’s not exactly big on emojis, but slips them in every few messages (she’s a chronic frowning emoji user, that’s for sure). i don’t know how else to describe her texting?? she usually doesn’t even reply with other than half a sentence or a barely coherent abbreviation

she’s famous, so her socials are mostly “official” and really, Really lack personality. naturally, she has private accounts which her closest circle of people follow. she doesn’t post though, mainly just replies to other people. (well, maybe she accidentally clicks post on random memes sometimes, but you really don’t need to know that.) Batshit Crazy Reddit User™ and will use it as a reliable source for anything. you can also find her at 3am doomscrolling on twitter.

Emily: oh god. she texts like she just got a phone and is generally as awkward as when talking. kinda like Chloe, she’ll send a thousand texts in a row in the same way she stumbles over her words irl. she spams people with only emojis, and doesn’t Make Sense most of the time. but she’s Emily, so they let it slide.

she’s not that big on social media (follower wise) but active? hell yes. she posts something every. single. day. whether its a mirror selfie or a cute flower she saw on her way to yoga (she does yoga. yeah. i know. crazy.) you can pretty much imagine Hailee’s insta up until like 2020 but double the amount of posts. there’s never too much filters or hashtags for her, and she unfortunately did not grow out of the 2013(-ish) filter phase. she unironically uses facebook and watches instagram reels, and nobody bats an eye anymore when she giggles and sends a link to a puppy video from the deep dark archives of facebook. any other form of social media she stays away from, especially twitter (she has an account but zero posts or replies). she does learn pinterest from Chloe at some point, so that becomes a big thing for her eventually though.

Cynthia Rose: she texts in the closest way to normal possible. she uses auto-caps, a decent amount of emojis that actually make sense, and abbreviations that everyone can understand. but she does have a middle-aged man edge to it sometimes. she’s an influencer. not that kind of “grwm to go shopping” one, but she fights for rights, talks about representation, and brings out the voices of minorities. she runs campaigns, interviews people, and activist type of stuff. it’s a good thing and she’s happy about what she does (even if she does spend all day everyday working for it despite doing it for free). but, sticking to the running theme, she has a private twitter account. her header is a lesbian quote with two pairs of scissors, and her posts are just plain Insane. she mostly uses it to bully Beca for literally no reason at all. 

Flo: texts like a wine aunt. that’s it. there’s no other way i can describe it.

she has an instagram for her juice truck, and it has a bunch of followers all around the world who are interested in watching her move from one place to another. she also posts tutorials how to make her juices at home (especially during the pandemic), and she’s basically sponsored by a million companies just because she gave them recipes lol. on her personal account, she’s also kind of an influencer too. she mostly posts about fashion and food, maybe sometimes stray cats that walk up to her on the streets when she’s going around with her truck. she’s not really famous famous, but has like 30k followers. i feel like i’m just gonna say the same for them all, but she also has a priv twitter account for the sole purpose of including herself in the crazy ass threads where all of the other Bellas are just, going mental. she’s also a pinterest / aesthetic moodboard tumblr girly methinks. 

Lilly: you can only imagine how she texts, if she even does. ominous as fuck. i’m leaving it at that because shes just so,,,,,, well you know.

she doesn’t use social media as far as anyone knows, and she barely has a working phone number. but if we are being real, does anyone really know anything about her anyway???

Ashley + Jessica: i have zero idea??? it’s hard to give personalities to characters whose names are barely confirmed. but i’m guessing they’re the most “normal” out of them all. you know, casual texting and barely posting anywhere. it’s odd. but they are still bellas and we love them. 

[mimicaz]

𐙚⋆°. RULES!

my blog will obviously have my writing; I do have a Wattpad account but I don’t plan on using it anytime soon again (i used to write for villain to kill but havent updated in MONTHS now). ill be posting a lot about jjk and sometimes rants and complaints (though I don’t do that very often anymore).

I reblog fanfiction every now and then, please do not follow me if you don’t want to see any fanfiction being reblogged for my personal library (sometimes the post I reblog may contain nsfw. so sorry!)

interactions;

im ok w/interactions and I don’t mind chatting! since I’ll be writing sfw material only, I’ll be ok with minors interacting such as wanting to be mutuals, requesting, or wanting to simply chat, and of course 18+ people r ok to be here too!

no hate anons.. or anons in general im sorry, I just really don’t want to deal w/hate anons that hide behind a anon acc. so sorry!

Dni: im not going to drag in politics on my blog (despite myself being political) but I do not want a single zionist here. racists. homophobes. basic stuff. pls don’t be mean I’m here to have fun before I become a victim to college for 13 years to be a forensic pathologist.

 𐙚⋆°. NO’S N OK’S IN MY WRITING !

I only write sfw, and I LOVE maki, so obviously I’ll be writing her the most (most likely), im here simply because there’s barely any to little work for Maki on a daily and so I also want to be writing for her :3. feel free to send in requests (ill most likely write anything as long as it’s not totally weird, ex of a weird request: write a fanfic abt reader sucking Maki’s left toe),

pls no fetish stuff like shit n piss n toes n armpits n stuff I beg.

I write when I want to but I’m usually always on my phone (USUALLY, I’m still a high schooler trying to graduate!), so pls be patient w/any requests but if I don’t end up finishing the request in roughly 2-3 weeks then I didn’t want to write it (im sorry gang.)

no nsfw

translations ok (pls give credit nonetheless tho)

no reposts on any platform besides tumblr

give me tips and corrections, im a writer but not a godly one. but no criticism.

no plagiarism pls pls pls my work isn’t even that good

I try my best to write for gender neutral stuff, but it’s mostly aimed for wlw, if I end up accidentally saying anything that relates to the female gender and/or body in my works then lmk, it’s an accident.

𐙚⋆°. WHAT/WHO WILL I WRITE !

Characters I’ll definitely be writing; Maki Zenin, Mai Zenin, Yuta Okkotsu, Yuji Itadori, Megumi Fushiguro, Nobara Kugisaki

Characters I may write (but don’t really catch my interest that well); Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Shoko Ieiri, Ryomen Sukuna, Toji Fushiguro, Toge Inumaki, and the rest of jujutsu Kaisen cast (unless said otherwise)

Characters I will never ever write; Naoya Zenin, Mei Mei (it’s ok for these two to be mentioned in a story and play a role in a fic; it just can’t be a Naoya/Mei Mei x reader story with romance and such.)

What I will write; basically almost anything, I love to write fluff, not so much angst— i don’t think I’m very good at writing angst, do not ask me for fics because I’m ass at writing fics— however I’ll be willing to write small scenarios split into different parts ‘ie: how [character] shows affection, how [character] kisses you’ and so forth.

What I won’t write; smut, fetishes, anything poop or piss related, pregnancy, yeah anything bad or uncomfortable are things I won’t write.

If you’re unsure if I’ll write something because it wasn’t listed here just pop a request in anyway, it doesn’t hurt to try (if I don’t end up writing it then oh well! I won’t hold grudges or anything anyway.)

[thikkiesixx]

Another Eddie Munson Fic Rec

This is my 3rd fic recommendation list, and i could probably make so many more.

Smut = *

May contain some Steddie fics, I cannot lie i love them.

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the "yes" policy ~ summary: After a lifetime of questionable decisions, you moved from the big city to the sleepy town of Hawkins with your best friend, and took the first job you saw: answering phones for the most boring auto shop in the dullest place on Earth. It wasn't exactly the adventure you wanted it to be.. but attempting to win over the jaded mechanic who insisted on ignoring your existence proved entertaining. im a WHORE for mechanic eddie, add single dad eddie?? nothing can get better than this. multipart fic! written by @pinkrelish

seeing stars * ~ summary: A new girl with a mysterious air to her and a questionable past comes to Hawkins. She’s armed with a gauntlet of jewelry and the sharpest wit Eddie’s ever come across. After a chance encounter at a party, Eddie becomes a bit smitten with her. The problem is, she’s an unreadable brick wall when she’s sober. Will Eddie’s attentive persistence help him break down the walls she’s put up to protect herself from not getting hurt? Or will Eddie be the one who ends up with wounds to hide? A story about learning lessons the hard way when it comes to letting people in. Vulnerability and honesty will always be rewarded. Even if it doesn’t feel that way at first. posting this one again bc honestly it is so good and i feel as if it is completely underrated. this author is so so good at writing and is also just a sweet person. PLS READ IM BEGGING. written by @boogiewrites

rumor * ~ summary: you share with Eddie, your older neighbour, the rumours you've heard about him. They might not be all fictitious... pretty spicy. eddie has a tongue ring and a dick piercing. written by @msgexymunson

i put a spell on you ~ summary: Eddie stumbles upon a house in the middle of the woods that contains something he never expected. What happens next is a lot of crazy shit, that takes him on a rollercoaster of emotions. But what he got out of it was a pretty great girlfriend and confirmation that magic was real, and badass. written by @farfromharry

simple rules ~ summary: eddie doesn’t have his life together any better than the next person, but for his daughter, he fakes it well. all he really needed was balance, but he wasn’t sure that even existed—not until you. im such a sucker for dad eddie. its so cute. will hit everytime. written by @munsonquinns amazing writer, their stuff never misses.

bad things *~ summary: You’re the head cheerleader and you fuck Eddie Munson in a bathroom at a Halloween party. written by @goldenbuckyyy

camera shy * ~ summary: eddie’s a popular camboy, along with your best friend steve. one lucky introduction manages to turn your life upside down, arguably, for the better. camboy eddie is near and dear to my heart. written by @munsonquinns

say yes to heaven * ~ summary: when you don’t know what to be for halloween, eddie gives you the perfect idea without even knowing it. he always calls you his angel, so you decide to become one and surprise him for halloween. the events that take place after he sees you are far from angelic and show the devilish side that eddie brings out of you. written by @lilacletter

love bites* ~ summary: eddie munson is super weird. he holds your hand too tight, he has a fascination with your neck, and he can’t give a hickey to save his life. good thing you’re super weird, too. vampire eddie. written by the amazing @luveline anything written by this author is simply phenomenal.

this town’s for the record now ~ summary: 'we’ve been friends since childhood, and I’ve accepted that we’re just not meant to be. I’ve moved on and encouraged you to follow your dreams. I didn’t know that your dream was me.’ written by @harringtown

pretty persuasion * ~ summary: You are the proud owner of Hawkins Records and have been for some years now, but dwindling sales mean that you might be forced to close the store that you love so much. Help comes in the form of Eddie Munson, former friend and frontman of a very successful band, but since the two of you hadn’t parted in the best way 12 years ago there is no telling what will happen when you reunite again. absolutely fuckin LOVED THIS HOLY SHIT. pls read. so cute. written by @serasvictoria

somethin unholy* ~ summary: steddie smut, her boys, their girl, it was time to give in. written by @upsidedownwithsteve

fuck me like you hate me* ~ summary: reader begrudgingly ends up crushing on eddie and she is forced to admit it to him in the middle of some very steamy hate sex. written by msgexymunson

rainbow lights ~ summary: A bad trip at your local bar has you seeking out Eddie Munson for help. And he'll be damned if he can't make you feel better. written by @retrobutterflies yall already know this author is so good. i think theyve been on all of my rec lists

the black cat* ~ summary: you and eddie are practically in love with each other, but don’t dare admit it. When the two of you run into each other at steve’s halloween party and he catches a glimpse of your costume, the dams holding back your guys’ pride, break. written by yeonjuns-beanie

do you wanna touch me?* ~ summary: When you and Eddie take a different route in the Upside Down, you come across a strange fungus that leaves you with some unintended side effects. i <3 sex pollen storylines. written by @chestharrington

headliners* ~ summary: Eddie Munson was famous. And an asshole. You were also famous. And a Bitch. You had both been reading each other's lives through headlines for the last five years, so then what happens when you both start to miss out on life milestones? THIS IS SOME GOOD SHIT. JUST READ IT. written by @sequincowgrrrl

forbidden fruit* ~ summary: something that is desired all the more because it is not allowed—you find yourself torn between the idea that even though eddie is in a position of authority as your professor, he’s still what you crave the most. written by @munsonquinns

the jar* ~ summary: Reader had a friends with benefits relationship with Eddie. Eddie finds the “hookup jar” after one of their nights together. written by @sweetyyhippyy

faster* ~ summary: Reader goes to watch one of Eddie's most important races but when a dangerous maneuver almost ends in disaster, she helps Eddie calm down in the only way she can. racecar driver eddie???? are you kidding???? thats so sexy. written by @pxrxcxa absolutely love this author omg

kaleidoscope ~ summary: after the death of your father, you and your fourteen year old sister move into the forest hills community. your neighbor, eddie, is very kind, very helpful, and very pretty. things between you and your sister are tense as you learn how to take care of her and how to allow her to grow. written by @newlips

i hate you ~ summary: You and Eddie Munson know exactly how you feel about each other. Until a moment changes everything and you embark on a journey of discovery about your relationship. written by @violetrainbow412-blog

made for lovin you* ~ summary: after years of silently pining for your best friend, you finally accept a date at your favorite dive bar. but things never go as planned, do they? alternatively, jealous eddie, too many whiskey shots, and a friendship shattering, almost confession that leads to some delicious smut. written by @xechowritesx

all i ever wanted ~ summary: Eddie has always been your best friend, the person you'd much rather spend your time with than going out on dates, but he swears he never wants to get married and likes to play the wingman for you, so you've come to terms with the fact that things will always just be platonic between you...or will they? written by @denim-mixtapes

friday the 13th ~ summary: you and eddie have a standing best friends date every friday the 13th to watch your favorite horror movies. after you get asked out on a date for the same day, eddie is worried you forgot about him. written by @satelliteddie

disjointed* ~ summary: Nurse!Reader is reunited with her high school crush in the emergency room. written by @boomhauer

this is how it starts* ~ summary: you’re an aspiring writer who gets a chance to interview the frontman of corroded coffin. he’s not shy about taking an interest in you. written by @chainsawmunson

no other will do ~ summary: You're home from college for the holidays. Eddie's playing a show and he wants you to be there. How can you say no to the boy you've been in love with since freshman year? written by @sanguineterrain

i want your video* ~ summary: You had to make your ex pay for what he did, to you and his former fellow Hellfire party member. There's only one person that can truly help you with that. written by @thefreak-thebanished

a special surprise* ~ summary: Reader surprises Eddie by wearing lingerie for him… for the very first time ever. written by @whoahoney

cherry stems and strawberries* ~ summary: When your brothers best friend takes you by surprise after a interesting movie night. written by @86-babyy

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do you guys like steddie??? bc i can make a whole separate post with just steve x eddie.

[cescalr]

For the WIP ask meme, "Percy Rebels And Shit AU; last year, nodus tollens, outline (2022)"

Ok, so;

Percy Rebels And Shit AU is a collab fic series idea between me and @vivithefolle, set in a No Boy Who Lived AU of Harry Potter, where Harry himself was never born. It's in it's early stages, mostly of planning and brainstorming. But as you can tell by the title, it focuses less on Harry, you know, not existing, and more on the ramifications of Ginny's first year at Hogwarts without him.

As in, nobody with parsletongue hanging around to open the chamber.

We open at the close; the start of the fic is set post this alternate year two, wherein Ginny succumbs, Neville and Ron are memory botched by Lockheart, and Dumbledore is scrambling with his allies to combat the fact there are now two whole voldemorts wandering around.

Our focal character is Percy Weasley, because the main actual premise of this fic outside the like, setting exposition, is that Percy gets disillusioned with the Wizarding World status quo and ends up radicalised by a group of disestablishment-minded individuals - an awkward collection of people from all sides of ww political spectrums only weakly held together by the singular goal of removing the acting government. Some of them are total anarchists, some of them are blood purists, some of them are ww liberal, some of them are statute abolitionists, etc etc.

In a sense, PRAU is a combination of standard HP AU trope ideas (no/wrong boy who lived, voldemort returns early, rebellion against the corrupt ministry, etc) and sort of... twists them 180 to the left. Squints at 'em and interrogates them. Looks at them and says, okay, but what would that actually entail?

But it's not cynical.

The problem i have with most of these AUs is not how edgy they get, though that's kind of the point - a darker take - it's how little faith they have in our protagonists. The Weasley family always gets the short end of the stick, and I don't think that's fair. Me and viv are especially sour on the treatment of Ron, as prominent and loud members of his Defense Squad, lol. The collab part comes in that i'm godawful at writing the kind of... well, almost slice-of-life-esque stuff needed for the non-percy side of things; Viv is the primary writer for Ron's side of the story, while I'm doing Percy. Ron's side of the story is more about the hope, the humanity - sure, Harry might not be here, but he's not the be-all end-all. He's just one guy. There's a whole society of people who wouldn't put up with Voldemort's shit knocking around to lob his head of, you know? Vive la révolution, and all. Just 'cause Harry never existed doesn't mean all hope is lost. Just because Percy starts down a bad path doesn't mean he has to end that way. Just because Lockheart fucked over Ron and Neville doesn't mean they're useless now they've got memory problems - they're people. And where there's people, there's always hope. I don't know. I just don't like how.... pessimistic a lot of WBL/NBL AUs are. It seems antithetical to the point of the whole thing.

obviously the entire outline is unshareable for spoiler reasons, but as for 'last year' and 'nodus tollens';

last year - currently the only actually written part. It contains what will probably end up being the summary on ao3, if/when we get this finished enough to post it;

'Last year, Voldemort returned, in the form of Percy's defence professor. This year, Voldemort returned, in the form of his little sister. And yet, the Ministry does nothing.' When family members die, it can start you down a path there’s no returning from. Percy Weasley knows this better than most.

As for Nodus Tollens....

Nodus Tollens: “The feeling that the plot of your life doesn’t make sense any more.”

In your life, there are many choices you can make. These choices range from what you’ll eat for breakfast that morning, whether you’ll wear black or teal-tinged black or maybe even silver-tinged black that day, whether you’ll re-read your favourite book or find a new one in the library, whether you’ll talk with Mother or go on a mission or, as it stands right now, whether you will live, or whether you will die. Regulus has this choice, and he must make it.

>;).

(As you can probably tell, there's A Lot going on here - and a lot that will have to go into it before it's anywhere near ready to share. This'll be a slow one, and likely won't show up properly for a while yet.)

thank u very much for the ask!

[lostinwildflowers]

Reverse AU with AOT Boys(Fictional Reader and Real Characters)

Erwin Smith x Reader, Levi Ackerman x Reader, Zeke Yeager x Reader, Eren Yeager x Reader, Reiner Braun x Reader, Bertholdt Hoover x Reader, and Colt Grice x Reader

Summary:

Word Count:1.1K

Warnings: EDITED as of 7/08/2021 to only contain slightly suggestive topics, otherwise fluff

A/N: Hello anon!! I hope this is what you had in mind😅 I only did 5 for each, just so I could get to everyone! Hope that's alright :) Enjoy! - Birch <3

Note: (Y/f)= Your fandom

Erwin Smith

~ This man is the ultimate simp. There is nothing about your character that he doesn’t know. He could probably recite every single word you’ve said in the manga and in your anime.

~ He loves your sass and personality, he thinks you are one of the greatest characters ever designed. Loves your backstory and baggage, it’s something he can relate to.

~ 100% reads fanfics of you. He likes to imagine soft scenes about waking up next to you and making you coffee.

~ Will slap a bitch if they insult your character. He is very protective over you, while his friends simp over your best friends figures.

~ He’s just a total nerd about everything that is you as a fictional character.

Levi Ackerman

~ Not quite the “Fanboy type”, but man is he knowledgeable on your character. He knows the small details of your story and plot, all of the choices you made with reasons behind each one.

~ He probably follows your voice actor on all of their socials, just to hear the voice that portrays you in your anime. Loves to hear other people try to talk like you on apps such as tiktok or youtube.

~ Doesn’t have a problem shipping you with your love interest, but when they mess up or break your heart, he wants to be the one to fix it. BUT HE CAN’T.

~ He will end up staying single because he would only ever want to be with one person, and that would be you. No one would be able to live up to you in his head, so he settles for being alone.

~ I feel like he would turn on your anime just to listen to your voice while he cleaned his kitchen or did laundry. Your voice grounds him and he doesn’t really understand why.

Zeke Yeager

~ He reads the mangas religiously. He likes the plot of your main story, and will go back and re-read just for the fun of seeing his favorite panels.

~ I can see him drawing or sketching fanart of you. He’s not a professional, but he will upload his better works to tumblr or pinterest. He tends to do line arts, as he doesn’t have to worry about coloring or clean lines.

~ He will argue with Eren on certain aspects of you or lines of dialogue you have said. “What do you mean you think she likes her best friend? She obviously is in love with the love interest!”

~ He totally writes fanfiction based on you and is a pretty big author. He’s known for his lengthier au fics.

~ LOVES to go to conventions with Pieck/Porco/Reiner. Drags them through all of the shops where your anime and manga are concerned. He’s so in love with your character and he can’t even deny it.

Eren Yeager

~ LOL the first thing that comes to mind for Eren is that he probably listens to audios of your voice with unholy thoughts

~ But for real he probably finds comfort in your voice talking. He lives for the soft inflections of your voice, whenever you are happy or sad. He keeps these thoughts and feelings to himself though.

~ Totally nerds out with Armin though. Deep into the lore of your story and side arcs, how you made your current allies and best friends. 

~ He reads dark content of you all the time and you can’t tell me otherwise. Get an f in the chat for any fluff, toss that shit out. He likes the angst and yandere/tsundere stuff on the dark side of the web.

~ Will repost and reblog fanart of your character, but let's be honest. He cannot draw for shit. But he loves to make gifs and aesthetic posts that match your vibe.

Reiner Braun

~ You are his comfort character, your voice and story soothe him whenever he is feeling stressed or overwhelmed by life.

~ I get this weird feeling that Reiner is really good at drawing?? Like is that just me?? He probably joins a discord server and shares his drawings of you on there. Everyone loves them and asks to make them their pfps or something.

~ You cannot tell me he doesn’t sing along to the intro of your anime. It’s god awful, totally flat and not in the correct key whatsoever. But he knows every word and that’s saying a lot. LOL.

~ Has to keep Gabby out of his room because he doesn’t want her to see all of the small gizmos and gadgets he has from your fandom. She one time broke his favorite bobblehead of you and he cried for a week straight.

~ He just enjoys everything about your character and what you stand for. You’ve always had a strong set of morals, so he really looks up to your character in that sense. Not to mention, YOU ARE GORGEOUS!

Bertholdt Hoover

~ He is totally the quiet fanboy!! His friends don’t really know that he’s into your anime that much. BUT HE SOOOO IS.

~ He likes to draw doodles of your face on the corner of whatever paper he’s writing on. He doesn’t think he’s that good until Reiner catches a glimpse and says, “Hey, isn’t that Y/n from (Y/f)?”

~ Conventions? Awe heck yeah. He loves to go to any and all conventions for your anime. He will dress up as your love interest, and HE FINDS A SOMEONE COSPLAYING AS YOU AND PRACTICALLY FALLS IN LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT.

~ He really enjoys the fact that you aren't like every other main character in the other animes he watches. You are something special and he really appreciates how you treat others.

~ In the end, major simp. He wishes upon every shooting star that he could be in your world, and that he could see you in the flesh. Baby boy better keep on dreaming.

Colt Grice

~ He is the ultimate simp and you cannot tell me otherwise. Colt absolutely kisses the ground under your hypothetical feet and would skip in front of you tossing rose petals if he could.

~ Most definitely has all of your mangas in physical copies kept on a shelf. No one except for him is allowed to touch or read them, and he constantly has to kick Falco out of his room just in case.

~ I feel like he is more into the manga than the anime, as the anime always skips his favorite parts. Don’t get me wrong, he watches every episode the second they come out, but he prefers this physical paper copy of you in his hands. It makes him think you are more real. Such a sweetie.

~ He doesn’t have many friends to talk to about you, as he is constantly surrounded by Gabi, Falco and their crew. He probably runs a fan page on Instagram or Tiktok and that’s where he gets his fill of talking about you.

~ Lowkey is only interested in people who look like you IRL, so all of his partners somehow resemble you. Falco constantly teases him because he can’t tell apart Colt’s lovers cuz they all look the same. LOL.

[raibebe]

Of needles and seduction

Genre: Fluff and smut Words: 15.2k Prompt: Johnny tattoo shop AU featuring best friends Yangyang and Jaemin Warnings: contains smut, Daddy-kink, size-kink, mentions of mirror-sex

A/N: This is very self-indulgent, I’m sorry. While I do have piercings myself, I know next to nothing about tattoos, so I’m sorry if anything is inaccurate. Also I don’t advise what some characters in this are doing for yourself. Just a quick special thanks to @burtonized​ who has listened to me ramble about this story and Johnny and helped me write this by giving me ideas and support. Thank you darling! This fic is a beast, I have never written anything this long,it’s insane. If smut isn’t for you, you can stop reading after the phone call and still have a pretty decent story. If you feel like, you’ve seen this post before, you might have. I deleted the original one because tumblr decided to delete it from the tags.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” You asked for what you felt was the tenth time in the past five minutes. “It’s going to be fine. The shop is clean and sanitary,” your friend Yangyang groaned while running his hands through his messy, blonde hair. It was getting way too long, hanging low into his eyes. “I’m just saying that this doesn’t seem like a safe place,” you mumbled but followed your hyper friend through a more than dubious looking side street of Itaewon. “Jaemin got his piercings done in the same shop and those healed just fine, stop being a baby,” the blonde said while rolling his eyes. He quickly checked his phone for the address of the (probably illegal) piercing and tattoo shop and took a sharp turn into an even shadier looking street. “I still don’t get while you need me to come with you when you want to get your nipples pierced for god knows what of a stupid reason.” “It’s easy,” Yangyang grinned at you, “Ten said I wouldn’t dare to do it. And I’m going to prove him wrong and you’re going to document the progress.” “Do you ever listen to yourself talk? You’re literally paying someone to stab you into your nipples to shove a piece of metal through it just to prove a point.” “It’s just one nipple though.” “How does that make it any better, Yangyang?” You deadpanned. Your friend groaned again. “I knew I should have taken Guanheng with me. He would have been supportive.” “He would also be supportive of getting ‘I love Tacos’ tattooed on your ass.” “He would,” Yangyang agreed with an exaggerated dreamy look on his face. “What a madlad.”

You sighed but couldn’t help smiling at his antics. You had befriended the hyper exchange student when you had been assigned to be partners for a group project for your mandarin class. Yangyang had only taken the class for extra credit and easy good grades while you were struggling like crazy and had seriously questioned all your life choices that had let to you taking the class. (But mostly you regretted listening to Renjun who had convinced you it would be an easy class.) The group project turned out to be rather easy when you had a native speaker as your partner and you had become fond of the younger student, staying in touch with him and helping him find his way around the big campus. If you had known that he was a package deal with a bunch of other equally hyper and questionably crazy exchange students, you might have thought a little longer about keeping in touch after the project was over. But who were you kidding, the other boys and Yangyang were incredibly dear to you and if Kun had his regular morning coffee, the others weren’t even that chaotic.

“That’s it,” Yangyang suddenly exclaimed, pointing at a small beat up looking wooden door that looked like it was ready to fall out of the doorway any second. But a little green neon sign that hang next to it flashed the word “open” onto the street indicating that a shop must be hiding behind it. Your arguably best friend quickly grabbed your hand as if he had been sensing that you were about to complain again and dragged you into the shop. A little bell jingled quietly when Yangyang closed the door behind you two. You took a deep breath to calm your nerves (hell you weren’t even the one to get stabbed with a needle) and took a look around the small room. It was small and poorly lit and every free space on the walls was plastered with drawings and photos of both freshly done and healed tattoos. You had to admit that whoever had done those had done a good job, they looked really neat. You guessed that at least two artists must be working in the shop. A good portion of the art were very neat black and white works (some looking freakishly realistic) while others were very vibrant and artistic.

With a confident bounce in his step, Yangyang went up to the counter to a man with wild bubblegum pink hair wearing a black tank top that showed off the ink on his arms and torso, all kept in black except for a deep red rose on the side of his neck. His eyes were lined with dark eyeliner, making them seem like dark bottomless orbs, and they were fixed to the screen of a laptop that was covered in stickers that were a wild mixture of cute characters and various rock and hip-hop bands. “And what brings you here?” The man asked with a surprisingly deep voice, turning his head towards your friend. “A friend of mine told me I could get pierced here,” Yangyang spoke, his hands fumbling with the loose threads of his sweater. “And if that was the case, what would you want to get pierced?” “My nipple.” At that the other man raised one of his perfectly arched eyebrows. “People usually start off with getting an earring or something.” “Go hard or go home,” Yangyang grinned, making the other man snort. “If you have 70.000 Won in cash, I can look if one of the piercers is free.” When your friend got out his worn wallet and put a couple of bills onto the counter, the other man smiled for the first time. It didn’t quite fit his whole dark punk aesthetic but you couldn’t deny that he was really good looking.

“Don’t run away now kiddo, I’ll see if someone is free,” he grinned, “I’m Taeyong by the way.” When he disappeared behind a curtain made out of pearls into the back, Yangyang turned towards you with the biggest smile on his face. “I told you it was going to be fine.” You just hummed nonchalantly, still not entirely supportive of the whole idea. “One of the guys is ready in a bit,” Taeyong said when he came back to the main room. “Are you getting anything?” He asked, looking at you. “Oh no, she’s a scaredy-cat, just here for moral support and to document that I actually did it,” your friend answered for you. Your face immediately heated up under the intense gaze of the pink haired tattoo artist. “Too bad,” he just shrugged. “So technically you need to sign stuff for legal issues and whatnot. But since this place doesn’t exactly exist on records, we’re skipping that part. You’re not on drugs or any meds, right?” “I’m not,” Yangyang shook his head, making his hair flop back into his face. “Any issues with fainting or other medical conditions?”   “Nope.”   “Great. Had a good meal before coming here?” “I had breakfast,” Yangyang shrugged. “You had a slice of cold pizza from yesterday,” you groaned. “That I ate in the morning, therefore it’s breakfast,” he argued. “Well in that case,” Taeyong interrupted your bickering and threw a granola bar into Yangyang’s hands, “Eat that and let your girlfriend treat you to some proper food afterwards.” Before the blonde could deny anything, you had already opened your mouth to tell the other man that in fact you weren’t dating.

“Sure, sorry for assuming,” he shrugged and sat back behind the counter, taking out an iPad and began drawing something, probably a tattoo design. “Nervous yet?” You asked Yangyang who was uncharacteristically quiet while munching on the granola bar. “Shit, I’m really doing this,” he replied, exhaling shakily. “You don’t actually have to, Yangyang,” you tried to comfort him. “And let Ten just get away like that? No way. I am doing this. I’m not his little baby Yangyang anymore,” he said like the stubborn child he was. You could just sigh and roll your eyes at him. “He might have just been joking, you know?” “One does not simply challenge Liu Yangyang like that and not expect consequences.” “Kun is going to actually flip and pop a vein,” you tried to reason with your friend for a last time. Kun was doing a lot of coordination work for the exchange students with a Chinese background and had taken on almost a fatherly role for the younger students that hadn’t been in Korea for long. And even though Ten wasn’t even that much younger than Kun, he almost lost his otherwise calm composure when the Thai boy had announced that he successfully had pierced his ear by himself yet again after he had convinced a poor med student to smuggle some equipment for him. And from there the situation had somehow escalated into Ten daring Yangyang to get a nipple piercing. “Well he can’t do anything about it once it’s done. We’ll just make sure he’s with someone who can call an ambulance if he ends up having an aneurism.”

“Someone still wants their nipple pierced?” A new voice interrupted your conversation and a tall man with dark inky hair came into the room, making the pearls of the curtain clink against each other. One side of his head was shaved while the longer hair on the other side framed his handsome face beautifully. He was wearing a loose black T-shirt paired with ripped jeans with almost as many holes as there was fabric that hugged his long legs perfectly, showing that he had also ink on his legs. From his lobe dangled a little silver chain and of course his arms were covered in intricate designs, one arm strictly black ink while the other sported some colorful pieces as well. In the center of his plush lower lip sat a black ring and just beneath his left eye two little silver balls were reflecting the low light. You couldn’t deny that the man looked absolutely stunning despite his unusual appearance.

“Yes, me,” Yangyang eagerly answered the man’s question and walked towards him, tugging you with him. “Too bad,” the piercer grinned cheekily and winked in your direction, making your heart flutter in your chest and heat rise to your face, before he extended a big hand to shake Yangyang’s much smaller one. “I’m Johnny,” he introduced himself before leading you both into a smaller room in the back with a simple black padded bench in the middle of the room and a desk tucked into a corner. The walls were plastered with art and photos like the main room, showing that Johnny apparently was able to pull off a bunch of different tattoo styles. He seemed to have a thing for florals and roses though. The only free space was taken up by a full body mirror at the opposite wall. Johnny sat down on the little stool that was standing by the desk and motioned for Yangyang to sit on the bench while you sat down in the only other chair in the room, made of worn looking black leather.

“Let me see your chest before we start this whole thing,” Johnny spoke to your friend after he had grabbed a pair of silver framed glasses that sat low on his elegant nose and slipped on a fresh pair of black gloves. With only slightly trembling hands, Yangyang pulled his sweater over his head, keeping his hands buried in the fabric. “Looks good to me. Left or right one?” “Ehrm, I haven’t really thought about it,” he confessed. Johnny chuckled. “Spontaneous decision to get your nipple pierced?” “He does it to prove a point to a friend,” you supplied before Yangyang had the chance to answer. “Seems like a valid reason,” the tattoo artist grinned, “You play guitar or anything where the strap could irritate the new piercing?” “Just the violin,” Yangyang supplied, demonstrating how he would hold his instrument. “Then I’d suggest we go for the left one,” Johnny concluded, grabbing a bunch of stuff he needed. “Is it going to hurt badly?” “No idea, mine aren’t pierced.” “The first one is fine,” another voice chimed into the conversation and a pink mess of hair appeared in the doorway. “My client is there and Jaehyun isn’t back from his break yet, have an open ear for the door.” Johnny just hummed but it seemed enough to satisfy Taeyong who disappeared just as quickly as he had appeared.

“You ready?” Johnny asked one last time. Yangyang took a deep but shaky breath and nodded. “You better film this so Ten knows it’s real,” he said, holding out his phone towards you. Rolling your eyes, you got up from your actually really comfortable chair and took the phone from your best friend’s hands while Johnny disinfected Yangyang’s nipple and drew two little circles where the bar would go through it before grabbing a small mirror to show him. “Let’s do this,” your best friend nodded and you pressed record. “It’ll be quick,” Johnny promised, disinfecting one last time before he grabbed a pair of tongs to hold the nipple in place and freed a needle from a foil package. “I’ll count to three and then I’ll start, alright?” “A-Alright.” “Last time to chicken out.” “No, I’m doing this,” Yangyang gritted out, closing his eyes. After that everything happened really fast: Johnny counted to three and steadily pushed the needle through Yangyang’s nipple, who bit his lip hard. He then let the needle dangle from the nipple while freeing a little barbell from another foil package to insert it through the canal he just had made. “And that’s it,” he announced when he secured the little balls on either side of the barbell. You ended the recording when Yangyang left out the breath he had been holding in. “Now no sports, especially no swimming or sexual activities for a while. Clean it well and don’t worry if it gets sore, that’s normal. It can take a while to heal, so be patient and don’t let it get infected. You can get a smaller barbell or a ring once it’s healed. Just come back to get it changed to be safe.” “Fuck I really did that,” Yangyang cursed and looked down to his chest, “I think I need a minute before I can get up.”

“Take your time, I don’t have any clients for another half an hour,” Johnny reassured him, putting the used materials into the trash. “Just please don’t vomit all over the floor or hit your head while fainting.” “That has happened before?” You asked, eyes wide. “Not on me but it’s not unheard of. You sure you don’t want anything?” he asked, turning towards you. His silver framed glasses had slid down his nose a little and you couldn’t deny that the man looked really hot, looking at you from beneath his lashes. “She’s too scared,” Yangyang teased. He couldn’t feel too bad if he still could do that then. “Too bad, I think you would really suit a little conch or something,” the piercer motioned around his own ear to indicate what piercing he meant. “A conch?” You asked, turning towards the mirror to try to imagine it. “Wait let me show you.” Johnny quickly got up to search through the drawers of his desk before he pulled out a little box with a bunch of jewelry, grabbing a small hoop. He stood behind you in front of the mirror. “Hold still for me,” he breathed and bend down to push your hair behind your ear before he carefully put the fake piercing in place. For a moment you could swear that time had stopped. You felt his breath fanning over your skin gently and could smell the intoxicating smell of his cologne. You were so close to each other, you were sure that if you turned your head, your noses would brush against each other. But before you could do anything stupid, Johnny pulled back and gently turned your head so you could see the little silver ring. “I think I could put an even smaller one if you wanted,” he said, watching you through the mirror with an intense gaze from his dark eyes. “I’ve never thought about getting a piercing,” you admitted shyly. While you did get your lobes pierced when you were a child, you never thought of it much. “It looks good. Not so much like daddy’s good girl anymore,” the piercer grinned. You almost choked on air when the words left his plush lips, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks.

“How much?” “For you I’ll do it for free, darling,” he grinned, running a hand through his thick dark hair, making his muscles shift beneath his inked skin. While your brain was still short-circuiting from the nickname, Yangyang seemed to be back to 100%, destroying whatever the atmosphere between you and the tattoo artist just was. “Are you really going to say no to a free piercing, dude?” You could just groan and roll your eyes at your best friend. “Stop calling me dude, Yangyang.” “Only if you get that piercing.” “That’s blackmailing.” “Just do it, it won’t even hurt right?” “It’s just a bit of pressure,” Johnny assured you, his lips curled into a smile. “I can always take it out if I don’t end up liking it,” you thought out aloud. “The beauty of temporary body modifications,” Johnny sighed before he stepped in front of you to take the fake piercing off again. With his face so close to yours again, your eyes traveled over the little silver balls beneath his left eye, over his elegant nose down to the black ring in his lower lip and you briefly wondered what it would feel like to kiss him. “So what will it be?” You looked over to your best friend who had put his hoodie back on and nodded his head enthusiastically, making his fluffy hair flop into his eyes. He really needed a haircut.

“Alright, let’s do this,” you decided. “That’s what I like to hear,” Johnny grinned and moved to get his stuff ready. “Need me to hold your hand?” Yangyang grinned when you took his place on the bench. “I wouldn’t want to contaminate you with girl germs,” you teased, sticking your tongue out at him. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind some girl germs if they’re coming from such a pretty girl,” Johnny cut in when he rolled back over on his stool, his glasses pushed back up his nose again. You couldn’t even fight the heat that crept onto your face at his words, he sure could feel it radiating off your cheeks from where his gloved hands were touching your skin. “I’ll do it where I placed the fake one, just with a smaller ring, alright?” He spoke softly when he disinfected your ear. You could just nod, anxiety taking over, making your heart race and skin prickle. When you heard the plastic bag that held the sterile needle rip, you pressed your eyes shut and balled your hands to fists. “Take a deep breath for me, doll,” Johnny mumbled, gently caressing your skin where he had grabbed your face to stabilize you. “In and out.” You shakily did as he asked you, his low voice comforting and calming your anxiety a lot. “Now you breathe in and let me count to three, then you gently release that breath. Can you do that for me, darling?” “Yeah,” you breathed, eyes still closed so you missed the soft smile on Johnny’s face. “Alright, deep breath in. One, two, three,” the pain of the needle piercing through your skin made you clench your fists harder, “And breathe out.” You tried your best to release the breath evenly until the pressure of the needle was just a low thudding. “You’re doing great, darling,” the handsome piercer reassured you, “I’ll just push the ring through and we’re all done here. Take another breath for me.” This time the feeling wasn’t as painful, just a really uncomfortable feeling of pressure. “All done, pretty,” Johnny concluded, clicking the ring closed. “Open your eyes.”

When you did open your eyes again, he held the little hand mirror from before in his still gloved hands so you could see the little ring that sat against your ear now. The skin was a bright red and you could feel your pulse throb around the metal but it actually fit the shape of your ear really nicely. “Thank you,” you smiled at Johnny. “It’s been a pleasure,” he winked before gathering the used needle and tissues to throw them away. “Take good care of it and try to not sleep on that side for a couple of nights and it will be healed in no time.” “Let’s go home, big baby,” Yangyang chirped in, already on his feet to leave the room. “I’m starving.” “There’s a good ramen shop a little up the street, not too expensive either,” Johnny recommended.

“Thanks for the piercings, man,” your best friend thanked the artist when he took you back to the main room. “No big deal,” Johnny shrugged and sat down where Taeyong had sat before, putting his long legs up on the counter. “Well, have a nice day, maybe we’ll come back for more some time,” Yangyang grinned, opening the door to leave the shop. “Oh I’m sure you will,” the artist replied, locking eyes with you before winking. “Take good care of that piercing, doll. You know where you have to come to if you want more.” You nodded shyly before bowing to the man. “Thank you, Johnny.” “I’ll see you again,” it wasn’t a question. Somehow you and him both knew that this wouldn’t be the last time you would step into the shady tattoo shop.

The next time that you found yourself in the shady streets of Itaewon came faster than you had thought. This time you were accompanying Jaemin to his tattoo appointment after Jeno had ditched him because he had to take over a shift at the cat café he worked at. (That poor boy had to take antihistamines before every shift because of his allergies but couldn’t resist the charm of the kittens.)   “You’re a lifesaver seriously,” the hyper boy repeated while jumping up and down excitedly, “Sitting still for hours on end is really so boring if you have no one to talk to.” “Can’t you talk to your artist?” You asked confused. “He threatened to stab me with the tattoo gun the last time when I was trying to talk to him while he worked,” Jaemin pouted. You could only imagine how irritating Jaemin and his moods could be to someone who wasn’t used to him. Ever since he had decided that he wanted to commit to what he had dubbed a soft punk look, he had been going to the shop somewhat regularly to start a collection of tattoos and piercings. It had started a year ago when he first had dyed his hair to a light blue color. Shortly after that he had first gotten his ears and then his nose pierced. The two lip rings in his lower lip were his newest addition as far as piercings went. The tattoos came a little later. After much consideration he had made the decision to start a floral piece on his arm, the center would be a hummingbird, all with black ink for now.

After a little bit of Instagram stalking you had easily identified the intricate flowers that adored Jaemin’s upper arm as Johnny’s work and the thought of seeing the handsome tattoo artist again had made your heart beat faster in your chest. Not that Jaemin needed to know that you weren’t coming with him for his sake but rather because of your desire to see the dark haired flirty man again.   You had been thinking about his dark eyes behind his silver framed glasses and how he scrunched his eyebrows when he was concentrating a lot for the last weeks. (Not that you had replayed the video of him piercing Yangyang an unhealthy amount of times or anything…) Every time you took care of your new piercing it reminded you of how his fingers felt on your skin and how his deep voice had gently guided you through everything. Not to forget how easily the pet names had rolled from his lips. And oh god his lips… His Instagram account featured a good amount of pictures of himself both casual and while working and the way his plush lips would curl into a confident smirk did things to your heart. His latest update had been the actual death of yours though. It had shown the new tattoo he had gotten recently: It was an intricate eagle that spread over his muscled chest, the feathers of the wings blending seamlessly into the other art covering his strong shoulders and biceps. Did you already mention that he was freaking shirtless in the picture? And that he was hiding a seriously ripped body beneath the wide T-Shirt he wore the last time you were at the shop? So to say that your thoughts had started to spiral after seeing that post was a little understated.

You still felt a little uneasy when you followed Jaemin through the backstreets of Itaewon but when the shabby door with the neon green ‘open’ sign came in sight, you felt the feeling disappear, only for it to be replaced with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. Jaemin grinned widely when he pushed the door open and his good mood was always infectious, a smile creeping on your lips. This time a new man sat at the counter, lazily rocking back and forth on the chair with his phone in his hand. His hair was dark and hung into his eyes and he wore a dark, long sleeved hoodie, so you couldn’t see if he had as many tattoos as his colleagues but if the tattoos on his hands and neck were any indication, he must be pretty covered as well. You recognized the rose on the back of his hand from one of Johnny’s Instagram posts. When the man looked up, you saw that he didn’t only have tattoos but piercings as well: In his lower lip sat two rings right next to each other, a ring dangled from his nose and two little silver balls sat in the hollows of his dimples that showed when he smiled at Jaemin. “Back for more?” He asked with a deep, rumbling voice and got up to greet Jaemin properly, bumping their shoulders together. “Got an appointment with Johnny for my sleeve,” the blue haired boy replied. “I see the snake bites healed well.” “Done by the best piercer of the shop.” “You know it,” the man laughed, throwing an arm around Jaemin. “Brought your girlfriend?” “I’m just a friend,” you quickly corrected the piercer. (Why couldn’t you just platonically join a friend for his tattoo session?) “Alright, just a friend, I’m Jaehyun. Johnny should be ready by now. You know the way?” Jaemin nodded and pulled you with him to Johnny’s room.

When Jaemin pulled the curtain to the room open, you weren’t prepared for what you were seeing: Johnny was standing in front of the full length mirror with his black button up shirt unbuttoned, applying cream to his still tender looking eagle tattoo on his chest, making his beautiful sunkissed skin glisten. “You’re early, Jaem,” he spoke. “Jaehyun said you were already ready,” the blue haired boy shrugged and plopped down onto the black bench. “Oh you brought company,” Johnny turned around when he spotted you and grinned, “I knew you’d come back, doll. How’s your piercing healing?” You had to summon all your strength to rip your eyes from Johnny’s strong and glistening chest to meet his dark eyes. “It’s fine as far as I know, doesn’t hurt anymore,” you stumbled across your words. Couldn’t he just button his shirt back up? “Let me see.” Before you could protest he had made two big steps and was right in front of you, the intoxicating smell of his perfume filling your senses. He gently tucked your hair back to have a look at the piercing and you swore you could feel electricity buzz beneath your skin where he had touched you. “You took great care of it, darling. Not regretting it yet?” “No, I like it.” I like you. The words had laid on your tongue but you managed to swallow them back down.

“Stop flirting with her, I’m the one paying for your attention,” Jaemin whined from where he was sitting. You of course immediately felt all your blood rush to your head but Johnny just chuckled. “I haven’t seen any cash yet, boy.” The tattoo artist gave you a last wink before turning towards his actual client, buttoning his shirt back up but leaving the last two buttons unbuttoned, letting the head of the eagle just barely poke out. Taking a deep breath you sat down in the worn leather chair while Jaemin handed Johnny a bunch of bills that the taller quickly counted. “Alright, I’m all yours for the next five hours or so,” he grinned, “You saw the drafts I sent you?” Jaemin nodded while he took off his jacket and rolled up the sleeve of his T-Shirt to expose the ink on his arm. It was already beautiful even though it wasn’t even halfway done. The hummingbird was still missing its shading and he hung in the air for now, the flowers and leaves stopping above its head. “Yeah, I’m still not sure about the color though. Can’t we just do more flowers instead?” “Sure but the inner arm and near the elbow is going to hurt like a bitch. So it’s either that or you let me color that hummingbird.” Jaemin groaned dramatically, turning his arm to look into the mirror. “He does look weird just half-finished like that.” “So color it is?” Johnny asked while rolling up the sleeves of his shirt a bit, exposing his own tattoos: A snake like dragon curled around his entire right arm, kept in all black ink. “I really liked that green-blue watercolor thing you sent,” Jaemin supplied when he turned to lie down. “Right, then I’ll do some flowers directly surrounding the bird and color that thing.” He snapped his black gloves on and turned to prepare his machine and the colors.

“Come closer with that stupid chair,” Jaemin whined, making grabby hands at you. After Johnny nodded, you pushed the chair closer with great effort. “Are you going to whine for the whole time?” You groaned but smiled fondly at your friend. “Most likely,” Johnny answered instead of Jaemin and rolled over on his little stool, his silver framed glasses back on his nose and a pen between his lips. “I’ll freehand a bunch of flowers first to make sure they fit around that little guy nicely.” “And I thought you liked putting others in pain,” Jaemin joked when Johnny adjusted a little lamp and began to draw flower after flower. It was really fascinating how quick his hand drew delicate petals and leaves, filling up the space around the hummingbird. “Oh if I put others in pain, they usually like it,” he grinned, his voice dropping an octave. You almost choked on plain air and had to try to mask it as coughing but if the way Johnny’s eyes twinkled was any indication, he had seen right through it and dared to be smug about it. “Wow my third appointment and we’re already talking about kinks?” “Sorry Jaem, not interested,” the artist laughed, “I’m more into cute girls.” He leaned back to examine his drawing, throwing you another quick wink. You barely held in a squeak. He really wasn’t even trying to be subtle about his flirting anymore. “Ready for the big gun?” “Oh dick jokes now, nice,” Jaemin chuckled while you were sure your head was about to explode from how much blood was collecting in there. You covered your hot cheeks with your hands in a hopeless attempt to cool them. “Oh look Johnny, she’s getting shy already.” “I haven’t even started yet, baby.” That was it. This man was going to be the death of you. You really didn’t need to know what it sounded like when he spoke those words that were dripping with honey. “Why did I agree to come with you?” You groaned, hiding your face in your hands. “Because you missed me”, Johnny said at the same time as Jaemin said: “Because you’re a good friend.”

After a beat of silence in which Johnny arranged his actual tattoo gun and Jaemin stared at you while his smile grew bigger and bigger, he asked: “Now which one is it?” “I’m not answering that,” you mumbled from beneath your fingers. “No answer is an answer as well,” Jaemin singsang but luckily the low buzzing of the tattoo machine saved you from any further embarrassment… For now…   “Now hold still or I’ll actually stab you,” Johnny warned before he dipped the needle into black ink and began to trace the lines he had just drawn on with a fine needle. “Yessir,” Jaemin joked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Johnny was unusually quiet while he worked, completely tuning out the chatter of you and Jaemin about shitty professors and assignments. You were absolutely fascinated by the confidence he radiated while dragging the needle over his client’s skin. He went back and forth between two different tattoo guns and rubbed Jaemin’s skin every now and then to get rid of excess ink. Soon Jaemin’s whole upper arm was decorated with delicate flowers and leaves and Johnny leaned back to both take a deep breath while stretching his back and to look at his work. “Let’s take a break before I do the color,” he proposed, wiping down the skin. “It looks great,” you complimented his work, taking a picture for Jaemin so he could see it himself. “Damn that pain really pays off,” your friend grinned, zooming in and out of the picture before posting it to his Instagram. “Does it hurt badly?” “You get used to it,” he shrugged, not taking his eyes from his feed, “It’s more like someone continuously scratching you.” “I can show you if you want,” Johnny chimed in from where he was cleaning his tattoo gun from the black ink. “I don’t think I’m spontaneous enough for a sudden tattoo.” “Not even if I offer it for free again?” He laughed. “I’m not mentally prepared for that,” you tried to reason. “I can still show you how it feels though. Without ink.” You shyly nodded and held out your arm for him that he quickly wiped down with disinfectant when he was done putting a fresh needle into the gun. “Just don’t flinch, darling,” he softly spoke before the buzzing of his tattoo gun filled the silence. You expected it to hurt a lot more when the needle touched your skin but it really wasn’t that bad. It was an odd kind of pain you couldn’t really describe. “It’s not that bad,” you told him, looking into his beautiful brown eyes behind his glasses. “It hurts more when it’s directly on the bone or at a more tender area,” Johnny explained and turned the gun off again, bending down to look at the slightly reddened skin of your arm before chucking the used needle into the nearby trashcan. “Let’s patch that up real quick, just treat it like any other scratch.” You nodded and let the handsome man put a band-aid over it. But before you could pull your arm back again, he leaned down to press a kiss on the cloth “For a good and quick healing,” he breathed and grinned smugly when you quickly turned your head away to hide your heated face.

“When you’re done flirting, will you finally put some color into me?” Jaemin interrupted, grinning widely. “That’s what she said,” you mumbled under your breath, making Johnny chuckle. “All you need to do is ask, darling.” Before you could even wrap your mind around what the tattoo artist had just implied, he had already rolled back over to your blue haired friend to take a look at the hummingbird. “Alright let’s do this,” he grinned before wiping down the skin once more. The buzzing of a new machine filled the room and Jaemin scrunched his eyes shut when the needle dipped in turquoise ink met his skin. “This is nasty,” he complained. “Don’t be a baby,” Johnny murmured, dragging the needle over your friend’s skin that accepted the ink quickly. “You want to hold my hand?” You giggled. What you didn’t expect was for Jaemin to actually reach out to you with his unoccupied arm, making a grabby hand. “Jeno always holds my hand,” he whined. “You’re such a big baby, Nana,” you sighed but still laced your fingers together, yelping loudly when Jaemin squeezed down hard. “You said it didn’t even hurt, you big liar,” you squeezed out between gritted teeth. “You’re not the one getting stabbed,” Jaemin argued, “That shit hurts different than the black.” “It’s a different needle,” Johnny explained, “People usually say it hurts less than outlines though.” “It’s not more or less, it’s just different.” “Well it’s going to hurt more if you keep seizing up like that, relax.” “You’re one to fucking talk,” Jaemin sounded upset. “Don’t curse at me for giving you a pretty tattoo,” Johnny just said, dipping his needle into the little pot that held the color again. “Talk him through it,” the artist said to you, looking up from behind his glasses that had slipped down his nose again.

“Hey, remember that time when Donghyuck was so drunk he wanted to jump from the roof into the pool at that frat house?” You quickly said, the silly story coming to mind first. The memory made Jaemin giggle. “Jeno and Mark had so much trouble holding him back once he managed to climb out of the window,” the blue haired boy chuckled. “They were lucky they didn’t fall off.” “That would have made for an even better story though,” Jaemin laughed. “They could have hurt themselves,” you said, scandalized, “You’re hanging out with Renjun too much.” Jaemin didn’t answer, instead he just hummed and wiggled his dark eyebrows.

“Did you ever go to college?” You asked Johnny out of curiosity even though Jaemin had said that the artist preferred to keep quiet and concentrate on his work. “Do I look like I went?” He just laughed, cocking one of his stupidly perfect eyebrows at you when he looked up. “Well, I didn’t want to assume,” you shied away under his gaze. “I dropped out of high school to learn tattooing,” Johnny shared while painting Jaemin’s skin as blue as his hair, “I wasn’t good in school anyways. So art school or something wasn’t an option either. Not that I would have had any money for that.” “What made you want to pick up tattooing then?” You asked curiously. “Art usually is very temporarily and if you make a mistake, you can just erase it or paint over it with another color. Not so much with tattoos. I like that. It’s immortal as long as you don’t start shooting lasers at it.” “I’ve never thought about it like that,” you confessed. Tattooing had never seemed like art to you but that was exactly what it was. Just not on a canvas but under your skin. “Thinking about getting one now?” Jaemin teased, squeezing your hand that he still held. “I haven’t even told my parents about the piercing,” you scoffed, “They would disown me.” “Well too bad, I know a pretty good tattoo artist,” he joked and poked his tongue out. “Do you now?” Johnny asked, a grin on his lips, wiping down Jaemin’s arm before going in with a lighter color. “Yeah, he works in this shady ass shop in Itaewon and I am pretty sure you can buy drugs there as well.” “Those are not for sale,” the artist chuckled when he saw your scandalized expression. “It’s just anesthetics for certain piercing procedures, calm down doll.” “So sadly, it turns out you can’t buy drugs at their shop but it still looks shady and I’m pretty sure they’re paying part of the mafia so the police won’t come to investigate.” “I know nothing of transactions of this sort,” Johnny commented before you could get an actual heart attack. Illegally tattooing and piercing was one thing but mingling with the mafia was a whole other thing. “Anyways, he does pretty cool tattoos and pierces as well,” Jaemin continued, a grin on his lips, “Also talking male to male here, he’s pretty ripped.” At that Johnny started grinning as well. “Wanna know his name?” Jaemin asked you when Johnny turned to clean his needle and you just rolled your eyes but nodded, wondering what he was getting out of all of this. “It’s Jaehyun.” “Excuse me?” Johnny exclaimed with wide eyes when both you and your blue haired friend started laughed at his stupid joke. “This kid,” he mumbled and shook his head before putting the needle back to Jaemin’s skin who seemed to have forgotten to whine about the pain.

The rest of the appointment was spend with you and Jaemin chatting about this and that and a short video call from a red eyed Jeno who had finished his shift at the cat café and wanted to apologize and promised to buy you two dinner after you were done. “I think that’s all I can do for today,” Johnny said after he had stared at the little hummingbird for a while, “Your skin took the color well but if I do any more, I’ll stress the skin too much. I can go in another time if I need to fix anything.” Jaemin nodded, sitting up so he could inspect the colorful hummingbird in the mirror. “Wow that looks sick,” he commented, his eyes going wide, “Totally worth the pain.” “That’s what I wanna hear,” the artist grinned, grabbing some paper towels to rub the tattoo down once more. “Let me snap a picture to post.”

After both men had taken about 20 photos each, Johnny quickly wrapped Jaemin’s arm in plastic wrap, reminding him how to take care of it. “Text me for the next session, I think we could fit some pretty roses at the bottom. Maybe add a dash of color here and there or other animals,” the artist smiled, slipping the glasses off his nose, gently placing them on the table. “I’ll think about it but first I gotta slave away behind the bar to make more money,” Jaemin sighed, shrugging his jacket back on. “And you darling?” Johnny asked, putting on his confident smile again. “When will I see you again?” You just stared at him, at a loss for an answer. Did he really want to see you again? But before you could even open your mouth, Jaemin had already pulled your phone from your grasp, unlocked it and shoved it towards Johnny. “Put your number in already,” he sighed and rolled his eyes dramatically. Laughing, Johnny did as your friend had said. “Very smooth, Jaem.” “I- I guess I’ll text you,” you stuttered when Johnny gave your phone back, your fingers tingling where his touched yours. “I’ll be waiting, darling,” he winked, raking a hand through his inky strands. “Alright, time to leave, before you start drooling,” Jaemin destroyed the intense atmosphere and grabbed your arm to pull you back to the main room and out of the parlor, leaving a laughing Johnny behind in his room.

“I wasn’t even drooling, what the fuck Jaemin,” you argued when you were outside, your phone clutched to your chest. “Stop complaining, I got you his number, you should be thankful,” he just grinned, absolutely shameless, tugging you along through the little street. “I will not thank you for embarrassing me in front of him,” you pouted, unlocking your phone to confirm that Johnny had indeed put his number into the contacts with a little black heart behind his name.

“Is it too early to text him?” You asked when you and Jaemin sat in the subway on the way to his and Jeno’s dorm to take him up on his offer for food. Your friend just laughed at you, making an elderly man scowl at the two of you, who shook his head in disapproval. Well, Jaemin’s visuals didn’t help him when he acted like this in public. But as long as he didn’t care, you wouldn’t care either. “Text him after we’ve eaten,” he advised you. “Then you don’t seem as desperate as you are,” he added, which earned him a punch to his not tattooed arm.

All through dinner, Jaemin retold every embarrassing moment that happened at the tattoo parlor, making Jeno laugh so hard that he almost choked on his rice. You really needed to find new friends. These ones were just harassing you at this point. (Aside from the fact that Jaemin had indeed managed to get you Johnny’s number, you’d thank him later when he couldn’t make fun at you.)

Later that night, you laid in bed in your own dorm room, staring at the screen of your phone. Your fingers were hovering over the keyboard but you really couldn’t think of what you should text Johnny. You didn’t want to seem weird. With how confident he was, he probably did this a lot and you were too proud to make a fool of yourself. Groaning you tossed and turned in your bed for a while, still staring at the empty chat box that by now must be mocking you for your cowardice. Sighing you typed out another short message to immediately delete it again. Should you just send him a simple ‘Hi’ or ask him if he had eaten? How the rest of his day went? In moments like this you whished you were more confident in yourself.

The sound of an incoming message suddenly filled the room and made you jerk. When you saw Johnny’s name on the screen, your heart first stopped for a second before it started beating about three times as fast as it should. How did that happen? With shaking hands you unlocked the phone to see that you in fact didn’t delete the last message but accidentally send it. Luckily it wasn’t as embarrassing as it could have been and Johnny had just answered that he was glad that you had finally texted him. Before you could think of an answer he sent another text asking you why you were still awake this late when he expected you to be a ‘good girl’. You could practically hear his smirk and you couldn’t fight the heat that rose to your cheeks. You replied that you were already in bed and were about to sleep if he was concerned about your sleep pattern that honestly wasn’t the greatest ever since the semester had started. ‘Oh, sexting already’ he replied, making you shriek in embarrassment. Was this what your message had looked like? ‘You alone?’ He asked and with a furiously beating heart you answered with a simple yes.

A couple of seconds went by with no answer from him which definitely didn’t lower your anxiety before the loud sound of your ringtone tore through the silence, Johnny’s name on the display. You quickly answered it to not wake up anyone on your floor, pressing it tightly to your ear. “Hello?” “Good evening, miss,” you heard the rumble of Johnny’s voice, “Missed me already?” “You’re the one who called,” you argued, making the man on the other end of the line giggle. “That is true.” “Why did you call?” You asked curiously, shifting to lie down on your back, staring at the ceiling. “Just wanted some company. My last client just left and I’m cleaning up the shop for today, the others already left,” he explained. “Jaehyun and Taeyong?” “Yeah those two guys,” he sighed and you heard him rummaging in the background. “Is it just you three at the shop?” “Yeah, it was just me and Taeyong at first but Jaehyun is an incredibly quick learner once he had found someone who was willing to teach him a thing or two. So he quickly joined the two of us.” You just hummed, your fingers playing with your hair, unsure of what to say. It was somehow easier to talk to him like this when you couldn’t see his eyes twinkle in mischief or his lips curling up in that confident smirk. Like this he was just a boy who wanted company and not an insanely handsome, heavily tattooed man who flirted shamelessly. “Do you usually work this late?” You asked to fill the silence and out of curiosity as well. If the shop wasn’t legal there sure weren’t any laws regulating how long the artists were supposed to work. “I don’t,” Johnny laughed, “But thank you for your concern. I was just tattooing a friend for free after my last paying client left because he was in the area.” “You do that a lot? Offering up your services for free?” “Just for friends and special people, doll,” he chuckled, “Why? Are you considering getting inked after all?”

Well were you? You didn’t even know at this point. Whenever you had thought of tattoos you had only ever thought about big bold and very black lines, of skulls, names of exes on your skin forever and warped pictures of people’s faces. But never of delicate flowers, bright colors and intricate designs. Johnny had made it obvious that it was art that he was doing and that it wasn’t just some technical procedure to get color beneath your skin. “I- I don’t know,” you confessed, “I never thought much about tattoos until Jaemin started getting them.” “I thought so,” the artist chuckled, “But I bet I could design a pretty piece that would compliment you nicely.” “I don’t think I’m the type for it though,” you argued, thinking about the amount of ink on Johnny’s body and you hadn’t even seen half of it. (Not that you planned on doing so but you were curious to know if there was more hiding beneath his clothes.) “It doesn’t have to be an obvious one. Just something only you know about.” That really got you thinking. His tattoos were really delicate and you had seen that he could write in really pretty cursive. “I don’t want to pressure you into anything, darling. But if you ever want one, you know who to ask.”

“Yeah, thank you Johnny,” you murmured, lost in thought about how you would look like with multiple tattoos. “I like the way you say my name.” “You- what?” You stuttered when he caught you off guard like that, making him laugh. “You’re cute,” he said once he had calmed down. “Stop pouting,” he added when you weren’t answering. “How did you know I was?” Johnny chuckled again. “I just knew.” “Thank you for keeping me company,” he said when you hadn’t said anything in a while. “It’s alright. I like talking to you,” you confessed. You could hear a door closing and his deep chuckle on the other end of the line. “You probably hear that a lot…” you murmured, embarrassed at how the words had slipped past your lips. “I actually don’t,” Johnny said, “I appreciate the words, darling. I’m all done cleaning up now, thank you for keeping me company.” “It’s fine, no need to thank me.” “You should go sleep now, it’s already late. Sweet dreams, doll. Maybe I’ll even visit you.” “Goodnight, Johnny,” you squeaked. The last thing you heard before he ended the call was another chuckle and a hushed goodbye. Smiling widely you turned your face into your pillow to muffle the scream you let out. How could this man make your heart beat faster like that with just a few simple words? And why did this short phone call make you so happy? Sighing, you put your phone to your nightstand and cuddled tightly into your blanket, the thought of Johnny’s smooth voice guiding you to sleep where he indeed did visit you.

After that initial phone call, Johnny called you more and more often. Sometimes when he was on his lunch break and his colleagues were still working, sometimes later at night when your head was spinning from studying and he was cleaning up the shop. You two talked about your days, you complained about professors, deadlines and assignments and he told you about tattooing and his sometimes crazy clients. And every now and then Johnny would bring up his offer to tattoo you. Which made your thoughts spiral every single time. In class you would scroll through Johnny’s Instagram account, imagining what some of the intricate, more feminine designs would look like on your skin. After much consideration you definitely ruled out anything big or colorful. But something small wouldn’t hurt, right? Well it would, you would be giving him permission to stab you with an automated needle a bunch of times which in itself sounded really scary. But Jaemin’s tattoo looked nice. And after his skin had peeled, the hummingbird truly looked absolutely incredible and you couldn’t wait for him to visit the shop again to keep working on the sleeve.

So in a whim of bravery and with the help of the little glass of wine you had drank you told Johnny that he should tattoo you. “Are you for real?” He asked. “I am,” you giggled, “I’ve thought about it a lot the past weeks.” “I am honored, darling. What will it be?” “Something small and no colors please,” you told him. “That’s all you’re asking for?” “Yeah, I… I like the simple black stuff you do,” you stuttered, suddenly really nervous and unsure if this was actually a good idea. “I’ll design something that’ll match you perfectly,” Johnny promised, sounding very eager. You could hear some rummaging on his end of the line. “I could fit you in Friday evening after my last client. It won’t be too late and I need some time to come up with a design that’s worthy of being in your body.” You swallowed dryly. If you said yes, you couldn’t back out anymore. You would be getting inked. Secretly. Without telling anyone. Not to mention illegally. In a reasonably shady shop that was owned by the most gorgeous man you had ever met. Taking a deep breath, you nodded before you realized that he couldn’t see that. “I’ll be there,” you promised. “I’m looking forward to it, doll,” Johnny said before he wished you sweet dreams just like every time when he called you late at night.

The neon light in front of the door to the shop was already shut off when you arrived the next Friday late in the evening but the door gave away when you pushed it open with trembling hands after taking a deep breath. “I thought you weren’t going to come, darling, you left me waiting,” Johnny greeted you, jumping down from the counter he had sat on. He was wearing a simple black t-shirt with a little white rose design over his heart that fit him perfectly. His hair was elegantly swept back, exposing the freshly shaved part on the side. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled, fumbling with the sleeves of your hoodie. “Don’t be nervous, I’ll take good care of you,” he promised, quickly locking the front door before taking you to his room where he motioned for you to sit on the bench. “Do you trust me?” He asked, tipping your head up so you would look into his dark eyes. “I- I think I do,” you stuttered. “I won’t tell you what you’re getting,” Johnny grinned and your eyes widened in shock. “You will like it and it’s not that big.” “I’m not sure, Johnny,” you voiced your concerns but he just pressed his index finger to your lips before you could say any more. Your breath hitched and he could definitely feel your shaky exhale against his finger. “You said you trust me, doll.” Taking another shaky breath, you nodded and a smile spread over his plush lips. “I need you to take off your shirt and lie down on your left side,” he spoke, his voice casual but you could feel something shift in the air between you. At a loss for words you just nodded again and did as Johnny asked when he turned around to gather his stuff.

“Take a couple of deep breaths for me, darling,” he instructed you when he rolled over on his little stool, his glasses sitting low on his nose and his hands already gloved. “It’s going on your ribs,” he told you so you wouldn’t flinch when he quickly dragged a razor over the area before disinfecting it. “I’ll draw a quick sketch first. I don’t want to mess it up when it’s going on your beautiful skin.”  You felt the tip of his pen meet your skin in a gentle stroke, tickling your skin so you had to giggle. “Don’t make me mess this up, baby,” Johnny scolded, playfully slapping your back. “It tickles,” you pouted. “I’m trying to be gentle with you,” he said and you could hear the smile in his voice. While he was sketching, you closed your eyes, trying to figure out what he was drawing. But all you could figure out was that it was something rather small which calmed your nerves a bit.

“All done,” the tattoo artist announced after a while and quickly pulled his little side table with his tattoo gun and ink closer. When the low buzzing noise filled the air, you pressed your eyes shut even tighter, balling your hands into fists. Technically you knew it wouldn’t hurt badly, Johnny had shown you before. But you were still getting stabbed a bunch of times and fuck, you were really doing this. Letting this man put something on your body that was going to be there forever and you didn’t even know what it was going to be. “Relax, darling. I’ll be as gentle as I can be,” he promised, running a hand up and down your back. “It’s going to be on me forever,” you said. “It is. Your own personal piece of art on your body. Just for you to have.” That was a beautiful way to see it, you thought. It’s not just some pigment stabbed into your skin but art. Something unique no one else had. And Johnny would be painting it on just you for you and you alone. “Okay, let’s do this,” you breathed. “That’s my good girl,” Johnny praised and the words made your stomach twist with a feeling you didn’t want to further explore.

The pain was bearable. It was weird at first and the ribs sure hurt more than it had on your arm and the bones somehow seemed to amplify the buzzing, making it travel through your body. You had to grit your teeth when Johnny went over what seemed to be the middle part of the tattoo, where he grazed the skin in quick successions. “That hurts.” “I know, baby. But you’re almost done. You’re doing so well for me,” he soothed and gave you a small break to breathe before he went back in.

“All done, darling,” Johnny announced a little later, turning off his machine and rubbing the tattoo down with a wet paper towel. “Can I see it now?” You asked. “In a bit, keep your eyes closed,” he spoke softly and took your hands in his now ungloved ones to first guide you into a sitting position and then off the bench and over to what you assumed to be the mirror. He turned you so your side was facing the glass and put one of his big hands on your waist. It felt hot on your exposed skin and made goosebumps break out on your skin. “Open your eyes, doll.” You did and looked directly into his dark chocolate brown eyes behind his glasses. “I’m too scared to look now, is that silly?” You asked, losing yourself in his eyes and leaning towards his body that just seemed to radiate heat. “It’s beautiful, just like you,” he assured you, squeezing your waist reassuringly. After taking a deep breath, you tore your gaze away from him and turned to look at yourself in the mirror where a delicate, black chrysanthemum was awaiting you on the skin over your ribs. It indeed looked beautiful, absolutely stunning. It was small but looked so delicate and realistic and fit well with the curves of your body. “It’s stunning,” you whispered.

“Thank you, Johnny.” “No need to thank me, darling,” he chuckled and when your eyes met again, his were dark and almost hungry. “But I think I should reward you for being so good while I tattooed you.” Before you could ask what kind of reward he was talking about, he had already connected your lips in a passionate kiss and pulled your body flush against his. You couldn’t help but sigh now that you finally knew what the metal of his lip piercing felt like against your lips. Johnny was a good kisser and you were boneless in his strong grip not long after he had slipped his tongue past your lips after you had moaned into the kiss when he had started to push you backwards to the bench again, hoisting you back up. “Let me make up for the pain I’ve caused you,” he breathed against your swollen lips when you broke apart to breathe.   “Just keep kissing me like that,” you demanded, burying your hands in his soft black locks to kiss him again. He chuckled and let you dominate the kiss for a while, toying with the black ring in his lip and exploring his mouth. Meanwhile Johnny’s hands started to wander from their place on your waist down to grope at your ass, pulling you forward against him, so you could feel his growing erection between your legs which made a spark of arousal shoot through you.

“Let me make you feel good, baby,” he breathed heavily while kissing down your neck, gently taking the skin between his teeth. “Please Johnny,” you begged, feeling the arousal simmer low in your stomach. Grinning he pulled back and raked his dark eyes over your figure before making quick work of your belt and sliding your jeans along with your panties from your legs, only shortly struggling with your shoes. “It’s not Johnny now, baby,” he rasped when he kneeled down in front of you, pulling you towards him roughly, so your glistening core was exposed to him. “It’s Daddy,” he added before licking a broad stripe through your folds and flicking his tongue at your clit. You could just mewl and throw your head back in pleasure. You didn’t know that this would be such a turn on for you. “Say it, baby,” Johnny demanded, lazily dragging his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves. “Please Daddy,” you whimpered and you could feel his low groan vibrating against your core. He wasted no time to attach his plush lips to your clit, gently sucking and grazing his teeth over the little nub, making you mewl and shiver in pleasure. He definitely knew what he was doing, altering between stimulating your clit to the point where it almost became too much before he focused on dragging his tongue through your folds, gently prodding against your entrance before it gave away. When Johnny moaned you could feel it travel straight through you, making your head swim with pleasure. Looking down to the man kneeling in front of you, you were met with his dark eyes, staring straight up into yours. Moaning, you threaded your fingers into his soft hair and pressed his face closer to your core, not even taking the chance that he could move back. “Feels so good, Daddy,” you moaned when he spread your labia with his fingers so his tongue could dive deeper into you, stimulating your velvety walls. When he hummed it send sweet vibrations through your core and you could feel your orgasm approach almost embarrassingly fast. “Mmmh, so close Daddy.” “You wanna cum, baby?” He rasped, his hot breath fanning over your clit that he was lazily rubbing with two fingers. You bit your lip and met his dark eyes, nodding furiously. “Then beg for it, doll. I could stay here for hours,” Johnny spoke before he turned his head to mouth at your thigh, gently biting and sucking at the sensitive skin until it bruised under his ministrations. “I would just keep you right on the edge for hours until you’re a shaking mess for me, begging for release.” His lips split into a wicked grin when he saw how his dirty words affected you and he slowed his fingers on your clit until it was just enough to keep you stimulated but not enough to make the knot in your stomach snap. “Please Daddy,” you whimpered. “Please what baby?” He rested his head on your thigh, looking up at you from innocent eyes as if he wasn’t driving you insane with just his fingers. “What is it beautiful?” He repeated the question, replacing his fingers with his tongue. “You wanna cum?” “Yes please,” you whined, grinding your hips against his tongue to get more friction. “Well if you ask so nicely…” Johnny immediately slipped two fingers inside you with almost no resistance from how ridiculously wet you were and began pumping them in and out of your core fast, crooking them to search for your sweet spot. “Come on baby,” he growled, locking eyes with you again when he closed his lips around your clit. Almost screaming his name, you came hard when his fingers finally found your sweet spot, rubbing at it mercilessly to help you ride out your orgasm. Your thighs were shaking and you fell back onto the bench, the leather sticking to your back where you just laid for a while, your head spinning, breathing heavily.

“You look gorgeous like that,” Johnny complimented you, when he got back up from the floor, raking his clean hand through the mess that was his hair before he shamelessly took his fingers that were covered in your essence into his mouth, sucking them clean. Through half lidded eyes you could see the way he was still straining against the fabric of his jeans and the sight made your mouth water. “You’re still hard,” you said breathless.   “I am,” he said matter of factly. You wordlessly let your thighs fall open for him, exposing your core to him. “Oh baby,” Johnny cursed, pressing the heel of his palm against his bulge, “As much as I want to fuck you right now, you still have a fresh tattoo, doll.” “Please, Johnny, I want it,” you begged. “Shh, baby,” he soothed you rubbing a hand over your thigh, “Let me dress that tattoo and then I’ll take you upstairs to fuck you on an actual bed like you deserve.” You nodded, amazed by his amount of self-control.

Johnny worked quickly and efficiently: Cleaning your tattoo one last time before putting some ointment on it to keep it moisturized. At last he gently taped down a small sheet of plastic foil to keep it safe. “All done, beautiful,” he spoke before pecking your lips, “You still want to come upstairs with me?” “Yes Daddy,” you answered and you swore you could see his eyes darken just from the word alone. “Hold on tightly,” he ordered before scooping you up into his arms, holding you up by your thighs. Squealing you quickly wrapped your arms and legs around him, holding on tightly. “I’ll get your clothes before we open up tomorrow,” he mumbled when he carried you through the back door of the shop that lead to a dusty staircase. You pressed your body closer to his, nuzzling your face into his neck where the smell of his cologne was the strongest, to have some of his warmth seep into your skin when you started to shiver from the cold air. Lazily you let your lips travel over his skin, sucking a mark next to a splash of ink.

Johnny quickly grabbed the keys to his apartment’s door from atop of the doorframe (not really safe) and unlocked his door while holding you up with just one of his arms, the display of strength making your head spin. With quick steps he crossed the way to his bed and gently laid you down on the soft sheets, immediately crawling on top of you, crowding you against the mattress. “I knew you would look good in my bed,” he rasped, kissing your neck while his hands made quick work of the bra that you were still wearing for some reason. “You’re gorgeous, doll,” he breathed after he had sat up on his knees, looking down at you with dark eyes, his big hands roaming your body. Feeling shy under all the attention and compliments he was giving you, you tried to hide your face behind your fingers but he wasn’t having any of it, quickly grabbing your wrists in one hand to pin them above your head. “Don’t hide from me baby. Daddy wants to see how much you’re enjoying yourself.” You could just nod, trying to force down the whimper that almost spilled past your lips, he hadn’t even done much yet and you were already feeling arousal pulse through your veins. “I couldn’t hear your answer,” Johnny teased, gently grabbing one of your boobs to massage the soft flesh. “Yes, Daddy.” “That’s my good girl,” he grinned, releasing your wrists to slip his T-Shirt over his head, revealing his strong chest where the eagle majestically spread its wings and the hard lines of his abs. “Like what you see?” He asked smugly, climbing off the bed to unbuckle his belt and slip his jeans off his narrow hips, revealing strong, muscled thighs. One of them was covered with the face of a growling panther while the other was decorated with a colorful koifish tattoo that disappeared beneath the fabric of his dark boxers that were doing very little to hide a prominent bulge. “Let me,” you breathed and crawled over to hook your thumbs into the waistband. But before you pulled them down, you pressed a couple of kisses to the cherry blossom branch tattoo that seemed to stretch from his back over his hipbone and further down, mingling with the koi tattoo further down. With every centimeter of skin you exposed, more ink from the blossoms became visible and you kissed every single one of the delicate flowers. When his length finally sprang free, you had to swallow dryly: His cock was huge and hung heavy between his legs. Licking your lips you looked up to him, to find him grinning down at you. “Go to town, baby.”

He didn’t need to tell you twice, you were itching to feel his heavy weight on your tongue. You pressed a sweet kiss to his tip before placing a hand at the base only to find him surprisingly soft as you experimentally pumped your hand once. “It takes a while for it to get fully hard,” he groaned when you moved your hand up and down his shaft a couple of times, feeling it pulse beneath your fingers. Damn if he wasn’t even fully hard, how big would he be if he was? Holding him at the base, you licked a broad stripe up the whole length before you swiped your tongue around the pink head, pulling another groan from Johnny’s lips. Taking a deep breath, you finally took him in your mouth and hollowed your cheeks, tasting his skin. The weight on your tongue felt just right and you couldn’t help but moan as you slowly started to take more and more of him until you felt him hit the back of your throat. Shit, you were barely able to fit half of his length in your mouth like this. “You’re so big,” you moaned when you pulled off of him with a wet pop, spreading your saliva down the shaft with both of your hands. Johnny just hummed and grabbed a handful of your hair to shove your mouth back onto his dick. He cursed when the velvety heat surrounded him again and gently began to thrust in and out your mouth. “Fuck you look so good with my cock in your mouth,” he breathed heavily. You could only moan where your lips were stretched around his length and hollow your cheeks when he pulled out, the grip he had on your hair keeping you in place while he snapped his hips. “Shit baby,” Johnny cursed when he pulled out, panting while he rested the head of his cock on your outstretched tongue. “I could cum like this.” You whined pathetically, looking up at him with pleading eyes. He chuckled and gently slapped his cock against your lips, smearing them with precum. “But you don’t want that, don’t you, baby? You want my cock inside you? Stretching you out?” “Yes Daddy, please. I need it so bad,” you blabbered, not even knowing where those words were coming from but you seemed to have said the right thing with how Johnny’s dick twitched in his hand.

“Then get on your hands and knees for me, baby. Ass up.” It was almost comically how fast you complied, baring yourself to him. “Such a good girl,” he praised, grabbing your asscheeks to knead and pull them apart. “Beautiful.” “Please Daddy,” you begged him, arching your back further. “Patience baby,” he chuckled. A frustrated groan got stuck in your throat and turned into a drawn out whine when he pushed two of his fingers inside you, pumping them quickly and curling them to find your sweet spot again. Soon two fingers became three and he had reduced you to a moaning mess with how he abused your sweet spot once he had found it again. “You think you’re ready for my cock, baby?” “Yes. Oh god, yes please,” you begged while shamelessly grinding back on his fingers that he had stilled inside of you. “Spread your cheeks for me,” he ordered while quickly grabbing a condom from his bedside table and rolling it onto his cock. Balancing your weight on your knees and shoulders, you reached around yourself to pull your asscheeks apart so Johnny could see your core clenching around nothing. “You’re such a good girl for me,” he rasped, running his palm along the curve of your body while lazily thrusting his cock through your folds, making it glisten with your essence. Finally you could feel him nudging at your entrance with the thick head of his cock. “You want it, baby?” “Yes please Daddy,” you gasped, trying hard to be good and not grind back against him. “You’re such a good girl for me,” he chuckled, “And good girls get what they want if they ask so politely.” With that he finally sank into you in one agonizingly slow thrust until you could feel his hip bones press against your skin. You had to screw your eyes shut and bite your lip to suppress a whimper. You had never felt so full before.

“Fuck baby, you’re so tight,” Johnny groaned, grabbing you by the dip of your waist with his big hands, grinding you on his cock. “I’m so full, Daddy,” you gasped when he slowly pulled out until only the head of his cock was inside you before he languidly thrust back in. “Yeah? You like that? Being stuffed full of my cock?” You could only moan and nod where your head was pressed into the sheets. His cock was so big that it seemed to press against every good spot that was inside you, setting your nerve endings on fire, the pain from being stretched like that only adding to your pleasure. “You‘re sucking me right back in baby,” he cursed and gripped your waist harder, pulling you back on his cock as he picked up the pace, low groans falling from his lips. Your moans got progressively louder and louder the faster Johnny snapped his hips. “Hands behind your back, baby,” he ordered panting and immediately grabbed both your wrists in his hands to use them as leverage so he could fuck into you faster, the change of angle and pace making you moan his name. Your head was swimming with pleasure and you could only moan and mewl beneath him, imagining how he would bite his lip while watching his dick disappear inside you over and over again, stretching out the delicate skin of your sex. “God baby, your ass looks amazing,” Johnny groaned, praise after praise falling from his lips that reduced you to a moaning mess.

With one particularly hard thrust he buried himself to the hilt inside you and draped his body over yours, his hot breath fanning over your face when he spoke, a deep rumble in his chest while grinding his dick right against your sweet spot that had you seeing colors behind your closed eyes. “Wanna see you bounce on my dick, doll. Can you do that for me?” Taking a deep breath, you nodded. Your ability to form coherent sentences had left you as soon as he had begun to fuck you in earnest. “You’re such a good girl,” he purred and gently pulled out, making you whimper from the loss. You felt the bed dip next to you and when you opened your eyes, you were met with Johnny’s pleased smirk as he leaned against the headboard of the bed, his cock resting against his hip, too heavy to properly stand up and you couldn’t stop another whimper. “Come on baby, I know you want it,” he grinned, crooking a finger in a ‘come closer’ motion. Dragging your limbs from beneath you with great effort, you climbed onto his lap, immediately claiming his lips in a messy kiss. You buried your hands in his stupidly perfect hair to mess it up and tug at the inky strands, causing Johnny to moan into the kiss. “Hmm, my baby is feisty,” he chuckled when he broke the kiss, the pupils of his dark eyes blown so wide that they seemed almost black. “But you promised me to ride my dick,” he reminded you. “And I’m gonna,” you slurred, reaching between your bodies to grab his cock, giving it a couple of strokes. “But turn around for me baby. Wanna see how much my fat cock is going to stretch you out,” he rasped, playfully biting your lips. “But I want to see you too,” you complained. “Oh you can,” he grinned and pointed over your shoulder. You reluctantly turned around before you saw what he meant. Right across from the bed was a big mirror and you gasped because of how fucked out you already looked. A couple of tears had rolled down your cheeks and messed up your makeup and your lipstick was smeared around your lips.

You carefully grabbed Johnny’s cock again and held it steady so you could sink down on him, watching yourself in the mirror until you sat snug on his lap and had to close your eyes because the feeling was so overwhelming. He felt even bigger like that. “You okay, baby?” He asked, grabbing your hips tightly to help you swivel them on his cock, making it press into your walls just how you liked it. “How does your cock feel even bigger like this?” You gasped as you leaned forward and slowly started to ride him at first to get used to his size and figure out the best angle for you. Your legs shook with the effort to keep your rhythm but the look Johnny had on his face, his eyes glued to where you two were connected, made it worth it. Suddenly a wicked grin spread on his lips and he snapped his hips up when you lowered yourself again, tearing loud moans from both of you. “Fuck, do that again,” you demanded when you raised your hips again. “What’s the magic word?” Johnny teased, holding you up so you wouldn’t drop down again. “Please, Daddy.” Groaning he started to snap his hips up every time you ground down on him, making your skin slap together with an obscene noise.

God you wanted to die on his dick. “Do you now?” Johnny laughed. Shit did you say that out loud? “Want to feel how deep it goes inside you?” He rasped, wrapping his strong arms around your waist. You went lax in his hold and mewled helplessly. Who knew that a little display of strength and a big dick were such turn ons for you that your brain was reduced to mush. Grinning he carefully pulled you up and against his chest and draped your legs over his after he had planted his feet firmly onto the mattress. “Watch, baby,” he ordered as he lifted you off of him until only the tip was barely inside you anymore before letting you drop down again. You mewled and thrashed in his hold, the feeling just on the edge of too much. Feeling him deep inside you was one thing but actually seeing it was a whole other thing and it messed with your head. Curiously you pressed your hand down on your lower stomach when Johnny had started to piston his hips up into you instead of dropping you down onto his cock every time and you swore you could feel him move inside you. A drawn out curse left your lips and you threw your head back onto his shoulder.

With the way he was snapping his hips up you could feel your orgasm approach at lightning speed and you were so far gone that you shamelessly reached between your legs to stimulate your clit. “Fuck baby, you’re so hot like this,” Johnny groaned, grinding his dick inside you as you quickly rubbed your clit, toeing right on the edge. “Please Daddy,” you cried out, not sure what you were even begging for. “You gonna cum on my cock?” He rasped, snapping his hips harshly, “Wrapped around my big cock stretching you out like this?” You nodded your head furiously, your eyes screwed shut. You were so close that you could already feel your toes curling. “Show me baby. Show Daddy how good his cock makes you feel.” That’s what pushed you over the edge, the way he was panting in your ear, his voice strained from how he was drilling into you. The coil in your stomach snapped and you almost screamed his name, your body curling inwards and thighs shivering as your orgasm washed over you, making a bunch of colors explode behind your lids. In the back of your mind you registered Johnny’s curses and how he was grinding his cock inside you to help you ride out your orgasm. “Such a good girl,” he praised when your body went lax on top of him, your chest heaving with heavy breaths. You briefly wondered if you had ever cum this hard and you couldn’t think of any other time. “Thank you Daddy,” you panted, turning your face to press a messy kiss to his plush lips that were bitten raw. He chuckled lowly when you whimpered when his still hard cock shifted when you tried to turn around.

“Will you let me fuck you for a little longer, baby?” He asked, running a hand through your sweaty hair. Instead of answering him, you lifted yourself off his dick to turn around on his lap, capturing his lips again. “Want you to ruin me,” you whispered between kisses, “Want you to ruin me for any other men. Want to only remember how you feel inside of me.” Johnny growled deep in his chest before he pushed you down onto the bed, hungrily licking into your mouth. “You’re the one who is ruining me,” he panted, rising to his knees. He quickly grabbed your legs and threw them over his shoulders before he sank into you again with a low groan. This time he didn’t waste any time with building up the pace and immediately snapped his hips harshly, chasing his own orgasm. “You’re taking me so well, baby,” he panted, folding your thighs to your chest so he could push into you even deeper, making you see stars with how he was nailing your sweet spot with the new angle. And even though you had just cum, you felt another orgasm build inside your stomach. A row of curses left Johnny’s lips when he could watch his dick slide in and out of you again and he gripped your thighs so hard you were sure you’d have bruises there tomorrow. But that was something you’d worry about later, right now your world was only made up of the handsome man with his huge cock that was currently rearranging your guts with how vigorously he was snapping his hips, making your skin slap together with lewd sounds.

“I’m gonna cum baby,” Johnny grunted, his hips losing their rhythm. “On me,” you managed to choke out, still lost in your own pleasure. Another groan left his bitten lips before he quickly pulled out and ripped the condom off, jerking his cock with quick strokes, his eyes fixed to yours. All it took was a couple of jerks before he threw his head back and you could see his abdominal muscles contract before the first burst of white hot cum spurted from his dick and covered your chest and stomach. With parted lips he stroked himself through his orgasm, milking rope after rope from his cock until he hissed with overstimulation. “Fuck,” he cursed before giggling when he saw the mess he had made of you, his cum dripping from your boobs and running down your stomach. He cursed again before claiming your lips. “You want to cum one last time, baby?” “Please Daddy,” you whined, spreading your legs further for him. “My good girl,” he sighed, sinking two fingers into your heat, quickly crooking them to stimulate your sweet spot while his thumb was putting sweet pressure on your clit, making you thrash beneath him. “You look so good covered in my cum,” he rasped before he kissed you harshly to swallow your moans and cries of pleasure. You desperately held on to his shoulders, breaking the kiss when your head was spinning from the lack of oxygen. While speeding up his fingers, Johnny began sucking bruises low on your neck and over the soft skin of your cleavage. “Shit, I’m gonna-“ you didn’t get to finish your sentence because right that moment he had sucked one of your nipples into his mouth which was just enough to send you over the edge for a third time that night, your lips parted in a silent scream of his name and your thighs shaking and closing around the handsome man kneeling between them. “That’s my good girl,” he praised breathily and gently rocked his fingers to help you ride out your orgasm before he pulled them out, instead winding his strong arms around your body, holding you to his inked chest.

For a while he just held you close, not caring that his cum was now also stuck to his chest. “Fuck that was a lot,” you chuckled, burying your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his calming scent. “Not what you thought would happen when you get a free tattoo?” Johnny softly spoke, carding his hand through your messy hair. “Not at all.” Another question was burning inside your head but you were too scared to ask it. You didn’t want to push him and ruin the mood. “I should clean you up and see if that tattoo is still okay. Then we can cuddle, alright?” The tattoo artist said before he detangled your bodies from one another to get up from the bed. He looked around on the floor for a cloth and you could finally see where the cherry blossoms on his hip were coming from. A big samurai was stretched over half his back, surrounded by the pinkish blossoms. It seemed like it wasn’t a complete piece yet, the samurai staring at the still untouched skin of Johnny’s left shoulderblade. “Your back tattoo is really pretty,” you mumbled to fill the silence while Johnny was wiping his chest clean before he gently did the same to you, taking extra caution when looking at your still fresh tattoo. “Thank you,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead, the metal of his piercing feeling warm on your skin, “We should change that foil real quick.” You just nodded and let him do his work, exhaustion settling into your bones.

“Do you do this with all your clients?” Shit. You hadn’t meant to ask that, the question had just slipped your lips and you could feel Johnny freeze where he was dressing your tattoo again before he secured the last piece of tape. He sighed and slipped beneath the covers, pulling you against his chest, so you could listen to his heartbeat. “Not all of them,” he answered eventually, “I haven’t slept with a client in a while. It happens sometimes but usually I don’t think much about it.” “And now you do?” He just hummed nonchalantly, playing with your hair. “They usually don’t come back after I fuck them.” He paused, holding his breath. “Will you come back?” Your heart started to race and you could feel a bright smile spreading over your lips. “For more free tattoos and piercings?” “Oh, yeah, I guess,” he sounded so deflated, the confident tattoo artist suddenly gone. “You idiot,” you giggled, pillowing your head on his sternum so he could see the smile on your lips, “I like you Johnny. I’ll come back if you want me to.” Now he was also smiling, his features softening. “Don’t make jokes like that, my heart is fragile,” he joked, wrapping you up in his strong arms.  

“Which one was your first one?” You asked him when the silence between you stretched while you traced the scales of the dragon that wound around his arm. “My first tattoo?” Johnny shifted around for a while before he showed you his other arm that had all kinds of different designs on it, some in bright colors, some strictly black. “That little guy over here,” he said with a smile on his lips and pointed to a little sunflower at the bend of his elbow, “To remind me to always look at the sun, at the bright side of life.” “It’s cute,” you breathed, touching the yellow petals. “And then it went downhill from there,” he chuckled, “It’s addicting.” “Let’s hope I can stay abstinent.” “What a shame, I’d love to cover you in my art,” Johnny confessed, tilting your face up so he could claim your lips in a kiss. “Maybe one or two more,” you breathed in between kisses, making him chuckle against your lips.

[castiel-left-his-mark-on-me]

Hi, Ary, very inactive ex-mutual(i think???) here. Good to see you thriving! ♥ It's been a while since I've dipped my head into cockles stuff. Could I perchance maybe ask uuuuum tf is going on??? lol I see Mish apparently confirmed he used to stay over at Jensen's in Van, and heard newbs were apparently freaking out about it and getting a bit messy, which I get that, business as usual. But I'm also seeing shit about spin-offs? And Jared getting in a twitter fight with Jensen, causing/resulting in stans to going feral and sending hate?? I know you're not as big a fan of Jar, but that's part of why I figured I'd ask you, you usually have a really level head about this kinda stuff. If you don't wanna answer publically, or at all, that's totally chill!

Hey, Rhi! We're still mutuals! Of course we're still mutuals! When I saw the notification of your ask, I was like "Hey! I haven't seen you in a while!" and my husband was like "???" and I said "Tumblr" and he said "Oh."

It was a wild time haha.

In any case, welcome back to the dumpster fire! We are obviously still a mess. So to catch you up, I guess I will start by summarizing both before and after the finale (not sure where you left off so this might be redundant for you) ... basically, it became obvious as the end of the show neared that Jensen was not on board with the plan for the finale; although Jared never stopped singing its praises.

We got confirmation of this during a zoom interview where Jensen said that he actually went into the writers room as well as called Kripke to basically voice how he didn't agree with the direction the final season was going, but he was shot down on all fronts. In another interview, he was asked "What would you tell your younger self going into this career?" And Jensen responded with: "I would tell myself to just keep your head down and do the work" meaning, "Don't try to change things because you can't." I also think that this whole situation is what he wrote "Let Me Be" about for his first Radio Company album, but that is just my own speculation. All of his reluctance, even though he always followed it up with "But I eventually saw the value in the script" or "I came around in the end" (which never sounded sincere, and I don't think he was really trying to sound sincere) made us all very nervous about what was to come for 15x20; and of course, when the last two episodes aired, we saw just how badly they fucked it up.

After the awful finale, the entire fandom became aware of the CW's heavy handed role in the thing, basically squeezing all the life out of SPN to shape it into a ramp from which Walker could launch itself. They not only erased all the love and joy and representation that Cas's love confession gave us, they also tore apart the things that made sense about the bond between Sam and Dean, making it really just about Sam-- and therefore Jared, which of course, Jared seemed to be fine with ... even though no one else was. Misha barely said anything during the finale, and a few of the other actors talked about the show ending in various posts, but Jared tweeted up a storm ... and Jensen? Jensen just sat in sexy-silent resentment of the whole thing. He didn't tweet, he didn't post, he didn't say a word once he no longer had to, and I think that's because he was already going full-steam-ahead on his plans for redemption.

Which brings us to Chaos Machine-- Jensen and Danneel's new production company that is being run by a queer creative director and has a mantra of inclusivity and representation woven throughout it's fabric; and apparently, the first story that Jensen wanted to tell through this new platform is the origin story of Sam and Dean's parents; so last week (?) he announced the upcoming production of "The Winchesters" -- the untold love story of John and Mary. Obviously, John is not the most likable character from the show, so the idea was met with a lot of resentment when it was first announced, but Jensen has gone on to say that he is excited to take on the task of telling the "true" story behind these characters-- the one that makes sense with the pre-established canon and doesn't reject it. So, given that, the idea is being mulled over with a bit more optimism from the fandom.

Who isn't being optimistic though?

Jared Padalecki.

When Jensen made this announcement on Twitter, many of his friends and coworkers congratulated him, but not Jared. Jared responded with a passive aggressive: "I'm happy for you, man, but I wish I didn't hear about it through Twitter." This of course, sent all the die-hard Jared fans into a tizzy and they immediately began asking him if he was serious (hoping it was just a joke-- we all hoped it was because there would be fallout no matter what one's opinion on Jared is). Instead of leaving it there though or just deleting that tweet, Jared went on to tweet some more, saying that he was being serious that he didn't know about the plans for the prequel, and that he was "gutted" that Sam apparenlty wouldn't be included (mind you, this a prequel to SPN... meaning BEFORE Sam and Dean were even born, so how could Sam be included? But Dean is apparently narrating this story so maybe Jared thought Sam should be helping to narrate it? I don't know). But Jared being Jared couldn't just leave that there, he then went on to tweet at Robbie Thompson who was announced as a writer for "The Winchesters" so then Jared went off on him too, calling him "Brutus" and a "coward" acting like Robbie betrayed him (speculation is-- Robbie refused to write for Walker, so Jared is pissed that he essentially chose Jensen over him). He did fairly quickly, remove that tweet attacking Robbie, but of course the damage was done at that point. And it truly only took his first tweet calling out Jensen for some people to be like "Jared-- that sucks if you didn't know but why are you saying any of this publicly?"

As you might know, Jared has had issues in the past with posting hurtful things on social media, and has even used it as a tool for attack before-- calling out customer service agents and public workers that he felt have wronged him, which is bad enough ... but for him to then do the same thing to his best friend of well over a decade? Many people who had once liked him or at least gave him the benefit of the doubt (I used to ...) stopped after this latest twitter tantrum.

However, some people have suspected for some time that J2 had a falling out either shortly before the finale or just after. Their public/social media interactions have seemed awkward, stilted or even non-existent in moments that they normally wouldn't be. In the past year, when Walker premiered, Jensen didn't say much about his friend's new venture other than a "Congrats. buddy" here and there. Later, we learned that Jensen refused to work on the show ... Jared said he make him do it, drag Jensen to the set "kicking and screaming" which made many fans quirk up an eyebrow because, why would Jensen put up a fight unless the two weren't as close as they used to be? And then Jensen moved his family to Colorado (either permanently or for an extended period at least) which is notable considering how he moved to Texas seemingly to be closer to Jared, even buying a house that was near his. All this was just speculation though; but it wasn't until Jared's tweet complaining about not knowing about the prequel that the theories behind them falling out, became less theory and more fact.

The day after his twitter tantrum, Jared tweeted again-- not retracting his statements or apologizing, but instead saying that he and Jensen "talked" and were "all good". Jensen then tweeted too, parroting this statement to some degree, which only made the whole thing even more sour in the mouths of the fans. The fact that Jared didn't apologize for his outburst and throwing his friend under the bus, and also the fact that Jensen-- Mr. Sexy Silence, Mr. Never Tweets, Mr. Tech-Ignorant-and-Proud, actually had to POST SOMETHING saying that he and Jared made up, it just screamed OPTICS. It was obviously the work of agents and PR firms and lots of people going "Look, if you two keep beefing, that will mean the death of both of your projects. Even more people will stop watching Walker, and this SPN prequel will never get picked up due to the scandal." So, the two "made nice" publicly to quell the chaos, but in my opinion, it's all too little too late. Jared started a storm that he can't contain now with a little tweet, and it seems like he knows that too because before he talked about him and Jensen making up, he asked that people "not send threats". He could have just as easily said that he shouldn't have made this a public issue and that he's sorry, but instead, he continued to play the victim and stoke the flames by alerting us all to the damage he's done.

Now, like I said before-- I used to give him the benefit of the doubt. I don't think he's an awful human or that he deserves to be attacked or anything, but he is an adult man with very poor judgment and an obvious selfish-streak a mile wide. He should know better, and he should have more respect for his so-called "friends" and "brothers" than to make them targets to public ridicule. I have a hard time believing that Jensen still sees Jared the way he used to, and I wouldn't blame him a bit for wanting to pull away-- especially when he's moving on to so many new and exciting things. Jared certainly deserves happiness just as much as anyone else, but he went on twitter and basically asked for a scandal, and he got one.

The question is now-- was there a motive behind it? Was just looking for a reason to bring his and Jensen's falling out to light-- while making himself looking like the victim in the process? Or did he genuinely not know about the prequel and just decided to go about "not knowing" in the most toxic and hurtful way he could manage?

In any case, that is the drama ... that is the J2 insanity in a rather lengthy nutshell ... that is the tea ... and I hope it all makes sense.

But the good news out of all of this is, Cockles is thriving-- they are happy and in love and Jensen calls Misha "Babe" and Misha misses waking up to see Jensen in the morning, and they are just as cute and wonderful as can be.

So, I will end that there. I am so glad to see you back, and I hope I answered all your questions in a way that made sense ... I tried anyway!

💖💖💖

[she-who-fights-and-writes]

How would one write a realistic argument?

How to Write a Realistic Argument

Everyone argues.

Whether it be with a friend, sibling, parent, or coworker—arguments usually break out whenever there’s a stark contrast in opinion over certain things, which can happen a lot.

There are a variety of different kinds of arguments involving a wide range of people with different tempers. Because of this, writing arguments can be a bit difficult, but fear not, for this post is here to help!

1. Know The Writing Style of an Argument

For a very serious argument, the characters probably won’t stop and listen to what their opponent has to say.

It’s quick, choppy, and broken—each character shoving their emotions at one another and trying to get their point across without bothering to understand the other side’s opinions.

There should be a lot of em-dashes and italicized words for emphasis, and if it’s between two people, you want as few speech tags as possible; because there’s going to be a lot of back and forth, speech tags can serve to trip up the flow of the argument rather than help them.

When you do want speech tags or if there are multiple people arguing at once here’s some examples you can use:

Roared

Screamed

Yelled

Bellowed

Barked

Hissed

Shouted

Accused

Interrupted

Growled

Snarled

Spat

Screeched

Shrilled

But you also must know that your characters won’t just be standing stock still and yelling at one another; they’re going to be moving around, so here are some things you can describe your character doing during an argument

Expression contorting

Eyes narrowing

Speaking through clenched teeth

Baring their teeth

Lips twisting (into a sneer/into a snarl)

Hands balling into fists

Trembling

Breaking things/knocking stuff over

Pointing accusingly

Shoving

Spittle flying from their mouth

Stamping their feet

Face getting hot

Vein in forehead popping

Blood roaring in their ears/heart pounding

And if you want, to build tension you can put it in a dangerous place, like at the edge of a cliff or something—so you know fully well that if one of them goes too far it may end up with the other’s accidental death.

2.Know Your Characters

The most important factors of your argument are the characters participating in it.

You should have your characters’ tempers established beforehand so you know if they’re going to be hanging back while others argue or if they’re going to be throwing hands every other chapter.

Your characters’ tempers will shape how much tension the argument causes.

An argument with someone who is usually chill and slow to anger will be a whole lot more impactful and important than an argument with someone who is a known hothead, but it wouldn’t make sense if the argument happened over something minor.

Here’s a list of some of the tempers your character can have, ranked from lowest to highest on how much tension an argument with them causes

 (Just so you know, these aren’t rigid categories; most people are usually a mix of everything!):

–Hotheaded Character–

Fights with a hothead hold the least tension. 

Hotheads will fight over anything and everything, their quick fuse making them easy to irritate and anger. Their words can hurt people who aren’t used to it, but usually bounce off of close friends who are used to it and know that the hothead usually doesn’t mean it.

Arguments with hotheads have a high chance of turning physical, because their rage explodes in bursts rather than a slow buildup (the definition of going from zero to one hundred), and in any situation, hotheads are usually the ones to throw the first punch.

 Because a hothead could get riled up about a spilled drink just as quickly as they can get riled up about a friend dying, just having a hothead getting angry during a moment of severe tension won’t bring you the umph that you’re looking for.

However, your hotheaded character can serve as an instrumental character in triggering more serious arguments, one of their mindless snide remarks going too far with a level-headed or shy character.

Examples of hotheaded characters:

Stanley Kowalski, A Streetcar Named Desire by Tennessee Williams

Lt. Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky, Top Gun (1986)

Anger, Inside Out (2015)

–Aloof Character–

These characters are a lot like hotheads, but the many, many fights that they pick don’t involve them getting raging, screaming mad.

They’re cold, calculating, and cutthroat, and they couldn’t care less about what you think of them.

Their anger is a lot less “loose cannon” than the hotheads’. They say what they mean and mean what they say, and it’ll take a long time to recover from the tongue-lashings these people can dish out.

The greater tension, however, comes from when the aloof characters raise their voices and start shouting—their schooled, uncaring façade fades away and they’re left truly and undeniably angered by whatever tipped the scales.

It’s not too tension-building because these characters were just bastards to begin with, but it’s still unnerving and shocking to see a normally collected character lose their cool.

Examples of aloof characters:

Mr. Darcy, Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

Prince Cardan, The Cruel Prince by Holly Black

Alex Stern, The Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo

Sherlock Holmes, Most Media Types

Tony Stark, The Avengers

–Nonchalant Character–

These people usually don’t engage in meaningful arguments because they literally don’t care enough to bother. 

When another character tries to pick a fight, a character who is more nonchalant will sometimes roll their eyes at whatever accusation is being leveled at them rather than retorting. This can go either way, perhaps escalating the tension or diffusing it by not offering up a reply.

Kind of like with the aloof character, they don’t have any emotional attachment arguments that they start or are dragged into. They’ll argue for the sake of arguing, but they really don’t give a fuck about it. 

The part that draws the tension, however, is when the characters do give a fuck. A fight they get into turns heated, and a character’s normal devil-may-care attitude may morph into something else altogether.

Most nonchalant characters also may exhibit some hotheaded tendencies, which shows how muddles these archetypes can be.

Examples of Nonchalant Characters:

Han Solo, The Star Wars Saga

Deadpool, Deadpool (2016)

Angel Dust, The Hazbin Hotel

–Level-headed/Stoic Character–

These characters are the cool cucumbers of the group. They’re very, very, VERY slow to anger, and usually exhibit more maturity than their peers, almost never starting arguments. 

They’re the masters of diffusing arguments with a few words, and hardly ever raise their voices.

Sure, they may serve as backup to someone else and may jump to their aid with a bit of heat behind their words, but this hardly happens when the argument is their own.

Many hotheaded or aloof characters may try teasing or pushing these characters in order to act out, but it rarely works.

On the few instances that a level-headed character is angered, it is pretty serious.

Either one of the other characters poked fun at something they shouldn’t’ve—their dead parents, something they’re self-conscious about, etc.—or a member of the group makes a terrible mistake with dire consequences, and the stoic character has had enough.

This causes a lot of tension because “oh shit, the calmest person in our group just went off” and can usually signal a breakdown of the group because their strongest link is snapping.

Examples of Stoic Characters:

Geralt of Rivia, The Witcher

The Mandalorian, The Mandalorian

Spock, Star Trek

The Doctor, Doctor Who

Atticus Finch, To Kill A Mockingbird

–Timid/Shy/Quiet Character– 

An argument with a timid person causes by far the most tension out of everything, to the point where I call it “The Snap.”

Someone who is timid, shy, or quiet would rather not argue at all because they don’t have it in them to retort.

They may care a whole lot about the situation under contention, but for one reason or another they don’t want to start too much trouble. These people actively avoid conflict and usually try their best to diffuse situations before they start, whether it be by conceding, walking away, or pulling the nonchalant route and not saying anything.

However, unlike the stoic characters, they might be much more emotional; it wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for a timid character to cry when being berated by the others, and they may even be outwardly livid, but they always back down in the end.

 However, they can only hold it in for so long.

 If you have a character who spends the entire book meekly accepting the verbal (or perhaps physical) harassment of other characters, you should most definitely put a “Snap” somewhere in the story, a point where the character has had enough and fights back.

 The timid character’s pent-up rage and sorrow explodes into a raging argument that will most definitely frighten the other characters.

 The tipping point may be the death of the loved one or just a simple, ordinary jab from an antagonist—the straw that broke the camel’s back.

 Unlike with the hothead’s quick bursts of anger like snap fireworks, the anger of a quiet character—much like with a stoic character—is like ten thousand pounds of dynamite with a very, very long fuse.

A quiet character will almost never have a contained argument once they’ve snapped; it will be like a category five hurricane, and God help the poor bastard that set it off.

Examples of timid/shy/quiet characters:

Carrie White, Carrie by Stephen King

Amélie Poulain,  Amélie (2001)

Bilbo Baggins, The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkein

3. Know The Rhythm of An Argument

An argument isn’t just 0 to 100 and then back to 0. 

The tension levels look more like a squiggly line than a single spike; the tension peaks and ebbs on various levels throughout an argument, especially if it’s a long, important one where both characters are snapping over a novel’s worth of building tension.

The argument can come in like a freight train or it can build up slowly, a character storming in after a realization or a single snide remark that snowballs into something much greater.

Then comes an accusation. Both characters brace themselves and realize that this argument isn’t just going to putter out.

More back and forth words exchanged. “I don’t like that you do this, this and this,” while the characters’ tempers flare even further, pushing them to say more extreme, hurtful things and working each other up into a rage.

A physical fight may break out between the two, throwing punches and insults.

The climax should be a huge, shocking exclamation or accusation. “I hate you!” “If you were never born, Mom would still be alive!” “This is all your fault!”

The tension ebbs. The characters stand in silence, bitter and ashamed of themselves.

They may agree on a few things, their tempers start to die down. They may come to some understandings or storm off with the tension unresolved. The argument ends.

This is the basic format of an argument; however, there are usually several levels of accusation-buildup before the eventual climax.

The whole point of an argument is that it leaves the characters’ relationships much different than they’d been before; they either understand each other much more, or they’ve become much more wary of one another.

If your characters’ relationship doesn’t change after an argument, then there was no point in writing it.

I really hope this helped! Happy Writing!

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi!

I'm here for a pretty stupid thing actually but I've always found it annoying to do: summaries for fics. I never know how much is too little, how much is too much, or if what I'm putting is going to make people think “wow this sounds interesting” or “wow what a shit, keep scrolling”

Do you think it is better to make a summary as such, or include some lines from the story? Idk, any advice would be appreciated

Thanks for taking your time to read!

Hugss🥰

Hey Nonny!! *HUGS*

Ah, the bane of all writers... the blasted summary to describe your story in as little words as possible to get people interested. The LITERAL very last thing you have to do on a story. Always a fun time.

And it's daunting and can feel very overwhelming, because, just like in advertising (my professional background), you have a TINY window to grasp people's attention and make them WANT to click on your fic to read. As an avid reader of fanfic, I do have my own preferences on what I look for... but as a professional, I think I can offer some wisdom in this part here, for a change. PLEASE KNOW that this is different for EVERYONE! These are just some things I picked up in my 20 years in advertising, and applying it to – what is essentially – a "classifieds" board for stories.

Attention-Grabbing Title – Not PERTINENT, but the average reader is more likely to continue reading what you have to offer if your headline is interesting. Even one word ones can grab attention. Something whimsical or metaphorical to your story is always a winner.

Short and Concise Description / Call to Action – One to two sentences is an average attention span before someone gets bored and moves on to the next post. You need to entice someone into reading MORE of your summary in those first two sentences, if you have a long summary. Start your summary with the subject of the story. ie. "John has a problem: he's well hung." That example right there will entice someone to read your summary further.

Grammar Check your Summary – BECAUSE the summary is a representation of what's to come in your story, make sure you get that summary spell-checked or beta'd with your beta. It's a small thing, but it can help bring people in, and especially if you're trying to appeal to a language that you're unfamiliar with. Your beta can even help you refine the summary so it's more attention-grabbing.

Rate Your Story – "Not Rated" stories have a lesser chance of being read than something rated. Doesn't matter what it is, just put a rating there. At least, if people are doing a ratings filter, then you will show up in a search result.

If You're Writing a WiP, State the status of your story at the end of your summary. Many people such as myself don't want to start a WiP without the certainty that it will be done. Stating something like "Story is finished, new chapter every Friday" is a GREAT way to get engagement on your story, AND generate excitement and buzz for it from the day-oners. THEY are your advertisers. A LOT of people like the suspense of a week-to-week model... it's why syndicated television is still alive! A lot of our Fandom authors do their stories this way, working on chapters weeks in advance while posting chapters "approved". It gives YOU time to write and proof, while also having a Live / Active WiP Story that will keep people coming back.

So yeah, those are some tips from an advertising standpoint.

As a reader, though, my PERSONAL interest in a fic is based solely on these 4 things:

The Ship Tags – use "/" (slash for Slash-fiction) for romantic and sexual relationships, and "&" for platonic/friendships or non-sexual relationships. I, for a fact, DO filter stories by the ship tags FIRST, so I'm sure other people do too. Make sure that you use them.

The Story Tags – Ao3 has spoiled us with these!... List relevant tags, tropes, Universes, and genres that pertain to your story... these are what help get your story found in the search algorithm. Don't write "tumblr-style tags" (ie. "this story took way too long") into this field. It is a big turn off for many people (myself included), AND it fucks with the Ao3 search results. Use author notes or descriptions to write your Tumblr-style musings! The tags should ONLY contain content within your story that may appeal to people OR help trigger/content warn against stuff. Yes, I understand that many authors poo-poo on "spoilers in tags", but in all the years I have been reccing fics, I have NEVER ONCE been told that people don't like how meticulous I tag everything I rec. A LOT of people will use those tags to filter OUT stuff that they personally can't read or don't like. Apart from the summary, the Tags are VERY important, AND it can help you come up with a more interesting and short summary that doesn't need to be descriptive. Use the suggested tags that Ao3 offers when you start typing – these are tags, I believe, that have been used frequently on the site.

The Summary – I KNOW it is legit the worst thing to have to come up with, but your story has a higher chance of being read if you stick to writing a concise summary as I've pointed out above. Some people also may choose to use an interesting blurb from their stories as a preview, which some DON'T like, but it's honestly better than nothing. I know for a fact that I have skipped over stories that don't have SOMETHING in the summary box NOR any tags. I know this isn't what you want to hear, Lovely, but put something here, even if it's just "A literal fuck-tonne of porn without plot" (I give authors permission to steal that pun, LOL).

WiP or Not – This is one of those "gamble" things. As I mentioned above, some authors do a week-to-week advanced model for their story chapters, while others "post each chapter when done". The latter tends to wind up with stories in limbo. PERSONALLY, I don't read WiP's for the simple fact that I get confused REALLY easily on plot lines when I do – I like reading one whole story in one go. But PLEASE don't take this as the golden end-all/be-all. This is a personal preference, since I read a LOT of fics and I have very little time these days to do it. Some people love WiPs. A good way to indicate that you have a story plotted out, but is NOT a week-to-week model? Add the Chapter count, rather than leaving it as "?". People are more likely to follow your WiP WITH a chapter count, since it gives the illusion that you have a rough draft written out and you know how long it will be.

So yeah! I hope this helped you out a bit, Nonny. Sorry it's so long, but I thought with how long I've been reading fics and with how picky I am with fics, these tips would be helpful for you. Again, at the end of the day, it's ALWAYS up to personal preferences of the readers. And don't take it personally if you can't "get an audience" right away. Just be yourself, write because you LOVE writing, and you will have a fruitful and enjoyable time publishing your story!

If any experienced authors in the fandom want to add their two cents from a WRITER'S perspective, please do! <3

[postmodernmulticoloredcloak]

The shifting narrative of God’s interventism and how it reflects on the narrative on John

This post will ignore the issue authorial intent entirely because I can, but it’s also about authorial intent in a way, but I also don’t like to talk about things as happening “accidentally” because a) a serialized story like Supernatural, especially one that got renewed for much longer than anyone could possibly expect or hope in their wildest ambitions, structurally relies on serendipity, because that’s how stories work when they’re work in progress, b) a television show is an extremely multi-authored text and the chance that something happens out of the intent of any of the multiple layers of creators is kind of... statistically negligible. So, yeah, that’s my stance on the topic. Anyway.

The shifting narrative about God is simultaneously something that hangs on fortunate storytelling clicks on an essentially programmed narrative. At first, we don’t know where the fuck God is. Cas starts looking for him with little success. Raphael says he’s dead, Cas doesn’t believe it. Dean relates to his struggle because he knows the feeling of not knowing where the fuck your father is and going looking for him with little success, not knowing if he’s even alive. Then the theory that gets assumed as the truth is that God has left. He fucked off who knows where, who knows why, leaving his creation to struggle alone. Also essentially how Dean had felt after John had died; in that case there was guilt for his demon deal and everything, but the most cruel weight on Dean’s shoulder was that John left him alone to struggle with his devastatingly horrific instructions he doesn’t understand. The angels are also left with horrific instructions they don’t understand. No wonder Cas does his own ‘demon deal’ in season 6, as he desperately tries to do what he assumes his father wants from him, but he doesn’t actually know what that is.

“God has left” is maddening, and everyone is angry about it, but it has its own dignity. God has left us without clear instructions, we are confused and in pain and evil runs amock but at least, we suppose, the evil of it is our own doing. We are alone and we do our best, our best is simply not enough. We wish he gave us guidance, but he won’t. He wants us to figure it out ourselves, possibly. We don’t actually know what he wants. But maybe that’s the point. It’s possible he doesn’t even know what’s happening, he just has left the building entirely.

But then Chuck reveals himself. We find out that he never actually left. He was there. “I like front row seats. You know, I figured I’d hide out in plain sight”. He simply chooses not to intervene. He chooses not to answer. He chooses to be hands-off. He presents himself as a laissez-faire parent, because, he says, it’s better for his children to have the responsibility they need to grow up. He’s absent, but in a different way than we thought! It’s not that he doesn’t know what’s happening or isn’t interested in knowing what’s happening. He’s here, he knows what’s happening, he just stays there and watches as you stumble and struggle and scream. It’s worse, and it pains Dean so much he isn’t even afraid to yell at God. You know we’re suffering and you just don’t give us any support, any comfort.

You’re frustrated. I get it. Believe me, I was hands-on, real hands-on, for, wow, ages. I was so sure if I kept stepping in, teaching, punishing, that these beautiful creatures that I created... would grow up. But it only stayed the same. And I saw that I needed to step away and let my baby find its way. Being overinvolved is no longer parenting. It’s enabling.

But it didn’t get better.

Well, I’ve been mulling it over. And from where I sit, I think it has.

Well, from where I sit, it feels like you left us and you’re trying to justify it.

I know you had a complicated upbringing, Dean, but don’t confuse me with your dad.

At that point of the show, the writing team almost certainly didn’t have the s14-15 twist in mind. So this was probably intended to be Chuck’s truth. Later it gets twisted (retconned?) into a lie, but about that later.

Here, Chuck is really good at manipulating the conversation. Dean has a perfectly valid point, because there IS a middle ground between being overinvolved and not being involved at all. There is a middle ground between enabling your children and abandoning them completely. But Chuck hits Dean where it hurts, plays the emotional card, basically tells him that he’s too emotional to understand, too emotional to think rationally about it, because he mixes his feelings about his father to the issue and thus cannot see it clearly. He basically tells him he’s too close to it to get it. You don’t understand parenting, Dean, because you’re too blinded by your emotions about your own little life and cannot see the big picture.

It doesn’t really matter here if he’s telling the truth or lying, it already says a lot about Chuck that he’s emotionally manipulating Dean, silencing him by hitting the painful spot.

But the thing is, 11.20 immediately presents Chuck as a liar. He makes Metatron read his autobiography and the very first line is a lie (“In the beginning, there was me. Boom – detail. And what a grabber. I mean, I’m hooked, and I was there.” “I’m hooked too, and yet... details. You weren’t alone in the beginning. Your sister was with you.”) and the stuff he talks about his experience as Chuck is not exactly truthful about anything (“That, you know, makes you seem like a really grounded, likable person.” “Yeah, what’s wrong with that?” “You are neither grounded nor a person!”). Metatron calls him out (“Okay. There are two types of memoir. One is honest... the other, not so much. Truth and fairy tale. Now, do you want to write Life by Keith Richards? Or do you want to write Wouldn’t It Be Nice by Brian Wilson?”). Chuck SAYS he chooses truth and gives Metatron a different manuscript, supposedly containing the truth, to which Metatron reacts positively. Metatron believes it, and we believe it with him.

Oh! Oh, this! This is what I was talking about. Chapter Ten “Why I Never Answer Prayers, and You Should Be Glad I Don’t”, and Chapter Eleven “The Truth About Divine Intervention and Why I Avoid It At All Costs”.

Nature? Divine. Human nature – toxic.

They do like blowing stuff up.

Yeah. And the worst part – they do it in my name. And then they come crying to me, asking me to forgive, to fix things. Never taking any responsibility.

What about your responsibility?

I took responsibility... by leaving. At a certain point, training wheels got to come off. No one likes a helicopter parent.

This is sort of what he later says to Dean, except that to Dean he talks about “beautiful creatures” “my baby”, talks about helping, none of the harsh tone he’s using here. When Metatron accuses him of hiding from Amara, he retorts “I am not hiding. I am just done watching my experiments’ failures”. What a different language, uh? Then Metatron asks him why he abandoned them, and Chuck answers “Because you disappointed me. You all disappointed me”. Then, he admits he lied about “learning” to play the guitar and so on, because he just gave himself the ability, and then appears to Dean and Sam, after Metatron’s passionate speech about humanity.

So, no matter the authorial intent at the time - the truthiness of Chuck’s words was already ambiguous. He kept lying and being called out, or silencing the conversation with some good ol’ gaslighting.

The season 14 finale introduces the big twist: it was, indeed, all a lie. The whole of it. Chuck didn’t abandon shit. It was all him, minutely controlling the narrative of the universe, putting the characters through all the pain and struggles for his own amusement.

The “absent father” narrative was a lie.

What does this tell us about John? Nothing, according to the authorial intent that shines through Dabb’s Lebanon. But we don’t give a crap about Dabb’s authorial intent about John! He’s just one dude and plenty of other authors have painted a different picture. So I��m going to read the narrative the way I want, because I can, and the narrative allows me to. It’s all there.

I’m suggesting that the fact that Chuck lied when he talked about being a hands-off/absentee father parallels how Dean and Sam prefer to think of their father as an “absent father” when that’s not exactly a reflection of the truth.

You left us. Alone. ‘Cause Dad was just a shell. [...] And I-I had to be more than just a brother. I had to be a father and I had to be a mother, to keep him safe.

Setting aside how “I had to be a father and I had to be a mother” sort of retcons and cleans up the Winchester family picture painted by ealier seasons, the fact that John didn’t really count as a functional father figure and Dean and Sam were essentually alone is not incorrect or anything. It is true that John would leave them to their own devices a lot, thus the long stays in motels, the hunger, the food-stealing, and all. But John wasn’t always absent, at all. He trained them as soldiers, he disciplined them, he was around enough for them to be intimately familiar with what happened when he drank. He drove them around.

It’s almost like it’s preferable to Dean and Sam to spin their own “absent father” narrative, putting the accent on the time they spent alone, painting their childhood as a time they had to grow up on their own, rather than acknowledge they grew up under the thumb of a controlling, looming figure they would regularly live in fear of, even when he was not physically present.

The “absent father” narrative is what Dean and Sam need to use to avoid confronting the reality of the father figure whose moods and whims they had to dance around. “I know things got dicey... you know, with Dad... the way he was. And I just... I didn’t always look out for you the way that I should have. I mean, I had my own stuff, you know. In order to keep the peace, probably looked like I took his side quite a bit.”

John shaped their lives. He shaped their identities. Even in the episodes where he abandons Dean or both children somewhere, he’s portrayed as the figure who drives the car. He symbolically drives the car, you know? John shaped Dean and Sam’s relationship with each other, both on a surface level (the conflicts) and on a deeper level (the parental dynamic).

Heck. The entire first season of the show plays on John’s disappearance as the “elephant in the room”. John is there by not being there, you know? And after he dies, his death - his absence - is again the elephant in the room for Dean, the weight on his psyche that he shatters under.

It is not wrong that Dean and Sam had to spend long periods of time without John. But John structured their lives in quite minute detail. Where they needed to be, what they needed to do, what they must not do, everything had to follow John’s instructions. A drill sergeant, the narrative called him, ordering how his sons needed to live their lives. That’s no absence, except on a level where Chuck not showing himself and pretending he’s not there can be considered absent. That’s a presence, not necessarily always physical, but semiotical and psychological.

John is an absent father as much as Chuck is a hands-off god. He even writes himself into the story around the time Cas has the “season 1” phase (let’s go look for dad/let’s go look for god), which is when John actually was alive and appeared. Then he was no longer physically there, but he was still shaping his characters’ lives, just like he’d always done.

The “absent father” narrative on John is that - a narrative. Spun by the characters themselves because it’s easier and actually kinder on John. Or, better, it allows them not to be crushed by the psychological implications of having to accept that their father was such a looming, minutely formative figure in their lives. They know, but they can wave the “absent father” idea around to avoid thinking about it.

“I had to be a father and I had to be a mother” is something easier to tell yourself. I was the one who did it all. But he wasn’t, and that’s the problem. The fact that John was their father - Dean’s and Sam’s - is the problem. But ironically, blaming himself for every failure is a better option for Dean than fully acknowledging John’s abuse. As long as he blames himself, he has control over it. The moment he acknowledges the extent of John’s influence, he loses control over the entire narrative of his own identity and the family identity, the family dynamics. That’s scarier, just like realizing that God manipulated everything is much scarier than the alternative. “God abandoned us” was indeed a better option, and “John left us alone” was a better option. But neither was true, and the characters faced the implications of the cosmic level, but never got to face the implication of the familial level, because the narrative always danced around it and then Dabb’s apologist version “won”.

But what’s been put in the show is still there. The narrative of John’s abuse is still there. Nothing can take it out of the story.

[houseofglass]

Hmmm, this spn prequel seems to have ruffled a lot of different feathers. My dash has provided me with Jared hate, Jensen hate, confused tinhats, and even a splash of Cockles/Destiel opinions.

Here’s my take. Spoiler alert: unpopular opinions ahead. I’m not linking anything because I’m in the middle of an unprecedented heatwave and I don’t feel like finding all the sources. Do your own research. Or not. Whatever. I just want to get this all out as coherently as possible. Here we go:

From the beginning, Jensen has been a professional. He didn’t let the drama on Dark Angel get to him and he’s said that he actively avoided having that same drama on the set of spn. He’s known as One-Take-Ackles because he brings his A-game every time.

Jared liked to mess around on set. Take after take after take after take. There was reddit post about how the crew would be working 13 (?) hours to get everything set up and still had six hours of teardown to do and then bam! actors messing about and making the day longer. Like, just say your lines dude. Anyway. Jared liked wresting, getting others to break, and pranking. I think he even pranked Misha by ruining his car more than once. Not cool, IMO.

J2 had a massive fight on set in season two. I recall it being about Jared egging Jensen on to fight but Jensen just stared him down until Jared left the set. They made up and agreed to never do that again as it promotes a bad workplace. Keep your shit contained, kind of thing.

But Jared didn’t, not really. One incident in particular is the wrestling with Osric Chau. Osric is a trained fighter and Jared was apparently going to slam him into the concrete. I repeat, into concrete. Osric dislocated Jared’s shoulder as a result. Jared still didn’t back off and Osric dislocated it again, this time Jared needed surgery and rehab. The wrestling finally stopped.

In all of this, J2 became good friends. I, personally, believe they started messing around sexually right after they auditioned for the parts and then got serious early on. They lived together, and Jared had his first breakdown immediately before announcing his engagement to Gen.

J2 are a good match. Jensen grounds Jared and Jared helps Jensen to be more outgoing while ‘on’ outside the set. Jensen seemed reserved and shy before Jared and was more confident and comfortable with Jared by his side. Jared can spin almost out of control and Jensen helps keep his feet on the ground. They also have an energy that’s been described as lightning in a bottle.

Fast forward a whole bunch of years. They’re still on the same show but have other interests. Each of them ensures that the other has the spotlight in turn. When one has a project, the other is quiet on social media so the focus won’t be taken away. They tell each other everything, as evidenced early on when PR and managers tried to play one off the other. They simply didn’t allow that to happen. Nope. Instead, they stepped back so one could shine. Jared opens a bar and Jensen is supportive. Jensen opens a brewery and Jared is supportive.

During all of this, they still perform at cons for fans. For a while, near the end of spn, I noticed Jensen seemed to be drunk/drinking often. He had a flask while getting a tattoo, he was spotted with fans while drunk and kissed one, the Bad Idea Instagram post. This isn’t unusual. He’s an adult. He can drink. I just thought it odd that I was noticing it more and asked myself, was he always a frequent drinker and he just stopped hiding it or is it a result of the rise of cell phones and constant casual photos?

But then Jared was arrested. He was drunk. Not tipsy or having a good time. Drunk. He assaulted an employee. A lot of people said he was just a big puppy and he didn’t mean anything by it, but that didn’t sit well with me. By this point I’d heard too many stories about Jared being a bit of an asshole. Also, I don’t think Jared has depression. I think he has bipolar disorder. He’s had too many incidences of mania for me to believe it’s just depression. He feels emotions deeply, that’s obvious to me, but he also has emotional swings that remind me of my own bipolar disorder. Am I self-inserting? Maybe. But I know the signs and I see them in Jared. BTW, depression meds can bring on mania if you have bd. You need a different cocktail for bd, and you shouldn’t drink while on them.

By the time J2 announced the end of spn, Walker was already in the works. I knew something was up when I saw Jensen advertising himself at every opportunity. The whole King Bacchus thing and him showing up at after parties/events that are designed for networking kinda cemented this for me. I figured he was parading around looking for work and wondered why Jared wasn’t doing the same. Then Walker was announced.

Now, I admit, my timeline there might be a bit off. Maybe Walker was announced before Jensen was King, but my brain is melting and I can’t remember. Either way, I did note that Jared had plans for post-spn when Jensen didn’t.

The wives started getting involved. Gen is on Walker and Danneel is part of Chaos Productions. Me, being the tinhat that I am, thought this was to ensure the wives have an income and are tied to their husbands. From a non-tinhat pov, I can see their involvement as a natural, nepotism thing that happens.

Jared is doing well on Walker, or so I’ve heard. I haven’t watched the show. Jensen got a role on The Boys and is filming now. Cool. Cool cool cool. Both have acting gigs.

Then Jensen announced, on social media, right before the Walker finale, that there’ll be a spn prequel that’ll be narrated by Dean.

Right. Before. Walker. Let that sink in. All these years, J2 have always stepped aside for one another to ensure they have the spotlight in turn. But now Jensen is hogging it? Jensen is taking the focus off Walker and putting it on himself? Not cool man, not cool.

Also, there was no mention of Sam in the prequel. No mention of the other half of spn. Jared has said, publicly, that he’d drop anything to work on spn stuff, so he’s available. So why wasn’t he ‘in the know’ about this? How could Jensen have slipped this past him?

Jared was seen in Colorado during Jensen’s birthday, just before Jensen went to Toronto. So they’ve seen each other. Even if, in the minuscule possibility, that Jared didn’t see Jensen that weekend, they’ve admitted to talking to each other a lot. So why didn’t Jensen, at any point, tell Jared about this prequel?

Then Robbie Thompson tweeted. Jared was hurt even more. Apparently, I heard through this blue hellsite, that Jared wanted RT to write for Walker, but RT refused. Why? Who knows.

Let’s go back in time, shall we?

Jared messed around on set. Jensen didn’t. I can believe that some crew members/writers/producers/directors would have hated working with Jared. Yes, I said that. Not everyone likes a goofball or prankster. Some people think those people are bullies in disguise.

Maybe, just maybe, the lines were drawn when spn ended. Some people supported Jared, others Jensen.

Before anyone yells at me too loudly, answer me this: how did Jensen - and everyone involved in the prequel including Kripke - keep this from Jared? Didn’t anyone at any point ask how Jared felt about it? Or if Jared was available? Or if Jared would have input? “He’s too busy on Walker” doesn’t cut it as an answer to me. Spn was about two brothers, always two brothers, and now a prequel will only feature one brother?

So I came to the conclusion that the industry deliberately took sides in this whole thing. Nobody told Jared because they didn’t want to work with him again. He has his own show, he’s busy, - these are easy ways of handwaving him out of the equation.

Bottom line, finally, is that Jensen stepped in some shit when he didn’t tell his co-star, his partner, his friend, about a prequel to the show they worked on for fifteen years.

Will I ever know all the details of why Jensen would do this? Nope. I’m not in the industry.

I still believe J2 were/are in a relationship and their wives are beards. I believe they have a wonderful friendship and were as close as two people can be. I don’t want to think that relationship is over. I don’t want to believe they’ve gone separate ways. But man oh man, Jensen fucked up big time here.

I can’t wait for a tell-all book thirty years from now.

[wayward-mikaelson]

I Still Want You, I Still Need You- I. Civil War

Word Count: 2576

About: You are on Steve’s side of things and that upsets your brother,Tony. Showing that you and Tony are two different versions of your guys father, Howard. 

Characters: Reader, Bucky, Tony, Steve, Natasha, Sam, Clint, Wanda, Zemo, and T’Challa

Pairing: None

Warnings/Trigger Warnings: Language, Blood, Injury, Mention of past death

A/N: This has been in my head forever. So while I write both this mini series and Winter’s Doll, please bare with me. 

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The two sides were lined up like the soldiers in during war time way back in the day. You couldn’t see it, but you knew that your brothers face was upset and disappointed in you. He knew that the two of you were similar but, yet, so much more different than each other. There was nothing he could say or do to make you change your mind. He was wrong and you knew it. He was just too blind to see it.

“Really, Y/N, you too? You’re on the wrong side of the line, dear.” Your brother said shaking his head. “I thought you were smarter than this? Dad would be so disappointed in you.”

You couldn’t help but let out a fake laugh. “You’re right, Tony,” You gave him the look that you knew pierced through his mask. The look that many people have said to have been a look that Howard Stark gave, to make himself so intimidating. “I’m smart. I’m smart enough to make decisions for myself and darling, this one is the right one. And bringing Dad into this isn’t going to change anything. You Know that.”

“Is that what Cap told you?” Tony pressed. “That his way is right and mine wrong?”

From the corner of your eye, you saw Steve shift his feet around. “He didn’t have to,” your voice grew cold. The way it always did when you and Tony bickered. “I came to that conclusion myself.”

“Well, then, that’s make you a criminal like the rest of them,” Tony stepped back with both his hands up. “It’s not too late to change your mind, Y/N/N.”

You could hear it in his voice when Tony called you by the nickname he gave you when you were little. He was trying everything he could to get you to step out of this and join his side. He didn’t want to fight his little sister. You didn’t want to fight your brother. 

But yet, here the two of you are.

“I’m sorry, Tony,” you pulled out your retractable bow staff and opened it.

“I’m sorry too,” Tony said.

“What do we do?” Scott asked Steve.

“We fight,” Steve answered starting to lead the way. “Y/N, make sure you guard Bucky. Everyone knows that if they hurt you too bad, Tony will not hesitate to return the favor. Doesn’t matter what side you’re on.”

“Got it Cap,” you said. You knew that Steve was right. Didn’t matter what side you were on, if someone on Tony’s side hurt you to the point that you were hospitalized or near death, he would not hesitate and return the favor. He was still your big brother after all. You had your differences and disagreements. The two of you wouldn’t let the other get seriously injured.

You guessed the new kid didn’t get that memo.

While both teams were fighting, you and Bucky were weaving in and out of the fighting. The new kid, who shot out webs and talked way too much, threw something very large at you. But Bucky tackled you out of the way. The kid came at you again but when you swung your bow staff at him, he caught it and tossed you off it a good ten feet away. You were sure that you were going to wake up sore in the morning. You stood up and then saw red surrounding the new kid who as tossed into a giant pile of boxes. Your bow staff breaking in half.

You nodded your head towards Wanda who nodded back. She ran back towards the fighting.

“You okay?” Bucky asked.

“I’m fine, let’s keep moving.”

The two of you weaved in and out of the fighting again until Steve caught up with you. The three of you crunched out of the line of fire. You looked back to see your friends fighting. One side to be regulated by the government despite what happened to SHEILD a few years back and to bring Bucky in for something he didn’t even do. The other side, to help you and Steve get Bucky to safety, because you, too, believed he was innocent.

“We’re not going to be able to get everyone to that jet,” You told Steve. “It’s going to be impossible with everything thing going on.”

“Some of us are going to have to loose this for us to win it,” Clint’s voice is heard in your coms.

You knew he was right. You hated it too. The three of you ran towards the hanger. A few tiny missiles whizzed passed you guys from above and hit the hanger. That didn’t stop you guys from running, Wanda managed to stop the debris from the building long enough for the three of you to slide right under it.

“He’s innocent, Nat,” Steve said.

You turned around to see Natasha, your best friend, who was almost like a sister to you, standing there. A firm and disappointed look in her face. Natasha rose up her arm and you knew what was coming. You were prepared to tackle the female Russian assassin. “I’m going to regret this,” she said and slightly moved her arm to the side and shot out a taser. It whizzed passed your head.

You looked to see that Natasha’s taser hit T’Challa. “Go,” she yelled and shot another at the Wankadan king. Making him hit the ground once again.

You guys board the quinjet. You strapped into the pilot seat and started to press all the buttons you need. Even disabling the tracker. Steve and Bucky strapped in and soon, you had the aircraft in the air and flew through whatever you could. Looking down at the airport below, you saw law enforcement showing up. You still knew that you made the right choice in taking Steve’s side.

While you flew to Serbia, Steve and Bucky talked. You drowned them out and thought about your brother. A brother you knew all to well. You’d be on his radar until he found you. Until he had Bucky in his clutches. Until you and Steve were behind bars. Unless something there was something that gave him a reason to stop looking. You just hoped that you can get the information you needed before that ever happened.

Bucky needed his name cleared.

“We should be coming up on the base here soon,” Bucky’s voice brought you back to reality.

You looked a head and saw a snow covered mountain. At first you didn’t see anything but after the fog lifted you saw what looked like a bunker. As you landed the aircraft, from the corner of your eye you saw Bucky’s body stiffen up. You could only imagine what was going through the super soldiers head.

“You got this, Bucky,” You turned to him once the quinjet was landed and secured.

Bucky gave a small smile before he and Steve left the aircraft.

Then you were alone.

With your thoughts.

Time passed slowly as you literally twirled around in the pilot chair. You thought about your only memories of your father, Howard. You were really young when he took you in after your mothers death. Gave you the Stark name and all but that didn’t stop people from calling you his bastard child from one of his flings. Even after his and Maria’s death. But Tony had put a stop to that when he was asked what he thought about having a bastard sister. Let’s just say that night, Tony almost ended the night in handcuffs.

Some movement made you stop turning in your chair. You squinted your eyes to getting a better look through the snow being blown around the wind. The movement seemed to be black and upon a clearer look you saw that it was the King of Wakanda himself.

You gathered whatever weapons you could find in the quinjet and ran outside. The cool brisk air hit your face and tingled your nose. You didn’t let that stop you, you slowly followed T’challa to the door.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Your Highness,” you snapped open one of Clint’s bows.

The Wakandan king turned around slowly. “And why is that?” The thick accent came out slow and firm. You didn’t want to go up against this man at all but you would if you had to.

“Barnes isn’t who you want,” You noticed your voice started to shake. “All the answers we are looking for, it’s in that building.”

“I’m sorry, but I have to do what I must do,” T’challa started to open the door.

You reached behind you and pulled out a random arrow. You loaded it on the bow string and shot it. Luckily, for you, it had been one of those electric arrows. It shocked the Wakandan king and he fell to the ground. “I’m sorry too,” you ran passed him and into the building.

You wandered around looking for Steve and Bucky. Abandoned or not, the place gave you the creeps. You didn’t want to think about what this place did to Bucky. Then you turned a corner and saw a huge contraption that looked like the thing that Steve and Bucky talked about.

That thing that shocked the shit out of Bucky when he was under Hydra control. Suddenly your heart fell a million feet when you thought about the constant pain Bucky had been put through.

“Poor Bucky,” you whispered as your hand touched the torture device. “I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

You moved on and began to hear voices. You slowly followed the voices until you found them. The voice that spoke had an accent. He talked about the Battle of Sokovia, a battle which almost took your life. Then he spoke about the Vienna bombing and how that was all his doing.

“I told you it wasn’t him,” you spoke as you approached the group. “But you didn’t believe me or trust me.”

Tony turned to you. “I know and I’m sorry.”

“Oh good, the whole family is here,” the strange voice said. “Now the show can really begin.”

There was soft click and hum somewhere in the room. Everyone looked around and spotted an old television set. You guys approached it and when the screen popped up of an old road, you heard Tony suck in his breath.

“I know that street,” he said.

You watch the events unfold on the screen before. Your father dying at the hand of Bucky. You shot a look at Bucky whose entire face had fallen. Your eyes shifted to Tony who looked like he was about to either snap or pass out. You turned to the tv and stopped the video.

“Tony,” you turned back him.

“Don’t you dare say anything,” Tony snapped at you.

“Tony,” Steve cut in.

“Give him to me, Rogers,” Tony’s mask flew back on and turned toward Bucky. You knew he meant business.

You jumped in front of your brother. Bow loaded with an arrow.  “Tony, no,” you rose your voice. “It wasn’t really him. He was brainwashed.”

“Stand aside, Y/N,” Tony started to fire up his suit.

“It wasn’t him,” you yelled as you rose the bow up and aim it at him.

“I don’t fucking care,” Tony yelled back. “He killed our parents. No move or so help me.”

You let the arrow go and it hit Tony’s armor and stuck to it. Before he even had time to grab it and toss it, the arrow exploded, sending Tony back into the television set.

“Go,” you told Bucky and Steve. “I’ll be able to hold him off.” You loaded another arrow and pointed it at your brother who slowly got up.

“Are you sure about that?’ Steve asked.

“He won’t hurt me too much,” you stayed focused on Tony who stood and stared at you. You could only imagine that thoughts of anger and surprise he had. “Just go!”

“You don’t want to do this, Y/N/N,” Tony held up his hand again. “You’re giving me absolutely no fucking choice.”

“Then don’t fucking make one,” you kept your weapon in place. “Drop all of this and let us go. No one has to get hurt anymore.”

Without warning or any other word said, Tony hit you. With what, you weren’t sure since he upgrades his suits whenever he’s bored. You flew back into something hard and smacked your head hard enough to put you out.

***

When you came to, your sight was fuzzy and your side was killing you. You were still in the old Hydra base so that was good, Tony hadn’t thought about taking you back. You looked down and as you saw a piece of metal poking out of your side. Biting your lip as hard as you could until you tasted blood, you pulled the metal out of your side.

You placed your hand over the wound to clot the small blood flow. You stood up and swayed some. It felt like your brain was rolling around in your head. Tony must have used some force and it pissed you off.

In the distance you heard the clanging around and yelling. You knew that Tony cornered Steve and Bucky. You followed the the sound and when you found them you saw Bucky on the ground. His metal arm blown off. Blood flood from his head and nose.

“Bucky,” you ran and slide over to him. You checked his pulse and pressed an ear to his chest. “Thank God,” you breathed when the soft sound of his heart reached your ear. “We’ll get you fixed you up.” You swore you saw a small smile on his face when you said that.

Then you looked up.

Steve had Tony in the air and threw him into a wall. You gasped and stood up only to fall to your knees when the pain in your side ran sharp through your body. Steve straddled Tony and grabbed his shield and started to hit his mask with the edge of it. The shield managed to break the mask. You saw fear in Tony’s face as Steve rose the shield once again.

“Steve, no!” You screamed as Steve brought the shield down. But it didn’t hit Tony’s face. It his the arc reactor in the suit. Making the suit shut down.

Steve looked back at you and got up. Pulling the shield out of Tony’s suit. Steve walked over to where you and Bucky were. He pulled Bucky up and looked at you. “Are you okay?” He asked softly.

You nodded as you stared at Tony. Tony stared back at you. His eyes on your bloodied hand that covered your wound. His shifted to Steve who started to walk away. “He gave you that shield,” he yelled. “You don’t deserve it.”

You turned to Steve, who stopped and drop the shield where he stood. You slowly and painfully got up and began to follow Steve you.

“Y/N!” Tony yelled after you. You turned to him. “You leave with them, you won’t have a home to come back to. You’d be forced to be on the run. A criminal. Dad would be embarrassed by your actions.”

You stared Tony in the eyes. “No, Tony,” your voice firm and full of anger. “Dad would be embarrassed by you.”

You turned on your heel and walked away with tears threatening your eyes.

[felassan]

Zero To Play podcast episode: John Epler, Narrative Director at BioWare

In the most recent episode of Zero To Play podcast the guest was John Epler, Narrative Director on DA4. He talked about narrative games, how they fit inside an industry leaning towards games as a service, his experience being at BioWare for almost 14 years, and advice that he has for aspiring devs who want to create memorable, impactful and transformative moments in games.

The episode summary read as follows:

In this episode John brings his 13+ year experience being at BioWare and working on titles like Mass Effect & Dragon Age: Inquisition to explain how he believes storytelling will evolve and develop through the medium of games.

He shares some of his favorite moments and why he thinks games are the most powerful and interesting medium to be exploring in this generation.

It’s a good and interesting interview, so worth checking out if you can! You can listen to it here or on Spotify.

This post contains some notes on what was talked about in the episode, in case a text format is better for anyone (for example folks that can’t listen to it due to accessibility reasons). It’s under a cut due to length.

A bit of paraphrasing.

The average dev stays with a game company/studio for about 5 years. John joined BioWare right after the EA acquisition happened.

[on going into Trespasser] “Myself and the Lead Writer Patrick Weekes both knew that we needed to wrap up at least this part of the Inquisitor’s story, and set up where we want to go next with the franchise, with the IP. We learned a lot of lessons from DAI itself. DAI was a game with a lot of exploration and open-world content, and while we stand by that (I still think it was the right call for the game), one of the pieces of feedback we got from the fans was that they really wanted some more directed storytelling. Jaws of Hakkon was more of a continuation of open-world, more free-from exploration and free-form design. Trespasser was our opportunity to tell a story in a much more linear and focused way. [this way of telling stories] really does help to be able to create that sense of pacing and emotional escalation. It’s a lot harder to do that when you’re mixing up storybeats with big, wide open-worlds. Trespasser was a project where everyone was kind of in sync, we were all building [towards] the same thing.” 

-

“There were [story]beats [in Trespasser] that I don't think we would have been able to get away with in basegame DAI, one of those being the - quite frankly - incredibly lengthy conversation you have with Solas at the end. Because by this point we knew that if someone is playing this DLC then they are in it - they’ve been in it for the last two DLCs, they’ve played through the entire game, they want something incredibly story-focused. And we were able to really dive deep into that, some of the deep lore, some of the narrative. This was one of the only conversations that I’d worked on which, due to limitations of the engine, we actually had to break into two different conversation styles because it was so massive. We also got opportunities to do some fun callbacks. One of my favorite ones was one Patrick suggested which was, ‘What if I [didn’t like Solas much and] spent the entire basegame telling Solas I didn't want to hear anything he had to say?’ So we had the option that if you never chose ‘Investigate’ or a dialogue option that implied that you wanted to hear him blather on, there was one dialogue option that you could pick which was basically ‘Solas, when have I ever wanted to hear any of the shit you have to say?’ And it just kind of wrapped up the conversation super quickly, and Solas looked exasperated. It was fun because it’s not the kind of thing you can necessarily do in the main game, but in a DLC which is entirely for those core fans, you have a lot more options as to what you can do.”

John has an understanding of games as an interactive medium.

“Choice of combat, choice of mechanics, all of that does have an impact on the storytelling and on the narrative that you’re trying to put through. A lot of storytelling in games is trying to make sure that the - there’s a phrase, ludonarrative dissonance - [for example, say] I’m making a game where I’m trying to make the player feel powerful. How do you [do that?] [...] In games, this is kind of the challenge. Interactivity is so key to it. [...] It’s a lot harder [compared to characters in film] to put the player in a situation that they are going to lose, because as soon as you take away that autonomy, you’re taking away some of that interactivity. [...] If as a player I'm making you feel strong and powerful, and then I pull you into a cutscene and suddenly you’re losing the fight, you’re losing what’s going. That is a much different sensation, that is something movies can get away with that games can’t.”

-

“What are [players/our audience] actually meaning when they say that they ‘want choice’? I think that in a lot of cases we conflate that with ‘Oh, they want to make a big decision that changes the world’. But in a lot of cases what players want is the game to react to what they’re doing and the choices that they’re making in a way that feels organic and natural. I think this is something CD Projekt Red and the Telltale games did really well - of making it clear when the game is actually going to pay attention to what you said or did, so that when you see it later you’re like ‘Oh right yeah, I made that choice, the game said it was going to remember it, and it remembered, this is cool’.

And it doesn't always mean completely changing the course of events. The Telltale writers, as they got on through the games, they realized that the better way to address choice - and something we’ve done too - is, if we make the game have three endings, four or five - like DAO had an absolute massive amount of ways that it could turn out. How do you pay that off if you want to do a sequel? There's basically two choices. One is that you make an incredibly short game because you have to account for these very different branches, OR you collapse them and say ‘Sorry, this is what we’re going with’. And I don't think either of those are necessarily satisfying. For me it’s about making the players feel like their time and the choices they made have been respected. More than anything else that's the key, it comes down to understanding your fanbase, what it is they’re looking for, what it is they’re asking for, because there is that desire for choice, reactivity, consequences. And it’s something that BioWare, that we’re especially sensitive to because it’s always been a big pillar of the games we make. It’s just about understanding what this actually means from a practical standpoint and how you execute on that in a way that makes your fans feel satisfied, while still not writing yourself an impossible check to cash, because, you know, you can react to anything, but if you have a game that ends in three separate ways, you have to go with one of those two options and neither of them is going to be intensely satisfying to the player.”

-

“A phrase I’ve been using is, what I'm describing as - the half life of quantum. ‘Quantum’ is what we say when it could be like, one of six different things. The half life of this is how long before you actually resolve that down to a single point. Like, provide the player with that reactivity, but collapse those into a way that you can proceed forward. This is 100% a lesson learned from Dragon Age, for all the games. ‘Ok, what do we do with this? Holy shit, that is huge, how are we actually going to pay that off?’ Reactivity, but without putting yourself in an impossible-to-win situation [from a story/writing standpoint].”

-

“More than anything else, the advice I would give [to aspiring devs] is, come up with some fundamental pillars of your story and of your design. There's a misunderstanding that we plan out the exact story for years in advance. We know what we want to get to, we kinda know how we’re going to get there, and a lot of it is just making sure that you have those pillars and those razors. So as you go through development and find, ‘Oh this piece is not working, this piece is clunking’, you’ll always have principles that you can go back to. What is important about this story? Does the piece that isn't working satisfy any of those things? If no, then we have to change it or get rid of it.”

-

[more advice] “Don’t be afraid to fail (I say fail here as a good thing). Don't be afraid to put something out there and have it absolutely torn to shreds. Feedback is your best friend, having people that you trust to provide that feedback. If I were building a big epic narrative, a big epic franchise, [I’d advise that you] start with your principles and the core of what you want to do, and then just start putting out ideas. ‘Here’s my idea for this story’. It’s easier for me, I'm inheriting a lot of work that's already been done, a lot of ground that's already laid - I have a Lead Writer that has been doing this longer than I have, PW is fantastic. But for myself, it’s just been a lot of like, okay, taking this stuff that's already been built, and making sure that I know what we want to do with whatever the next project is. It sounds overly reductive and overly simplistic, but it really is about just having a really strong sense of what is important to your franchise, what’s important to your brand. If you’re coming up with a new IP, it’s a little trickier. You need to spend some time thinking: what’s the tone, what’s the setting, what kind of story do we want to tell.”

-

[more advice] Don’t be afraid to heavily reference existing media [as actual razors, internally]. But that's not something you ever want to have go out to the public, because people go like ‘Oh, you’re just being derivative’. It’s like no, we’re just leaning on cultural touchstones that people know, so that when you’re communicating with people outside your discipline, or with people above you like executives, they can at least get a sense like, ‘Oh I kinda get what you’re doing, okay that makes sense’, versus ‘Let me first of all explain the entire history of the world’. My experience with executives is that they don't have time for that and justifiably so. But if I tell them we’re doing X but with Y and Z it’s like, ‘Ok cool, we get that’. [...] It’s a tiered approach. You have levels of detail that you provide to different people based on what they need to know. You yourself may need to know the history of these characters and how they relate to each other and the thousands of years of history for that, but the person building combat probably doesn't need all that detail and just needs to know ‘What am I working with, how do these characters fight.”

-

“A razor is a statement that you use to slice away what doesn't fit. The narrative razor for Trespasser was, I can’t remember exactly, we were basically trying to go for the Avengers meets Indiana Jones, Winter Soldier. Avengers meets Winter Soldier. [a razor is] a statement that you take all the content [by], ‘Okay, does this actually fit this statement? No? Okay, get rid of it’. It’s about focusing your game. Cutting away the ideas that don't really fit is how you avoid scope-loading and people crunching, and how you keep your project focused.

Trespasser was an intensely-focused DLC, in that it focused on basically two main core things, Solas and the fate of the Inquisition. Everything kind of wrapped into those two razors. As we were going through content, we had stuff like - I said this at a GDC presentation in 2016 - the Qunari are farming lyrium to make Qunari templars. And then we looked at it like, how does that apply to either razor? It doesn't, it doesn't fit either one of them. So we simplified it to, ‘Okay, what actually makes this work in the context of what we’re building?’. [a razor is] a statement that you use to slice off what doesn't fit into the game that you’re building. It can be painful, but having strong razors means that it never comes across as a personal thing.”

Narrative does not mean story.

Two of his least favorite mechanics in games [not including Stalker and DayZ] are weight limits and weapon degradation.

On games as a service:

Interviewer/host: “Talking about games as a service, it’s definitely something that is talked about a lot in gaming in terms of the most successful games. With Dragon Age, putting DLCs out is kind of maybe that same influence, but games that are launched and then iterated on and updated and pushed with content every month, like Fortnite, Riot Games, League of Legends, Valorant etc, that's kind of I feel where the trend of games are trying to go and make the most of those interactions between other people, to make replayability possible and easier. How do you see narrative, do you see it being forgotten with this increase of games as a service? [...] Do you see that as a positive part of narrative in games or do you think there’s still work to be done in that space?”

John: “[...] The place we start to see some confusion, a lot of people think it’s one or the other, but to me, it’s another way, another option for telling stories that by their nature have to be different. I think that's where you need to be, again, very cognizant of what you’re building and of the genre you’re working in, because a story that works for a more traditional box product is not necessarily the kind of story that would work for a games as a service product. [...] Games as a service, understanding what the cadence is that you’re planning to deliver to and what kinds of stories best fit that cadence - some games are better at it than others.

One game that did a pretty decent job of it is Destiny 2, through patches. Final Fantasy 14 is another example, they do a lot of their storytelling between the big expansion releases as part of their free patches. They always know that they have - I think, five big patches? - between each expansion, and they’ve structured their stories to fit into that very specific five-act structure. If they tried to do it weekly or bi-weekly it would be a very different experience. I think there’s always room for narrative. It’s about knowing that there are different lessons to learn and not being afraid to learn those lessons, as opposed to trying to fit the traditional box product square-peg narrative into a live service round hole. And that’s why you need to have a strong vision and why you need to have somebody at the Director level who understands and plays the kinds of games that you’re building, so they kind of understand what works and what doesn't - ‘This type of story worked really well for this game, and I'm not saying you should copy it, but you should at least be willing to learn those lessons and not reinvent the wheel every time.’

We’ve been making games for a long time now, there’s lots of lessons to learn, we should be trying to learn from them and not trying to like, change everything every single time.”

-

[on length of narrative] “In a lot of cases you know how long your game should be and the hardest part is sticking to that. [...] There is always a worry that fans are going to see a number and be like ‘That’s not big enough or that’s not long enough.’ I do think that there is sometimes a lack of confidence in what you're building, and a desire to make it shorter or longer, but I think at the core, the people building [a] game know how long it’s going to take to tell this story that they want to tell. I say this specifically for narrative, but even stuff like progression, you know how long you want it to take. For myself, I will always take a short but well-executed game over a long game that feels that it has a lot of [useless/boring] padding. It’s about identifying the kind of game you’re building. Open-world games are always going to be bigger and longer than more linear games. Being confident in that number and recognizing when you’re adding time and space for no other purpose than just to make that number on the back of the box longer [is important]. Fans don’t love that, they can see right through that.”

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“It was nice to see the amount of hard work that went into DAI rewarded by the press [with the Game of the Year award]. There are definitely parts of it that didn't land that we wish we could have done differently, but it was a project that felt like we were all pulling in the same direction and when we started getting that positive feedback, it was definitely a sense of relief. Especially because a lot of us had been on DA2, and while we were proud of that project, it obviously didn't get the reception that we wanted at that time.

[when they were watching DAI’s release and tracking its reception] We’re keeping a running tally, like ‘Okay, this is really looking like we did something special here’. I’m proud of every project that I’ve worked on but DAI is definitely one that I’m especially proud of.” 

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“Part of the advantage to being at a company for as long as I have, I've worked with a lot of the other people [responsible for things in other departments like art, writing, audio etc], so while there is that anxiety like ‘I reeeally hope that this works out’, I know it’s going to, because I know that everyone who is doing these roles, like our Animation Director, our Audio Director, Levels, all those other people on the project know what they’re doing and they know their shit better than I could ever hope to. So I’m just kind of standing here like ‘Hey y’all this is what we need’, and it’s coming in. And when it does come in, when you see the pieces together - I think for myself, on DAI, the moment that I first finally started feeling like it was really all coming together was, one of our music designers, going into one of the moments at the end of Redcliffe, doing the music/audio pass, and me finally seeing this scene that I’d been staring at and banging my head against for months - turn into something that actually conveyed emotion, that actually was something that I was excited for our fans to get to see and get to experience. That’s always a special feeling.”

Cinematics is one of the last things to come in, which means that audio is always waiting for them to come in: “They always did an amazing job with very little time, I will never not praise our audio and music designers.”

“Patrick Weekes is the Lead Writer, which means ultimately PW is responsible for the writing side of the game. As Narrative Director, I’m there to offer, to basically take the vision of the project and interpret the part that focuses on narrative and then provide that to my team - because I work with writing, cinematics, level designers and everyone - I’m there to be like ‘Hey this is the narrative we want to achieve’, which sometimes involves getting involved in the story side of things. But a lot of that is PW’s job as Lead Writer, they’ve been doing it for a long time, they’ve been in the industry longer than I have. It’s a really good working relationship. We worked together when I was in cinematics and they were in writing, we worked together on the Iron Bull, then we were both leads on Trespasser, so we have a trust.

I think what’s been really helpful is that they know that if I tell them something’s not working, it’s not coming from ‘I wanna do it my way, you better just do it my way because I’m the boss’, it’s coming from ‘This is something I think we need to do for the project’. And vice versa, if they push back on me about something, I know it’s not coming from ‘Screw you I'm the Lead Writer, I make the decisions’, they’re saying it because this is an actual concern. I do writing, I’m a writer on the project too but I will fully admit PW is a way better writer than I am, so I'm comfortable leaning on them for that stuff, and then I’m the person who can provide that ‘Okay, we know that gameplay is providing this, we know levels is providing this, let’s shift the priorities'.

It’s also about knowing, being able to take that back from any one discipline and say ‘Okay, what is the right decision for the project as a whole’, and sometimes that means telling PW something that they may not think is their favorite thing to do, but they will listen because they trust me and I trust them. I don't know how it works at other studios, there are places where Narrative Director is also the Lead Writer, or where there is Narrative Director and Lead Writer is the highest authority on narrative that exists, but it’s worked for us again because we have that lengthy experience. It would be interesting to see how it would work if we didn’t know each other for a while before this. It’s largely a relationship of trusting each other to know our areas of expertise and also just understanding what’s important to the narrative vision of the project.”

When they did Tevinter Nights it was ‘extracurricular’ work: “It was fun, I got to do some writing, I got published, which was really fun”.

[source]

[☕ found this post or blog interesting or useful? my ko-fi is here if you feel inclined. thank you 🙏]

[piteouspeculiarity]

Defining Home: Extended Author's Note

Warning: This might contain spoilers for the series

(For clarity, when I say 'Tommy' etc in this post, I'm talking about the characters from my fics, not the content creators themselves.)

So it's done, huh? This note will include the sappy shit, the fun facts, then some of the more serious stuff, because I just didn't want to add an essay to the end of that chapter.

First of all, thank you all for the support along the way. Defining Home is easily my most popular series of fics I’ve ever written and I’ve been writing fanfic for years now. The comments and the kudos and the bookmarks were so very validating when I was new to the fandom, and still are. Hell, people have gifted me fics and written related fics to Defining Home, which blows my tiny mind. I haven’t gotten the chance to read a lot of them yet (procrastination I know thy name), but when I do, I’ll be leaving my best comments in thanks <3

I'll be honest, when I posted the first chapter of Enough, I never expected it to turn into what it did.

That first chapter was written in my phone notes at 3am, hours before an exam. I hadn't interacted with the fandom at all at that point, didn't even have a Tumblr for it, but boy oh boy did I get a warm welcome.

The point is, that first chapter was a very spur in the moment thing, mainly consisting of one scene I couldn't get out of my head (Tommy on a train to Wilbur's). I've gotten a few people telling me since then that they wished that they could write as well as I can, which is a huge compliment, but every person can write a fic like Enough. There are things that we all struggle with when it comes to writing: dialogue, prose, starting scenes - I have my own things I struggle with, things you might have noticed, things you might have not. You don't have to be a perfect writer to tell a story, especially in fandoms, where betas are easy to come across.

Write your story, even if its just for yourself. Posting that chapter gave me the chance to make new friends and I'll never stop being grateful for that.

One of those friends is Kat, who I've mentioned a couple times in the author's notes, but who honestly, I owe a lot to. Kat has encouraged me and been one of the main motivators to write this fic when I felt like it would never be finished, or that I'd never live up to other people's expectations. Sometimes, that meant motivating in some weird ass ways, but hey, it worked.

People who know me in discord servers might know that I'm a simp for Kat and it's damn true. Kat, I love you, you've improved my life more than you know in the last couple months and you deserve so, so much happiness.

In fear of love reciprocation from Kat, we'll move swiftly on to the more fun side of things.

Anyone feel like fun facts? You might already know some of these because I tend to overshare in author's notes, but I'm pretty sure some of them are new to all of you.

Barney the dog? Named after my own late labrador, who I love very much and loved to jump in lakes and need rescuing, time and time again.

I had no plans in moving Tommy in with Techno, hell, I had no plans in Techno moving to England at all. It was as much of a surprise to me as it was to everyone else when he told Tommy the news, but I latched onto the idea and ran with it. I think it worked out okay, in the end.

Techno has a draw in his bedroom full of parenting books, most of which were stolen from Phil.

After Tommy asked for help about what to do with Dream, Wilbur sent Dream a dm telling him he better not fuck anything up and if he did, Wilbur would not hesitate to humiliate him in front of millions of people. It was unnecessary, of course, but Dream was definitely a bit more cautious about what he said when he listened to Tommy’s explanation.

Some of my favourite things about writing Defining Home:

The Tesco v Asda discourse. Look, some of you just need to accept that Asda is the superior shop and get off your Tesco stanning bullshit. /j

The offers I would get for new chapters, some honourable mentions being newborns, siblings, diamonds and kidneys.

Now, I know that as much as I tried to, I won't have managed to include everything that everyone wanted from Defining Home, whether that's certain confrontations or scenes, I am sorry if I haven't included.

I don't imagine myself writing any more in the series, not because I think there isn't more I could write about, but because as a whole it feels complete to me, and any added oneshots I write would disturb that.

Right now Defining Home feels well rounded in a way that I'm proud of. The minute I realised that Enough was going to turn into a series I planned out how I wanted it to work. Maybe its just the maths part of my brain, but I like how there's three fics, with three chapters in each and how Tommy heals as you progress throughout the series.

My aim for the series was for the tone to get lighter as you went through, because yes, things kept happening (confrontation with dad, beach incident etc) but the point was that Tommy dealt with those things in different ways that he would have earlier on in the series. I have lots of thoughts and lots of emotions about how he felt safe enough with his family to experience nightmares and such. I made an effort in The Truth Behind Family to include more fluff, especially in the last two chapters, because I think it’s important to show that yeah, his parents’ abuse effected him, but it didn’t dictate how he lived his life. 

Like yes, I could write about their first Christmas together, for example, and add it onto the series, but I don’t think that I’d be able to do the rest of the series justice in that. Defining Home is largely about what the title implies, Tommy discovering what words like ‘home’ and ‘family’ mean beyond what he’s been told he’s stuck with and I believe that by the end of the series, he’s been successful in that. 

I'm so proud of the characters I wrote, Tommy in particular, for how far they've come in Defining Home, but I think that in a way, it’s time for me to let them go.

That’s not to say I’m done with writing for sbi! Hell no! 

I have a couple long fics in the works and a one shot I’m working on. The main fic I’m excited to focus on now Defining Home is finished is heavy heart, heavy head, heavy hero which, to put it simply, is an sbi royalty au, where unfortunate circumstances mean Tommy is forced to become King. It’s going to be a little more plot focused than Defining Home was and I am so very pumped to give it my full attention instead of leaving that lonely one chapter on AO3 like I have been doing.

I was 🤏close to making a Discord server, but ultimately decided I’m much more suited to causing chaos on other people’s servers than running my own. I think at this point the karma would be too great to even consider making my own server, so if you’d like to talk to me on Discord, keep an eye for me on other people’s servers - I mainly lurk, but I’m pretty active on one or two :D

On a more serious note, Defining Home deals with some heavy topics and I’ve had comments tell me that they relate to Tommy’s situation and wish that they had their own found family to run to. 

This Tumblr post has a list of phone numbers and places you can contact if you need help or want someone to talk to. Saying that, I recognise that a list as long as that can be daunting, so feel free to shoot me a message and I can either help you find the right one for you, or keep you company for a bit if you need it. 

Not all of us are lucky enough to have our own found family, but that doesn’t mean that you won’t forever, or that you’re alone. My dms and ask box are always open if you want someone to talk to.

Keep yourselves safe <3

- Lee